Sutton Civic Act of Remembrance and Service of Remembrance

It was a privilege for St Dunstan's to host the Sutton Civic Act of Remembrance and Service of Remembrance as we gathered to reflect on the sacrifice and ongoing significance of the world wars of the past century and subsequent conflicts.

We welcomed the Mayor of Sutton, Councillor Louise Phelan; the Deputy Mayor, Councillor Cumar Sahathevan; the Deputy Lord Lieutenant, Vice Admiral Sir Adrian Johns; the Chief Executive of Sutton Council, Helen Bailey; the Right Honourable Luke Taylor, MP for Sutton and Cheam; as well as councillors and past mayors.

Our Rector, the Reverend Dr Nicholas Peacock gave the following sermon, reflecting on the place of the poppy at Remembrance:

On Remembrance Sunday, we find ourselves surrounded by powerful symbols and stirring words.  The poppy, so familiar to us at this time of year, holds deep significance in our annual act of remembrance.  It is more than just a flower—it is a poignant reminder that draws our minds and hearts towards those who gave everything in times of conflict.

For this morning, I chose two poems about poppies to frame our reflections.  By the war memorial, we heard that incredibly famous poem, In Flanders’ Field.  It was written by a Canadian soldier, John McCrae, in 1915 after the loss of a friend in the Second Battle of Ypres.  Those ragged red poppies, flourishing amidst the devastation, moved McCrae to pen words that have echoed down the generations.  First published in Punch magazine, the poem quickly became iconic, and it was thanks to these verses that the poppy became one of the most enduring symbols of remembrance, especially among Commonwealth nations.

Then a few moments ago, we heard Simon Armitage’s poem, written for this year’s 80th anniversary of the end of the Second World War, and 110 years since McCrae’s famous poem.  Armitage builds on McCrae’s imagery.  He conjures vivid pictures of poppies we ourselves have seen on roadside verges and in open fields.  They are fragile—flimsy, wavering, seemingly weightless—and yet, they pop up anywhere and everywhere, thriving in the most unlikely and inhospitable places.  Their vibrant red draws the eye, as the flowers nod and nag at us in the breeze.  As Armitage points out, they ask the persistent question: do we remember?  After so much time, do we truly keep in mind the lives given up for our freedom?

It is worth noting that these poppies are not the cultivated flowers we might nurture in our gardens.  They are wild plants, technically weeds, whose seeds are scattered by the wind, often creating chaos.  When poppies take root among wheat and other crops, they compete fiercely for nutrients, sunlight, and water—sometimes seriously impacting the harvest.  This delicate and beautiful flower, this celebrated flower can, if left uncontrolled, become destructive.

Jesus often spoke to the farmers, villagers, and townsfolk he met about wheat and weeds.   His parables regularly remind us of the importance of separating good growth from harmful weeds.  If we allow weeds to flourish, they will hold back the fruitful plants from thriving, and may even cause them to wither and die.  In this, Jesus teaches us a vital lesson: he longs for us all to flourish; he longs for our world to flourish.  But this requires careful discernment—individually and collectively—to separate the good from the bad, the wheat from the weeds.

So, the poppy at Remembrance is not only a symbol of the sacrifices made in the world wars and other conflicts since.  It is also a call to action.  As we remember the ultimate sacrifice made by millions, we pledge ourselves to do all that we can to prevent such destruction from ever happening again.  The persistent nodding of these delicate flowers prompts us to ask hard questions:  What are the weeds in our own lives and in our world that are holding us back from flourishing?  What inhibits healthy growth, and what threatens to bring about the kind of devastation we gather to remember and resist?

We find ourselves today in a world more unsettled than it has been for decades.  Power has shifted; old alliances feel insecure and can no longer be trusted; even our own country is divided, deeply unsure of its identity and place in the world.  There are forces at work, visible across Sutton and beyond, sowing weeds among us—things that might seem attractive at first, like the poppy, but, if left to spread threaten to stifle and hold us back from flourishing.  Now more than ever, we must heed Jesus’ teaching and do all we can to separate the weeds from the wheat.

But how do we do this in a world that seems so intent on violence and division?  Each year, the main Bible reading for Remembrance Sunday is the Beatitudes.  Here, Jesus lists those who are truly blessed by God—not the rich and powerful ot those who have the loudest voices, but the vulnerable, the littlest and the least, those who struggle the most.  This is where God calls us to focus our attention.  In caring for and standing alongside the most vulnerable, we find true growth and flourishing—not just for ourselves, but for everything from our local communities to our world as a whole.  If we could truly come to see this, then surely we can build a better world, surely we can step back from the edge and prevent ourselves from falling once again?

So as we look at our poppies today—delicate yet persistent, beautiful yet wild—let us remember those who sacrificed all.  May their memory inspire us to commit ourselves to peace, justice, and reconciliation.  And let us go out of here this morning to search out the weeds in our world, in our country, in our communities, and in ourselves that hold us back, and, by God’s grace, work together to nurture growth that brings life and hope for generations yet to come.  May the poppy continue to remind us: not only to remember, but to act; not only to mourn, but to build a vision for a future in which all may flourish. Amen.