“You shall also love the stranger” Deut 10:19

The most important lesson I learned in all that I saw and heard during my year of office as President of the Methodist Conference is summed up in the words of a young Bosnian Muslim survivor.   He shared these words at the first Holocaust Memorial event held in Britain on 27th January this year.   He spoke of so-called “ethnic cleansing”.   He described how a diverse community of good neighbours was suddenly brought to the point of enmity and hostility to each other; and how he was tortured by people he knew.   Then he spoke these words, and I shall never forget them:

“When one group starts to treat another group of people as less than human that’s the beginning of genocide.”

The diverse communities of Birmingham, Bradford, Belfast as well as Bosnia need to hear the wisdom and warning in the words of this young man.   Such atrocity could happen in Bosnia – we don’t want it in Britain.

“Ethnic Cleansing”  – as it is termed – is rooted in doctrines of ethnic and religious purity.   It fears diversity and difference.   People say “You are different, you are dirty, you cannot live near me.   You must go and live somewhere else.”   To bring people to a point where they move out, violence is threatened or unleashed.

History is littered with ethnic atrocity and genocide.   There have been times when religion has been used to sanction or justify such atrocity.

The book Religion and Atrocity: Unholy Alliance by Jewish theologian Marc Ellis spells this out very well.   Any person of good will and good faith is ashamed when religion is abused to sanction or justify atrocity.   Where religion is used to sanction or justify atrocity, people of good will and good faith will reject it.   People will not trust or respect the judgement and wisdom of systems, structures, religion or individuals that support separation of people, however that is attempted.

There have been – and are – numerous ideologies or philosophies or theologies that have been used to separate people.
• the caste system
• the theory of many races, and purity of races
• the doctrine of apartheid
• the strategy of ethnic cleansing

Religion is co-opted in these systems to accord purity and cleanness to the established groups and to support or justify their power or empires, if you like.

In all the ideologies of separation I have listed, ancient and modern, prime of place is given to those of lighted skin colours.   We can see it , for example, in Noah who spoke words of curse to his son Canaan who would have been black; in the actions of Abraham who drove out his black wife, Hagar; when Moses is criticised by Aaron and Miriam because he had married a black, Cushite woman.

Such colour discrimination came to be ritualised by language of purity and defilement.   The privileged people were pure, and the rest were unclean.   The pure and the unclean or impure could not interact.   In time, the most sacred of religious qualities, holiness, came to mean being pure – and separate and free of contact with people, animals and things that could defile one.   The holy ones, the pure, were seen to be close to God who is holy and separate.   Everyone else is an outsider, unclean.   The one who is different is the one who is not pure.  

Stricter and stricter boundaries were drawn between the inner, holy, circle and those outside it.   The “insiders” has space to be.   The “outsiders” were outside it.   They had no place.   They were no people.   These are the ones who Biblically are referred to as “strangers”.   Strangers are the ones to whom the insiders owe nothing, the ones from whom the insiders should keep separate.   The strangers are nameless masses who are an irritation, and embarrassment and unwelcome.   To be a stranger is to be denied access to life.

The Biblical term for them is Habiru.   Most Biblical scholars now regards Habiru as an alternative rendering of Hebrew.   The term Hebrew has roots in the word abar which means “to cross over”.   Hebrew therefore id the one who crosses over boundaries in the quest for life.   As one author notes (W. Brueggemann, Interpretation and Obedience, Fortress 1991, p293), Hebrew are “the people who finally became the ‘people of God’ in the OT [and] are among some of those [who had been] declared ‘strangers’, ‘outsiders’, ‘threat’” – by the status quo, i.e. the Egyptian Empire.

In the story of Joseph in Egypt, we read (Gen 43:32):

“They served him by himself,
and them by themselves,
because the Egyptians
might not eat bread with the Hebrews,
for that is an abomination to the Egyptians.”

