Have you ever had an experience where you were kind of nervous, a bit on edge, worried about something you had to do? Maybe it was a job interview; maybe you had to make some kind of presentation at work; perhaps you were going to ask the boss for a raise. Whatever it was, you’re a bit upset.
And some friend or family member comes along trying to be helpful, to calm you down, saying something like, “Don’t worry. Be calm. Be peaceful. Don’t get nervous about this, whatever you do. Don’t get concerned that you’re going to forget what you want to say. Don’t fret about whether you’ll be able to answer the questions or how you’ll come across, or whether you’ll look stupid. So you look stupid? Just be calm.”
And the more they talk, the more nervous you get.
Jesus gives us a greeting of peace: “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid.”
Are we in a state of peace? Well, I suppose officially our country is not in a state of peace. Ever since 9/11, we’ve been in a state of war, a war on terrorism that has taken various forms—military action in Afghanistan, which still continues. What’s our own mindset regarding these events? Are we in a mindset of war or of peace?
Even those who are in the midst of that conflict may individually have a mindset of war or of peace. A few weeks ago there was an interview with a soldier who’d recently returned from his tour of duty. He’d seen some action, and he told of how he’d shot and killed an insurgent who was firing at his unit. He went on to say how his buddies congratulated him saying, “Righteous kill, man, righteous kill.”
But he said at that moment, he didn’t feel righteous. He felt sick. However this was his job, it didn’t make him feel righteous, but sick. And it continued to make him feel sick every time he thought about it. How does one get into a mentality of war, of animosity? How does one step into a mentality of peace?
It seems to me it’s very easy to do.
About five years ago, Marie and I took a trip to Russia. We took a train from Riga Latvia to Moscow, a 14-hour journey, which meant we had to cross from Latvia into Russia. On the way, we had my own little experience of the cold war that had been going on since long after I was born. I found the cold war in me. As we crossed into Russia, the Latvian border guards and immigration officials got on the train. Our traveling companion had constantly told us not to say anything to the border guards, just get our documents organized. He said they were not friendly people. We happened to be in a compartment by ourselves about 2:00 a.m. Two young guards came in, dressed in their cap and great coat. He asked for my passport. I handed it to him and said hello, since I knew a little of the language. But there was no smile, no response. He looked at the passport, paged through it, studied the photo, then stared at me, looked at the passport again, then back at me. This seemed to go on for some time.
I am not the type of person who does not talk with somebody so I started a conversation and picked a white thread off his dark blue uniform and showed it to him. Broad smiles came across all of our faces. We thought there was a cold war tension. How is that when there’s already so much tension, so much animosity, such friction in the world that one would freely choose to enter into that? Rather we entered into being an instrument of peace.
It’s easy enough to enter into a mindset of animosity and—if we want—to stay there: holding onto that old grudge, nursing that ancient resentment as it grows and festers day by day and year by year. We can choose a mindset of war if we want to, even if it’s just the private little war, the private little resentment lodged in our own heart… And we can stay there.
How then do we receive the word that Jesus gives us in Scripture? “Peace I leave with you. My peace I give to you.” Is it a word of comfort to us, or a word that upsets us?
But wishing or seeking the good of another may not always look like a peaceful act. Sometimes it looks a bit ambiguous.
I suppose every parent knows this. Loving one’s child means wanting the good for that little one. But wanting the good doesn’t always mean looking nice, being nice. When the child needs correction of some sort or other, it might seem that the easy thing, the nice thing, is just to ignore the child’s behavior. But that’s probably not the loving thing. Love seeks the good even when that isn’t easy, even when it doesn’t result in instant harmony. Sometimes it might mean an unhappy child; sometimes it might even mean a mild tantrum right in front of the Cocoa Puffs at IGA.
No matter how difficult or ambiguous the situation may be, we must still seek to remain rooted in the peace and love with which Christ gifts us, and to allow his love to be the source of all we do, as we seek the good of each person. “Blessed are the peacemakers. They will be called the children of God.”
Each month a member of the Cook County Ministerium will offer Spiritual Reflections. This month our contributor is Deacon Peter Mueller of St. John’s Catholic Church in Grand Marais.
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