ARMAGH DIOCESAN PILGRIMAGE TO KNOCK
HOMILY GIVEN BY
CARDINAL SEÁN BRADY
SUNDAY 29 MAY 2005

We have come on pilgrimage to Mary’s shrine here in Knock on the Feast of Corpus Christi in the Year of the Eucharist. Every pilgrimage is a journey to a sacred place for a religious reason. So perhaps we could begin by recalling the reason we have made this journey. We have come to honour Mary, the Mother of Jesus, on this, the feast of the Body and Blood of her Son, Jesus Christ. Perhaps we have come to give thanks for a favour received or to ask a favour in the future – a recovery from illness, the passing of an examination, the revival of someone’s faith. I have come to ask Mary to strengthen my faith in the Eucharist so that I may celebrate it more devoutly and live out the implications of the Mass in my own life.
We have gathered in this Basilica to celebrate Mass. We remember that every Mass is a re-enactment of what Jesus did on Calvary. We ask that we may understand better that Mary is our mother, given to us by Jesus in his last will and testimony.

When he said to St John: “Woman, this is your son. At that moment he was suffering and dying on the cross for love of us. And St. John tells us that there stood by the cross of Jesus, Mary his mother, his mother’s sister, Mary of Clopas and Mary of Magdala”.

After the dark night of betrayal and abandonment, there followed the bitter morning of mockery and scourging. He had been stripped of his garments and nailed to the cross. His mother and his aunt, a close friend Mary Magdala, and the beloved disciple, John, stood there with him, courageously and faithfully to the end. And there, at that moment, a new family is being created as the human family are represented by his mother and his aunt and his faith family are represented by Mary of Magdala and John, are brought together around the cross.

Then, in the midst of this loving group there is the last final, caring, gesture of the dying son for his widowed mother and an act of trust in his beloved disciple as he gives them to each other. There they stand, close to the heart of the crucified One – a heart that soon will be pierced with the soldier’s lance. There they stood at the cross, united in deep love for the Son of God made flesh and through their suffering and grieving for him they are caught up in the mysterious love between the heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ.

Here at Knock we hope to be caught up in that same love. We want, with the help of Mary his mother, to become one with Jesus. For in Calvary his hour had come, at Cana when he worked his first miracle his hour had not yet come. Now it had come and we are told that from that hour, Jesus the beloved disciple, took Mary into his home. There is an invitation here for all of us to aspire to be ourselves, beloved disciples. To take Mary into our hearts and into our homes and into our lives.

You may know that our new Pope, Benedict XVI has decided to include the scallop shell in his Coat of Arms. The shell is the emblem of the pilgrim. He is reminding himself and all of us, I suppose, that we have not here an everlasting kingdom but we seek the one that is to come.

Our dearly beloved, deceased, Pope John Paul II, went to another Marian shrine on his last pilgrimage. He went to the Shrine of Mary in Lourdes to whom he had dedicated his whole life. He did so in the sure hope that she would lead him safely to her Son, Jesus. On that occasion he said, “I wish, first of all, to greet the sick, who come in ever greater numbers to this shrine, and to greet those who accompany them, their care-givers and their families. I am here with you – dear brothers and sisters”, Pope John Paul said, “as a pilgrim to Our Lady. I may my own, your prayer and your hope”.

What a marvellous example he has set to all us in an age which hides away those too often who are suffering in any way. Here in Knock the sick have pride of place. There are many, many people who surround them with love and care. Right to the end, Pope John Paul II, despite his illness, was faithful to his mission. Just imagine that on a Wednesday before he died, he rose from his sick bed to come to the window of St. Peter’s Square to bless pilgrims. His courage in facing sickness and death inspires us all. Pope John Paul died in the middle of the Year of the Eucharist, within an hour after the holy Mass had been celebrated in his apartment. I think it is a lesson. He knew well that many followers of Christ are turning their back on the Eucharist, forgetting the words of Jesus. “Unless we eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, we shall not have life in us” Mary, the mother of all the disciples, must also be concerned about this situation.

On Thursday last I was in London along with bishops from all over the world. We went to see Gordon Browne the Chancellor of Exchequer. We wanted to encourage him in his efforts to make poverty history. In order words, to put an end, once and for all, to the scandalous situation where 24,000 people die every day of hunger, that is, 1,000 people every hour. It is estimated that the vast majority of these are children with one child dying every four seconds. Surely that is a scandal.

Next July the leaders of the eight major industrialised countries in the world will meet in Gleneagles in Scotland. They will have a historic opportunity to do something to give to the poor of the world their basic rights. That is, their basic rights to food, clean water, education and healthcare. I ask you all to pray fervently that the leaders of the world – not only of the eight most powerful countries, but also of the United Nations and European Union – will play their part. At present it appears that the United States and Japan need a bit of persuading. In Europe – Germany and Italy seem a bit reluctant but Tony Blair appears to have persuaded the Italian on Friday last. Earlier this week the European Union took a decision to dramatically increase their aid. That is all good news. Let’s hope and pray that they keep their promises.

Certainly Gordon Browne seemed to me to be both sincere and determined to do his best. With Britain about to become President of the EU and of the G8 – they seem well placed to make a very great difference.

Of course Jesus was talking, not about the life of the body, but about the life of the Spirit when he said, “If you do not eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you will not have life in you”. Yes, the life of our bodies is important, very important. I suppose the fact that the five schoolgirls, so tragically killed in Navan last week were so young and had apparently a long life before them – all of that made the tragedy so much more sorrowful and heartbreaking. But we all know that life on this earth will come to an end at some stage or other and then we hope for eternal life – the life of the spirit. So, when Jesus said he was going to give his flesh to the world, the Jews were shocked and scandalised. How can this man give us his flesh to eat, they asked. Have you noticed that Jesus didn’t answer that question? Of course he found a way to deliver on his promise as he always does. The problem is, will we have enough faith to take Him at His word?

That’s the more important question. And what will happen if we ignore this fantastic promise? Well, Jesus made it quite clear in a very solemn way when he said, “I tell you most solemnly, if you do not eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you will not have life in you”.

Now, unfortunately, we live in an age when more and more catholics, despite the fact of their baptism and their First Communion, are turning their back on the Mass and therefore they are not eating the flesh and blood of the Son of Man. They don’t seem too worried about the warning which Jesus gave about those who refuse to eat his flesh and not having life. That is a sad state of affairs.

You know if people went on hunger strike, many others would be very concerned. A lot of strenuous efforts would be made to entice people to come off their hunger strike but here we have a situation where are starving themselves of the Eucharist.

The late Pope John Paul II was one man who was very concerned about the situation. That is why he declared this to be the Year of the Eucharist – a year in which he asked us to devote our attention to three things:

1. A renewal of the Sunday Mass,
2. Adoration of the real presence of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament;
3. To the celebration of the Feast of Corpus Christi

Jesus promised to give His flesh and blood to be our food and drink. At the Last Supper he kept his promise. He took bread and wine and changed them into his own body and blood and then he said, “Do this in memory of me”.

You may ask why was it important for Jesus that this should be done in memory of Him? He left us the Eucharist to remind us of how he loved us. He loved each one of us to the point of laying down his life for us. He also prepared his disciples for what he was going to do by getting up from the table and washing their feet. Sure, he shocked them but went on to explain that he had washed their feet precisely to give them an example so that they would copy what he had done to them. St John put it well when he said, “Jesus, having loved his own, loved them to the end”.

For the last almost fifty years I have been eating the body and blood of Christ almost daily. I often ask myself why am I not more like Jesus Christ? Only this week three people conveyed to me their criticism of what I said or did or failed to do. I suppose what in effect they are saying is that I should have more of the courage and more of the love which Jesus had for all of us. And so, I have come to the conclusion that it is not enough just to celebrate Mass and eat the flesh and drink the blood of the Son of Man. I must prepare myself by understanding the meaning of what he did. And secondly, I must go out from Mass and imitate the love of Jesus in my own life – no matter what the cost.

Jesus poured the water into the basic and wiped their feet with the towel. He did all of this so as to remove the dirt and the sand from around their ankles and between their toes. It was a rather personal and embarrassing sort of task. So I wonder, what is the equivalent which we can do for our brothers and sisters today, especially for those sisters and brothers who have lost their appetite for going to Mass?
Well at Mass we get the opportunity to listen carefully to what Jesus says in the Gospel and this Year of the Eucharist gives an opportunity for us to help those who find it hard to go to Mass. When we come to Mass as a parish family, there may be some Catholics who are not here with us. Now there could be different reasons for this. Maybe some were never given the habit of going to Mass by their parents.

Others may have dropped away when they were young, others may feel hurt by something said or done to them in Church. Others may feel too tired or too busy to find the time. Whatever the reason, I would like them to think again. To think of what they are missing.

We should not think of going to Mass as a duty or an obligation. We should think of it as a response of love to love – of our love to the greatest love the world has ever seen. But, whatever their reasons for staying away, every Catholic in this Parish is part of our parish family. Every Catholic in your area is a member of your parish family. For those Catholics who do not join us at Mass, are still our brothers and sisters. They are family and, like members of any family; we are all responsible for each other. They may be a member of our own family, our children, our parents, brother, or sister. It may be your next door neighbour, someone at work or someone you meet at the pub. It may be a friend at school or your boyfriend or girlfriend. But we are all responsible for each other – we are all to bear each other’s burdens.

So, I ask each one of you to focus on at least one person with all of your faith and love and care. First of all pray for that person every day. Pray that this person may be filled with the living waters of God’s love. If the opportunity arises, be ready to talk about your own faith. Gently and sensitively talk through the reasons why they are not more involved in the life of the Church and eventually invite them to come to Mass with you. I think that might be the equivalent of washing their feet. I am sure Mary, the Mother of Jesus, is concerned about this also. What mother or father would not be worried or concerned if her child was refusing to eat or drink. Let me end with a story.

About 1830 – just after Catholic Emancipation, a bunch of women from Armagh were working in the cotton industry in New Hampshire, United States. Despite their secure employment, all was not well. They were spiritually undernourished – their faith was in danger of withering as a result because they were not able to get to Mass every Sunday. They were not prepared to set at risk their immortal and everlasting life, not even for the sake of a better standard of living in this life. So they announced they were giving it all up and going home. But these ladies were not just good Catholics, they were good workers and their employers did not want to lose them. And so, a Church and priest were provided and they are preparing to celebrate the 175th anniversary of the celebration of the first Mass on the last Sunday of September this year. I don’t know where they said Keady on your cart came from, but I do know that there were Keady people who set an example to all of us which is just as relevant today as it was then.

