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Address by Mary McAleese, President of Ireland At the Conference of the World Community

Address by Mary McAleese, President of Ireland At the Conference of the World Community for Christian Meditation

Ladies and Gentlemen, Brothers and Sisters, Friends.

I am delighted and honoured to be with you today, in this beautiful and historical setting of San Miniato. I would like to particularly thank the Abbot for his warm welcome, and my friend, Father Laurence Freeman, for arranging this visit to San Miniato, and so giving me this opportunity to meet with you, to share some of my thoughts and to listen to yours.

As we approach the beginning of the third millennium, we are provided with a unique opportunity to stop and reflect on the real meaning of this, the 2000th anniversary of Christ’s Nativity. That Nativity was the start of a journey – a journey in bringing anew to the world the message of God’s love and his wish for peace and unity between all His children. Today, all of us who profess to be men and women of faith, are charged with continuing that journey.

The approach of the millennium provides a focal point for reflecting on three inter-related issues: first, on our journey so far, and on the long sweep of both failures and successes that have marked the route. What lessons can we learn from the past that can assist us on our journey forward?

Second, we need to formulate a vision for the future, a vision of where we want to go, a vision of what type of world we want to have in the next millennium, a vision of how Christ’s message of love and unity can be realised in a world which is undergoing change at an ever-increasing pace.

Third, we need to map out a path for turning that vision into a reality. What are the practical steps that we, as men and women of faith, need to take in making this come true? What are the principles and tools at our disposal? What milestones of progress can we set to encourage us to persevere?

It is about these three issues – where have we come from, where do we want to go and how do we get there – that I would like to speak to you today.

The journey so far.

In looking at where we have come from, and understanding where we are now, it is clear that there have been both beacons of extraordinary hope and goodness, but also extremes of evil, degradation and hatred on that journey. In the past century alone we have witnessed the horrors of two World Wars, the abomination of Aushwitz, the killing fields of Cambodia, the cruelty of apartheid, the tragedy of famine in Africa, the massacres in Rwanda, Bosnia and Kosovo, the political violence which has bedeviled my own country, sectarian bloodshed on the doorstep of the birthplace of Christendom - the list is both endless and horrific.

It has caused good people everywhere to wonder if their work is in vain; to ask whether real progress is possible, if we can learn from the mistakes of the past and fulfill our vision of a better world? or whether, as Hegel put it: “experience and history teach us that nations and governments have never learned anything from history, or acted upon any lessons they might have drawn from it”.

We who claim the Christian faith must hereby acknowledge that all too often religion has been a contributory rather than a mitigating factor in spreading the ongoing cycle of hatred that fuels acts of mutual barbarity. It may be a deformed type of religion, a religiosity warped by men and women who have recreated God in their image and likeness, reducing Him to a superbully, a powerful political ally, a God of favourites, prejudices and vanities. We human beings have populated this world with small, mean Gods of narrow vision and cold embrace.

That sad and reproachful reality in the world around us is one which all of us who profess to be men and women of faith must acknowledge and work to redeem. As Christians, we can take hope from Christ’s message of love for the world, of hope when all hope seems to be gone. That hope sustains us when things are at their bleakest. It provokes us to keep looking for the green shoots of hope, nurturing them in their fragility, acknowledging the goodness which redeems the evil of which humankind is capable.

We are blessed that there are many people engaged in that struggle for redemption which begins in each human heart and which gives the radical prospect of allowing the grace of love to enter those hardened hearts and transform the earth.

Ireland is a prime example of how that seed of redemption can take root in even the most unpromising soil. It is a place where the shared history between the different Christian faiths has all too often been one of acrimony, mutual suspicion and murderous hatred. If love, unconditional and generous is the hallmark of the Christian, we have to humbly acknowledge that in Ireland, as in so many other countries, Christians have too often allowed the corrosive power of hatred, vanity and contemptuous rivalry to get in the way of realising Christ’s vision of love and unity.

Yet it is also a place where many courageous men and women have struggled to heal these rifts, to stretch a hand of friendship across the divide, to risk the rejection of the other side and the calls of traitor on their own, to try, to fail and to try again.

