The other month I saw a vivid picture of a peacemaker in Brazuto where we buy groceries. It's an open air market, but not like the quaint farmers markets in the U.S. Suburbs. Here we enter the door of the market on a boat through a channel where, because Cartagena is at sea level, all the old buildings dump the sewage into the channel. You can imagine the smell of the black water, yes, the same smell as cleaning our your sewer back home. The market streets are about the same. Lined with feces, rotten foods from vegetables to meat, and garbage from packages. Thousands of people go through this market daily. 50 foot tractor trailer loads of different foods are dropped then distributed to the different vendors there. Vendor storefronts range from concrete bodegas to four sticks with a piece of plastic over it and rickety table underneath. It does have a little police station somewhere in the maze of alleys, it is so hard to find that is must be imaginary. That's why when I heard a bottle break I turned and looked. A small and wiry man broke a whiskey bottle on the edge of the curb, it crumbled so he reached into the trash to grab another. He broke it into something he could use as a knife. In front of me another man with a confident stride and a bit healthier build followed him across the street with a machete. In seconds bystanders started shouting with excitement, a fight with out having to buy tickets! They danced back in forth taking swings at each other, you could feel the tension rise from the crowd and the intensity of the men increased in seconds. There is an instinct in us that we either turn our heads for fear of what happens, or we stop and can't take our eyes of what is happening. At the climax of the face off, a large bus passes in front of me like the channel getting changed in the last seconds of the football game. After it passed the man with the whisky bottle had blood running out his arm, and the man with the machete is now in hot pursuit, when suddenly a man stepped in between them. The man looked ordinary, not particularly big or small, and instantly the fight de-escalated. A few more fake attempts at each other and both men melted away into the crowd. As I walked deeper into the market the only sign left that anything had happened was a bright red blood trail.
Right then I saw a picture of a peacemaker, this other man may have saved the others life. But why did they both stop including the crowd? They all knew this man's character previous to the altercation. He carried with him some authority, not like the state as a police action, this man's authority must have been built up over time. Had I or another unknown stepped in between them perhaps they wouldn't have stopped, and there may have been more victims. The lesson was there is a history of character associated with the ability and right to exercise authority in this situation. Something that cannot be garnered in a day, and something that is known over time after it has been developed. Mature Christians should strive for this character and be ready to be available when the time of service comes. "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called the sons of God." Matthew 5:9
Nate
