Address delivered by Dr Tom
Frame
Anglican Bishop to the
during the
Thursday 24 October 2002
There are few things that make us question the meaning and value of life more than death. We acknowledge with sadness the death of someone who has lived long and productively, and there is cause for thanksgiving. We commemorate the deaths of those lost in wars when we believe they died in pursuit of a principle, and there is reason to honour their sacrifice. But we find it difficult if not impossible to accept death when it comes to the young and vital, and particularly from some other source than disease or misadventure.
Today, we sit with the surviving victims and their families and friends. We do not know … because we cannot know … what the victims are feeling or how this one event will change forever the course of their lives. The terrible physical injuries suffered by so many victims are just one of the wounds that has been inflicted upon them. The physical wounds might be healed but the emotional and physical scars will remain and cause pain. The families and friends of those who have died face a different future. They have that gaping void in their lives created by the sudden absence of someone who enriched their lives and gave them meaning. Let us be frank about what has happened. The deaths of so many people last weekend were brutal murder committed by cold-blooded killers. It served no useful purpose: it was, and is, without redemption. They did not die in the service of others or in the extension of a great cause. Their dying has devastated their families and diminished the world in which they lived. Human life, potential, hopes and dreams were wasted. Those who have lost someone should not be restrained in their mourning. They must be allowed to weep because they have properly grasped the magnitude of the moment and theirs are tears of truth and understanding. There is a time to mourn, to grieve … and it is now … and it must involve us all.
And as we mark United Nations day and recall that the UN was established in the wake of World War II, we also recognise that political violence is not new to human society – in fact, it casts a long shadow over human civilisation. We do not yet know why the Sari Club was bombed, and what those who planted the bomb believed it would achieve for their cause. And even when we do know, why might not be able to understand why innocent people were murdered without respect for life, heed to justice or cognisance of pain. It all seems so foreign to us because political violence is not something that we, as Australians, face in the ordinary course of our lives. Our heritage of parliamentary democracy and the rule of law, and a continuing commitment to personal freedom and political liberty … stand against violence, coercion and intimidation in public life. Because we are an island nation, separated from the rest of the world by vast bodies of water – in our national anthem we celebrate that our ‘home is girt by sea’ - we are usually able to protect our institutions and preserve our culture with minimal interference.
But there are times when we are reminded that we participate in a world where the virtues that guide and govern our common life are not shared by all … or even held to be self-evident. Although we are the final destination for most international flights, we are not at the end of the world nor immune from the tensions and troubles that beset other societies. Because we are a trading nation and our citizens are able to travel all over the world for business and pleasure, our concerns are international and our interests are global. So while we enjoy the benefits of these activities beyond our shores, we inevitably assume a share in the world’s challenges and even some complicity in its problems, including the scourge of political violence. The root causes of violence are varied and profound. If there is a pervasive cause, I would nominate poverty because poverty breeds instability, instability breeds fanaticism, fanaticism breeds hatred, and hatred breeds terrorism. But let me ask with a heavy heart: hasn’t there been at least one occasion when we individually or collectively, consciously or otherwise, overlooked injustice, neglected the poor or given priority to our own security? Have we been completely blameless and been entirely without guilt? I would say: we are not. So let us be humble and contrite, even as we rightly and strongly condemn those who have done this evil thing in Bali.
But there are two things we can do as a nation in the shadow of this event. The first is to maintain and strengthen our democratic institutions and remain committed to playing a productive role in international affairs. I believe the philosopher Immanuel Kant was right when he identified a clear link between the domestic constitution of states and international order. Kant believed that the most peaceful kind of world is one based on a confederation of democratic states because democracies are less inclined to do bad things than authoritarian or despotic regimes. Violence does not determine who is right or wrong – just who will be left. And second, while our initial and natural response to the Bali bombing might be to withdraw from a world we don’t like, this is not the answer nor a viable strategy. We can contribute positively to the alleviation of poverty, the enhancement of security and the promotion of stability – and we ought to do so. It is by engagement rather than disengagement that we will fashion a world in which political violence of the kind we witnessed in Bali has no philosophical appeal, no practical advantage and no political utility.
And finally, let me say something about the consequences of last weekend’s events for all of humanity. Each and every generation that has known and endured politically sponsored violence has expressed a commitment to avoid its repetition … not just in their lifetimes … but for all time. And each generation that inherits responsibility for a world it did not create and problems it did not cause … finds that despite the best efforts of their forebears, individuals and organisation seem to have within them a tendency towards violence. But evil is never the final word. The crucifixion of Christ was meant to proclaim the success of political violence and be a sign of defeat for the Kingdom of God and the Holy Spirit proclaimed by Jesus. And yet, the cross was an announcement of love and it became a symbol of victory. And even as he died, Jesus prayed for those who were inflicting death upon him and asked that God would forgive them.
Violence has its origins in the human heart. It is born of many things: pride, vanity, selfishness, greed – those things that assert the primacy and priority of the individual. But when individuals place themselves at the centre of the universe rather than others or God, their respective worlds invariably collide and people are hurt. If me and my interests are paramount, and you, in turn, think and act likewise, we are going to compete and conflict with one another. I might even begin to imagine that my interests are so pressing that I am justified in resorting to violence, and perhaps even to taking away your life, if you get between me and those things for which I am striving. And so, greed culminates in murder as the second Scripture reading made plain. There must be another centre for human living because human self-centredness is fatal and the loss of an opportunity for wisdom and insight as the first reading made clear. No, the centre … the true centre … must be God. So let us not, today, mourn one death – the death of self-will - but decide by an act of defeated self-will to centre ourselves on God in whom we live and move and have our being.
In the wake of the September 11th terrorist attacks and now the Bali bombing, we have begun to focus on what matters to us individually and collectively. … and what matters ultimately. Our world and whatever civilization we have achieved is fragile and easily threatened. We are realizing with new clarity that the primary engagement for individuals and nations is not with political crises, economic problems or social upheavals: it is with God. There is no avoiding the “God question” for Christians, Muslims, Jews and for Agnostics. The character of the God or gods we worship will inevitably determine the things for which we strive, and guide how we believe we ought to live. The leaders of Australia’s major faith communities gathered here today are united in their complete rejection of violence as an expression or the fulfillment of their religious convictions and beliefs, and resolute in their belief that we must together negotiate the road to peace and harmony. The recent atrocity in Bali will forever be a reminder that we cannot travel this road alone … as individuals, religions or as nations.
We
sincerely thank Bishop Frame for his kind permission
© 2002 - T.Frame
Australians
International
