Imagine yourself in quiet, peaceful place, perhaps a little stained-glass chapel or a comfortable sofa in front of a crackling fire, or maybe a meadow in piney woods on a calm, sunny day–the kind of day where a gentle breeze carries an earthy fragrance from the sun-warmed blanket of pine needles on the ground, where no human sound can be heard, just the profound quiet of nature, and where a deep peace seems to embrace your very soul, as if all were truly well and time itself were to disappear, making one moment the same as an eternity.

Now imagine yourself in the middle of the most hectic part of whatever makes up your daily life, full of dishes and bills and cell phones and deadlines, illnesses, misunderstandings and mistakes, $4 gas and traffic jams, perhaps while driving to get a massage to help you feel peaceful and relaxed. Imagine reading the news about home foreclosures, political strife and endless war. Then imagine that in the midst of all of that, or whatever else brings stress into your life, the same deep peace you imagined before pervaded everything–a calm inner core to weather whatever storms life may bring.

This deep inner peace has been an objective of religious seekers for as many centuries as human life and religion have existed. There is no magic formula for deep peace, but there are ways to nurture it in our lives. As Unitarian Universalists, we draw upon the transcending mystery and wonder that has renewed the spirits of seekers in all cultures and all ages. Also as Unitarian Universalists, besides inward peace, we seek peace in our relationships with other people, and peace in the world in which we live. We long for peace especially on this Memorial Day weekend as we mourn with respect the lives that have been lost in war. At each level, what we long for is not a surface peace of avoidance, suppression or denial, but the deep peace of inner well-being, of right relationship with other people, and of peace with justice in the world. Deep peace is more than a calm feeling or a lack of open conflict. Deep peace is more lasting, and it does not require us to close our eyes to the troubles of the world–instead, it lets us keep our eyes wide open without becoming overwhelmed. It is relatively easy to foster a sense of peacefulness in our personal lives when we can find or create the right setting, like the sunny day in the woods, a meditation class, or a quiet afternoon with someone we love, although even then our turbulent thoughts can trouble our minds. There is great value in these peaceful settings and moments, if we are blessed to have them or find the means to create them in our lives. But they are not places to stay indefinitely. The times we need inner peace the most are often when it can be most difficult to keep: when tempers flare, when time is short, when losses are raw, or when the problems of the world weigh heavily upon us. (I know it can be hard, as in the brief moment I thought I left my sermon on Deep Peace at home and felt deep peace flying right out the window. But never fear.) The real goal is to find an inner peace that stays with us in all circumstances–a peace that sustains us in good times and bad, that goes deeper than the roller coaster of our thoughts and emotions, that frees us from existential fear, and that gives us the courage to act on behalf of deep peace in the wider world.

Peace is a common theme in Unitarian Universalist life and worship. Nearly every UU service I have seen ends with the words, “Go in peace,” and many congregations sing our children to their classes with the song, “Go Now In Peace.” There are quite a few choices of hymns and readings from our hymnal on the topic of peace. There is also a long history of peace activism in Unitarian Universalism. About eighty General Assembly resolutions since merger in 1961 have addressed issues of peace in the world.

Nevertheless, we are not one of the historical peace churches such as the Friends and the Mennonites, who reject war and violence in all circumstances. We have had strong pacifist leaders in Unitarian Universalist history, including John Haynes Holmes, a minister at Church of the Messiah in New York who held firmly to pacifism during World War I. But he and other pacifist Unitarian ministers paid a price for their stand. Former U.S. President William Howard Taft, who was then President of the General Conference of Unitarians, denounced Holmes and offered a resolution stating that the war must be carried to success to “stamp out militarism in the world.” The resolution passed among the Unitarians 236-9. Many pacifist Unitarian ministers were treated as traitors, denied financial aid by the American Unitarian Association, and only six of about fifteen of them were still in their pulpits by the end of the war. Holmes himself withdrew from fellowship but led a socially active renewal of his congregation, which was renamed “Community Church.”

Now, the Unitarian Universalist Association is revisiting the idea of what it would mean to be a Peace Church, and whether that is what we are or want to be. We are nearing the end of the second year since a Peacemaking resolution was approved as a Study Action Issue for UU congregations. This coming November a Statement of Conscience will be drafted based on feedback from participating congregations. There will be an opportunity to give feedback on that statement next January or February. In the meantime, the Peacemaking Study Action Issue will be the subject of our last Explorations! session before summer, led by our Peace, Liberty and Justice Task Force, next Sunday at 11:00 in the chapel. You may want to consider coming for the early service and staying for that final Explorations! of the year.

