Now, you know I am all about learning about church practices, throughout different denominations, especially the ancient ones, but the past few months I have become completely fascinated with anything to do with liturgy! Yes, how very un-Baptist of me, but oh well. I personally believe that if something helps you grow spiritually, why not take part in it? I like the structure of liturgy, the prayers, everything. Don't hate. It's interesting. I think everyone should at least read up on liturgy and see what's it all about.
Anyways, a couple of months ago I got this liturgy book, that is awesome. "Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals", by Shane Claiborne has a little bit of everything in it for liturgical purposes. It has a plan for mornings, along with evening prayers and prayers designated for specific purposes. And while it's made for a group of people to do together, considering liturgy means public worship, I enjoy doing it by myself. The morning setup consists of prayers listed, singing a hymn (all the classics are in the back of the book to reference to), reading/singing/praying a part of a Psalm, two different Scripture readings, praying for others, and a closing prayer. It's pretty rad, if I do say so myself. I have found myself enjoying structure in everything I do spiritually now and this is perfect for me.
At the beginning of each month, there is an intro to the month's liturgy and it usually has a theme. This month's theme is peace, and I had to share it with you devoted readers. All two or three of you. Such sweet people you are...
PEACEMAKING
Peace is not just about the absence of conflict; it's also about the presence of justice. Martin Luther King, Jr. even distinguished between "the devil's peace" and God's true peace. A counterfeit peace exists when people are pacified or distracted or so beat up and tired of fighting that all seems calm. But true peace does not exist until there is justice, restoration, forgiveness. Peacemaking doesn't mean passivity. It is the act of interrupting injustice without mirroring injustice, the act of disarming evil without destroying the evildoer, the act of finding a third way that is neither fight nor flight, but the careful, arduous pursuit of reconciliation and justice. It is about a revolution of love that is big enough to set both the oppressed and the oppressors free.
Peace is about being able to recognize in the face of the oppressed our own faces, and in the hands of the oppressors our own hands. Peace, like most beautiful things, begins small. Matthew 18 gives us a clear process for approaching someone who has hurt or offended us; first we are to talk directly with them, not at them or around them. Most communities that have been around a while (like a few decades or centuries) identify "straight talk," or creating an environment where people do not avoid conflict but speak honestly to one another, as one of the core values of healthy community. Straight talk is countercultural in a world that prefers politeness to honesty. In his Rule, Benedict of Nursia speaks passionately about the deadly poison of "murmuring" the negativity and dissension that can infect community and rot the fabric of love.
Peacemaking begins with what we can change- ourselves. But it doesn't end there. We are to be peacemakers in a world riddled with violence. That means interrupting violence with imagination, on our streets and in our world. This peace that is "not like any way the empire brings peace" is rooted in the nonviolence in the nonviolence of the cross, where we see a Savior who loves his enemies so much he died for them. Peace is often not our instinct, which is why it must be cultivated and grown in us. Even Jesus' key disciple, Peter, picks up his sword when the soldiers approach Jesus. Jesus' response is brilliant; he scolds Peter, and then he heals the wounded persecutor, only to be dragged away and hung on a Roman cross. If ever there were a case for "just war" or justified violence to protect the innocent, Peter had it. Yet Jesus rebukes his logic of the sword.
The early Christians said, "When Jesus disarmed Peter, he disarmed every Christian." For hundreds of years, Christians were never seen carrying swords, and they followed the way of the Prince of Peace even unto death, loving their enemies and blessing those who cursed them. It doesn't look like a good strategy for running an empire, but it is the narrow way that leads to life. Undoubtedly, it doesn't always seem to "work." As we look at history, and even as we read the Scriptures, there seems to be evidence that violence has worked at times and failed at times, just as nonviolence has worked at times and failed at times. In the end, the question is, which looks most like Jesus? For we are called not just to be successful but to faithful to the way of the cross, even unto death. The way of the cross did not seem to work on Friday, but the promise is that Sunday is coming. In the end, love wins.
This can be hard to remember as we go about our lives. But the transfiguration reminds us how the disciples' eyes were opened to the reality of Jesus' power even before the resurrection. If we have eyes to see, the lightning that flashes east to west in the nonviolent coming of God can illuminate the world wherever we are. "If you are willing," one of the desert fathers said, "you can become all flame."
