The views expressed in these blogs belong to the authors, not necessarily LICC. In this series, we’re hosting a conversation in blog form, bringing diverse perspectives into dialogue.

Editor’s introduction

‘Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. … 
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.’
(Matthew 5:5, 9) 

By God’s grace, this will ultimately be so. But right now, we need courage to hold on to this hope and wisdom to model another way, as the risk of world war seems to grow daily.

Currently, there are over 40 countries locked in conflict that destroys lives and devastates community and creation alike.

As international conflict escalates, how would Jesus have us seek shalom wherever we stand?

That’s the question this five-part blog series explores. Our contributors include military advisors, global relational peacebuilders, educators, humanitarian aid workers, academics, activists, and political aides. Some work overseas, directly engaging on the frontline. Others are serving on UK soil, dealing with the repercussions of unchecked violence come home to roost.

The articles are designed to help you become a ‘wise peacemaker’ where you are. Each author models how to:

• Listen to what’s going on and why as wartime impinges on their context and calling
• Imagine what should be going on, with biblical insight to join God’s peace-full mission
• Create practices and a response of healing action that brings God’s shalom near
• Communicate the gospel that Christ reigns even over dictators, without firing a bullet

The series also accompanies our Wisdom Lab: Peacemaking in Wartime event, at which the authors will engage in honest dialogue that will help us squarely face war’s consequences in a Christlike way.

In this final piece, we bring global conflict back to the granular level. In our interconnected age, wars thousands of miles away feature on our local news and aggravate deeply held divisions between neighbours, colleagues, friends, and even study buddies. For Annabelle Adams, this plays out in her north London secondary school classroom, where she teaches religious education (RE). She regularly navigates the complexities of working with students from war-torn regions, who are wrestling with competing identities and contradictory accounts of what’s gone wrong with the world today – and how to make it right.

As you read Annabelle’s article, reflect on how war impinges on the physical and virtual places you inhabit every day. How might you bridge these divides as a follower of our peacemaking Saviour, who destroyed his enemies by inviting them to become friends?

Dr Dave Benson, Director of Culture & Discipleship, LICC

 

Peacemaking through RE and how to calm the TikTok storm

My frontline story

I’m a teacher – a statement that is usually met with ‘I don’t know how you do it’, ‘That must be hard’, and, ‘I bet those holidays are nice’ (me neither, yes, and no comment). Unlike many other people in the profession, I haven’t always wanted to be a teacher, and before my training I was asking those exact questions, too. Obviously, no one really understands the life and role of a teacher unless you’ve experienced it for yourself. Ruthless, cutthroat, and draining are a few adjectives that come to mind. But so are spontaneous, comedic, and life-giving. One thing teaching isn’t is boring, for better or for worse.

I teach RE and it’s amazing to feel a connection with God in my north London classroom, with a large majority of Islamic students. Amongst Christ’s many roles, that of teacher is often passed over. We may hear it, say it flippantly in a sermon, or discuss it in a small group, but have we ever stopped to think of Jesus as a teacher, a classroom teacher, with a tutor group of eight billion? The same adjectives I use to describe my career could be the exact feelings Jesus had when he was teaching the Twelve. I often have times when teaching makes me think, ‘Wow, is this how God sees us?’ Hopefully with more patience, no doubt – but it does make me wonder what the whole-human-race equivalent of a child swinging on their chair is.

I saw a TikTok that said…

‘Miss, I saw a TikTok that said…’ I’m going to have to stop you right there. Along with some new words I don’t understand, starting your sentence with a TikTok reference is banned in my classroom. It first began when I was simply scared they were going to make me feel old by talking about something I don’t know. But very quickly I discovered that a majority of the knowledge they were sharing was coming from this algorithm-induced short-form content.

We can’t blame the younger generation, though. How many times have you said something along the lines of ‘I read an article’, ‘I saw online’, ‘Someone said’ – and you were just thinking about a TikTok, reel, or YouTube short? With this mindset, we become very used to being fed information to believe. Last year, Ofcom shared that 71% of 16–24-year-olds use social media to access news (and two-thirds of UK adults, so don’t think you’re off the hook).^[1] That means in my average class, 21 students are forming their opinions on global events via… other people’s opinions on global events. It’s a populist echo-chamber, artificially fuelling conflict.

I’d like to say I’m a cool teacher, but no cool teacher would ever say that about themselves, so let’s pretend I didn’t. However, there’s only so much you can keep up with when it comes to the internet. The perfect concoction of style trends, new music, and… oh yes, religious and social politics – that’s exactly what a young person full of confusing hormones needs. The students are not allowed phones at our school, but after school they often come and find me to refer to a TikTok they mentioned in my class.

