Prodigal Medic....

justice |ˈjəstis|

noun

1 just behavior or treatment

• the quality of being fair and reasonable

• the administration of the law or authority in maintaining this

 When I see these protests, I see more the groupthink driving people towards revenge or retribution, demanding “justice” for those wronged. However, when people have made up their minds ahead of time, justice often takes a rear-seat to the need for a self-satisfying moment, watching the Bad People suffer a fate similar to what they delt out.

 

peace |pēs|

noun

1 freedom from disturbance; quiet and tranquility • mental calm;

2 freedom from or the cessation of war or freedom from civil disorder, freedom from dispute or dissension between individuals

3 ( the peace) a ceremonial handshake or kiss exchanged during a service in some churches (now usually only in the Eucharist), symbolizing Christian love and unity.

 

This seems to be the goal of all of this. However, revenge and retribution don’t equate to justice, nor do any of those equal peace. I love the fact that Webster’s includes the third definition of peace. To me, this is where we will find the strength to change the world. We want this peace of freedom, this lead of quiet, and lack of dispute. But the peace in our heart that can motivate us further comes from some place deeper. I hope that we can see in all peacemakers, regardless of religion, race or gender, an imprint of God on their souls. I hope that we look at these peacemakers as the ones to get behind and support with our lives. I hope that we find deep within our own hearts, a desire to not chose a side per se, but more to chose love. I pray that we find the peace within to reach outside to pray for all those who are innocent victims, for those orphans and widows and husbands without families. I pray that Love would transcend hate, that we would find the Peace of the Eucharist.

 

One of my favorite pastors puts it this way in his latest book:

 

The way of Jesus is the path of descent. It's about our death. It' our willingness to join the world in its suffering, it's our participation in the new humanity, it's our weakness calling out to others in their weakness.

To turn that into a product blasphemes the Eucharist.

 

On the night he was betrayed, Jesus led a Passover meal unlike any other. He took the bread and the cup and connected these symbols with himself. He told them, 'do this in remembrance of me.'

 

The 'do this' is understood to be the taking of the bread and the cup as the body and blood of Christ.

 

So we take it and we taste. We reflect and we remember. We sing and we pray. We take part in this two thousand year old ritual. Some of us 'do this' in a church service, some every day, and others with a small group of friends. We 'do this' in all sorts of ways and in all sorts of places with all sorts of diversity. Some of us 'do this' with chants, and some of us in silence. In some settings a priest or a pastor or an elder or a leader serves us, and in other settings people serve each other, and in other gatherings people serve themselves.

 

We do this in remembrance of Jesus because the ritual moves us, it changes us, it humbles us, it brings us together.

 

Just try to do this with someone you are not speaking to. You'll end up reconciling or at least speaking or at least being more understanding and more compassionate.

 

But what if Jesus meant something else-something beyond the ritual? What if he was talking about our actually enacting what the ritual is all about over and over, again and again, year after year? What if the 'do this' he primarily meant wasn't the ritual he was leading his disciples through at the moment. What if the 'do this' was his whole way of life?

 

He has chosen the path of descent; he comes into Jerusalem on a donkey, not a horse, with children, not soldiers, weeping, humble. And he dies, naked, bleeding, thirsty, alone.

 

Maybe that's what he meant when he says, 'do this in remebrance of me.' The 'do this' part is our lives. Opening ourselves up to the mystery of the resurrection, open for the liberation of others, allowing our bodies to be broken and our blood to be poured, discovering our Eucharist. Listening, and going.

 

Because when we do this in remembrance of him, the world will never be the same.

 

We will never be the same.

 

God, I certainly hope so.