Tuesday, February 17, 2026

Peace, Peace, where there is no Peace


What is it that will solve all of this mess?  What can we possibly do that would bend the divisive, snarling, bloodstained arc of human history towards something a little less obviously horrible?

It's a paradoxic conundrum, a Gordian knot of a puzzler.  Because on the one hand, we clearly don't have it figured out, in a quod erat demonstrandum sort of way every time you hold still and bother to listen.

And on the other hand, we all think we know the answer, and every one of us answers that question in a slightly different way.

That is both a blessing and one of the reasons the story of our species is so consistently monstrous.  Our desires crash into one another, our countless disparate songs of the best possible future creating a terrifying dissonance.  

Where, then, is the solution?  Where is the path out of this wreck of dust and ashes?

I was recently asked where I thought folks might come together in my community to build understanding, to listen and to find something that would restore the breach between us.  Where might we convene, and what might that look like?

I admitted that while I had an answer, I wasn't sure it was the answer that my good-hearted questioners were looking for.  My answer is Jesus.  That's precisely why I'm doing the Jesus thing, after all, why I've made living according to his teachings the goal of my existence.

I mean, that's what we're attempting, every single time we gather at church.  We're attempting to live in a way that defies our histories, both collective and personal.  Trying, at least.

"Because you know," I said to my questioner, "we Christians always get along just great."  I got a little laugh at that, Lord help us.

Still and all, it's where I choose to put my hope.  Because where nations are ruled by the sword, and markets are ruled by Mammon, a community that defies those norms with a fierce gentleness seems the only viable option.