I was approaching Easter worship with some trepidation. Distrustful of the way the juxtaposition might be handled, especially in this land I love where "supreme sacrifice" is the phrase I hear most commonly in relation to diggers' deaths. Contrasting with my perception in New Zealand where the more prosaic "killed in action" appears on rolls of honour and memorials. And where ANZAC rhetoric has more to do with the futility of war than the birth of a legend. And so my muscles tensed on Sunday evening when the Uniting Church minister began the talk/homily with acknowledgment of ANZAC Day. It was not as bad as it could have been. He talked about a young man from the district who had heard the call to fight for God, King and Country against a "very bad enemy" and who had been killed in Anzac cove. The talk then meandered into various kinds of salute used in the defense forces, that a salute is a way of saying someone else is more important, and that the Easter greeting and response "Christ is risen. Christ is risen indeed!" is the way that Christians signal that God is the most important person of all.
There have of course been many comments about this juxtaposition.
At Defence Anglicans Chaplain Andrew Grills note that the clash " highlights the existence of two distinct religions. One, the faith in a crucified and resurrected carpenter which is seemingly doomed in the post Christian west, and the other, a resurgent religion that cherishes the sacrifices, upholds the virtues of its soldiers, exalts the Australian nation and suggests that the way to be saved is through cherishing and emulating the sacrifice of these diggers." and encourages Christians to redeem, rather than reject or receive, this day in our history.
Spirited Crone articulates some of my inner turmoil as she notes "Both Jesus and the soldiers at Gallipoli were killed by powerful regimes that wanted complete domination. ... The tragedy with Anzac Day and Easter is that we have been sucked into the idea that someone else has to die so that we can live better lives."
And a tweet also came up in the Google search "This Anzac/Easter coincidence is challenging. Trying to explain to kids why all those soldiers didn't rise from the dead three days later..."
And a political perspective reminding politicians of every persuasion of the strong religious roots of their organisations and challenging us to live believing that "the current imbalances and inequities are not only wrong, but that they can be changed, and hope resurrected, through political action."
So what would I have said if I was contributing to an Easter Day worship event on the eve of ANZAC? Within my extended family I know that the cousins Thomas and Donald, who died in the Great War, came from God-fearing families and that their faith would have been an integral part of their involvement in that war as indeed is was for their nephews and great-nephews in succeeding conflicts. But I would fall short of likening their participation in the enterprise of war to that of Jesus' participation in our life. They responded to defend a way of life where State and Faith were intertwined. Jesus' coming brought into focus the sharp contrast between the empires of this world and the Kingdom/Commonwealth/reign of Godde. And I would make reference to the Ataturk memorial inscription.
Those heroes who shed their blood and lost their lives, you are now lying in the soil of a friendly country. Therefore rest in peace. There is no difference between the Johnnies and the Mehmets to us where they lie side by side in this country of ours. You, the mothers who sent their sons from far away countries wipe away your tears, your sons are now lying in our bosoms and are in peace. After having lost their lives on this land they become our sons as well.
At this particular Easter the words of a hymn come to mind:
And when human hearts are breaking
under sorrow's iron rod
then we find that self-same aching
deep within the heart of God
The juxtaposition of Easter and ANZAC is, for me, an opportunity to remember that the One Christians worship knows the reality of the death of a child at the hands of others. And a time to proclaim that One love that is stronger than death. The common theme of love rather than sacrifice propels me to peacemaking. Which requires far more than commemoration of battles past or singing praises without action.
