by Ann Spangler
Five years ago, we bought a house in a charming area of the city, full of older homes, tenderly cared for. The streets are wide and peaceful, lined with trees that have grown strong over decades. The neighborhood is tight-knit and so friendly that it feels as though we are living in a time warp, back in the tranquil 1950s.
That perception shattered one sultry summer night. It took a while to clear the sleep from my head after I heard the noise. Three o’clock in the morning—I could see the digital readout on the clock. Had I dreamt that loud bang or had something happened? I closed my eyes and rolled over, too tired to draw a conclusion. Then I heard groans coming from the street below. Stumbling out of bed, I stood at the open window, staring down. A minivan lay crumpled against a tree directly across the street. Soon the darkness was punctuated by sirens and flashing lights. Two young men were placed on stretchers and bundled into an ambulance. A third screamed in pain as firemen used the “Jaws of Life” to extricate him from the vehicle, mangling the passenger door in the process. That night I prayed for the injured with silent anguish, standing next to neighbors who had gathered on the street.
We learned the next day that the van had been stolen. The three young thieves had come careening the wrong way down our one-way street at God-knows-what speed. They hadn’t had seat belts on and one was thrown onto the street while another was tossed around in the back compartment of the car. Only the tree had kept the car from ramming into my neighbor’s house. Fortunately, though the three were banged up, they would recover. But what if they had killed themselves or someone else? What if the accident had occurred in the middle of the day with young children playing outside? It wasn’t the first time a car had been stolen in our neighborhood. Suddenly our beautiful tree-lined street no longer seemed like the safe enclave we thought it was.
A year later, the only sign that anything unusual happened on our street was the large bare patch on the tree where the bark was ripped off. So far it shows no signs of healing. Perhaps it will stay that way, a reminder that evil, despite its allure, is essentially stupid. Pursuing our impulses regardless of God’s instructions is like throwing ourselves headlong into a tree.
You and I may never be tempted to go joyriding, but what about other temptations—like stretching the truth to gain an advantage, or constantly yelling at our kids, or flirting with someone else’s spouse, or spending more money than we have, or spouting off just because we feel like it? What happens when these behaviors become commonplace in our society—in businesses, churches, government, and media? Inevitably, such moral failures will diminish the peace. Sometimes they will even destroy it.
God has already shown us the path of peace. Indeed, it is the wounds of Christ that bring us peace. This may sound like poetry until you begin to picture just how hideous the crucifixion was. A naked man nailed to a set of crossbeams and then slowly tortured to death in full view of the public. Jesus hung on the cross for three hours, making himself the target of God’s wrath against all the pettiness, self-righteousness, bickering, meanness, anger, gossip, gluttony, greed, jealousy, lies, drunkenness, child abuse, infidelity, lust, rape, murder, and destruction that we humans have wreaked upon the world. The cross was our punishment, the payback for our sins. But Christ, loving us and being unwilling to let us suffer a punishment we could not survive, transformed an instrument of torture into one of victory. Through it he both upheld God’s justice and healed our relationship with a holy God.
No matter what we have done, how agitated or frantic we feel, or how chaotic life has become, Christ says to us today: Shalom aleikhem! “Peace upon you.” Peace be with you in your relationship with God, with others, and with yourself. May his peace settle into your soul and rule in your heart. May it become the loom on which your life is woven, clothing you with his compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. Repent of what you have done wrong. Forgive as you have been forgiven. And let the one who is called the Prince of Peace rule in your heart.
From Praying the Names of Jesus: A Daily Guide by Ann Spangler