So, what can we do? We can put our weight behind the campaign to make poverty history. We can show that our attendance at Sunday Mass makes a difference in the way we live our lives. We could decide to spend some time in adoration of the Blessed Sacrament.

Every mother or father worries if their child is not eating properly. They know that if they do not it will lead to other problems. I am sure Mary, our Mother in Heaven, is no different. Today the Archdiocese is on pilgrimage here at Knock where we will pray earnestly for a greater commitment to the Sunday Mass in this the Year of the Eucharist.
AMEN

ARCHBISHOP SEÁN BRADY
British Embassy and Fondazione Corriere della Sera,
Milan, 23rd May, 2005,

Title: Religious identity, national identity: citizens or believers?

Your Excellencies, Ladies and Gentlemen,

In his poem, The Republic of Conscience, the Irish Poet Laureate Seamus Heaney reflects on his status as a ‘dual citizen’ of a place where, in his words, ‘no ambassador would ever be relieved.’ As we gather in this beautiful city of Milan, and as I remember with deep gratitude my many happy years as a student and later rector of the Irish College in Rome, I would like to echo Heaney’s sentiment. To be in Italy is always a joy, a pleasure from which no guest and no ambassador would ever wish to be relieved. I would also like to take this opportunity to thank Sir Ivor, his staff at the British Embassy in Rome, and the members of Fondazione Corriere della Sera, for affording me the opportunity to return to this magnificent country, which with great affection, I have come to know as my second home.

Heaney’s poem also touches on the theme which I have been asked to address: Religious identity, national identity: citizens or believers? The title, which I have been given, hints at a ‘dual citizenship’. It suggests a double claim on our conscience and on our identity. It alludes, on the one hand, to the legitimate claims of the state to which we belong, and for which we have a responsibility with others. And on the other, to the legitimate claims of divine revelation, which, if we are faithful to the human search for truth, once discovered, require the full assent of our conscience.

The question also hints at the possibility of conflict between these two critical sources of our identity. What do we do when our religious conscience conflicts with the claims of our nation, or vice versa? To which do we owe our principal allegiance and to what degree? It was precisely this issue which absorbed the attention of the Emperor Constantine Augustus in the Edict of Milan in 313 AD. After Constantine had originally persecuted Christians for refusing to offer their allegiance to the gods of the State, his victory in battle at the Milvian Bridge, under the sign of the cross, changed everything. It was sufficient to bring him to an understanding of the necessary interdependence of peace, respect for the freedom of religion and the demands of the common good, in a society of diverse beliefs. As he explains:

When I, Constantine Augustus, as well as I, Licinius Augustus, fortunately met near Mediolanurm (Milan), and were considering everything that pertained to the public welfare and security, we thought, among other things which we saw would be for the good of many, those regulations pertaining to the reverence of the Divinity ought certainly to be made first, so that we might grant to the Christians and others full authority to observe that religion which each preferred.

Critically, in the Milan of diverse identities in the 4th century, Constantine came to realize something, which holds true to this very day. That the ‘good of many’, what we might call today the ‘common good’, in a diverse, or what we might call today, a ‘pluralist’ society, is best secured when the state, through ‘regulations pertaining to the reverence of the Divinity’, protects the principle of freedom of religion. As Pope John Paul II repeated on several occasions, no doubt mindful of his experience of two totalitarian regimes, “Religious freedom, is an essential requirement of the dignity of every person. It is a cornerstone of the structure of human rights, and for this reason an irreplaceable factor in the good of individuals and of the whole of society.”

It is a lack of acknowledgement of this intimate connection between freedom of religion and the very structure of human rights, which has left many in Europe today feeling uneasy. They are uneasy about the disproportionate influence of what is often presented as secular ‘neutrality’. Yet there is no such thing as a neutral philosophy of life, death and the human person. While there may be degrees of commonality between religious and non-religious views of life, it is difficult to see how secularism can claim this commonality for itself, not least when the philosophical commonality of Europe manifestly remains one of belief in God. As the Edict of Milan reminds us, authentic pluralism requires active tolerance of religious expression and the protection of religious freedom within the limits of morality and the common good.

This means that the state has a profound obligation to respect and protect the rights of the believer. The believer in turn, where the authority of the State is exercised within the limits of morality and according to a juridical order enjoying legal status, has a duty in conscience to obey. However, in the words of the Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church, ‘citizens are not obliged in conscience to follow the prescriptions of civil authorities if their precepts are contrary to the demands of the moral order, to the fundamental rights of persons or to the teachings of the Gospel.’ (#399)

In other words, when it comes to a clear choice between being a citizen and being a believer, the civil authority ‘must enact just laws, laws that correspond to the dignity of the human person and to what is required by right reason.’ (#398) Where this is not the case, ‘it is a grave duty of conscience [for the believer] not to cooperate, not even formally, in practices which, although permitted by civil legislation, are contrary to the Law of God.’ (#399)

In the end, therefore, whatever their level of involvement in the authority of the State, citizens who are believers, as well as those who are not, are obliged to the final authority of conscience, as determined by the objective moral law. In this sense, the believer will always have recourse to a final authority beyond his or her earthly citizenship. As St. Paul says, ‘for here we have no lasting city, rather we seek the one to come.’ Of course this conviction is not unique to Christians.

This then leads us to another dimension of the relationship between national and religious identity. That is the complex relationship between religious, cultural, historical, political identity as played out in situations of violent conflict.

Indeed, a quick glance at the global scene suggests that this is the one key fault lines in many of the violent conflicts in our world at this time. One only has to consider the complex interaction between religion, history, politics and power at work in the conflict in the Middle East, or in the neighbouring area here of the Balkans, or that which underlies the current tensions between Islam and the West on the world stage, to realise how potent this mix between political and religious identity can be.

This is not to suggest, however, that religion of itself is an inevitable source of conflict in our world. Indeed, quite the opposite. More people have been killed, more rights have been and continue to be suppressed in the name of non-religious ideology than in those conflicts which have a religious dimension.

And despite the common assumption that the conflict in Northern Ireland is primarily about religious identity, I am happy to be able to explain to you that it is not. It has a religious dimension, though less and less so as time goes by. It is also generally agreed that the influence of the main Churches over recent years has been to restrain conflict and to play a critical part in promoting reconciliation, mutual understanding, forgiveness and peace. Indeed, a quick survey of the joint statements of the four main Churches in Northern Ireland in the 1970’s and 80’s would suggest that they contain the very concepts and vocabulary which became the building blocks of the Good Friday or Belfast Agreement, reached between our politicians in 1998.

Shortly after the signing of that Good Friday Agreement, Senator George Mitchell, who had chaired the negotiations, wrote the following: ‘I recall on my first day in Northern Ireland, nearly four years ago, I saw for the first time the huge wall that physically separated the communities of Belfast. Thirty feet high, topped in places with barbed wire, it is an ugly reminder of the intensity and duration of the conflict.

Ironically it is called the ‘Peace Line’. On that first morning I met with Catholics on their side of the wall and in the afternoon with the Protestants on their side. The messages had not been co-ordinated, but they were the same. They said that where men and women have no opportunity or hope, they are more likely to take the path to violence. As I sat and listened to them I thought I could just as easily be in Chicago or Calcutta. Despair is the fuel for instability and conflict everywhere…’.

Senator Mitchell’s graphic description of two communities, divided by 30 foot walls, caught in a spiral of economic despair, is a powerful symbol of the ability of political and religious identity to become a potent source of mutual fear and threat between ordinary, good hearted people, with essentially the same human needs and aspirations.

In this context, Churches and people of faith can either become chaplains to the collective despair or prophets of new possibilities and opportunity. As an Inter-Church group, which meets regularly to discuss issues of faith and politics in Northern Ireland has said, and I believe you could substitute the word Church here with the place of worship of any faith community which is working in a situation of conflict:

Churches are part of communities; they cannot be other… They are places where the ‘specialness’ and stories of communities and nations can be celebrated. Much of this is necessary and good, but there is another side. ‘Specialness’ can lead to exclusivity and a sense of superiority. Churches [and other places of worship] can be places where we are told – implicitly and explicitly – who does not belong to our community; by the contents of sermons, and by the symbols displayed or not displayed, by those included or not in the prayers of intercession.

The key words here are ‘exclusivity and a sense of superiority’. Both can be generated or sustained by a number of powerful sources, including religion, politics, history, wealth or physical power. From the time of Cain and Abel to the present, these basic dynamics of conflict based on superiority and the desire to dominate have always been the same.

In the Genesis story, Cain and Abel are first presented as equals. They are two brothers, born of the same parents; they engage in two equally respectable occupations, the complementary vocations of a keeper of sheep and a tiller of the ground; they offer two equally appropriate sacrifices to God, an animal offering and a fruit offering. Into this God-given opportunity for mutual co-operation and success, comes the envy of Cain when his brother’s gift is accepted and his is not. Cain, though the older, the richer and the more highly regarded by dint of birth and profession, cannot cope with God’s inversion of his natural superiority. Envy leads to anger, which in turn leads to exclusion, which in turn leads to murder among brothers.

An interesting dimension to the story is Cain’s reply to God. After the murder, when God asks him ‘Where is your brother Abel?’, Cain tells a blatant lie, indicating further moral disintegration. He says ‘I do not know’, and then goes on to ask a critical question, ‘Am I my brother’s keeper?’. The suggestion here is that the sense of responsibility for the other has collapsed into a preoccupation with self. Exclusion has now become self absorption and an inability to take responsibility with or for the other. The sense of interdependence has been lost. This is why structures which rebuild a sense of interdependence, at a local or international level, are one of the surest bulwarks against further conflict. We see this at work, for example, in the concept of the European Union, following the tragedy of the Second World War.

Breaking the cycle of exclusion and rebuilding the sense of mutual responsibility for each other’s success is a critical dimension to building peace. A critical moment in the search for peace in Northern Ireland, for example, was the realisation by all the armed protagonists that no military solution was possible, and by the two communities themselves, that there was no future possible which would exclude the culture, identity and aspirations of the other. Our future was inextricably linked to our willingness to take responsibility for the other as well as for ourselves. It involved recognising that the only future which was available was one that was shared.

To arrive at this point however involved creating porous boundaries of encounter and dialogue across the social, religious, cultural and psychological barriers between the two communities. It is what the Croatian theologian, Miroslav Volf has described as making the move from exclusion to embrace. As he explains;
In an embrace I open my arms to create space in myself for the other. Open arms are a sign that I do not want to be by myself only, an invitation for the other to come in and feel at home with me. In a mutual embrace none remains the same because each enriches the other, yet both remain themselves.

