Should God get credit for D-Day?

Here's an extended version of my magazine article for this month:

This month we will be commemorating the 80th anniversary of D-Day, the day the Allied troops landed in France to begin the counter-offensive against the Nazis.  Facing them was a vast defensive network of artillery, gun emplacements, mines and other deadly obstacles stretching from the west coast of France up to Norway, known as the “Atlantic Wall”.  Ernie Pyle, a war correspondent who was there at the time, said that the Allies attacked “with every advantage on the enemy’s side and every disadvantage on ours.”  Pyle concluded, “Now that it is all over, it seems to me a pure miracle that we ever took the beach at all.”  

We will be rightly admiring the bravely of those who attacked against such great odds, as well as the intelligence of those who devised both the invasion and the equipment needed for it.  But will God get any credit for the success of D-Day and its aftermath?

Invoking deities in battles is probably as old as human conflict itself, with victories being seen as evidence of the superiority of one nation's god(s) over another's.  When Sennacherib king of Assyria attacked Judah, his commander said to the people of Jerusalem ““Do not listen to Hezekiah [king of Judah], for he is misleading you when he says, ‘The Lord will deliver us.’ Has the god of any nation ever delivered his land from the hand of the king of Assyria?” (2 Kings 18:32-33) In this case God did indeed deliver Judah (2 Kings 19:32-37).

Things get a bit more complicated however in the age of Christendom when the nations fighting against each other claimed to follow the same God, most famously perhaps with the Spanish Armada aiming to reclaim England for the 'true (Roman Catholic) faith' but being defeated in part by a 'Protestant wind.'  And in World War I both sides claimed God was on their side.  However, in World War II the Nazis rejected the traditional Judeo-Christian God and their policies made it easy for the Allies to claim that they were fighting against an evil regime.  So, coming to D-Day it was natural for the Allied hierarchy to invoke God to their cause.  

Eisenhower requested to the troops that “all beseech the blessing of Almighty God upon this great and noble undertaking”; Montgomery told the troops, “Let us pray that the Lord, mighty in battle, will give us victory”; Roosevelt offered a prayer rather than a speech  saying “In this poignant hour, I ask you to join with me in prayer”; and George VI said “I desire solemnly to call my people to prayer and dedication.”

Arguably the prayers worked.  The bad weather, which had led to the invasion being postponed, abated but also meant the Germans were not expecting the invasion.  Indeed a lot of their commanders left for war games exercises in Brittany, and Rommel, who was in charge of the Normandy defences, decided to travel 500 miles to Germany to celebrate his wife’s birthday. As Pyle observed, although still horrific, Allied casualties “were remarkably low—only a fraction, in fact, of what our commanders had been prepared to accept.”

So did God intervene miraculously on the Allied side on D-Day? The Bible reveals a God who cares about what happens in the affairs of nations and will intervene (Daniel 2:20-21), but we ought not to be too quick to recruit God to our cause.  As George VI wisely said on D-Day: “We are not unmindful of our shortcomings of the past and present. We shall not ask that God may do our will, but that we may be enabled to do the will of God; and we dare to believe that God has used [us] as an instrument for fulfilling his high purpose.” And when he does use us as an instrument we should, as Churchill told the House of Commons after the war had been won, “give humble and reverent thanks to Almighty God for our deliverance.”

“It would be better if I weren't here”

Here's my article for May:

“It would be better if I weren't here.”  This is often the heart-rending opinion of those who take their own lives. And the consequence of allowing forms of assisted suicide might be that terminally ill people are forced to think the same about themselves, seeing themselves as a burden to their families or society.  Whatever the circumstances of this opinion, it is always tragic.  Which is why it seems odd that Jesus said words to that effect to his disciples.

After his resurrection, Jesus spent forty days with his disciples, eating and drinking with them and also appearing to others (Acts 10:40-41; 1 Corinthians 15:3-8) and then went back to his Father, which we celebrate on Ascension Day.  However, before he died he was preparing his disciples for this final departure and said to them “very truly I tell you, it is for your good that I am going away” (John 16:7).  I wonder if the disciples forgot this and perhaps one of the things he reminded them during those forty days was that it would be better for them for him to go away.  If so, I wonder if it puzzled them?

