Blessed Are the Peacemakers . . .

AN INSTRUMENT OF GOD’S PEACE

This installment concludes our study of the peacemaker, however limited it has been. If it has made us more conscious of that great blessing, Happy are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God, it has been worthwhile. To be a child of the Father is to be like the Father, to bear his image. He is peace, and if we are his children, we are like him, peaceful. He calls or recognizes us as his daughters and sons if we make peace like he makes peace. If one makes pieces of the Body rather than peace, he is not behaving as a child of God and will not be “called” such, according to the promise.

That promise really turns me on. I delight to be recognized as a brother by another person, but it is something else to be called a son by the heavenly Father. For God himself to say, Leroy Garrett is my son, is almost too much for me. If that promise is mine, it matters little what men may say or do. But that promise assigns me my role: to be God’s son I am to be a maker of peace. I am not merely to love peace or to be for it, but I am to make peace.

That means that I am to be an instrument of his peace. He is the only source for the peace and he is the motivator. I am only an instrument in his hand. So I can make his peace only within his will, not my will. I borrow this title from the famous prayer of St. Francis of Assisi, and since it may not be readily available to our readers, we reproduce it here in its entirety.

Oh Lord, make mean instrument of Thy peace!

Where hate is, may I bring love;

Where offence has been given or taken, may I bring pardon;

Where there is discord, may I bring fellowship;

Where there is error, may I bring truth;

Where there is doubt, may I bring faith;

Where there is despair, may I bring hope

Where there is darkness, may I bring light;

Where there is sadness, may I bring joy;

Master, let me seek rather to console than to be consoled;

To understand than to be understood;

To love rather than to be loved;

For it is in giving that I receive,

In forgetting myself that I find myself;

In pardoning that I receive pardon;

In dying that I am born again to the life eternal.

This is surely one of the greatest things ever written, even if it did come from the pen of a Roman Catholic monk! I am reminded of a story that Robert Shank likes to tell of the sister who did not realize that she was singing a poem written by a Roman Catholic cardinal when she sang Lead Kindly Light, right there on the second row in a Church of Christ, until brother Shank mentioned it in his sermon. When they continued the song further, she sat there tight-lipped, refusing to sing anything that a cardinal would write!

But there is consistency to the dear sister’s behavior. If it is our posture to have no cooperation whatever with any other church, and if we label all preachers as “false” except our own, then there should be some question about “worshipping” with their books and hymns. If you are of that disposition, I beg you to bear with me while I draw a point or so from St. Francis’ prayer.

The priest realized the nature of peace, that’s for sure. He saw that we must make it and not just wish it. Where there is hate we are to bring love; where there is despair we are to bring hope; where there is sadness We are to bring joy. We are in the business of confronting discord, doubt, despair, and darkness. We find ourselves only in losing ourselves; it is in giving that we receive.

This is the spirit that Paul describes in 1 Cor. 9:22-23: “To the weak I became weak, that I might gain the weak. I am become all things to all men, that I may by all means save some. And I do all things for the gospel’s sake.” This is the way to make peace. The “weak” in verse 22 are those with dietary scruples, while the “strong,” which is where Paul was, realized their freedom in Christ. But the apostle became weak, sympathizing with their position, which is not what the “strong” in the Corinthian church were doing, that he might “gain” the weak. Since they were already in Christ he is not talking about converting them, but of gaining them for greater spiritual maturity. We often poke fun at those with strange views, and if we do not “withdraw” from them, we keep them at a distance until they learn to conform.

How beautiful Paul’s attitude! He concedes that foods in themselves do not matter in our acceptance with God: “We are neither the worse if we do not eat, nor the better if we do eat” (1 Cor. 8:8). But he warns that this liberty might somehow become a stumbling block to the weak (verse 9), and so he concludes by saying, “If food causes my brother to stumble, I will never eat meat again, that I might not cause my brother to stumble” (verse 13). In Rom. 14:15 he puts itthis way: “If because of food your brother is hurt, you are no longer walking according to love. Do not destroy with your food him for whom Christ died.”

Notice that he equates walking in love with not hurting your brother, and in doing this one might compromise in an area where he is right. So one can be “right” or strong and yet be wrong in the worst kind of way: by not being sufficiently sensitive toward his brother.

So, if we want to be peacemakers, the apostle is here showing us the way. We are to become all things to all men, so that we may save some. Too few of us are willing to become charismatics or premillennialists or non-cooperatives in order to save them for the Body and as sisters and brothers. This means to move inside where they live and understand how they see things, and to show loving forbearance rather than impatience. After all, it is loving forbearance that preserves the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace, according to Eph. 4:3-4.

This is the great truth that St. Francis captured in his poem. We are to seek to console rather than to be consoled, to understand rather than to be understood, to love rather than to be loved.

This is the way of peace and happiness and there is no other. The most miserable people in the world are those who are trying to gain acceptance or understanding or love in the world that is not inclined to give them. He who wants to be pitied will spend himself in self-pity. When we resolve to love (whether or not we are loved in return), to console (whether or not we are consoled), and to understand (even if we are misunderstood, perhaps intentionally), we are in the peacemaking business.

In closing this series I not only wish for you the blessings of St. Francis’s prayer, but that of Isaiah as well, whether he was St. Isaiah or not!

“You, Lord, give perfect peace to those who keep their purpose firm and put their trust in you” (Is. 26:3).

Ah, yes, perfect peace. We should settle for nothing less.—the Editor