I am happy to say that the Churches were often at the forefront of this activity in Northern Ireland. Many individual ministers and believers sought to create safe spaces where such dialogue and encounter could take place, often at great risk to themselves. The real heroes, however, were those many extraordinary people who, in spite of suffering the most terrible atrocities and loss, issued heroic words of forgiveness to those who had hurt them so badly. It was here that I encountered the real dividing line between the citizen and the religious believer.

The state cannot oblige the citizen to forgive, or to engage with one’s enemy yet both engagement and forgiveness are necessary if the cycle of violence and revenge is to be broken. By doing both, the believer unleashes whole new horizons of hope and possibility to communities, which are searching for the way of peace.

But this requires a change of attitude to what can often become our exclusive and excluding religious, political or cultural identities. As one commentator has said, we are not just citizens of one country, members of one religion, members of one family, and members of one race and gender. We are citizens of the whole world, one with all who believe, brothers and sisters with all who are sincere, and part of the one family of humanity.

Jesus said as much: “Who is my mother? Who are my brothers and sisters? Those who hear and keep the word of God are mother, brother and sister to me!”. In saying this, Jesus redefined both our citizenship and our loyalties. Real family, real country, real religion, and real identity are not based upon blood relationship, skin colour, gender, church affiliation, or shared geography. What makes real family, country, religion, or identity is a shared spirit, the Holy Spirit of love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, perseverance, faith, fidelity, gentleness and purity. These transcend all other boundaries of country, religion, family, race and gender. They are what ultimately ask for our loyalty.

This in turn makes great demands on the believing politician. To have this broader horizon of identity and allegiance, arising from Christian faith, requires politicians who:

Are involved in politics primarily out of a commitment to the service of others, who seek the genuine good of the community rather than personal advantage;
Who pay particular attention to situations of poverty and suffering;
Who respect the autonomy of earthly realities, who knows that these have their own laws and values, which must be respected and properly regulated;

Who do their utmost to promote dialogue and peace in the furtherance of solidarity and do not use religion for political ends.

This last point is of particular importance. The Catholic Church believes in the mutual autonomy of Church and State in the democratic order. This doesn’t exclude the possibility that a particular religious community might be given special recognition. That recognition must in no way create discrimination within the civil or social order against other religious groups. In Northern Ireland one of the contributing factors to the conflict was the presence of discrimination on specifically religious grounds.

Happily, in both parts of the island, significant improvements have been made in this regard. In the north, comprehensive legislation and the support of both Governments for the power sharing arrangements enshrined in the Good Friday Agreement, mean that the prospect of policies of inequality or dominance are now unlikely. Yet it is true to say that following the recent Westminster elections, many Catholics now anxiously await signs that both their religious convictions and their political aspirations, in as much as these may differ from that of the unionist tradition, will be treated with respect and parity of esteem.

This includes the need to be reassured about the willingness of all parties to share power. Anything less would be extremely problematic and would ignore the fact that Northern Ireland, unlike other parts of the United Kingdom, continues to be a contested space. As such it requires unique structures which acknowledge both the identity and the aspirations of the two largest sections of the community and the interdependence of our shared future.

For my part I look forward to the prospect of engaging with Ministers from all parties in the exercise of the civic, social and educational responsibilities of the Catholic Church in a modern, pluralist democracy. Such engagement would be an important signal to the whole community that the normal standards of decency, respect and tolerance associated with a modern democracy have become the new backdrop to a more mature and confident Northern Ireland. Such engagement on matters of mutual responsibility in the civic domain does not compromise the sincerely held religious convictions of anyone. Indeed, there are many aspects of public policy and social concern, including the defence of religious liberty and certain fundamental moral values about which we could all agree.

I am optimistic that progress on all of these matters will be made and that in coming months, significant, at one time unthinkable developments, will emerge which have the potential to unlock the last doors to a stable peace and the sharing of power at a local level in Northern Ireland. At the end of the day, Northern Ireland is a story of immense progress which should be a source of hope to other places in the world.

In conclusion then, let me end where I began, by quoting another poem of my fellow countryman, Seamus Heaney. In concluding with this particular poem, I wish to pay tribute to those Christian believers who, in my country, did much more than mere citizenship can ever demand. They issued words of heroic forgiveness and embrace. It is only this willingness to go beyond what national or cultural or religions identity demands, which can bring whole societies closer to what Heaney describes so eloquently, as the far side of revenge.

History says, Don’t hope
On this side of the grave,
But then, once in a lifetime
The longed-for tidal wave
Of justice can rise up,
And hope and history rhyme.
So hope for a great sea-change
On the far side of revenge.
Believe that farther shore
Is reachable from here.

Thank you.

BLESSING OF DAVOG HOUSE, LOUGH DERG
HOMILY GIVEN BY
ARCHBISHOP SEÁN BRADY
SUNDAY 22 MAY 2005

Your Excellency, my brother bishops, Mons Mohan, Prior, Brothers and Sisters in Jesus Christ, we gather in this holy place of pilgrimage, on the Feast of the Most Blessed Trinity. We come together in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

I suppose it is not very original to say that life is a pilgrimage, a journey from birth to death, a voyage of discovery so to speak. At the same time it is a truth that we are inclined to neglect and to push to the back of our mind. What is even more neglected, in my opinion, are questions such as these:

What is there before birth?
Where do I come from?
Why am I here at all?
Where am I going?
Where am I meant to go after death?
What should I be doing now to ensure that I get to my final destination?

And yet, I am sure that these are the sort of questions that are obvious to lots of people. They must occur to everyone, at some stage or other. Perhaps it is precisely because today we run the risk of “losing our Christian memory and of squandering an inheritance entrusted to us by history”, that Pope Benedict XVI decided to include, in his Coat of Arms, the scallop shell. For traditionally the shell is the symbol of the pilgrim.

For example, every pilgrim who goes to Compostela, Spain’s most famous place of pilgrimage in honour of St. James, receives a present of a shell. I am also told, that once upon a time the pilgrim received only as much food as the shell could hold. So today, as we stand on Ireland’s most ancient place of pilgrimage, for the happy event of blessing a most welcome addition to the already extensive and well-appointed facilities, on which we congratulate Bishop Duffy and the diocese of Clogher, I think it is appropriate that we should reflect a little bit on this notion of pilgrimage.

A Pilgrimage is a journey to a sacred place, places such as
The Holy Land
The shrines of Our Lady such as Lourdes, Fatima and Knock;
The tombs of the apostles, Peter and Paul in Rome;

Places associated with our national apostle Patrick, such as Lough Derg and Croagh Patrick.
Pilgrimage is a feature of religions right across the borders of time and culture. Christianity, alone of the three great Monotheistic religions, does not impose pilgrimage as a religious duty. Nevertheless Christians have been going on pilgrimage since the earliest times.

A Pilgrimage is a journey to a sacred place for some religious purpose. The journey reminds us of the journey of life. We are a pilgrim people – away from home – Heaven is our real home. We have not here a lasting kingdom; we seek one that is to come. In ancient Syria there were monks who took as their rule, walking from dawn to sunset to tell people that we are all on a journey to Heaven. We hold that our earthly pilgrimage is driven and directed by the human capacity and desire for a life of communion with God.

The words of Augustine sum it all up when he said, “You have made us for yourself O Lord and our hearts are restless until they rest in thee”.

But pilgrimage also means another type of journey – the journey inwards. The journey towards knowing one’s self. It is a journey, which all believers must undertake. We talk about arriving at the Pearly Gates and being met by St. Peter. Of being introduced to a wonderful banquet where we will behold the face of God, and feast on its delights and have all our desires fulfilled in a joy that knows no ending, that is total gladness and perfect bliss. But that is the final destination.

What about the stations along the route? The first station is that of knowing self. We believe that each one of us is made in the image and likeness of God. So, the first pilgrimage we are called to make is a journey involved in really knowing ourselves. We are meant to accept and cherish our deepest self as an image of God – the first image of God we have. We must know and love ourselves as pilgrims in order to sustain the journey and grow to maturity along the way.

The pilgrimage of life is a life-long process. There is no such thing as standing still. It is a process of discovery, of uncovering the image of God that each one of us is in the depth of our being. It is not just a matter of uncovering something already there – but also of developing and embodying that image of God in every aspect of our life and world. It is a pilgrimage and task of never-ending conversion. Always we are being changed into the reality, which we reflect.

The second station is to notice that we do not journey alone. We move within the community of faith, a cloud of witnesses who have gone before us and the struggling pilgrims at our side. There are those who have gone before us. They have mapped out the journey for us by the example of their lives. Through their example and their legacy, we have some idea of where we come from, where we are going and how to get there.

The only way by which we will know whether we are making progress on this pilgrimage is if we show compassion towards the other pilgrims at our side. We can never fully know where they are on their journey, what they are going through, what may be holding them back from progress. The real journey takes place in the depth of the soul – it cannot be seen.

The third station tells us that yes, we are travelling through this world but we are not unaware of this world – we are not neglectful of this world for our spiritual journey involves a commitment to the improvement of creation. All Christians must help to make present the Kingdom of God and its justice in all those areas and situations in which they find themselves – each one according to his or her unique journey and call.

Finally, the spiritual pilgrimage is only possible in relation to the final destination, which is the mystery of God, Father, Son and Spirit. The pilgrim is from beginning to end accompanied by a good and gracious God. God takes the first initiative, supports our every step along the way, and delivers the final fulfilment in the form of face-to-face communion. It is up to us to believe in Word who calls us, to hope in the promise that keeps us going and to surrender in love to the One who will carry the journey through to completion.
We stand on holy ground – ground made holy by the footsteps of millions of pilgrims over a millennium of years. Pilgrims who were disciples of Christ and who came here to fast and to pray, to stay awake and deprive themselves of sleep, to chastise their bodies and bring them into subjection lest they become castaways. They came inspired by the memory of the fast of Jesus in the desert and by the six years of Patrick on Slemish. They came that they might make progress in the voyage of discovery of the knowledge of themselves, made in the image of God. They came to be apart – clear their heads and sort out their priorities. They came that they might grow in maturity of their relationship with their fellow human beings. They came that they might make progress on the journey of appreciating the beauty and goodness of all of creation. They came here on their pilgrimage towards their final destiny – union with God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Or perhaps they came for more ordinary motives:

To pray for the health of a sick child or for their own health;
To give thanks for the birth of a child or the cure of a loved one;
To express their gratitude that someone had regained their faith and come back to the practice of their religion.

Perhaps they came in moments of confusion or despair to rediscover hope.

