Make Peace Personal
So much is stirred up in our world right now. Yesterday I read that 42 million Americans have filed for unemployment in the last 3 months. The Coronavirus has killed more than 110,000 Americans and nearly 400,000 worldwide. Protests and riots have erupted around the world against racial injustice and police brutality.
We don’t want complacency. But it can also feel hard to maintain the fervor and discipline necessary to affect massive change. Systems have been in place for so long they feel normalized. Depending on awareness, appearance and upbringing, people have a wide range of abilities to see current conditions or believe that shifts are even possible.
It can take an incident like a videotaped murder on a public street or a shooting in our particular town to galvanize us into action. Of course there are important civic steps available: voting, signing petitions, choosing how and where to spend our money, contacting elected officials with our concerns, assembling in peaceful demonstrations.
But not all options are available to everyone. 2.3 million people are incarcerated in the United States right now (that’s 1 in 100, and disproportionately people of color.) An additional 4.5 million individuals live in society but are under community supervision. The vast majority of this voiceless population is unable to vote, though they are among the people most affected by elected officials and their ensuing policies.
It can feel challenging enough to maintain peaceful relationships in our own families and neighborhoods, let alone with people who seem different. But developing connection and understanding with others is not theoretical.
I think back to an Iftar I attended, some years ago. Iftar is the celebration of breaking the Ramadan fast and is often done in community. I remember a warm, enriching evening at MAPS, the Muslim Association of Puget Sound. I had been invited by my friend Farida and was struck by some indelible points about the experience. The first is that it occurred through personal invitation. I didn’t read a flyer in a coffee shop or see a post on social media. It was a friendly, personal invitation with a note saying, “Kristie, I hope you can come.”
Follow-up correspondence arrived with suggested attire, an invitation to bring a can of food for the local food bank, a schedule for the evening and driving directions. I appreciated the practical information on how to show up respectfully and knowing what to expect. I attended alone, feeling a bit anxious, but every detail was made for ease. There were signs and a welcome table filled with smiling young girls who checked me in, handed me a name tag, showed me where to place my canned goods and walked me all the way to my specific dining table, which was round and filled with hospitable, diverse new friends. The atmosphere was connected and celebrational. I felt relaxed and grateful for the unique opportunity to visit a local mosque. Stories and prayers were shared, and I was touched by all I met.
After a delicious meal of dates, lamb, couscous, feta, watermelon and baklava, we turned our attention to a panel of speakers: a Catholic priest, a Jewish rabbi, and the Muslim imam. Each spoke about the common desires across all 3 faiths for unity, love and peace. While Christianity is important to me and I’ve been active in the United Methodist Church all of my life, it was the Muslim imam I felt the greatest kinship with that evening.
“How can we achieve world peace,” someone from the audience asked, “when it seems like there is misunderstanding and violence everywhere?”
The imam smiled. “How many of you are friends with someone of a different faith?” he asked. “I don’t mean that you know of a neighbor or someone at work. I mean, how many of you have had someone in your own home, for a meal or visit, or eaten in theirs? It’s not enough to say that you support someone else’s beliefs. World peace comes from cultivating personal friendships. It’s not theoretical.”
I’ve never forgotten that wisdom.
In current times the hot button is race. The same challenge stands.
How many people of color (if you are white) do you count as friends? How often do you share a meal inside one of your homes or arrange for your children to play together?
The same benchmark applies for any marginalized population: sexual orientation, age, ethnicity, faith, economic/social status, or with anyone whose appearance or experience is different from yours.
Make peace personal.
What can you do today to express care and friendship, right where you are?
