Seek Shalomনমুনা

SEEK SHALOM

Imagine spending fourteen months putting together a 6000-piece jigsaw puzzle only to discover there is still one missing piece.

That’s what happened to Robert Miles. Despite searching for it everywhere – the floor, the lid, under the puzzle itself – the missing piece was nowhere to be found. A 6000-piece-puzzle that only has 5999 pieces. How frustrating!

I know how my fellow puzzle completer must have felt. There are no more pieces, but it’s not done. It’s incomplete. It’s unfinished. There’s a hole right in the middle of the whole darn thing!

We’re empathetic to this story of the man and his missing puzzle piece because deep inside each of us is a shared desire for things to be complete. To be whole. We can’t stand the idea that the puzzle doesn’t have its last piece. There’s a satisfaction, a feeling that all is right, when we place the last piece to complete the puzzle. But until then, the puzzle gnaws at us in all its unfinishedness. It’s not right until it’s whole.

The Bible has a word that describes this same desire for our humanity. It’s the Hebrew word shalom. We typically translate this word as peace. But theologian Nicholas Wolterstorff argues that translating shalom as “peace” has too many limitations. Based on the historical and theological context, Wolterstorff believes that a better definition of shalom would be the word flourishing.

In his book, Engaging God’s World, Neal Plantinga defines shalom as “the webbing together of God, humans, and all creation, in justice, fulfillment, and delight.”

A simple definition may be that shalom is being rightly related to God, creation, others, and self - and finding joy in it.

Shalom, therefore, is a four-piece puzzle.

When our lives are rightly related to God, creation, others, and self, we find the wholeness we desire.

To find peace with God, creation, others, and self is to find shalom.

Shalom, we could say, is a four-peace puzzle.

The nation of Israel was taken captive by the Babylonians in 587 B.C. They were uprooted from their homeland and forced to travel 700 miles to a foreign land. The people complained about their new circumstances and wallowed in self-pity. The prophets Ahab, Zedekiah, and Shemiah stoked their discontent and promised that God would soon deliver them from exile. The message was simple: “Just hang in there a little longer; it will be over soon.”

But then, two messengers arrive in Babylon from Jerusalem, bearing a letter from the prophet Jeremiah. It was a word to the exiles. Jeremiah instructs the exiles to stop sitting idly by and waiting for rescue. The prophets are wrong; God’s deliverance will not come soon. He challenges the Israelites to engage with the culture in which they now reside, to build homes and plant gardens. To carry on with life, to marry and procreate.

And then the Lord says for them to “work for the peace and prosperity of the city… for its welfare will determine your welfare.” The Hebrew word translated as welfare here is shalom. Thus, Jeremiah’s letter encourages the exiled peoples to seek the flourishing of their city of exile because when the city flourishes, they will flourish too.

Jeremiah 29:11 is not a guarantee of some bright and prosperous feel-good future for Christians, but rather a promise that God has not forgotten us in our exile and is working things out for our good as we seek the shalom of our neighbors and neighborhoods.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.”

What Is Your Shalom?

When I run into someone I know in public, I usually start a conversation with a simple inquiry, “Hey, how’s it going?” Other variations of this are typical, too - “How are you?” “How are you doing?” or even the more simplistic, “What’s up?”

In the Jewish tradition, they would ask one another, “What is your shalom?” This question was to inquire about the person’s well-being by asking if they were flourishing – if they were feeling a sense of wholeness in their relationship with God, creation, others, and self.

Perhaps we could learn something from this ancient tradition by asking this question of ourselves and our family and friends. What is your shalom?

Because when we seek shalom, we find shalom.

When we create peace, we find peace.

When we put the pieces together, we discover the whole.

When we put the peaces together, we find our shalom.

REFLECTION

Take a self-inventory. What is your shalom? How would you assess your current relationship with God, creation, others, and self?