FINDING GOD’S PEACE IN CHAOS

Kathleen Crevasse, Director of Christian Education

So, this assignment - Where do I find God’s peace in the midst of chaos? - should have been an easy one for me. Afterall, for decades I’ve cultivated intentional practices that give me peace and draw me nearer to God – things like breath prayer, walking labyrinths, hiking in nature, and reading poetry, more recently, engaging in the Daily Offices. In early summer, I helped a diocesan team develop a program we rolled out in July called The 4 Ms. We encouraged a daily dive into mindfulness, movement, mastery and meaningful connection as an antidote to chaos and trauma and a prescription for mental health. Although we offered it in July, it works any time and you can access it here: https://www.dioet.org/4ms/.

In the past several weeks I solicited, edited and prepared for publication essays for our parish devotion book Blessings in the Time of Coronavirus. I even wrote one. But if you were to see me in recent days my body language probably didn’t telegraph peace or joy. My mask, well, masked my unsmiling face -and I hope it perhaps muffled the occasional grinding of my teeth. What’s going on? What’s the disconnect?

I’ve worn through some shoe soles and tooth enamel on this one. Moments of peace (and even joy – hiking this weekend with my beloved sister who I hadn’t seen for more than 24 hours in the past year, sitting outside in the sun in my first Godly Play circle in half a year! ) are interrupted by moments of adrenaline-flooding alarm and jarring disquietude. Do I need new or better practices? Am I hitting a 20-years-in ministry rut or am I a victim of the 6-month wall folks are talking about lately? (http://bit.ly/6monthWall)

I follow someone who goes by @lorihetteen on Instagram. She shares wisdom, quotes, and quirky things that feed my soul, served up in what she calls “poem-ish” drawing. Today, I clicked on this and something, well, clicked:

I realized that in these long months of weathering the pandemic and all that entails – isolation, grief, adjusting to new routines, lost opportunities for meaningful connection, worry about vulnerable loved ones – I often truly have been able to find peace through my practices, through watching humans being lovely to others, through the tender ministrations of some of the angels in my own life, through praying for and reaching out to the young families in our church. But that’s all been in response to a virus. A virus is a virus is a virus. It doesn’t care about anything other than finding a host cell where it can reproduce itself. There’s not much I can do about it. I can wear a mask, socially distance from others, wash my hands, try not make anything worse with bad behavior or a bad attitude. I can wait it out and allay my anxiety with prayer and practices and seeking to be present to the now - where God can always be found.

But loud voices in my head (excuse me, are they bothering you?) keep shouting. They disturb my peace. And I think they are chanting, “No justice, no peace.” Our society’s divided response to the virus has stolen my peace. Our society’s divided response to the cries and actions against racial injustice - revealed all over again in new and ‘same old’ ways - has stolen our peace. The virus’ disproportionate danger and deadliness to people of color has mirrored other dangers and deadly forces that threaten those same people. And that, frankly, doesn’t feel like something I should be seeking peace about. That doesn’t feel like something to be quiet about. That feels like, “How do I help tear those chains from the wall?”

There’s a collect we pray that says,

Almighty God, who created us in your own image: Grant us grace fearlessly to contend against evil and to make no peace with oppression; and, that we may reverently use our freedom, help us to employ it in the maintenance of justice in our communities and among the nations, to the glory of your holy Name; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Make no peace with oppression. It’s not about peace when it comes to racial injustice. Where there is no justice, there can be no peace.

So, when it comes to the trials dealt out by the pandemic, yes, seek peace. Pray, meditate, get outside, move, do something for others, read good books, reach out to someone whose day it will make. Watch a classic movie or silly Tik Tok videos. Come to church – online or in person, on Sundays or any of our weekday options.

But for me, when it comes to the struggle to fight racial injustice, I think a season of discomfort is in order. I have no right to seek peace for myself when there is no justice for others. Indeed, the bold prayer asks for the grace to fearlessly contend against that evil and to use our freedom to fight for the oppressed. (And if following social safety guidelines makes you feel oppressed, perhaps take a moment to wonder if that’s a battle worth spending your already fraught energy on right now.)

In the book Traveling Mercies, Anne Lamott offers the following on when things go wrong:

“Carolyn Myss, the medical intuitive who writes and lectures about why people don’t heal, flew to Russia a few years ago to give some lectures. Everything that could go wrong did — flights were cancelled or overbooked, connections missed, her reserved room at the hotel given to