In our continuing series on the Beatitudes, I choose to pause at one particular verse because it seems to be where Jesus’ introduction to the Sermon on the Mount comes to a point.
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.”
Up to here, we’ve been hearing descriptions of characteristics of citizens of the kingdom of God. Within those characteristics, some action is implied, but we’ve been talking largely about a state of being.
But now we’ve reached peacemakers, what sounds like an occupation along the lines of carpenter or construction worker. Something gets done; something new exists once these people are at work. And in the case of peacemakers, it is a God-like work, a creative and restorative activity.
Assuming we have at least some of the necessary precursors within us, the attributes found in Matthew 5:1-8, how do we go about making peace?
It helps to look to Jesus, of course, to examine the greatest act of peacemaking in the history of the universe. Sin had destroyed the relationship between God and humanity, but Christ’s death on the cross made restoration possible. Thanks to Jesus, God among us, there once again is peace between Creator and creation.
Clearly, deep, sacrificial love—shown even to those who don’t deserve it—is a key part of peacemaking.
It also seems important to have internal peace, to have largely overcome the battle between good and evil going on in our minds. Again, we win this battle not by striving, but by inviting the Holy Spirit to do the work, by meeting God in those places he said he would always be: prayer, Scripture, worship, and Christian fellowship.
When we find ourselves ready for peacemaking in the world, we take on a high calling, one of the most difficult tasks a human being can attempt.
There have been a lot of peacemaking strategies employed in the history of the Christian church. I have always admired pacifists, the people who forgo violence in any form, although I have never been able to fully embrace pacifism. Perhaps God will correct my understanding one day, but for now my own experiences tell me there are situations where a pacifist response can turn into a sin of omission, a failure to act to prevent evil.
The opposite approach concerns me more, however. When we decide to be “people of action,” those who would battle evil with force, it’s amazing how quickly we can become what we fight against.
In terms of large-scale conflict, the early church tried to counter this tendency toward moral entropy with something called “Just War Theory,” but even the most noble-sounding wars we’ve fought seem to break some of the Christian boundaries for a righteous war. In World War II, we fought a very real evil, but we also managed to drop atomic bombs on civilian populations, violating one of the basic principles underlying the just prosecution of a war.
It’s clear historically and today we need more of a focus on Christian peacemaking. We see the need on the large scale—if last week’s photos of nerve-gassed children from Syria don’t make the point, I don’t know what does. We see the need on a small scale. Anyone ever been involved in a church war, where two sides line up against each other over some nonessential matter, destroying ongoing ministry in the process?
To equip myself as a peacemaker, the only thing I know to do is continue beyond the Beatitudes and delve more deeply into the Sermon on the Mount, particularly three of Jesus’ very difficult teachings clearly related to peacemaking.
In all three cases, Jesus is employing some holy hyperbole, describing behaviors that seem humanly impossible. We’re told not to be angry, and that speaking out in anger is as bad as murder. We hear we should not resist an evildoer. We’re shocked to learn we’re supposed to love our enemies.
Even with God’s help, I’m not sure I can ever maintain such a perfectly holy approach where I perceive the presence of evil. But perhaps by dwelling on these teachings and keeping them consciously before us, we can all make a real difference in bringing peace to the part of the world we occupy.
This past week, some of you may have heard the story of Antoinette Tuff, a Christian woman who drew heavily on her faith as she calmly convinced a mentally ill man to lay down his rifle after he fired a shot in the Georgia school where she works. If you haven’t heard about her strategy, take time to do so. She reached out to a lost man with empathy and love and made a real difference in the world in just half an hour.
Surely she is blessed, and surely she is evidence of what can be achieved.