November 11th is Canada’s Remembrance Day. It is an opportunity for each of us to remember the many who have sacrificed their time, their health, and even their lives to ensure freedom for our country. For those of you who have been in military service for our Country, we sincerely thank you.
Freedom is to be enjoyed, but it must constantly be guarded. It comes at a price. I encourage each of us to purchase a poppy and support the care of our veterans. As is our tradition, I encourage each of us to take time out of our busy schedules on Thursday at the 11th hour of the 11th day, of the 11th month to remember those who gave their all for us. Lest we forget!
Canada is a wealthy country and perhaps one of its greatest riches is its freedom. We have a nation that still has the liberty of worship. All people are welcome to worship and serve whom they choose. This is often taken for granted and that is a great pity! Whether soldiers realize it or not, their fight for freedom includes our freedom of religion and to openly express our relationship to our God. May we never forget to Praise our Lord for this country and those who continue to fight for it.
John McCrae
Lieutenant-Colonel John McCrae was a Canadian poet, physician, author, artist, and soldier during World War I, and a surgeon during the Second Battle of Ypres, in Belgium. He is best known for writing the famous war memorial poem “In Flanders Fields”. Sadly, McCrae died of pneumonia near the end of the war.
It is said he was inspired to write the poem after witnessing that the first signs of life springing up among the European war graves were poppies. From some accounts, it took him only 20 minutes to write the poem. He was born in Guelph, Ontario which is about one hour’s drive east of our church.
In Flanders Fields
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.