Genesis 3:8-15; Psalm 130; 2 Corinthians 4:13-5:1; Mark 3:20-35

Five years ago, Sinclair Mackintosh who with his wife Sandie used to live in the house behind St Finnbarr’s came into Church a short while before the Sunday Service and showed me this small tan attache case. When we opened the case, it revealed a ‘Field Communion Set’ of the type issued to the Padres of our armed forces and those of many of our allies. Sinclair’s Father, who had been a minister in the Free Church in Canada, had enlisted as a Padre in the Canadian Army during the Second World War. 

Prior to his bringing it in, the contents of this case had last been used at Juno Beach, during the D-Day Landings of 6 June 1944. He’d been clearing out as he and Sandie were moving to a smaller house and he felt that the case and its contents would be more use to us in the Church than stuck at the back of his wardrobe.  Sadly Sinclair died in September last year.

After Sinclair had left, I started wondering about that day now 80 years ago and it’s impact on us now.  We have heard a lot about the D-Day Landings over the past few days as political parties seek to make capital out of it. But let us return to reality – 21,000 troops landed on Juno Beach on D-Day, approximately 14,000 of them were Canadians from the Third Canadian Infantry Division and the Second Canadian Armoured Brigade, the remainder were British. Of the Canadians who landed: 340 were killed, 574 were wounded, and 47 were captured. 

Now D-Day is generally considered to be one of the allied ‘successes’ of WWII, but notwithstanding that, the allied casualties on D-Day are estimated at 10,000, including 4414 deaths with the remainder wounded or missing; a salutary reminder that wars bring much destruction, suffering and grief, whoever is considered to be the ‘winner’.

This week, up and down the land, we’ve been remembering those who’ve gone before us and what they’ve contributed to the way that we live our lives today.  This was particularly true on Thursday, the 80^th anniversary itself.

It’s often very difficult to judge at the time, what impact people or events today will have in the future. Will particular figures go down in history as visionary and inspiration leaders, who whilst not fully appreciated in their time have left a lasting and positive legacy, or as people whose ideology and poor judgement made them instigators of hard times? It’s much easier to judge in retrospect those who’ve been major influences on our lives, those who have made us the people that we are today.

In our Gospel this morning there are three groups of people who surround Jesus. The crowd who swarm around Jesus and whose actions suggest they want to see more of what he’s doing. Then there are his family who think that he’s probably lost the plot and want to whisk Him away before something dreadful happens to Him or he gets into serious bother – they’re probably rather embarrassed by Him. 

Then there are the Jerusalem scribes who’ve what they think is a pretty straight-forward explanation for His behaviour – He’s possessed by Satan. These scribes have dismissed the possibility of it being God’s action in the world (because God only acts through people approved by them) and so they simply write it off as the work of Satan. Around them, people are being set free from their demons, people’s dignity is being acknowledged and people are experiencing wholeness and affirmation. And yet the scribes scoff and denounce all of it as false and dangerous and definitely not of God.

Jesus shows them the absurdity of their position: “How can Satan cast out Satan? If Satan has risen up against himself and is divided, he cannot stand, but his end has come.”

He chastises them for being so narrow minded, spiteful and unable to accept what they see with their eyes, but all to no avail. God is there, God is working amongst the people, God is right in front of them. In front of them people are being set free from their demons, people’s dignity is being acknowledged and people are experiencing wholeness and affirmation, whether or not those in authority can see it.

At the time it must have seemed to those in authority and even to Jesus’ family that His mission was a total failure. He died mocked and ridiculed by Crucifixion, one or the cruelest execution methods ever devised, judged to be a dangerous revolutionary who broke all the rules, mixed with all sorts of undesirable people and had to be done away with. His ministry lasted only three short years, and when he died his disciples went back to whatever they were doing before he came along. You wouldn’t expect such a person to leave a lasting legacy.

But how wrong those in authority can be, over the two millennia since His Resurrection, the Christian Faith has motivated and inspired many people, and helped them through difficult times – not bad for someone who was regarded as mad or possessed by Satan. Perhaps they were all missing the point. What was it we heard in our Gospel?

A crowd was sitting around him; and they said to him, “Your mother and your brothers and sisters are outside, asking for you.” And he replied, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” And looking at those who sat around him, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers!” … and then the crunch line … “Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.“

Over the last 80 years the Christian faith has played no small part in the life of the military. The armed forces still value their Padres as an important part of providing support and maintaining morale amongst their personnel. These men and women, whilst remaining unarmed, go to war with the rest of the soldiers, sailors and aircrew as brothers and sisters and are there for them when they need someone to talk to.

Today we’re going to use that Canadian Field Communion Set in our celebration of the Eucharist, a visible and very tangible connection to those who fought on the beaches of Normandy and in other places and in other wars. This wonderful gift that I used throughout the Covid pandemic, has the effect of bringing some of those who we remember this week very close indeed. “Do this in Remembrance of Me” we say at the Eucharist and today we “Do this in Remembrance of Those who took part in the D-Day Landings ” also.

Amen