It is one of the miracles of the mass media of communications that they often filter to the general public the insights found in the human science – for example, the science of psychology. The result is that more and more people nowadays see human life as a journey of development, a voyage of discovery, a growth towards maturity and pilgrimage towards wholeness and fulfilment. To be human is be a traveller, a wayfarer, a pilgrim.

Of course the believer has known this all along since he holds that the pilgrimage in question is driven by the capacity which every human being has for the life of friendship with God. The believer holds that on the journey of life we are, at all stages, accompanied by a loving God. Hence the importance of places like Lough Derg where people can draw apart and be still and silent for a while and come to recognise the spirit of the Lord and his gracefilled presence that accompany every stage of life.

So, my hope is that Lough Derg will continue to be a place where people are set free – set free of fear; especially of the fear of the future which is often seen nowadays as bleak and uncertain, and from the fear of loneliness for example. Set free for works of charity and solidarity and affection.

My hope is that many young people will come here and enjoy the peace and security, which only a place of prayer and penance like this can offer. Its Patron, Patrick came to Ireland as a boy of sixteen years, rather lukewarm in his faith and indifferent in his practice of the faith. But thrown on his own on the slopes of Slemish, he learned to put his trust in God. In the process he came to know a loving Father a compassionate Saviour and a consoling Advocate. May that be the experience of everyone – young and old – who come to Lough Derg. The spirituality of Patrick has much to offer us as we come to terms with the fact that the only future in this part of Ireland is going to be a shared future. My hope is that, young and old, Protestant and Catholic, will come to share their hopes and futures in the safe space of this lovely island and learn from the example of Patrick who returned to the help of the Irish despite their earlier appalling treatment of him.

So today we thank God for Lough Derg and for place like it – places where people go apart and savour all that God has prepared for those who love him. A place where we jog our Christian memory and take steps to ensure that the inheritance entrusted to us by history will not be squandered.

We gather in the context of the Year of the Eucharist – a year dedicated by Pope John Paul II to renewal of our devotion to three things:

1. The Sunday Mass,
2. Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, and
3. The Celebration of the Feast of Corpus Christi.

The pilgrimage from the home – the domestic church – to the parish church, which the family makes each week to worship God in the celebration of the Holy Mass, is probably the most important pilgrimage of all. It has immense importance for the development of our relationship to oneself, to others, to the world and the mystery of God.

The celebration of the Blessed Eucharist has always had a central position in the ceremonies on Lough Derg. Today we thank God for the priests who have provided that service – first there were the Augustinians, later the Franciscans and since 1790, the priests of the diocese of Clogher. The three-day order of exercises still observed is based on a scheme drawn up in 1613.

Today we thank and congratulate the Bishop, the Prior and the priests of Clogher – not alone for the high quality of liturgy and preaching which are synonymous with Lough Derg and made available for pilgrims from all over the world – but we congratulate them also on the vision and the courage revealed in the development of Lough Derg over the last twenty-five (25) years. The modern Lough Derg is a Sign of Great Hope because it is a sign of Jesus Christ alive in His Church and a sign of hope for all.
AMEN

MARINO INSTITUTE OF EDUCATION DUBLIN, BOOK LAUNCH
ADDRESS GIVEN BY
ARCHBISHOP SEÁN BRADY
THURSDAY 19 MAY 2005

I am very pleased and honoured to have been invited to this book launch this evening. It takes place within the centenary celebrations of the Marino Institute of Education. St. Mary’s College, Marino was opened in 1905; one hundred and three years after Edmund Rice started his first school in Waterford. St. Mary’s, Marino, opened as a purpose built Training College and Generalate. Since then Marino has, at all times, been a centre of education excellence. Its contribution to Catholic education over these past one hundred years has been immense. But, I suppose it is fair to say that throughout much of this period there has been relatively little reflection on the charism and achievement of Blessed Edmund Ignatius Rice.

However, over the past decade, a huge revaluation and rediscovery, in fact, has taken place of the “jewel that lies at the heart of the Edmund Rice story”, to quote one of the books being launched this evening.

This reassessment has focused on educational achievements, of course, but also on the man’s own personal pilgrimage from being a hugely successful businessman to a reflective, caring, deeply spiritual teacher. That journey involved building a bridge between the rich merchants of Waterford and the street children of that city. Today more bridges of that sort need to be built all over Ireland.

Those who love, remember. A Centenary Committee is, by definition, a group who remember and they celebrate the good things of the past – not in boastful self-congratulation but in a spirit of humble recognition and thankful acknowledgement of the truth.

I congratulate the Centenary Committee on providing this opportunity of paying tribute to the Brothers for their great zeal and generous commitment to the genuine well being of Irish young people.

Today that same generosity and vision are, I am happy to say, alive and well. They enable this vital ministry to continue. Today it continues through the ministry of lay women and men, whom the Brothers have educated, formed and/or encouraged. Marino has given – through its Teacher Training College – a huge number of very competent and dedicated professionals to the Catholic education sector Marino has also been to the forefront in educational research. It has funded and researched a wide range of creative educational initiatives. Through the work of An Tobar for example, it has enhanced many Religious Education Departments.

One of its most recent initiatives has been the Catholic School Project, which is working across the secondary sector throughout Ireland. This Project seeks to engage whole staff communities in the mission of providing a quality Catholic educational environment for our young people. It is an original and exciting initiative, which has largely been made possible through the commitment of the Christian Brothers.

I am happy to say that the Catholic School Project has been, over the past couple of years, involved in many of the schools in the Archdiocese of Armagh. Just last week I was in one of those schools where there was an end of year Mass attended by some 170 pupils with quite a number of parents present. The atmosphere was reverent, prayerful and respectful. I like to think that the involvement of the Catholic School Project in that school was, in some way, in part, responsible for creating that atmosphere.

Two books are being launched. The first is Strategies for Building Faith Communities in Schools, edited by Dr Tony Hanna. It is a series of responses from professionals engaged, at different levels, within the Catholic educational enterprise. Dr Hanna himself holds a Doctorate in Sacred Theology from the Pontifical University Maynooth and has been deeply involved in the Catholic School Project over the last number of years.

There is a wide range of contributors. They include RE teachers, Chaplains, Principals, Bishops, Theologians, Trustees, Diocesan Advisers and others. They all have one thing in common – a deep concern for the future of the Catholic school. One of them speaks of the urgent need for the Catholic schools “to bring the light of Christ to bear on the whole of life”. It is a quote from the late Pope John Paul II’s document on the Church in Europe, which is a long meditation on hope. That document emerged from the Synod on Europe, which it was my privilege to attend some years ago.

I know that it is usual to say, on occasions like this, that the books being launched are timely and challenging. This time I believe it is true. I believe that we are at a pivotal moment in our faith history. The Catholic school is at the very heart of that reality. Building school communities and faith communities lies at the very centre of the whole school endeavour. When the Son of Man comes will he find faith? The man from Galilee asked 2,000 years ago. Today that question is as urgent and as relevant as ever.

I have just returned from a Diocesan Pilgrimage to Lourdes. The words of the beautiful hymn, which I heard there about finding the treasure in the field, still haunt me. But that is what building faith communities suggests. It suggests many ways of finding that treasure. Yes, this book says some tough things about Catholic schools but it is not a case of just cursing the darkness. It lights plenty of candles as well – candles which will prove, I am convinced, a valuable resource for the Catholic education sector.

I hope this book will contribute to the rich legacy of the Brothers who did so much to build faith communities in the schools of Ireland. I congratulate Tony and all of the contributors and warmly welcome its arrival and recommend it to all who have a concern for Catholic education.

The second book being launched this evening is Centenary Essays (in honour of Edmund Rice) by Séamus O’Brien. Séamus is a Senior Educational Consultant with the Centre for Education Services at Marino. He has unique insight into the mindset of the Brothers – both Christians Brothers and Presentation Brothers. He has been in all of their schools across Ireland and has worked with all of their staffs. His enthusiasm and dedication for the work of the Brother has come about through himself having been captured by the magnetism of the charism of Edmund Rice. Séamus has commissioned a wonderful and evocative range of reflections on the legacy of Edmund Rice and of the Brothers who congregated around this magnificent charism.

Centenary Essays in Honour of Edmund Rice comes at an opportune time for both the Institute and the founder of Ireland’s largest boys network of schools. An interesting emphasis throughout this book is the meshing of the Christian Brother and Presentation Brother traditions. Separated for so long, this book clearly shows the common ground shared by both of Edmund’s Orders which are now associated under the umbrella of the Edmund Rice Schools Trust. The essays take a refreshingly upbeat look at Edmund Rice the man; as chapter two so nicely states; husband, father, and founder. The inner turmoil suffered by Edmund Rice following the death of his wife Mary is described as the defining moment in his life. Thereafter he turned to the Gospels for inspiration, direction and strength. The essays break new ground also in that they are collaborative, contributed by vowed religious and laymen and women. I should say woman! Monica you were brave to throw in your lot with those twelve men!

The essays range far and wide, from Edmund’s early formative years in Callan and Waterford, which are skilfully depicted by Matthew Feheney and Séamus O’Brien.

Chapter two carefully analyses an unexplained aspect of Edmund Rice’s early life when he was married to Mary and rearing his daughter in Waterford. Denis McLoughlin, Martin O’Flaherty and Séamus O’Brien give interesting new insights into this influential period of Edmund’s life.

Chapter three examines the concept of the charism of Edmund Rice and here again we are indebted to the new insights provided by Tony Hanna, Ferdia Kelly, Jim Donovan and Luke Monahan.

The final chapter looks into the future and ask the questions ‘what relevance has Edmund Rice to today’s world? Ned Prendergast, Monica O’Reilly, Donal Blake and Donal Leader write reflectively on this challenging theme and give a resounding ‘yes’ to Edmund Rice’s relevant to today’s world.

I hope that this collection of fine essays will bring light, joy and inspiration to its readers. These essays seek to set Edmund Rice free – free from the plaster cast portrayed which restricts appreciation of his relevance for Ireland today.

I am convinced that a careful reading of it will set the reader free as well, free form ignorance and lack of appreciation of one of the heroes of Christian education.