The word “abomination” shows how the idea of separateness had been ritualised for members of the status quo.   To eat with the stranger would be defiling.   This ritualising developed into laws and regulations regarding food, sexuality and the priesthood.

In God’s design, the Hebrew, the strangers, the no-people, became God’s people.

God hears the cries of the Hebrews in Egypt.  
God hears them and accords them status.
The stranger, the outsider, is seen to be included in God’s community.

This community now lives by a divine ethic.   God is seen to side with the stranger.   God’s people are required to emulate God.

Jonathan Sacks, Chief Rabbi of the United Hebrew Congregation of the Commonwealth has written (Faith in the Future, DLT 1995, p.78):

“The Hebrew Bible contains the great command, ‘you shall love your neighbour as yourself’ (Lev 19:18), and this has often been taken as the basis of biblical morality.   But it is not:  it is only part of it.   The Jewish sages noted that on only one occasion does the Hebrew Bible command us to love our neighbour, but in 37 places it commands us to love the stranger.   Our neighbour is one we love because he is like ourselves.   The stranger is one we are taught to love precisely because he is not like ourselves.”

That is a remarkable piece of illumination.   “Love your neighbour as yourself” is the instruction that is readily quoted.   Hardly ever do we hear God’s oft repeated command to “love the stranger”.

In Deuteronomy 12:17-19, we read:

“17 The Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who is not partial and takes no bribe,
18 who executes justice for the orphan and the widow,
 and who loves the strangers,
 providing them with food and clothing.
19 You shall also love the stranger,
 for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.”

Why should you love the stranger?
Because God loves the stranger…and remember, you were strangers in the land of Egypt.

The Hebrew – the stranger in Egypt, to whom God showed love, is now required to love the stranger.

God’s holiness is not seen in God’s remoteness or separateness from the stranger, but by God’s utter concern for the stranger, by God’s adoption and embrace of the stranger.   God requires nothing less from those who would be holy.   God is outraged when “the stranger residing among you  suffers extortion” (Ez 22:7).   This is the god who is seen in Jesus of Nazareth.   God is the incarnate one, the one who is with us.

Jesus cuts through boundaries and separation between who is considered to be holy and profane.   You remember the insiders who would not eat with the outsiders, the stranger, because that would be an “abomination”.   Jesus’ most subversive and radical activity, for which he is most criticised, is to eat with the social outcasts of his day.   It is said that “he eats with sinners and tax collectors”.   The tax collectors were not flavour of the day because they collaborated with the “outsiders”.

Jesus expressed his solidarity with the poor and marginalized people of his day by eating with them.   He welcomes the poor, “the unclean”, “the sinners”, the harlots and publicans and ate with them.   In this he showed God’s way, God’s truth and God’s life.   He demonstrates a holiness of connectedness not separateness, of intimacy not aloofness.

• breaks down barriers
• crosses our boundaries
• includes those who would have been excluded
• eats with anyone who would eat with him.
Everything Jesus did and said demonstrated these things.

Guardians of boundaries and holiness of separation don’t like such behaviour.   In the end, Jesus’ actions crucified him

Jesus has left an example for his community.   Practise hospitality.   Eat with each other.   Eat with the most vulnerable ones.   Eat with “the stranger”.   Your lifestyle should be one of hospitality and solidarity, not hostility and segregation.

The ethics of so many are about
They may extend to “love of neighbour”.

The Biblical and gospel demand is for a different, counter-cultural ethic:
 “God loves the stranger…
   You shall also love the stranger.”

The strength of this requirement is seen in the fact that it is stated 37 times in the Hebrew Bible.   Jesus demonstrates the ethics of hospitality and eating with outcasts, and says that in welcoming the stranger, one welcomes Christ:

“I was a stranger and you welcomed me…truly, I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these…you did it to me.”

