IT WAS an extraordinary event, a sight few of us could have expected to see, especially in the bitter aftermath of the failed referendum to reunite our island: a packed church of Ayios Mamas in Morphou, the Byzantine chanting carried through loudspeakers across a city from where it had been banished for 30 years, an extraordinary message of peace, love and reconciliation delivered by a man of the Church that has too often symbolised the division of the island.
The services at Ayios Mamas in Morphou this week have been driven by one man, Bishop Neophytos of Morphou, inspired by his faith and his vision as a Christian leader and inspiring others by his example. When the checkpoints opened last year, he was among the first to cross, not only in a desire to return to the seat of his occupied diocese, but in a desire to reach out to the Turkish Cypriot community and show them a different picture of the Church than that which fed their greatest historic fears. When an impromptu prayer service at Ayios Mamas last year was broken up by the Turkish Cypriot authorities, angry that he had not sought permission to use the ‘museum’ that the church had become, he did not exploit the undoubted political leverage such a televised incident could have given him, but continued to work quietly behind the scenes for a return.
This week, that work paid off in the most spectacular fashion, beaming a striking image of reconciliation across the world. For this was no triumphant return, there were no flags and no tub-thumping sermons about the occupation. What there was, was a sermon of hope, a sermon that acknowledged the discomfort of many in making the journey to a city still under occupation, but looked ahead to the future, and spoke at length on the need for forgiveness. “Forgiving is a virtue and the beginning of peace,” the bishop said. “This is the best guarantee for our country.”
It was also a sermon that acknowledged the suffering of both communities in Cyprus, speaking of the pain and loss of ordinary people from both sides – “some from 1964, others from 1974”. He spoke of Greek and Turkish Cypriots as “common victims of the same destiny”.
Since the referendum, many Turkish Cypriots, embittered by the Greek Cypriot ‘no’, had begun to wonder if there was any point in continuing the struggle for reunification. For the first time, Greek Cypriots responded with a resounding ‘yes’, not through the visits or meetings of politicians, but through a popular demonstration of hope that began to dismantle some of the “inner walls within us” that the bishop alluded to.
This was not a political event – politicians attended but did not speak – but the message that it sent out, that ordinary people can change their destiny and contribute to reconciliation, has lit a beacon of hope for those who are desperate to see the walls come down in Cyprus.