IRISH INTER-CHURCH ECUMENICAL EVENING PRAYER SERVICE
CHURCH OF THE HOLY FAMILY, MILITARY HILL, CORK
5 MAY 2005
ADDRESS GIVEN BY
ARCHBISHOP SEÁN BRADY
ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH

It is a great pleasure to be here this evening as we begin our latest gathering of the Inter-Church meeting in this European City of Culture 2005. The Irish Inter-Church Meeting has its origins in one of the most exciting and at the same time one of the most tragic periods of the interaction between religion and culture on our island. In March of 1972, when the troubles in Northern Ireland were at their most violent, the Irish Episcopal Conference, following a series of ongoing discussions between both sides, issued an invitation to the Irish Council of Churches to attend a joint meeting, quote ‘at which the whole field of ecumenism might be surveyed.’ This initiative in turn established the first Ballymascanlon Meeting in 1973, later to become the Inter-Church Meeting which continues to this day. In the words of one commentator at the time, ‘Never before had the Churches been seen to co-operate together so openly and vigorously. Rallies in Belfast and other towns revealed many thousands willing and anxious to follow their lead… The Churches were seen more clearly in a reconciling role than ever before.’

It was a far cry from the famous faith based riots in Cork in the mid 1700’s which led John Wesley to write the following words in his famous Letter to a Roman Catholic:

“Let us resolve not to hurt one another, to do nothing unkind or unfriendly to each other . . . to say all the good we can, both of and to one another . . . to harbour no unkind thought, no unfriendly temper towards each other . . . and to endeavor to help each other on in whatever we are agreed leads to the Kingdom. So far as we can, let us always rejoice to strengthen each other’s hands in God.”

It is in that spirit of ‘strengthening each other’s hands in God’ that we gather here this evening and commit the work of our meeting to the Lord in prayer. Our prayer during these days will be a very important part of our activities. After all, we are Easter people – Ascension people – but most importantly, we are Pentecost people. The Spirit has come – the Spirit of the Risen Christ who has promised to be with his disciples until the end of time. That Spirit comes with power – the power to remember Jesus, to become more like him, to continue his saving and his unifying work. The Spirit comes with the enthusiasm of love symbolized by tongues of fire, to set our minds, our hearts and our imagination on fire. The Spirit enlivens us with a creative power, to enable us to bear witness by word and deed. The Spirit comes with different languages to undo the confusion of Babel and to unite what had been divided and separated.
The effects of that coming of the Spirit are seen at once in the address of Peter in Acts. It is one of the greatest addresses of all time. He is filled with utter conviction about the identity of Jesus and the mission of the Church. Jesus is the one and only Saviour of the world and ‘repentance and forgiveness of sins will be preached in his name to all nations, beginning at Jerusalem’.

It is this confidence which is the mark of the Spirit and for which we pray – not a Spirit of timidity, but of power and love and self-control – the Spirit of unity and peace, which brings balance and beauty to the world.

From this beautiful Church of the Holy Family on Military Hill, we are well placed to appreciate the geographical balance and beauty which distinguishes the historical city of Cork. Cork is a city of symmetry and convergence. Its skyline is silhouetted by the steeples of a vast array of Churches, representing one of the widest ranges of denominations in any city in Ireland. Its outline is marked by the circle of its ancient Norman walls. The sixth century monastic site, to which the city’s origins are traced, now the Church of Ireland Cathedral of St. Fin Barre, still watches over the south gate of the city. The Catholic North Chapel and the landmark Shandon Steeple watch over the city and its people on the north side. In between, almost every bend of the twin channels of the beloved River Lee is marked with a place of prayer or pilgrimage.

And over the years, within all of this physical symmetry, a wide range of cultural and religious influences have converged to make Cork a worthy holder of the title of European City of Culture 2005, a responsibility which it has lived up to with justifiable pride. I congratulate all of those involved in organising this year of celebration. I would also like to express my particular thanks to the members of the Cork Ecumenical Standing Committee for encouraging the Irish Inter-Church Meeting to hold this reflection on ‘Spirituality and Culture’ in this European City of Culture. It reminds us that our discussion takes place in the context of Europe, with all its diversity of culture and its rich history of Christian faith. But we are also mindful that we meet in the context of what Pope John Paul II described as the ‘loss of Europe’s Christian memory… a kind of practical agnosticism and religious indifference whereby many Europeans give the impression of living without spiritual roots.’

Certainly Europe, like Cork, like Ireland, is not lacking in prestigious symbols of the Christian presence. Yet, with the slow and steady advance of secularism, these symbols risk becoming a mere vestige of the past. Many people are no longer able to integrate the Gospel message into their daily experience; living one’s faith in Jesus has become increasingly difficult in a social and cultural setting in which that faith is constantly challenged. In Ireland today, as in much of Europe, it is sometimes easier to be identified as an agnostic than as a believer. At times the impression is given that unbelief, or hostility to faith, is self-explanatory, whereas belief needs a sort of legitimisation which is neither obvious nor taken for granted.

Hence the importance of our task of reflecting on the series of excellent papers which have been produced by the Working Party on Spirituality. Taking up Gerard Manley Hopkin’s theme of giving new freshness to ‘deep down things’, each contributor has drawn deeply on the richness of her or his own tradition. They have offered us reasons for living; reasons for believing and reasons for hope. They have asked us challenging questions to which we must respond. They have invited us, like the readings of our Ascension Service, to fix our gaze on the things of heaven – to be people of prayer, people of the Scriptures, people of wisdom and theological reflection. They call us to read and interpret the signs of the times – and at the same time to hear the voice of the two men in white robes, drawing us back into active, creative engagement with our surrounding culture.

It is interesting to note that the Scriptures we have just read reveal an early Christian community bewildered and preoccupied with the restoration of the earthly kingdom of Israel. It was a very human preoccupation. Their own place in that kingdom was in doubt. Yet Jesus called them to trust and to hope, to wait in prayerful expectation for the Spirit to empower them with the spiritual gifts, graces and talents to get on with the job. That Spirit would, in time, broaden their horizons and would eventually drive them out with humble confidence to the very ends of the earth. Yet it would also hold them in balance. They were to be in the world, but not of the world, people who understood their surrounding culture but also sought, under the Spirit, to transform it. The kingdom would be both present and becoming.

In her paper on ‘The Way Forward’, I think Frances Bach captures this balance very aptly. She suggests that, ‘Perhaps doing is not the place to start. Perhaps being comes first.’ This was the careful balance between the transcendent and the immanent, between contemplation and action which marked the lives of the early monastic founders of Ireland. It was because they were rooted in contemplation, touched daily by the life and energy of the Blessed Trinity, that they were also intrepid missionaries and exponents of the highest achievements of Irish culture. We have something to learn from these early witnesses to the power of being and doing. Without a careful balance between body and soul, spirit and matter, transcendence and immanence, culture loses it capacity to see beyond the visible and to imagine beyond the material.

In this sense, I think may be more accurate correct to say that Ireland, indeed Europe at the beginning of the third millennium, is facing a crisis of culture rather than of faith. Most people still believe. There are very few considered atheists in Ireland, indeed in the world. Yet there is increasing evidence of a loss of culture, evidence of a loss of sensitivity to the things of the spirit and the soul. You see it on our roads, you hear it in our language, and you read it in our papers. People are not so much rejecting as disconnecting from those things which give life to the soul. Just observe the level of preoccupation in the lives of those around you, perhaps even in our own lives. We are in real danger of losing our balance. Apart from the occasional upward glance at a Church spire or the jolt from a personal or global catastrophe, we are less inclined to ask eternal questions, to ponder the human, to contemplate the beautiful. And when we lose this capacity, we begin to measure the value of things by their usefulness and expediency rather than by their beauty or their being. Impatience, aggression and isolation begin to displace the culture of civility, courtesy and community. There is ample evidence that this displacement is already underway in Ireland. Yet few of our social commentators, apart from the faith communities, appear to be concerned about analysing the underlying causes of this shift or acknowledging its potentially destructive consequences. Hence the importance of our current task.

Our task is to help those around us to see in the many prestigious symbols of Christianity which surround us in this city of culture, the symbols of new hope. That hope is expressed in our being here together, in the ecumenical journey we have made, in our continued commitment to the search for that unity for which Christ prayed. We are renewed in that hope by Pope Benedict’s identification of the reconstitution of the full and visible unity of the followers of Christ as the ‘primary commitment’ of his Pontificate. “Manifestations of good sentiments are not enough,” he said. “There must be concrete gestures that penetrate spirits and move consciences, leading each one to that interior conversion that is the assumption of all progress on the path of ecumenism.” Our gathering here is precisely such a gesture. May it penetrate our spirits and move our consciences as we seek, in the words of John Wesley, to ‘strengthen each other’s hands in God’.

Like Elijah, The Lord Jesus was taken up, and, like Elijah, he cast the cloak-of responsibility onto his followers. This responsibility is to be-His dynamic presence in the world. It is a responsibility that lies upon all of His disciples, in their various ministries, and in the various sister Churches. Jesus gives the power to become His presence to those who ask it. That power is called in the Gospels by different names: The Paraclete, the Spirit of Truth, the Advocate, The Finger of God.

Jesus himself, in his life and death, embraced the Spirit of the Father totally and without-reserve. The Father was the Source of his life’s mission. I think that he would applaud the declaration of St. Theresa of Avila:

Let nothing ever disturb you! Nothing affright you!
All things are passing, God never changes!
Patient endurance attains all things!
Who God possesses, in nothing is wanting!
Alone God suffices!

His intimate union with the Father enabled him to see, judge and act with authority and wisdom. The struggle to do likewise in response to the inspirations of his Holy Spirit is the legacy he has left to each one of his disciples. As we begin this third millennium it is, without doubt, a moment of truth for all Christian disciples: a call to discern together.

What is entailed for discipleship of the Lord, and not just for Church allegiance in a contemporary Irish society?

What inherited obstacles to better co-operation is the Master encouraging us all to address and root out?
What are the signs of the times to which we must be much more alert and responsive?
What are the concrete gestures which are required of us?

And finally, are the differences between Christians condoned by the Holy Spirit, or left there to challenge our love of one another or has the voice of the Spirit at times been drowned out by other voices – incredible as that sounds.

I pray that the Holy Spirit will help all of us to begin to hear the answers to some of those questions in our reflections, prayers and discussions over the next twenty-four hours.

In the words of Pope John Paul II, in one of his last exhortations: ‘Do not be afraid… Be confident… Be certain. The Gospel of hope does not disappoint! It is the prophecy of a new world. It is the sign of a new beginning. It is the invitation to everyone, believers and non-believers alike, to blaze new trials leading to a ‘Europe of the Spirit… Europe [Ireland], rediscover your origins. Open wide the doors to Christ!’

MASS OF THANKSGIVING
FOR THE ELECTION OF POPE BENEDICT XVI
HOMILY
MOST REVEREND SEÁN BRADY
ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH
22 APRIL 2005

We praise you, O God:
We acclaim you as the Lord.
Everlasting Father,
all the world bows down before you,
all the angels sing your praise,
the hosts of Heaven and all the angelic powers,
all the Cherubim and Seraphim,
call out to you an unending song,
Holy, Holy, Holy,
is the Lord God of Angel Hosts.