To be made human in the image of God is to be:
 Creative  “revolting against everything that is opposed to humanity”
   (James Cone, Theology of Liberation  Orbis, sixth edition 1995, p 93.)
Hospitable  revolting against everything that is opposed to the welcome of “strangers”

Being in the image of God is about recognition of the fact that there is one race, the human race.

It is also the vision and theology that is at the root of every act of resistance by black people when they are refused the status of being human when they are refused welcome and hospitality.

To express confidence and belief in the image of God is to say
yes to our colour
yes to our hospitality

And it is to say “no” to those who think they are God but end up laying an assault on God’s  image.
“Black theology emphasises the right of blacks to be black and by so doing to participate in the image of God” (Cone p 93)

To participate in the image of God is to rebel against structures of oppression and segregation; it is to participate in the liberation struggle against the forces of inhumanity.

Ivy Gutridge MBE

Ivy Gutridge came to Wolverhampton from her home town of Swindon with her husband Ken. A committed Methodist all her life, Ivy was a member at St John’s Methodist Church in Wolverhampton. After a member of family who was seriously ill and cared for by Ivy had died, Ivy reluctantly took on the role of Note Taker at meetings of the newly formed Wolverhampton Interfaith Group (WIFG ). She became Honorary Secretary of the WIFG from 1974 to 1998, initially using her own home as the Office. Ivy’s infinite capacity to devote herself to people was focussed on the work of the Wolverhampton Inter-Faith Group. Ivy died in June 2004 after suffering from Alzheimer’s Disease for a number of years.

Ivy moved on from her nervous beginnings, including theological reservations, to becoming the driving inspiration of the WIFG. Ivy’s energy, courtesy and organisational ability brought credibility to the group. Ivy’s genius was that she realised how important it was to promote interfaith dialogue when it was not fashionable. Her vision and foresight has meant that the seeds she began to sow Thirty Years ago will continue to bear fruit well after her life.

In Wolverhampton Ivy worked behind the scenes to resolve conflicts, heal divisions and build relationships of mutual trust and respect. Ivy also travelled to other UK towns and cities to help develop interfaith groups.

In 1983 Ivy was appointed to the Methodist Committee for Relationships With People Of Other Faiths. She did much work from her own home towards the book ‘God Of All Faith’ put together by that Committee. Ivy was active in the founding of the national lnterfaith Network (UK) and was elected its first woman Vice-Chair in 1992. Ivy never sought any limelight or recognition, but was honoured for her Interfaith work when she was awarded the MBE in 1994.

Ivy regarded interfaith dialogue as her life’s work. She conducted it with humility, and was an inspiration to others. She was known in Wolverhampton as ‘Queen Of Interfaith’. Ivy’s interest in Interfaith dialogue was not academic but arose out of an intense desire to find out about, and honour, other people’s faith at a person to person level. She believed in people’s freedom and right to hold their own religious beliefs. A Muslim leader gave the address at a service of remembrance and thanksgiving for her, concluding with the words “As a Muslim, I would recommend her for Sainthood.” A fitting tribute to one who is among the pioneers of the Interfaith movement in the UK.

“Neither on this Mountain, nor in Jerusalem” John 4:21

Sometimes I avoid Chapel Walk. I don’t have time to talk to John who sells the Big Issue. But I like to sit on the bench outside the front doors of the Vic, Victoria Hall. Sometimes I take a mug of coffee with me,-and sometimes an extra one for John. Recently John asked me about the Four Church buildings on the Road about there: The Unitarian Chapel, St. Maries Cathedral, URC, and The Vic. We talked about their different traditions and styles of worship “Do they all worship the same God?” asked John. “I don’t think we all worship the same God,” I replied, “but there is only One God- we all worship the One God.” He then said- “You could all worship in one building. Why do you all need such a large separate place?” I said Jesus had a vision- he longed for a time when people would worship God “in spirit and truth.”

