November 5, 2020

Sharing from the Congregation – David Petty

They have treated the wound of my people carelessly, saying, “Peace, peace,” when there is no peace. — Jeremiah 6:14

Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth?  No, I tell you, but rather division. — Luke 12:51

A lot is being written about peace these days (there usually is).  This time most of it seems to have less to do with international peace than with domestic peace — specifically, all the issues that the media, at least, see as a conflict between police and African Americans. There is a great irony about peace: almost everybody wants it, but after centuries of trying we don’t seem to be any closer.

The church has a standard answer on the subject of peace, but for the next few paragraphs I want to take another perspective.  I realize that in presenting this “alternate view” I am oversimplifying, but I still think it’s worth discussing.

The church’s standard answer is that what it offers is something other than worldly peace; it offers “inner peace,” a peace “that passes all understanding.”  There’s a lot of truth in that, in the sense that this type of peace is far more important than any other kind.  The reality, though, is that we rarely achieve this kind of peace either.  For most of us most of the time, this “surpassing” peace is as difficult to attain as any other sort.  In addition, there is danger that a focus on our own inner peace can deteriorate into an indifference to the needs of our brothers and sisters.

Consider the apostle Paul.  Paul alleged that he had learned to be content in any circumstance.  I’m sure he was telling the truth in regard to his own well-being.  But if his letters are any indication, he was riddled with anxiety about his friends and the fate of the churches.

The English poet Gerard Manley Hopkins, who was also a Jesuit brother, wrote a poem (in about 1879) which is called simply “Peace.”  Hopkins was remarkable not only for his skill at putting words together, but also for his honest acknowledgement of human frailties.  In the poem, he admits that moments of peace do occur, but he calls them “piecemeal peace.”

Instead, Hopkins says, God gives us something in lieu of peace — patience.  Patience is akin to peace, but it’s somewhat different, I think.  Patience is the willingness to wait with the expectation that what we want will come to pass; it involves an element of faith.

Hopkins goes on to say that when peace does come, it “comes with work to do.”  Peace is not passivity (nor is patience).  Certainly Paul understood that.  Many others have understood it also, including John Wesley.

Gracefully and peacefully submitted,
David Petty