Blessed are the peacemakers

These days I can find myself compulsively checking the news, or avoiding it altogether. I have a need to know, but it’s edged with dread. When I do look, the pictures and sounds of suffering and destruction leave me heartbroken, angry and with a sense of powerlessness. In the Middle East, there are such terrible injustices on both sides, a long history of human rights denied, of people deprived of home and land, of violence spiralling, atrocities committed, the powerless treated as less than human by the powerful. It seems a never ending cycle of hostility; can there ever be a solution? The feelings of outrage are so strong on all sides, spilling out onto social media and onto streets across the world, further polarising the different positions, deepening hatred and the sense that all the wrong lies with the other. How can I respond in any way that’s meaningful?
 
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God.”
 
These words of Jesus in Matthew 5:9 keep surfacing in my mind. But where are the peacemakers in this situation? They are there, working behind the scenes, establishing small channels of communication and negotiation, working hard to influence those with power to see the human beings on all sides, to look for common ground, however fragile and unpromising. More often than not they’re out of the public eye, with quiet voices. But Jesus says they are blessed: God blesses them and blesses their efforts, however unlikely peace may seem.
 
Jesus himself is the ultimate peacemaker. It cost him everything to make peace between God and humanity, to bridge the irreconcilable gap between us, to cross the divide. And he asks us to be like him, making peace wherever we find broken relationships.
 
That means starting with myself. I was challenged a few weeks ago by a Quaker who said that we must all contribute to peace by rooting out the seeds of war in our own hearts and lives. Maybe I need to forgive that friend who’s too busy to see me, or let go of my anger at the guy who cut me up at the lights, or listen to the neighbour who voted the opposite way to me over Brexit.
 
And it means praying: praying for peace, praying for those on either side of the divide, praying for those caught in the cross-fire, praying for the peacemakers. Often I don’t know what to pray for, but I can lift the situation before God without words, and let the Holy Spirit pray through me. It’s a way of taking a small stand for hope, the hope of God’s shalom, God’s peace on earth as it is in heaven.
 
In the words of the Anglican Archbishop of Jerusalem:
 
“We pray without ceasing for justice, reconciliation, peace, and an end to hatred and war. We also pray for God to change the hearts of all leaders and decision-makers in our countries and around the world, for we are in dire need of hearts that love, show mercy, and are willing to live in unity with others - hearts that respect human dignity and choose life rather than death.” Amen.
 
Let’s make this our prayer too.

Photo by Matteo Raw on Unsplash