Suddenly, I realized how gloomy, melancholic, and sad my friends and I were. Although we had enough food, suitable shelter, and ample healthcare and education, did we live with joy? Why were we still so serious, resolute, and busy with each task, so disillusioned by every minor failure, so worried when we weren't noticed by others, so angry when we were rejected, and so deeply saddened when life didn't unfold as we had planned?
Many peacemakers have lost all joy in the face of the enormous dangers of our time and have become prophets of doom. If someone gloomily announces the end of the world and hopes to compel people to work for peace, they are not a peacemaker. Peace and joy are like brother and sister, inseparably bound together. I do not recall ever experiencing moments of peace that were not simultaneously filled with great joy. The gospel of peace is also the gospel of joy. The pursuit of peace is a joyful endeavor.
The joy of the gospel, however, is a joy that was born on the cross. It is not a sterile happiness of victorious celebrations, but an inner joy hidden in the midst of struggle. It is the joy of knowing that evil and death have no ultimate power over us, a joy anchored in Jesus' words, "In the world you will have tribulation, but take heart; I have overcome the world."
(Henri Nouwen /1932–1996/, Peacework, 1984)
