Peace and the Alternatives
We all want peace. What do we mean?
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The song “War” hit the top of the charts in the summer of 1970. It asks and answers the question: “War. What is it good for? Absolutely nothing, say it again.” It is a catchy song, but it’s rise up the charts coincided with the Vietnam war raging on and the accompanying anti-war movement ramping up. It became an anthem of protests and marches and all sorts of other cultural happenings until the last helicopter lifted from the U.S. Embassy in Saigon in 1975. The anti-war movement has been with us, off and on, in the years since then - as the wars in Kuwait, Iraq, and Afghanistan have been with us for so many of those years. It is a unique movement in that very few, or perhaps not even that, would claim to be pro-war. But is being anti-war the same as being pro-peace? Of course, if peace is defined as the absence of war then it is axiomatic - anti-war = pro-peace. Is it that simple? What is peace?
We have heard the phrase “no justice, no peace” proclaimed in marches and demonstrations decrying racial injustice, or police overreach, and the like. We understand at some level that living with injustice - at least at a certain level - falls short of what we would describe as true peace. We may also agree that fighting against or reducing injustice may be a necessary precondition for a true peace.
Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they will be called children of God
Matthew 5:9
In Ukraine, war broke out in February of 2022. Or, if you ask lots of people in Ukraine, they would tell you that the peace was broken in 2014 when Russia annexed and marched troops into the Crimea, a region lying within the (at the time) borders of Ukraine. We don’t count that because, I guess, Ukraine largely didn’t fight back (and so it didn’t really jump into our news feeds) - but lots of people there don’t count it as peace, either. Of course, war broke out between Israel and Gaza on October 7 of last year when fighters from Hamas stormed from Gaza into southern Israel. We count this as a war on the same sort of level as the wars in Israel in 1967 and 1973 because actual troops from both sides are killing each other. But lots of people in Israel and Gaza would not have really called what came before as “peace.” Rockets regularly have flown into Israel from both Gaza and Lebanon countless times in the years since those times - not to mention the First Intifada in the late 1980’s and early 1990’s or the Second Intifada in the early 2000’s. During those times, in particular, Israeli parents often refrained from sending more than one child on the same bus fearing that a single bombing would take more than one of their children.
In light of what came before each of these current wars, and what has come since, how are we to think of the war in Ukraine and the war in Palestine now? And, how do we separate our thoughts on these conflicts from our own political views and cultural alliances? (As an aside, it is strange to consider how Americans talk about these wars - or any war in another part of the world … as if we could stop them or that they are somehow mostly about us. But that is just an aside.) If we take ourselves as Americans, of whatever political or cultural persuasion, out of the equation - what do we think of these conflicts? Or, what does it mean to be at peace in these places? Or, more to the point, what does peace mean for a resident of Ukraine? of Gaza? of Israel? What are the necessary preconditions? How do we follow Jesus’ teachings to be a peace maker in these places - or in any place? What are we praying for when we pray for peace?
Let’s consider an example closer to home. Which is, I think, something Jesus has in mind with this teaching. Let’s consider a home somewhere close to you, perhaps in your neighborhood, where every day consists of emotional and verbal abuse - while it is absent any physical violence. Can it be said that there is peace in this home? In the sense Jesus intends? In any real sense? What does a peace maker recommend for such homes? Many pastors and priests of an earlier era (and some of the present era) might counsel the object of this abuse to stay in that situation, perhaps even counseling them to keep the peace because God hates divorce. I believe that God hates divorce, for any number of reasons, but it isn’t the only thing He hates. Staying or leaving or what to do isn’t an easy question to answer and I am not trying to answer it here - I am simply trying to illustrate that a home marked by abuse and injustice can’t, at least in my view, be called a home of peace. One who seeks to be a peace maker in this home must, somehow, begin to address the injustice. Some attempt to address the harm, loss, and injustice is a necessary precondition to peace. Here and everywhere.
What does a citizen of Ukraine need for peace? What about a citizen of Russia? or Israel? or Gaza? What are the necessary preconditions? Answering these questions depends on what you think justice means for these people and these places. We will disagree, perhaps, but it is the right question for us to consider. When people in these places or outside of them pray for peace, what are they praying for? What should they be praying for? What is peacemaking here? Will we ever have it?
The answer to that last question is yes. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. told us that “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice.” I don’t really agree with Dr. King here, as beautiful as his words are. Dr. King was a ‘post-millennial” theologian, who believed that we would make the world a better place until it reached the point where Christ could return. I am joined by most pastors and theologians that I am aware of in turning away from this post-millennial view of the eschaton. I believe we are called to do the work of the kingdom of God - peacefully working against injustice as part of that work - as I believe that this work of the kingdom can only be accomplished in the eschaton. The ‘eschaton’ is the next age (hence the term eschatology, if you are familiar with it), after this one closes, after Christ returns. Only then will there be full and final judgment for injustice and the righting of wrongs, and the wiping away of our tears. Only then will there be peace. Only then will there be “shalom” - almost certainly the word Jesus used when he told us that those who make peace are blessed. Blessed are those who bring shalom - we are called to work toward it, but we cannot bring it about fully - at least not now.
Shalom means peace and harmony and community and everything being as it should be - extending far beyond the bounds of mere avoidance or absence of conflict. If the shooting stopped today in Ukraine, and everyone froze in place - what many people are calling for - would it be peace? I don’t think so. Would it be as close to peace as we could get in this broken world? Hard to say. If the shooting stopped today in Gaza, would that be peace? Would it be as close as we can get? What should I pray for when I pray for peace? And how am I to be a peace-maker in a world where I don’t believe that ultimate peace, true shalom, is possible for me to bring about?
A peace maker is a person who acts in faith - who acts in faithfulness to the Prince of Peace - the only one who can bring real peace. Will my peacemaking make a difference? Probably not in Ukraine or Gaza, probably not on any grand scale - but maybe in that home near me, or in my own home, or place of work, or church, or community the story would be different. I don’t know (or control) if my faithfulness makes a difference in these places either - except that it will make a difference in me, and, from there, in those close to me. Blessed are the peacemakers does not come with a test to take afterwards to see if you get credit. Faithfully working toward shalom in all the areas of my life is blessed by God. When I seek to be a peace maker, I seek to be used by God to bring peace, His peace. We are called, as always, to trust Him for any outcome that may arise out of our imperfect faithfulness.
And when I pray for peace in Ukraine and Israel and Gaza - I don’t really know what I am praying for. I don’t know what it looks like. I don’t have a recipe. If I had one, I don’t know that God would be terribly eager to hear it, as if He is breathlessly waiting for my solution to peace in the Middle East. Of course. But all prayer is like that. We don’t have a recipe. We have prayer, we have Him, we have faith.
So let’s pray for peace, even if we don’t know what that looks like.