It might puzzle us too.  Surely it would be better for Jesus to have stayed on earth? Now he'd been resurrected he would be immortal and could carry on teaching and healing forever.  We could go to see him preach or witness his miracles; he could have his own TV, YouTube and TikTok channel; we could even 'follow' him on Facebook and Instagram, or read his tweets.  As Judas sings in 'Jesus Christ Superstar': “Why'd you choose such a backward time in such a strange land? / If you'd come today you could have reached a whole nation. / Israel in 4 BC had no mass communication.”

Many people say to me that they would believe in Jesus if he would only appear to them, though of course many people met Jesus during his earthly ministry, heard his teaching and saw his miracles but still didn't believe in him.  However, Jesus himself says why it was better for him to leave: “Unless I go away, the Advocate will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you.” - he's talking about the Holy Spirit, whose arrival we celebrate at Pentecost.  

In this sense, the Holy Spirit is better for us than Jesus because Jesus didn't lose his humanity when he was resurrected – he was raised physically with a body that could eat and drink and which still bore the marks of his crucifixion (John 20:27).  Therefore, like us, he could only be in one place at one time: he could only be beside us, whereas the Holy Spirit can dwell within everyone who believes in Jesus.  And one of the tasks of the Holy Spirit within us is to remind us that we are loved and valued by God no matter what we or others think about us.

Which myths colour our present and shape our future?

Here's my article for the April magazines:

One of the ways I like to relax is by reading books on history. I don't really have a favourite period, but I do tend to prefer the history of the British Isles and I've just started to read about the period in which the legends of King Arthur are set. These legends are part of the founding myths of our islands, and help us to get a sense of identity that in turn gives us a way to view the present and shape the future.

Initially, Arthur was a Celtic/British leader who fought against the invading Anglo-Saxons: a 'Welsh' king fighting the (future) 'English'; prophesied by an earlier legend of a red dragon (Arthur) defeating the white dragon (the Saxons), which is immortalised in the Welsh flag. Thus Arthur was the inspirer of the struggle of the native Britons against the latest attackers.

Edward I was an Arthurian enthusiast who saw the power of a triumphant “once and future” Welsh king to inspire Welsh resistance to his campaign to conquer Wales. So he asserted his dominance over Arthur by digging up and reburying the alleged remains of Arthur and Guinevere at Glastonbury. But conversely he also used the example of Arthur as King of Britain to justify his desire to subjugate Wales and Scotland.

His grandson Edward III modelled his new 'Order of the Garter' on Arthur's Knights of the Round Table. He also replaced his royal predecessors Edmund the Martyr and Edward the Confessor as patron saints of England with George the soldier-saint, thus giving rise to another myth that has shaped the identity of the English nation.

We all have founding 'myths' that shape our personal identity. Some are grounded in our nationality or ethnicity; some are stories of more recent ancestors; some stem from our early childhood experiences. All of these 'myths' can make us feel trapped into certain patterns of thought or behaviour; or, as Edward I shows us, can be manipulated to justify our desires.

The Bible shows us a better way. The Creation story in Genesis tells us that our identity should be fundamentally based on the truth that we are made in the image and likeness of God, and our ultimate happiness is to be found in a living relationship with him. This relationship was destroyed through our sin but restored through Jesus' death and resurrection. So now, through repentance and faith in Jesus we can be shaped once again by being in the image and likeness of God and having a living relationship with him. It is only this that gives us “strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow.”

Image: King Arthur's Round Table at Winchester Castle from Wikimedia Commons

Life is the name of the game

Here's my March article:

When I was young, I noticed how older people would often tell the same stories or talk about the same subjects over and over again.  Now I'm an older person, I find myself doing it too; repeating stories and subjects.  A few weeks ago I was talking to someone about my magazine articles and I realised how often I write on the subject of death!   I don't think I have a particularly morbid interest in death, but I am fascinated by people's beliefs about death, especially those who don't identify themselves as being 'religious.'  And so, despite Good Friday being a perfect opportunity to talk about death again, I'm going to restrain myself and instead focus this month on Easter and on life.