I don’t expect the process of creating a UU Statement of Conscience on peace to be easy, especially since the history of war and peace issues in our faith tradition have rarely been easy. We are probably as united on issues of peace today as we have ever been. Even so, I know there are people here at JUC who still support the war in Iraq, even if most do not. Among those who oppose it, I know there are differences of opinion about how and why we got into the war. I know some of us consider ourselves pacifists, while others believe war is necessary in some circumstances. Traditional Just War Theory fell out of favor in many circles after the advent of nuclear weapons, but there is some renewed interest today, and it is a subject of discussion in the Study Action Issue materials. Some here would surely defend it while others would not, and there is plenty of room to debate what it would mean today.

It is essential whenever we discuss difficult issues such as these that we seek and practice deep peace in our interpersonal relationships. This means listening to and respecting one another even when we disagree, speaking honestly for ourselves while avoiding ad hominem attacks or attribution of negative motives to others. It means practicing forgiveness when we slip and letting go of grudges, being aware of the frailties of human perception and emotion, and allowing dissent while also respecting the will of the whole, so that we are not paralyzed from collective statements or action by a lack of unanimous agreement. All of these things are easier said than done, but I am encouraged by how many more positive than negative examples I see in communication and relationships at JUC. There has been a strong interest here in learning the principles of nonviolent communication, and I hope that will continue. One of the hardest but most important places to find deep peace is in our relationships with each other, and it is well worth all the effort we give to nurture it.

When it comes to deep peace in the world, the challenge is even greater, because so much is beyond our control. Still, to the extent that we have any influence collectively as well as individually, just what is our message? That is part of what the Study Action Issue is about. No matter how clearly I long for peace in the world, I know I struggle myself with what it would mean to be a Peace Church. I understand the strong appeal of principled pacifism and pure nonviolence. I tell my own children never to hit each other--I don’t teach them that it’s OK as long as they can rationalize it with some form of Just Hitting Theory.

At the same time, I don’t want them to be defenseless if they are attacked by bullies or others who wish them harm. Now, I do think the stereotype of the picked-upon kid who finally fights back and then gains respect and is left alone is an overrated idea. In real life, fighting back is actually more likely to lead to increased violence in retaliation, not less out of newfound respect, and there are other strategies for dealing with bullies. As I have said on other occasions, I believe that especially in American society we greatly overestimate the usefulness of force or violence for fulfilling our needs and desires, including for safety. But physical force or the potential for it can still play a role in restraining other violence, as I acknowledge if I call the police for protection. The problem is, as soon as we create tools of violence for defense or protection, how do we avoid their abuse for more aggressive or destructive purposes?

This is exactly why our nation’s founders planned for us not to have a standing army, concerned about the temptation to become the aggressors in war, then draining our resources in far-flung adventures, the downfall of many an empire. Now we are doing exactly that. Readiness may demand an ongoing military force, but we have moved far, far beyond what we need for truly defensive purposes. And as thoroughly as we have failed the principles of pacifism or nonviolence, we have done little better by the standards of Just War. As far as I can tell, because of the choices of our leaders, the war and ongoing occupation in Iraq fail every test of classic Just War Theory, from clear and just cause and proportionate response to legitimate use of authority, right intention, probability of success, and use of war only as a last resort. Now we mourn another 600 U.S. military deaths in Iraq since Memorial Day last year, and this loss is only a fraction of the continuing death, destruction and waste of resources that this conflict has brought, including losses of innocent Iraqi lives that we would never accept if they were our own. The somewhat lower levels of death in recent months are welcome in comparison to the months before, but even that is fragile and at enormous cost, essentially buying off all sides, in a manner that cannot last indefinitely. And yet again our leaders lack the courage to stop throwing good money after bad, at a cost that will burden generations to come.

