The Church of Ireland
Diocesan Press Release

As I speak to you, it’s just eighteen days since it happened, and I have no need to say what ‘it’ is. September 11th 2001. A single day, stabbed by merciless and ferocious acts.

And now, as if there wasn’t enough anyway, we have:

So much more pain in mind, body, spirit, much beyond words.

So much more grief and compassion, expressed in rivers of bewildered tears.

So much more fear, driving out love, and demonising the enemy.

So much more anger day by day.

And there will I suppose be

So much more violence.

In the midst of it all, there are signs that we are seeking wisdom.

What shall we say, when millions of images, words and opinions have been filling the screens of our minds during these last days? To say nothing of what has happened is impossible, but what to say? Anything I might say is almost certain to reveal real ignorance – and to be out of date. How can one try to speak critically or dispassionately of the wider issues without seeming to belittle our sympathy and horror which are very, very great?

My own hypocrisy also makes me slow to say anything. As I sympathise this time, I confess that I cannot help but think of the multitude of other miseries, which never totally captured my attention or concern. I am sorry for this, but I have found that there is a limit to my imaginative capacity when faced with huge suffering. I protect myself. But on September 11th the sheer horror of human violence has hit us once again and as I speak the prospect of further dangerous violence looms bleakly and there are already ghastly scenes of unrest and millions of refugees.

Truly we weep with those who weep, and mourn with those who mourn.

To call for restraint does not indicate lack of sympathy – rather, the reverse. It is because of our sympathy with awful horror and pain that we do not want to see it multiplied. Neither does a desire to understand what creates the mind of a terrorist mean that anything is condoned. What happened was utterly wrong, inexcusable. But it may not have been inexplicable. The surviving perpetrators must be brought to justice, of course. But the fullest justice will cause us all to ask searching questions. What circumstances, as well as people, could have conspired to bring this terrible thing into being?

And what shall we say of God? How can one speak of a God of love? More than that, what shall we say to Him; what might He be saying to us?

We have been faced globally with a public atrocity in America. Atrocities are part of our global history, but the scale, the ferocity, the years of steady anger and the sheer unshakeable conviction that must have lain behind it are terrifying. Above all there is the visibility; there is the fact is that we have witnessed this awful thing – seen thousands die before our eyes: we did not hear about it, laundered by time or economised in print. We saw it, and it has been fascinatingly replayed and replayed to our shame. We have seen an image of the unthinkable. We cannot erase it, nor can we quite look at it.

If we had successfully deceived ourselves, our vulnerability and frailty are there for all to see. It was always there of course, but now a simmering cauldron deep down has been stirred and refuelled, the cauldron of our own impotence and ambivalence in the face of good and evil, the fear of our own death. We don’t feel safe any more. Something wants to burst out – emotions first: compassion and the desire to make it all go away, to wind the clock back, to mop up the tears - but see also the pain, rage, indignation and desire for revenge. And reason struggles, too: can we make sense of God and humanity, of good and evil, life and death, of history and what our future might be? How to respond to hidden threat, a largely unknown enemy, has become a burning issue.

Here’s part of my own melting pot, which I share with you: Let’s be very, very slow to ‘cry havoc! and let slip the dogs of war’.

I have to say that I am simply not qualified to speak of politics or warfare, neither do I really understand what is possible or likely by way of a response and counter-response. But I know that war is a terrible, dreadful thing whose injuries extend for generations. The work of the planned global coalition has been looking very dangerous, impossible and counterproductive to me. I hope I will be proved wrong. Days of real anxiety pass, one by one, and in a new sense we watch and pray.

As of today, there is continued military build-up but no reported action. There are perhaps some flickers of hope in all the sabre-rattling. There is a recognition that any military action must be accompanied by huge humanitarian aid. There is a recognition that while justice must be sought, a truer justice will seek to understand and alleviate the poverty, misery and frustration of so many.

I know it is easy to make the bible say anything one wants, but as just one Christian point of view, I want to say these things:

Since the dreadful premeditated destruction of ordinary civilian sacred life is an abuse of our freedom, to reply in kind is to commit the same sin. If the breaking of the commandment of God – ‘Thou shalt do no murder’ has violated us, then for us to break it likewise will only increase the injustice and the grievance, prolonging and extending the misery. If we catch ourselves caring less about the loss of life of Afghans than we do of our own race, then an unpalatable truth is revealed. Vengeance is mine, says the Lord. So it is not the way for us. Do not repay evil with evil, or insult with insult.

A pre-existing global fracture line has been widened by this atrocity, and threatens to widen again and again with response and counter-response. The frustration and grievance that were present in the fracture and which generated such an atrocity will not be stamped out by violence. Their causes are deeper than the surface-deep label of evil fanaticism. Attitudes are changed by education, by understanding, by imaginative sympathy – above all, by God. Christians are to bridge division, not widen and deepen it. Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, says the LORD God almighty.