These quiet, often unnoticed but tenacious efforts have slowly borne fruit over the years. They have taken place more often at ground level, than at the top. They provide a signal to all of us that we are each called to show leadership in countering divisions and hatred, in bridging the chasm of understanding that exists between different religious and social enclaves. They call us to perseverance, to acknowledge that our timeline and God’s are very different, and that this moment we have in history, this present moment is the one we are called to fill out, to exhaust in the effort to make love and respect the energisers of our relationships from fireside to international forum.

We are surrounded by examples of how that hope, that belief in the possibility of transformation, not just in the political landscape, but in the hearts of men and women, has changed the seemingly immutable. We have witnessed the spread of individual rights, civil liberties and democratic participation to parts of the globe where only a few decades ago, such freedoms would have seemed unimaginable. We have seen the tragic Cold War, with its distorted relationships, give way to an increasingly trusting dialogue. Apartheid has been scuttled in South Africa. In the Middle East, in Ireland, and in many other countries, the slow, stumbling, difficult process of creating peace has begun.

At the heart of each process are men and women willing to risk an initial act of generosity in the hope it will open space for consensus to root and grow. Yesterday, in my address at Florence University, I spoke of how of the vision of men like Jean Monnet had wrought from the hatred and destruction of post-War Europe, an ideal of a very different Europe – which has developed into the European Union we have today, crafted with love by once bitter enemies, who together embarked on a unique adventure in respectful, caring partnership.

This gives us not just hope, but proof, lived proof that change is always possible, but that change does not happen by accident or serendipity. We must dare to imagine a future that is different from the present, and take those first steps in realising that vision. If everyone waits for the other to move, we have paralysis. Christ’s mission on earth was to show us how to be the voices of contradiction, the hands of his work, the instigators of change in the world.

A vision for the new millennium

The new millennium provides us with an opportunity to revisit Christ’s mission and formulate a new vision for our world – a vision that does not accept that the status quo is inevitable. A vision which tackles the inequality, lack of justice, violence and the violation of basic rights that still afflicts so many parts of the world. But a vision which also looks at the problems within our Western societies – not just in terms of material deprivation, but also the spiritual hunger, that search for meaning in life, the yearning for a set of beliefs and values to fill the void left by the increasing secularism and materialism of our communities, the increasing cynicism about institutional religion.

We face challenge, not an impossible mission. But neither is it a simply a platitude or pointless daydream. What it requires is faith, the belief that if each of us in our own way, big or small, work towards its realisation, then it can become a reality. As Newman has said “ten thousand difficulties do not make one doubt”. Those difficulties are our own Gethsemane, the hour we are called to be awake and doing God’s work in whatever field we labour.

As men and women of faith, ours is the responsibility to encourage the change required to make this vision come true. It is not a responsibility we can abdicate or pass on to our leaders, religious or political, to address on their own. As Sir Sigmund Sternberg, winner of the 1998 Templeton Prize for Progress in Religion, has told us “Initials on treaties, signatures on agreements, handshakes and embraces at the top table or the White House lawn – all these are no more than gestures if they are not also embraced in the hearts of the peoples”.

There are many things we can do at local level, in our own communities, in our own homes to start this process of change. But we also need a common framework which can provide the building blocks for constructing our vision of a more equal, more peaceful, and spiritually fulfilling life for all people.

A key element in building this vision, is the development and acceptance of a value system which is truly universal – which is accepted by people of different faiths, cultures and historical experiences. Such a value system cannot be imposed, it must find resonance within the existing values and world-view of each culture. This ethic would support and complement the Declaration of Universal Rights, for rights can only be truly vindicated if they are grounded in a common value system and commonly accepted guidelines for human behaviour.

The eminent theologian Hans Küng has been at the forefront of formulating such a global ethic which he described as

“a fundamental consensus concerning binding values, irrevocable standards and personal attitudes”. An obvious starting point in developing this consensus has been the religions of the world, for within almost every culture, religion has played a key part in influencing the development of value systems and ways of perceiving the world.

Despite the very real differences in doctrine and ritual that exist between these religions, Hans Küng recognised, through many years of dialogue with people of other faiths, that there is a common essence at the core of each which transcends these differences. Within that common essence is the Golden Rule that each of us learned as a child - “treat others as you would have them treat you”. This rule, far from being confined to Christianity, finds resonance among Jews, Muslims, Taoists, Hindus, Confuscianists and many more.

