Cometh the hour. Cometh the man. Twice in the past year the spontaneous responses of two men to awful tragedy have resonated with public opinion in a way that is rare in these islands. The first was British Prime Minister Tony Blair's reaction to the news of Princess Diana's death, in which he dubbed her "the people's Princess". The second was just last Sunday when the Rev William Bingham told his congregation in Pomeroy, Co Tyrone: "I'm not ashamed to say that I wept as I heard of the loss of three little boys in Ballymoney . . . I have to say this: that after last night's atrocious act, a 15-minute walk down the Garvaghy Road by the Orange Order would be a very hollow victory."
Both men will be forever associated with both events, but of the two the more courageous was William Bingham. He was not simply expressing a personal view which would soon become the public mind. He was breaking ranks with longtime comrades and giving lonely leadership in a circumstance where that was guaranteed to cost him. He led a way where political and church leaders soon would follow. It has cost him. He is considered a pariah by former colleagues. They dragged him by his collar from the Orange parade in Pomeroy last Monday and threw him into a ditch. Later, during the prayer service, he was publicly castigated by Mr Joel Patton of the Spirit of Drumcree group. But if ever a man could be measured by the quality of his enemies it is William Bingham. That he should have alienated those he has says more about him than any fine words he might utter, however moving and true.
William Bingham is from Markethill in Co Armagh, the same town as Seamus Mallon. His father worked for Fane Valley creameries in Armagh. His mother was a schoolteacher.
He was a devout youngster, who would preach to himself and anyone who would listen from the age of six. So he has told friends. From a very early age too he had felt called to the ministry. He was ordained in January 1990 after taking a BD at the Presbyterian Church's Union Theological College in Belfast. Before that he had taken an honours history degree at Queen's University.
His Protestantism is of the firmly evangelical kind, though tempered by a natural humanity. One former colleague recalls: "I always found him a very compassionate young man, very people-centred, with an experience beyond his years. He could be absolutely trusted . . . totally committed to his faith."
Another senior colleague said: "I can't express how highly I think of him. He is an absolutely genuine fellow, a very humble Christian fellow and yet as we see from this [his sermon last Sunday] a very courageous fellow. He is very much the acceptable face of evangelical Protestant Orangeism." He has always been associated with the Orange Order. Speaking to a New Dialogue fringe meeting at the British Labour Party conference in 1997 he recalled: "My first experience in the Orange Order was on parade with my family on the Twelfth of July 1969 in Markethill, Co Armagh . . . I was five years of age, hand in hand with an elderly uncle." The order, he said, "stresses the values of family and community. It brings together the past, the present, and the future, grandparents, parents and children, as part of the one tradition, strengthening the family, enhancing respect and toleration between the generations when there is much in society to pull them apart".
And whereas Orangeism, he said, is committed to reformed Christianity (Protestantism) "that is not to say by definition that a true Orangeman is in any way antagonistic towards Catholics or people of other faiths." Quoting from Qualifications of an Orange- man, he read that: "An Orangeman should abstain from all uncharitable words, actions or sentiments towards Roman Catholics."
It was a theme he returned to in his sermon last Sunday. The attack on the Quinn home in Ballymoney was "exactly the opposite of what Orangeism stands for. It is anathema to Orangeism and it ought to be so", he said.
William Bingham's sermon last Sunday was not a rare courageous act. Colleagues recall that he has brought spiritual comfort to parishioners in circumstances few others would risk, trusting simply that God would look after him. He has officiated at the funerals of six of his parishioners killed by the IRA. Most were members of the security forces. He has been outspoken at the funerals and is frequently praised for his warmth in dealing with the bereaved. He has received death threats from republicans. It has meant he and his family have had to move out of their house in Pomeroy a number of times.
It was the deaths of parishioners, but above all their bereaved, which created such a crisis of conscience for him over the issue of prisoner release during the recent referendum and election campaigns in the North. He was a `soft No' in both instances, a position possibly helped by his friendship with the UUP MP Jeffrey Donaldson.
In recent weeks he has, as he did in previous years, been central to attempts to find a solution to the Drumcree crisis. He met Tony Blair at Downing Street on the Monday before the parade. He had also requested that the Parades Commission delay announcing its decision. He felt that once the announcement was made both sides would take up intransigent positions, making negotiations impossible. That is what happened. After meeting Tony Blair again last Thursday week he sounded a firm warning against violence and talk of "paralysing the province". It was hardly surprising then he should have been consistent last Sunday morning. What was striking was the simple sincerity of it all.
"On Thursday, having visited the Prime Minister, in a television interview I said that no road is worth a life - let alone three lives of three innocent little boys," he said. Having one "innocent little boy" himself he needed look no further than his own home to realise the enormity of what had happened in Ballymoney a few hours earlier.
