The Sweet Waters of Peace
I was 14 years old when rioting broke out on the streets of Northern Ireland, where I live. For 38 years I've lived through some of the darkest days of my province's history, in a world of car bombs, murders, punishment shootings, and people who have disappeared without a trace. The geography of Northern Ireland bears witness to the depth and extent of conflict. Names that should be locations on the map instead catalogue atrocity. The gruesome history is written on the walls of our cities. Many communities still experience a collective legacy of pain: 3,500 people lost their lives in the conflict in Northern Ireland, a significant number considering that the population is only 1.6 million people.
We now live in "peace." Images were shown worldwide of Ian Paisley (Democratic Unionist Party) and Martin McGuinness (Sinn Fein), the first and second ministers, forming a power sharing government in Northern Ireland. Yet on a recent radio program, the presenter highlighted the fact that a house was bombed the previous night. In the home was an 18-day-old infant. The presenter asked, "Will I ever see a day in Northern Ireland when people can safely live in their own homes?"
I listened intently as politicians, police, clergy, community workers, and residents called the program not to offer a solution, but to point a finger of blame at "the other side."
The roots of suffering go deep. Some people let those roots go down into the waters of bitterness. Revenge, accusation, and blame frequently pass the lips of those who drink from such waters. However, some feed on different water. Some people have asked God to make the waters sweet, just as the Israelites did: "When they came to Marah, they could not drink its water because it was bitter. (That is why the place is called Marah.) So the people grumbled against Moses, saying, 'What are we to drink?' Then Moses cried out to the LORD, and the LORD showed him a piece of wood. He threw it into the water, and the water became sweet" (Exodus 15:23-25).
What can ease the suffering inflicted by almost 40 years of violence? The wood of suffering that comes from Calvary's cross.
When people have been to the bitter waters and asked God to sweeten them with the precious wood that represents the sin and suffering of humanity, they walk a different walk and talk a different talk. They are known as peacemakers. Some in my province walk and talk differently than most people, and they contribute much to peace by reaching out to one person at a time.
God, help me to lead others to the wood that can make bitter water sweet, so that they can make a difference in my land.
Philip McAlister is field strategy coordinator for Northern Europe on the Eurasia Region.
Holiness Today, March/April 2008
Please note: This article was originally published in 2008. All facts, figures, and titles were accurate to the best of our knowledge at that time but may have since changed.
