Memorial is also hope for humanity - SMH 30/08/07

On October 20, 2001, at the height of an election John Howard seemed doomed to lose, Indonesian fishermen drawing near Christmas Island came across a horrific sight. Across four kilometres of gleaming ocean surface bobbed the bodies of almost 300 women and children, and several dozen men. They drifted in their flowing clothes, among them one young mother still attached to her newborn baby by an umbilical cord. The infant had been born in the nightmare of the sinking. This was the human disaster hidden within the brief naval acronym SIEVX: suspected illegal entry vessel X.

The event was quickly forgotten, the election won, and mortgages and petrol prices took centre stage. Only a few people were willing to say: Hang on, this matters.

The national network called Rural Australians for Refugees - several thousands of people, rural and urban, who were campaigning against the mistreatment of boat people in detention - joined with others in the Uniting Church to create a memorial to something most people did not even know about, let alone want to remember. A national schools competition was held, and a design by a Brisbane schoolboy, Mitchell Donaldson, was chosen by popular acclaim.

This weekend, 353 intricately painted wooden poles will be erected on the shore of Lake Burley Griffin, humanising the numbers, giving the kind of respect in death that refugees are usually denied. Each pole has two small plaques on its side, with a Middle Eastern name on one and the name of an Australian school or church on the other. Geelong Grammar is there, as is Christmas Island School. Tiny primary schools, huge secondary schools. Every faith, or no faith at all.

One Australian newspaper editorialised about the memorial builders, calling them conspiracy theorists, exploiting the grief of survivors who should be allowed to get on with their lives. The writers seemed to overlook Anzac Day or the lavish attention heaped on the Bali bombings. It was clear that only some approved griefs suited the national agenda. Those who campaigned for decades for a Vietnam veterans' memorial know about this kind of selective history.

The opponents of the memorial showed a convenient misunderstanding of how grief works - it is the communal sharing and memorialising of loss that helps with the otherwise unbearable burden of losing one's wife and young children, and in some instances, one's whole extended family of several dozen people. These men are living here now but their lives are far from easy, and peace comes only gradually to their sleep. The survivors, in Australia and in the more welcoming countries of Norway, Finland, New Zealand and Canada, and relatives left behind in Iraq, have been deeply moved to learn of the memorial to their loved ones. And that it was largely created by Australian school students. And Christian ones at that.

Is the memorial political? It is much more than that. There are larger things than politics, and our failure to grasp this has endangered our country more than any other issue in the past decade. It is about morality, about absolute standards of right and wrong. It is about the sacredness of human life and about how humanity must transcend politics in times of emergency and need. If we don't stand for ultimate human values, if we lose our moral compass, then we are a country doomed to fatal division and decline. Who would even care about us?

Too few Australians know about SIEVX. Fewer still that it was a boat overwhelmingly full of women and children. We had their husbands, and left in terrible vulnerability, what else could these young mothers have done?

There are dark shadows around the sinking beyond mere tragedy. Australia funded a people-smuggling disruption program in Indonesia, quickly and cheaply cobbled together as treating boat people harshly suddenly became a vote winner among a frightened electorate. Indonesian police and armed forces, enmeshed in the people-smuggling industry, now at Australia's request, had a stake in its failure as well as its success. The SIEVX passengers were assembled at a hotel in Lampung, southern Sumatra. Armed police supervised the loading of the derelict and terrifyingly crowded vessel. One man attempting to disembark with his family was reportedly pistol-whipped and made to stay.

Most chilling of all, the 40 or so survivors who endured more than 20 hours in the water all reported an astonishing thing. Two military vessels, presumably Indonesian, with guns and spotlights, came in the night searching the wreck site. The people in the water cried out; many started to swim to the lights. How could this not mean rescue? But the boats sailed away.

