One thing is plain – that we must love the strife-maker. Another is nearly as plain – that, if we do not love him, we must leave him alone. For without love there can be no peacemaking, and words will but occasion more strife. Until we genuinely love, we must say nothing, for fear our words may be somehow an attempt to elevate our own self. And while awaiting words – though the time for them may never come – we can always, indeed, we must always be kind. To be kind neither hurts nor compromises. Kindness has many phases, and the fitting form of it may avoid offense and must avoid untruth.

We must not fear what man can do to us, but commit our way to the Father of the family. We must in no way be anxious to defend ourselves. And if God is our defense, is he not our friend’s as much as ours? Therefore, commit your friend’s cause also to him who judges righteously. Be ready to bear testimony for your friend, as you would to receive a blow aimed at him. But do not plunge into a nest of scorpions to rescue his handkerchief. Be true to him yourself, and do not spare any opportunity to show that you love and honor him. But defense may dishonor: men may say, “What! is your friend’s esteem then so small?” He is unwise who drags a rich veil from a cactus bush.

Whatever our relation, then, with any peace – breaker, our mercy must ever be within call. And it may help us against an indignation too strong to be pure to remember that when any man is reviled for righteousness’ sake, then is he blessed.



MacDonald, G. (1824-1905), ‘A family of peacemakers’, in Knowing the Heart of God (ed) by Phillips, M. 1990, Bethany House Publishers Minneapolis, Minnesota 55438