Justice and Peace

I am delighted to be the preacher at the start of your Conference on the theme of 'American Unilateralism: Leadership or Domination'. I wish you a great Conference, but don't be too hard on your great country. To it has been entrusted many great responsibilities and to it has been given many great qualities of leadership, scientific and technological achievement and moral stature. There is too much 'America bashing' going on!

No one can deny the power of the right words spoken at the right time and in the right place. Such is the power of the words that I have chosen as my text from Micah 6:8: 'He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you, but to do justice, and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.'

A Roman Catholic friend of mine recounted some years ago that, when he was a student in a South American country in the late Sixties, a priest colleague had been arrested for protesting with students against the dictatorship then in power. The priest was released after a severe beating. The following morning he celebrated Mass and - instead of a sermon - he read a succession of passages from the prophets, culminating in this wonderful passage: 'What does God require of you, but to do justice, to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.' He was immediately re-arrested for sedition! Such was the enduring power of these words written more than two and a half thousand years earlier.

We gather today as brothers and sisters from different faith traditions to share common values and to assist one another in our common mission to establish a world of peace and to seek justice, and mercy and to walk with God. We look at our broken and flawed world and consider the deepening problems of Iraq, the seemingly hopeless situation in what we call the Holy Land, as well as the continent of Africa riddled with poverty, conflict and the crisis known to us as HIV/AIDS.

But in what way might a timeless reading like that from Micah speak to us here and now?

Although Micah the prophet was speaking to a society very different from ours, we can all identify with its great message of justice, mercy, and humble obedience. Indeed, Micah's great words have inspired and shaped so many people and nations. In England, Thomas Huxley, the great 19th century scientist, said they expressed the 'perfect idea of religion'; in America, they are inscribed in the Library of Congress; and in Rome, they were set to music by the 16th century composer Palestrina.

Part of these words' continuing power, it seems to me, lies in the strength of the verbs: we are told what to do, what to love, and how to walk. That is, they direct our actions, our affections, and our attitudes.

First, what to do. We must do justice. Micah was mostly concerned about the oppression of the poor by the rich. He rebuked the powerful for their mistreatment of others and told the religious who came to worship piled high with sacrifices that their sins mocked the Covenant God of Sinai. Justice, we see, is a practical virtue. It is not merely something we admire from afar in legal theory; it must be demonstrated in action; in the way we behave, in the way we live, in the space we give to strangers as well as to our friends. And justice must precede peace. The great Augustine said long ago: 'Without justice, what are kingdoms but bands of robbers'.

I think of Israel and Palestine, places that my wife and I know well. Nevertheless, however many times we have been there and notwithstanding so many Jewish, Muslim and Christian friends, one cannot state with any precision what justice might mean to this beloved land with all its problems. But whether there or Iraq or elsewhere I know this much, that it involves entering another person's world of pain and fear, and understanding it as much as you yourself would like to be understood. We as Christians or as Jews or Muslims or whatever our creed, can only put ourselves – ourselves, I say – under the power of Micah's words and ask: 'How may we seek justice for everyone?' Bombings, shootings, killings and all such violence serve only to extend and deepen conflict. Striving together to do justice – the justice that brings peace and reconciliation – is a harder way, but the better way. At such times we must look for models, and it seems to me that we all have one in the towering figure of Nelson Mandela. He could so easily have returned from Robben Island, after twenty seven years in captivity with grudges and scores to settle, and terrible violence would have been the probable result. Instead, he forsook vengeance, and reconciled his country from the injustices of its past. The result is a land where different communities are travelling together on the same road, certainly not without difficulty, but equally certainly not without hope.

But as I am addressing faith leaders I am bold to ask a particular question which arises from our common task to lead the people we believe God has given to us. It is: 'What is the task of leadership in communities when people on both sides are convinced they are right and where room for manoeuvre seems so small?

Our response, surely, is that even when we find ourselves passionately committed to one side of the dispute, we must always side with justice, love and peace. We are mandated to find solutions which enable different peoples to live together in harmony; we are mandated to encourage political leaders to seek the pathway of dialogue; and we are mandated to challenge the often-assumed position that concessions and compromises are signs of political weakness.

So we are commanded first to do justice. And then we are told, secondly, to love mercy. I am well aware that it may be that the prophet was talking about 'devotion' or 'kindness' but I believe he was also trying to show that love – like justice – has a practical purpose. It results in action and, possibly, mercy is as close to the meaning as we can get in English. When we love mercy we find a place for the poor, the victimised, the child in distress and those marginalised in all our societies. Mercy implies that the strong have a particular obligation to the weak; and the powerful have a particular responsibility for the powerless. After all, mercy has its fullest meaning when someone is helpless and vulnerable.

How might that apply to these times so terribly disfigured by acts of hatred and images of bloodshed? It is important to remember that we are all told to 'love mercy.' There will always be times when our enemies come within striking distance and are helpless. At that very point, the Scriptures command us to love, and to love with compassion and mercy. To love with forgiveness and not to hate. To love when it is difficult to find reasons to love. And that is why on the one hand we can acknowledge the legitimate cause of a powerful partner, and yet urge caution in how that power is exercised. Such is the tough and wonderful way of the Covenant God whose love is defined for Christians in Jesus Christ.

So we are told first to love justice, second to love mercy, and third and finally to walk humbly with your God. There is in Micah's words a call to walk together, to share a journey in sweet fellowship with our God.

Might it not be possible, one day, for Jewish believers, Muslim believers and Christian believers – in spite of deeply held differences – to walk humbly together in mutual tolerance and deeper respect towards a Jerusalem both full of peace and holy to all. We often talk about the Judeao- Christian ethic and that is right to do so. Every Christian is, in a sense, three quarter Jew. But I have begun to learn during my time as Archbishop of Canterbury that we share so much with Muslims as well. Is it not time talked about an 'Abrahamic ethic'? That is to say, moral guide lines we may all identify with.

And how does all that I have said relate to the theme of American Unilateralism? We will certainly have different views as to whether or not American and Britain should have invaded Iraq. For myself, I think on balance the answer is 'yes'. How many more years would the world have waited for such an evil tyrant to go? Nonetheless, to a large degree, that question is now an academic one. We must get on now with the urgent task of rebuilding the ancient land of Iraq. As for the future, it may well be the case that, as the only superpower remaining, America will have no choice on occasions but to act swiftly and unilaterally when the occasion demands it. We trust that she will also act jointly with others and use the resources of the UN in a constructive partnership.

What is very clear is that she must act responsibility and morally. Entrusted as she is with awesome military power she must also bring to her tasks moral persuasion and the ethic of Micah- justice, mercy and that humble walk with Almighty God.

Let me close with a story:

A Rabbi asked his disciples to define that moment we call dawn when the morning prayers may be said.

One disciple said very reasonably: 'It is dawn when you can tell a horse from a donkey.' Another said: 'Ah, yes, but that is not good enough- it is dawn when you can tell an olive tree from a fig tree.' And the rest all offered their best guesses.

At last the Rabbi said: 'You are all correct. But for the dawn that really matters it will be sunrise when you can look a stranger in the face and see your sister or your brother.'