The 300 schools and churches and individuals building the SIEVX memorial do not accuse anyone of anything. We are ordinary Australians with no way of knowing the facts. But we believe we have a responsibility as citizens to know. Remembering the SIEVX victims, standing with their families and sharing their loss, is the first step, the decent thing to do. Finding out why this happened, and how it can be prevented from ever happening again, are essential sequels.

Steve Biddulph is a psychologist and author. He has been part of the SIEVX Memorial Project since its inception in 2002.

Forgiveness

Joanne came with a heavy heart and eyes streaming with tears... she had heard that the Rachel's Vineyard Retreat would be able to help her find some peace and comfort after years of grief and shame. Three years before, Joanne had been forced to abort her baby. She had felt trapped and unable to stand up to the pressure from her husband: "This is not a good time... I'm studying... we can have a baby later later... there's plenty of time." But now, here she was, three years later - and still no baby.

The retreat began gently with a meditation and ritual based on today's Gospel passage (John 8:1 -11). The woman in the story was filled with fear, shame and grief, just like Joanne. But the Joanne also heard the words that Jesus spoke to that woman: "I do not condemn you". She then went on to reveal to the group that in the three years since her abortion, in an attempt to deaden the pain she was feeling, she had smoked marijuana constantly. She was "stoned" by her own hand! Hearing those beautiful. gentle words of Jesus helped Joanne start to take the first steps along her healing journey back to wholeness.

During the retreat, participants are invited to write a letter to their aborted baby. In her letter, Joanne wrote:

'When I found out you were inside me, I already knew - we had been loving each other and I felt you tugging my womb and my breasts. I was honoured to be your mummy, but I was so scared. I felt alone and worried and I did a terrible thing to you. Your daddy and I were fighting a lot and we were very poor. I never wanted you to experience the hurt I did growing up poor.

I have named you Gabriel. It means "In God is my strength". God wasn't my strength when you werre in my belly - I had turned from the world. I should have just stayed loving and trusting you. My life fell apart after you left it. I couldn't face a life without you and felt so bad for hurting you and taking your life. But Gabriel, I have returned to God now and hope that you are loved in His hands.

I want you to know that although you life was so short, you did matter. You have had a profound impact on me and you have become my greatest Teacher. I will tell your story my darling. I'll take God's guidance to direct me in this and I pray that you may forgive me and watch over all my endeavours in your name.'

An interesting story. It got me thinking about forgiveness, and what it actually means to us. Oscar Romero tells us that God wants to forgive us, yet Joanne highlights the underlying problem for us; We have to forgive ourselves of our sin before we can let God forgive us as well. The reasoning of this is simple. It is clear from sources to numerous to mention that God is all to willing to forgive us, but this is a unsettling notion for many.

Humans don't often like to think about our failings. Death - the reminder of our ultimate fallibility - scares us. We don't like it when people correct us in front of those who we are seeking respect or admiration, and we become uneasy and embarrassed when we screw up. Humans like to think they are perfect, if not then close to it. To a certain degree, we can ignore the downsides of life.

But we cannot ignore God's calling. God's constant reminder of that ultimate forgiveness causes some to fall far from the path. Shamed by their mistake, God's willingness to forgive only drives them farther away. I'm not saying we should be comfortable with our sins, but we should recognise our shortcomings and be prepared to live with, and learn from, them. It was only after Joanne was prepared to go to a retreat and face her shortcomings that she could forgive herself and let God back into her life.

The Penitential Rite highlights this need to face our defeats to temptation. As is said in the Confitior, "I confess to Almighty God, and to you my brothers and sisters; That I have sinned through my own fault, in my thoughts, in my words, in what I have done, and what I have failed to do". It is then that we can face God, let him into our hearts, and be filled with the Holy Spirit's wisdom and love.

'I would like to say, as a brother,
to all those friends whose consciences are uneasy
because they have sinned against God and neighbour;
You cannot be happy that way;
the God of love is calling you.
He wants to forgive you,
He wants to save you.'

