See the Kingdom

Crossposted from The Search for Integrity

Psalm 46:9-10

9 He makes wars cease to the end of the earth.
He breaks the bow, and shatters the spear.
He burns the chariots in the fire.
10 “Be still, and know that I am God.
I will be exalted among the nations.
I will be exalted in the earth.”

Jim Wallis likes to point out the ironic fact that many people trained in teaching Bible in their churches seem to have missed the thousands of scripture texts that speak of God’s special concern for the poor. Similarly, many who have attended evangelical churches could easily, based on the teaching they hear, gain the patently false impression that the Bible rarely speaks of peace, and that the few places where it does do so, it is with disapproval. They repeatedly hear just a handful of seemingly relevant texts: “I came not to bring peace, but a sword” (in which Jesus is actually speaking, not of armed conflict but of the danger his teaching is to traditional family values); “They have healed the wound of my people slightly, saying ‘Peace’ when there is no peace” (Jeremiah’s assessment of the false hopes being raised by false prophets who, more interested in profits than real security, were insisting that the Babylonian army would fold up and go away if only the people kept up their armed resistance a little longer); and perhaps the incident in the temple where Jesus physically disrupts the profitable business of those who were taking advantage of the religious sincerity of others by spilling their carefully counted money on the floor and driving their merchandise (animals destined for slaughter) from the temple courts.

But in fact there are hundreds of texts throughout the Bible that teach about peace, its source and its place in God’s plan for the world, and it’s time that Christians everywhere stop being afraid of them. Below is a very small sample.

I’ll start with one that should be held at the ready whenever someone takes the saying of Jesus  (Matthew 24:6-7) that “there will be wars and rumours of wars; see that you be not troubled, for the end is not yet” as proof that war is inevitable and will always be with us (which only makes sense if the end is always going to be “not yet”). Once too often I have heard someone put that out as a final argument against peacemaking, since “I believe the Bible!” Well, I believe the Bible, too, including….

Psalm 46, especially Psalm 46:9-10

9 He makes wars cease to the end of the earth.
He breaks the bow, and shatters the spear.
He burns the chariots in the fire.
10 “Be still, and know that I am God.
I will be exalted among the nations.
I will be exalted in the earth.”

The Words In Red

Matthew 5:3-10

3 Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 4 Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted. 5 Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth. 6 Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled. 7 Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy. 8 Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God. 9 Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God. 10 Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Matthew 5:38-48

Edge: A HISTORY OF VIOLENCE By Steven Pinker

An excerpt:

The decline of violence is a fractal phenomenon, visible at the scale of millennia, centuries, decades, and years. It applies over several orders of magnitude of violence, from genocide to war to rioting to homicide to the treatment of children and animals. And it appears to be a worldwide trend, though not a homogeneous one. The leading edge has been in Western societies, especially England and Holland, and there seems to have been a tipping point at the onset of the Age of Reason in the early seventeenth century.

At the widest-angle view, one can see a whopping difference across the millennia that separate us from our pre-state ancestors. Contra leftist anthropologists who celebrate the noble savage, quantitative body-counts—such as the proportion of prehistoric skeletons with axemarks and embedded arrowheads or the proportion of men in a contemporary foraging tribe who die at the hands of other men—suggest that pre-state societies were far more violent than our own. It is true that raids and battles killed a tiny percentage of the numbers that die in modern warfare. But, in tribal violence, the clashes are more frequent, the percentage of men in the population who fight is greater, and the rates of death per battle are higher. According to anthropologists like Lawrence Keeley, Stephen LeBlanc, Phillip Walker, and Bruce Knauft, these factors combine to yield population-wide rates of death in tribal warfare that dwarf those of modern times. If the wars of the twentieth century had killed the same proportion of the population that die in the wars of a typical tribal society, there would have been two billion deaths, not 100 million.

Are we, perhaps, less far than we think from the time envisioned by the ancient prophets, when “nation will not take up sword against nation, neither will they learn war any more” (Isaiah 2:4)? I have long observed, to anyone who will listen, that most people, at most times and places, live most of their lives in relative peace. Pinker’s study seems to suggest that this is increasingly true, despite even the horrors of the twentieth century. Our attention focuses on acts of violence precisely because they are anomalous, whether the occasion is murder, terrorism, or organized warfare.

“Of the increase of his government and peace there shall be no end” says Isaiah 9:7 of the one identified in the previous verse as the Prince of Peace, in a passage widely held in the Christian tradition as pointing to the birth of Christ: yet today, many who claim to be followers of that Christ, who insist they are believers in the very selfsame sacred text that gives us these words, have given up on any hope that there can be any increase of peace, but instead hope only for a bloody, fiery apocalyptic end of the world — and some of them think their “blessed hope” lies, not in the increase of peace, but in being on the winning side in an upcoming battle. They concern themselves not a whit with the increase of peace (though the chief apostle, Peter, admonishes them to “seek peace and pursue it”) ¹ , thinking that there will be time enough for all that after the end of time.
Yet for the Christian, the evil that we fight is not the evil outside of us, but the evil we find within: not sinners but sin, not bad people but the wickedness to which people, including ourselves, so easily succumb: “for our struggle is not against flesh and blood” (Ephesians 6:12). Our enemies are not those who hate us, but the hatred within us, not terrorists but our own sense of terror, not those who threaten to ban talk of God from our public places but our own fears and suspicions which threaten to banish the peace of God from our inner life. When the victory is gained over these enemies, we can become stalwart warriors for peace.