Religions Are Crucial to Attaining Peace
|
||
Dedicating one's life to the cause of peace is a commitment not to be taken lightly. It calls for courage, for knowing how to suffer. In today's world, scenes of terrorism and violence show no sign of abating. Ongoing armed conflicts in various regions, known or forgotten by public opinion, give the impression that not only cultural diversity but also religious differences are causes of instability to the prospect of peace. The danger of a clash between cultures and religions is incumbent on our horizon. The appalling scenes of conflict, however, should not distract our attention from discerning signs of hope, characteristic of our era of globalization. Numerous are the initiatives of people and institutions aiming at building common foundations for harmonious coexistence. Interfaith and intercultural dialogues are emerging as important roads to this end. The peace to which we are committed is not merely the silence of arms. It cannot be attained only from the outside with structures. The attempt to restore it with violence leads to new violence and creates fear among populations. It must be approached from a global and far-sighted perspective. Pope Benedict XVI, in his message on the occasion of the twentieth anniversary of the Interreligious Meeting of Prayer for Peace in Assisi, affirms: "To build it, the paths of cultural, political, and economic order are, of course, important, but first of all peace must be built in hearts. It is here, in fact, that sentiments develop that can nurture it or, on the contrary, threaten, weaken, and stifle it." What is needed to nourish peace, then, is the conversion of the heart. The motto that President Nichiko Niwano launched among the members of Rissho Kosei-kai, "Cultivating the field of the heart and mind," could be grasped, I think, in this context. Peace cannot exist if hatred and selfishness are not overcome from within. To meet this fundamental challenge, the role of religions is crucial. Religions should draw, out of their depths, all the spiritual strength so as to lead humanity toward solidarity and peace. By whom, if not by leaders within the great religious traditions, could a strategy be initiated that is capable of renewing relationships not only on an individual level, but also between people of different races, nations, and cultures? But there can be no peace without treating each other as brothers and sisters. This vision of fraternity is not a new idea that has emerged today. It has been often present in the minds of great spiritual figures of the world. Mahatma Gandhi was a great advocate of "one humanity in one world." He wrote: "Through the realization of the freedom of India, I hope to realize and carry on the mission of the brotherhood of man." Martin Luther King Jr., in his "I Have a Dream" speech, cried out his hope that one day "the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave-owners will be able to sit down together at a table of brotherhood." And the Dalai Lama says that we need "to achieve a true sense of brotherhood, a good heart, respect for others. If we can develop these qualities from within our heart, then . . . we can actually achieve true peace." Rev. Nikkyo Niwano was deeply convinced that all religions should work together hand-in-hand for peace and spared no effort to create the "world of the One Vehicle" according to the Buddhist concept taken from the Lotus Sutra. The Focolare Movement is committed to building the unity of the human family, enriched by diversity. Chiara Lubich, its founder, reminds us that Jesus brought this truth as an essential gift to humanity. Before he died, he prayed for unity, which was his testament: "Father, may they all be one" (Jn 17:21). He revealed to us that God is our Father and, consequently, that we are all brothers and sisters. But what is the bond of fraternity? We need to remember that there is something stronger than death and violence. There is a potential that is waiting to be reawakened. It is a love that abides deep in the heart of everyone. For Christians, this love can be a participation in the very love that is the life of God. For those who follow other religions, this love is often called benevolence or compassion. For people who do not have a religious faith, love can mean philanthropy, solidarity, nonviolence. It is an art that is sorely needed in our modern time. The Focolare Movement has sixty years of experience practicing it. Chiara Lubich summed up the "art of loving" in four points, which can be fully shared with followers of different religions. First of all, it requires that we love everyone, making no distinction between people who are pleasant or unpleasant, attractive or unattractive, European or Asian, Christian or Muslim. Love knows no form of discrimination. For a Christian, moreover, everyone must be loved because it is Christ whom we love in each person. He himself will one day say to us: "You did it to me" (Mt 25:40). And what should we say of the boundless compassion for every living being taught by the Buddha to his first disciples: "O Monks, you should work for the well-being of many, for the happiness of many, moved by compassion for the world, for the well-being . . . of humanity" (Mahavagga, 19). This love has another characteristic that is affirmed in the sacred books of world religions. It is the Golden Rule. Christians have it in this way: "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you" (Mt 7:12), and Buddhists teach: "Hurt not others in ways that you yourself would find hurtful" (Udanavarga, 5.1). If this point alone were practiced, it would be enough to make the whole world one family. Just think what the world would be like if not only individuals, but also ethnic groups and nation-states were to practice it--for example, "Love the other country as your own." The third step in the art of loving is perhaps the most demanding