We may be looking to the wrong winged creature to symbolize God’s peace
What images come to mind when you think of God?
The dove is one of the most common symbols in nature that points to the nature of God. It stands for the Holy Spirit in much Christian iconography.
After the cataclysmic flood that destroyed the known world, Noah released a dove from the ark that finally came back with an olive leaf indicating that the waters were receding and the earth was being renewed. The dove and the olive branch have become perpetual symbols of peace. A dove descended from the heavens and lighted upon Jesus at his baptism, picturing the peace of God resting upon him.
It’s a lovely image — the gentle dove. Doves never hurt anyone. Doves coo. What’s threatening about that?
But the Holy Spirit is hardly benign. The peace of God that the dove image conveys is only part of the story. Like a mother who can comfort and nurture but also defend her offspring with terrifying fury, God never rests in working to bring rest to all creation.
The promised peace of God is a deep rest, however. The Hebrew word shalom and the Arabic salaam capture the nature of this peace. They indicate an environment of comprehensive justice, not just a lack of conflict.
“No justice, no peace” is the slogan of all revolutionaries as they storm palaces that house oppressive regimes. Whether King George III of Britain, or Muammar Gaddafi of Libya, or Bashar al-Assad of Syria — to name just a few — dictators love to play the peace card when people rise up and demand freedom and justice. They cry “law and order” and condemn protestors as rabble-rousers and troublemakers. But their brand of peace falls short of God’s design for a world in which right relationships of every kind rule the day.
Jewish and Christian holy days, during the month of April this year, point to God’s being a peacemaker more than a peacekeeper. Passover recalls God’s untiring commitment to liberation from all kinds of slavery. The exodus of the children of Israel from their forced labor under the harsh hand of the pharaoh in Egypt tells us that God is never content just to bless regimes that keep the peace by keeping the just aspirations of their people repressed. Easter proves that God will not tolerate forever the final oppressive repressor — Death. Even the grave can’t keep down the hopes of people for life and freedom. God’s raising of Jesus tells us that no power can match God’s power to give life. No cemetery can grant perpetual peace.
Celtic Christians have long looked to the wild goose as a more fitting symbol of the Holy Spirit. The goose suggests a spirit of dangerous adventure more than boring serenity.
Mark Batterson, the author of “Wild Goose Chase,” puts it this way: “Wild geese are regarded as disturbing nuisances by some, creating noise at moments that are often inconvenient, even pests to be shot. And at another level they convey a sense of foolishness, which is how God’s upside-down kingdom values appear to the world. While their gait is awkward, in flight the wild goose displays grace and beauty. He exemplifies an outrageous wildness as his great wings beat with exceptional power implying the capacity to achieve the apparently impossible. Put all this together and the wild goose image resonates deeply within us. … The God of the Bible is wild and free, safe but not tame, unfathomable, uncontainable, unpredictable, and yet able to be known intimately.”
That’s the kind of God that can bring real and lasting peace to creation, a peace that surpasses human understanding.