Peace

Peace.  The word, the phrase, the idea, has been on my mind of late.  The last post to this blog was about the possibility of the United States taking military action in Syria, and whether or not that fit into Just War theory.  As it turned out, a few days after that post, such action was averted (at least for the time being), when a diplomatic solution emerged.  Whether that particular solution was in the best interests (long term) of the United States, indeed whether or not that solution is even a solution (some suspect that Syria and Russia have out maneuvered both the White House and the State Department -- see here), remains to be seen.  But, if peace is the absence of armed conflict, then at least for the time, we have peace (even if civil war continues to rage in Syria itself).  If nothing else, and as I hope that post helped to point out, there is much discussion that can (and should) take place within America's churches about war and peace, and when the State can and should act in the wider world, and what the faith thinks about that (see here for more in that vein).

No sooner had we achieved peace, at least for the time, at least in one place on an international level, America was reminded how fragile that peace can be at home.  Earlier this week a disgruntled civilian contractor walked into one of the building at the Washington Navy Yard and opened fire with weapons, killing thirteen people for no reason we now know, and in a random way that leaves many questions, and only grief in its wake.  If in the case of Syria, American Christians were asked to think about what constitutes a just war, in the case of the Navy Yard shooting they are called much more to grieve with the families of the victims than to discuss policy changes to gun laws or mental health or security at government facilities, at least for now, and at least for the most part.

And then came news that hit closer to home.  I awakened Friday morning to word (both via social media and from the local news) that someone I went to high school with, Officer Rod Bradway, had been killed in the line of duty.  Rod was a police officer (a term that has largely replaced the notions of law enforcement from the nineteenth century and before of a "peace officer" and the related "justice of the peace"...those officials who were charged by the state to enforce the laws of peace upon our civil society) in Indianapolis, who had responded to a call of a suspected domestic violence incident, and from initial reports, was ambushed upon entering the apartment.  Both he, and the man who shot him, died.  Rod was two years older than me, and I won't pretend to that we were friends or even knew each other well, but I do remember him.  He was always nice (not all upper class men were of course), and then there was the 50 yard field goal he made in a close football game! 

It is ironic, if that is the right word, how tragedies such as these make us think about life and about concepts about peace in different ways.  I can't say that I'd thought of Rob in years, nor seen him (probably since he graduated, or perhaps when my class did, as his younger brother was in my grade).  And yet, seeing his official picture today (as well as old ones from our time at NorthWood High School) brought back memories of him and others.  My prayers tonight are for his wife and family, that they may know peace in this time of tragedy.  And that they may remember, as one of our classmates put it, that while life is not fair (though we wish it were), it is very precious.

And the search for peace, for our world, our country, ourselves, and for others continues despite these stories of success, progress, setbacks, and sadness.  At Butler University, where I spend part of my professional life, in the past week or so there have been stories of trying to work for peace.  A peace pole was unveiled on campus in an interfaith prayer service.  Situated between the union building and the main classroom building, the pole, it is hoped, will be a visual reminder to strive for peace on earth.  Likewise, the university announced plans to launch the Desmund Tutu Center, named for the Anglican Archbishop Emeritus of South Africa (who visited and spoke on campus earlier this month), that will be dedicated to "social justice and reconciliation, international relationships, and interreligious and community bridge-building."

What will become of these and other attempts to craft a more peaceful world remain to be seen.  Christians, of course, recognize that while Jesus is the Prince of Peace, He did not promise that peace would reign on Earth (see Matthew 10:34) until He does.  But they are also called to be peacemakers (Matthew 5:9), and that can come in a variety of forms.  Perhaps these words from a song turned into a hymn (written by Jill Jackson and Sy Miller in 1955) are worth repeating as we start this weekend and think of such things:

Let there be peace on earth
And let it begin with me.
Let there be peace on earth
The peace that was meant to be.
With God as our father
Brothers all are we.
Let me walk with my brother
In perfect harmony.