Peace With Purpose
“Peace means something different from ‘not fighting.’ Those aren’t peace advocates, they’re ‘stop fighting’ advocates. Peace is an active and complex thing and sometimes fighting is part of what it takes to get it.” – fantasy writer Jo Walton
That statement has stayed with me for more than twenty years. It penetrates the mindless fog most “peace activists” wrap around their supposed ideal. I could only wish that more people would hear it and strive to understand it.
This coming Thursday, we commemorate the Nativity of Jesus Christ, who bears the sobriquet “The Prince of Peace.” Yet he himself said this:
Think not that I am come to send peace on earth: I came not to send peace, but a sword. For I am come to set a man at variance against his father, and the daughter against her mother, and the daughter in law against her mother in law. And a man’s foes shall be they of his own household
(Matthew 10:34-36)
Christ knew that division would follow in his wake. For not all, in Judea or elsewhere, would greet his New Covenant willingly or gladly. As we often say today, it threatened a lot of rice bowls.
Have another quote, this one from a writer no one would take for a Christian:
“Wherever you go in the galaxy, you can find a food business, a house-building business, a war business, a peace business, a governing business, and so forth. And of course a God business, which is called ‘religion,’ and which is a particularly reprehensible line of endeavor.”
(Robert Sheckley, Dimension of Miracles)
And yet another, from a writer you know full well:
“A man of the cloth needn’t be a man of God, my good fellow,” Connolly said. “He merely has to meet his congregation’s needs.”
“But Reverend, what needs could they have that would not require a man of God?” Andrew replied. “Other than the kind a grocer could satisfy.”
Connolly’s smirking smile spasmed, revealing the snarl beneath. The thrust had hit home.
“Absolution and orders, my good man. The merchandise all churches keep in stock. Sit up straight, do as you’re told, put your pence in the plate and your trust in the divine plan, and we will lift the guilt from your shoulders as necessary. But above all, you must do as you’re told. And we reserve the right to change the rules with no explanation.”
(From The Sledgehammer Concerto)
Quite negative views of religion and clerics, aren’t they? Not much peace to be found in them. More a forewarning of struggle and danger. And indeed, there have been many struggles, and no small amount of death, over religion and religious differences.
Yet people seek peace in Christian faith and its observance. Many of them find it there. It’s not the sort of peace purveyed by renunciation-oriented creeds such as Buddhism. It’s more the “active and complex thing” of which Jo Walton spoke. For it involves finding and committing to a purpose.
One can be at peace through total renunciation: divesting oneself of all desires, including the desire to live. But if that’s even possible to a living man, it wouldn’t be compatible with human volitional consciousness. Human nature under the veil of time demands that each of us have a purpose, even if that purpose reduces to simply staying alive.
Among the differences between Christianity and the Judaic faith that preceded it is this one: it demands virtually nothing from the Christian, whereas Judaism as practiced in the time of Christ was a complex web of rules that enveloped much of a man’s life. Christ’s New Covenant forbids certain “active” sins, including the ones in the Noahide Commandments. Beyond that, it commands us to love God wholeheartedly, and “thy neighbor as thyself.” He left free will and human reason to take care of the rest.
The New Covenant leaves men free. But free to do what? That’s left to each of us to discover. And discover it you must, for no man can live long without a purpose.
Catholics greet others in many ways, but one of the most common is “The peace of Christ to you.” Clearly, the sword he spoke of in the Gospel according to Matthew isn’t supposed to hang over our heads. If we must differ with those of other creeds – and we must – we must nevertheless be at peace with them. (Now and then they won’t allow it, which is a discussion for another time.) But above and beyond that, we must be at peace with ourselves. That requires the conscious embrace of whatever purpose we’ve chosen for ourselves.
How to choose? That’s up to you, Bubba. There are unworthy purposes, of course – those that involve dissolution, destruction, or aggression – but most of us recognize their unworthiness without needing warning labels. Only one other generalization is possible: If you’ve chosen well, your purpose will be compatible with your nature and your abilities. Embracing and pursuing it will make you happy. It will bring you to that active and complex thing called peace.
We are made to be purposive. It’s what God intended. But he’s left nearly all the details to us.
I could go in a myriad directions from here, but it’s not necessary. Be ready for the Feast of the Nativity. It arrives this coming Thursday. Celebrate with family and friends. And give thanks for God’s gift of His Son to suffering, sin-burdened Mankind. For that, too, is part of our purpose.
May God bless and keep you all.

Thank you for this, Mr Poretto. We have come to understand that the Lord will offer His hand unto you, but it is up to you to take it.
This idea of cooperation, of a sort of working alongside the Lord to His purpose and yours, is somehow comforting in a subtle way.
I would refer you to the old joke about the lady in New Orleans facing a flood, and each time a rescuer arrives she waves them off, saying that God will provide. A dinghy, a Coast Guard launch, and a helicopter are all treated thus.
Subsequent to her demise in the floodwaters, she arrives before the seat of the Lord and demands an explanation. Surely, her faith was sufficient to secure her safety.
The Lord replies, 'Lady, I sent two boats and a helicopter. What more should I have done?'
Merry Christmas to you, dear sir, and the peace of the season upon your house.
Mike in Canada