Last Sunday I was down in the West of Ireland.  I met there, Brian and Mary, a couple whose wedding I celebrated almost twenty years ago.  Mary was holding in her arms their beautiful daughter, Ciara.  Mary’s mother was also there and she said to me, “You know that child is greatly treasured.  They waited fourteen years.”  Indeed, I could easily see the joy on the faces of those parents at the presence of their beautiful and long awaited daughter.

Today, we celebrate the birth of the Virgin Mary, the mother of Jesus.  I am quite sure that Mary’s parents Joachim and Anne, were truly delighted when their child, Mary, was born.  I am sure her arrival brought immense joy to their hearts.  They would have thanked God sincerely and often.  For, along with the rest of the people of Israel they too had been waiting.  They were waiting for God to keep his promise – the promise he made to Abraham and to his descendents.

Mary was the bearer of that promise for each of us and for all of mankind. Speaking of this feast of her birth, one of the Fathers of the early Church said: “Let the whole creation sing praise and dance and unite to celebrate the glories of this day. Let everything that is, in the world and above the world, join together in rejoicing, for today a Shrine is built for the Creator of the universe.  The creature is made ready as a divine dwelling place for the Creator.”

This evening, here in St. Malachy’s Church, Armagh we are very well placed to sing praise in honour of the Virgin Mary’s birth. We are joined by the Charles Wood Singers and by those attending the annual Charles Wood Summer School for music.  We are also joined by members of the Ulster Orchestra under the direction of Conductor, David Hill. The Church Organist this evening is Daniel Hyde co-director of the Cambridge University Chamber choir.

Charles Wood, a native of Armagh, was also closely associated with Cambridge University. It was as professor of Music at Cambridge that he pursued his life’s work. It culminated in a legacy which included over 250 pieces of sacred music plus a large number of hymn tunes. One of those tunes remains popular today in the famous carol which runs;

Aye- maiden child of
Joachim and Anna.
Archangels chant Hosanna!
Come weal, come woe, our
hymn shall never vary.
Hail! Blessed Virgin Mary!
Hail! Blessed Virgin Mary!

Charles Wood was happy to acknowledge the debt we owe to Mary for her part in the great symphony of salvation. His life overlapped by some quarter of a century with that of Cardinal John Henry Newman. While still an Anglican, Cardinal Newman wrote this of Mary:

She is doubtless to be accounted blessed and favoured in herself, as well as in the benefits she has done us. Who can estimate the holiness and perfection of her, who was chosen to be the Mother of Christ? What must have been her gifts, who was chosen to be the only near earthly relative of the Son of God, the only one whom he was bound by nature to revere and to look up to; the one appointed to train and educate him, to instruct him day by day, as he grew in wisdom and in stature?

Cardinal Newman paints a very human picture of the daily intimacy between Mary and Jesus. This must have been such an important influence on our Lord’s early life. It made me wonder about something that I had never asked myself before. Would Jesus have celebrated the birthday of his Mother Mary? I am fairly certain that he did, even though it is not mentioned in the Scriptures. I am sure that, on the birthday of His mother, he would have thanked his Father in heaven for having given him such a wonderful example of what it is to be human, to be gentle and to be generous in the service of others.  I am sure He would have prayed for her that her faith in Him would never fail despite the temptations and the trials and tribulations which lay ahead.  I also wonder did Jesus always remember Mary’s birthday or did He sometimes forget? I wonder did He always make sure to be present in Nazareth with her on that day? 

I also wonder what part Jesus’ grandparents Joachim and Anne played in his early life? Grandparents have always been an important part of that intimate circle of family love which provides the most nurturing and stable environment  in which children grow.

Recently I received a letter telling me that a Sunday has now been set aside at our National Shrine to Mary at Knock here in Ireland specifically to honour grandparents. In an age when the traditional family unit is facing such pressure and change, it is grandparents who are increasingly called upon to provide the only realistic and affordable source of support for parents and children alike. It is often grandparents who are the sole voice offering children and couples wisdom and values beyond the prevailing mores of a materialistic society.

There are so many stars in our world – pop stars, film stars, sports stars. In his recent encyclical on hope, Pope Benedict reminds us that the real stars are those who have shown us how to live our lives well.

