Rev. Kelly Fassett shares reflections from her recent trip to Northern Ireland, where she saw the quiet courage of reconciliation in a land torn by religious and political violence. From walking the Peace Walls, to meeting faith leaders who have given their lives to forge friendships across enemy lines, Kelly explores what these lessons mean for the American Church today.
“A divided Church has little or nothing to offer towards leading a divided people into the way of peace.” —Fr. Gerry Reynolds, Priest at Clonard Monastery in West Belfast
Last month, I had the incredible privilege of traveling to Northern Ireland with a group of fellow Americans in a cohort with Global Immersion. We had traveled there to study peacebuilding efforts in a country marked by decades of violent conflict. It was there where I learned a new word: “themens”— Irish slang for “them.” It’s a word of suspicion and othering, and a posture of inner hostility towards “those people.”
We first heard it in Divis, from Steven Hughes, pastor of St. Peter’s Youth Center. We had spent the morning walking along the Peace Walls—some of them up to 21 miles long and 20 feet high—originally built to reduce violence between Irish nationalists and British unionists.
We learned that between 1968 and 1998, in a period that came to be known as The Troubles, there were more than 3,700 people killed and 50,000 injured in a series of bombings and shootings throughout Northern Ireland. This particular stretch of the walls was known as “Murder Mile,” where much of the violence was concentrated between two groups of people divided by their religious and nationalist identities: mainly Catholics on one side and Protestants on the other. While the physical violence has dissipated, as you walk along these walls, mural after mural stand like tall scars declaring, “you must never forget.”
In the youth center, Pastor Steven began to share his story. He had grown up in the worst of it—seeing bombs explode and friends killed, even as a six-year-old. “Bombs and shells were as common as bird songs,” he told us.
Yet witnessing that violence is what drew him to youth ministry. Even after the 1998 Good Friday Agreement, which ended decades of violence by establishing a power-sharing government and recognizing both British and Irish identities, the walls had to be made taller because people kept throwing objects over them.
But Steven believed reconciliation was possible: “It’s hard to throw stones at someone you know,” he said. His mission? To create space for young people from both sides of the wall to meet and grow up together.
Building Friendships Across the Wall
Steven partnered with a Presbyterian pastor named Tracy that he had met from the Shankle community on the other side of the wall. It took them eight years to build enough trust to start a joint youth group, where youth from both communities began meeting weekly, alternating between centers. They taught a holistic curriculum, including Christian values, trauma healing, leadership principles, and upholding human dignity.
Pastor Steven leads the Ambassadors for Peace Programme, which has 33 young people from the two communities.
This joint effort began to change the local community. Steven described that formerly, twenty five to thirty youth per year from this neighborhood were ending up in jail. Now, that number has dropped to just one every four years. Where only 3% of the community had a degree, that number has risen to 10%.
“There Are No Walls in Heaven”
Over ten days, I heard this theme repeated: reconciliation happens through relationships. At Clonard Monastery, a red-brick Catholic church just steps from the peace walls, we heard about “Unity Pilgrims,” an intentional initiative pioneered by Fr. Gerry Reynolds for Catholics to regularly visit other Christian denominations’ services to build friendships and cross-denominational understanding.
Fr. Gerry believed, “A divided Church has little or nothing to offer towards leading a divided people into the way of peace. In the Northern Ireland conflict, divided churches have cost lives.” He often repeated the phrase, “the walls of separation do not reach to heaven.”
Prayer cards about the Unity Pilgrims from Clonard Monastery
At Black Mountain Shared Space, a community center built on the fault line between divided neighborhoods in West Belfast, we met Shamus (Catholic) and Mark (Protestant), who decades ago were literally shooting at one another, yet had a reckoning when they realized they wanted their children to grow up in a different type of world. Shamus described that what changed him is “trust, and relationship with someone on the other side.”
We then traveled to Corymeela, a retreat center on the beautiful northern coast of Ireland, which was founded as a safe place for encounter, meeting and dialogue. Here, we engaged in a four-day Dialogue for Peaceful Change training and met another peacebuilder, Rev. Harold Good. Harold had played an influential role in convening opposing parties during the Troubles towards the decommissioning of weapons. He gave us simple but profound advice: “Activate your kitchen table. Talk, truth, trust, and tea—these are the ingredients of peace. Build trust one person at a time, then bring them together over a cup of tea.” Listen to his humble wisdom below.
I felt so honored to meet some of Ireland’s most renowned peacebuilders. From left to right: Rev. Harold Good, Colin Craig, Rev. Shona Bell.
What About Us?
As I reflect on the experience, I am holding a lot. I confess that what I saw in this conflict in Northern Ireland feels like it could be a window into America’s future, just as much as it is a mirror of America’s painful legacy of exclusion and violence. I see us early on in the conflict cycle we learned about, with widening ideological siloes and growing vitriol, marginalized groups being scapegoated, governmental power being used to intimidate and coerce, and underlying tensions that at times are erupting into violence.
