Becoming Instruments of Peace

Before the Fellows year started, I traveled down to a small Shenandoah farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. It was the first time I had ever done a prayer retreat alone, and my preparation had been less than ideal. As the silent hours grew larger and larger, a feeling of intense anxiety began to sink in. A question bounced around in my head: “Why did I even show up to this place…Can’t I just pray anytime and anywhere?”

But over time, the external silence led to internal silence, and the words of Scripture, with the Icon of Christ before me, revealed the erēmos of God’s presence. The desert of God felt at times uninhabitable, but also at times closer than the cells of my body. Especially prevalent to my time in the erēmos was St. Paul’s Epistle to the Ephesians, where Christ, our Peace, breaks down the dividing wall of hostility between race/gender/class and creates a “new human being.” As I sat with this image, the peace I often considered (serenity) seemed to pale in comparison to Christ's true peace, which surpasses feelings and binds discordant notes into the most beautiful of harmonies. Leaving the farmhouse, I came away mainly with this conviction: “Lord, make me an instrument of your peace, that peace which creates wholeness among all parties.”

As the Fellows year has shifted into high gear, I have been reflecting not only on my personal experience but also on what this image means for our community as a whole. While I am thankful our Fellows class has already become close with one another, I still think there is room for the “new human being” to be created among us and in our own hearts. More than a homogenized hive mind, I want all of us to realize, at our deepest identity, that we are brothers and sisters in Christ, and that this reality exists whether we like it or not. What comes to mind is Christ’s call from the cross to his closest companions:

“When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to her, “Woman, here is your son,” and to the disciple, “Here is your mother.” From that time on, this disciple took her into his home.” - John 19:26-27 The Fellows program will put you in a constant flow of activity, much of it being a wonderful gift. But with any busyness, there comes the risk of ignoring a growing pang in your interior life. Maybe this is loneliness, stress, or fatigue. Without proper attention, such pangs risk damaging our peace, the very thing that makes the Icon of Christ so visible through us. I have noticed many of these things within myself, and my prayer has continued to be: “Lord, make me an instrument of your peace, that peace which creates wholeness among all parties.” Whether it be the people I meet or the differing wants within my own interior life, I have realized how much we lack the peace of the Lord, which brings discord into unity. But I also have to remind myself that this peace cannot come from me; it comes solely from Christ. What a relief! What was accomplished on the cross has brought permanent peace, and our task is to keep returning to the unchanging reality of the cross and resurrection. May we look at each other as Mary did at the beloved disciple, as family members tied to a reality that will never change. May we look to Christ, our Peace, as the one who knits together any strands that are apart. And may we, as Fellows, be instruments of His peace, noticing closed hands that need to be opened, so that God may be all in all. Amen.