This last Monday and Tuesday I was in Belgium visiting war cemeteries and battlefields. I heard stories of amazing bravery and courage. I saw thousands of gravestones marking the burial places of soldiers and among them the graves of chaplains who gave their lives to support the lives of others.
I wrote this poem to reflect on the feelings stirred within me as I stood in the cemetery.
I stand in silence and look out at the sea of white stones;
a peace fills the place that was once filled with war and pain.
The birds sing in the trees, the manicured lawns glisten, dew topped green in the midday sun.
My eyes become fixed on a name, a title that matches my own.
A reverend on the battle fields, a padre to those men;
A sacrificial ministry which meant sacrifice to the end.
Padres stood side by side with soldiers as they fought
Like our saviour who laid down his life for his friends, a sacrifice for us.
Offering reassurance, when likely filled with fear;
Supporting those young boys with a touch of a hand or a comforting embrace.
When faced with the words 'I don't know your God'
Saying with confidence 'but he knows you' there is no need to be afraid.
Being a light in the darkness, a place of stillness as gunshots fired around
Loving each man as if his own, helping them to know they were not alone.
Offering the bread and wine of remembrance, in fellowship with one another;
Constantly praying as any moment could be the last of a man that has become a brother.
I stand in silence and look out at the white stones;
A peace fills the place that was once filled with war and pain.
I put myself in the place of the title that matches my own;
I give thanks for their sacrifice, for our country's loss, but heaven's gain.
I wrote this poem to reflect on the feelings stirred within me as I stood in the cemetery.
I stand in silence and look out at the sea of white stones;
a peace fills the place that was once filled with war and pain.
The birds sing in the trees, the manicured lawns glisten, dew topped green in the midday sun.
My eyes become fixed on a name, a title that matches my own.
A reverend on the battle fields, a padre to those men;
A sacrificial ministry which meant sacrifice to the end.
Padres stood side by side with soldiers as they fought
Like our saviour who laid down his life for his friends, a sacrifice for us.
Offering reassurance, when likely filled with fear;
Supporting those young boys with a touch of a hand or a comforting embrace.
When faced with the words 'I don't know your God'
Saying with confidence 'but he knows you' there is no need to be afraid.
Being a light in the darkness, a place of stillness as gunshots fired around
Loving each man as if his own, helping them to know they were not alone.
Offering the bread and wine of remembrance, in fellowship with one another;
Constantly praying as any moment could be the last of a man that has become a brother.
I stand in silence and look out at the white stones;
A peace fills the place that was once filled with war and pain.
I put myself in the place of the title that matches my own;
I give thanks for their sacrifice, for our country's loss, but heaven's gain.