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Lest we forget

One of our local heroes of faith is Worcestershire priest Geoffrey Studdert-Kennedy, vicar of St Paul’s. An army chaplain in the First World War, the soldiers nick-named him Woodbine Willie for his practice of cheering soldiers with free cigarettes. Less known as a war poet than many others, his poems are nonetheless often more accessible, and a vehicle for his pastoral theology. At his funeral the streets of Worcester were blocked by the crowds of ex-servicemen who had come to pay their respects for the way in which he had touched their lives, and gained their admiration and devotion.

His poems (which are available online) offer a wide range of reflections on the place of God both in the carnage of war, and in the growing religious bafflement of the early twentieth century. Here is a selection of three of his shorter poems. I shall be referring to them in some of our Remembrance Day ceremonies tomorrow.

Waste

Waste of Muscle, waste of Brain,
Waste of Patience, waste of Pain,
Waste of Manhood, waste of Health,
Waste of Beauty, waste of Wealth,

Waste of Blood, and waste of Tears,
Waste of Youth’s most precious years,
Waste of ways the Saints have trod,
Waste of Glory, waste of God,–
War!

Solomon in all his glory

Still I see them coming, coming
In their ragged broken line,
Walking wounded in the sunlight,
Clothed in majesty divine.

For the fairest of the lilies,
That God’s summer ever sees,
Ne’er was clothed in royal beauty
Such as decks the least of these.

Tattered, torn, and bloody khaki,
Gleams of white flesh in the sun,
Raiment worthy of their beauty
And the great things they have done.

Purple robes and snowy linen
Have for earthly kings sufficed,
But these bloody sweaty tatters
Were the robes of Jesus Christ.

If ye forget

Let me forget—Let me forget,
I am weary of remembrance,
And my brow is ever wet,
With tears of my remembrance,
With the tears and bloody sweat,–
Let me forget.

If ye forget—If ye forget,
Then your children must remember,
And their brow be ever wet,
With the tears of their remembrance,
With the tears and bloody sweat,–
If ye forget.

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I'm Doug Chaplin, parish priest and human being. Sometimes I have thoughts I want to share. Sometimes I have thoughts I should keep to myself. Sometimes I get them confused. Happy browsing.

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