Michael Jackson
Anglican Bishop, UK
  

My friends, brothers and sisters, Members of the Community of Sant�Egidio, members of the international community for peace - I bring you greetings from Ireland and from the people of Ireland. We are a country of deep ambiguity: open and friendly, bitter and divided. Both Bishop Richard Clarke and I are privileged to be here among you, among friends, and we bring with us the affection of the people of the Church of Ireland for the Community and all its work. Our prayers join with the prayers of all of us on what I hope I might be permitted to call the Pentecost of World-wide Faith for Peace.

Our common theme is our common goal: the peace of the world as a vision, a hope and a need on the part of all people of faith. In this work the Community of Sant�Egidio has caught the vision and sustains the vision daily by prayer, by worship, by generosity and by action. Since last many of us were guests of the Community in Rome in February of this year there have been so many human situations world-wide which still cry out for peace. Daily the needs of the world for peace challenge the workers of the churches to be architects of justice in order to be builders of peace, artisans of community. The individual and the institution are called again and again to herald the in-breaking of the Kingdom of God. Individuals on their own are not strong enough. Institutions on their own are too strong for their own good. The tension and the trust between both is needed. The Kingdom � part revealed, part hidden - is the energy of the Gospel in our day as in the days of Jesus Christ. The Son and the Spirit combine with the Father to propel all people to peace in a respect for human life which knows no boundaries but recognizes head-on the impediments of greed and cruelty, of hatred and fear and especially in Ireland today of sectarianism and racism. The respect for human life is both strong and fragile. The vulnerable teach us what it is to give when we are in need. The poor teach us what it is to share when we are in pain. God stands beside these people as does no single institution and so must we, whoever, wherever, whenever they are. This is our calling as the international community of peace with justice and peace with love.

The words of Archbishop Rowan Williams to the peoples of The Solomon Islands recently are words which we can all of us take to heart in terms of our own selves and in terms of our own religion and faith: �A history of suffering and division need not teach us to be bitter; we can let God use it so that there may be restoration. Whenever we carry our cross, when we accept and use our suffering for the glory of God to make peace with others, then the world begins to change.� (Many will recognize the instinctive Augustinianism of his argument for the good use of what is evil/bene uti malo.) These words are a particular challenge to the Christian people of Ireland where human sensitivities have been deadened by over-exposure to religiosity and to the repeated erosion of authority by the assumptions of power in politics as in religion.

It is my great pleasure also to share this platform with my friend Dr David Porter, a pioneer in bringing to the forefront of social and political life in Northern Ireland the values of the Kingdom of God and the generosity of the Gospel of God. David has himself worked tirelessly to define the urgency of thought and action which batters on the doors of the churches in Ireland summoning us to address a world which is post-Conflict, post-Christendom and post-Modern. This three-fold distinction I have found to be particularly helpful in reading the religious geography of a relatively small country, with no more than 5,500,000 inhabitants, a country which is deeply Christian, profoundly denominational and politically antagonistic all at the same time.

The historic Christian heritage of Ireland is internationally acknowledged. The significant problem today is precisely that the churches are seen increasingly as �part of the problem.� The increasing irrelevance of expressed Christianity to so many people cannot all be laid at the door of wanton secularisation. A Christianity which is at variance with itself, which is divided denominationally in such a way that there is insufficient evidence of an active mutuality of respect for those of other denominations, has after centuries of setting the agenda without due recognition of its calling to unity in Christ a steep gradient to climb if it is to win and retain the respect of many of its own adherents and of those who are not members of the churches and yet are members of the society. Christianity in Ireland has for too long been understood in terms of independent and mutually exclusive denominations rather than in terms of a human experiment in the expression of the divine unity. Political antagonism in turn gives a new twist to the religious definition of who people are and impedes their becoming who they might one day be (1 John 3.2).

The Borderlands between Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland, where my own diocese is located and where much of my work is done, have particular challenges, difficulties and opportunities. They are largely forgotten by the people who make strategic decisions for the future of NI and the Republic of Ireland. Border areas � as any of you will know from your own countries � are often both interesting and problematic at the same time. Identity is less self-confident and therefore more defensive than is the case when individuals and communities feel that they are part of a secure expression of a cultural and political self. In Ireland the basic question still is not yet: And who is my neighbour? (Luke 10.29) but: And who am I? There are many disparate and incoherent identities. The Borderlands have also seen intimidation, aggression, human tragedy worked out on successive generations in the history of modern Ireland. This prevents any benign predictability of relationships which of itself would equip people with trust of one another. The intimate knowledge which close-knit communities have of one another paradoxically impedes rather than stimulates harmony and co-operation in such a scenario.

When I became bishop of the diocese of Clogher in 2002, I spoke of my desire to share a Gospel of hope in a landscape of fear. That fear is real, yet that hope remains strong. Peace is uneasy. Local politics are stagnant. Morale is low. Most people further south cannot see what our problems are and become increasingly frustrated in their incomprehension. Turning to world peace, it is conventional to see Ireland as a place which needs help. It remains a flash point five years after The Agreement. We have received much help and have learned much in receiving this help. It is easy to say we have achieved little. This is too cynical a view considering the deep hatreds, the societal immaturities and the unforgiving memories which abound in insular societies. What help, I ask, can we give? What have we learned that we can offer to others? Some things come through as of central importance in the Irish quest for peace. They are of international relevance, of wider usefulness:

(1) Keep challenging negative assumptions about yourself and about other people. In a world which combines fanaticism and apathy with alarming genius do not allow the negative to triumph and do not hand over to others the definition of who you are.

(2) The person knows no genuine fulfilment without being part of the community. It is our experience that community building may fall far short of aspirations for Christian ecumenism and for Inter Faith encounter. Yet it is much better than community destruction.

(3) Draw strength from the wider picture and keep it before you at all times. The absence of any genuine interest in Northern Ireland in belonging emotionally to Europe makes a vast difference in the self-confidence of its people when compared with the Republic of Ireland.

(4) The north needs the south and the south needs the north. Keep the current of friendship and of information flowing. Do not let your country cease to know itself.

(5) Deal with the past, do not sweep it under the carpet. Otherwise it will return dirtier than ever.

Finally I offer you one small example of hope for the future from the past. Almost two hundred years ago in 1814 the Reverend Thomas Rafferty, parish priest of Cooneen (in Irish: the place of the rabbits) in the Diocese of Clogher moved to another parish in the diocese after distinguished service which was universally recognized. He was presented with an Illuminated Address on behalf of all members of the community. In its words we find living hope that in Ireland today peace and harmony, co-operation and community can be rediscovered from what is already there and do not always need to be invented from nothing. I conclude by quoting from the Illuminated Address: �Sir, the strict and benevolent discharge of your duties as a clergyman, and the mild and conciliatory manner which has marked your conduct in private life during a long residence amongst us have most deservedly merited our appreciation. Deeply impressed by these sentiments we cannot allow you to depart without this public acknowledgement of the regret which we, Protestants as well as Roman Catholics, feel at your removal, and of our most sincere wishes for your future happiness and prosperity.� Let us hope that this spirit will rise once more.