As we were reminded in our Office Hymn, since the early centuries of the Church, Mary has been known as a ‘star’ – the morning star – the ‘Stella Maris’ – the star of the sea.

St. Bernard of Clairvaux, close friend of St. Malachy, once wrote of this Star:

“If the winds of temptation arise; If you are driven upon the rocks of tribulation look to the star, call on Mary; If you are tossed upon the waves of pride, of ambition, of envy, of rivalry, look to the star, call on Mary. Should anger, or avarice, or fleshly desire violently assail the frail vessel of your soul, look to the star, call upon Mary.”

Today, in spite of their new technologies, sailors will often look to the stars for guidance. As we look for guidance amidst whatever darkness, storms or challenges we face in our own lives, let us call upon Mary. The feast of the Birthday of the Blessed Virgin Mary invites us to hold a steady course as this Stella Maris beckons us to the light of her Son, the eternal light of our heavenly home. Her birth is the prelude to the great symphony of salvation. Its crescendo is the union in her womb of the Divine Word and human nature.

We ask the help of Mary that this union will bear fruit in us.

Ave Maria, gratia plena – Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with you. Blessed are thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb – Jesus.

Holy Mary, Mother of God, Pray for us now – and at the hour of our death. Amen.

Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you for your warm welcome here today to Ballinasloe.  Some time, late last year, Bishop Kirby told me that in August 1858 the new St Michael’s Church in Ballinasloe had been opened.  He went on to say that the Preacher on that day was none other than Cardinal Nicholas Patrick Wiseman, Archbishop of Westminster, England.  Having heard that, it wasn’t difficult to guess what the next question would be – would I like to come here today and join all of you on this happy occasion as you celebrate 150 years of your venerable and beautiful Church. 

I have to say that I was very happy to accept that invitation for many reasons.  First of all, out of respect for Bishop Kirby himself, whom I have known for 51 years, ever since we were students together in Maynooth.  In more recent times, of course, as Chairman of the Executive Committee of Trócaire, Bishop Kirby has shown tremendous commitment and dedication to alleviating the needs of the developing nations of the world.  I am also glad to come here also out of affection for my many classmates, in Maynooth, from the diocese of Clonfert. 

When we went to Maynooth 51 years ago, in September 1958, my classmates on that day included:
•    Fr Christy O’Byrne, PP, Laurencetown,
•    Fr Benny Flanagan, PP, Carrabane,
•    Fr John Naughton, PP, Eyrecourt
•    and the late Fr Paschal Donohoe. 

I moved to the Irish College, Rome, in 1960, so also did Paschal, and for the next four years we walked the streets of Rome and tramped up and down the Seven Hills together.  The late Paschal used to take great delight in regaling us with stories of life in the West, in Galway, in the diocese of Clonfert in Garbally Park.  His descriptions of rugby and hurling contests had us believe they were equal to anything that took place in the Circus Maximus or the Roman Coliseum and, of course, there were some tall stories from the marts and fairs of Ballinashoe.

During my 13 years on the staff of the Irish College, Rome, from 1980 to 1993, it was my privilege to celebrate the weddings of a great number of Irish couples in Rome.  Many of those couples are from the diocese of Clonfert and they were always gloriously happy occasions.  Many is the time that the walls of Roman restaurants shuddered to the strains of the Fields of Athenry.

I feel greatly honoured by the decision of the Urban Council to grant me a Civic Reception.  Your agreement to this proposal, ladies and gentlemen, to mark my visit here today, to your lovely town, is a most gracious and delightful one.  I am well aware that you are honouring me in my capacity as Archbishop of Armagh, Primate of All Ireland and successor of St Patrick.  I am very proud to accept this honour.  I thank you most sincerely for it.  I am pleased to bring you greetings and good wishes from the City of Armagh and indeed from the diocese of Armagh.
I wasn’t lucky enough to be born in Co. Galway, a county so famed in song and story, in history and poetry, but I come from a county where there is huge respect for the citizens of this noble county.  Of course the displays of Galway teams in Croke Park, both in hurling and football, on so many occasions have added to that respect immensely.  Your footballers gave another such display last Saturday and were rather unfortunate not to have won.

