GORDON LINNEY
These are challenging times. We live in a world that seems increasingly divided and torn apart by angry women and men motivated by hate who resort to barbarous acts of brutality and indiscriminate violence as seen in Belgium, Pakistan and elsewhere in recent months. It is particularly disturbing to be told that these terrible things are done in the name of religion, a recurring problem throughout history.
In his book The Dignity of Difference Jonathan Sacks, former chief rabbi in England, acknowledges that while religion can be a source of discord, it should also be a form of conflict resolution. "The great faiths must now become an active force for peace and for the justice and compassion on which peace ultimately depends. That will require great courage, and perhaps something more than courage: a candid admission that, more than at any time in the past, we need to search – each faith in its own way – for a way of living with, and acknowledging the integrity of those who do not share our faith. Can we make space for difference? Can we hear the voice of God in a language, a sensibility, a culture not of our own? Can we see the presence of God in the face of a stranger?"
The words of St Patrick’s breastplate underline this last point: “Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.”
A good place to start is to realise that while it is important to affirm one’s belief in God, it is equally important to acknowledge God’s belief in humanity. St John’s Gospel tells us that “God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved.” If we examine the teaching and ministry of Jesus it is clear that he was championing a new world order – a new kingdom – not a new religion in the narrow exclusive sense that some maintain.
The early Christians had difficulties coming to terms with that idea, that the gospel was for all humankind. We see this in tomorrow’s reading from Acts where Peter is on a steep learning curve: “I was in the city of Joppa praying, and in a trance I saw a vision. There was something like a large sheet coming down from heaven . . . and it came close to me.” In this vision Peter sees a large sheet with an array of animals and birds which for the Jew were “unclean” and not to be eaten. He is instructed to kill and eat but refuses insisting that nothing profane or unclean had ever entered his mouth. He is told: “What God has made clean, you must not call profane.”
The sheet represents the diversity of humanity; Peter’s instinct was to keep himself apart; for him the Gentiles were inferior. This sense of superiority is an ever present source of social division, racism and religious sectarianism to this day, some of it expressed very discretely but no less dangerous.
If we accept that the mission of Jesus was to inaugurate a new world order – the kingdom of God – it makes sense that he would establish a core group – the church – to advance that cause. The church is not the kingdom; it is called to be a community that lives by the rules of the kingdom. Tomorrow’s gospel reading indicates that the church’s role should be to commend the principle by this lived example: “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” Christians are expected to show to the world that God’s kingdom of love makes sense. That is not sloppy sentiment – it is costly commitment with real rewards. Where love rules there you will find justice; where love rules there you will find compassion, where love rules there you will find harmony. The reward is peace – shalom.
“The soul of peace is love, which for us believers comes from the love of God and expresses itself in love for humankind.” (Pope Paul VI)