In a conversation with the Samaritan woman, Jesus used the phrase ‘neither on this mountain, nor in Jerusalem.’ Do you have a spot where you like to sit? Your watering hole? Your Jacob’s well…the well at which you rest? Wells are familiar places in the Bible. They are often the places where women and men can meet- perhaps because they are public places and are safe spots. Isaac met his bride to be, Rebecca, by a well. And Jacob met his bride, Rachel, at a well. A well provided water in a desert area. Wells are therefore symbols of the gift of life from God to people. Sometimes the life God gives is described in the language of marriage. Israel is seen as God’s bride. The Church is seen as the bride of Christ. The Samaritan woman-from a despised group- met Jesus at a well. Does this encounter suggest that God gives (has given) new life through the most unlikely encounters, and through surprising relationships, through despised people…? Can you think of a time when you were refreshed by a foreigner? -or a marginalised person?   Just picture Jesus sitting at the well, in the midday heat, shattered by his journey. He is tired and thirsty. He is prepared to ask for a drink. “Give me a drink.” The conversation begins on the theme of water. It moves on to the theme of worship. And the whole chapter ends with Jesus returning to Cana- where he transformed water into wine, and on this occasion restores someone to life.

The progression is similar to chapter 2. • There is a conversation involving water, and transformation of water into wine. • It moves on to the theme of worship involving the cleansing of the Temple. • It concludes with the reference to Jesus resurrection.   So in Ch 2 and Ch 4, the structure is: Water Worship Life, new life.

In both chapters – There is ordinary water, and the water of life – There is a reference to Temples, and Jesus’ critique of Temples – His distinction between temporal places of worship, and true centre of worship which is within us – The body is the Temple – The worship God desires is worship in spirit and truth, worship which is neither defined by nor confined by buildings.

The real Temple is not found in Buildings, but in the Body.   The essence of temple worship is as temporary or time related just as a drink of water does not quench thirst for long. True worship, worship in spirit and truth, is equated with drinking the water Jesus offers which “will become…a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.”   “Sir”-says the woman- “give me this water.”  The conversation begins with Jesus saying “give me a drink.” It moves on to a point where the woman says to Jesus “Sir, give me this water so that I may never be thirsty.”    

The sea, the sea

In the last week of January, the Reverend Thurairajah Samuel, a Methodist minister in Morley, visited his home village, Thirukkovil, in east Sri Lanka.  Several members of his family had been killed and his family house destroyed in the tsunami disaster of 26th December 2004.  He was accompanied by the Reverend Dr Inderjit Bhogal, a Methodist minister in Sheffield, who has written this account of their meeting with the people of the village on the first day of their stay.

“Sea is coming, Sea is coming.”

On Boxing Day 2004, the Reverend Rasarethnam Dayanithy was conducting morning worship in the Methodist Church in the village of Thirrukovil on the east coast of Sri Lanka.  At around 8.55am he heard three bangs in quick succession.  His first thought was that Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) fighters had fired mortar bombs at the Army.  Then he heard the shouts, “Sea is coming, Sea is coming”.   Water began to flood into the Church.  Every one rushed out in panic.  The minister led them to the upper floor of the Orphanage in the grounds.  Then, being a swimmer, he went down and started to rescue as many people as he could.
A month later he said to us simply: “It was a nightmare”. 

His was the first eye-witness account Sam and I were given of the disaster.  We had made the twelve-hour journey to Thirrukovil from the capital, Colombo, in the south-west of the island, arriving close to midnight.  Our journey had taken us through colourful towns, verdant tea plantations, mountain passes with their terrifying hair-pin bends, past lagoons, a myriad of palm trees, accompanied all the time by the cacophony of the abundant animal life.  The continuing beauty and vitality of the island – the ‘Pearl in the Indian Ocean’ – threw the devastation brought about by the tsunami into sharp relief.  We spent the last stretch of the journey in a silence induced by the awesome destruction, now lit by the moon, along the coast.

The following morning, the news that Sam was in the village spread quickly.  Friends and relatives started to arrive to meet him.  Reunions were touched with pain and pleasure, embraces wreathed in smiles and tears.