I have a lot of admiration for people, like yourselves.  People who put themselves forward for local government elections.  Members of my family, on both sides of my family, were elected to such positions.  I think such willingness is essential for the survival of democracy.  I wish you well in your deliberations, great wisdom in your decisions and, of course, I wish continued success and prosperity to the citizens of Ballinasloe.

Every time I read or hear that Gospel – I am a little bit shocked.  Shocked at the way Our Lord behaved towards the Canaanite woman.  At first he refused to talk to her.  When he did talk to her it was to remind her that she was an outsider – a Gentile – a pagan – not a Jewess and therefore not his first concern.  Mind you, that was after the disciples had advised him to send her away or give her what she wants.  She was following them, making all this noise and generally getting on their nerves.  They wanted her to clear off.

•    But she was a mother with a sick child. 
•    A mother who loved her sick child
•    A mother who was determined to leave no stone unturned in her efforts to get help for the daughter whom she loved.

She is totally focussed. ‘Son of David’ she cried out. ‘Have mercy on me’.  Jesus answered:  ‘I have been sent only to the lost sheep of the House of Israel’.   Before his death the mission of Jesus was to gather all Israel – God’s chosen people.

Jesus did not want to go beyond the mission given to him by the Father.  He would preach to his own people first.  After all – it was they who were expecting a Messiah – and they might reasonably be expected to welcome the Messiah when he came. 
The thing that shocks is that not only the disciples, but Jesus himself, seems at first, to exclude.  “It is not fair to take the children’s bread and throw it to dogs” he says.  When Jesus referred to her people as dogs he wasn’t the first to make use of this taunt.  It was in common use among the Jews as a derogatory, disrespectful description of those who were not Jews.  Jesus knew that well.  The woman also probably knew it too.  Jesus was not implying that he looked on Gentiles, pagans, as dogs. 

Well what was he saying?

Perhaps he was saying, to this woman pleading for her daughter, that she was asking a lot.  She was asking for the miraculous healing of her daughter.  But more even than that – she was asking Jesus to give to her gifts that were, by right, not hers to ask.  She had addressed him as Son of David – the King of Israel.  There he was, the long-awaited Saviour of Israel – then Jesus, and the benefits of his kingdom belonged surely, firstly, to those who suffered in Israel, not to Gentile outsiders.

The woman is very quick to pick up the image in the answer given by Jesus and turn it to her own advantage – but without arrogance.  Her courageous humility bests her.  Perhaps it is right then, with this outsider who refuses to go away, that the real embarrassment of this story lies. 

Remember St. Matthew was writing from the inside, from Israel, from Jesus our people.  His audience is a Jewish people – the people who had been given the law and the prophets and the covenant.  And yet, it was this same people who took smug delight in their way of life – their fidelity to the Sabbath etc., who failed to see, in Jesus, their long-awaited Saviour. 

Then this outsider – this pagan – this probably poor woman with her sick daughter, simply refuses to go away from Jesus.  She simply refuses to take ‘no’ for an answer.  She flings herself down crying ‘Lord – help me’.  She has a sense of honour and she wins the debate. 

Even dogs are allowed a few crumbs from the children’s bread.  ‘O woman – great is your faith’ what else could he say.  What an immense compliment.  Maybe that is the real scandal of today’s Gospel.

Great is the outsider’s faith – so great a faith in fact that it puts the rest of us to shame.  What about our faith?  What about those of us on the inside who are heirs to a century’s old faith. 

I was in Nigeria two years ago and I saw people travel for days to attend a three hour ordination ceremony.  And for some of us for whom the Mass and our faith is our birthright, how little it takes to keep us away from Mass.  How little it takes to leave us skipping our prayers.  But this pushy, stubborn determined pagan woman saw in Jesus the help her daughter desperately needed.  Her persistence is an embarrassment to those of us who are more faith-healed.  She was hurting – she saw and she simply refused to be packed off empty handed.  ‘O woman, great is your faith’. 

This woman reminds me a lot of St. Monica.  She was married to a man called Patrick.  He was described variously as a pagan, a nominal Christian – a bad tempered man.  Her mother-in-law lived in the house and added to the difficulties.  Monica overcame her own tendency to heavy drinking.  By her patient perseverance Monica won over her mother-in-law and her husband.  He was frequently unfaithful but never struck her or physically ill-treated her.
It is as the Mother of St. Augustine that Monica is especially famous.  He was a wild man in his youth for many years.  Once again her patient treatment of him over many anxious years, ended up in his conversion.  She is regarded as the model of Christian mothers.  When Augustine was young she had him enrolled for baptism.  His irregular life-style caused her so much grief that, for a while, she refused to let him live in her house.  But she soon relented when advised that maybe the time of his conversion had not yet come. 

