The difficult reality of peace is that we often seek it only when we are under threat. This week’s Old Testament lesson emphasizes this idea, observing that at the time of this lesson, Israel was surrounded by three different enemies.

But the idea of peace has a very different idea and context in the gospel. Not only should we seek peace because it is the ideal state in which we can practice gospel principles, but we also seek to become peaceful people, through relying on the arm of God.

LDS poetry frequently calls for peace, especially (but not exclusively) in reaction to the world wars of the last century. While the center of the Church and the majority of its members were not threatened by the wars, the failure of the world to keep the peace led to both prayers and poetry.

 

Trusting in God will bring me peace.

Often peace is violated by things outside of our control, leading us to rely on God for peace. But even that requires something from us—faith in His power and His willingness to help.

In the following poem, poet Mat. Thomas gives the example of the storm on the Sea of Galilee to show how relying on God for peace is crucial.

 

1898

 

I can defend the truth, even when it’s unpopular.

In the material covered in the lesson, the prophet Micaiah has to tell the King what he doesn’t want to hear. This seems like it is often true in our days, when many of our government and leaders seem bent on militarism and violating the peace. When patriotism is so connected to military might and winning, can we tell the truth and call for peace?

Perhaps this poem can help us find the courage to go against the popular perception and actively seek peace from our leaders and our country.

 

Who will tread the paths of virtue,

Who will conquer in the fight,

Who will heed the voice of reason,

Who will dare do what is right?

Truth is mighty— truth is onward—

Who will heaven’s blessings share,

Who will shun the powers of evil,

Who will boldly do and dare?

 

Who among earth’s sons and daughters

Will for truth and virtue stand?

Who will stand with faith unshaken

Firm and true, a valiant band

For the cause of love and freedom?

Who will persecution bear

For the sake of heaven’s pure kingdom?

Who will boldly do and dare?

 

Who’ll stand firm against temptation,

Who will face the alien band,

Who’ll defend the cause of freedom,

And for truth and justice stand?

Who will nobly brave the pressure

Of vile scoffers who declare

War against God and His kingdom?

Who will boldly do and dare?

 

Virtuous souls with faith unshaken

Love the right and stand the test;

These are they who tread life’s journey

In the paths of righteousness.

These are valiant for God’s kingdom,

These will heaven’s blessings share;

Truth and right alone will triumph—

Noble souls will do and dare.

1886

 

In difficult times, I can turn to God and His prophets.

One of the reasons we need peace is that it allows us to hear both God and His prophets. When we don’t have peace, we need a prophetic voice to tell us how to obtain the peace that the Lord wants to provide us. Can we hear? The image of the still, small voice is important because it operates in peace, when we have stopped, calmed our emotions, and listened carefully to what we should do.

George H. Brimhall is most often remembered as an early president of Brigham Young University. He also was a fine poet, whose work is crying for a published collection. Here, Brimhall makes the connection between the still, small voice that revelation often comes in and a number of different roles in life. Do we listen to the voice in the ways that match who we are? Are we listening? Or have we let the lack of peace in the world drown out the voice of God?

 

The still, small voice to the Prophet said,

Speak, speak, speak,

Proclaim the power of God o’er head,

Speak, speak, speak.

The still, small voice to the poet said,

Sing, sing, sing,

Before thy voice despair hath fled,

Sing, sing, sing.

The still, small voice to the scientist said,

Seek, seek, seek,

Bring forth the truth from its curtained bed,

Seek, seek, seek.

The still, small voice to the artist said,

Make, make, make,

Let comfort’s car be onward sped,

Make, make, make.

The still, small voice to the teacher said,

Teach, teach, teach,

By children’s needs let man be led,

Teach, teach, teach.

The still small voice to the statesman said,

Plan, plan, plan,

For freedom’s ever forward tread,

Plan, plan, plan.

The still, small voice to the toiler said,

Rise, rise, rise,

Let labor proudly hold up its head,

Rise, rise, rise.

The still, small voice to the wealthy said,

Help, help, help,

That all may earn, be clothed and fed,

Help, help, help.

The still, small voice to the nations said,

Peace, peace, peace,

Let gods of war no more be fed,

Peace, peace, peace.

