No Peace We Find

Dear Eugene,

Years ago in a residential basement where a fledgling young church was praying together for her highly anticipated take-off, an earnest young man basking in the collective enthusiasm nevertheless allowed an instance of uncynical clear-headedness to break open a little crack of imagination, seeing well into a future that sadly did eventually come to pass, a vision articulated then in these simple words: "I wonder how long this is going to last..."

By this he meant peace and harmony among people, a like-mindedness all too rare even in church, not unheard of, not unexperienced either, only that the prophesy of its eventual demise always self-fulfilling, often with great efficiency and grand efficacy.  His words of simple lamentation shook me and since then in my recollection never ceased to.

"Good things never last, Mr. Denham."

Ann Darrow said that.  Ann is the scream-queen in the "King Kong" movie.  It doesn't take the father of English literature Geoffrey Chaucer to realize "All good things must come to an end."

What does peace look like, feel like, smell like--live like?  We have no imagination for it.  If we are given a box of Lego of peace, we wouldn't know what to make of it.  We are too ham-fisted to handle the little bricks, too small-minded to visualize the final big picture.

If Hollywood the "dream factory" is our surrogate vision projector, all our imagination can see is mayhem, conflict, destruction, make-believe happy endings, napalm that smells of buttery popcorn.  I like my movies thirsty for blood, unapologetic about their Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, as Pauline Kael puts it.  When Hollywood starts to preach the possibility of peace I go right to the toilet and stick a finger down my throat.  Cheap grace is worse than no grace at all.

Some claims religion is the cancer of humanity.  Some says it's capitalism, technology, greed, social media.  Trump.  Bad drivers.  I shall let the doctors fight this one out.

I only know whatever it is, our symptom is clear: We are suffering from a lack of  imagination and thus passion for peace.

Yours, Alex

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