Behind-the-Scenes Blog

Divine reassurance

The topic of “peace” is probably the last subject I’d choose to write about this week!

The world is anything but peaceful. There are threats of bombing and obliteration. There are calls for removals from office and refusals to obey orders.

Yet in the Narrative Lectionary text for this week, in a scene where Jesus appears to his disciples after the resurrection, he tells them, “Peace be with you” (John 20:19-31). And he doesn’t say it just once; he says it THREE times.

When someone repeats themselves, we might think, ‘Okay, okay. I got it the first time.’ But at some point, the thought might cross our minds, ‘Wow. This might be important. I’d better pay attention.’

Which is why I want to pay attention, today of all days, to this peace Jesus is offering. He understood how important it was for his disciples to know the depth of his peace because he knew the depth of their fear and doubt and anxiety. He knew how very much they needed this divine reassurance of peace.

Well, I for one, could certainly use some divine reassurance these days! Every headline seems to be shouting one more catastrophic decision or event. And I feel helpless. Peace in the world is way beyond my control. I reel myself back in from the brink of despair and ask, ‘What is within my reach?’

If you attend a liturgical church, you’ve probably said the words (or some variation), “Peace be with you,” and heard the response, “and also with you” hundreds of times. Each week we quote Jesus’s words as a way of sharing his peace. The question is, when we leave service, where or how do we find—and hold on to—this elusive thing Jesus calls “peace.” Surrounded by the chaos of our world—or job, or family, or relationships— how is it possible to sustain even an acquaintance with peace, let alone know peace?

I picture a series of rings where we long for peace, each of them getting closer and closer to our core self. The outermost ring—the world around us—is mostly beyond our control, but the next ring in—our communities, our neighborhoods—presents more possibilities. Get another ring closer—our families, friends, and partners—and we almost certainly can have an impact there.

Then there is the ring closest to us, our bodies and minds, and ultimately the innermost ring, our spirit.

I cannot understand the depth of the peace Jesus is offering (as Paul reminds us later: “the peace of God … surpasses all understanding“), but if I’m going to write about any kind of peace, I have to start with how I experience peace.

Finding peace

When I feel stressed or depleted, one of the things that inevitably crosses my mind is wanting to “get away,” literally to escape. I long for a place such as a retreat center or a secluded cabin where I can shift from noise to quiet.  Where I can find a change in pace, a change in atmosphere.  

I’ve written before about getaways that have been meaningful for me. In my blog post “Filled to the Brim,” I describe sitting out on the deck of a house along the Wisconsin river one evening and singing to myself “I’ve got peace like a river.” That night was a shift from THINKING about peace to FEELING peace settle into my body, my bones, my breathing.

In another blog post (“If Ever We Needed Light”), I wrote about a retreat I made with one of my sisters last year to a cabin in the Driftless region of Wisconsin. It’s wonderfully synchronous that just last week, as I was beginning to mull this post about peace, I woke up with an overwhelming longing for stillness and quiet, and I knew I could find it there. So I’m planning a return trip!

Yet as much as I welcome a few days in a peaceful setting, I know I can’t always go away to find peace. (And, for some who are reading this, that’s not even a possibility). While those retreat times offer a place that invites me to open myself to God’s peace, I also need ways to create peace right where I am.

Creating peace

There are many tools available for quieting our bodies and minds. One of my sisters loves time in her jacuzzi tub. One of my brothers enjoys a cigar out on his deck in the early evening. Another family member finds peace in the woods. A friend lights scented candles and listens to calming music.

Thanks to my therapist’s encouragement, I’ve experimented with different practices that calm me. I’ve learned what lowers my racing pulse and steadies my pounding heart. I know what helps my body slow down and breathe deeper. I know what settles the clamoring in my mind.

My personal “peace” tools include breathing exercises, a weighted blanket, a heated “bed buddy,” stress-relief sand bags. They all help a lot! But perhaps the single most accessible and effective tool for me to feel inner calm is through music. It’s hard to put into words what happens to my body when I listen to a meditative piece of music. Sometimes just hearing the opening notes of a solo cello is an immediate invitation to quiet myself, and I give myself over to it, willingly.

You’ve probably seen ads saying things like “This sound will reset your brain” or “This sound cleanses cortisol.” But as a trained music therapist, I look askance at these quick fix promos. What I do know is that each person’s choice of music that calms them is uniquely personal.

I’ll share a couple of my choices, in case you’d like to explore them:

“Peace, Piece” by Bill Evans
The opening chords of this slow jazz piece immediately call me to a place of steady breathing. The repetitive chords in the bass line are so steady that even when the melody starts to get a little jagged (as jazz melodies are wont to do), the bass line is not rattled. I experience this as a metaphor for Jesus’s words, “Peace be with you.” Even when the world around me gets jagged, a fundamental bass line keeps going, holding it all together.