As Brucie said, “life is the name of the game” and this is certainly true of the Christian faith: the most famous verse in the Bible, John 3:16, tells us that “God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”  Jesus talks about the small gate and narrow path that leads to life, which only a few find (Matthew 7:14) and declares that he is the way, the truth and the life (John 14:6).  He says that “my Father’s will is that everyone who looks to the Son [Jesus] and believes in him shall have eternal life” (John 6:40). But this eternal life is not 'pie in the sky when you die' Jesus also says “I have come that [those who listen to me] may have life, and have it to the full” (John 10:10).  Indeed, Peter describes life without belief in Jesus as an “empty way of life” (1 Peter 1:18).

We all have a deep yearning for life (dare I say that this is why even those who are 'not religious' cling to a belief that life continues in some way after death?) because God did not create us to die.  The apostle Paul reminds us that death came into the world through the sin of Adam, but that Jesus' death atoned for sin and his resurrection brings new life in the present and eternal life in the future to those who believe in him (Romans 5 and 6).  Thus what was lost in the Garden of Eden is restored and the new heavens and the new earth described in Revelations 21 and 22 are characterised by life in intimate communion with God.

We yearn for life because God has placed eternity in our hearts (Ecclesiastes 3:11).  But we often look for fullness of  life in the wrong places - in family, jobs, achievements, wealth, popularity, health or... But, as the angels said to the women at Jesus' tomb that first Easter day “Why do you look for the living among the dead?” (Luke 24:5)  So if you want life, come to Jesus who is the resurrection and the life (John 11:25).

I am what I am

Here's my February magazine article:

Lent is often a time for introspection and self-examination; a time for assessing one's life. Three common responses to this self-reflection centre around the phrase: “I am what I am”.

The first use of this phase is a pessimistic resignation: “I don't like who I am but I can't change it (even though I've tried)”.

The second is the more common use, signified by the hit song of that title from the musical La Cage aux Folles. Used this way the phrase is a celebratory declaration of pride in who you are, warts and all, and regardless of what anyone else thinks about it.

The third use, perhaps surprisingly, is to be found in the Bible: in 1 Corinthians 15:10, the Apostle Paul says “by the grace of God, I am what I am”. Although the second use is also sometimes given a religious overtone: “I am the way God made me”, the way Paul uses it is completely different. He is talking about his status as an Apostle, one of the select group who were acknowledged as having the highest teaching authority in the early Church. He says that because he used to persecute the Church he shouldn't be called an apostle, but he is because of God's grace, God's undeserved favour, and not because of anything Paul himself can take credit for. Paul knows he's been given a position he doesn't deserve, so the glory for who he is is God's alone.

Paul's phrase was picked up hundreds of years later by John Newton, the slave-trader-turned-abolitionist who wrote “Amazing Grace”. Towards the end of his life he is quoted as saying “though I am not what I ought to be, nor what I wish to be, nor what I hope to be, I can truly say, I am not what I once was; a slave to sin and Satan; and I can heartily join with the apostle, and acknowledge, 'By the grace of God I am what I am.' ” In his self-examination he acknowledges his faults but neither despairs at them nor celebrates them. Instead he looks at how through God's grace and help he has repented and is reforming and will continue to do so.

Anyone who honestly examines themselves will agree with Newton's assessment: “I am not what I ought to be, nor what I wish to be, nor what I hope to be” because “if we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us” (1 John 1:8). The choice then is what we do with this assessment: do we despair that we could ever change, or do we celebrate our sins as being essential parts of who we are? Or do we, with Paul and Newton, acknowledge our failings and repent of them in the knowledge that “if we confess our sins, God is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:9)

The Snowman melts

Here's my talk for this year's Memorial Service, the reading was 1 Corinthians 15:12-26:

Christmas is a time that's full of traditions. Even these days, when we all get our news and entertainment from a myriad of different sources, the Christmas traditions of repeated TV shows and film have the power to bring us together. One of these staples of Christmas is The Snowman.

A few years ago, I realised my youngest child had never seen this film, so I decided to sit all the children down to watch it on Christmas Day. The older children weren't that interested in it, but reluctantly sat down too. As you know the boy, James, creates the snowman, which magically comes to life – at which point one of the older children turned to the youngest and said “He melts at the end!”

That put a bit of a dampener on it! But in some ways it was a very insightful comment on the film, because The Snowman is not a film about the joy and magic of Christmas, it is actually a film about death. Raymond Briggs, who created the story, said that the story was designed to introduce children to the concept of mortality.

