Rev. Kendyl Gibbons
First Unitarian Society of Minneapolis
September 16, 2007

Not Past Our Understanding

Let’s begin with the easy part. In my view, which I know is not mine alone, there is no excuse for this war. There never has been. I have said so from before the beginning; many of us have. Every reservation that those of us opposed to the invasion of Iraq ever put forward has been amply justified and tragically fulfilled. Almost 4000 loyal young American men and women have now died in the streets of Baghdad and the sands of the desert – we have voluntarily outdone the terrorists of 9/11, and there is no end in sight. Though our government does not think it important to count, it seems that tens of thousands of Iraqis have been killed as a direct result of our actions, including significant numbers of children, the elderly, and other non-combatants. Tens of thousands of our own rising generation’s citizens have been grievously wounded, in both mind and body, in ways we know not how to heal them, and there is no end in sight. The fabled, historic city of Baghdad lies shattered; its children learn to curse the name of America, and there is no end in sight. For what it is worth, like a modern day Cassandra whom no one would ever heed, in bitterness and grief and utter frustration, we told you so; we TOLD you so; WE TOLD YOU SO.

Now, then; that’s the easy part. True enough, as far as it goes, but no place for the community of memory and promise to set its standard. In fact, if what you are looking for this morning is to have your self-righteousness stroked, you might want to leave now. For my friends, it is easy – too easy – to let that frustration and bitterness get the better of us; to succumb to it spiritually, and so to become ourselves carriers of the same virus of hatred and violence that we would wish to overcome, and to heal.

Every teacher of wisdom in the world’s long memory has agreed with Confucius; if there is to be peace in the world, there must be truth in the mind, good will in the heart, and virtue in the life of the individual. Jesus said it, Buddha said it, Gandhi said it, Martin Luther King said it, Thich Naht Hanh says it – peace can never be just the goal, it must also be the path. It cannot be only the end, it has to also be the means. If our actions arise out of hearts filled with resentment, and the despising of other people, we will never be the peace makers that we intend to be.

This is hard teaching in today’s political climate, with so much at stake in the decisions that our leaders are making. Democracy is designed as an adversarial system, but in its ideal, proper form, the adversaries are ideas, not people. Democracy is meant to be what this community is meant to be – a place where theories and possibilities can be explored from all angles, where everyone is free to express hopes and doubts, to offer proposals and reservations, to raise questions; to ask What if, and Why not, and How can we do better? So that ideas circulate freely, while at the same time people abide together in a covenant of interpersonal respect and care. This is how it’s supposed to work. But we get lazy, and slip into ad hominum arguments, as if to discredit an individual were indeed to confound their theories.

Let us pause this morning to remind ourselves that it is not. The Pythagorean theorem is true, regardless of what we may think of Pythagoras as a human being. Whether Copernicus was a saint or a cad does not change the fact of whether or not the earth goes around the sun. And we, who preach the inherent worth and dignity of every person, cannot with integrity amend that principle to read, "…except if they have really stupid ideas." As difficult as it sometimes is, we are called upon to apply that tenet of fundamental respect to everyone, from the accused terrorist to the president of the United States, no matter how much we may deplore or disagree with either of them. Neither the life of principle nor the making of peace is easy.

Nevertheless, as John Holmes points out, it is not beyond our understanding. Peace is not that complicated – people know what it is like; even those who have never tasted it in the course of all their war-torn lives can describe what it would be like. It consists of simple things – lamplight on a white tablecloth, with family gathered around a table, eating supper together in warmth and security. Sondra could tell you that it is as simple as being able to walk down the street where you live without the threat of gang members and drug pushers and stray bullets. These are not difficult concepts; the only mystery is why, when all human beings desire peace, we have so seldom in the course of all history, been able to bring it about. It’s not that we don’t understand, but that we have rarely ever put our understanding fully into practice. And this is where I think that Thich Naht Hanh and his cultural ancestors, including the Buddha, and Confucius, have something to say to the situation in which you and I currently find ourselves.

I confess that I for one am angry, and frustrated almost to the point of despair. I am not feeling like writing love letters to the president. I am much more tempted to rejoice in his political misfortunes, and to feel justified in my contempt whenever he makes a gaffe. That’s much easier and more gratifying than it is to do the hard work of focusing on his inherent worth and dignity, and the common humanity that he and I share. Part of what I know, when I listen to the wiser teachers around me and within me, is that indulging this anger and contempt is no path toward real, enduring peace. In order to make peace, Thich Naht Hanh suggests, each of us must "be peace." A peace movement that is filled with hatred and anger will never bring about the peaceful world that I long for, that we all want. Peace work means, first of all, being peace; it means to practice mindfulness, to acquire the capacity to look, to see, and to understand.

One of the stories about peace that has always fascinated me is the Christmas truce of 1914. You probably remember the story:

Out of the muddy trenches of the Western Front south of Ypres, the German forces set small evergreen trees on parapets and lit the candles on Christmas Eve. Then, they began singing carols, and though their language was unfamiliar to their enemies, the tunes were not. After a few trees were shot at, the British soldiers became more curious, and crawled forward to watch and listen. And after a while, they began to sing also, and the troops alternated Christmas hymns back and forth.

The next morning, several units agreed with their opponents to call a burial truce, in order to lay to rest the friends and comrades who had fallen between the lines. Soon after this gruesome work was done, the "no man’s land" between the trenches began to fill with fraternizing soldiers, sharing rations and gifts from home; chocolate cake, candy, tobacco, and sausages. A couple of enterprising infantry men who had been barbers gave free haircuts to both sides, and in several places, soccer balls were improvised; it is recorded that the Germans won one match 3-2.

Although the troops who had been involved in the Christmas truce were reluctant to commence hostilities again, it was not long before the war was underway once more; for many of the participants, it would be their last Christmas.

