A dream of peace.

Peace Sunday

Dr Barbara A Peddie.

Today is Peace Sunday. And as this year has ground on, with one disaster following another, the notion of peace seems more and more like an impossible dream. Outside our islands there is war and destruction in many countries. Here in Aotearoa the violence between groups of people who think differently, never mind what the issue is,  seems to be growing more and more dangerous. What good can we do, sitting here on a Sunday morning, and asking God for peace?

Of course, we turn our attention, and our hopes and dreams, to what’s happening in the world around us every Sunday. It’s our duty – our calling – to turn our thoughts to the world around us and pray for the good of all creation. It just seems, on a day like today, that whatever we do hasn’t had much of an impact – if any. Maybe we should stick to the lectionary and forget about this special Sunday?

Peace in our world is a very rare gift. Of course, some governments say: ‘we will have peace’ without putting anything in place to achieve it. And what they are really saying is, our nation will go about its daily life in safety, never mind what’s happening out there. What they don’t acknowledge is that unilateral peace comes at a high price.  Consider the reaction to terrorist outrages. Governments say: ‘We will root out terrorism.’ They don’t usually add: – ‘and we won’t necessarily be too dainty in the methods we use for doing so’, but in practice, that’s what often happens. As a result, a climate of fear builds up, and fear breeds violence, and violence breeds revenge – and so the cycles of war continue.

‘For heaven’s sake, let’s have peace at any price!’ How often have you heard that phrase or something very much like it? And how often do you stop and think about what it really means? How high a price are we prepared to pay? And for whose sake? Usually, if we’re honest, for our own sake. Most of us, given a choice, would avoid conflict if we possibly could. There are a few rare people whose outlook on life is such that they choose to sail into an argument with all banners flying – but they’re a minority.

There are huge problems in our world, and we’re bound to pray for peace, this Sunday and every other day. But let’s start where we are, here and now, and consider how we make peace in our own lives.

‘Peace at any price.’ It’s the sort of thing we sometimes say when there’s a family squabble round the dinner table, or a toddler having a meltdown. ‘Let’s have some peace and quiet around here.’ A harmless-seeming request – a reasonable request even. But do we really mean it? Especially, do we really mean it when there are more serious issues at stake. If there’s dissension in the family – or in the congregation, where’s the bottom line for us in re-establishing peace and tranquillity? Remember the stories we’ve heard about families wrestling with different views about vaccination. The price can be high at times – what are we prepared to give?

If we go blindly ahead on our instincts –our gut reactions, there are at least two wrong paths we can take. We might react in the way children often do – we might want to get our own back. I’ve remember a children’s story about group of youngsters who decided to earn themselves a fortune by forming an ‘Own Back Society.’ Doing it on commission that is. The story is about the way they learn that ‘getting your own back’ can backfire, and that there are better ways forward. I suspect that many of us can harbour wishes – even if they’re small, mild wishes, that those who harm us will get their comeuppance. How many of us heard in our young days, that school playground phrase –‘My big brother – or sister – will get you!’ (That’s one disadvantage of being the eldest sibling!) Harm has been done, and we want revenge – the old idea of ‘an eye for an eye.’

Children aren’t the only ones who can relate to that scenario. When we get older, it’s a natural reaction to want our perceived enemies to be discomforted in some way. Taken to extremes, whole countries can get sucked into this one – we’ve got plenty of examples of this going on in the world today. And the many can pay a very high price indeed for the revenge of the few. Can we learn another way?

The other wrong path we sometimes take is to smooth everything over, and carry on as if the harmful event never happened. Being ‘nice’ – being polite and saying ‘it really doesn’t matter.’ That’s a bit like putting sticking plaster over a cut without washing the dirt off first. And we’re lying through our teeth because it does matter, and we‘re going to go on remembering that it matters. I’ve got a fridge magnet that says ‘carrying a grudge is harmful to your health’ – and the grudge is a thumping great hairy monster. It’s a high price to pay for peace.

