As of this writing, unconfirmed rumors continue to swirl in Vatican circles that Pope Francis will accept an invitation to speak in New York at the United Nations’ “Summit of the Future” in September. This would be his second trip to address the UN General Assembly, and the sixth papal visit in history. The first of these is undoubtedly the most well-known and widely cited.
On Oct. 4, 1965 – on the feast of Saint Francis of Assisi, one of the most famous apostles of peace in Christian history – Pope Paul VI gave an impassioned and groundbreaking speech to the United Nations. The most famous line still rings emphatically in our ears today: “No more war; war never again!” In describing the “holy cause” of peace, the pope called the transnational body “the great school,” where each member becomes both “a pupil and a teacher in the art of building” peacemaking capabilities. Despite all of this instruction and learning, we still continue to ask ourselves along with him, “Will the world ever come to change the selfish and bellicose outlook that has spun out such a great part of its history up to now?”
We live in paradoxical times in all sorts of ways. When it comes to war and peace, humanity has imminent threats to its very existence, from nuclear weapons and proliferation of high-powered artilleries to climate change and burgeoning technological developments. Yet, some research shows that in the last 10,000 years, humanity has been steadily and inexorably becoming a less violent and more nonbelligerent race, with longer life spans and decreases in tribal warfare, international conflict and civil wars. We are possibly then living in the most peaceful stage of our species’ existence, even if the news media paints a different picture. That is not to say that our human interactions are overwhelmingly healthy or holy by any stretch of the imagination. We know well how out of control the world can still feel at times.
Isaiah’s famous prophecy about the coming Messiah claims: “For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be on his shoulder. And his name shall be called Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace.” (9:6) We are back to paradoxes here, because the same Lord whose Birth we claim is foreshadowed in this prediction says to us, “Do not think I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have come not to bring peace, but a sword.” (Mt 10:34) Jesus himself brought not compliant respect for the status quo, but revolution.
As Salvadoran martyr Father Rutilio Grande put it: “If Jesus of Nazareth came back, coming down from Galilee to Judea, that is from Chalatenango to San Salvador, I daresay he would not get as far as Apopa with his preaching and actions. They would stop him in Guazapa and jail him there. … They would accuse him of being a rabble-rouser, a foreign Jew, one confusing people with strange and exotic ideas, anti-democratic ideas … ideas against God … and they would undoubtedly crucify him again.” Grande was ambushed and shot 12 times by a paramilitary security force not long after preaching these words. His death presaged the more famous execution of his good friend Saint Oscar Romero.
Much to the chagrin of Christian nationalists, Jesus’ “sword” is not the sabre rattled to intimidate people into line through ostentatious military power or fear-mongering. It is rather a reference to, as the poet Gerard Manley Hopkins puts it, “the war within, the brand we wield/Unseen, the heroic breast not outward-steeled.” The “brand,” or blade, we wield here is turned not on unbelievers or recalcitrant others, but rather inward to cleave us from sin and to follow Deuteronomy’s counsel to circumcise our hearts, and be no longer stubborn. “For the Lord our God is God of gods and Lord of lords, a great God both awesome and terrible, who is not partial and takes no bribes.” (Dt 10:17)
Jesus says elsewhere that those who live by the sword will die by it. (Mt 26:52) If the pope does in fact come to our nation in the fall to seek justice and the sheathing of our world’s weapons for those crying out to God day and night, will he find both faith and willing ears on the earth? (Lk 18:7-8)
An alumnus of Camden Catholic High School, Cherry Hill, Michael M. Canaris, Ph.D., teaches at Loyola University, Chicago.













