Who or what has most shaped your understanding of reconciliation?
I was a child during the 1970s, and the ‘Troubles’ in Northern Ireland were part of the background of my life. I remember the horrified reactions of my parents to Bloody Sunday, the assassination of Lord Mountbatten, the Harrods bombing and the Brighton bombing – a catalogue of carnage. I remember when the rubbish bins were removed from train stations because they could hold bombs, and how everyone thought twice before going to London for fear of terrorist attacks.
And in the midst of all this, the sign of hope for a peaceful future that was Corrymeela. The hard work of listening, dialoguing, understanding and reconciling that went on there as the light of that community shone into the darkness of bullet-strewn streets and random cruelty.
I encountered this again when I worked with the British Army as a civilian chaplain. The military chaplain had served as a soldier in Northern Ireland in the 1980s – had seen his comrades shot in cold blood and entered buildings in the aftermath of a bombing attack. He had become a Christian and his heartbeat was reconciliation and forgiveness. I travelled with him and a UN Peacekeeping force to Kosovo in 2000 and saw the mighty work which was being undertaken there to move on from the bitterness which stems from violence.
I love the imagination and creativity that appointed the poet and theologian Padraig O Tuama to head up Corrymeela in 2014. The words he brings weave golden threads into the dark tapestry of conflict and hatred. They do not cover up the darkness, but shine brightly into it, acknowledging its existence but not allowing it to overshadow the glow of forgiveness, grace and hope for a future which will contain fewer dark threads. His time in charge at Corrymeela has ended, but the richness he brings to the art and craft of reconciliation continues – as much in his poetry as in his other work.
One of my favourite quotes is from the 13th century Persian poet, Rumi: ‘Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field; I’ll meet you there’. Corrymeela is built on that field and I would like to journey with my communities to that same field, to have honest conversations there about privilege and vulnerability, inequality and implicit prejudice. I would like to celebrate our journey onwards to a new place of inclusiveness and acceptance, forgiveness and understanding. I feel that Journey of Hope will have an instrumental role to play in this.
3 comments
Sally, I’m moved by how your understanding of and commitment to reconciliation have its origins in violence. And that you point to a subversive community in the midst of the pain that dared (& still does) to offer space a the table for those who are seeking repair. May we, together, continue to become those who set tables of repair in the midst of the world’s divides.
How appropriate that my intended project in my local church community centres around a field! It used to hold one of the two church halls (the land from the other has been sold for housing) and will be becoming our garden. It is hoped that it will be a community space where we can sit around a fire pit and talk about anything and everything – and that’s where my chosen conflict to resolve will be given a home, if all goes to plan. In time, perhaps we can adopt Rumi’s field as a part of ours.
Sally thank you for sharing this. I am grateful to read a little more of your story. The quote my Rumi, conjures up an incredible picture, oh to venture more often to the field!!