When we moved to Quebec, I had to adapt to a new way of greeting people. The greeting I received in other parts of Canada was a sturdy handshake which related goodwill without getting too close. In French society, it was a quick kiss on both cheeks, a rather intimate gesture if you are not used to it. I still find it a bit awkward, especially when you can't remember which cheek goes first. I have not greeted anyone with a kiss since March (due to the pandemic) and I sort of miss it. The kiss of greeting reflects vulnerability and a willingness to welcome others into one's personal space, to assume a certain closeness, even with strangers. It is, in many ways, a physical representation of hospitality and welcome.
In Psalm 85, we read: "Unfailing love and truth have met on their way; righteousness and peace have kissed one another" (The Voice Translation). The word "righteousness" is from the Hebrew tsedeq which means to make right and it is sometimes translated "justice." It is not so much a moral category (like uprightness or decency) but the idea of things being as they should be. A suitable word for this might be "right-ness."
"Peace" is from the Hebrew word shalom which incorporates the ideas of health, prosperity, wellness, rest, safety, wholeness, and harmony. Lisa Sharon Harper describes it this way: "Shalom is what the Kingdom of God smells like ... It's when everyone has enough. It's when families are healed. ... It's when human dignity, bestowed by the image of God in all humanity, is cultivated, protected, and served in families, faith communities, and schools and through public policy." [1]
So what does it mean for right-ness and peace to kiss, to embrace, to be in close proximity to each other, to extend welcome and hospitality to the other? One story which illustrates the interplay between justice and peace is found in 2 Kings 7.
The king of Aram has attacked and laid siege to Samaria. The enemy camp surrounds the city for so long that there is a great famine within the city. Four men with a skin disease, outside the gates of the city due to their status as outcasts, fare especially badly. They are staring death in the face, so they say to each other: "What are we doing sitting here until we die? If we decide, ‘Let’s go into the city,’ the famine is there, and we’ll die in the city. But if we stay here, we’ll die just the same. So let’s go and surrender to the Aramean camp. If they let us live, we’ll live. If they kill us, we’ll die."
The men set out for the Aramean camp and when they arrive, they find it deserted. The text tells us that "the Lord had made the Aramean camp hear the sound of chariots, horses, and a strong army. They had said to each other, 'Listen! Israel’s king has hired the Hittite and Egyptian kings to come against us!' So they had got up and fled in the evening, leaving their tents, horses, and donkeys. They left the camp exactly as it was and ran for their lives."
The four men who were ready to embrace death just a few hours ago are now beside themselves. They enter a tent and stuff themselves with food. They also gather up silver, gold, and clothing and stash the loot away for safekeeping. They enter another tent, take more goods, and hide them. But then the men pause. Something is wrong. They turn to each other and say: "What we’re doing isn’t right. Today is a day of good news, but we’re keeping quiet about it. If we wait until dawn, something bad will happen to us. Come on! Let’s go and tell the palace." So that's what they do. They go back to the city gate and tell the gatekeepers about all that they have seen, that the attackers' camp is empty and all their tents and animals and goods are left behind. The gatekeepers waste no time in spreading the good news. [2]
Where is peace present in this story? The obvious answer is that peace comes when the enemy retreats and the city is no longer under siege. Where does right-ness show up? One could say it is when the men with a skin disease share their good fortune with the people inside the city. But there are more layers to the story.
The conflict between Aram and Israel (and the prophet Elisha) is ongoing. In the past, mercy has been shown to Aram's army through Elisha's intervention (sparing their lives, giving them food and water), but the king of Aram insists on keeping the conflict going. As a result of this particular attack, the people in Samaria are in a desperate state: a donkey head, what Robert Alter refers to as "the most inedible part of an unclean animal," is selling for an outrageous amount and dove dung is in high demand as well. [3] The conflict and injustice experienced by the people in the story stem from the conflict between the two nations.
But there is conflict and injustice within Samaria as well. Inside the city, people are fighting over food. The king of Israel blames Elisha for this terrible turn of events and wants to have the prophet killed. The men with skin disease are considered unclean and live as outcasts, not allowed in the city. They depend on the goodwill of others to survive, and the siege has dried up any food or resources that might come their way. The conflict has reinforced the injustice of their devalued status. They are so desperate for food and so sure that no one in Samaria will help them that they decide to put themselves at the mercy of the enemy.
When the four men come to the enemy camp and find it deserted, right-ness and peace enter the story and become inseparable. Most immediately, the men are no longer at death's door. In quick succession, they leave hunger and poverty and danger behind them. There is a certain right-ness in being saved from starvation by eating the food of those who caused the famine. Another aspect of peace and justice is the fact that the conflict is resolved without any further deaths on either side.
The next movement of justice and peace comes when the men decide that they should share their good fortune with the people of Samaria, even though the people of Samaria have not shared much of their goods with them. The four men make their way back to the city and inform the gatekeepers that the siege is over and there is food to be had. They want everyone to have enough. They want to restore the good fortune of the city. The tide turns when the outcasts show up at the city gates, and there is ironic justice in the outsiders bringing news of salvation to the insiders.
The story is larger than I have presented here. One of the king's officers mocks the idea that God can reverse the situation (as Elisha has prophesied) and things do not end well for him. The king of Israel is hesitant to believe the good news brought by the four men (those on the lowest rungs of society are not reliable witnesses, it seems), but after a scouting party confirms that the attackers have indeed fled, the people rush to claim the food in the enemy camp.
It is hard to separate justice from peace in this story, and so it is in our time. In recent years, the rallying cry of "no justice, no peace" is heard whenever people protest the miscarriage of justice, specifically against those devalued by society. When the jury acquitted the man who murdered Trayvon Martin, Charles Howard wrote, "A lack of justice has resulted in a lack of peace ... Heavy hearts now lack peace because of the lack of justice in our nation." [4] Conversely, when you have justice, peace follows close behind. Where you have peace, you see justice being enacted. Right-ness and peace kiss. Love and truth meet.
What is so interesting (and beautiful) about this story in 2 Kings 7 is that kings and armies and city officials are not the ones instrumental in bringing right-ness and peace. If anything, they have contributed to perpetuating injustice and conflict. The ones with the most power and status and resources are not the ones who make sure that everyone has enough. They are not the ones who restore human dignity, who cultivate and protect the image of God in all humanity. It is the outcasts, the ones considered unclean, the ones whose testimony is doubted, the ones who, it would seem, contribute nothing to society who usher in peace and right-ness.
The people Jesus calls "the least of these" end up being the peacemakers. They are the ones who recognize right-ness. The despised and rejected ones are the salvation of us all.
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1. Lisa Sharon Harper, The Very Good Gospel (New York: Waterbrook, 2016), 14.
2. 2 Kings 7:3-11, Common English Bible.
3. See 2 Kings 6. Robert Alter, The Hebrew Bible: The Prophets (New York: W. W. Norton & Co., 2019), 549.
4. Charles Howard, "No Justice, No Peace: What I've Felt and What is Next in the Wake of the Trayvon Martin Verdict," Huffpost, September 12, 2013. https://www.huffpost.com/entry/no-justice-no-peace-what-_b_3593307
Image: The Rescuer by Michael D. O'Brien
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