August should be such a jolly month, sun and sea, sand castles and ice cream, that it seems a pity to marr its image.

But we of the older generations remember that it is in the month of August that seeds of two world wars were sown. We remember too that August 6th is the commemoration of Hiroshima and we must and can never forget the impact of that terrifying day - interestingly being seen now by the mayor of Hiroshima as a day to renew our search for peace.

Then of course we are also commemorating the Battle of The Somme, ninety years on. A battle which began on July 1st 1916 and ended five months later on November 18th, causing such immense death and destruction but also provoking such courage and fearlessness as men fought for what they thought to be just and right - a courage which 51 Victoria Crosses bear witness to.

Add to all that a deep depression arriving from Germany, where there has apparently been some kind of competition going on, and August looks like a doomed month!

But thank God for our Christian faith! Our life and sustenance in Christ is built upon memory, Do this in remembrance of me, Jesus says, and the blessed hope that springs from that memory can never be diminished.

Christian hope is deeply scarred: it carries the bitter pain of the Cross, of Hiroshima, of The Somme, of Iraq and Afghanistan today, so it is not a hope which glosses over or ignores the agony of sacrifice.

It is however based upon firmer foundations that even our worst experiences, the loving gift of God in Christ, and the resurrection that flows through it. Hiroshima Day is also of course the feastday of the Transfiguration of our Lord. Christ's glory on the mountain and on the cross is real, Hiroshima and the world's suffering places are real, but the glory outshines the pain and transfigures it into something of majestic proportions.

So may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing. May August be a jolly month for you after all, and remember that the next World Cup is only four years away!

Michael Turner, Vicar of the Close