Would that you knew the ways of peace

According to the Luke gospel, Jesus and his disciples were approaching Jerusalem about a week from his execution as a troublemaker. In his religious tradition, Jerusalem was a holy city, but Jesus did not see anything holy about the place. According to the account, Jesus began crying and said, “…would that you knew the ways of peace.”

Can a place be called holy and be totally committed to war and violence?

A thousand years earlier, the Children of Israel by force of armed might took the city away from people we now call Palestinians. King David established Jerusalem as the home of God by killing anyone and everyone who stood in his way. Now, 3,000 years later, there is no shortage of people who want the holy city, and they are willing to kill to get it.

Jesus hovers over the city and with tears in his eyes whispers “…would that you knew the ways of peace.”

This morning I led a small group of people through a funeral of tragic sorrow. Together we claimed the peace of God for a troubled lady. I read familiar Bible passages that promise love, acceptance and peace. I read, “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you, not as the world gives do I give to you.”

Our friend was transgendered and the world had not given her much peace. The more she insisted on being the person she truly was, the more pronounced was the world’s rejection. In recent years she turned to alcohol. She was drunk in her own front yard with a shotgun. Alaska State Troopers shot and killed her. The Troopers were exonerated. There was no family to whom the body could be released. After two months the body was released to a long-time friend.

As I drove home, words of Jesus echoed in my mind. “Would that you knew the ways of peace.”

For solace as I continued to drive, I played a CD made by my youngest daughter, an actress/singer in Los Angeles. The song that grabbed me was named “Senses.”

“Oh let me know when you come back to your senses. Let me know when you change your mind, and I’ll be there.”

I pondered the question. When war and violence have been soundly discredited by history, why cannot we human beings change our minds and embrace the ways of peace?

Let’s start at home. Let’s start with Christian clergy. Let’s start with a Baptist minister named Howard Bess.

I am a child of the Great Depression and the glories of World War II, when “America saved the world.”

I was raised in the church and never heard anything except praise for the brave men who gave their lives for God and country. I was not quite as sure about the Korean War. Vietnam was disillusioning. Iraq was disgusting and unjustifiable.

Obviously, I am a slow learner. Changing my mind has not been easy. But even more tragically, I have not been a good disciple of Jesus from Nazareth. The peace of which Jesus spoke is loving and nonviolent. Peace ought to be the way of every follower of Jesus and every person who is a part of a Christian church. In retrospect I have allowed people in the congregations that I have served to participate in war and violence with a clear conscience.

My failure has been duplicated by hundreds of thousands of Christian clergy. Very few ministers have systematically and faithfully taught their parishioners the ways of peace. It is in some ways understandable. Our theological seminaries are not teaching potential clergy the ways of peace. Bishops and other high church officials have not insisted on peace as an essential part of the teachings of Jesus. The ways of peace have been abandoned by the Christian churches.

More pointedly, we have been seduced by St. Augustine and his ideas about just war. Christians have been hoodwinked into believing that there is such a thing as a just war. Predictably, we have never found a war that we could not justify. Christians have found themselves engulfed in justifying war rather than in teaching the ways of peace.

For several years I have been a member of the Baptist Peace Fellowship of North America. More recently I have been visiting the website of Center for Christian Nonviolence. It seems like I am being drenched by the voices of peace.

It is in this personal context that I have become disillusioned by President Obama. As a campaigner he talked the talk for which I was listening. He talked the talk with eloquence. He was a Democrat, who was willing to identify himself as a Christian, devout in his faith. I have agreed with much that he has done. When he has made decisions with which I disagreed, I gave him the benefit of doubt. Now he continues to offer me hope through safety garnered by expanded war. The combination of hope, safety and war is an oxymoron.

I am at the end of my day. My experiences have gone from an abused transgendered woman to a world that will not abandon war. I see Jesus from Nazareth hovering over all of us with tears in his eyes and saying, “Would that you knew the ways of peace.”

The Rev. Howard Bess is a retired American Baptist minister, who lives in Palmer, Alaska. His email address is hdbss@mtaonline.net.