Imagine that we’re on a boat, and our goal is to get to an island. The island is the Island of the Peacemaker, and when we get to the island we become peacemakers made in God’s own image: able to restore broken relationships, to bring new levels of depth and heart to hard political conversations, and to build bridges between political enemies.
We know that, this side of Heaven, we’ll never actually reach the island. But the closer we get, the better peacemakers we become.
There are two ways to get our boat to the island.
The first is to pick up our oars and row. This is what it looks like when we try to bridge-build under our own power. It’s what happens when we treat Jesus as simply a role model who lived two thousand years ago, and whose life we can study for clues about how to live—but not as Richard Foster’s “ever-present Teacher and Friend.” Rowing is what we do when we look to the Bible as a moral guide, and then try to live out its tenets by virtue of our own strength and willpower.
From a moral standpoint, there’s nothing exactly wrong with rowing. It does move us (slowly) towards the island. But it’s hard, toilsome work and we can burn out pretty quickly.
Luckily, there’s another way that we can move towards the island. It turns out that there’s a strong wind gusting in the right direction, and if we hoist our sail and adjust it in the proper way, then that wind can carry us in the direction of the island quickly and with relatively little effort on our part.
The wind is the Holy Spirit. When we adjust our sails—that is, cultivate the right spiritual practices that enable us to surrender to God on a deeper level—we find that He can transform our hearts and minds and turn us into vectors of peace in our own lives and in the lives of those around us.
To be clear, the Christian leaders of Braver Faith whom I have been privileged to get to know do live with the Holy Spirit. None of us are actually trying to row our way to the island. As Mark Beckwith put it during an interfaith prayer at the last convention: “Spirit, please remind us that our only capacity is to be full of You.”
But even though we live by sailing, sometimes we talk as though the only way to get to the island is to row.
To be clear, I think there are good reasons for why Christians often feel reticent to talk about the Holy Spirit.
For one thing, we can accidentally “over-spiritualize” hard topics. As Christians, we believe that God can heal all relationships, but when we lead too hard with this kind of language we can give the impression that there’s no need for other solutions such as secular mediation strategies or deep communities. Worse, we can accidentally suggest that people mired in deep conflict are simply being bad Christians—just pray harder, and God will guide you on the steps to heal your broken relationship!
For another, talking too much about the Holy Spirit can sound profoundly arrogant if we’re not careful. “I pray, and God tells me what to do” might be an accurate description of how we make peace (John 15:5), but it can sound as though we’re claiming that our actions are divine and therefore beyond question.
Nonetheless, I think it’s important that we—carefully, humbly—bring the Holy Spirit into more of our conversations about bridge-building.
For one thing, talking about the power of the Holy Spirit to guide us and transform us presents a more accurate account of how deep bridge-building is actually done. The best peacemaker I know is a theologian named Jamie Winship. Jamie’s worked with gang members, sex traffickers, and violent religious extremists; in each case, helping them to lay down their weapons and find (and spread) peace. In every lecture, he communicates that he’s not able to do this work just by dint of strong willpower or a desire to see Jesus as role model. Instead, it’s the Holy Spirit, guiding him and transforming him, that enables him to be a vector of peace wherever he goes.
The same is true of the great peacemakers throughout history, from Martin Luther King Jr. to Mother Teresa. None of them saw Jesus (only) as role model. Instead, they relied on the transformative power of the Holy Spirit to empower their efforts.
What if on panels and in speeches, we spoke more about how the Holy Spirit has transformed us into better bridge-builders—taking away our shame so that we feel less of an urge to yell at or insult people who don’t think like us, for instance; or taking away our fear so that we have the courage to take the first step to mend a broken relationship?
What if we were honest about our spiritual practices and how they’ve helped us to adjust our sail to better receive the Holy Spirit?
What if we spoke candidly about our prayers to see people from across the aisle with God’s eyes, and how and when those prayers have been answered?
It’s our job to train people to be better peacemakers. In the case of our fellow Christians, at least, maybe that looks like being more open about the nuts and bolts of how the original peacemaker is training us.
Contributor Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this essay are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views, positions, or policies of Braver Angels, its staff, members, partners, or affiliated organizations. Publication by Braver Angels does not constitute endorsement of the author’s views, and those views should not be attributed to Braver Angels or any organization with which Braver Angels is affiliated.