Oscar Romero (1917 - 1980)

We swear by the Southern Cross to stand truly by each other and fight to defend our rights and liberties

Now that is a national flag. Oh, if only we were a republic, and could remove the obscene Union Jack from our colours. The title of this post is the oath sworn by the diggers at Bakery Hill to the Eureka Flag when it was first flown on the 28th of November 1854. The Eureka Stockade stands for many things to many different people - independent free enterprise, labour against a ruling class, and republicanism, but it is undeniable that it stands for Democracy. In fact, the first resolution passed by the Ballarat Reform League (creators of the flag) was "that it is the inalienable right of every citizen to have a voice in making the laws he is called on to obey, that taxation without representation is tyranny".

God I love that flag. I gladly salute it.

The Best Entry Ever

I have pizza. Its awesome. I start my uni days tomorrow. Something funny. Crude but affectionate send off.

Come as you are, that's how I want you.
Come as you are, feel quite at home.
Close to my heart, loved and forgiven;
come as you are, why stand alone?

No need to fear, love sets no limits.
No need to fear, love never ends.
Don't run away, shamed as disheartened.
Rest in my love, trust me again.

I came to call sinners, not just the virtuous.
I came to bring peace, not to condemn.
Each time you fail to live by my promise,
why do you think I'd love you the less?

Come as you are, that's how I love you.
Come as you are, trust me again.
Nothing can change the love that I bear you.
All will be well, just come as you are.

- Deidre Browne, Hymn Titile: Come As You Are

One afternoon at home I recieved a call from my youngest son's school to say he was on external expulsion, which means he can't attend school until we meet with the principal. They said it was not just one incident but a number of them.

When he came home my wife and I questioned him. He said he had had a run in with a teacher and words were exchanged. My son isn't perfect, and when he gets frustrated he says how he feels, but I thought that what the principal had apparently said was not right either. It seems he told my son that he would be better off leaving now, in Year 11, because he would never get a job, he would only ever get the dole.

That evening at home I opened my son's bedroom door and found him crying uncontrollably but not out loud. The light was out and I left it that way. I walked into his room and stood by his side. I asked, "What's the matter?" and he replied, "I'm dumb. I'll never get anywhere. I'm dumb, I'm dumb, I'm dumb.

A wave of sorrow came over me. You see, he has a learning disability. He's not dumb, far from it - in fact he's very bright - it's just that his comprehension is slow. I had the same problem when I went to school but nobody knew what it was in my day. I could relate to what he was saying very strongly. I told him once when he was younger, and he said with a grin and a hug, "So it's your fault!"

I sat on the bed next to him and said "Now you listen to me. You're not dumb. The problem is society's expectations: 'If you don't get that apprenticeship, if you don't get into university, you'll never be any good.' But I tell you this: you do the best you can. Mum and I will help you. But if you don't get that apprenticeship, if you don't reach your dreams it will still work out okay. I know because I've been there. We will love you just as much."

With that he seemed to settle down and I left the room. Since this talk we have come closer, and that's more important to me then anything else. When I entered his room I didn't have a clue what to say or do. And when I left I gave thanks to God for guiding me. Since our talk I can't help but think God is saying the same thing to everybody: "Listen to me. I've been there. I know what's best for you. We are related and I love you."

- Michael, Peoplespeak

God just wants the best for us all, and his love is the way to act through God. As Ignatius of Antioch said, "Life begins and ends throughgoing faith and love for Jesus Christ. Faith is the begining, and love is the end; and the union of the two together is God." If we acted through love a little more, think of all the wonders we could achieve! But if we wallow in self-pity at our failures, ignoring God's love and call, then we shall periously stumble in darkness, searching for some other light.

May no trial, no tribulation,
no oppression, no hunger,
nothing sad, nothing sweet,
nothing unjust, nothing fair,
may none of the world's vanities seperate us from Christ,
that He may dwell within us here,
so that we may abide with Him
for ever and ever.

- St. Columban