German President speaks about Christian Europe
This is how we must imagine the
state of the world in those days when the relics of Liborius were transferred
here from Le Mans to Paderborn. "This
world lived in fear," wrote the historian, Duby: in fear of hunger, of
marauding armies and bands and of ruthless rulers - basically, of every new
day.
In those days, it was a comfort
to people if they could believe that at least their relationship to the
supernatural was intact, to the fate-determining powers of heaven, to God. Since God was thought of as a distant liege
lord, it was important to have powerful and effective intercessors.
These intercessors, these
mediators between the unredeemed earthly existence and the eternal, so
infinitely far away, were seen in the saints. They too, like the poor souls of the present
time, had lived in this vale of tears of the world but were now particularly
close to God through their godly lives or through their martyrdom and could
thus mediate between the faithful and the Creator. The saints were, as it were, lobbyists in the
antechamber of the heavenly powers.
We can hardly form a sufficient
picture of the power of this idea. Moreover,
that is why we can hardly estimate how infinitely significant it was to have
the earthly, bodily remains of such saints very close by, that is in the form
of relics.
Relics were one of the most
precious things a community, a monastery, a city or a country could possess. A Church without relics was practically
unthinkable. That is why they were as
necessary as they were coveted; they were objects of friendly exchange, of
trade, occasionally also important booty in military campaigns. The more important the saints were, the more
powerful the effect of their relics was imagined to be.
And so, in the Ninth Century, the
transfer of relics of St Liborius from Le Mans to Paderborn was an event of
truly outstanding significance. It was
about strengthening the faith in the Eastern territories of the still
unconsolidated Empire. Today one would
say: a typical mixture of political, religious and popular motives. At that time, such gifts not only strengthened
the faith but also consolidated existing rule. The fact that this resulted in
one of the oldest friendships between cities in the world shows how important
and momentous this delivery was - at a time, incidentally, when the terms
Germany and France, as we understand them today, were still completely unknown.
So we look back to the origins of
the Libori festival, which is attended by hundreds of thousands of visitors
every year - and remember how the free, peaceful and prosperous Europe in which
we are fortunate enough to live today grew out of a poor world that was mostly
characterised by hunger and hardship and violence.
This Europe is largely based on
Christian - and for that very reason also on Jewish - foundations. It is based on the belief that we ultimately
live in a good creation that serves humanity. It is based on the belief that this creation
has been handed over to us as faithful hands to make the best of it for all. It is based on the belief that mercy,
solidarity, charity are not signs of weakness but of great moral strength. It is based on the belief that each individual
is responsible for his or her actions and for his or her omissions in his or
her conscience and before his or her Creator.
This conviction unites us over
more than a thousand years with the people who still saw with their own eyes the
arrival of the bones of St Liborius from Le Mans here in Paderborn. (The President is speaking at the 500th Anniversary)
We know: There has never been a
straight line from basic Christian convictions to actual action. Again and again, there have been terrible
aberrations and crimes and perversions of these good and wholesome origins. The Crusades, the persecutions of heretics and
witches, the wars, even in the name of religion, the suppression of dissenting
opinions, attitudes and ways of life, the oppression of women, the slave trade
and the murder of European Jews are all testimonies to shame and betrayal.
Moreover, that is why European
history always requires a re-consideration of Europe's good spiritual roots and
of its humanistic foundations. Often
enough - for example in the Enlightenment and in the various social movements
up to the present day - the roots and the justifications of human rights
originally laid down in Christianity had to be asserted against the official
representatives of Christianity. Time
and again, the Sermon on the Mount or the Parable of the Good Samaritan had to
be recalled against the Church herself.
If we are facing a great new
challenge today, if we speak of a war being waged against the often so-called
"Western" values in view of the criminal war being waged by Russia
against Ukraine, then we must be clear about one thing: Values are not marked
by one of four points of the compass. Values
are neither Eastern nor Western. Values
are determined by proven convictions, by the experience that through them a
good common life is possible for as many as possible, that through them the
weak are protected and the chances of all for a fulfilled life are strengthened
- and also by the experience of how terrible it is for all when these values
are disregarded.
Russia's war against Ukraine
violates everything that we considered fundamental for the co-existence of
people on this continent only years ago, both in the West and in the East. It is bringing suffering to millions in
Ukraine, tens of thousands have become victims of brutal armed violence, cities
have been destroyed, millions have had to leave their homes and having been
forced to flee abroad are in fear for those who have stayed behind.