We cannot repair the fracture without the presence of God. On the cross, outside the city walls, in the rubbish dump of Golgotha, Jesus Christ inhabited the fracture – the lines of our brokenness and disagreement. Accepting violence to him, He was crucified between thieves, factions, and fanatical sects, even empires. To side with one would have meant ignoring the humanity of another. It brought death to him, but through him, life to us. The power of generous, sacrificial understanding and love is ours to rediscover in Him, painful though it will be. God made him who knew no sin to become sin for us, so that in him we could become the righteousness of God. Our righteousness and the righteousness of our cause will only be effective, and be proved, in our continued relationship with Christ – the Way, the Truth and the Life. We are called to reconcile; what a hard task this is! As has been said recently, we must wage reconciliation

We must not let fear take charge of our reason. It is easy for the vulnerable human animal to lash out irrationally when afraid or threatened. In contrast, love seeks to understand; to imagine what it is like to be another. Our imaginative sympathy has caused us to weep in these days. There is hope in this. But lack of it will harden our hearts and make us indifferent to the cries of millions more. Lack of love will diminish our understanding , and do nothing to prevent the recurrence of the horrors we have seen. True love remains observant and we need to see and understand the issues of poverty and deprivation, of war and famine. This is a fearful task, but ultimately it will bring healing and peace. There is no fear in love; perfect love casts out fear.

And now a simple practical consideration: How shall we pray? I commend to you the Lord’s Prayer, the mature and distilled wisdom of our Lord Jesus Christ. By this I do not mean simply saying the Lord’s Prayer but actually using it as a stimulus for guided contemplation. I think you will agree with me that as you repeat the petitions slowly, one by one, they are astonishingly appropriate. Not only the prayers for the coming of God’s kingdom and the doing of his will but also for deliverance from evil and resistance to temptation in times of trial, not to mention the almost impossible but totally necessary imperative of seeking forgiveness from God and offering it to each other. I commend it to you.

There are many psalms that are highly realistic in the face of atrocity and in a very honest way bring our indignation and pain to God. Two that particularly occur to me at the time of speaking are psalm 46 ‘God is our refuge and strength … be still and know that I am God’ and also psalm 139 in its entirety which wisely acknowledges the sanctity of our human life under God, the outrage at those who do evil things, and the ambiguity of our own condition.

Ancient prayers such as these can be used sentence by sentence and we can let our minds wander in and out of the meaning. It seems to be all there, somehow, and in it, I find the beginnings of understanding.

May God have mercy on us all.

And now to happier and more local things.

It is my great pleasure to welcome you all to this Diocesan Synod. I welcome the many visitors and especially my good friend Canon Mark Diamond who is representing Bishop Thomas Finnegan and will address us later. I also particularly welcome our new clergy – Rev’d Maria Jansson and Rev’d Richard Dadswell. We are really thankful and pleased to have you among us.

On the ecumenical front that is so well established in this area, I am very pleased to announce that Bishop Finnegan and I have agreed to joint usage of Holy Trinity Church, Inis Bigil. When the remaining details are worked out, we shall make a joint announcement to this effect.

As you know, my hope has been that a Synod ‘Weekend’ will attract larger numbers of people and draw our loyal but scattered flock to a greater sense of belonging and fellowship – as well as bridge some gaps between the decision-makers of the Diocese and the rest of us! After this Synod, and a fine meal I am sure, I hope that many of you will be able to get to Collooney for the Hymn Festival.

I am delighted to report that Tom Figgis has agreed to return as Chancellor for another year. Like most good people, he does not like to be over-thanked or praised, but I want to say how glad and happy I am with this.

One of the many areas that I fear I have neglected has been the encouragement and nurture of our Diocesan Readers and Parish Readers. I want them to know how deeply they are appreciated. It is hard enough, especially as a lay person and within a small community, to stand out and take or assist with church services. I am happy to report that I have appointed Dean Alistair Grimason as Warden of Readers, and he is currently arranging meetings and fellowship and training days.

The Finance Act 2001, Section 45 makes really significant (and long overdue) provision for tax relief benefit to eligible charities, and this will hugely benefit our hard pressed parish funds. It will be for individual treasurers to manage, but advice and training will be provided in regional meetings shortly to be announced from Church House. Simply stated, every £200 traditionally given to a parish can be, after taxation relief, worth up to £345 if a parish/parishioner avails of this new scheme of relief. Treasurers take note!

Today we have much business to attend to, and perhaps not as much time as usual, so I close these remarks by thanking you all, hard working clergy and laity for all that you do and give in this United Diocese. A special thank you to Dean Ardis for the worship this morning, to Rev’d Aean Ferguson organising so much of this weekend, and to Heather Sherlock for the mountains of work she has uncomplainingly prepared for this Synod. May God bless you all, and us together.