These words are taken from the Te Deum, the Church’s traditional Hymn of Thanksgiving to God. This evening we give thanks to God with great joy in our hearts. We give thanks to God for our new Pope, Pope Benedict XVI. On Tuesday the bells of this Cathedral tolled out in praise and exultation and they were heard around the world, thanks to Sky television and BBC.

The late Pope John Paul II had asked people to pray after his death that the Conclave might be speedy, harmonious and fruitful. It appears that those prayers were answered. The new Pope was elected on the fourth ballot. We do not know, but this would seem to indicate a lot of harmony and agreement among the Cardinals that they wanted to continue the line followed by Pope John Paul II. Who better qualified than his Number One Assistant for the last 24 years, Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger.

So the fruits of the Conclave are that we now have, at the helm of our Church, a man of vast experience. At 35 years of age he was chosen to be an adviser to the German Bishops for the Second Vatican Council. After that he spent many years teaching Theology. Theology is literally the science of God, the knowledge of God. So before he could teach, he himself had to study and reflect and pray. Anyone who heard his brilliant sermon at the funeral of Pope John Paul II will know just how well the then Cardinal Ratzinger understands the Scriptures, which are the Word of God. He has spent his life reading them, listening to them and studying the writings of saints and scholars about the Word of God and preaching the Good News.

After teaching in many German Universities he became Archbishop of a large German diocese, Munich, in his native Bavaria. Then in 1981 he was called to Rome to head up the most important Department or Ministry or Congregation, that is, the Doctrine of the Faith. As the name indicates, it deals with the teaching of the faith, faith in Jesus Christ. It is concerned with discerning what is true and what is false, what is right and what is wrong. Nobody likes being told that they are doing wrong and that they are not speaking the truth. But what loving Father, who cares for his children, would deprive them of this guidance. Where this sort of guidance and discipline is not present, and is not respected, then there can be disastrous results, as people flounder about in confusion and ignorance. Cardinal Ratzinger’s job was to promote the teaching of the true faith and morals on behalf of the Church, on behalf of the Holy Father.

I met Cardinal Ratzinger in 1991 when he came to the Irish College to speak to the College Community. I found him most gracious and charming, humble and unassuming, clear and learned. I got the impression that he is a holy man, a man of prayer. He speaks and understands English perfectly. He is obviously a man who prays and works very hard. So when he describes himself as “a simple and humble worker in the vineyard of the Lord”, he is stating what is a fact. He leads a simple lifestyle. He works consistently and seriously at the tasks entrusted to him. He, at the same time, realises that he has his limitations, as every human being has, but he puts his trust in the help of the Risen Lord,. As he said in his first words, he entrusts himself to the protection of Mary. He also relies on the assistance of our prayers, as he said on the first evening and again yesterday, he was humble enough and gracious enough to ask for those prayers.

I was thrilled to see that in his first message Pope Benedict XVI asks everyone to intensify, in the coming months, the love and devotion to the Eucharistic Jesus and to express, in a courageous and clear way, the real presence of the Lord. We are in the Year of the Eucharist and he asks this, in a special way of priests. Pope Benedict assumes, as his primary commitment, that of working tirelessly towards the reconstitution of the full and visible unity of all Christian followers. This is his ambition, this is his compelling duty, he says, and to do this, concrete gestures are required. He is disposed to do all in his power to promote the fundamental cause of Ecumenism. This is music to my ears, and I hope it will help all of us here in Ireland.

The new Pope knows that his task is to bring the light of Christ to shine before men and women today. For Christ is the way, the truth and the life. There is no other way to God the Father except through Him. He is the way which we must all follow, but before we follow any way, we must know in truth, that this is the way that leads to life, eternal life.

The new Pope sends an affectionate embrace to young people. He is looking forward to meeting some of them in Cologne, in his native Germany, on World Youth Day in August. He says he will listen to their expectations in order to help them meet ever more profoundly, the living ever-young Christ.

Pope Benedict XVI says that he intends to serve only Christ and he dedicates himself to that task with his full power. This evening we ask God’s help for him in his new ministry and God’s help for ourselves that we too will dedicate ourselves and serve only the living Christ. We will not serve a God of wealth, a God of pleasure, a God of power but God of Jesus Christ and we will do that by responding, with all our abilities, to His love which He revealed to us when He died for us on the Cross.
Amen.

CELEBRATION OF MASS FOR THE ELECTION OF A NEW POPE
ST PATRICK’S CATHEDRAL, ARMAGH
18 APRIL 2005
HOMILY BY
MOST REVEREND SEÁN BRADY
ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH

One week ago, before leaving Rome, I met Cardinal Connell to wish him well for the Conclave. He asked specifically for the help of my prayers and I assured him that we would all, during these days be praying earnestly for him and for all the other Cardinals whose task it is to elect the new Pope.
So these days, people all over the world, will be asking that God will raise up a faithful shepherd, as Bishop of Rome, someone who will do what is in the heart and mind of God.

To know what is in the heart and mind of God the new Pope will be someone who gives time to prayer. He will do so in order to know God intimately and especially to know Jesus Christ, whom the Father sent into the world to show His love for us. Jesus had experienced the love of the Father in such a powerful way that even in the darkest hour of His suffering He put all his trust in the love of the Father. During his final days and weeks, the late Holy Father, Pope John Paul II, showed to the world, in a remarkable way, his absolute trust in the love of God, in the love of Jesus.

To know what is in the heart and mind of God, the new Pope will know how to lead the Church in examining closely the signs of the times. He will think long and hard in order to discover what those signs are saying to all of us and how best to respond to them. He will do this because the Church, which he will be leading, is itself meant to be a sign, a sign of the unity of the human race, as the one family of God, plus also it is meant to be a means of bringing that unity about. And so the new Pope will have an ability to listen to others about what are the best means to achieve that unity.

The new Pope will be well aware of Christ’s command to Peter to confirm His brothers and sisters in His faith. So he will try in his words, and in his deeds, in his attitudes and approaches, to renew and revive faith in the hearts and minds of those whose faith is withering. He will do so in his care and concern for the poor and the oppressed of the world, through clearly and courageously announcing Jesus Christ, Him crucified, to a world that is desperately hungry for good news.

The new Pope will be a man who is himself filled with hope and who will share that hope with the rest of us, by reminding us of the fantastic promises which Jesus has made. He will remind us especially of the promise to remain with us until the end of time, by drawing our attention to the divine mercy for which so many millions are waiting. Finally, he will remind us of that promise by gently but firmly, focusing our sights on the power of Jesus who has promised to be with his disciples until the end of time.

We know that, as a disciple of Christ, the new Holy Father will certainly feel the need and the joy of bearing witness to the fact that God revealed Himself in Christ. And he will do so, I am sure, without any reservation or hesitation but also in the knowledge that Christ and His Spirit are already present in all who live sincerely according to their religious beliefs and convictions.

The new Pope will also engage in respectful dialogue, I am sure, with all genuinely religious people, knowing that the Holy Spirit inspires every search of the human spirit, for truth and goodness and ultimately for God. In that way he will build up trust and friendship, the kind of trust and friendship that comes from an appreciation of one another’s religious families and that will be a good thing.

So tonight we ask the Holy Spirit to create a space in the hearts and minds of the electors where the divine inspirations can be heard and welcomed so that we will get a Shepherd who will walk in the ways of the Lord. A Pope whose ever watchful care will bring to the world, God’s abundant blessing. May we get a Pope who will be an example of goodness, after the model of John Paul II. A Pope who will open our hearts and minds to put our trust, not in ourselves, not in our own powers, abilities and talents, but in the Good News brought by Jesus Christ.

FEAST OF THE ANNUNCIATION
HOMILY GIVEN BY
CARDINAL SEÁN BRADY
ST. PATRICK’S CATHEDRAL, ARMAGH
MONDAY 4 APRIL 2005
IN MEMORY OF POPE JOHN PAUL II

In the preface for the Mass of Holy Men and Women, the Church proclaims its faith in God’s ability to renew the Church in every age, by raising up men and women outstanding in holiness, living witnesses of his unchanging love.

This evening, that faith is renewed again as we celebrate God’s gift to the Church and to the world of an outstanding witness to Christ, a loving Pastor and an historic leader of the of whole human family, in the life of our beloved Holy Father, Pope John Paul II.

Much has been said and written about Pope John Paul II in recent days. There is no doubt that in religious, philosophical and political terms, his legacy will be immense. But this evening I would like to suggest that it is in the Gospel of the Annunciation, which we have just read, that we discover the deepest and most intimate source of his untiring generosity, his utter commitment to the ministry of service and unity, which is the office of Peter and his heroic proclamation of the Gospel of life across the world.

In our Gospel this evening, St. Luke tells us that “Mary was deeply disturbed by these words”. No doubt when, on Monday 16th October, 1978, at 18 minutes before six, one of the College of Cardinals approached the Archbishop of Krakow and told him he had been elected to succeed his beloved predecessor, Albiano Luciani, even the young, strong Karol Wojtyla, was disturbed. We know this because he told us so.

In his very first address from the balcony of St. Peter’s Basilica, the newly elected Pope John Paul II said: “I was afraid to accept this responsibility. Yet I do so in a spirit of obedience to the Lord and total faithfulness to Mary.”

Then, in his first homily, in words which echo the intimate dialogue of salvation between Mary and the angel in this evening’s Gospel, the newly elected Pope John Paul II, opened his ministry as Pope with the words, ‘Do not be afraid! Open wide the doors of Christ. To his saving power, open the boundaries of states, economic and political systems, the vast fields of culture, civilisation and development. Do not be afraid!’

Opening every aspect of our hearts, our lives and our human and social activity to the life-giving and transforming presence of Christ, this was the defining mission of Pope John Paul II. Everything flowed from and returned to this. While the impact of this mission was immense and its character truly fearless, it’s source was much more simple and profound. This was a man who, like Mary, had learnt from a very early age to rely, not on his own power, or logic, or gifts or talents, but to rely totally on the loving power and providence of God. When he chose the motto of Totus Tuus for his Pontificate, it was an expression of his total abandonment to God and of his untiring generosity to others.

Such total trust in God’s providence and power is often characteristic of those who, like Mary, have discovered two things in their lives – God’s intimacy and closeness in prayer, and God’s sustaining presence in the midst of their suffering.

