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Sermon by the Archbishop of Canterbury at Evensong, Cathedral of St John The Divine, New York

Posted on: September 16, 2000 11:51 AM
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May I begin by thanking the Dean for the invitation to preach in this great cathedral. Let me also at the outset honour the work each of you does towards the well-being of the human family. I am sure you have noticed that we live in a world full of mission statements. Government departments and multi-national corporations, public utilities and voluntary agencies. From airlines to sports clubs-virtually every one has a mission statement these days.

Mission statements are, I suppose, signposts. They remind those inside, and inform those outside an organisation about the direction in which it's meant to be travelling, and the destination it hopes to reach. The UN charter is a form of mission statement. One that after decades is still capable of inspiring and motivating peoples and governments, to work for a better, more peaceful and more just world. Its four-fold commitment is as important as it was half a century ago: to maintain international peace and security, to develop friendly relations among nations, to co-operate in solving international problems and in promoting respect for human rights, and to be a centre for harmonising the actions of nations.

By their very nature, of course, mission statements tend to be aspirational. They are about how things should be rather than about the way things are. And like so much human endeavour, the gap between aspiration and achievement can be a wide one at times. Add to that the fact that if the original goal is a fine and noble one, the falling short can be that much more painful.

But that does not invalidate the original goal nor undermine a genuine attempt to achieve it. It is not so much the gap between aspiration and achievement that is prejudicial to our moral and spiritual health, as the quality of the commitment we bring to our striving.

That is the test if you like of a mission statement-do we actually believe in it, enough to really seek to live by it. And if we do, what will sustain us in that endeavour? Well for Christians the answer lies in the definitive example of Jesus Christ.

In fact, our Gospel reading this evening could be described as an early mission statement. And a pretty challenging one at that:

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God,
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted,
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth…
Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy…
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God'

In a world that attaches so much importance to wealth and power, ambition and achievement, it comes as something of a shock to hear the values proclaimed so resoundingly in the Sermon on the Mount. Are we seriously meant to try to live them out? And if so, how?

What as Christians can guide us? What will help us make real the mission statement of Christ? Help us to inhabit the words not merely mouth them?

The first answer is love. That must be pre-eminent. But Christian love is not sentimental or wishy-washy. It is down to earth. It is rooted in compassionate action. In one of Christ's best known stories -- about the Good Samaritan --the word love does not occur at all. But that's what the story is all about: the compassionate love in action of an outsider who helps someone regarded as an enemy. If we truly believe that our fellow human beings are valuable in God's sight, then this belief has profound implications for our relationship with them. Because they, too, are made in his image.

So, Christian love challenges us to extend the scope of our sympathy and compassion. It calls us-like the story of the Good Samaritan-to embrace the rejected and neglected, the marginalised and the despised. It calls us to care for the victims of violence and disease, prejudice, racism and oppression; from the elderly outcast to the child with AIDS. Christian love in action helps bind us together; helps us build new communities across old divisions. Such love is at the very heart of the Sermon on the Mount. It is a mission statement for a better world.

But that message is not one for Christians alone. I believe it is good for all people, all times and all places - yes even for the United Nations in New York in the year 2000!

But, no I do not mean that all UN representatives and staff should immediately sign up as Christians. I have far too much respect for the beliefs of others to suggest that. But I do suggest that the vision I am seeking to articulate has profound relevance for the work of the UN and the way it seeks to nurture and revitalise its own mission.

I certainly do not share the view of those pessimists who see the mission of the UN today as "Mission Impossible." One task is to ensure that those who wrestle with the problems of the world here in New York do not in the process become detached from the realities of the lives and circumstances of those whom they are trying to help and support: the poor in spirit, the meek, and those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.

In this endeavour I believe the faith communities, both individually and working together, can play a significant supporting role. The worldwide Anglican Communion, for example, which I have the privilege to lead, has an observer at the UN. I hope very much we shall also be able to strengthen our working links. Certainly, the networks developed and maintained by our own and by other faith communities around the world - are a rich source of experience and insight. We are already seeking to share them in a project I have been developing with the President of the World Bank.

But I believe the message of the Sermon on the Mount also has implications for the UN's own structures and procedures; implications for how it operates, how it seeks to reach decisions and attempts to implement them. No one pretends this is easy. Compromise is often regarded as a dirty word-but when the interests and concerns of nearly one hundred and ninety countries are at stake, what other way is there? The question is not whether there has to be compromise, but the basis for that compromise. Does it represent the best available way of tackling the real issue, or is it a deal cut for the convenience of those at the table?

Any serious call for reform has to include the Security Council and its permanent membership. It would be absurd to seek to deny powerful and influential nations their due status and proper influence. But such nations should also set an example of good and responsible practice at the UN. The richest and most powerful nation of all, the United States, has not paid in full its UN arrears. There may be things the United States does not like about the UN -- it wouldn't be unique in that regard -- but withholding payment may not be the best way of making the point. Indeed it can be counter-productive for everyone involved-including those most in need round the world.

It's not just about money of course. Knowledge and experience are also valuable currencies. But they have to be circulated and invested wisely-not hoarded. One of the best ways for powerful nations to exercise responsible stewardship is through a culture of sharing and inclusiveness. Now, it is not for me to offer detailed prescriptions for reforming the Security Council. There are many ideas around already-they have at least two things in common-they all call for change, and none of them has been implemented. But there is a danger that without imaginative reform, the credibility of the Council itself may be eroded. Reform would be both symbol and expression of a different way of visualising the world and of working to meet its challenges-the challenges of peace and justice for all.

And if our focus is on the very poor, the marginalised, the refugees and those who struggle selflessly for a better world, then we are aligning ourselves in effect with Jesus' mission statement. For it is the peace-makers, the meek, the pure in heart and those who hunger and thirst for right to prevail, whom Jesus called 'blessed'. Blessed, because they reflect the character of God himself.