St. Stephen’s College Convocation Oct. 22, 2001
Published in the Edmonton Journal Oct. 24, 2001

We are gathered tonight to honour and to celebrate the enormous contributions of our assembled graduands. For years they have been toiling away, becoming more expert in their field, and sometimes even wondering “why am I doing this?” Who would have thought when you began, that 20 airplane hijackers would help to provide you with an answer.

Many of us have said that the world changed on September 11th, 2001. What we mean is that our world has changed – our safe, innocent, indifferent, northern world has changed. And another thing has changed. We have been forced to confront the world the way it is, not the way we wish it was.

We have discovered that people hate us, passionately. They hate us with such a fervour they are willing to sacrifice their own lives for the cause. Did I say we? Well yes, the World Trade Centre was populated by people from all over the world. Our little conceit, that we’re Canadians not Americans, was revealed to be a sham. We, all of us here assembled, are objects of hatred.

We have also discovered that the world is dominated by revenge. War has been declared on terrorism. “We will retaliate!” say our leaders, apparently oblivious to the motives of the suicide bombers who thought of themselves as exacting revenge for earlier crimes.

Ten years ago I dressed in black. Having grown up in admiration for Pearson’s UN peace-keeping vision and having aided and abetted draft dodgers I never thought my country would declare war in my lifetime. Ten years ago we declared war on Iraq. I dressed in black, in mourning for the terrified, teenaged Iraqi soldiers bombed while retreating. Now, our troops are sent to Asia once more, this time without benefit of a declaration of war for against whom would we issue our declaration? The women & children left behind by the last war or the Afghani troops equipped by our last attempt to sort things out?

This time, I’m dressed in red – the colour of revenge, the colour we are helping to paint the world. Red is the colour of my medieval gown. I have lost count of the number of petitions I received over the last two years protesting the forced imposition of medieval dress on women in Afghanistan. I protest this too. I protest the lack of freedom in it. Two and half years ago I was teaching in India. Everything about it was jarring and unfamiliar – the sights, the sounds, the smells, the languages. But of all the things that were different, the most difficult sight was the sight of a woman wearing a black cloth over her whole body so thick you couldn’t see her eyes. Sometimes she was riding on the back of a motor scooter but that just added to the dissonance. This sight was not only jarring, it was offensive. It offended against my sense of freedom, my sense of dignity, my sense of a woman’s rightful place in the world. I never asked her if she was offended. I didn’t need to, I was offended on her behalf. Now I wonder, well, which one of us was the more concealed. Her with her black cloth or me with my indignation? The terrorists have come to us dressed in revenge. We condemn their blind and blinding rage. Will we not ask what we have done to provoke such a blood thirsty reaction before we set out to repeat it? Which one of us is actually wearing a veil?

The world is dominated by revenge and we are a theological school. What does this mean? This week our Board will meet to consider a new Mission Statement for the Amalgamated Colleges of St. Stephen’s and St. Andrew’s. What is our mission? Is it a mission of revenge and retaliation or a mission of love and forgiveness? Is it a mission of world power and domination or a mission of peace, healing and reconciliation? It is a mission of the latter, not the former. Many of us know it and the rest of us need reminding.

In January of 1999, a Christian missionary was killed in India. A medical missionary from Australia, Graham Staines had worked in India for decades. Bringing his sons home from school on holiday, he arrived late at his village so he slept with his sons in his jeep. Some militant Hindus hated his work of conversion and the power of his medical background. They found him sleeping in his jeep, covered it in kerosene and burnt the three of them alive. At the funeral for her husband and two sons, Graham Staines widow said these words: “I forgive them”. These three simple, powerful, unforgettable words, these words of Jesus, made headlines across India.

For the last weeks our newspapers and televisions have been filled with Presidents & Prime Ministers blessing Battleships and Fighter aircraft. Significantly, our Church leaders have not been with them. Instead, our Church leaders have been persistently calling for a different vision and understanding. They have been asking for a different set of values to be engaged. Consider these 6 criteria identified by the leaders of the Baptist Convention of Ontario & Quebec, the Presbyterian Church in Canada, the United Church of Canada, the Anglican Church of Canada and the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Canada. They have called for:

1. the bringing of the terrorists to justice;
2. the observing of the due process of law;
3. the defining of limits to the use of force;
4. an addressing of the deeper causes of the conflict;
5. an acknowledgement of our interdependence; and
6. a recovery of a peace and justice perspective.

This is not nearly sexy enough for the evening news but its very significant. We condemn the terror but we choose not to repeat it. We resist the evil that lives in the heart of revenge and, we speak the daring language of redemption. Is it even within our imagination to use Jesus’ three simple words of forgiveness?

For all of us at St. Stephen’s & St. Andrew’s, for faculty and staff, students and graduates, theological education is a public act. There is no room, no house, no speaker ‘phone, no internet connection, no public square where theological reflection, debate and education cannot happen. But it is not without its dangers. Jesus has created for us a dangerous memory which disturbs and irritates the status quo of our world as well as our conscience. We do not expect to be welcomed or thanked just because we showed up. Our Scripture (Mt. 11: 16-19) recalls Jesus saying,
“This generation is like children sitting in the market place and calling to one another:
We played the flute for you and you did not dance,
We wailed and you did not mourn.”

John the Baptist came wailing but the people did not heed him, they did not mourn. Instead they said he must have been possessed by a demon. Jesus came eating and drinking, the opposite behaviours from John, and they did not dance. Instead, they said he was a glutton and a sinner. The children call to one another in a public square but they don’t always want to join in the game.

For a generation we have lived in a society that increasingly thought of organized religion as irrelevant to social life if they thought of it at all. After Sept. 11th, we discover a world in a mighty struggle between the forces of good and evil. After Sept. 11th, every person here who has prayed publicly with or for our Muslim sisters and brothers has engaged in an act of witness to the power of love to overcome hate, the power of friendship to encircle alienation.

Our graduates have walked to the beat of a different drummer. They have witnessed to an alternative set of values. They have discerned and embraced a spiritual path. They have unfolded and advanced theological study. They have become learned in the worship arts. They have defined their expertise in ministry and they have even mastered pastoral counseling. In doing so they have joined the ranks of spiritual leaders for generations who take time for retreat, renewal and reflection in order re-enter the struggle for peace, justice and reconciliation. Congratulations on a job well done. Now lets get on with things because the world needs your leadership!