Last week a reality hit me. For the majority of my students, they have lived nearly all of their lives thus far in a post 9/11 world. Since 2001 the United States and its allies have been engaged in the Global War on Terror. This means that in their living memory, they have never known a time during which our nation has not been a war. We’ve had parents, friends, aunites, and uncles deploy to places such as Iraq and Afghanistan, once, twice, even more. We have seen the price veterans and their families have paid. Earlier this year, I met a group of wounded warrior athletes out on our track. Some had prosthetics and dealt with wounds of the body, others suffered wounds you cold not visibly see such as traumatic brain injury and post-traumatic stress disorder, including a former navy chaplain whom I met.
My point is that our world has not known a lasting peace for a good long time. And yet as a write this, it is ‘Iolani Peace Week. A week where there are themes and activities devoted to the cause of peace and bettering the world in which we live. And that very world in which we live seems utterly opposed to the very idea of peace. In the headlines we still read about Syria, Iraq, Afgahnistan, and Pakistan. Black Ops, HALO, Call of Duty, and Tombraider are among the top selling action video games on amazon. where you enter a virtual world and shoot bad guys, zombies, or what ever in an effort to stay alive and complete a mission. Who cares about Peace?
How beautiful on the mountain are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace…
Geoffrey Anketell Studdert Kennedy was an Anglican priest and poet. Born in Leeds , England, the part of Leeds that Geoffrey grew up in and would later serve was a slum. Studdert Kennedy volunteered as a chaplain to the armed forces on the Western Front, during WW1, his ministry reflected the notion of the gospel imperative to love one another. It was known that he would give the shirt off his back and often did. He would often be seen in wearing his black clergy robe and visiting the pubs to chat with-not preach at- the local men. His generosity and sincerity his willingness to be in solidarity with the common man gained him respect. He was nicknamed 'Woodbine Willie' during World War I for giving Woodbine cigarettes along with spiritual aid to injured and dying soldiers. There is an anecdote that during his funeral procession veterans of the great War showered his casket with packets of Woodbines as it went by.
In 1917, he won the Military Cross at Messines Ridge after running into no man's land to help the wounded during an attack on the German frontline. He wrote a number of poems about his experiences and the affect it has had on him and so many others.
His experience in the war convinced him of the need to speak out on matters of justice and peace. So in the years after the war he devoted much of his energy to social welfare and peace at a time when Britain and even the Church of England itself seemed indifferent and afraid to confront the realities of the costs of the War. In his post war writings, he was concerned that the political problems of the day were really spiritual ones born out of the vacuum of war.
He says in his essay Food for the Fed Up that when it comes to peace,
That does not mean that we should abolish all armaments and force to-morrow. It merely means that we should start out on the right basis and recognise that our armaments are symbols, not of our power, but of our weakness, that the great powers are the great weaknesses of our world. It means that we should recognise that we cannot attain to greatness by painting the map of the world red, but only by washing the soul of the world white. Our military power is an exact index of our spiritual and moral impotence. Until we do recognise that, there can be no peace and no true progress. …there is no other Power but [God’s], which is the Power of Love. God is Love, and all power belongs to Love.
And in that Love is the ultimate power to transform. In it is the power to forgive, to be reconciled, to embrace, to serve one another. The power of Love is ultimately the power of peace. You hear this from Desmond Tutu, from the Dalai Lama, and all the great spiritual leaders throughout history.
How beautiful on the mountain are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace…
What are the messages do our feet carry when we are out and about? Do we bring with our words and our actions, the message of selfish pride and thirst of power and authority? Or can we be messengers of a different sort, messengers of peace?
In our prayers, in our smiles, in our random acts of kindness, I would hope that we could, one small moment at a time, continue to build a community like the kingdom of peace and justice that God calls us to. I’m not talking about the kind of community where we all sit around, hold hands, and sing Kum By Yah. That would be nice, to be sure, but it is not the world in which we live. That world is a complicated one, filled with temptations, messages, and internet postings filled with words that hurt. But it is also a world that is filled with joy, hope, forgiveness, and words of encouragement, congratulations, and celebration.
How beautiful on the mountain are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace…
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