We just got back from a 12-day
trip to Ireland. What a wonderful country with such a difficult past history.
The Irish refer to the recent past (1960s-1980s) as “the troubles.” Most of us
remember portions of that as well. The bombings. The police/Army battles with
crowds. The Irish Republican Army (IRA) and the Ulster Defense League (UDF)
fighting each other and fighting London. It was a confusing bloody time.
This got me thinking on the
flight back home about the significant difference between religion’s focus on
exclusivity and spirituality’s focus on inclusivity. I know with my head that
this is an oversimplification, but I experienced this viscerally while touring
Northern Ireland last week.
Ireland’s 32 counties today are
split between the Republic of Ireland (the southern 26, and mostly Catholic
counties) and Northern Ireland (the northeastern 6 counties, mostly Protestant,
and a part of the United Kingdom, which includes England and Scotland. This
split was begun following the civil war (1916-1922) when Ireland was granted
partial independence from Britain and was known as the Irish Free State. Ireland remained a dominion of the British
Commonwealth. In 1948 the Irish Free State formally left the British Commonwealth
and adopted their official name of The Republic of Ireland. The country’s
constitution, however, included a claim on Northern Ireland’s six counties as a
part of its national territory. In 1998, as part of the Good Friday Agreement,
brokered in part by President Clinton, the Irish constitution was altered by
referendum to remove the territorial claim to Northern Ireland and instead
extend the right of Irish citizenship to all the people of the island should
they wish to have it.
As we toured the 26 counties of
the Republic of Ireland, I got a recognizable sense of inclusivity. We saw town
after town where it was pointed out to us that there was a Church of Ireland
(Catholic) built there recently – the first since the mid-1600s when Oliver
Cromwell destroyed all things Catholic – with joint contributions from both the
Catholic and Protestant communities. Police stations were small and
indiscriminate. Individual police personnel were unarmed. Police cars were
brightly colored – quite cute, actually.
After 8 days of touring we
entered Northern Ireland in the Province of Ulster and dominated by the city of
Belfast. As we drove in the area, especially Belfast, the police cars were modified
Range Rovers that looked like small armored tanks. Police stations were
surrounded by 10-12 foot high stone/brick fences topped with broken glass and
razor wire. Police personnel were heavily armed – mace, tear gas, and hand
weapons.
Within Belfast, itself, there is
still one portion of Belfast where Catholics and Protestants live in very close
proximity. These Catholic and Protestant neighborhoods are separated by a
menacing fence – brick and stone with razor wire – from 12-20 feet high.
Streets between the neighborhoods are installed with gates that are closed and
locked at night and opened in the morning. The whole area is collectively known
by the extensive, and mostly political, murals that adorn buildings and walls
there. In fact, it has become a tourist attraction of sorts. However, I found the
differences between the Catholic and Protestant neighborhoods quite distinct
and significant.
The Catholic neighborhood is
rather non-descript neighborhood. It is clearly a lower/lower middle class
area. The murals, although political, express the past in a historic kind of
way. Murals were painted of the critical leaders of the early 1900s civil war.
They also depict significant leaders that came during the “troubles” to help
solve the tensions – Nelson Mandela, Bill Clinton, Tony Blair, for example. The
headquarters of Sinn Fein, the party of the IRA, is still there, but it is now
a political organization electing people to the British Parliament.
The Protestant neighborhood was quite
different. Also a lower class area, many of the houses had their own private
fences around their property. Bars were on windows. The murals there were much
more pointed, threatening and violent. They extolled only the leaders of the
UDF during the 1960s – 1980s. It was simply a chilling feeling.
I asked our Belfast tour guide
what was causing this difference between these Catholic and Protestant neighborhoods.
Her answer was that the Protestant neighborhood was much more fearful. The
churches and political rallies consist of much more fear mongering.
Efforts by the City of Belfast to
educate and encourage families to train their children that all religions need
to be respected are taken seriously in the Catholic but rebuffed in the
Protestant neighborhood.
Fear. Hate. Enmity. Why do we
still consider these to be “family values?”
In my book, How the Bible became the Bible, ISBN 978-0-7414-2993-3 pages
213-14, I discuss The End of Days and refer to instances when fear and anxiety
are high. When this is the case, Christian churches quite often begin spending
more time preaching and quoting from the Old Testament or the Book of
Revelation. The focus, of course, is on obeying the Law in order to gain God’s
favor and admittance to Heaven. The alternative is eternal anguish. This is
dogma, and where dogma is predominant, so will be fear and exclusivity because
belief in the dogma is what will “save” you. Of course, if you don't believe the dogma, you are wrong, evil and threatening. Spirituality focuses on the
universal experiences of openness, acceptance, peace and joy. It’s a perception
that focuses on “I think my way. You think yours. As long as you respect me,
that’s all right.”
The reality of the difference
between exclusivity and inclusivity was palpable as we travelled Ireland. Sadly,
it reminded me of the hateful rhetoric here in the States.
Although these messages are
mostly for me, thanks for listening. As always – feel free to forward this
message to your friends, family, and those accompanying you on your spiritual
journey.
Don.
#1 June, 2013
Copyright, 2013
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