Suddenly I realized how melancholic, melancholic, and sad my friends and I were. Although we had enough food, suitable shelter, and plenty of healthcare and education, did we live with joy? Why were we always so serious, resolute, and busy with each task, so disillusioned by every little failure, so troubled when we were ignored by those around us, so angry when we were rejected, and so deeply saddened when life didn’t go as we had planned?
Many peacemakers have lost all joy under the onslaught of the great dangers of our time and have become prophets of doom. If someone gloomily announces the end of the world and hopes to push people toward peace work, they are not a peacemaker. Peace and joy are like brother and sister, inseparably linked. I do not recall ever experiencing moments of peace that were not also filled with great joy. The gospel of peace is also the gospel of joy. The effort for peace is a joyful work.
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 that hides in the midst of struggle. It is the joy of knowing that evil and death do not have the final power over us, a joy anchored in Jesus' words, "In this world, you will have trouble, but take heart! I have overcome the world."
(Henri Nouwen /1932–1996/, Peacework, 1984)