We made our way towards the sea and towards the site of Sam’s family house.  It took practically an hour to walk a few hundred yards.  As we walked along we could see that almost every house within about a quarter of a mile of the sea had been destroyed or severely damaged by the tsunami.

As we approached the place where his house had stood, Sam stopped and said, “Here is a part of the steel sheeting from the roof”.  On the site itself there was just a mound of broken walls.  The bright green paint of inner walls stood out in the searing sunshine.  I stood with Sam on the mound of rubble.  It was a powerful emotional moment.  No words.  Just silence and tears to mark the loss of what had been a home.

Next door to Sam’s house we could see a grave in the neighbour’s garden.  We were told that buried here are a mother and her six-month old child.  The mother had run into the house and locked the door for safety.  The sea broke in and filled the house, drowning both mother and child.

We moved on along the golden sands.  About 50-60 people, many of them fishermen, had joined us by midday.  Sam invited them all to sit under the shade of a tree beside a well.  One of the fishermen climbed a coconut tree.  He dropped down several coconuts.  These were cut and we were given juice to drink. 

We sat in the sand with people who now are amongst the poorest on earth, who yet display a dignity that has not been broken or abandoned.  We received of their generosity.  They gave us all they could – their tears, their smiles, their time, their coconut juice.

tsunamiboatAnd their stories.   They told us they had lost all but two of the boats of this once thriving fishing village.  One of these boats stood alone at the water’s edge.  The other they are trying to repair further up the beach.  Besides their homes they had lost their livelihoods.

“The Sea has been a source of life to us.  The same Sea became the source of death.  This is what we cannot understand,” they said.

As they told their stories we could hear what today was the gentle lapping of the waves on the beach.  A month earlier the waves had risen to the height of the coconut trees, killing hundreds of people, demolishing houses, smashing boats.  One villager said, “The wave was like a snake with five heads that rose high and came down on us.  It came very fast.  It took many people with it.” 

The sea had sustained their village.  Then the sea had destroyed it.

“Under my Umbrella”

My first impressions, when I saw the pictures on the TV, of scenes of floodwaters along The Wicker in Sheffield, took me back to the hurricane and floods of New Orleans and the Tsunami.  June has been our month of monsoon.

New Prime Minister, Car Bombs, Bomb alerts, Terrorism, War and the Smoking Ban have been in the news but our focus has been on our local reality.

When the big rains came, the volume of water and the routes it took, surprised everyone.  This was a flood of Biblical proportions.  The extremely heavy rains of June have broken all records.  Where was the ark to save us?  There were 3000 emergency calls in Doncaster alone between Mon 24 and Fri 28 June.  The Fire Service answered a call every 30 seconds.  The RNLI came from coastal regions to assist in the rescue efforts in South Yorkshire.

Sheffield’s floods exposed some important truths about our city. 

First, our City is divided into two by the River Don.  When the river swelled up and flooded, one of the greatest causes of concern was that people were prevented from crossing the river by road.  This was the cause of some of the most serious traffic jams and delays.  Many people were stranded away from home on the other side of the Don to where they lived.  Members of family were stranded in different parts of the City and separated.  Many people couldn’t get home from Day Service Centres, Hospitals, Schools, Work and Shopping Centres.  Nurses and other staff couldn’t get in to work to start their shift and relieve colleagues.

Second, the past five or six years have seen tremendous property development and investment along the River Don.  Luxury apartments have been built along the river banks and sold at astronomical prices.  At the same time, houses have been demolished, for example, on Wincobank and Woodside.  These are areas of considerable beauty that are considered to be “less desirable” for living or investing in.  Furthermore, the eating houses providing Caribbean, Kurdish and Pakistani cuisine along the Wicker were all flooded and are now closed awaiting refurbishment.  There has been investment for the wealthy, but not protection for the vulnerable businesses.