So she gave up arguing with him or asking others to do so.  She turned instead to prayer, fasts and vigils – pilgrimages – I suppose.  She was hoping that those would work where arguments had failed.

Augustine cleared off to Rome – from his native Africa – even deceiving his mother about the time of his departure so that he could travel.  He went to Milan but the bold Monica followed and caught up and enlisted more help.  To cut a long story short, he was baptised in 386 – at the age of 32 and he was totally and morally reformed.

Shortly before her death she told her son: ‘Nothing in this world now gives me pleasure.  I do not know what there is left for me to do or why I am still here.  All my hopes in the world are now fulfilled.  All I wished to live for was to see you a Catholic and a child of Heaven – God has granted me more than this in making you despise earthy happiness and devote yourself to His service’.  Another great woman of great faith.

A priest-friend sent me a postcard recently. It showed a farmer scattering the oats by hand in a valley in Cumbria in1952.  He carried a large sort of basket full of oats as he strode up and down the ploughed field. It reminded me of my father sowing oats or grass seeds about the same time – about fifty years ago.

A gardener friend said to me recently “A dry May and a little rain in June keeps the farmer in good tune”.

Of the course the farmer is in good tune when the crops are growing.  In today’s Gospel, Jesus obviously is describing a scene that was well known to him.  He talks about the sower gong out to sow his seed.  He knew well that for the growth to happen, four elements are needed,
seed,
soil,
sunshine and
some rain –

and then this marvellous miracle called growth takes place.

I have another friend who, every time we say grace before meals and bless the food and thank the Lord for food, this friend reminds us not to forget to thank Mother Earth who, year in and year out, produces the food and drink, the light and heat, the clothes and shoes and shelter that makes life bearable.
Too easily we forget the fact that Mother Earth works her great miracle each and every year by producing the crops even if we, who benefit from them, are so often quite indifferent and quite unthankful.

Today’s liturgy is mindful of these great miracles of nature which so enrich our lives.  They bring us food and flowers and fruit and fish of every kind.  Just listen again to the Responsorial Psalm and let us fill our lungs with praise of a great a generous God. 
You care for the earth, give it water
You fill it with riches
Your river in Heaven brims over to provide its grain
You crown the year with your goodness
Abundance flows in your step
The hills are girded with joy;
The meadows covered with flocks
The valleys are decked with wheat
They shout for joy, yes they shout.

But the Reading then moves on think of  another great sowing which takes place all the time.  It involves all of us, without exception.  There, the sower is none other than God himself.  The soil is the human heart, the heart of each one of us and the seed is the Word of God.

The First Reading tells us that the Word of God is effective.  It does the job.  It achieves its results.  Just as surely as the rain and the snow come down, and most certainly water the earth, and make it fruitful, producing seed for the sower and bread for the eating, in the same way the Word that goes forth from the mouth of God does not return to God empty handed.  Yes, some people may harden their hearts.  Some may refuse to listen.  Ultimately that is the road to disaster.   For anyone who does that cannot have life.  The fact is that where the Word of God fall and is welcomed there, and only there, in that human heart does  the seed of life grow and bear fruit.
The prophet Isaiah was talking to people who lived in the desert.  They knew how barren it was.  They experienced, in their own lives, the struggle to eke out a living.  He was talking to people for whom rain was synonymous with life.

The Word of God is alive and active, sharper than any two edged sword we are told.  The question is:  How is the Word of God alive and active in my life; in your life? 

Today’s Gospel takes the argument a bit further. Yes, the Word of God is always effective in itself but we can put obstacles in its way. We can offer resistance instead of co-operation.  Even the rain can be fruitless, useless if it falls on rocks.   Yes, God is all-powerful but we are free to accept God’s help or to reject that help. 

