Even Peace is Possible

This past week, the bishop of the Rocky Mountain Synod, Meghan Johnston Aelabouni, wrote a letter regarding the war with Iran.

 

Beloved in Christ,

Over the past week, following the U.S./Israeli attack on Iran and Iran’s retaliation throughout the Middle East, many of us have watched with a mixture of horror and weariness at what feels on the one hand like yet another chapter in an endless story of war, and on the other like a threshold crossed to a new, frightening reality—the outcome, timeline, and scope of which are completely unknown.

 

My family and I anxiously scan the news each day and night to learn where missiles and shrapnel have landed, relieved when the names of affected villages and neighborhoods do not include the places where our family and friends live, and yet devastated to hear of loss of life everywhere: more than 100 children dead and buried in the rubble of a girls’ school in Minab, Iran; nine killed in Beit Shemesh, a suburb of Jerusalem; rising reports of casualties at U.S. military bases and embassy buildings; and in the West Bank, under cover of war, Palestinian farmers killed by emboldened Israeli settlers, with no accountability in sight.

 

Having lived and served in Jerusalem, I know something of how endless occupation and war have affected the real lives of real people I know in Palestine and Israel. I know very little about Iran, besides what any of us can access via media sources; but I do know that this war is affecting not just numbers, or a faceless “enemy,” but the real lives of real people with names, families, stories, and the same right to live as you or I. The burden of war always falls disproportionately on the most vulnerable: on the very young and the very old, on those too ill or poor or powerless to leave, who are snatched by the jaws of violence and the hunger and disease that follow. And, despite the puffed-up rhetoric of war—the assurances that this violence, this time, will bring peace and prosperity—the truth is that violence begets violence. It is impossible to bomb our way to peace.

 

As followers of Jesus, Bishop Meghan continues, what is our response? I am alarmed to hear developing news reports that allege some U.S. military commanders have framed the U.S. attacks on Iran as “all part of God’s divine plan,” connected these actions to biblical accounts of Armageddon, and suggested that President Trump was “anointed by Jesus” to bring about Jesus’ return. The idea that the U.S. is the agent of God, that this war is a holy war, is a clear example of Christian nationalism: a dangerous form of idolatry that pretends to uplift Christianity and encourage pride in citizenship, but actually redirects our faith and allegiance from the God of Jesus Christ to the nation itself, and to particular political leaders. Our Lutheran tradition calls us to speak the truth and to call a thing what it is: this is sin.

Bishop Imad Haddad, of our partner Lutheran church in the Holy Land, writes this urgent plea:

“Yet from this land we call holy, wounded yet steadfast, we refuse the temptation of despair. With the prophet Isaiah, we raise our voice with renewed urgency: “They shall learn war no more.” We remain committed to preaching the Gospel of reconciliation entrusted to us, the good news that through Christ, God reconciles humanity to Godself and calls us to the hard and holy work of reconciliation with one another. Dear partners, we urge you: pray, and pray fervently. But do not let prayer become a substitute for responsibility. Let your prayers be joined with courageous and concrete action. Stand publicly with those who are afflicted. Advocate persistently for a just peace that safeguards the dignity and security of all people. Challenge policy makers whose narratives make endless war appear inevitable.

 

 

In the last century, the United States has been at war

more often then not

And now, once again, we are at war.

 

For many of us, our prayers for peace may feel like impossible wishes,

sent out from our frightened, breaking hearts, but hard to believe in.

If history has taught us anything, it is that humans will go to war –

over resources, over land, over prejudice and hatred –

we hardly need a reason to fight one another.

We have seen that violence begets violence.

 

Yet.

This season of Lent, our theme is

Tell me something good –

grounding ourselves in the good news of Christ.

And the theme for today, the third Sunday of Lent, is this:

The good news is, together the impossible is possible.

Nothing is impossible with God.

We read from John’s gospel the story of Jesus’ miracle of abundance,

feeding 5,000 people from 3 loaves and two fish.

 

We read from Paul’s letter to the Ephesians

that God will work in us and through us

to do more than we can ask or imagine – to do what seems impossible.

In our “Tell Me Something Good” materials, Lisle Gwynn Garrity tells a story of God accomplishing the unimaginable through her congregation

 

In September of 2024, Black Mountain Presbyterian church in Black Mountain, NC

adopted a new mission statement. Taken from the words carved into the Communion table, the new mission statement is, simply, “Has everyone been fed?” The day the new mission statement was presented,  pastor Mary Katherine Robinson preached a sermon titled, “The time is now!”

