My Peace Be Upon You
There is an important lexical connection between two key Hebrew words. There was in the Hebrew heart a longing for shalom, for peace. The consummation of shalom was prefigured for the Hebrew on the shahot, or Sabbath. There is no rest where there is war. There is rest where there is peace. All of our lives are that great journey through the wilderness, in the context of warfare, that we might enter the land of rest, and enjoy peace with God. This is why there is no rest for the wicked, for they can have no peace.
But there is a rest for those putting to death their wickedness. That is, this very journey that is as true for us as it was for the Hebrews of old, is also a part of our daily life. Sin is a destroyer of peace in our homes. And with that destruction, there is likewise no rest. In her Tending Your Garden column, my dear wife argues over the importance of peace in the home. She rightly notes that while men have a more outward calling, and women are to focus on tending the garden that is the home, such doesn't mean that when men return from the jungle after a long day that they have entered their rest. Rather it means that they must see to it that peace has prevailed in their absence. If it has not, then it is incumbent upon the head of the home to lead the family through the wilderness of sin, into the Promised Land.
These twin desires are not at peace. We want to rest after a long day. But you cannot rest where there is no peace. And so first things must come first. First we discipline, and then we rest. Years ago in a Practicum column I wrote on the spiritual discipline of corporal discipline. There I outlined some wisdom on the how of spanking. I emphasized the importance, not ultimately to the child, but to the parent, of not spanking in anger. We fail at this when we think our children exist for our well-being, rather than the other way around. But even more important than this, is that the spanking must come to an end. And with it, the battle ends as well.
Our spankings, though they can begin for a whole host of reasons that fall under the one rule- obey mommy and daddy- all end the same way. Having received their pain, the child hops up, hugs mommy or daddy and says, "I'm sorry." Now here is where we so often confuse the child. What follows next too often is some variation on this theme, "It's alright." Now there are times when this is the appropriate response. I often receive apologies for actions that in no way offended me. I often receive them for events of which I remained blissfully unaware. Here I am pleased to put my friend at ease, to let them know not only that no offense was taken, but that none was given. Where there is sin, however, that is not our response.
Of course we must be quick to forgive one another. But forgiving an offence is an altogether different thing from denying the offence ever occurred. Instead mommy or daddy always responds, "I love you and I forgive you." As the child often continues to cry, we will often hold the child tight, rock the child and remind them, "It's all over now." At this point peace has been restored. At this point there is no more animosity. At this point we too have let go of the offence, as we are called to do. There are more steps that I covered in that previous column, helpful steps, joyful steps. But all these steps are on the far side of the Jordan. We have already crossed over into the Promised Land.
Denise, in her column in the previous issue, spoke of the unspoken reality in our children. She mentioned, that, with some degree of exceptions, there is a visible, tangible difference in the faces of homeschooled children and those who are schooled away from the home. There are any number of contributing factors for the comparative innocence in the eyes of homeschoolers. I would argue that one of those reasons is found right here. Our children, though they can and do break the peace in their disobedience, nevertheless live in a context of peace. They live in a home where peace is restored, when it is lost, because there is always time for that. They live in a world in which wrongs are let go, because there is always time for that. They live in world where peace is administered by the very parents who love them enough to keep them at home.
More important still is this- that our declaration of peace to our children is connected with the forgiveness of our heavenly Father. The response to repentance is not only that I love and forgive, but that God loves and forgives. And like their earthly father, I remind the children that even before their particular repentance, God always loves them. That is, even as He and I wait to hear the repentance, we do not wait to love our children.
It is, ironically, this very peace that enables them to go and fight the war
faithfully. That is, we do not prepare them for the "real world" by
bringing the "real world" of bitterness, backbiting, and score-keeping
into the home. They can handle the slings and arrows of the world around them
only when they know there is a place where there is peace. That place is ultimately
their heavenly home. It is proximately their earthly home. The innocence then
is not a hindrance, but a weapon of our warfare. It is, for us and our children, "feet
fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace." To raise
up mighty warriors, we need to raise up princes and princesses of peace. To
lead them into the victory of Sabbath, we must teach them the glory of shalom.