"We seldom get into trouble when we speak softly. It is only when we raise our voices that the sparks fly and tiny molehills become great mountains of contention."
What
a terribly narcissistic title. I can explain. Just keep reading.
One
of my favorite Christmas hymns is “I Heard the Bells on
Christmas Day.” I love its message, that despite the strife
and turmoil in the world, God is in control, and right will prevail.
I
just learned that the hymn we sing is a modified version of the
original poem, which was written by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow during
the Civil War. Longfellow lost his wife in a horrible accident in
1861.
The
Christmas after her death, he wrote, “How inexpressibly sad are
the holidays.” The next year, he recorded in his journal, “A
merry Christmas, say the children, but that is no more for me.”
Then his son Charles, a lieutenant in the Union Army, was shot. In
1864, the civil war was raging, and Longfellow wrote his poem,
“Christmas Bells.” (For a more detailed history, click
here.
When
John Baptiste Calkin wrote the music, he omitted the fourth and fifth
verses, which go like this:
Then from each black accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn
The households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
A
hundred and fifty years later, we don’t have much cannon fire
in the South, at least not where I live. Yet the next verse of
Longfellow’s poem still rings (pun intended) true.
And in despair I bowed my head;
"There is no peace on earth," I said;
"For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"
Now
usually, when we talk about peace on earth, we feel fairly helpless
because we have so little control over international affairs. If
Vladimir Putin has a bad hair day, it will probably have more effect
on world events than everything I do in my entire life.
So
we all agree that if we had a time machine, we should go back and
kill Hitler. If we ever meet a genie, we should wish for world
peace. Other than that, we feel that there isn’t much we can
do.
This
idea of a geopolitical route to peace is nothing new. During
Christ’s time, the Jews assumed the Messiah would free them
from Roman captivity. Instead, His work was more subtle,
penetrating, and permanent. Rather than changing borders, He changed
hearts.
In
general, conflicts are ignited on an individual level as people
become emotionally committed. Leaders capitalize on the fear and
hatred felt by the masses. These feelings have three main causes.
A lack of understanding.
A feeling of having been wronged. This may come from legitimate or perceived grievances.
Human nature.
Jesus
Christ, rightfully called the Prince of Peace, overcame all three.
He understood people, even to the point of perceiving their thoughts.
He readily forgave people who wronged him.
He resisted the temptation to give in to the natural man.
The
Messiah’s teachings were radically different from the Hebrew
law and oral tradition at the time. He infuriated many leaders
because he told them, in public, that they were wrong. However,
when He dealt with individuals, even those with whom He disagreed, He
showed them love, kindness, and understanding.
And
so it should be in our own actions. We can disagree with policies
and principles without being hateful.
Modern
political discourse is full of generalizations. Many conservatives
worry about illegal immigrants bringing diseases and stealing our
jobs. Meanwhile, liberal feminists complain that men are pigs. The
recent Ferguson protests focused on the divide between black and
white.
It
all boils down to ‘us vs not-us.’ When we look at trends
and stereotypes, as opposed to individuals, conflict occurs more
readily.
It
is much easier to hate a group of people than an average person in
that group. In some communities, say a society of serial killers, or
an Adolf Hitler fan club, everyone is bad. Usually though, hated
groups have a few members causing most of the problems, while
everyone else is just a regular person, not much different from you
or me.
Although
we cannot perceive thoughts, as Jesus did, we can spend time with
people, serve them and ask respectful questions. As we get to know
individuals who initially seem so different from us, we find
attributes we have in common with them. Strangers become friends.
So,
on one side, we have large and catastrophic events that lead to rifts
and conflict. Very few of us have much influence on that scale. On
the other side, there is the individual healing that comes from
following the example set by the Prince of Peace, whose love has been
healing hearts for millennia.
I
may never meet a genie, or build a time machine, but I can show love
to my fellow man. In that way, peace on earth begins with me. It is
my responsibility. I can join my voice with that of Henry Wadsworth
Longfellow, and so many other good people around the world in saying,
"God is not dead; nor doth he sleep!
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men!"
When Sydney Van Dyke was five years old, she wanted to be an inventor like her grandfather. She grew up surrounded by engineers and decided that was what she wanted to be as well.
She went to Utah State University to earn her BS in Biological Engineering. While there, she met and married fellow engineering student Jarret Bone. They are the proud parents of Emelia Rose, born the summer before they finished their senior year of school.
Sydney Bone is now adjusting to the change of pace that comes with being a stay-at-home mom. She loves having time for her family, with some leftover to explore the things she loves to do.
Sydney still wants to be like her grandfather, but she is now focused on emulating his kindness and generosity, rather than his impressive professional qualifications.
Sydney is currently serving as a gospel doctrine teacher in her home ward.