I’m learning that reconciliation isn’t just about physical walls—it’s about the walls we build inside. Pastor Steven reminded us: “When you talk about ‘themens,’ remember you’ve got three fingers pointing back at yourself. It’s not something that happens out there, but ‘in here,’” and he pointed right to his heart.
He’s right: the real work lies in removing “themens” not just from our language, but from our hearts—because once we label someone as “other,” it becomes all too easy to dehumanize them, mistreat them, demonize them, and ultimately justify violence against them. UniteBoston is calling this inward posture of hostility “righteous hubris,” and has identified it as one of the main barriers to Christian unity and the oneness Jesus calls us Christians to embody.
Many leaders we met went from perpetrating violence to building peace because they had lost loved ones and didn’t want the conflict to endure into perpetuity, especially for the sake of future generations. I kept wondering – What will it take to turn America around? How might we learn to love – or at least respect – the person on the other side of the wall?
A Revolutionary Teaching: Enemy Love
What if we took seriously one of Jesus’ most radical teachings—not just to love those who are like us, but to love even our enemies (Matthew 5:43–44)? As Dan White Jr. puts it, “Enemy-love is not peripheral to the way of Jesus—it is the very center. If your version of Christianity does not compel you to move toward your enemy with empathy and curiosity, it may not be Christianity at all.”
In Christ, hostility is torn down. Righteous hubris removed. Republican and Democrat, Jew and Gentile—there are no “themens” in the kingdom of God. When we root our belief and actions in the imago Dei—that every person is made in the image of God and carries inherent dignity and worth—we’re invited to see others not as adversaries, but as beloved siblings.
What if we truly saw each person that way? I am beloved. You are beloved. We are beloved. How might the world change if we recognized God’s image in those we fear or oppose, and understood that ultimately what affects them also affects us? (1 Corinthians 12:25–26). That’s the kind of church the world is longing to see.
The peace walls are lined with graffiti, but this woman is working with the St. Peter’s Youth Centre to create this 3D mural with Scripture on it, a visible witness of the transformative power of the gospel to turn ashes into beauty (Is. 61:3).
A Final Word from Pastor Steven
Before we left, I asked Pastor Steven what advice he’d give us as Americans. He paused, then said:
“Get rid of your guns. Fight for relationship with the person who is ‘the other.’ Because you don’t want to have decades to clean up the mess.”
His words were simple, yet profound—a challenge not just to disarm physically, but spiritually. In a world so quick to divide, label, and defend, Pastor Steven reminded us that the path of peace begins with relationship. It begins with choosing to see the humanity in those we’ve called “the other.” Who might that person be for you?
In these tenuous times, we don’t have decades to wait. Let us walk with Jesus and one another to pursue reconciliation and forging friendships across lines of difference, in our neighborhoods, our churches, and our own hearts.
And so, we pray:
Lord Jesus,
who on the eve of your death,
prayed that all your disciples may be one
as you in the Father and the Father in you,
make us feel intense sorrow over the infidelity of our disunity.
Give us the honesty to recognise,
and the courage to reject,
whatever indifference towards one another,
or mutual distrust,
or even enmity,
lie hidden within us.
Enable us to meet one another in you.
And let your prayer for the unity of Christians,
be ever in our hearts and on our lips,
unity such as you desire and by the means that you will.
Make us find the way that leads to unity in you,
who are perfect charity
through being obedient to the Spirit of love and truth.
Amen.
— Fr Gerry Reynolds, who wrote this prayer for the Unity Pilgrims, inspired by the work of Fr Paul Couturier (1881-1953), a strong believer in the power of praying for Christian unity; and Brother Charles of Jesus (Blessed Charles de Foucauld, 1858-1916), who was martyred when living as a hermit in the Algerian Sahara.
Practical Next Steps
- If the Church has been part of the problem, then it must be part of the solution. This is the heart of our work at UniteBoston—we seek to stand as a public witness to our churches and city, demonstrating that the Way of Jesus is to cross divides and seek out the Imago Dei of all our neighbors across typical lines of difference. We’re launching the Beloved Community Lab this fall—an experiential pilot cohort for Boston-based Christian leaders to learn and grow together as ambassadors of reconciliation. If this stirs up something in you, please prayerfully consider this opportunity and/or share it with a pastoral leader you know. Click here to learn more about the Beloved Community Lab.
- I highly recommend listening to this powerful sermon where my colleague Megan Lietz from Abundant Life Church preached last month from Acts 11 on the uniting work of God to bridge cultural and religious boundaries.
- In our polarized climate, violence in thought and action can show up in surprising places – It is vital that we pastor the instincts in our own hearts in order to follow Jesus as the Prince of Peace. I want to offer this blog as a transparent reflection and spiritual practice inviting us as followers of Jesus to do the hard work of examining what lies beneath.
- Last, I recommend this blog about turning enemies into friends by my friend and colleague Lexi Carver, who shares incredible wisdom from her time in Northern Ireland and Clonard Monestary about how the Church can be a force for peacebuilding rather than violence.
Thank you for this, Kelly!