Third, the aged infrastructure in parts of Sheffield along the River Don has proved to be inadequate.  Nature has reclaimed the River Don since the Steel Industry has declined.  The tropical temperature of the waters has disappeared.  Fish have returned.  It’s good to see kingfishers and even cormorants.  Fig Trees abound along the river banks.  But the new pollution is the rubbish people throw into the River.  This along with fallen trees helped to block water routes in the river.  We cannot simply shift blame for the floods on to nature, or just ask “how could God allow such disasters”.  We also have to acknowledge the consequences of our own lifestyle.

Fourth, Pop song “Under my Umbrella” sums up the real sense of community spirit that has been evidenced among us.  The Major Incident Plan, and the Emergency Services went into action and deserve thanks from us all.  But they were assisted by countless acts of love and sacrifice from ordinary people.  Extra shelter was provided for those stranded, or suddenly bereft of their homes, by schools, superstores, the Royal Mail and hospitals.  Stories of hatred and terrorist activities have created fear in communities.  People transcended this and offered hospitality.  Many welcomed complete strangers into their homes and gave them shelter.  Radio Sheffield’s Good Neighbour scheme has been an excellent idea.  
Plans to prevent floods in the future will require attention around river banks, flood plains, architecture and design of buildings, roads and railways.  We must all consider our own lifestyles also, and reduce the amount of waste we create and throw away.  Throwing rubbish into the rivers and dykes must end, and the Council must take greater care of our rivers, river banks and river beds.

Our own floods will help us to empathise even more with people in other parts of the world who are victims of extreme weather and disasters.  Floods in Afghanistan, Pakistan and India over the same period in June killed six hundred people, and a total of 1.2 million have been affected by the storms. We have learnt from the Tsunami and the situation in New Orleans’ floods that our care strategy is judged by how we respond to the needs of the poorest and the most vulnerable among us.

1st July 2007

Face to Face and Side by Side

Gill Hicks lost both her legs in the 7/7London Underground bombs three years ago.  She is now walking between Leeds and London [200 miles] with her new artificial legs. 

I met Gill when she and her WALK/TALK Team walked through Sheffield.  The Sheffield length of the walk commenced in the City’s Peace Gardens.  Leader of the Council, Paul Scriven was among those who gathered to walk and talk with Gill and her team.  In his words to Gill, Paul Scriven said, “I want to launch a new initiative today.  Each year, during this particular week, we will encourage people to walk in each other’s shoes as a way of encouraging people to understand each other better.”  Mike Love, a member of the Walk/Talk Team called on people to build a shared future through conversation.  Then Paul joined fifty or so others to walk with Gill and colleagues through the streets of Sheffield.

I walked and talked with Gill.  As I did so recalled that in March 1997 I had set off from the Peace Gardens to walk to 10 Downing Street along the route Gill was taking to London.  I had walked to hand deliver a letter to the Prime Minister asking for a fairer deal for “Asylum Seekers”.  I asked her why she was walking to London.  “It’s to encourage people to walk side by side with each other and talk with each other, to encourage conversation.” 

“But why are you walking?” I asked her.

“Walking is the most difficult thing I have to do” she replied, “I want to say to people, if I can do this you can do something simpler, meet with each other and talk with each other”.  Gill particularly wants those who fear each other, or just never meet, to talk to each other, and “walk in each other’s shoes”.

The route brought us to Sheffield United Football Club, where former legends like Tony Currie and staff from “Football Against Racism in Europe” [FARE}, came and expressed solidarity.

The walkers moved on to Mount Pleasant Park, Sharrowvale, for a delicious lunch provided and served by Aagrah, the newest Asian Restaurant in Sheffield.  Mohammed Aslam, the Managing Director of Aagrah is part of Gill’s Walk Talk Team and walking to London, supplying refreshments and a support minibus for the entire route.

Perhaps the best way to engage in conversation with friends and strangers is over a meal, and along a walk.