Briggs himself struggled with his grief. He was an only child and his parents died from cancer just nine months apart in 1971, and his wife died from leukaemia just two years later. Briggs was still grieving when he created The Snowman a few years after. He is quoted as saying “The snowman melts, my parents died, animals die, flowers die. Everything does. There’s nothing particularly gloomy about it. It’s a fact of life.”

We all have different journeys of grief, but part of that journey must involve coming to terms with the reality and finality of death. The person we loved is no longer with us, they have gone and we are parted from them. At the end of the film, the snowman has melted and all James is left with is the scarf and his memories.

The same is true for us, when a loved one dies, all we are left with is some physical objects that are linked with them and our memories of them. Today we have another opportunity to recall those memories we have.

However, although memories are good, it is not helpful to say that our loved ones live on in our memories – that places an incredible and impossible burden on us. Our loved ones do not die if we forget to think about them because they are dead already. Remembering them is good, but not remembering them is OK too.

The Snowman ends with James kneeling in the snow, holding the scarf, distraught at the death of his friend. There is no happy ending. Death has the final say.

In his letter to the Corinthian church, the apostle Paul says “If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied.” Christians believe in the resurrection, in the possibility of life after death, but if there is no such thing as life after death, if death does indeed have the final say, then Christians are fooling themselves and are in a worse position than those who don't believe in an afterlife at all.

But, Paul says, Jesus has been raised from the dead and those who belong to him, those who have a true and lively faith in him, will also share in that resurrected eternal life. And when Jesus returns, he will reign and destroy death itself. Death doesn't have the final say. Jesus does.

In The Snowman, Raymond Briggs presents us with the truth that death is a reality and has a finality to it. But this is only a partial truth. One of the reasons we celebrate Jesus' birth is because through his life, death and resurrection he defeats the hold that death has on us. Without him, death wins and we are lost forever. With him, life wins and those who belong to Jesus will live forever.

Photo by Gemma Evans on Unsplash

The night before Christmas

Here's my article for the December and January magazines:

Our Christmas traditions and celebrations come from many different places and cultures, but perhaps one of the greatest influences on our perception of Christmas is the 1823 poem “A Visit from St. Nicholas” by Clement Clarke Moore, more commonly known by its first line: “ 'Twas the night before Christmas”. In this poem Moore describes St Nicholas, names his reindeer, and has him coming down the chimney to deliver presents. This eventually became the standard legend of Santa Claus, replacing many of the local variations on the theme of Christmas visitors. However, we should probably have also noted Moore's warnings in his follow-up poem “The Night after Christmas” which describes the children being visited by their doctor after having too many of the treats delivered by Santa!!

The phrase “The night before Christmas” evokes all those feelings of anticipation for the joy of Christmas, but in his book “The Air We Breathe”, Glen Scrivener uses it in a different way. His book describes how the Christian message underpins the way we view life and the values we hold, noting particularly the contrast with the values of the society into which the Christian message was first preached. He describes that culture as the night before Christmas.

The metaphor of night is very apt as it reminds us that the values that we think of as obvious, natural and universal (Glen highlights the values of equality, compassion, consent, enlightenment, science, freedom and progress) are “profoundly alien” to the culture, assumptions, beliefs, intuitions and ideals of the pre-Christian and non-Christian world. It's not that the ancient world was a little bit worse than our Western world, rather it is as different to us as night is to day. But we've spent so long in the light that we can't imagine what night would look like and therefore can't believe it ever existed.

Glen reminds us that Christmas, Jesus' birth, marked the end of that night. Some claim that the celebration of Christmas is pagan in origin, pointing to similarities in celebrations and even the concept of a god coming to earth. However,even before he could walk or talk, Jesus' birth is in stark contrast to the myths around at the time. In those myths, humans are created to be slaves or entertainment for the gods, and when a god comes to earth it is usually to kill, rape and destroy – and all should fear. But when Jesus is born the Almighty God becomes human (John 1:1-14) and the world is told to rejoice (Luke 2:8-20). Humans have dignity because they are made in the image of God and because God chose to become human. And from that good news flows all the values that form the 'day' we live in.

Jesus' birth has influenced and shaped our world more than Moore's poem has influenced our celebration of Christmas. This Christmas why not find out more about the Jesus who brings the morning which shatters the night that we had before Christmas?