The beautiful bride, and the person here-to-forth to be addressed as 'Reverend Madam'! (The MC at the wedding venue addressed me consistently by this title/epithet/title and it amused me greatly)

A lovely day celebrating with a couple I have known for as long as they have been together.  Indeed when they met, I had just arrived in Glasgow and the new boyfriend heard rather a lot about this new minister.

Nine years, and lots of love, laughter, tears and struggles later, they covenanted together in marriage.

I can now add 'in a bar' to the list of places I have conducted a wedding ceremony (a terrace really, but it had a bar to one side).  The hotel was lovely, and the coastal setting truly stunning.  I met some lovely people and had some interesting conversations.  A number of folk went out of their way to thank me for the ceremony, including a (White British) Tibetan Buddhist who was thrilled that I had spoken of 'loving kindness,' which resonated with his beliefs.

On #WorldKindnessDay it was a gift to be asked to speak on 1 Corinthians 13, to draw out the chief characteristics of  true love as resilience and kindness.  It was fun to share some daft gifts with the couple, and a joy to share in the service we had created together.  May they know God's richest blessings in their life together, now and always.

Apparently it is #WorldKindnessDay this fact *may* be mentioned in the wedding address I will deliver this afternoon.  Meantime, be kind to yoursleves, gentle readers.

Names from memorial plaques erected by past generations

Endless cups of tea served to soldiers passing through Preston railway station during the Great War

The Shot at Dawn Memorial, and the Armed Forces Memerial at Alrewas in Staffordshire

Stories of men who followed their hearts, either into the army or into jail as conscientious objectors

The last letter of a boy young man who was to be executed for treason

A mandate to love enemies, to do as you would be done by

The messy space between binary alternatives of war and peace, honour and shame

A crucified thief who asked to be remembered after his death

Bread and wine broken to bring about remembrance and re-membering

Beautiful music and aching silence

Remember them

Remember me

Remember us

Remember

Re-member

(Two services, lots of encouraging feedback, and a very long day!)

A sonnet, by poet laureate Carol Ann Duffy, for Remembrance 2018...

The Wound in Time
It is the wound in Time. The century’s tides,
chanting their bitter psalms, cannot heal it.
Not the war to end all wars; death’s birthing place;
the earth nursing its ticking metal eggs, hatching
new carnage. But how could you know, brave
as belief as you boarded the boats, singing?
The end of God in the poisonous, shrapneled air.
Poetry gargling its own blood. We sense it was love
you gave your world for; the town squares silent,
awaiting their cenotaphs. What happened next?
War. And after that? War. And now? War. War.
History might as well be water, chastising this shore;
for we learn nothing from your endless sacrifice.
Your faces drowning in the pages of the sea.

© Carol Ann Duffy, 2018

This year I have prepared three Remembrance acts of worship for three distinct and separate contexts.

This afternoon it begins with a very low key reflection/meditation on the Shrouds of the Somme, and verses from the gospels about sparrows, hairs on heads and lives laid down.

Sunday morning will include the familiar Act of Remembrance, before reflecting through the lens of 'Honour and Shame'.

Sunday evening will a Communion Service on the theme 'Remember me'

If you ask preachers which Sundays they fear or dislike, Remembrance is always high on the list.  So easy to get wrong for someone or some reason.  So much expectation to manage.  So many complex ideas that could, and probably should, be explored.

Doing three in one year has been draining - and that's just the preparation.  By Sunday evening I expect I will be 'done'.

Somewhere I read that courage isn't 'lack of fear,' it's 'being afraid and doing it anyway'.  I find Remembrance scary, but I do it anyway, not because I am courageous, but because it matters that it's done, and done to the very best of my ability.