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Good morning. Eight hundred years ago, in the early autumn of 1219, two lonely figures crossed the Crusader battle lines near to the city of Damietta - their mission, to achieve unarmed and almost single handed what great armies and years of struggle had failed to do, to bring the conflict to an end. When Francis of Assisi had set out on his journey, with just a single companion, his plan was simple: meet the Muslim sultan and persuade him to give up his cause. Some days later, when the two friars retraced their steps, Francis had made something perhaps even more precious than the convert he had hoped for; he had made a friend. There are many Christians around the world today who, like me, take Francis as the model of our faith. On or around this day, the anniversary of his death, we recommit ourselves to his love of all God’s creation and all people. In sultan Malek al-Kamil Francis met a man of very different origins and faith, but every bit his equal in warmth and generosity. In practical terms the meeting was a failure, the wars went on. And yet the story of these two human beings, finding first respect and then friendship, echoes down the centuries. It still has power to inspire women and men to build bridges across deep divides, to trade neither insults nor blows, but to work for mutual understanding. We’ve been hosting a political conference in my city of Manchester this week, along with the fringe events and protests that accompany such occasions. After the recent outpourings of rage and vitriol in Westminster, I was relieved that the temperature, at least for the time being, had cooled down - and not just thanks to a liberal dose of Manchester rain. It’s good to be passionate about what we believe, as both Francis and Malek were, even to get angry. And yet, as the sad events at the police headquarters in Paris yesterday show, there’s a world of difference between being angry in pursuit of some great cause and directing our anger at particular individuals. And when good people, from diverse parties, tell me they can no longer undertake political service because of the threats and hatred directed against them and their families, we need to up our standards. Malek and Francis were doomed to fail in their efforts; they were isolated advocates of peaceful coexistence in a world of vilification and mistrust. Eight centuries have passed since their meeting, yet I believe their valiant effort can guide us to a better outcome in our generation. That our politics, our journalism, our public discourse, can be models of how passion, allied with compassion, can help us make both good decisions and good friends?