Isaiah 40.28-31, Matthew 5.1-12
Battle of Britain Memorial Service, Bridestowe, 16/9/2012
They mounted up with wings like eagles - my childhood heroes, the fighter pilots, the brave men of the air whose skill and courage saved us from a dangerous enemy.
I was born into the post-war generation which was the first not to have experienced the realities of war first-hand, but for whom the signs of World War Two were evident everywhere - in the geography of the place I lived in, a city still rebuilding after the blitz; in the stories told by the adults I lived with, my parents recalling childhood air raids; in the culture whose heroes were the victors of the Second World War, chief among them the daring airborne youths of RAF Fighter Command.
One of the first films my Dad ever took me to see at the cinema was The Battle of Britain, an epic depiction of the airborne conflict, with Skipper Robert Shaw leading the brave British fighters to victory.
Back home, my bedroom often became an arena of war, with me at the helm of Fighter Command, in the shape of the Airfix model Spitfire I’d made and decorated, manouvering it through the air in pursuit of a plastic Luftwaffe plane. And my heroes were the tiny plastic pilots glued into the cockpits, steely-eyed, accurate, lethal craftsmen of the air.
Before the space race began and a young boy’s fascination turned to the exploits of aluminium-suited astronauts, my heroes were those who we recall and commemorate tonight - the 3,000 pilots and aircrew who thwarted the intentions of Hitler’s airborne forces in what became known as the Battle of Britain, in the summer and autumn of 1940.
Looking back, I think that they were heroes of an innocent age, an age where the lines between enemies were clearly drawn, and where the rules of engagement were well-defined and adhered to. Those engaged in the Battle of Britain knew exactly who they were fighting and what they were fighting for. They knew precisely what to do and performed their task with precision. Those engaged today in Afghanistan and other complicated conflicts find themselves in arenas of deep ethical and operational confusion.
I’m not sure that today’s youngsters can have the same sort of heroes as you or I did, for we now live in an age where conflicts are complex, where enemies are hidden, slippery, anonymous, where military ethics can no longer rely on a shared sense of common vision or purpose, but have to depend on the morals of the individuals involved in a particular place at a particular time.
In an age of lost innocence, if there are any heroes at all, then they take on a different shape. We can’t rely on them to always be right and do the right thing. Even today’s comic book heroes are flawed: Bruce Wayne’s Batman is a paranoid character, his self-obsessiveness forces his loved ones away from him.
So we might ask, who are the heroes in an age of lost innocence? Who are those to whom we and our young people should now look for inspiration and guidance and direction? You might expect the vicar to say that the answer is, of course, Jesus - and Jesus is often heralded as an all-conquering hero in a simple battle between good and evil. But if you know your gospels then you’ll know that he himself spent most of his time trying to shake off the hero tag which people would hang on him. And that instead, Jesus pointed his audiences towards a very different type of hero altogether. The type of hero we might adopt for our times.
If you know your gospels then you’ll know that the age that Jesus lived in was an age of lost innocence, a complex political arena with his people, the Jews, under Roman occupation, and himself and the common people and the hierarchy all embroiled in the arguments between various factions pulling in different directions.
And so the people towards whom Jesus was drawn were characters whose personal qualities were shaped in a complex and difficult world.
‘Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven’, he said. The hero is not the confident one, but the one who struggles in life, who knows their limitations.
‘Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted’, he said. The hero is not a triumphalist victor, but one who feels deeply the loss and pain of the world.
‘Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth’, he said. The hero does not have military force or political power, but a quiet trust in God to provide them with all they need.
‘Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled’, he said. ‘Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.’ The hero looks towards others in compassion, deals with others with grace.
‘Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God’, he said. The hero is not the ‘peacekeeper’ who carries a gun to enforce stability by intimidation and fear, but the ‘peacemaker’ who has cultivated the ability to resolve conflicts without resort to violence.
‘Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.’
The hero should not expect universal praise for their actions, rather opposition in this world. But in Jesus’ view the hero is one whose eyes are fixed on heaven - whose moral code is based not on patriotism or operational command but on a deeper sense of the goodness and righteousness of God. In Jesus’ view the hero is one who lives in anticipation of the promises of God. This hero can live with complexity, because they are living in trust and hope. This looks like a hero for an age of lost innocence.
Some of you knew people who flew in the Battle of Britain, and had the Battle of Britain Clasp added to their 1939–45 Star. You may even have flown alongside them. And you will know that many of these people were motivated not solely by a narrow patriotism or in blind response to operational command, but did have a deeper moral code driving them - perhaps a faith, a sense of the goodness and righteousness of God directing them. That is why they remain heroes to us in our age of lost innocence.
But you will remember them perhaps, not primarily as heroes at all, but as ordinary people called on to perform extraordinary tasks, and doing that with devotion and dignity. And that, I think, is at the heart of what Jesus tries to teach us about heroes - that heroes are not exceptional people, they are ordinary people who reach out to grasp the ability to do exceptional things.
Perhaps the child who flew the Airfix Spitfire in his room was not as innocent or naive as I earlier suggested - for he knew he was playing a game. In those moments the child who felt able to take on the world knew that he was still just a boy in a bedroom. But he also knew that if called on to perform great tasks he would be able to draw on forces beyond him, he trusted there would be forces of good and guidance to drive him. This is they way all true heroes act - ordinary people asking for help from a greater power so as to be heroes of this and every age.
The Lord [...], the everlasting God,
does not faint or grow weary;
his understanding is unsearchable.
He gives power to the faint,
and strengthens the powerless.
Even youths will faint and be weary,
and the young will fall exhausted;
but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength...
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