Wars are often fought in the name of peace, but they are usually a poor means to that end. Even World War I, the war to end all wars, did not stamp out militarism as Taft and the Unitarians who supported him hoped. If any war is thought of as a good war, it is World War II, but the modern military industrial complex was one of its consequences. Even if our nation could use this military force to utterly dominate and pacify the world, which is the neocon fantasy, it would be the shallow peace of suppression, not the deep peace of justice, equity, and resolution of underlying problems. Aside from the economic unsustainability of the domination strategy, it only feeds hostility that requires even greater suppression and force to keep the so-called peace. Such a strategy can only end in disaster. Deep peace in the world would require serious commitment to address core problems of poverty, environmental sustainability, and new energy alternatives instead of a series of oil wars for control of that dwindling resource. These are daunting goals, indeed, but for the most part right now we are not even trying.

If the meaning of the deaths we mourn on Memorial Day are truly in our hands; if we do not want their deaths to be in vain, the answer is not to sacrifice even more lives on the same altar. The answer is to learn, truly learn, and turn to a better way. Even the pacifists among us can honor the bravery and sacrifice of those who have died in war, and support proper benefits and care for those who return, while pointing the way to a future with fewer deaths to mourn, not more. Only if we learn the right lessons from the sacrifices that have been made will their deaths not be in vain. May we therefore be open to learn and to act accordingly.

When we consider the enormous challenge of seeking deep peace in the world, it is easy to despair. That is when we need the resource of deep peace in our personal lives. The point of deep peace at a personal level is not to escape, but to give us the inner strength and balance to keep going. When you find yourself so wrought up or exhausted that you can barely face the challenges of life, that may be the time for the kind of retreat that gives perspective and restores balance, whether through meditation, the support of friends or small groups, a good night’s sleep or a reflective walk in the woods. But then, if retreat becomes too comfortable, it may be time to challenge yourself again to become more active in using your gifts for the good of others and the world.

Deep peace is in some ways a perspective on life, part acceptance and non-attachment, part love and compassion, and part fearless courage to live as we hear God or our best selves calling us to live. Nurturing deep peace begins with accepting ourselves and the world we live in, with clear, open and loving eyes. That includes acknowledging the reality of violence and suffering in the world, even though we do not seek it. It means accepting our own fears and imperfections, as well as not ignoring our abilities and potential. It even means accepting our mortality, regardless of what may or may not follow when we die. Knowing that we will die can be terrifying, but acceptance of that reality can also be liberating, reminding us that even the worst circumstances will pass, and freeing us from wasting our whole lives attempting never to die. There are truly things worse than death, such as never really living at all, or living only in fear, selfishness, obsession with safety, or denial of reality.

So what else can we do to foster deep peace in our lives? Besides sacred spaces, deep peace can be fed by the disciplines of music or sports, by spiritual practices such as mantras and meditation, or by readings that give us perspective. I think of the passages from the Bible that ask what we gain by worrying, and remember how many of my worries are beyond my control and how often they seem silly in retrospect. I find Buddhist writers such as Pema Chodron to be very helpful at times, and I love the Buddhist ideal of living with a kind of detachment, free from fear, yet like a Bodhisattva, voluntarily re-entering the world to act with compassion. If we learn to observe our daily activities and engage in them with awareness and compassion, deep peace can flourish even in the middle of hectic or difficult lives. Deep peace may involve a kind of inward calm, but it is also consistent with raucous fun and laughter, patient waiting and tears, serious work and commitment. Sometimes it helps to remind ourselves of the marvel of our very existence, the gift that we are here at all, meditating with reverence on the amazing story of life and our place within it.

However it happens, when deep peace grows within us, we are in the best place possible to foster deep peace in our relationships, our communities and the world. As proclaimed by Lao-Tse long ago, there is a connection between peace in our hearts and peace in the world. You can no more stop all war tomorrow than I can, but we can stand up together to question the premises of empire and domination, to lift up the checks and balances that help prevent abuses of power, and to envision a more peaceful future and be inspired to work for it.

Deep peace is an aching, joyful calm that we may never fully attain, but that empowers us as it grows to live courageous and meaningful lives. It is much more than avoidance of conflict, escape from painful realities, or even a temporary absence of war enforced by a threat of violence. These are shallow forms of peace not worthy of the word. Deep peace is rooted in love, justice, and freedom from fear. For you, for this congregation, for the families of those lost in war and remembered this Memorial Day, and for the world in which we live, I wish today and every day for the blessing of deep peace.

May we find it; may it be so.