The still, small voice to the peace world said,

Grow, grow, grow,

O, tree of joy with branches spread,

Grow, grow, grow.

1930

 

Pride leads to destruction.

It’s no surprise that pride is one of the major impediments to peace. Isn’t it pride that leads tyrants to start war? Isn’t it pride that leads leaders to react with “not on my watch!” Isn’t it pride that leads soldiers to rely on the strengths of their arms? Isn’t it pride that leads some of us to believe we are justified in violating the peace of others?

Octave F. Ursenbach, whose parents had joined the Church in Switzerland and who had served a mission there, decried the loss of peace during World War I, seeing in it the failure of education to counter “unbridled passions.” His call echoes concerns that many of us have today. Tragically, Ursenbach would later serve as the mission president in France in the late 1930s, and had to close that mission for yet another failure to preserve the peace.

 

Alas! these centuries of Christian freedom,

That fain would teach mankind to live aright,

Result, in lieu of peace, a pandemonium.

Is Christ the author of this awful plight?

Pray what is wrong with all our education

That fails to teach mankind true brotherhood;

Resulting in the wide-spread inclination

To destroy life by shedding human blood.

The vials of wrath are poured upon the nations –

The human heart stalks in the throes of shame –

Sweet virtue valued not – unbridled passions –

Diseased mankind, unfit to bear Christ’s name.

In lieu of deeds of peace, man kills his brother –

War’s dreadful engines of destruction rage –

The acts of fiendish demons mercy smother –

Reluctantly we read each daily page.

Our world wide system of false education,

Must bow in shame to an imperfect plan;

The unclean thoughts and deeds of every nation

Can be attributed to learned men.

Pray not for peace, ’till man shall love man better,

And chaste life build a nobler, cleaner race;

’Till moral deeds shall supersede the letter;

Pure thoughts be read upon the human face.

Why sue for peace, when nations thus have stumbled?

How can peace come when life is valued not.

War must proceed ’till haughty pride is humbled

And secret vice shall cease its fiendish plot.

1918

 

I can be a peacemaker.

So what can we do? When the failure to keep the peace so often comes at the national level, and so often involves political forces beyond anything we can hope to influence. How do we create peace?

I wish I had a clear and easy formula. But I do know that we can start by simply committing ourselves to pursuing peace. Here poet Henry W. Naisbitt calls on us to make it a matter of covenant — and I believe the covenants that we make in the Temple include such a commitment. Can we renounce violence? Can we insist that our leaders pursue peaceful policies? Can we truly be peacemakers?

 

Wouldst come to my soul, oh beneficent peace?

Come and dwell in that fortress, a thrice welcome guest;

Thy presence so royal need ask no release,

My homage is worship, I love thee the best.

Thy sway absolute as a tyrant could ask,

My home as a palace of duty should shine;

Who would not thee cherish?—a lovable task—

Come dwell with me peace, I will ever be thine.

I have felt the cold chill of unrest in the past;

I have dwelt in the darkness, oppressed by its gloom;

I have tasted that cup which was bitter at last,

And my soul, has felt empty, an unfurnished room.

I have met with the friendless, been friendless myself,

I have stared at the blank wall of silence and hate,

There are blessings unpurchased by jingle of pelf,

There are curses which seem as the dicta of fate.

Peace flies from the demons of sinning and wrong,

She furls her bright banner when these carry sway;

Can we exorcise them by the siren of song,

Or in the dark midnight give sunshine of day?

Oh Peace! thou immaculate, sinless, divine,

Wilt dwell with the weakest of earth’s erring sons?

Wilt barter thy house where the cherubims shine,

For the tenement owned of earth’s desolate ones?

Oh, I hear thy glad voice, it is music most sweet,

Thou art nigh, o’er my soul steals thy dear witching spell,

I open the door of my heart to thy feet,

With a prayer to the skies, that my welcome shall tell.

‘Tis a God-given promise, thy presence should be,

With the few, who would seek in acceptable way,

And the Gospel will make thee the guest of the free,

Who obedience learnt in unsanctified day.

Come in, and abide then, beneficent peace.

Thy chamber prepared is a soul purified;

Be my guest, and my friend until this life shall cease,

Then give me thy welcome, at home, with the tried!

1890