Former US Ambassador to Malta Douglas Kmiec has written a new book entitled Lift up your hearts – From Malibu to Malta: the importance of faith to public decision and private life which he intends to publish in Malta. The Sunday Times will be serialising excerpts in the new year. Prof. Kmiec explains the motivations for the publication.

A year ago between Christmas and new year, I was at St James Hospital dressed not in Christmas finery, but the usual immodest hospital wear, for the second major operation following the tragic accident that claimed the lives of two of my closest friends, Monsignor John Sheridan and Sister Mary Campbell. The care was excellent, and physically, I am fit enough to cycle most days to my office, a 10-mile round-trip.

The book describes a profound loneliness that challenges my faith, jeopardises my family, and left me asking – upon seeing the deceased monsignor’s name still lit up on my contact list – can one Skype after death?­- Douglas Kmiec

Spiritually and emotionally, the road is longer and has been a real test of faith. Without the prayers of thousands in Malta, including a group of indefatigable Salesian nuns in Gozo, especially Sister Rose Oliveri, whose monthly novenas continue, I very much doubt my ability to withstand the haunting recollections.

As for publishing in Malta, it is a small redress for my unwanted early departure precipitated by some unfortunate criticism of my personal expressions of faith, which I could no more disguise than my fondness for pastizzi, hobza tal Malti, or over in Gozo, ftira Għawdxija.

Launching the book in Malta, with all the proceeds going to support the charitable works of the Church in memory of John and Mary, for me reaffirms the importance of inter-faith diplomacy and finding ways to accommodate a wider range of faith belief – likely the issue most needed to be resolved well if the emerging democracies of North Africa are to be successful.

US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton’s recent visit to Malta conveyed America’s appreciation for Malta’s humanitarian and exemplary role in the world’s hope that democratic institutions can be engineered to respect people of all faith beliefs and reasonable practices without going down the path of secularism, which as Pope Benedict XVI has so thoughtfully reminded, denies the truth of the human person.

It was a pleasure for me to give the Secretary a detailed brief of these issues together with many others related to our shared interest in upgrading the security of sea and air routes to keep all safe from the scourge of trafficking in drugs, people, or illicit armaments.

Barack Obama and his closest faith advisers described my appointment as one having the “special presidential logic” of making explicit faith-based inquiries into ascertaining the comparative knowledge of faiths in schools in the EU and the US and exploring how faith might be constructively engaged in the resolution of conflict. In part, the book makes a case for completing that mission.

However, there is much more. The book is positive, and like faith, one of hope. The volume mentions many Maltese citizens who were of direct assistance in diplomatic work of life-saving importance, like James Satariano and Frances Portelli, who put a rather expensive catamaran at risk to rescue American embassy personnel and other foreign nationals from Tripoli.

While the list of Maltese officials and private citizens helping in those anxious days multiplied quickly, many others deserve note from Father Michael Agius at the Sanctuary of Divine Mercy, who introduced me to the extraordinary talent of Joseph Calleja, to Father Hilary Tagliaferro at the Millennium Chapel, who over a couple of fine malts tried his best to explain Italian politics to me and my visiting older brother (who by the way, is much older than me, and at 65 has just retired from the university hospital to head for the sub-Saharan Africa with the Peace Corps); and Father George at the San Anton Chapel where my Maltese had to work hard overtime to keep even with his homiletic instruction, but where I always felt doubly welcome and blessed to worship next to George Abela’s mother who also helped with my Maltese as she kept a loving eye on her son, your esteemed President, and your lovely first lady, Margaret.

I don’t know how many diplomats are permitted to say this, but since a few crafty bureaucrats in Washington arranged for my early retirement, I am uninhibited in declaring that I shall be forever grateful for the association with Abela, whom I shall always count as a good friend well beyond my years of service. If the nations of the world could interact with the friendship we share, there would be no conflict incapable of it is filled with humour and pathos.

It recounts my physical survival of the accident, but a growing and profound loneliness that challenges my faith, jeopardises my family, and left me asking – upon seeing the deceased monsignor’s name still lit up on my contact list – can one Skype after death?

While the Skype phone in heaven has yet to pick up, the book assembles what might fairly be called Mgr John’s Theology of Kindness. Being faced simultaneously with the struggle to surmount loneliness and grief with a choice between faith and prestigious position, gave the theology a real test drive.

And with the theology out of the spiritual garage, the book explores how to transcend the politics of hate and division, and meet the real challenge of loving our enemies.

There is common ground to be found and inter-faith dialogue to be undertaken. As it does, stereotypes fall away, truth emerges over false narrative, and potentials become greater, putting aside mistakenly imposed gender roles and opening men and women to an intimacy un-cheapened by modern vulgarity.

The year 2012 beckons and the challenges remain great. Unlike the hollow claims of freedom unhinged from moral reality, the book in its initial reviews has proven to be a source of inspiration, especially for University students, who, at the moment, confront unemployment, as well as economies ill-prepared to offer lives of service, rather than just material consumption.

Kindness cannot avoid all conflict in our lives, and the book lays bare one I now share with all those who have lost a loved one in war or in some other tragic and untimely fashion.

Frankly, some of what we call conflict within us is just plain anger, and God tends to get a fair number of questions about unjust suffering. But there is another battle waiting to be fought which kindness does not exempt us from.

The unexpected deaths of my saintly friends permitted me to see something I previously belittled: the battle within and without us with the devil, himself. It’s the Book of Job, double or nothing, and with satire and seriousness reminiscent of that found in C.S. Lewis’ The Screwtape Letters, I put old Beelzebub on notice.

In the end, what emerges is a continuation of the story of Christmas, itself: human life with all of its doubts and tragedies, lifted up by faith and friendship. On this day especially, the book’s message is that of the birth of the Christ child who comes with the straightforward instruction to love God and neighbour, and by that kindly means offers victory over death, itself.