Perhaps it was the broken heart of a young boy who had lost his mother and only brother at such a young age. Perhaps it was his experience of the Nazi occupation and war in Poland, the cruel treatment of his many Jewish friends in the holocaust or the experience of the oppressive and lifeless impact of atheistic communism on the lives of his fellow Poles. But whatever it was, it was clear that this was a man who, like Mary, had learnt at a very young age to trust in the intimacy of God which he had first experienced in the silence of contemplation and prayer. It is no coincidence I believe, that the theme of his doctoral studies as a young priest was not that of ethics, or Catholic Social teaching, or the renewal of the Church, extraordinary though his insights and teaching on each of this themes has been. His first study was that of mysticism and prayer in the life the great mystic and renewer, St. John of the Cross.

It is so appropriate that the last word spoken by the Holy Father was the word ‘Amen’ – the same response of Mary to the Angel who asked her open her heart, her very body to the presence of Christ – ‘Let it be so’. As we honour his life, his death, his untiring service and his extraordinary legacy, perhaps we could take to heart again those words. The words with which he greeted us as he began his ministry and which he repeated as he carried us across the threshold of hope into a new millennium – Open wide your hearts to Christ. Do not be afraid! Do not be afraid!

DIVINE MERCY SUNDAY
HOMILY GIVEN BY
ARCHBISHOP SEÁN BRADY
ST. PATRICK’S CATHEDRAL, ARMAGH
SUNDAY 3 APRIL 2005

On Sunday 30 April 2000, Pope John Paul II canonised St. Faustina Kowalska. He began his Homily by quoting the words of Psalm 118.1 –
“Give thanks to the Lord for He is good
His steadfast love endures forever”

words which the Church sings on the octave of Easter as it receives, from the lips of the Risen Christ, the great message of Divine Mercy and entrusts the task of dispensing that mercy to the Apostles.
The Holy Father went on to say that his joy was truly great in presenting the life and witness of St. Faustina to the whole Church as a gift of God for our time. For, by Divine Providence, the life of this humble daughter of Krakov, in Poland was completely linked with the history of the century. In fact, it was between the first and second World Wars that Christ entrusted his message of mercy to her. It is not a new message by any means, but it can be considered as a gift of special enlightenment – a ray of light to the man and woman.

Yesterday evening, as you know, the Holy Father died at 9.37 pm in his private apartment. At 8.00 pm the celebration of Mass for Divine Mercy Sunday began in the Holy Father’s room. During the course of the Mass the Viaticum was administered to the Holy Father and once again the anointing of the sick. Truly the ways of God’s providence are marvellous.

Give thanks to the Lord for He is good;
His steadfast love endures forever.

In the course of that homily five years ago, Pope John Paul II went on to say “It is important that we accept the whole message that comes to us on this Second Sunday of Easter, which from now on will be called Divine Mercy Sunday”.

So what is this whole message? The Holy Father points two important facts –

1. The path of mercy re-establishes the relationship of each person with God – a relationship ruptured by sin but it does mean mercy creates new relations among human beings.

2. We not only receive and experience the mercy of God – we are called to practise mercy to others.
On this Divine Mercy Sunday I would like to remind you of a couple of incidents from the Gospels which illustrate how Jesus was merciful. St. Luke tells us that Jesus had a preference for poor people. The sinners find a friend in Jesus. He was not afraid to associate with them.

Ø When Jesus went to a town called Nain, he met a widow whose only son had just died. Jesus had compassion; that is, he had mercy on her and told her not to cry. Then he raised her son from the dead and gave him back to his mother.

Ø On another occasion, a man called Jairus came and begged Jesus to come to his house where he had an only daughter, about twelve years old, who was dying. Again, Jesus had mercy on him and came to his house and restored the girl to life. Jesus showed his mercy in a special way towards women and strangers.
Jesus had risen on the day he appeared to the apostles and showed them his hands and his side. He said to them,
“Peace be with you. The Father has sent me, so I send you. Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven. If you retain the sins of any, they are retained”.

With these words the Risen Christ brings the great message of Divine Mercy and entrusts its administration to the apostles. In other words, he asked the apostles to bring the divine mercy of God to others. By pointing out the wounds of the passion – and especially the wounds in his heart – Jesus is pointing out the source from which this great wave of mercy flows.

It was in the middle of the last century that St. Faustina had a vision in which she saw two rays of light shining. We are told that these two rays of light represented blood and water. In Mel Gibson’s film The Passion which I saw recently the Roman soldier on Calvary, pierces Christ’s side with his spear. Blood and water flow from his side. The blood recalls the sacrifice of the cross and the gift of the Eucharist. The water represents the sacrament of Baptism and also the gift of the Holy Spirit.

The message is that God’s mercy comes to us through the heart of Christ’s pierced side. Jesus Christ pours out this message on the human race through the descending of the Holy Spirit.

The late Pope John Paul II went on to spell out that mercy is the deepest and most tender aspect of love. It is mercy’s ability to take up and carry various burdens, for example, the burden of grief and sorrow, the burden of pain, of worry and especially the burden of guilt, which is taken away by forgiveness. So, I think we all need the mercy of God because we all, at times, feel crushed under various loads of troubles.
The message of mercy, given by Christ to St Faustina in the years between the first and second world wars was very important. It was a message that gave hope to many in the midst of suffering.
It is not a new message but it does offer a ray of light to the people of our time. For that to happen we must welcome into our lives the Risen Christ, who shows the wounds of his crucifixion and repeats, “Peace be with you”.

The human race must let itself be touched and pervaded by the spirit given to it by the Risen Christ. It is the Holy Spirit who heals the wounds of the heart and pulls down the barriers that separate and divide us from one another. At the same time, the Spirit restores the joy of the Father’s love and of brotherly unity.
But we not only receive and experience the mercy of God. We are also called to practice mercy towards one another. “Blessed are the merciful,” said Jesus, “for they shall obtain mercy”. He also tells us that there are many paths of mercy. Mercy not only forgives sins but mercy reaches out to all human needs, especially the needs we have for help to carry the burdens of life and that message of mercy continues to reach us through His hands, held out.

The canonisation of St Faustina emphasises this message of mercy. Pope John Paul II told us that it was important that we study it so that we will learn to know ever better the true face of God and the true face of our brothers and sisters. In fact love of God and love of one’s brothers and sisters are inseparable. But of course it is not easy to love with a deep love that only comes with an authentic gift of penetrating the mystery of God’s love. When we look at God, and are united with his fatherly heart, well then we are able to look with new eyes at our brothers and sisters and view them with an attitude of unselfishness and generosity and forgiveness. All of this is mercy.

We all need to hear the message of Divine Mercy. We need to realise that we have all sinned and have need of God’s forgiveness but the message of Divine Mercy tells us that, that forgiveness is available to us if we have the humility to ask.

The message of divine mercy is also a message about the value of every human being. Each person is precious in God’s eyes. Christ gave his life for each one of us. This is a most consoling message especially for those who are crushed by the weight of trouble or the weight of guilt or those who may have lost all confidence in life and are troubled to despair.

Last week I met some people up in Ards in Donegal. I asked them what is the secret of Divine Mercy? They said they just leave it all to Jesus. They take the prayer Jesus, I trust in you at its face value and abandon themselves completely to Him. It dispels the thickest clouds.

We all need to be aware of the depth of divine mercy. We need to experience it ourselves in our own lives and we need to show that mercy ourselves to others. Pope John Paul II won the hearts of others by his goodness and mercy. He spanned all ages to conversion. We are all called to play our part in encouraging sinners to conversion and confession. We can all play our part in calming rivalries and healing hatred. Let us, the evening, say with firm hope:
Christ Jesus, I trust in you.

“Northern Ireland: A New Dawn?”
Address by
Cardinal Seán Brady
Ecumenical Lenten Lecture Series
Rathfarnham Parish, Dublin
8.00 p.m. Thursday 3rd March, 2005

Archbishop Eames, Rev. Woods, Ladies and gentlemen,

When the late Father Liam Carey wrote to me some months ago, on behalf of the three parishes, to invite me to speak here tonight, I felt at once flattered, honoured and challenged. I was aware that Father Carey, in his earlier years, had worked here in Dublin in the area of Adult Education and Community Development. I suppose it was this great interest in authentic and inclusive development that led him to get involved in the Lenten Ecumenical Lectures Series, which he and Reverend Ted Woods were organising together.

In a letter to me on 30 November 2004 Father Carey promised to keep me informed of developments and arrangements concerning this programme. Well, the Lord had other plans for Father Carey. I am hoping that this evening he will keep me inspired during the developments and arrangements of this evening’s proceedings.

I am also happy to note that in these parishes: the Church of the Holy Spirit and the Church of the Annunciation, there are two former students of the Irish College, Rome: Father Eamon McNerney and Father Des Hayden and also that Father Joe Hanlon is Parish Priest.

The title of this evening’s talk which Archbishop Eames and I have been asked to address is: Northern Ireland – A New Dawn? Last evening when I mentioned the title to a friend he said: “A new ridge of low pressure or a trough of deep depression might be a more accurate description of the present situation”.
I am well aware that a lot of people are getting tired of the peace process in Northern Ireland. They are becoming rather cynical and are tempted to say, ‘what peace process’? and, in a sense one cannot blame them. There are good reasons for a certain amount of weariness and disillusionment and disgust and confusion about this whole process and yet the Church does not tire. It does not tire of preaching the Good News – the Good News of peace.

The Church proclaims the Good News that brings salvation. Of course that salvation is achieved definitively in the new life that awaits the righteous after death. But that salvation also permeates the present world in areas such as economy and labour; technology and communications; society and politics; the international community and relations among cultures and peoples.

The Church proclaims the Gospel that brings genuine freedom, not only internally to the person but also to temporal realities. As the Church proclaims that freedom, she is mindful of the solemn advice, given by Paul to Timothy when he said: “Preach the word, be urgent in season and out of season, convince, rebuke, and exalt, be unfailing in patience and in teaching”. Clearly Paul understood that the journey to peace and freedom, like discipleship itself, required unfailing patience and perseverance, both in season and out of season.

Another Pauline character who understood this need for patient perseverance in the search for peace was the great American pastor and non-violent civil rights leader, Martin Luther King. On the 28th August 1963 he made what is generally regarded as one of the most inspirational speeches of the twentieth century. In it Pastor King took up the biblical theme of the slow, often uncertain journey of God’s people from captivity to the land of freedom and promise. It is described for us in the book of Exodus. He addressed a rally of some 200,000 people at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington with the following words: ‘When we let freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, “Free at last! Free at last! Thank God almighty, we are free at last!”.

