Today is the 100th Anniversary of the Armistice that ended WWI. And the great and good are talking about the losses taken, and the scars that remain. It is worth noting that there were war poets: Lewis was one.
III.
Of this we’re certain; no one who dared knockAt heaven’s door for earthly comfort foundEven a door – only smooth, endless rock,And save the echo of his cry no sound.It’s dangerous to listen; you’ll beginTo fancy that those echoes (hope can playPitiful tricks) are answers from within;Far better to turn, grimly sane, away.Heaven cannot thus, Earth cannot ever, giveThe thing we want. We ask what isn’t thereAnd by our asking water and make liveThat very part of love which must despairAnd die and go down cold into the earthBefore there’s talk of springtime and rebirth.
In times of crisis, it hehooves us to be grimly sane, Though the narrative of such times mocks truth, honour and duty, and says that all that matters is the pleasure of the moment, such is a lie: one that cannot sustain you in times of trial.
But Christ can. Though in this life all too often there is but pain. Let us pray for comfort for the families who have lost a husband, father or friend, and for healing for those who the current terrors have wounded.
But when society doubles down on their lies, we to truth must remain.
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