There is one sun in the skies which gives light to the world.  It is the same light for all.  But it gives different colours to different things:   green grass, red apples, orange jerseys, black hair, brown eyes, blue berries.  It all depends on the type of body on which the light falls.  In the same way the Word of God is always alive and active.  It can judge the desires and thoughts of your heart and mine.  But the Word of God produces different fruits in different hearts.

Jesus presents us with different examples.  There is the superficial heart – those who hear the message of God  but don’t make any effort or pay much attention to it.  The result is that they don’t understand the Word.  They really are not very interested because they are not paying much attention to anything that doesn’t touch themselves in some way. 

Then there are hearts that are hard and rocky.  Yes they hear the message, and to be fair to them, they receive it gladly, but it doesn’t sink in deeply.  They don’t last long especially when trouble comes along, they give up at once.

And then there are the seeds that fall among bushes, thorns.  These are the people that let the worries about life and the desire for riches choke the message.  They don’t bear fruit. 

Then, of course, there is the good soil – those who hear the message and make it their own business to understand it and persist in their sincere efforts to follow that Word in life.  And so, the 64,000 dollar question is:  What division am I in?  This much is sure – whether we are young or old, fit or feeble, we are in one of those divisions –
The  Premiership – the First, Second or Third.  Are we the kind of people who hear the message but quickly forget about it – get distracted?

Thank you Dean (Susan) Patterson for your very generous words. Thank you too for your warm welcome to this Cathedral Church of St. Patrick of the combined Dioceses of Tuam, Killala and Achonry. Please convey my good wishes and appreciation to Bishop Richard Henderson for his permission to occupy this historic pulpit. I realise that it links us directly to the remarkable events of 1798 and to his predecessor Bishop Joseph Stock. In a recent article in the Western People, John Cooney remarked that today I would be stepping into ‘the cathedral pulpit once adorned by the sagacious Bishop Stock.’ I do so very warily indeed!

The pulpit was not always a clerical preserve. It was originally a platform for public shows, speeches or disputations. It was only later that it referred to the raised structure from which the preacher delivered a sermon. As the following verse from 1695 reminds us however, the pulpit has rarely been the only source of dogmatic proclamation in society. I quote:

The Bar, the Pulpit and the Press nefariously combine,
To cry up an usurped power,
And stamp it right divine!

The Bar, the Pulpit and the Press have power. Each with their own autonomy, they represent the key determinants of opinion and policy in all but a few democratic societies – the Legislature, communities of faith and the media. The precise relationship between the three has varied historically. The balance of their influence and power variously shifted. When working at their best each respects the autonomy of the other and the space which the other is due in a free and flourishing society. When motivated by their highest ideals they are united by a common search for the truth and the promotion of justice.

It is in this context that I want to pay particular tribute to John Cooney, founder and director of the General Humbert Summer School. This school and others like it provide a vital forum for the dialogue between these three tributaries of influence which is essential to a vibrant and pluralist culture. Under John’s determined direction the Humbert Summer School has become one of the best known and influential events of the social and cultural calendar. I want to thank John and Chair of the school, Mr Tony McGarry for inviting me to give this Address. As John knows, I don’t always agree with him or with what I sometimes regard as his ‘colourful’ analysis of ecclesiastical events. Yet I am immensely grateful to him and to the other religious affairs correspondents for giving space to the religious view in Irish life. It is the view, after all, of the majority of people on the island.

John also had the foresight to frame this annual address around the memory of Bishop Joseph Stock. Bishop Stock was Church of Ireland Bishop of Killala from 1798 – 1810. His life was probably no more remarkable than many other Bishops of his time but for his famous ‘Narrative of what passed in Killala’. This was a diary of the dramatic events of the ‘98’ rebellion as they occurred here in Co. Mayo.

One of the most noted aspects of this Narrative is Bishop Stock’s repeated reference to the lack of sectarian violence in the towns and villages around Mayo during the 98 rebellion, in contrast to other parts of Ireland. In his own words, Mayo had ‘caught no portion of that malignant spirit of disloyalty and religious intolerance’ which had infected so many other parts of the country. The Narrative also communicates a disdain for violence, other than in the strict conduct of war.

The obligation to maintain a decency and courtesy towards each other in the midst of conflict was taken as a given between Stock and Humbert on the basis of their shared humanity. It is clear from the text that each had a respect for the inherent human dignity of the other.