“Spiegel im Spiegel” by Arvo Pärt*
If you are willing to settle in for 10 minutes, this piece is absolutely mesmerizing. There’s something about its purity (just piano and viola, in this recording) that makes it feels as if the notes are floating. As a person who loves to float on water, it’s no surprise that I love to float in music as well. I find peace in these spare and spacious sounds.

Being at peace

As helpful as I find music to be in quieting me, I have to ask: Is true “inner peace” different from this calming of mind and body? When it comes to the innermost ring of peace—in my core, my soul—what brings peace there?

Though I’ve often found peace in woods and music and quiet reflection, I think it might be more accurate to say, “Peace found me.”

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not dismissing the value of these peace practices. They’re surely important and incredibly helpful stepping stones to peace because they open us to the presence of God’s peace, to a way of BEING, even when the world around us is anything but peaceful.

The English translation of Jesus’s words, “Peace be WITH you,” strikes me in a different way as I’m writing this post. Jesus does not talk about peace as showing up once in a while, when we might need it. Rather, I think he’s saying something more like God’s peace has a home in you.  God is and will be WITH you, always. I don’t for a minute think that God’s peace erases problems. Rather, I hear Jesus’s words as a promise of God’s continual presence with us in the problems.  

American Buddhist teacher and author Pema Chödrön pinpoints this way of being precisely:

Peace isn’t an experience free of challenges, free of rough and smooth, it’s an experience that’s expansive enough to include all that arises without feeling threatened.
—Pema Chödrön, Taking the Leap: Freeing Ourselves from Old Habits and Fears

But I still am stuck at the question, “How can I experience this elusive inner peace?”

I think the problem lies in my very question, which starts with “How can I …” This is not a peace I can “make” happen. This is not peace dependent on my actions, on my creating particular settings or circumstances. Though my actions may open my awareness to this peace, the peace Jesus offers is always there, even when my awareness is dim. This peace is freely offered.  And I’m meant to receive it.

The problem is, I’m a do-er. I want to fix things, get things under control, manage the chaos. Receiving is not something I’m very good at. 

How can I fathom this way of peace? I can write a ton about candles and music and getaways, but this???

Somehow, I need to wrap my head around the idea that this peace is not the same as feeling serene. The presence of Jesus’s peace is not dependent on the presence of quiet or stillness or calmness—all the things I usually associate with peace. 

This peace is not a passing moment; it is a state of being. This peace reassures me I can trust—no matter what chaos I’m living in, no matter what happens—that I’m grounded in love that won’t go away.

From my all-too-human standpoint, I like to think of this peace as God’s way of saying, “I’ve got you!”

Here’s where sords fail me. So I need to borrow a few.

When I look at other scripture texts about peace, I’m struck by how scripture literally surrounds us with promises of God’s peace:

In the Old Testament:
“For the mountains may depart and the hills be removed, but my steadfast love shall not depart from you, and my covenant of peace shall not be removed, says the Lord, who has compassion on you.”—Isaiah 54:10

Jesus before his crucifixion:
“Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”—John 14:27

“I have said this to you so that in me you may have peace.”—John 16:33a

Jesus after his resurrection:
“When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors were locked where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.’”—John 20:19 [repeated twice more!]

In the letters of Paul:
“And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”—Philippians 4:7

These verses lead me to ask myself: Can I trust this peace that surrounds me, is in me, is in everything? I’m grateful when I can, and I keep praying, asking God for divine reassurance, when I can’t. 

As I often do, I return to the prayers of Ted Loder that are so embedded in me from my years of working with him. This one especially speaks to me about the peace of God that permeates everything, that grounds me and changes who I am in the world.

Eternal One,
Silence, from whom my words come;
Questioner, from whom my questions arise;
Lover, of whom all my loves are hints,
Disturber, in whom alone I find my rest.
Mystery, in whose depths I find healing;
Enfold me now in your presence;
Restore to me your peace,
Renew me through your power;
And ground me in your grace.
—“Ground Me in Your Grace,” from Guerrillas of Grace by Ted Loder

—Marcia Broucek, graphic designer for Narrative Alive

I welcome your comments about my reflections. If you have anything you want to share about your journey, I invite you to share your experience in the Comments field below.

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*Although Estonian composer Arvo Pärt may not be a familiar household name, his style of “holy minimalism” has gained a significant following.

Click here to read more of Marcia’s blog posts.

Click here to see the Narrative Alive graphics and sermon themes for the Narrative Lectionary reading “Thomas.”