Peace the World Cannot Give

Welcome to Word for the Week, the series in which I:

share my experience of hearing God’s Word in Mass last weekend,
explore what I believe the Lord is calling me to do about that Word, and
ask how this Word might impact your life, as well.

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Last week, on Pentecost Sunday I watched a live-streamed Mass on YouTube. Bishop Nevares celebrated the liturgy. It was comforting to see and hear the congregation that was present, albeit with masks on their faces! After Mass concluded, I drove over to our church to receive the Eucharist. The words that stood out to me from the gospel were, “Peace be with you.”

“What am I called to do about this word?” I’ve been asking the Lord. I believe the answer is coming by way of many realizations this week. I’m able to see with clarity that the peace of Christ is different from the peace that this world can offer (see John 14:27). This same week, I got a distinct taste of that peace as a few of my earthly freedoms were taken from me.

Our governor implemented Arizona’s first-ever state-wide curfew last Sunday⁠—Pentecost!⁠—at 8PM. The curfew is in effect from 8pm to 5am each day for eight days.

As David and I stood out in our backyard on Sunday night around 10 PM, I looked at the cinder block walls that surround our rental property. With tears welling in my eyes, I said, “This is the closest I’ve been to slavery, babe.”

“Slavery? Nobody is beating you, though,” David replied.

“Right. But if I go out there,” I pointed past our house to the quiet suburban street beyond, “I could be sent to jail. Beatings during slavery were for the sake of keeping slaves in captivity.” I gazed up at the faint stars in the darkened night sky. There were no clouds, per usual in Arizona.

I looked back at David and exclaimed, “Now I get to do what my ancestors did!”  David took in my beaming smile. He grinned and squinted his eyes slightly. He looked happy to see the fire in my spirit.

The peace I experienced on Pentecost wasn’t coming from the world or from our surroundings. Rather, it proceeded from the same Spirit behind the old Gospel hymn, “I’ve got peace like a river in my soul.” I’ve known that song as long as I can remember! Now, I’ll get to sing it with new fervor.

It’s my turn to practice what I preach, or⁠—as Mahalia Jackson so eloquently sang⁠—to “live the life I sing about in my song.”

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