Russia is not only questioning
borders and it is not only occupying territories of an independent, sovereign
neighbouring state and even denying the statehood of Ukraine. At the same time, Putin is destroying a
European security architecture that worked for many generations after the
experience of two bloody World Wars in the last century, and which, with the
Helsinki Final Act fifty years ago, created hope for lasting peace in Europe.
I fear we are returning to a time
we thought we had left behind: a mutual closure between East and West. The younger ones may think the return of the
Cold War is no particular catastrophe; the older ones still know about the
fragility and danger of the state of affairs - especially for the people of
Europe.
However, during these days there is more at stake: the war Putin is waging against Ukraine is also a war against the unity of Europe. We must not allow ourselves to be divided, we must not allow the great work of a united Europe, which we have begun so promisingly, to be destroyed. This war is not just about the territory of Ukraine but it is also about the common foundation of our values and our peaceful order in a double sense.
We will only take a clear stance
on this and be clear about our own commitment if we are very clear about what
defines us and holds us together. About
the values that we recognise as supporting and have experienced as enduring for
a free, just and humane coexistence. Moreover,
are we prepared to defend these values and to stand up for their validity and
to accept sensitive disadvantages when following them?
Are we ready for this? This is the question we all face - today and
in the days, weeks and months ahead. Perhaps
it will help us in the decisions we all have to make or have to support if we
remember what a long way we have had to go in our part of Europe since the days
of the transfer of the bones of St Liborius here to Paderborn. Georges Duby wrote about that time: "This
world lived in fear". This world
had found something that bit by bit, over the centuries, could overcome this
fear or at least make it smaller. We should
not take a back seat to this, but together seek and find what can transform
this fear, which we feel again and again today, into strength and power.
Europe's strength, Europe's
community of values, Europe's happiness and Europe's future depend to a large
extent on the partnership, indeed the friendship between Germany and France.
Who would have thought that
possible, especially in the past two centuries? Who would have thought it possible, for
example, in 1806, when Napoleon rode into Berlin after the Battle of Jena and
Auerstedt or in 1870/71, when the German Empire wanted to constitute itself
through a war against France or in 1914/18, when hundreds of thousands of
soldiers bled to death before Verdun and elsewhere or in 1940 or 1945?
It was two devout Christians, two
Catholics, General Charles de Gaulle and Chancellor Konrad Adenauer, who at a Mass
in Reims Cathedral, the old coronation site of the French kings, reminded
themselves and their compatriots of their ultimately indestructible common roots
and finally symbolically ended the so-called hereditary enmity between Germany
and France - that enmity which, on a historical scale, if we think of the
thousand-year-old relationship between Le Mans and Paderborn, was rather short.
In this context, we remember Charles de Gaulle's speech to the German youth -
in German! -which he delivered almost exactly sixty years ago.
There are probably few places in
the centre of Germany where the relationship between France and Germany and its
importance for Europe is as vividly remembered as here in Paderborn and where the old relationship has been
renewed again and again.
Today I am thinking, by way of
example, of a priest from the archdiocese of Paderborn, Franz Stock, who
studied theology in Paris. As a German military
chaplain in France, he then sacrificially cared for French prisoners of war and
himself supported hundreds of Resistance fighters sentenced to execution. When he himself was a prisoner of war after
the surrender, he ran a large seminary among prisoners near Chartres. Abbé Stock, as he was known there, is still
held in high honour in France today; as early as 1949, a memorial service was
held for him in the Invalides Cathedral - the first time ever for a German. Even the square in front of the memorial to
the French resistance against the German occupation on Mont Valérien is named
after him. The then Nuncio in France who buried the chaplain, who died at an
early age, in 1948, Angelo Roncalli, later Pope John XXIII, said of him:
"Abbé Stock, that's not a name, it's a programme."
It was and it is as always: where
much is destroyed and everything lies in ruins, where much can no longer be
taken for granted, it is individuals who take up the good work again and
continue it and open up a better future for many, for all of us.
Whether it is Abbé Stock; whether
it is so many who then got an understanding of the importance of France and
Germany for Europe in the Franco-German Youth Office; whether it is members of
the Franco-German St. Liborius Fraternity, here in Paderborn and in Le Mans;
whether it is historians, such as Johannes Willms, who has just passed away,
who brought us closer to our western neighbouring country, for example through
biographies of Napoleon or Charles de Gaulle; whether it is so many who read
French literature, listen to French chansons, love French films: All of them
have played and continue to play a part in keeping peace and friendship between
France and Germany alive and in ensuring that this friendship continues to
contribute to building a united Europe.
Europe, as we experience again
and again here in Paderborn at the Libori Festival, is our rich past. Europe must also be our future dedicated to
the common good.
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