Sermon preached by The Very Revd Dr Simon Jones, Dean of Lincoln, on the 80th anniversary of VE Day.
In this great building the people of Lincolnshire have gathered in times of war and of peace. But which is it today? At one level this is peacetime, not least thanks to the sacrifice of the men and women whom we honour today, 80 years after VE Day.
But let’s not pretend that this isn’t also wartime. There are far too many examples of where the absence of conflict on the streets of these shores is not reflected elsewhere in the world, and though we’re often tempted to ignore that fact, we do so at our peril.
In the speech he gave on 8 May 1945, Winston Churchill said: “We may allow ourselves a brief period of rejoicing.” But, “Let us not forget for a moment the toil and efforts that lie ahead.”
We are living in an in-between time, just as our forebears in 1945 were. Victory in Europe had been won, but VJ Day was still three months away. And even when that day dawned, somewhere in our broken world, conflict was, as it still is, a bloody and painful reality.
As travellers through this in-between time, we gather this evening not to wallow in nostalgia, nor to sink into a pit of despair, but to honour sacrifice; not to ignore the cost of conflicts past and present, nor to glorify them, but to remember the price of hard-won peace. And from this starting point to ask of ourselves, what of us?
In that same speech in which Churchill carefully balanced rejoicing in the present with responsibility for the future, he recognised that Victory in Europe had been won not just by the armed forces but by the whole nation. “This is your victory”, he said to the people of Britain.
Here in Lincolnshire, the war touched every community. From the Wolds to the Wash, this county bore both the weight and the pride of its contribution. Our skies were filled with Lancasters and Wellingtons. The brave crews of Bomber Command—many of whom never returned—flew from bases across the county.
If this evening we feel any sense of pride that Lincolnshire gave more than any other county to the air campaign that helped peace dawn once again in Europe, are we also ready seriously to answer the question of what contribution each of us is willing to make towards peace in our day?
Churchill went on: “We must now devote all our strength and resources to the completion of our task, both at home and abroad.” That task was not just the ending of war, but the building of peace.
In Lincolnshire, this rebuilding was quiet but profound. The land, once lined with runways and military infrastructure, gradually returned to agriculture. Ploughshares reclaimed the airfields. Communities hard-hit by wartime industry and enemy bombing slowly discovered a new rhythm of life.
From the perspective of today we can say that VE Day was never just about victory. V also stood for ‘vision’, a hopeful vision of a new future.
Christians have a particular perspective on what such a vision might look like. We’re celebrating VE Day during Eastertide. As an Easter people we proclaim confidently that the greatest of all victories has been won and can never be undone. Christ is risen. Death has been defeated. And yet this victory doesn’t provide us with an ejector seat to remove us from the often painful reality of daily life, nor transport to a happily ever after ending. Rather it gives us hope, hope upon which to work towards a vision of God’s kingdom, a kingdom of justice, love and mercy, in the here and now.
In our first lesson this evening (Miach 4.1-4), the prophet Micah dreamed of a day when nations would beat their swords into ploughshares and learn war no more. Looking around the world today, not least in Ukraine and Gaza, and now this week also India and Pakistan, it’s very easy to throw up our hands in despair and ridicule such a vision as pie in the sky.
But no; the Christian faith proclaims that now is eternal life. And it’s the task of the Christian to identify signs, however small, of that vision of God’s kingdom breaking in here and now.
In Lincolnshire, over the past 80 years, we can point to what that can look like—not just some of the airfields returned to harvest, but communities once fractured and bereaved now revived and reknit by a shared remembering of the past and a shared commitment to the future flourishing of all.
But the realisation of that vision of peace is hard, its achievements are fragile, and it can easily be undone. Churchill was clear that peace must be safeguarded by justice. In his words, “In peace: goodwill.”
Peace with justice must always be part of the vision for which we long and work. In our time—when nationalism again stirs unease, and the lessons of history are easily forgotten—it’s more important than ever to remember. But we must also act. Yes, this is our nation’s victory. But, more importantly, it is also our nation’s responsibility – to remember and to act.
To remember the cost of war.
To honour the courage of those who served.
To prefer reconciliation to clinging onto long-held hatreds.
To unite communities that have become fragmented.
To raise up those who are most marginalised and vulnerable.
And, above all, to live sacrificial lives worthy of the sacrifice we honour today.
Yes, we may allow ourselves a brief period of rejoicing, as our forebears did 80 years’ ago. But, as those who live in wartime as well as peacetime, “Let us not forget for a moment the toil and efforts that lie ahead” and to which our nation, county, city and every one of us are called.