And it is this which I suggest makes the Narrative of Bishop Stock a narrative of hope for our time. It draws us immediately into three issues which I would like to consider briefly this afternoon:

• The peace process in Ireland;
• The loss of Christian memory and values in Europe;
• The impact of this loss on the culture of aggression and violence in Ireland.

In light of theme of this year’s school, I will give more detailed consideration to the second of these, the loss of Christian memory and values in Europe. But first let me say a word about the Peace Process in Ireland.

The Peace Process

It is remarkable how often the history of Northern Ireland is used to argue that religion is an inevitable source of conflict in society. It is an easy argument for those who wish to see religion relegated to the private sphere.

Yet, as we all know the conflict here, especially in its later years, had relatively little to do with issues of religious dogma. In fact, I think it is increasingly recognised that the main Churches had a largely moderating influence on the levels of violence which might otherwise have emerged.

Europe was another moderating influence. The ideological vision of unity in diversity, the erosion of borders and the reconciliation of a continent marred by centuries of conflict of culture and history, this provided a new canvas for the future resolution of the ‘Northern’ problem. It was a brighter canvas, a wider and more assuaging one. While its influence was only one among many, it was a critical one. Just as people point to the rapid economic transformation of Ireland as an example of the success of the European economic project, so it is right to hold up Northern Ireland as an example of the success of the European social project.

Ireland owes a lot to the European Union. It is difficult to believe we would enjoy the political stability in the North or the economic progress in the South we do today without it. This should give us pause for thought when we reflect on Ireland’s place within the EU and our responsibility towards it.

Thanks in no small part to the EU the peace process in Northern Ireland is now rightly lauded across the world as a sign of hope that age-old conflicts can be resolved. By any standard it was and continues to be a remarkable achievement. Yet it remains a process. I believe it continues to be a robust and secure process. My confidence in it is strengthened by growing signs of maturity around formerly intractable issues such as parades.

In this regard the Orange Order deserves credit for what I believe are sincere and convincing efforts to promote dialogue and understanding. These should be acknowledged and reciprocated. Attacks on Orange Halls, such as those which took place last week around Armagh, deserve to be unequivocally condemned. They are symptomatic of a sectarian pathology which is evil and has to be continually challenged in our selves and every aspect of social, religious and political life.

Efforts to deal with the past are also important and may give deeper roots to the stability we now enjoy. The sensitivities around the commemorations of the tenth anniversary of the Omagh bombing, however, remind us just how difficult a task this will be. Let me take this opportunity to appeal directly to those who were responsible for the Omagh bombing. Before the innocent children, women and men you massacred I appeal to you to do the right thing before God. I appeal to your hearts and human dignity. Give yourselves up to justice in this world before you face judgement in the next. I also appeal to those who have information which could lead to the arrest and conviction of those who made or planted the Omagh bomb. You also have a duty before God to give that information immediately to the police. The families of those killed and the surviving victims have suffered enough. Help them to receive justice. If you have any humanity left in your heart at all, do all that you can to ease at least a little of their pain.

The pain which hovers below the surface of so much of life in Northern Ireland is a constant reminder of another important dimension of the European project – the power of memory.

Both personally and collectively, memory shapes who we are and how we act in the present. If we live apart from our memory and the influences which shape it, we detach ourselves from our deepest roots. Positive memories can encourage and sustain us. They are a source of wisdom and strength in the face of new and challenging situations. Negative memories can haunt us and hold us back. They can make us fearful and vulnerable in the face of new and challenging situations. With help and support we can hope to be healed of these memories. To suppress memory, on the other hand, is perhaps the most dangerous route of all. It leaves us rudderless with neither root nor hope. We have little wisdom to draw on, no experience or tested values to guide us, especially when challenges come.

And this brings me to my second point, the future of Christian memory and values in Europe.

Christian memory and values in Europe

In 1999 I attended the second Synod of Bishops on Europe. It had as its theme Jesus Christ Alive in His Church – the Source of Hope for Europe. One of the propositions of the Synod Fathers asked the European Institutions and the States of Europe to recognise that a proper ordering of society must be rooted in authentic, ethical and civic values, shared as widely as possible by its citizens. In the final message, the Synod Fathers called upon the Leaders of Europe to do a number of things;

• to protest against the violation of human rights of individuals, minorities and peoples;
• to pay utmost attention to everything that concerns human life from the moment of its conception to natural death and;
• to pay attention to protect the family based on marriage, for these are the foundations on which our common European home rests.
The Synod Fathers also asked European Leaders to care for migrants and to give the young people of Europe reasons to hope in the future.