 

A few days later, on September 27th, hurricane Helene wreaked havoc on our mountain town and the surrounding areas of North Carolina. Catastrophic flooding wiped out homes and businesses, causing hundreds of deaths and decimating the entire infrastructure. Once the storm relented (and nearly everyone was without water, power, or cell service), my husband, daughter, and I made our way to our church by foot (nearly every road was impassable). We hoped to connect with other neighbors to make sure people were okay. Selfishly, we also set out looking for information and possibly some ice for our quickly-spoiling food.

 

To our great surprise, we found several church members emptying the church pantry, cooking up anything they found in the freezer using gas-powered cooking stoves. A line of hungry people was quickly forming in the parking lot. I found pastor Mary Katherine, who was making her way through the crowd, frantically scribbling on a small paper pad. She was writing down any needs people in the community were requesting: water, blankets, gas, formula.

 

The post-storm situation was dire. We soon learned about harrowing rescues and neighbors who didn’t survive, and that the destruction was far greater than just our small town. But the church didn’t hesitate; without any plan or pre-thought, they opened the doors wide and began feeding anyone who showed up. Within a few days, the church was feeding nearly a thousand people a day. Neighbors and strangers gathered around tables in the parking lot. Volunteers showed up, both to serve and also receive hot meals. As word spread and supplies were finally able to come in (which took nearly a week due to impassable roads), the church soon filled to the brim with donated supplies and food. Nearly every square inch of the building was organized into a large food pantry/clothes closet.

 

As the days passed, the church partnered with a local restaurant to continue cooking and offering free meals each day at their much larger venue (using their industrial-sized kitchen). Donated supplies were rerouted to a local cabinetry business who offered their 3,000 square foot warehouse. Over weeks and months, financial donations poured into the church, designated into a hurricane relief fund. Thanks to the careful discernment of a task force, over 2 million dollars of donations were distributed to local organizations and non-profits to support rebuilding efforts as well as long-term recovery needs such as affordable housing.

 

Our mission statement is now known far and wide by the community; people remember the church that acted quickly to feed people after the storm. Yet, the work continues. To this day, each time we celebrate Communion, after the elements have been served, one of the pastors asks the congregation: “Has everyone been fed?”

And the congregation shouts back: “Not yet!”

 

 

What a great story of God’s abundance,

multiplying loaves and fishes and gathering the community

so that all may be fed.

We too know stories of people coming together, in faith,

to do what seems impossible.

Stories which remind us that, together, we can do more than any one of us can –

“more even than we imagine.”

 

A few years ago, a number of All Saints members served with Asylum Seeker Welcome,

welcoming busloads of asylum seekers who had been

legally processed into the country by ICE,

offering shelter and food and assistance with travel to their U. S. destinations.

It was a group formed entirely by volunteers,

not organized or supported by any one church or nonprofit organization,

yet supported and connected by many faith communities.

God’s abundance at work, through God’s people, making the impossible possible.

 

The work of providing shelter and assistance stopped abruptly

when the U.S. stopped receiving asylum seekers at the border,

but the concern for immigrant neighbors continues.

On Wednesday, I attended a constitutional observer training offered by the ACLU,

organized by people who worked with Asylum Seeker Welcome.

180 people of faith gathered –

overflowing the sanctuary and narthex of St Andrew Presbyterian church –

to learn about standing in solidarity with our immigrant neighbors.

I learned some good things –

but even more, I got connected with people in ABQ who are preparing

to protect and assist our immigrant neighbors from unjust ICE action.

 

We share concern for our neighbors in this nation who are hungry,

who are unhoused, who lack health care.

We share concern for immigrants and asylum seekers.

We share concern for our neighbors across the world who hear bombs raining down,

whose lives and families are in the path of violence.

We mourn, and we pray, and we remember –

with God, nothing is impossible – even the peace and justice we long for.

God is able to accomplish abundantly, within us and among us,

far more than we can ask or imagine.

Perhaps, someday, even peace will be possible.

 

As Bishop Haddad urged us,

may we commit ourselves to the work of waging peace –

in our lives and our communities and our nation and world.

May we commit ourselves to working as the Body of Christ in the world,

that all may live in safety and have enough.

 

We pray:

Eternal God, whose steadfast love never ends, we ask that you look upon the nations now engaged in war and hasten the day of peace. Look in mercy on those exposed to peril, conflict, sickness and death; and show compassion to the dying. In your good providence, remove all causes and occasions of war. Incline the hearts of all people to follow the path to peace and concord, that war may cease and the day of reconciliation may come quickly, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.