Make Peace
The Lord . . . give you peace.
— Numbers 6
August is the eighth month of the year, and so, as we continue preparing throughout the year for the Twelve Days of Christmas, August points us toward the Eighth Day.
The Eighth Day of Christmas is New Year's Day. It is also the Feast of the Holy Name, remembering the day when the infant Jesus was circumcised and given the name announced before His birth. There is a lovely sense of beginning again in all of this. Eight has long been associated in Christian tradition with new beginnings, perhaps because seven completes the familiar cycle and the eighth day begins anew. Jesus was named on the eighth day, and the Beatitudes are traditionally numbered at eight.
Even the old Christmas song gives us eight maids a-milking. Some later Christian interpretations have connected them with those eight Beatitudes. Whether or not that was ever the carol's original intent, I like the association, particularly because one of those Beatitudes says:
“Blessed are the peacemakers.”
And that brings us directly to the Lectionary reading for the Feast of the Holy Name. In Numbers, God gives Aaron the beautiful blessing that Christians have repeated for generations: “The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face to shine upon you.” It ends with the words, “The Lord lift up his countenance upon you, and give you peace.”
Then God says something particularly appropriate for the Feast of the Holy Name:
“So they shall put my name on the Israelites, and I will bless them.”
A name. A blessing. And peace.
A few days ago I found myself, through a series of circumstances that could easily have gone another way, at 242 Community Church in Brighton. Pastor Mutheu Esilaba preached about shalom: God's peace as something whole, complete and aligned.
But then she made a distinction that brought me to tears.
There is a difference between peacekeeping and peacemaking.
I've spent a lot of my life thinking that keeping the peace was a virtue. Don't stir things up. Let it go. Don't have the difficult conversation. If everybody can remain in the same room without an argument breaking out, perhaps we've succeeded.
But that's not necessarily peace.
A peacemaker has to show up.
A peacemaker may have to bring people together, talk, listen, serve, apologize, forgive, ask questions and hear answers that are difficult to hear. Peacemaking can actually disturb the quiet precisely because the quiet wasn't shalom. It was merely the absence of open conflict.
That distinction landed hard for me because I've increasingly been learning to show up. When something is broken, my instinct has often been to go to the person and talk. Through much of my life, there has also frequently been a voice somewhere saying, “Don't stir things up,” or simply, “Let it go.”
Sometimes letting go is wise. Not every disagreement needs another meeting, and not every relationship can be repaired.
But I've begun to wonder how often “keeping the peace” has prevented us from making it.
Lately, when I have actually shown up, I've often discovered an opportunity for peace that wouldn't have existed otherwise.
Perhaps that gives me a practical rule for the future, particularly in this strange digital age where disagreement can become contempt with astonishing speed. When an online conversation begins turning into a genuine conflict, maybe the next move shouldn't be another comment.
“Would you like to get coffee?”
If distance makes that impossible, perhaps we look one another in the face over video and talk. Listen. Ask questions. Become human beings to one another again.
That won't resolve everything. Peacemaking requires willing people, and sometimes the invitation will be declined. But I can still decide what kind of person I intend to be.
August seems like a good month to make that decision.
The Dog Days can fool us into thinking everything is winding down. But September is coming. School begins again. Churches return to familiar fall rhythms. Homecomings and festivals appear. New seasons begin all around us.
And on this Eighth Month of Christmas, New Year's Day is waiting for us in the distance, carrying the Holy Name and God's ancient blessing:
“The Lord . . . give you peace.”
Not merely enough quiet to avoid trouble.
Shalom.
And Jesus tells us what to do with it.
Blessed are the peacemakers.

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