In 2003, in his subsequent reflection on the Synod, Pope John Paul II acknowledged that the institutions of Europe promoted the unity of the continent and were at the service of humanity. He noted with approval the aim of the EU at that time to propose a model of integration which would be supported by the adoption of a common fundamental Charter. This objective continues today in the form of the Lisbon Treaty and the associated Charter of Fundamental Freedoms.

Pope John Paul II, while noting his respect for the secular nature of the European Institutions, went on to ask that any such Treaty would include a reference to the Religious and Christian Heritage of Europe. He also asked that three things would be recognised:

1. The right of Churches and Religious Communities to organise themselves freely in conformity with their proper convictions;
2. That the Union respect the specific identity of the different religious confessions and make provision for a structured dialogue between the European Union and those confessions;
3. That the union would have respect for the juridical status already enjoyed by Churches and Religious Institutions within the States of the Union.

Much progress has been made in these areas. Ireland, as you know, was among the first countries in Europe to initiate the proposed ‘structured dialogue’, which is now legislated for in the Lisbon Treaty. This has been a very positive and welcome development. It is only one of the many reasons why the Catholic Church, as indicated by various Papal and Synodal reflections, is generally positive towards the European project and its founding ideals.

But this is a qualified support. As the recent referendum on the Lisbon Treaty in Ireland suggests, at least some of those who were previously enthusiastic about the founding aims of the EU, both social and economic are now expressing unease. The reasons for this are complex. But one reason influencing some Christians may be what Pope John Paul II described as the ‘loss of Christian memory’ in European institutions and policy. Successive decisions which have undermined the family based on marriage, the right to life from the moment of conception to natural death, the sacredness of the Sabbath, the right of Christian institutions to maintain and promote their ethos, including schools, these and other decisions have made it more difficult for committed Christians to maintain their instinctive commitment to the European project.

This coincides with a fairly widespread culture in European affairs which relegates manifestations of one’s own religious convictions to the private and subjective sphere. It has not been unknown, for example, for individuals to have to defend their right to hold political, public or legislative office within EU institutions while professing a public commitment to their Christian faith, sometimes against very public and hostile challenge.

Ignoring this trend within the EU and its impact on people of faith has inevitable political and social consequences, not least on levels of support for the project itself. On the one hand, as Pope Benedict asked recently, ‘if the governments of the Union want to be “closer” to their citizens, how can they exclude from Europe’s identity an essential element like Christianity with which a vast majority continues to identify themselves?’. On the other hand, ‘A community that is built without respect for the authentic dignity of human beings, that forgets that each person is created in God’s image, ends up not doing any one any good.’

This is why it may be important for the EU to look again at a prevailing pragmatic attitude that compromises on essential human, moral and social values on the basis of the lowest common denominator. The experience of many Christians within the EU is that this lowest common denominator invariably coincides with the secular and relativist tradition within Europe – that which denies moral absolutes with an objective basis – rather than the religious view. In the words of Pope Benedict, ‘We end up this way spreading the view that “judging the goods” [of Europe] is the only way for moral judgement and that having a common good is synonymous with compromise. In reality, if reaching compromises is a legitimate act of balancing interests, it becomes a common evil every time it involves agreements that are harmful to man’s nature.’

Such an approach ends up with Christians as such being denied the right to intervene in public debates or at least having their contribution dismissed as an attempt to protect unjustified privileges, such as, for example the right to employ people who support the ethos of a Christian institution.

The same might be said of positions taken over stem-cell research, the status of same-sex unions, the primacy of the family based on marriage, the culture of life – the prevailing culture and social agenda within the EU, would at least appear to be driven by the secular tradition rather than by the Christian memory and heritage of the vast majority of member states.

This is in stark contrast to the prevailing political and social culture of the United States of America, a culture which prides itself on the separation of Church and State and on its diversity. Is it possible that the US has actually been more successful in balancing diversity with respect for religious freedom and conviction than the EU?

