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Good Morning, In two days time Christians will mark Ash Wednesday and the beginning of the Season of Lent. It will start forty days of fasting, abstinence and repentance leading up to Easter. At ceremonies across the world, Christians of many denominations will have ashes either marked on their foreheads or sprinkled on the top of their heads. As this happens you hear the words ‘Remember thou art dust and onto dust thou shalt return’. It is a reminder of the passing nature of life, and that one day we too will die. Wearing the Ashes symbolises a desire to lead a better life and to seek healing and forgiveness for the times we have failed to live up to the Gospel values. On Friday last in Dresden, at an event to mark the 70th anniversary of the Dresden bombing by the allies, in which 25,000, mostly civilians perished, the Archbishop of Canterbury said he had profound feelings of regret and deep sorrow. The Archbishop’s words spoke of a lifetime’s experience of forgiveness between Dresden and Coventry, each sharing in the memory of war and the liberating power of forgiveness. On an individual level we have the example of the late Eric Lomax, a British soldier tortured by his Japanese captors. Much later in life Eric had read an article by one of his tormentors, Nagase Takashi, in which he expressed regret for the way he had treated one particular British soldier. Eric realised Takashi was writing about him. They eventually met and Eric wrote at the time, ‘I had come with no sympathy for this man, and yet Nagase, through his complete humility, turned this around. In the days that followed we spent a lot of time together, talking and laughing. We promised to keep in touch and have remained friends ever since’. I believe that to reflect on the past whether as an individual or as a collective, and to ask forgiveness is not a sign of weakness, but a sign of our humanity and wisdom. For Christians it is Christ like. But as with faith, it often goes against the grain and leaves us vulnerable to criticism and charges of being weak. And yet such acts of forgiveness are profound in and of themselves and take immense amounts of courage. There is little weakness in asking for, or accepting forgiveness. Perhaps if we had as many acts and words of forgiveness as we have of revenge or hatred, then we might be more humane and avoid repeating some of the hatreds humanity throws up in each generation. Lent is a time for us to examine our own calls to forgive and to be forgiven, and to reflect on what we are doing today as individuals or as a society, which we will regret in the days and years ahead. What is our Coventry or Dresden? And who is our Eric Lomax or Nagase Takashi?