for he is our peace.

This one’s pretty simple…
(click here for audio)

for he is our peace
in his flesh he’s made us one humanity
for he is our peace
by his blood he’s broken walls that divide us in hostility

you draw us all to yourself
you bring us all to your house
so we can know your love and praise your holy name
you draw us all to yourself
you bring us all to your house
so we can know your love and praise your holy name

This one comes directly from Paul’s correspondence to the churches in Ephesus, around AD60. In this particular part of the letter, his claim is that the gaping chasm between the chosen people of Israel and the foreigners has been bridged by Jesus’ death on the cross. He’s speaking directly into the potential temptation for Gentile Christians to feel inferior and separate from their Jewish Christian counterparts. They can look back on a collective past filled with alienation and lostness, and know that they look forward to the same intimacy with Jesus and fellow believers that has been made to Jewish believers. There is an equality of dignity, opportunity, and humanity that comes in the gospel, and the product is seen in the level of unity and community to which they are called.

I wrote this song after being in a discussion with some students about race and hearing the things that were said. I cannot remember all of what was said, but I remember feeling lost and separated in that room. I was lost in a sea of cultural majority, without my experience or my pain being spoken for, validated, advocated for. I felt so small, boxed in by the juxtaposition of some strong opinions and the desire not to shame my brothers and sisters. And as others interacted with comments in the room, the air was filled with subtle, yet painful misunderstanding, tension, and lingering questions everyone was afraid to ask. We were here to talk about race, but nobody was really talking. It made me think about this part of Paul’s letter precisely because of all the talk about breaking dividing walls and fellow citizens and one new man. We were (and we are) 4 different people, not seeking to give any glory to God for who he had made us to be, but seeking to exalt our cultural and ethnic stories because that’s the only way we know to interact with our culture.

But it’s really quite simple. Jesus Christ is one man, looking to turn us into one man, sharing one house, with the same ONE Father, Son, and Spirit. And so there’s no room for us to huddle together in our own ethnic bubbles because there’s no way that Jesus can do what He’s died to do if we’re stuck together in little mono-colored ballons.

When Paul says, “For he is our peace,” he’s talking about shalom. And for the Jewish people, they know how big that is. We translate it as “peace,” but apparently that’s a really watered down summary of the word. From what I understand, shalom implies a togetherness that comes from correct relationships; with people, with God, and with the other elements of creation. Peacefulness is how you can characterize those relationships, but what makes shalom is the complete interconnectedness demonstrated by the peaceful relationships between God, humanity, and nature.

I wrote this song because we need peace. The world needs peace, and the church needs peace. We hear it over and over again: “Sunday is the most segregated day of the week.” And as much as that may make us pause, I think it’s because we’re offended, and not because we’re moved to compassion. Because to stop the segregation on Sunday would mean to stop our racism and prejudice and stereotyping and fear from Monday-Saturday. And if the church won’t obey Jesus and lead our country into renouncing its xenophobia, then who will? We need peace. And that’s Jesus. His broken body on the cross signifies the creation of a salvation that crosses all ethnic and cultural bounds. His blood is the blood of God’s new covenant, available to any and all who believe in him.

Our current witness of Jesus tells people that he doesn’t care about the needy or the stranger, and that’s heresy. Our current witness of Jesus has him hating minorities and despising foreigners, and that’s unbiblical. Here I am, a minority in this country, trying to hear from Jesus that he loves me and has a purpose for my life, and our church is the first to say that I don’t, closely followed by the rest of society. Might you be able to see why I might write such a song? I wrote it for me. I wrote it to listen to when I feel like I’ve been sufficiently lied to and I need to hear the truth. I listen to it when people like Don Imus happen or things like the Jena 6 happen.

I listen to it when I feel like the reason that I decided to follow Jesus could simply be a pipe dream.