Today, 25 April 2026, Australians and New Zealanders will rise before dawn across cities, towns, and remote communities. At war memorials, beaches, and cenotaphs, we will stand in silence as the first light breaks — remembering the ANZACs who landed at Gallipoli 111 years ago, and all who have served our nations in war, conflict, and peace.
This is not a day of triumph or conquest. It is a day of profound gratitude, solemn reflection, and quiet hope. And for those who follow Christ, it carries an even deeper resonance.
The Spirit of Sacrifice
The ANZAC spirit — mateship, courage, endurance, and selflessness — echoes across the generations. Young men, many barely out of their teens, left homes in Adelaide, Auckland, Melbourne, and beyond. They faced impossible odds not for glory, but for something greater: the freedom and safety of those they loved, and the hope of a better world.
In the words of the Apostle John, preserved in our national memory on countless war memorials: "Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends." (John 15:13)
This verse was not written about soldiers. It was spoken by Jesus on the night before His crucifixion. Yet how powerfully it illuminates the courage we honour on ANZAC Day. Those who served gave their lives — or years of their youth — so that others might live in peace and freedom. Their sacrifice points us toward the ultimate sacrifice: Jesus Christ, who laid down His life not only for His friends, but for His enemies. For you. For me. For the whole world.
While war brings heartbreak and loss, the ANZAC legacy also carries redemption. From the blood-soaked beaches of Gallipoli and the jungles of Kokoda, through peacekeeping missions and modern conflicts, we see ordinary people displaying extraordinary love. They remind us that light can shine even in the darkest valleys.
Hope Beyond the Grave
ANZAC Day is not merely about death. It is about lives freely offered so that future generations could flourish. As Christians, we know this pattern well. The cross was not the end — it was the doorway to resurrection. The empty tomb declares that death does not have the final word.
On this day we rightly say, "Lest we forget." But we also remember the greater promise: that those who die in Christ are not lost, but safe in the hands of a loving Father. As the dawn service rises with the sun, we are reminded of the hope of Easter — that morning when light conquered darkness forever.
A Call to Live Worthily
So as we gather today — at the Shrine in Melbourne, the Cenotaph in Sydney, the memorials in Adelaide, or your local dawn service — let us do more than remember.
Let us be inspired. Let us live with the same courage and selflessness. Let us pursue peace where we can, stand for justice, care for the vulnerable, and love our neighbours as Christ loved us.
To the veterans among us, to the families who still carry the quiet grief of loss, and to every Australian and New Zealander: thank you. Your service and your loved ones' sacrifice have helped secure the freedoms we enjoy today — freedoms to worship, to gather, and to proclaim the hope we have in Jesus.
Greater love has no one than this.
May the God of all comfort draw near to every heart touched by war. May He grant us His peace — the peace that surpasses understanding — and may we walk in the light of Christ's sacrificial love every day.
Lest we forget. And may we never forget the One whose sacrifice makes all things new.