The cross is precious to Christians, the centre of our salvation, the place of God’s forgiveness and grace to us, the place where human sin does its worst and loses, the measure of God’s love and the divesting of all human righteous. Of course, it is the Christ on the cross who is so, not the thing we may put round our neck. Sometimes, the thing is sentimentalized.

Especially this year commentators have noted how than cross was unmentionable, the nastiest instrument compelling Roman dominance. If you do not conform to our control, well, even this… My friends have noticed for a while that I am a bit preoccupied with military issues, but I am persuaded that this is a big part of the Gospel, the Christian Good News. Killing, murder, war, domination litter all of human history. The stuff goes all through the Bible and the twentieth century. Killing with weapons is understood as power. We talk of “superpowers”. This is power as control – empires, wars, threats, domination. Still most people understand power this way. Brits have it in our blood. Send us victorious. Actually we have it in other people’s blood in China, India, the Antipodes, Africa, North America and Europe. Even now the world believes it runs on this kind of power. But this is not the power of God.

We know from Christ that God’s power is gentle, patient, serving and for all. That should not surprise us, for the God of the Big Bang has got down to hawthorn blossom and DNA and useful photons for us, the intricate glorious providence of the creation that we in our pride are trashing. The power that creates, forms, transforms and forgives is of Christ, and the power that destroys is of Rome, Napoleon, the British empire, the Third Reich, the US and USSR Superpowers. In part the Cross is Christ triumphing over this power to kill, even disarming it. And, really, the power to destroy is no power.

The Gospel, the Good News, taken around the world on the whole without guns, works. Make love not war allows peaceful communities. No guns means peace. Don’t fear, says Jesus, and eliminates the need for nuclear weapons and, as we call them conventional weapons, to kill. Loving enemies works in Lancashire and Yorkshire. Christ has done the work in the long journey to the Cross, in taking on the miserable powers of control and violence, even to death on a cross. The Lamb is on the Throne. His sword is just words from his mouth. Fear God and you will then have nothing else to fear. Blessed are the peacemakers; it works. Still the world has not heeded his warning – “those who take the sword, will perish by the sword” – though every century proves it, including the 21st. Peace is the only practical way to live, and war is vastly idealistic. “You will be home for Christmas” they said in 1914. “Mission accomplished” said George Doubleya.

God’s way works. Yet, we Christians have been intimidated into fear. There was fear of the Hun, of “godless Communism”, of “appeasement”, Cold War fear, all worked up by the militarists and arms companies. We have not wanted to be traitors to British, or American, Nationalism. We have bought into might is right, or at least Our might is right and deserted the Gospel. We have a service for “our” Continuous at Sea Nuclear Deterrent, as though it has actually done anything rather than be a self-important sewer for billions. We fit in with the State; it is our Anglican duty. We have deserted the Gospel of the healing of the nations. We have ignored the basic biblical sense of swords into ploughshares which could solve most of the planet’s problems. We do “peace in your heart” or a kiss in the isle rather than God’s peace for humankind. We Christians are in an unholy huddle.

“Father, forgive them for they know not what they do” speaks our non-comprehension, how we are taken in by the militarists’ fear mongering. But now we do know. “My peace I leave with you” says Christ. “GO in peace… ” Two billion Christians around the world, understanding the way of the cross, can do this thing. We can, quite easily, disarm the world. Faith can move this mountain.