of all. It tests the authenticity and purity of love, and, therefore, its real capacity to generate peace. It is to be first in loving, that is, not waiting for the other person to take the first step, to take the initiative. There is one last point that teaches us how to put into practice true love toward others. It consists of making ourselves one with others, which is emptying ourselves. It means making their worries, their thoughts, their joys, our own. All this is not just kindness and understanding; it is not just a method to promote interpersonal relationships, or a strategy for consensus building or for selling one's agenda. Love has only one goal: to give of itself completely and selflessly. When two or more people are ready to make the first move toward the other, then, love becomes mutual. It will be our strength because even when we are far from one an-other, we will be certain to be united. And what we accomplish will be not so much the result of individual efforts as the expression of a bond that will be a source of light for us even at a distance, helping us to understand what we need to do and giving us new strength to fulfill it. Only our mutual love will be able to unleash this wisdom and the power needed to change the world and win the battle for peace. This is because unity is not the sum of a number of people, nor is it just solidarity, collaboration, and dialogue. No, to build unity means to come together, in mutual love, and to allow the presence of Someone who transcends us to shine forth. In the Christian liturgy we sing: "Where there is charity and love, there God abides." The Gospel announces that if two or more are united in genuine love, Christ himself, who is Peace, is present among them and therefore in each one of them (cf. Mt 18:20). In the history of the Focolare Movement, maintaining this presence has become the apex of its spirituality and life. Pope John Paul II, meeting non-Christian representatives in Madras, India, in 1986, said that when we open ourselves in dialogue to one another, that is, when our dialogue is substantiated by kindness, mutual esteem and respect, we also open ourselves up to God. And "we let God be present in our midst." A great Japanese Buddhist personality, now deceased, Ven. Etai Yamada, loved to say to us: "If we are one in heart, then God is with us and guides us in doing his will." This is a new presence of God that encourages tolerance, understanding, and forgiveness. It penetrates into the hearts of everyone and enkindles those flames of love that join men and women in communion. Mutual love and unity thus give great joy to those who practice it. However, it calls for commitment, daily training, and sacrifice. And this is where a particular word in the language of Christians appears striking and luminous. It is one that the world wants to avoid, a word it considers foolish and useless. This word is "Cross." Nothing good and fruitful can be achieved without facing weariness and suffering. Dedicating one's life to the cause of peace is a commitment not to be taken lightly. It calls for courage, for knowing how to suffer. In this regard, there is an important aspect to keep in mind if we want to be instruments of peace, and that is self-examination. We should constantly, every moment, check our attitude toward others and see if everything has been done out of love. If not, we should have the courage to start over and over again, and ask forgiveness when necessary. An experience at the beginning of the Focolare Movement can still be useful for us in order to help us keep reciprocal love alive. It was not easy for the first group of young women to always follow this new style of life in a radical way. They were ordinary people just like others. Dust could settle on their relationship and weaken their unity. This happened when one saw the shortcomings and imperfections of others, cooling down the current of mutual love. In order to react to this situation, Chiara Lubich and her companions made a "pact of mercy." They decided to get up in the morning and approach each person--in the family, at school, at work--with completely new eyes, without remembering any faults of the past, as though he or she had never made any mistakes, but covering everything with love: to approach each person with full "amnesty" in their hearts. Later she commented that without this pact of daily forgiveness, the movement would not have even come out of the city of Trent, from where it started and then spread all over the world. The commitment to love opens the way to forgiveness and reconciliation. In the course of history, differing convictions have caused violent clashes, social and political conflicts, and even religious wars. Where the Catholic Church herself is concerned, she asked for forgiveness insofar as serious mistakes were made in the past by some of her members and by her institutions. We remember Pope John Paul II offering an apology for the sins committed in the name of the church through the ages. He declared at a Mass in Saint Peter's Basilica on March 12, 2000: "In this year of mercy, the Church . . . should kneel before God and implore forgiveness for the past and present sins of her sons and daughters. . . . Let us forgive and ask forgiveness!" Asking for forgiveness and granting forgiveness are indispensable elements for peace. In this way, our memory is purified and our hearts are made serene. In order to establish bonds of fraternity the tensions of the past must be purified promoting reconciliation at all levels, individual as well as collective. In the words of Chiara Lubich, "the world needs an invasion of love and this depends on each one of us. The human being is the reservoir of this precious element." In the end, love will win.
This article was originally published in the April-June 2007 issue of Dharma World. |
||
Copyright (C) 1997-2012 by Kosei Publishing Co. All rights reserved. |