These two paths can be put in another way. A long time ago I read that we all tend towards one of two reactions when faced with hurt or trouble – we are skunk or tortoise.  (You can guess it was an American book – but we get the picture.) The skunk broadcasts its reaction indiscriminately. The tortoise hunkers down into its shell and won’t move. I can’t speak for the skunk, because I know that my preferred animal of these two is the tortoise. My instinct is to retreat – and to brood, and to carry the grudge around with me. But the price of this sort of reaction is a residue of bitterness, and a reluctance to let go. And also, a tendency to play scenes over again in my head – often in the middle of the night – and think: ‘now that’s what I should have said, or done.’

I know Jesus taught forgiveness. I remember his words to Peter on that – seventy times seven. That doesn’t always mean that the four hundred and ninetieth time will necessarily be any easier than the first. It does mean keeping on trying. There’s a very good reason why we use the Lord’s Prayer so often – we all need reminding.

Where do we find our better way? We might remember that in the beatitudes, the saying dealing with peace begins: ‘Blessed are the peacemakers.’ Whatever Jesus meant by peace, it wasn’t anything passive. Jesus continually faced conflict, and he did indeed face it.  True, he sometimes withdrew. But he didn’t go away and brood over the wrongs – he went apart to renew his strength by prayer and communion with God. To have a part in the peace of God we have to do something about it – we have to put energy into it. We might also remember the other saying that speaks of God’s peace as not being like the world’s peace. So, yes, in a sense, there is a price to pay for peace, and it’s our choice what sort of a price we give. How can we, in our place and time, claim the blessing of being peacemakers?

Conflict can’t be resolved without honesty. But it’s not enough just to speak the truth as we see it. That can simply make matters worse at times. If that’s the only word spoken, no one feels particularly loved as a result. There needs to be the other part of the conversation – the part that says, ‘what can I do about it?’ or, ‘how can we work this out together?’ If we’re going to be serious about bringing God’s peace into this life, we have to speak truth with love and compassion

And, of course, when we’re at least partly to blame in any conflict situation, we have to overcome that part of us that finds it hard to admit that we’re wrong. We have to be able to say that we’re wrong, and ask for compassion from the other – and from God. That’s sometimes even harder than being the one who offers it!

We don’t all have the same gifts. Some who have a special gift and calling for peacemaking  – for initiating conflict resolution and for mediating. Some will have a special gift for being peacekeepers – and that includes working to reform unjust institutions. Some will be better at peacebuilding – education, reconstruction, and reconciliation – building on foundations laid by others. But we can all learn some of it. I don’t believe that we stay in the place of the characteristics we were born with. I don’t believe either that what we call altruism is just a survival technique for our species – I don’t go along with Richard Dawkins’ theory of the selfish gene – and neither do you, or you wouldn’t be here!) I do believe that part of moving in God’s realm is that we go on learning to be more and more the people we are meant to be. Growing in spirituality and understanding is pretty near the top of the list. Just remember that, for any faith community, that’s much wider than personal growth – we’re in this together!

We need to affirm hope for our world. We need to make Christ’s anger at injustice and inhumanity, poverty and destruction, hatred and violence our anger. We affirm that we can act – we are called to act – with Jesus as our companion and co-worker, and that everyone can do something. We don’t sit about and wait for the ‘right person’ to act. We affirm that our dreams for liberation, justice and peace are rooted in this world and nowhere else. We said all that – now we have to go and live it.

I once heard Arun Gandhi (Mahatma Gandhi’s grandson) and Lawrence Edward Carter, a Black Baptist theologian, speak about non-violence and peace. Here’s what caught my attention most of all. Gandhi said, we have to pay attention to the acts of passive violence we all commit, and work hard at overcoming them. Non-violence means that we treat every other person we meet with understanding, and compassion, and love and respect.

Carter said, in the first sermon Jesus preached he said: ‘the kingdom of God is within you.’ Jesus lived his whole life in that knowledge. But Christians don’t believe it. We go on acting as if God’s kingdom is ‘out there’ somewhere. If we did believe that, we’d recognise and own the divine in ourselves, and in every other person we encountered, and how could we then act with violence towards any?

It’s all there in the gospel. Jesus said that the bread of life is already here for the sharing. We don’t need to ask God to be with us – there is no place where God is not. We have to take the step of faith and acknowledge that God is with us – with all of us. Thanks be to God. Amen.