World events like the civil war in Syria, the financial crisis in Europe and the political deadlock in Australia and the United States make evident the need for symbols of trust and reconciliation. Gestures such as the National Apology to the Stolen Generations in Australia and truth and reconciliation commissions in South Africa have made possible a new approach to old division, even if those possibilities have often been squandered.
Religions have traditionally been good at offering symbols of trust and reconciliation. Confessional rites abound in the Christian churches and there are many formal greetings that speak of reconciliation. Churches have had a small role in brokering national and international disputes. For that reason it is a pity that so many recent stories of the Catholic Church have spoken of mistrust rather than of trust, of dividing rather than of reconciling.
So it is a pleasure to reflect on the consecration of the new Bishop of Toowoomba, Robert McGuckin. The details of this celebration spoke creatively of trust and opened possibilities of reconciliation.
In prospect the consecration of the new Bishop must have seemed to demand skills like those required when negotiating entry to a harbour surrounded by dangerous shoals and currents.
His predecessor, Bishop Bill Morris, was very popular in the diocese. But he had been removed from his position in an unsatisfactory process that caused widespread disquiet. The consecration could easily have been seen as an assembly of complicit men imposing their will on a resistant people. That would have made it more difficult for the incoming bishop to gain and build trust among his people.
In the event the ceremony allowed a space for trust and for reconciliation. Morris was present at the ceremony. He handed the crozier, the symbol of the bishop's office, to McGuckin and accompanied him to the bishop's chair. In his remarks at the end of the ceremony, McGuckin praised Morris and thanked him for his help and his service to the diocese. His words of appreciation were met by the congregation with sustained applause.
All this sounds gracious and natural. But it required a high level of trust, given that the consecration was the culmination of a series of events that had been marked by mistrust. Morris and McGuckin both showed considerable magnanimity. The congregation responded with equal magnanimity, the seedbed for mutual trust.
The symbolism of the ceremony had broader implications. It revealed the importance of the distinction between moving on and letting go.
After faits accomplis such as the invasion of Iraq and the dismissal of Morris, the voices of pragmatism are always heard advising us to move on. The deed is done: it should now be forgotten and we should get on with life. This is the logic of power and submission. When power has been exercised we should submit, applaud and avert our eyes from the casualties. This is what moving on means.
The symbolism of the Toowoomba ceremonies was not about moving on. In applauding Morris so long and loudly, the people expressed their esteem for a man who was deeply trusted. But they also expressed their judgment on what had been done to him. They were given the opportunity both to remember what they saw as an injustice and at the same time to let go of anger, paralysis and alienation.
It was a statement that the faith that bound them together as fellow human beings and Catholics transcended the injustices, angers and compromises that divided them. Letting go expresses the logic of love and trust. It leads people to remember what has been done badly and the people hurt by it. But it also leads them to engage with others in a new order, even if this has come about through bad behaviour.
The ceremony itself took place on the feast of St Benedict, which was not without its own ironies. But the monastic Rule which bears Benedict's name is full of symbolic gestures of trust.
The Rule commends obedience. This is often presented in terms of power and submission. But for Benedict's Rule obedience is about listening to Christ. It begins and ends in love. Because Christ is found in others, obedience is about mutual trust between monks and abbott. Perfect love sidelines irony.
The consecration of Bishop McGuckin was a domestic event in a country church. But it threw into relief the poverty of our public life and the desperate need of symbols of trust such as those seen in Toowoomba.
Andrew Hamilton is consulting editor of Eureka Street.