This morning, many of us stood at the end of our driveways, Standing At Dawn to commemorate Anzac Day. This was a new way to mark the day, but held just as much meaning. As the Last Post sounded and the Ode was read, we took a moment to remember our fallen, those who had given their lives in times of war.
Anzac Day has been part of our national heritage since 1916: over 100 years. Over that time, the service has taken on a number of forms, and served a number of purposes. During the war it was a time to get together, a memorial service for those who died overseas, a time to pray for those who lost loved ones. At the conclusion of war it offered a time of thanksgiving as well as commemoration. And always it had been a reminder for us – a focus for our minds – lest we forget.
Under normal circumstances, the residents of Birkenhead join together to march from Highbury to the Birkenhead War Memorial in Mahara Ave, as part of the Anzac Day parade. There, alongside many others during the service, someone usually lays a wreath on behalf of our church.
Some also attend dawn services at the Auckland Cenotaph, or the North Shore service at Browns Bay. These can be especially moving, as the crowds and uniformed servicemen and women assemble quietly in the dark. Marching together to the parade ground, they stand in solemn and reverent memory of what has passed, and the sacrifices made.
As they stand to attention, the mournful cry of the trumpeter's lament calls out: the Last Post, which signals night has come. The flags are lowered, the descent into darkness and death is complete. All seems lost. Death has won. The world is silenced.
But that is not the end. The trumpet wake-up call of the Reveille breaks the silence, signalling the start of the new day. The flags are raised just as dawn breaks over the land. Light and life has returned. A life of freedom and liberty, won for us by the blood shed on our behalf.
Greater love has no man than this: to lay down his life for his friends. (John 15:13)
The light grows, bursting into glorious day, revealing the gathered crowds, and the world around. Solemnity has gone, vanished with the darkness. There is a sense of triumph, of a task well done, of hope for the future. People start talking to one another, enjoying each others' company, the sense of community that comes from meeting together for a common purpose. Instead of silence, there is a happy babble of voices. And the promise of breakfast – at the RSA, in cafes and in homes – feasting together in celebration of life.
Each Anzac Day we gather together to commemorate those servicemen and women who gave their lives that we might have freedom.
But in doing so, we also commemorate the greatest sacrifice of all: Jesus Christ who shed his blood that we might have life in all its fullness. Death has been vanquished. Christ has the victory. We no longer reside in the silence of the dark night, but live in the light of his glorious day.
In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness,and the darkness has not overcome it. (John 1:4-5)
As Keith Getty & Stuart Townend wrote in the hymn "In Christ Alone":
There in the ground His body lay,
Light of the world by darkness slain:
Then bursting forth in glorious day
Up from the grave He rose again
And as He stands in victory
Sin's curse has lost its grip on me,
For I am His and He is mine
Bought with the precious blood of Christ
Image credit:
ANZAC Day Dawn Service at Wellington Cenotaph. Last post played by the NZ Army Band. New Zealand Defence Force from Wellington, New Zealand / CC BY 2.0
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