Where Do We Find Peace?
For a long time, I did not understand why grown-ups always spoke of trying to get “peace and quiet”. It was as though “peace and quiet” was an elusive person forever inching forward, only to dash off in a hurry. Who wants “peace and quiet” when you can dive face-first into la vida loca?
I am out of sync with the rhythm of the hip and happening of our world, but I believe chaos is now referred to as “having fun”. I hold no knowledge of the intricacies of the mind, but I dare to say that a mild case of insanity could be diagnosed when one refers to chaos as “fun”. Perhaps I am finally growing up, or maybe I’m just boring, but these days I wouldn’t mind having some peace and quiet.
I imagine I am not alone in my experience of feeling increasingly weary, tired and worn out. I have had one too many naps that turned into embarrassingly long sleeps. I have woken up feeling sleepy and desperately wanting to crawl back into the fortress of sheets I built for myself.
I seem to keep myself spinning all in the name of productivity and socialising. I do too much, and I know it.
But now I often think to myself that if we truly believe that Jesus is “Emmanuel” (God is with us), then why are we making ourselves rats in a race? Why have we become balls of panic, pumped with anxiety? If we hold in our hearts that “the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us” and is truly in our midst, why are we so restless? If he gives us a chance to gaze upon his countenance, why are we so dizzy? Does Jesus not bring us his peace?
I am not a philosopher, but I wonder if we needed something as drastic as a pandemic to slow us down just a little. What else would it take for the hurriedness that we impose upon ourselves to dissipate? I do not suggest that we should become lazy or disengaged, but if we continue with our endless “activities”, then we shall tumble our way into the grave.
Peace be with you
I suppose this is the part where I define what peace actually is. To be honest, I am still learning about it, but I have come to accept that it necessitates the presence of order and silence. The former does in many ways bring us to contemplate the meaning of freedom. There was a time in my life when I thought freedom meant that I could do whatever I wanted. Isn’t it funny how this thinking seems to correlate with laziness, gluttony and filth?
There was also a time when I could not stand the humming of my own thoughts, and so I drowned them in a pool of pop music. And when that was not enough, I ventured into a dark, harrowing vortex known as Twitter.
But thankfully, Christ in his mercy gives us peace through his presence in the Eucharist. “And behold I am with you always, until the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20). When we place our freedom in him, we find ourselves and our lives ordered by the Most Holy Trinity.
So, you ask, just what is peace? It is the fruit of much time spent with the source of peace itself, which is God. He allows us to share in that peace by holding the Sacred Heart of his Son and by touching his holy wounds. I believe that the ache that we experience when we feel rushed or overwhelmed is a crying out for the body, blood, soul and divinity of Jesus.
There are only so many pills we can take and only so many spas we can visit. Our weariness and frazzled minds need an antidote stronger than anything money can buy.
How silent is his dwelling place
For heavy hearts that riot
Peace drenches the holy place
And chaos turns to quiet.
This article was published in the March 2022 issue of The Southern Cross magazine
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