Just occasionally (;-) ) I am thankful that nobody would ever entrust a particular service to the laity. It is particularly true of Remembrance Sunday. It is a terrifyingly vertiginous balancing act. There we sit. Those like me, lifelong pacifists, terrified that it will all slip into the glorification of war. And there sit those who believe with equal passion that we need to defend ourselves and fight for right. And there is a real need to acknowledge the heroism of those who put their lives on the line because even if the cause is misplaced the nobility of sacrifice is still there. And there is a need to acknowledge the horrible futility of war: at best a descent into the barbarism of the toddler years.
The dispassionate part of myself who sits in as recorder on the rest of my feelings, would like to note that last Sunday at Kilmarnock, that razor wire tightrope was successfully negotiated.