Let us pray: O God, we long to be part of a world that is transformed from violence to peace. We long for ways to resolve differences that respect human life. Guide us to see what we can do, what we can say, what we can learn so that this desire comes closer to the vision we hold of what it means to live as a community of your people. Amen.

I haven't done this, but I suspect that if I were to do a word study on my past reflections, that the word “perspective” would show up with great regularity. It's a good word. It informs my understanding of the importance of the scriptural record and it defines my interpretation of what it means to live as people of God. Jesus was one who seemed always to be able to offer a different perspective. No matter the situation, in my analysis of his method and style, he is someone who could always look through a different window, glean important, but perhaps unregarded insights from a situation, raise them with his listeners and thus draw a wider circle of compassion, understanding and inclusion, which in turn helped them to frame a wider view of God and God's presence in the world, which of course was Jesus' first intent all long – namely to help people draw a wider and more well-defined understanding of God.

As someone interested in this idea of perspective I try to be open to new insights myself. If God is a God of connections, then there are always more of them to discover and every new situation offers a journey of discovery as we strive to learn more about God and our purpose as God's people.

And so it should not be a surprise that this double goal of looking for new perspectives and looking for hidden connections was part of the planning process for this morning's reflection. Let me first describe the context. For very good reasons, I and the worship committee decided in order to honour both the anniversary celebration last weekend and our usual Remembrance observance on the Sunday before Remembrance Day, that we would postpone our Remembrance observance by one week. You've seen some of the result of that already – a bulletin cover, liturgy, and music. But this choice also introduced something new – the fact that our own observance of Remembrance Day would come after the day itself. And that changes perspective – even if only slightly, and a change of perspective offers an opportunity to gain new insight that we may not have considered before. That is only part of the context. Each month I am responsible for a worship service with the residents of Aven Manor and it so happened that this past week was my turn in the regular schedule. It is on Thursday mornings, and so it came just one day after Remembrance Day, and in anticipation of this morning's worship I chose to use the theme for worship at Aven Manor as well. The third piece of context is one that I've offered before – one that honours “connections” as an important path to learning more about God in the world. It offers a style of bible study which names a “current event” or an issue before delving into an assigned set of scripture passages and uses that event or issue as the key to the scripture study. In other words, the scripture passages are used as a lens, or as a kind of perspective for the particular subject of interest.

Now because I have never marked Remembrance Day in worship after November 11, it is very unlikely that this set of readings have ever been used as the basis for Remembrance Day observance. So, already there was the possibility of something new. Also, because Remembrance Day is over, it is quite likely that our thoughts and feelings have moved past the ones we experience in the days leading up to and including Remembrance Day. Once again, an opportunity to experience a new perspective.

And so I read the passages this week with my mind on the themes that come naturally when reflecting on the idea of Remembrance – something that always conjures up a complex set of emotions and ideas, as we struggle to honour the sacrifice of countless thousands in the two world wars and the Korean war of the past century and the hundreds of others that are an unrelenting part of our present situation, as we continue to hear the saddening news reports from Afghanistan, and the call we sense from God to live in peace, to resolve conflict in ways that respect human life, but also to respect the divine purpose of freedom from oppression and the desire for justice among all citizens of the earth. It seems nothing but an understatement even when we call them complex.

Surely these are issues too weighty, too bowed down with point and counter-point, too complicated perhaps for even the brightest human mind to consider.

It's easy to be discouraged. But we are people of hope. That's why we are here. It is hope that brings us together. It is hope that calls us forward. This, however is not a sit back and wait, bide our time, turn away from the pain and heartache, kind of hope. It is a lived hope, a hope that we put into action – making example of our faith and trust in better times ahead.

Never having read the story of Hannah with Remembrance Day as a background before, what were my thoughts drawn to? The plight of mothers. How much of a difference is there between the situation faced by Hannah – that of being childless – a common, sad theme of many stories in the Hebrew bible, and a mother who loses a son or daughter in the prime of life in Belgium, France, the Netherlands, at Kapyong in Korea or outside Kandahar just because we decided as a human race to resolve differences by sending the strong and the young to fight in wars. I attended the local Remembrance Day ceremony so I did not watch the National Remembrance Day service on television but I was told that one of the most poignant moments was when Governor-General Michaelle Jean invited Silver Star mother Debra Morley to step forward while they all watched the parade of veterans march past the national cenotaph. Such moments cannot help but bring thoughts of pain and regret as we wonder why it has to be that parents should be called to suffer the death of their children. The great cause of freedom, which is always cited as the reason for these sacrifices, is well founded, but one cannot help but wonder why it has to be this way, and wonder whether there can be a different way.

Hannah lived in hope. She put her hope before God – praying earnestly for a child. As we heard, her hope was realised. The writer of Hebrews, also lived in hope, but it was a hope that wasn't just to be wished for, it was a hope that needed to be lived out. The example of Jesus is cause for us to live our lives in hope. And then we had that enigmatic reading from the gospel of Mark – a passage that presents both the fear and excitement that are part of imminent change. Jesus promised a new age, and while it was described in rather stark and dark ways, I believe that as people of hope we are called to imagine a world where peace, not war is a backdrop to our every desire.

But just as the people addressed by the letter to the Hebrews, we are called to do more than imagine a world where peace is the basis. It must be part of a lived hope. Every transforming movement, every positive action, every change for good in this world starts with a few people with a new idea, with a vision for the way the world can be. Like drops of water that gather to form pools and then streams and then rivers and then lakes and oceans, we can be people who live our hope through our own peace making, peace keeping and peaceful ways of living. We can be people who are united for peace, not war. We can join the movement to form a Department of Peace in our federal government structure so that minds are turned in a new direction, a direction which sees peace as the basis for all of our actions – as a basis for the resolution of conflict, as a basis for the way we live out our governance, as a basis for the ways in which we deal with everything.

Yes, it is a complicated, complex dream, but I firmly believe that if it is something we truly desire and I haven't met many people who don't name it as such, then it can happen. We are God's people which by definition means we are people of hope.

I also realised as I neared the end of the time I had for this reflection just how complicated this is, for there were many more things I had to say. For example, the crucial role that the requirement for justice plays in creating real peace. I began by talking about perspective and connections. I just made one more, namely that we soon will be in the season of advent – a season of the church year that connects both hope and peace – which are conveniently the traditional themes for the first two Sundays in the advent season. So, let me close today by saying this – stay tuned... Amen.