The Scottish poet Frederick Niven described the incident in his "Carol from Flanders", which ends:

O ye who read this truthful rhyme

From Flanders, kneel and say:

"God speed the time when every day

Shall be as Christmas Day."

Peace is not past our understanding. It is as simple as a Christmas tune, a ragged evergreen tree, a soccer ball, time to bury the dead, cigars and sausages, the recognition that we are all in this together, and that we have far more in common than the identities that separate us. It’s helpful, of course, to have the same holidays; to recognize across the trenches the nostalgia for home and family, the same holy night on the calendar, when the memory of a new born child shames the inhumanity of war. As a humanist, I love the culture of Christmas, though I don’t believe that there’s anything especially magical about December 25th. But would a world without the possibility of a Christmas truce really be a better place for human beings? I don’t think so.

Unfortunately, I doubt that the American troops now in Iraq are entering into the spirit of Ramadan, the Muslim holy month of fasting now underway. As our wars have become global, we need a global liturgical calendar – one day on which people of every nation and every religion would be ashamed to bomb anyone, or shoot anyone, or start a war against anyone. It’s not everything, of course, one day; it’s not nearly enough to get us to the world of peace where we want to go. Nevertheless, I’ll take it. One day is a start. If we could really get it out there, into the general public consciousness throughout the whole globe everywhere, it would be a beginning, a point on which to stand to move the world.

It’s not just my idea, either. For 25 years now, the United Nations has been calling for an International Day of Peace, and cease-fire. Originally scheduled to coincide with the opening day of the UN General Assembly, it has now been established on the 21st of September every year. It will occur this coming Friday, and you will see in your order of service several local activities in observance of International Peace Day, in which you are invited to take part. Every country – even ours – has endorsed the International Day of Peace; now it remains to be seen whether it can become the first truly global holiday, and be woven into the fabric of the world’s diverse cultures. Could we, through this shared celebration, begin to learn to be peace together? Could we share our images of the people’s peace, the thing too simple for misapprehension, the peace that is not past our understanding? Could we lift it up, and then begin to ask, ‘Why just today? Why not every day?’

And those questions, I think will bring us back to the logic of Confucius, and the examination of our own individual capacity to make peace, to live peace, to be peace. David Spangler has written that, "To confront evil successfully, we as a nation must also confront our own darkness; we must act not as a messiah, filled with undue majesty and certainty, but rather as a healer, filled with compassion, empathy, and humility." This seems to me so transparently true in these difficult days, when I see my government proclaiming itself an arrogant messiah, full to overflowing with majesty and certainty, rushing off to confront the evil in the world, with never a thought to recognize its own darkness. But such a caveat is good not only for the hubris of nations, but for the individual heart and mind as well. I will only be the advocate and ambassador for peace that I want to be, if I have taken stock of my own inner darkness, and found the way to give myself to the world as a healer, in empathy, compassion, and humility toward all people, not just those who agree with me.

Peace is simple, but it is not easy, neither personally nor politically. It is not enough to perfect one’s inner life in isolation; true peace flows outward into the home, the city, the nation, the world. But yet, we will never accomplish peace on a global level while continuing to indulge animosity, disrespect, and arrogance in the way we treat the other beings with whom we share this planet. They go hand in hand, the peace of mind and heart, and the peace of armies; you can never cultivate one alone. It is through true knowledge, sincerity, and a cultivated heart in the individual that peace comes to the family, to the ordered life of communities and nations, and to the world as a whole. And it is in striving for peace among the peoples and countries of the world that we may practice the disciplines of inner wisdom that will enable us to learn, and to be, peace.

Dona nobis pacem, we say; give us peace. It is necessarily a double plea – may we find the strength and discernment to create a peace that emanates from within us, and may we come to live in a world of justice, non-violence, and security that every one of us can understand and enjoy. Dona nobis pacem – it is a call to go beyond our anger and frustration, to reach past our arrogance and contempt, to transcend even the enduring wounds and losses, to make our lives and our world what we know they could and ought to be. Dona nobis pacem; not as a gift from beyond our understanding, but as an achievement of the spirit that is in us. Dona nobis pacem, for it is in peace that our own well-being lies, and peace that is the key to the healing of our world.

 

 

 

from Peace Is Every Step by Thich Nhat Hanh

In the peace movement there is a lot of anger, frustration, and misunderstanding. People in the peace movement can write very good protest letters, but they are not so skilled at writing love letters. We need to learn to write letters to the Congress and the President that they will want to read, and not just throw away. The way we speak, the kind of understanding, the kind of language we use should not turn people off. The President is a person like any of us.

Can the peace movement talk in loving speech, showing the way for peace? I think that will depend on whether the people in the peace movement can "be peace". Because without being peace, we cannot do anything for peace. If we cannot smile, we cannot help other people smile. If we are not peaceful, then we cannot contribute to the peace movement.

I hope we can offer a new dimension to the peace movement. The peace movement often is filled with anger and hatred and does not fulfill the role we expect of it. A fresh way of being peace, of making peace is needed. That is why it is so important for us to practice mindfulness, to acquire the capacity to look, to see, and to understand. It would be wonderful if we could bring to the peace movement our non-dualistic way of looking at things. That alone would diminish hatred and aggression. Peace work means, first of all, being peace. We rely on each other. Our children are relying on us in order for them to have a future.

 

 

from the writings of Confucius:

When things are investigated, then true knowledge is achieved;

when true knowledge is achieved, then the will becomes sincere;

when the will is sincere, then the heart is set right;

when the heart is set right, then the personal life is cultivated;

when the personal life is cultivated, then the family life is regulated;

when the family life is regulated, then the national life is orderly;

and when the national life is orderly, then there is peace in this world."

 



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