The crowds arose in prolonged applause and, as you know, this passionate cry for freedom became not only the legacy but also the final epitaph of Martin Luther King. Clearly this heroic Christian advocate of non-violent social and political change had touched on something very fundamental to the human spirit – the search for freedom.
In the years that followed, that search for freedom, that dream of new relationships between peoples of different nationalities, races and religious faith, took hold across the world. Thanks to television and radio, people quickly became caught up in the vision of new possibilities for the whole human family – the possibility of real equality, with respect for diversity; of real justice and solidarity, with a sense of responsibility for each other; of a new solidarity and global concern for others, particularly for the starving and the poor. It was also the time of the Second Vatican Council.
This was also a period of new impetus in Ecumenical and inter-faith relations, of the aggiornamento and rinnovamento of the Catholic Church which would spur on new journeys of dialogue, affection and respect between the communities of Christian faith, not least here in Ireland.

In Northern Ireland, this dream of new possibilities, of which Martin Luther King spoke, found expression in the Civil Rights Movement. That Movement arose from a new level of awareness of social, political and economic inequalities. What was to happen next, however, was to change all of our lives to this present day. While the search for civil and political rights in the US remained largely faithful to the non-violent methodology espoused by Martin Luther King, the journey in Northern Ireland was to take a very different direction. In a complex chain of action and reaction, which defies any simple moral analysis, tempting though that might be, Northern Ireland quickly descended into the dark malaise of violence and political atrophy, which we have come to know as The Troubles. What could be aptly described, in the context of tonight’s presentation, as the dark night of Northern Ireland’s soul. More importantly, and I worry that younger generations will forget this, it was a period of immense human suffering, misery, death and pain. It was a far cry from freedom, a far cry from justice, a far cry from the more dignified and prosperous life which those engaged in violence on all sides were in some sense claiming to protect or promote.
As we consider the question at the heart of this evening’s talk – Northern Ireland: a new dawn (question mark) – two aspects of this period continue to be of particular interest to me.

The first is the very narrow concept of freedom which dominated then and continues to frustrate the dawning of a new era in Northern Ireland. We have a tradition in Ireland of understanding our freedom as a ‘freedom from’, notably freedom from British rule or possibly for Protestants in the north, freedom from Catholic domination. By any standards this is a narrow and profoundly outdated notion of freedom. The biblical concept of freedom, captured in Martin Luther King’s programmatic address, is a much richer and deeper concept. It includes the notion of ‘freedom for’ – freedom for the other, freedom for responsibility, freedom for truth, freedom for service, freedom for the good of others as well as for oneself. It is a concept of freedom, which sees sin, selfishness, anger, revenge, disordered passions and appetites as forms of personal and collective slavery. We must be freed from all forms of slavery if we are to experience life to the full. Critically, though, freedom from fear is the most fundamental freedom of all.

Perfect love, the Scriptures tell us, casts out all fear. Those who wish to hold us back from loving others or acting freely within and beyond our own tradition will often use fear as their first weapon against our freedom.

This is a particularly poignant point in the light of recent events in the Short Strand and in other places. The courage and determination of the McCartney family to ensure justice for their brother, Robert, has been an outstanding example of how the power of love, the love of another person, the love of noble ideals such as justice, fairness and freedom, can rise up and render transparent and weak the efforts of others to bully, frighten and control whole communities for their own selfish or political ends. For my part I would like to express my wholehearted support to the calls from the McCartney family for anyone with information about the vicious and brutal murder of Robert McCartney to come forward to the police and to help to secure a conviction for his murder through the courts. It is not good enough; it is not consistent with the principle of freedom, for people to present this information in a way, which cannot be used to secure a conviction.

Surely it is time for Catholics in Northern Ireland to set aside their historic reservations about the Police, however well founded they may have been, and to assume their full civic responsibility for an agreed and representative system of law and order. A community which was prepared to make a deal which included accepting shared responsibility for devolved powers over policing in December, cannot credibly fail to support co-operation with policing on such a grave and criminal matter in March.

I am convinced that the existence and established reputation of the office of the Police Ombudsman alone should be enough to ensure the confidence of anyone who has information to fulfil their obligation before God to bring those responsible for the murder of Robert McCartney to justice. I appeal to them, for the sake of their conscience and in the name of freedom and justice, to do so and to do so urgently.

For I believe that it is not only dawning, but it is becoming crystal clear that to protect the common good, it is up to the lawful, public authority to exercise the right and the duty to inflict punishments according to the Criminal Code. This right belongs to the lawful public authority alone, not to some self-appointed private illegal groups who specialize in the destruction of evidence of a case rather than its production in a court of law in order to secure a conviction. The power to inflict punishment is entrusted to the Court. That Court of law is not only independent of party political influence, it is also independent of the Legislature and the Executive. This applies right across the board in any authentic democracy.

The second aspect of the early troubles which attracts my particular interest this evening is the role of the four main Churches at this time – the Presbyterian, Church of Ireland, Methodist and Catholic Churches. There was a time at the beginning of the troubles when political discussion was often deadlocked, and many people would not even speak to one another. It was then that many courageous men and women at a local level, out of Christian conviction, and often led by their clergy, established points of contact, places of encounter and dialogue amidst the bitterness and division. At a leadership level, the leaders of the four main Churches began the Ballymascanlon Talks. It was a hugely significant breakthrough at the time of the early seventies. Visually, they provided a powerful symbol of the possibility of mutual respect and dialogue in the midst of an increasingly divided and violent society. It is my own conviction that, in addition to the calming and restraining influence of the main Churches on the dangerous dynamics of that time, the language and concepts which emerged from the dialogue between the main Churches at a local and leadership level, became in large part, the language and inspiration of what has become known as the Peace Process. As one Unionist politician commented recently:

‘On balance, churches have been a stabilising influence. Although the “two communities” are now highly segregated, on the whole there is probably more civility between them than there would have been without the presence of the church. The churches have been one of the factors that have prevented Northern Ireland from following the path of Kosovo or Bosnia.’

The words reconciliation, forgiveness, truth, integrity, peace, conversion, repentance, mutual respect, interdependence, equality, parity of esteem, all of these terms found their place in the specifically religious vocabulary of the people of Northern Ireland. Long before others ever began to use these words here they were used by those who acted out of a heroic conviction of faith and who engaged with one another in the patient search for peace and understanding.

I mention this not simply to give credit to the Churches, though I do feel their role has often been overlooked. I do so rather to point out that the dream of peace, as Martin Luther King described it, is something that comes from, and belongs to, the people themselves, collectively. Indeed, the failure to maintain a broader social base and to invest more widely in forms of social and bridging capital other than party politics has been partly responsible, in my view, for the wearying start-stop nature of the peace process in Northern Ireland. As the Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Catholic Church points out, ‘the goal which believers must put before themselves is that of establishing community relationships among people. It is not one of pursuing selfish or strategic interests. ‘The Christian vision of political society places paramount importance on the value of community, both as a model for organising life in society and as a style of everyday living.’ The Compendium also goes on to say that:

An authentic democracy is the result of a convinced acceptance of the values that inspire democratic procedures. Those values are the dignity of every human person, the respect of human rights, commitment to the common good as the purpose and guiding criterion for political life.

That final phrase commitment to the common good is critical in our current context. It is not personal or party mandates which provide the first point of reference for authentic democracy, but the orientation of that mandate toward the common good of society as a whole. This is consistent with the biblical view that peace is a vision, a dream, a hope which all of the people possess collectively. When individuals vote overwhelmingly in favour of a shared vision of peace, it implies that they are willing to negotiate on some of their deepest held aspirations, for the sake of the greater good of all. Those who receive the mandate to strive for that peace from within a particular political party or tradition, not only receive the right to represent and negotiate for the aspirations of their own voters. They also receive a solemn responsibility to deliver that peace according to the values and aspirations which society as a whole has collectively endorsed.

In my view, this is the moral implication of the referendum on the Good Friday Agreement. That referendum was an act of self-determination, overwhelmingly endorsed by the people of Ireland on both sides of the border. It was a mandate for an agreed, collective and inclusive vision of partnership and peace, for a new beginning to democracy based on equality and the use of purely peaceful and morally upright means.

The unfolding of that Agreement has, at times, been frustrated and frustrating. At different points different factors were to blame. The most pervasive and consistent factor was, of course, the failure to build confidence and trust. This has led to many false dawns and disappointing days.

As I said at the beginning, it has also led to a growing weariness and disillusionment about the very prospect of peace itself. But, as the history of salvation constantly reminds us, it is sometimes in the midst of weariness and confusion that new and more realistic possibilities emerge that the light of a new and more authentic dawn breaks through.

For my part, I would hope that out of all of this soul-searching and confusion, there would emerge a clearer idea of what is the purpose of political activity. My hope is that it will begin to dawn on all of us that the purpose of political life is not the political party but the human person and the common good.

I would hope that it may begin to dawn on people also that you can only build genuine peace on truth, not on lies, falsehood and deceit. You may ask to whom am I referring? I am talking about anyone who tells lies, any person or group who deliberately conceals their true intent, activity or corporate personality, while at the same time sues for peace. You can’t build trust between people who lie to each other.
I would also hope that people are becoming more aware of the danger of handing over their hard won freedom of thought, action and conscience to the bullying mob for the sake of some outdated and oppressive sense of community loyalty. This is not freedom but a new and brutal form of oppression. And once the people stop being afraid, once they find the courage to stand-up and say enough is enough, it is amazing how quickly things can change.

What is clear is that in the midst of the confusion and disillusionment of the current crisis, we have reached a fork in the road, a defining moment on the journey towards a lasting peace. And like any defining moment in the scriptures, it is a moment of opportunity as well as challenge. The opportunity is to build the peace process and the principles of the Good Friday Agreement on a more certain and transparent moral basis. A situation where all paramilitary groups have given up their weapons, their threats and their subversive economies and finally honoured the will of the people for a normalised society and a normal opportunity for life and for living, and where the rest, as they say, will be politics.

What is certainly becoming clearer every day is that a fundamental shift is taking place in the peace process. The language of constructive ambiguity and moral murk has had its day. People want the real thing. They want transparency and accountability. They want prosperity and freedom. They want local power and effective law and order. They want actions not words.

It is only when this begins to happen, when the people themselves begin to take responsibility again for the pursuit of peace, for exposing the contradictions within their own community, as well as in others, that the new dawn for Northern Ireland will really begin to emerge. I believe that the current impasse, if handled properly, if faced up to with courage, integrity and a concern for the common good, could turn out to be that moment of darkness before the dawn. And when it comes, those who in the name of Jesus have constantly rejected violence and sought the good of others as well as themselves, will be able to join together in singing, ‘Free at last! Free at last! Thank God almighty, we’re free at last!’