Standing inside the circle is like being held in a giant pair of hands. The sculptor expresses the Ten Commandments as fingers – warm, personal, inviting – suggesting that God’s law is an invitation to relationship with him and with others. Jesus validated this by stating that the whole law is summed up as to love God wholeheartedly, and to love our neighbour as ourselves – love being the essence of relationship.

Since the Reformation, during which large numbers of religious refugees were welcomed here, Geneva has become known as a city of peace, of welcome, and of international diplomacy – seeking to improve relationships between nations and peoples.

The arresting contrast between the inner and outer edges of each pillar suggests there is something inherent, not arbitrary, about the dual consequences of law: a reward for those who live by it, and a warning of inevitable consequences for those who choose to live outside it – and not just when caught! An invitation to ethical reflection might be to consider: where is my life, or the organisation I work for, or my nation, in relationship to different facets of God’s law, and what are the consequences, both positive and negative?

Calvin taught the universality of God’s law: prince and pauper, aristocrat and artisan, were all equally subject to the rule of law. This curbed the power of kings and paved the way for democratic forms of government to develop in Europe, North America and beyond.

The sculpture invites us to consider two views of freedom. The first is individualistic and autonomous: I choose my beliefs and values, and live my life just as I want (~ we are at liberty to walk in and out of the circle of pillars). The second is the freedom to seek the common good, and live at peace with our neighbour – which means accepting some limits to personal freedoms (~ the ten columns are like fence posts, creating and protecting a space for liberty and flourishing.)

Historians have called Calvin the “pioneer of the freedom of conscience and human rights”. The philosopher Rousseau, also from Geneva, credited Calvin for his role in shaping the city’s laws, while Rene Cassin, co-author of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, contrasted the 1948 Declaration favourably with the Decalogue.

The sheer size and weight of the columns reflects the significance of the Decalogue as a foundation for society, one that has stood the test of time and the evolution of civilisations. When institutions collapse – a failed state, a broken marriage, a banking system close to meltdown – the Decalogue invites us to hope by drawing us to this set of timeless foundations for wise and good institutions.

Calvin argued that the Decalogue reflects natural law, and thus provides a universal framework for justice and ethics. In his time, Geneva faced many struggles – political, social, religious, economic – and Calvin sought to respond to them all from the perspective of biblical principles. 500 years later Geneva continues to grapple with global concerns, and the invitation/decalogue sculpture offers a place for reflection and inspiration for all those who are passionate for justice and development today.