That sentence is often quoted at Memorial Services for those who gave their lives for their country. It was written by Laurence Binyon in 1914 under the title "For the Fallen" and is now almost a household word as we pray for those who have died in our name.
Today, as a Liverpool fan, I would like to re-dedicate those memorable words to 96 young people who went out "singing battle songs" to watch their team play in the semi-final of the Cup against Nottingham Forest. They never came back. They died in the most horrifying circumstances imaginable, crushed to death, trampled on, fighting for a little space in which to breathe. Sadly, it was not granted them.
That was 24 years ago tomorrow, April 15th 1989. The date is burned on the hearts of everyone in the city of Liverpool and far beyond it. We will never forget them. They are at the heart of everything we do here. They are of course, in our mind's eye, always young, always eager, always brave and always showing the fighting spirit that has made this city great, even to those last, tragic moments of their lives. They deserve to be called heroes and heroines. They have earned it.
They were villified: lied about, sneered at by those who should have known better. This was the terrible burden their parents, grandparents, friends and fellow fans had to bear. That was the real tragedy - the victims couldn't deny the charges against them. But others could and did. The 24- year fight for justice by the relatives of the dead has given all of us hope that there is light at the end of this dark tunnel. There is justice after all - they didn't die in vain, they didn't leave a memory of drunken louts urinating on the police, they didn't bring about their own destruction. That is Resurrection. We are so grateful to all those brave, dedicated people who fought for justice for their relatives in spite of all seeming evidence to the contrary. They knew that the truth lay somewhere else, and they were right. They put their trust in God, and he led them to those who could help them. We owe those brave people a debt we will never be able to repay fully. May the God, who is never outdone in generosity, charge their tenacity with peace, hope and forgiveness. To have known people like that, we are blessed.
In this time of Resurrection, we too give thanks, not only for the example of others whose inspiring leadership has uncovered truth and restored hope in our city, but also to those who hold on in spite of illness, pain, injustice and death. They are the unrecognised saints, and they come from all ages, all nations, all religious beliefs and none, at least in their own eyes. Thank you! God bless and reward you for showing the rest of us what true Resurrection really is. It is holding on in the darkness and waiting until the light appears. And it always does appear.
Tomorrow, remember those who died with a prayer, and thank God for those who fought to clear the name of those they lost. This is the last part of that poem I mentioned. Read it and be inspired by all those who have led us to the light of truth and the fullness of life.
They went with songs to the battle, they were young;
straight of limb, true of eyes, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted.
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old;
age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
we will remember them.
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