Just Peace!

So Jeremiah goes out to buy a field, and you’d have to wonder why. As King Zedekiah points out, Jeremiah has prophesied, in the name of God, that the land of Judah will fall to the Babylonians, and, as we know, it did. But Jeremiah goes out to buy a field.

And it’s not just any field that Jeremiah buys. It’s a family field—the field of a cousin. And that’s significant for not only does Jeremiah have a right to buy the field to keep it in the family, he also has something of an obligation. He is a possible redeemer—a member of the family who is able to bail another member out in order that all members and all the property of the family stay in the family.

But still, why buy the field if the whole community is about to be uprooted—if there is little hope of avoiding the Babylonian captivity, and little chance that the land will not be taken over by others?

King Zedekiah may be at a loss in the story, but Jeremiah knows God’s plan, for God also is a redeemer and will not let the people of God be taken away completely, nor the land which God has given them be lost to them entirely. Well at least that’s the hope that is embodied in Jeremiah’s action. Jeremiah redeems a field ensuring that the title deeds will be safe for a long time—whatever the length of time there is for the people of God to be redeemed by God. Jeremiah is acting out his hope in the promises of God in an ordinary commercial transaction, and a common family practice.

The Babylonians may be besieging Jerusalem, but Jeremiah is acting out his hope in God’s peace, God’s restoration, beyond the battle raging and the captivity expected. In the midst of this chaos, Jeremiah buys a field.

I imagine that Jeremiah was not the only person doing ordinary things in the middle of the siege. People needed feeding; babies needed tending; water needed fetching; clothing and tools needed mending. Undoubtedly, anxiety and fear and insecurity were in abundance. But still the ordinary things needed doing.

It is the ordinary practices of everyday living that show where we place our hope. And Jeremiah buys a field expecting that God’s promises will be fulfilled beyond the chaos of the siege and a captivity. That’s the story of Jeremiah’s prophesy and hope—through chaos to peace.

The everyday practices of the rich man in Jesus’ story also revealed a hope; but this hope is not in a future beyond conflict and captivity. This hope is in the good things of life: fine food and fancy clothes—purple was the most expensive dye. This hope is not in sharing in community or helping out your neighbour. This hope is in status and power.

You would have thought that he might get it—Lazarus was just outside the gate with his sores and his hunger. Surely, this everyday sight was a powerful sign. And if that wasn’t enough, wasn’t the whole society based on the traditions of the Law and the Prophets, and didn’t these also speak of mercy to the widow, the orphan and the stranger—those in need of sustenance and support because they were disconnected from their families and communities.

The rich man has missed these everyday signs. He had been looking in the extraordinariness of the good life.

It’s easy to think that the signs of important things come with loud fanfares, glossy covers and rich clothing. It’s easy to look for cataclysms and Sydney Harbour fireworks displays to tell us where things are at and what’s important in life. But the real stuff of who we are and where we place our hope is in the ordinary, everydayness of routine family, community and business interactions.

Leo Tolstoy told the story of a cobbler, Martin Avdyeeich, who, having lost both his wife and child, was left in despair of life until someone pointed him to the stories of Jesus. Martin was engaged by the stories of the hospitality given to Jesus by Simon the Pharisee and the woman who anointed Jesus’ feet. He wished for the opportunity to afford such hospitality to Christ; and dreamed that he would be given it.

The next day, he avidly watched out for the coming of Christ, but there was only the old soldier Stepanuich, and Martin made him a cup of tea.

After Stepanuich left, Martin continued to look out for Christ, but there was only a woman and a child dressed too thinly for the cold, and Martin offered them some hot food.

When they left, Martin continued to look out for Christ, but there was only a widow and a young scoundrel trying to steal her apples, and Martin intervened, buying an apple for the boy and watching the boy assist the widow with her burden.

And still Martin watched for Christ until the end of the day. But he dreamt that night that Christ had come in the old soldier, Stepanuich, the woman and child dressed too thinly for the cold, and the widow and the young scoundrel.

So many times we look in the wrong places for the signs we seek when the hope we are promised is found in the routine everyday actions of an ordinary life. Jeremiah bought a field, but the rich man missed the poor man sitting at his gates.

This year’s Social Justice Sunday Statement from the Australian Catholic Bishops Conference asks Christians to ask themselves a series of questions about their everyday practices in order to counteract violence and promote peace.
1. How do we acknowledge the dignity of others?
2. How can we respond positively to anger?
3. How attentive are we to prayer and our spiritual development?
4. Are we prepared to seek help when we are not coping?
5. How can we foster strong families?
6. What can we contribute to the life of the community?
7. How does the community meet the needs of all its members?
8. How do we support and celebrate our cultural diversity?
9. Does our community reject violence?
10. Can we provide a meeting place [for reconciliation]?
11. Are we engaged in the life of our nation?
12. Are we aware of the most vulnerable?
13. Are we prepared to question assumptions and misinformation?
14. Will we defend the rights of others?

If we wait for a big sign to tell us what to do, we will wait in vain and miss out on it all together, but if every routine everyday interaction is an opportunity for living out our hope, we may just have peace, and a peace that is just!