If You Want Peace, Work for...

“If you want peace, work for justice,” says the bumper sticker. The religion section in last Saturday’s Times Union suggested another route—and it is dangerous.

Two articles in particular delivered the message:

• A column by Laurene C. O’Brien calling us not to demonize child molesters. While stressing the critical need to protect children, she writes, “If we give in to basic vengeful feelings and allow such offenders to become easy targets and modern-day lepers, we risk unleashing hatred and disgust. Such unchecked attitudes have the power to debase us all.”
• A profile of Virginia Miller and her involvement in Dances of Universal Peace, a group that expresses “the unity found behind all religions” through sacred movement in song. “It is an interfaith event,” she says, “and helps us gain knowledge of other religions as well as of our own religion.”
  

There’s no question that peace without justice is a chimera. Yet maybe the first step toward peace isn’t justice so much as compassion. Or simple openness: if I can let down my guard, even for a minute, and honestly look at the “other side” as a human being—with, surprise, many of the same dreams and cares I have—how can compassion not creep in? And if I start feeling compassion for this person, why would I want to wage war against her?

It sounds all so lovely and sunny and beautiful, but actually it’s fraught with danger. If I let my guard down, I can get wounded, perhaps mortally. (Ask any resident of Baghdad.) If I honestly look at the “other side,” it could disrupt—even overhaul—the whole infrastructure of my belief.

Even worse, I may start to have compassion for some very unpopular people. Jesus came under heavy fire for hanging out with “tax collectors and sinners.” Urging compassion for child molesters, or suspected terrorists, or avowed racists can do the same.

Maybe the key word in that bumper sticker is work. More than anything else, opening oneself to others is a discipline that requires constant practice. And it starts with opening oneself to God, who has the power to transform us into instruments of compassion—even as he can turn our lives upside down.

But if the end is peace—not the absence of war, but true shalom­—might the work be worth it?