From this simple yet all-embracing foundation, Hans Küng formulated a set of ethical values which was taken up and endorsed by the Parliament of the World’s Religions in its 1993 “Declaration towards a Global Ethic”. That Declaration affirmed that “there is an irrevocable, unconditional norm for all areas of life, for families and communities, for races, nations and religions. There already exist ancient guidelines for human behaviour which are found in the teachings of the religions of the world and which are the conditions for a sustainable world order”.

The Declaration recognised the interdependence of all human beings on this small planet, the individual responsibility of each one of us for our actions and their consequences; our responsibility to treat others with respect; to forgive past wrongs; to extend a helping hand to those in need, particularly children, the aged, the poor, the suffering, the disabled; to treat others as equals, respecting their diversity.

This ethic, although it springs from a religious core, is not confined to any one religion and can be endorsed by those of faith and non-believers alike. Hans Küng has expressed the hope that “perhaps one day there may even be a UN Declaration on a Global Ethic, to provide moral support to the Declaration on Human Rights, which is so often ignored and cruelly violated.”

We are still a long way from the implementation of the values contained in that Declaration. Some would say that the world is not yet ready to listen to, far less to act, on the principles it proclaims. If it is to become more than an aspiration, if it is to have real meaning in the world of the next millennium, leadership is required – the leadership of the Churches and leadership by each one of us. In the words of Sir Sigmund Sternberg: “this must be a time for religion to emerge from the church, the synagogue, the mosque and the temple and help create unifying bonds between people which, while not blurring the dividing lines between faiths, could help create a sense of spirit able to soar above the mundane and which, if harnessed, could contribute to the creation of truly caring societies”.

The path to realising that vision

Are we ready for this call to action? Are our Churches, our religious communities, the leaders of our faiths and we, their members, so drained of confidence, so uncertain of our place in the world that we are unwilling to place our heads above the parapet? Are we so caught up in interfaith rivalry, in sectarian headcounts, in institutional vanity and squabbling that we are unable to respond to the pressing needs around us?

We must have the courage and the clear-sightedness to rise above our doubts and work together towards realising the vision that beckons. This vision is both a challenge and lifeline for the Churches. For in a world where for many people, religion seems increasingly irrelevant, it provides those who are willing to accept the challenge with a very real opportunity for re-establishing the relevance of religion in our fractured world.

We cannot change the world, however, unless we, too, are willing to change – to change ourselves and to promote change in the religious institutions to which we belong. As Newman once remarked, “to be human is to change, to be perfect is to have changed often.”

That change process must involve a greater level of dialogue and understanding between the different faiths. It is true that there has been some real progress on this front in recent years, but too often it is left to a few committed individuals. In other ways, the original energy and enthusiasm behind the ecumenical movement has flagged and lost direction.

We need to re-examine what we mean by ecumenism – real ecumenism - as we start the next millennium. It should not mean seeking the lowest common denominator, or washing the essence from each religion in order to achieve a uniform grey. If we wait for uniformity, we will remain immobile, each in our own bunker waiting in vain for the other to sound like us, look like us, think like us, before admitting them to our embrace. Unity – the unity God calls us to – is a very different phenomenon from uniformity. It celebrates and respects diversity. Why? Because the great author of difference, of diversity, is God himself. No two human beings are the same – each is utterly unique, even two identical twins are uniquely different individuals who are utterly loved by God, profoundly known by him in all their complex differences, in all their confounding similarities.

I am the oldest of nine children. Ask each of us to describe our parents and our lives with them and you would think we lived in separate families, so very intricately different would be our descriptions. Yes, there would be common assertions, but we lived through different times, related in our own ways. If I explain my views of our parents to my youngest brother, 18 years younger than me, he will learn much that he did not know or knew only vaguely. Similarly, his perspective will freshen and challenge mine. Put all nine together and my mother and father may well say “interesting, but you still don’t know us fully”. So it is with God, our Father and Mother.

