In Petrelë, the final of the international competition for the Faith Park is taking place—a unique project that aims to create a public space dedicated to interfaith harmony, through nature and spiritual symbolism. Twelve finalist teams, selected from the United Kingdom, Portugal, Denmark, Germany, Spain, Mexico, Belgium, the Netherlands, and Italy, are presenting in the Albanian capital their concepts for this innovative park.
The most renowned international architects will present their ideas before a specialized jury, with the goal of selecting the winning project that will shape this special space. The Faith Park will embody elements from the sacred scriptures—trees, flowers, and fruits with profound symbolism—offering an experience of reflection, coexistence, and intercultural dialogue, in line with Albania’s tradition of religious tolerance.
***
Prime Minister Edi Rama:
First of all, thank you very much for being here today as friends, as bridge-builders, as guardians of memory, as fellow travelers on this earth.
Allow me to begin by saying that for me personally this is a fantastic moment, because for a long time now I have spoken of and eagerly awaited this initiative to find its place and come alive.
Today we are gathered in this place which once was shaped by the harsh language of orders, by divisions of military barracks—a place where uniformity marched far stronger than unity—and where we are now carrying out a transformation thanks to the talent of Kengo Kuma and the perseverance of the Albanian Development Fund.
With hope, very soon we will have the opportunity to open this space, to unfold it for an entirely different purpose, for completely different activities, for talented creative people, and for anyone who visits us and seeks to share in this space.
But more than that, today we are striving to begin something gentler—we are starting to think in concrete terms in the face of dozens of projects for the future of the entire surrounding area, which will become the Faith Park. This is much more than the transformation of a space; I believe it is a meaningful transformation that is not about erasing the past, but about embracing it, serving it. We want to plant trees, we want to plant hope and continuity.
The Faith Park is not a symbol of religion. It is something entirely different: a sanctuary of reverence that does not ask what you believe in, but only invites you to come and marvel at the silent endurance of fig trees, to notice the form of the olive trees in the wind, and to understand what our ancestors understood—that development was not merely a backdrop, it was in fact a sacred text. And in fact, I wish to share with you something it says: “The Lord God planted a garden eastward in Eden, and there He put the man whom He had formed.” And these trees—fig, pomegranate, date palm—were not chosen merely for their beauty, but because they were companions of prophecy. They stood in the shadow of revelation, they grew in the desire and supplication of time, and they became shelter for exile, for mercy, and so forth.
The Qur’an says: “He produces vegetation for cattle and also trees and plants for mankind to use.” Meanwhile, Matthew reminds us that “Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. By their fruits you will know them.” Thus this park is by no means a museum of faith—it is a living scripture, not written in ink but with roots, not with doctrines but with shade, trees, and earth; a space where silence is not the absence of sound but the presence of attention. And naturally, this is a park that embraces beliefs and identities, and in its rather modest dimensions, but with a very powerful statement, it offers a counter-argument: a place where no one is asked which side they stand on—the only question is: Can you still marvel at life?
And we Albanians, for that matter, do not need to invent tolerance, because we have long been born into it, raised by it. Our cities have grown with mosques, churches, tekkes, and monasteries standing side by side. What happened to all of them during that dark period, when with dynamite it was sought to uproot religion from this land, also contained a much greater lesson about why we need tolerance. And of course, as I said, our heritage has not always been easy, but it has been wise—with a wisdom so profound that, rightly, Pope Francis baptized it as religious fraternity. It is the wisdom of living together that is gained, and just as much, it is inertia.
Therefore, this park honors that heritage, but also calls upon us all to move forward. Can we still honor that heritage? Can we recognize the sacred, not only in prayer but also in the patient growth of a tree? It is also an answer to the violence carried out in the name of the sacred, to a culture that forgets to listen, to a generation facing the grave risk of losing spiritual knowledge. And here it says: “When you lay siege to a city… do not destroy its trees by putting an ax to them, because you can eat their fruit. Do not cut them down. Are the trees people, that you should besiege them?” This is Deuteronomy. And in fact, there will be no symbols, no statues of pride, power, or dominion here in this park—only trees and water. For water, too, is sacred. It flows from Eden, it washes hands, and it is used for baptism. It washes its hands before prayer. Water binds us together far more than we think. “Every living thing is made from water,” says the Qur’an. And indeed, being near still waters revives the spirit.
That is why we searched across the world, and thanks to this wonderful “army,” the world responded—from Denmark, Portugal, Britain, Belgium, and the Netherlands, all the way to Mexico, not forgetting the Germans and the Italians who came not to impose, but to listen. An army not seeking to conquer, but to imagine, and to help us all imagine. They brought here their craft, their art, their culture—and perhaps, without even noticing, much more besides.
So, let us enjoy a beautiful day of creativity, and allow me to remind you of something I truly adore from all the sacred scriptures. It is a hadith of the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, who said: “If the Hour (the Day of Judgment) comes while one of you has a seedling in his hand, and if he is able to plant it before the Hour comes, then let him plant it.”
So even if the world were to end today—which, of course, it is not—thinking of how to plant a tree is the best way to face that final hour. Thank you very much!