Gill led the walkers on to Sheffield’s newest, purpose built Mosque, in Abbeydale.  The Mosque was packed with around 1000 worshippers gathered for Friday prayers.  Gill was introduced as one who lost both her legs in the 7/7 Bomb explosions and was invited to address the assembled congregation.  She walked up to the front and said what she was doing and shared her simple message of building good relationship with each other, of learning the art of living peacefully alongside each other. 

Gill then sat down, on a chair provided specially for her, and remained until prayers were concluded in the customary manner of sharing words of peace.

At the close of Prayers members of the Congregation came to Gill and expressed words of sorrow and regret at what had happened to her.  “We are very sorry for what has happened to you.”  These were the words said to Gill Hicks.  Words were accompanied by tears.  These were not empty words. 

It was one of the most powerful and emotional moments of love and forgiveness that I have ever witnessed.

It was also a moment of revelation and inspiration.  The path to forming relationships of respect trust among those who fear each other includes taking steps to forgive each other for the ways we have hurt each other.  Forgiveness is one of the hardest tasks in relationships.  “Sorry” is one of the hardest words to say.

Community tensions are heightened by fear of those who are different from us.  Kate Adie commenting in her book “The kindness of strangers” on the aftermath of 9/11, on her observation and reporting of events worldwide, says that we only become interested in strangers when we come to see them as a threat to us.  This is the world in which we live.  There are fears in our communities, of those who are of another faith, ethnicity or nationality, for example. 

Gill Hicks could have gone around to spread a message of hatred towards the Muslim community.  There are those who use fears to create hatred and hostility in our multi ethnic, multi faith communities.   

I came to walk and talk with Gill Hicks fresh from the Government launch of the “Face to Face and Side by Side” strategy, which Hazel Blears MP described as “a framework for a partnership in our multi faith society”.  The framework aims to create more opportunities for face to face dialogue along with side by side collaborative social action.  It’s about increasing our understanding of each other and coming together to share time, energy and skills to improve local neighbourhoods.

The Walk/Talk initiative is one very good example of what we can all do.  Gill says she is doing the most difficult thing for her, walk, to bring neighbours together.  In one day her walk brought people together in Parks, Streets, a Football Club and a Worship Centre.  In different environments she is creating opportunities for people who do not normally meet and talk with each other to do so.  It is possible to challenge political and religious extremism.  We can build a better and shared future together through conversation with each other. 

July 2008                

What if?

What if?  by poet laureate Andrew Motion adorns the side of a Hallam University building. Written for the 2007 ‘Off The Shelf ‘literature festival.

From the Sheffield Telegraph 01 November 2007:

Travellers to and from Sheffield rail station took a longer look than normal at the side of Hallam University’s Owen Building on Wednesday afternoon.

A light show playing on the wall revealed a 131 feet tall poem, What If?, by Poet Laureate Andrew Motion, who was in Sheffield for the unveiling.

In the past, the royal poet has written several poems to mark events ranging from Prince William’s 21st birthday to the Paddington rail disaster.

He has also written poems displayed on the Underground in London, and in several parks. However, the poem now on the wall of the Owen Building, part of Hallam’s central campus overlooking Howard Street, is the most conspicuous he has been commissioned to do, he said.

It was part of the Off the Shelf’s literary festival’s Text and the City project, which has already unveiled public art poems around Sheffield.

Andrew Motion was commissioned to write something to attract travellers on their way to and coming back from the station.

He said he was never in doubt that he should take on the project.

“I have honorary degrees from both Hallam University and the University of Sheffield. This was my chance to give something back to Sheffield,” he said.

The poem reflects arrival in a new city and the surprises and opportunities it can offer. “I wanted to say something about what someone arriving in this city would feel.

Paul Swales, the public arts consultant who has coordinated all of Text and the City’s public art projects in Sheffield, said it took two weeks and two teams of workers to put the large poem on the wall.

Listen to the poem whatif