Far from threatening our own faith and traditions, a generous openness to the richness of other faiths can be a wonderful learning experience which leads to a deepened and more satisfying understanding of our own. It is not always an easy process. It requires that we are willing to listen, to be open to change, and most of all, to recognise that what unites us is always more importantly that what divides us – our faith in God, in His infinite love, in His wish for dignity, peace and harmony for all His children.

If a profound breakthrough is to occur, however, we must look outwards with generosity and humility to people of other faiths and be prepared to build the kind of bridges which we will to underpin our vision of society in the next millennium. We have much to do in building these bridges – not least between the different Christian faiths. But Christ gave us the tools of grace and love with which to start this process and overcome past hatreds and suspicion. These bridges can become causeways of respect to all the great religions: Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist and Hindu and many more.

Already there are people quietly, patiently laying the foundation of firmer causeways to come. How wonderful it was to read of the recent retreat shared by Buddhists and Christians with the Dalai Lama under the very Bodhi tree in Bodghaya where the Buddha is believed to have attained enlightenment 2,500 years ago. The beautiful painting of the Nativity which the Dalai Lama had specially commissioned for the head of the Christian group, Father Laurence Freeman, here with us today, was itself a sign of the awesome respect which is possible and essential between those of hugely different perspectives, faiths and cultures.

The new millennium offers all of us an opportunity to take up this offer, to explore the forms this transformation might take in ourselves and in the world around us. In Ireland we have seen, with gratitude, the good which can come from even modest compromise and pursuit of partnership, the new energies which are unleashed by tiny generosities, even the most begrudged. The Peace Process is built on a philosophy of giving, of not seeking to be the sole triumphalistic winner, of pursuing consensus where possible, of accepting and accommodating difference.

That philosophy has brought us a long way towards peace in Northern Ireland. It has started to take root, but those roots are fragile. They are easily torn by the setbacks and difficulties that inevitably arise in the long, slow, painful path to true reconciliation. Sometimes it seems that we take one step forward, only to take two steps back. It requires hope, courage and determination to keep going in those difficult times. In Northern Ireland, all too often, we find it difficult to sustain those qualities. All to often, it seems to require the sickening tragedy of a horror like Omagh to rewaken the latent decency in people, to shake them back out of the bunkers to which they still retreat when things start to fall apart, to renew their determination to move forward. Could we finally agree to move beyond the need for the momentum of the last atrocity to keep this process on the rails? Let us find that momentum within ourselves, without the need for further blood to be shed, simply because it is the right thing to do.

I hope and I pray that it will be possible to achieve this. I have hope, because behind the work of the politicians there has always been the power of prayer, working quietly, subtly, unobtrusively but effectively, penetrating the tiny pores in hardened hearts, making spaces where none existed before. It is a power and resource which we have at our disposal and which we will need in the years ahead, if we are to break down the barriers of hatred, conflict and poverty in which our world is still ensnared.

That power is one which we should never underestimate. For if the world we hope to build is to be founded on dialogue, social justice, peace and caring, it will need to be nourished by a sense of God’s felt presence in the world, by the spiritual enrichment which prayer and meditation can provide. It is a resource, a powerful form of empowerment which, far from being distant from the maelstrom of politics and decision-making, is a force that can move the immovable, as both the Secretary General of the UN, Kofi Annan and Bishop Desmond Tutu have testified in recent months.

The World Community for Christian Meditation has an invaluable role to play in spreading that message, in extending the hand of friendship to other faiths and to a society in which many lack belief and yet yearn for spiritual fulfillment and hope. It is a message which teaches us that all things are possible through prayer – even and especially the impossible.

For those who still doubt, who fear disappointment, who lack the courage to make the leap of imagination and faith required for that new beginning – let me share with you a poem, which I quoted in my inauguration speech as President of Ireland. It was written by the English poet, Christopher Logue, a veteran of the Second World War:

“Come to the edge.

We might fall.

Come to the edge.

It’s too high!

Come to the edge

And they came,

and he pushed

and they flew.”

 

(Come to the Edge by Christopher Logue in Selected Poems, pub. Faber and Faber p.64)

It is an invitation, not a command; an invitation to take a risk, not on a solitary flight, unsupported and fearful, but surrounded by friends, and towards new friends and new opportunities on the other side.