Planting Peace, Breaking Blades

Focus Statement

True strength isn’t found in the blade we carry,

but in the peace we choose to plant.

Point of Relation

You may not know the name Rev. Dr. Joanne Carlson Brown.

She was born here in Pennsylvania and became one of the first openly queer United Methodist clergy.

Ordained in the 1970s, she came out publicly in the early 1990s—

long before the denomination was ready to receive her fully.

But she didn’t walk away.

She taught at United Theological Seminary of the Twin Cities.

She wrote about suffering, power, and theology.

And she kept pastoring—faithfully, quietly, fiercely—for over 40 years.

There was no viral moment. No dramatic protest.

Just decades of ministry in a denomination that often refused to see her.

And still—she showed up.

She didn’t raise a sword. She picked up the plow.

That’s what strength can look like.

Things to Consider

We’ve been taught that strength means

standing tall,

standing firm,

standing above.

That power means getting the last word.

That peace—if it matters at all—

comes after the fight, not instead of it.

But the vision Micah gives us...and, as we’ll see, the words Paul writes...

they ask us to imagine something else.

A different kind of courage.

A strength that doesn’t sharpen the edge—but softens it.

It makes one wonder:

have we misunderstood what real strength looks like?

What Scripture Says

Micah casts a vision almost too beautiful to believe: nations streaming toward God—

not to fight, but to learn.

Not to sharpen swords, but to melt them down.

And that vision begins with fire.

Friends, metal doesn’t reshape itself.

Someone has to hold the blade in the heat and hammer it into something new.

And not all weapons are steel.

Some are words.

Some are glances.

Some are posts.

Peace means choosing to reforge them all.

Micah says:

“They will beat their swords into plowshares,

and their spears into pruning hooks.”

Instruments of death become tools of growth. That’s what God does.

Paul picks up the same fire in Romans 12.

He doesn’t deny evil—he just refuses to mirror it.

“Do not repay anyone evil for evil,” he says.

Instead, feed your enemy.

Bless those who curse you. Overcome evil with good.

Because peace is strength.

Forgiveness is strength.

Refusing to become the thing that wounded you—

even when the weapon was a word—

that’s Gospel-shaped strength.

What This Means for You

Maybe you’ve been carrying a sword and didn’t even know it.

Maybe sharpness—

sarcasm,

silence—

felt like protection.

But God isn’t calling us to be strong by the world’s standards.

God’s calling us to be transformed.

And that takes practice. Fire. Faith.

So maybe this week, you trade the comeback for compassion.

Maybe you start planting something new.

What This Means for Us

Sisters and brothers, we are not just a church that believes in peace.

We are a church that is learning to plant it.

That means we choose the long way. The quieter way.

The way that breaks the blade, not just hides it.

And yes—it’ll take fire.

It’ll take humility.

Most importantly, it’ll take all of us.

But if we follow Christ into that kind of peace,

then this community—this church—

will continue expanding upon becoming

the garden where something better grows. Amen? Amen.

Written by Rev. Todd R. Lattig with the assistance of ChatGPT (OpenAI). Based on GNJUMC’s Breakthrough Series, “Overcoming Obstacles to Peace”: https://breakthroughseries.org/series/overcoming