Embodying Peace

I read today’s readings at the end of a long summer week entertaining my two and five-year-old sons at home. I had just put the younger one down for a nap and my older one was doing his “quiet time” of self-play. I sat down at my favorite spot in our house – our screened in porch – which is surrounded by greenery and the sounds of birds.

Peace, at last. 

As an introvert and internal processor, the constant noise of two small children can be overwhelming. So today’s first reading is equal parts consoling and challenging to me. My first reaction is to think, “YES! God IS in the quiet! That is why I need more time for quiet prayer and reflection!”

But as I sit with this more, I know it is not the whole story. Because to say that I can only find God in the quiet moments is to discount God’s presence in my ever-active children. It is to discount God’s presence in the interactions I’ve had with people on the margins, who have taught me about God’s love. It is to discount God’s presence in the voices of everyone who is loud about the need for justice. It is to discount God's presence in forms of worship that look more like dancing, clapping, and belting out hymns.

As with most things, Jesus shows me the way to balance all of this. Our Gospel for today starts out with Jesus feeding a large crowd. Being fully divine, he shows us that God is present in the mess of a large crowd clamouring for food. But when that work is done, Jesus takes time to be alone, in silence, to pray. He doesn’t immediately run to help his disciples being tossed around by waves – he waits until the fourth watch of the night.

There is certainly a lesson here about the importance of caregivers taking time to themselves, but perhaps the key to understanding these readings is actually in the psalm, which reminds us that God proclaims peace. Not only does God proclaim peace, God embodies peace – Jesus’s very presence on the disciples’ boat calms the wind. 

While I crave the type of peace that looks like a silent whisper or a calm and quiet sea, maybe it is not so much about the decibel level of the earthquake, the wind, or the crackling of the fire, but more about the level of destruction that those natural disasters cause. As we live through another era of man-made destruction, we can remember that violence like this does not come from God.

That is not to say that God’s peace is a naive or easy peace. When Elijah hears God’s whispering voice, and when the disciples first see Jesus walking on water toward them, they are scared. I am reminded of the quote from the Chronicles of Narnia about Aslan, when Susan asks Mr. Beaver, “Is he safe?” and Mr. Beaver replies, “'Course he isn't safe. But he's good.”

Sometimes God’s peace might look like a silent walk through nature, but sometimes it might look like flipping over tables as we work for justice. It is a peace that might require some hard work and challenge to the status quo. But it is a peace that respects the dignity of others and doesn’t let them sink, even in their doubt.

Today's Readings

---

Kelly Sankowski is a freelance writer and editor focused on amplifying the voices of women in the Church. She lives in Toledo, Ohio with her husband and two sons. You can read more of her work on her website or subscribe to her substack.