I was intrigued to discover last weekend that it was quite natural to expect the US presidential candidates to answer direct questions about their commitment to faith, their willingness to support faith based organisations, their position on moral issues and how it would affect their appointment of public officials. I look forward to the day we have the same level of openness and choice in our own elections here in Ireland and in Europe. Maybe then more people will be convinced that we are living in a democracy which is confident about diversity and respects the freedoms of all.

As it is, in Ireland, as in much of the EU, the prevailing political correctness and dominant media culture is one of relegation of the search for truth and the value of religion in society in favour of a political environment without God.

In this context, it is not surprising that we might speak of a European continent that is losing confidence in its future. From its foundation the EU is an historical, cultural and moral identity even before it is a geographic, economic or political objective. In the words of Pope Benedict ‘it is unthinkable that we can build an authentic common European house by disregarding the identities of the peoples of this continent of ours…. It is an identity built on a set of universal values in which Christianity played a role in moulding them, which gives it a role that is not only historical but also foundational vis-à-vis Europe. Such values, which constitute the continent’s soul,’ Pope Benedict continues, ‘must continue in the third millennium as a “spark” of civilisation.’

Without respect for its Christian memory and soul, I believe it is possible to anticipate continuing difficulties for the European project. These will emerge not only in economic terms but in terms of social cohesion and the continued growth of a dangerous individualism that does not care about God or about what the future might have in store.

And this brings me to my final and very brief point.

Culture of Violence and Aggression

The question of values cannot be detached from the culture of aggression and violence which is now giving rise to so much concern in our own country and further a field. We need a much more honest, respectful and constructive dialogue between the Bar, the Pulpit and the Press in Ireland and elsewhere about values in our society. Like the debate within the European Union, is it fair, is it representative of the views and convictions of the majority of people here in Ireland, that the media is so dominated by a secular view hostile to or disposed to relegate the value of religion? Is it possible to dream dreams and to imagine an approach to each other built on our shared humanism? Is it possible to agree that there are objective values for which we should have serious regard because of their implications for the good of society?

Could we agree for example, that peace is built on truth, including the stark truth that violence is ugly, demeaning and evil and therefore something never to glamorised, romanticised or trivialised?

Where is the honesty, for example, in arguing on the one hand that violence, promiscuity and lack of respect in the media has no influence on the attitude, values and behaviour of the young when billions is spent on advertising through the media precisely because of its power to influence attitudes and behaviour?

A great campaign has been launched recently which seeks to raise the awareness of the extent to which violence is being used, without question, as entertainment on TV, DVD, the internet and films. It asks that on the 2nd October, which is the UN World Day of Non-violence, Gandhi’s birthday, channels refrain from showing films containing violent scenes. This is a campaign which I wholeheartedly support. It poses important questions for the media which I hope they will not be afraid to ask.

Conclusion

The point at issue here is that we all share a responsibility to build the ‘ecology of peace’. We all have a role to play in influencing the social fabric and moral cohesion of a peaceful and what General Humbert often referred to as a ‘happy’ society in Ireland and the EU.

Violence dehumanises us all. Ten years after the Belfast Agreement it may be appropriate for Bar, Pulpit and Press to ask what price we have paid for the moral ambiguity in the peace process by way of encouraging a more general culture of aggression and violence. As it is there is danger that we will forget its evil and horror, that we will allow those with an interest in doing so to suggest it was justified or excusable. It was not. To fail to call it the evil that it was will undermine the ‘ecology’ of peace in the longer term.

Similarly, the claims and influence of secularism and relativism have gone largely unchallenged in Irish culture and media. It could be argued that they enjoy an uncritical acceptance which would never be afforded to religious faith. To a large degree this is true. This afternoon however I would like to suggest that there are signs of a small but significant change.

It may be that a growing number of people are questioning the prevailing orthodoxies of the ‘new’ Ireland, that they are reconsidering the value of faith, community and more traditional moral values. It may be that the still small voice of God is emerging with new appeal in Irish cultural and political debate, albeit it as a whisper!

That these three – Bar, Pulpit and Press – should continue to engage in this debate is essential for the ecology of peace in our own land. It is essential for success of the founding ideals of the European Union which I, with so may other Christians, wholeheartedly support.

Thank you.