Most of the time these videos fit the narrative, ‘If you’re part of (X) then you must believe (Y), otherwise you’re a bad (Z)’. So, within three swipes of a finger, a young person can see the news, be told what to think about it, and hear what people in their social circles think about it. So, is it really unreasonable for the students to ask me if WWIII is going to happen, my opinion on who I wanted as the American President, or my view on Israel versus Palestine? These are the exact questions I’m faced with every single day in my class. And I wouldn’t change it for the world.

To reach peace, teach peace

For the sake of this article, I’ll be focusing on the conflict in the Middle East due to my context. My most asked question is, ‘Miss, do you support Israel or Palestine?’^[2] In a school with predominantly Muslim children, located next to Golders Green, which has one of the largest Jewish communities in the UK, this question about world affairs carried serious undertones of how I should treat my neighbour.

There’s not one answer I could give that wouldn’t impact a student emotionally, or be fed into action. So, I was reminded of Pope John Paul II’s words that to reach peace, we must teach peace. RE doesn’t have a national curriculum, so I have a lot of freedom when it comes to creating the syllabus.^[3] This meant that I could weave these global issues throughout my lessons, with the goal of peacemaking.

From Year 7, we spend a whole term looking at the different religions and worldviews within the school and local area. Within this, we unpack terms like ‘tolerance’, ‘prejudice’, and ‘discrimination’, specifically looking at what they mean at their core, how these words are shown in thoughts, words, and actions, and their harmful effects on others. We make the space to look inwards at our own actions and the things we say, think, and feel. This is just the beginning of the critical thinking that I create in my classroom. It’s something that may seem so simple to us, yet if I didn’t teach them that, then I don’t trust social media will.^[4]

Even the wind and waves obey him

Very often in my class, we are talking about the Abrahamic prophets. With our focus being on Islam and Christianity for GCSE, it’s really not unusual to be talking about creation theology, Israel (and its key players), or the nature of God (omnipotence, forgiveness, mercy, and so on). I don’t share my religion with my students, and they haven’t seemed to notice my Trinity tattoo yet, so within these discussions in class I have a real advantage of playing the role of contrarian. When it comes to RE, I find it’s important with my older teen students not to lecture but instead to facilitate critical thinking and discussion. I haven’t done my job if my students can’t disagree well; and that is something we have to teach.

When we look at Jesus Christ, we see a man loyal to peacemaking. We often talk about the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5:9), we discuss the miracle of healing the soldier’s ear (Luke 22:49–51), we compare turning the other cheek (Matthew 5:38–39) with the Old Testament teachings of an eye for an eye (Leviticus 24:17–22). But do we look to Jesus calming the storm (Mark 4:35–41)?

With my students, when we look at miracles we view them through three lenses: casting out forces of evil, overturning the laws of nature, and healing. When we think of peacemaking in wartime, the phrase ‘laws of nature’ doesn’t initially seem like a good fit. However, when I look inwards to become the peacemaker my students need me to be during this fragile time characterised by chaotic geopolitical storms, Jesus’ power over nature is where I see redemption in motion.

We can look at the news and pepper our conversations with ‘blessed are the peacemakers’, but that’s not going to do anything for my students whose grandparents are Palestinian refugees. That doesn’t sit right with the generational anger they carry, nor should it. Peace isn’t just a passive thing; it’s not about pretending suffering doesn’t exist or offering neat little phrases to cover up deep wounds. Peace involves justice, restoration, and the recognition of suffering. My students don’t need a verse to fix their reality; they need to know that their anger, their grief, and their history all sit within something bigger.

If we go into these conversations knowing Jesus can bring peace over the law of nature, it changes our whole posture towards conflict. It brings into focus the underlying goodness of creation, bruised by human fault but still answerable to the omnipotent Lord who created it. Jesus’ miracles of nature directly show us that peace isn’t passive. Instead, it is an active force, woven into the fabric of creation itself – something that cannot be undone by human cruelty. When Jesus calms the storm, he’s not ignoring the chaos, he’s commanding it. That’s the kind of peace I want my students to see. Not one that erases struggle, but one that holds it, answers it, and shows that even in the most broken moments, God is still present, still powerful, still working.

It gives hope.

Using this narrative, we can look at the prophets and see how God uses nature as a protector and peacemaker. Moses parting the Red Sea (Exodus 14:1–31) is not only a phenomenal miracle, but one that aids peacemaking, offering a lifeline to an embattled people drowning in injustice; Noah’s Ark (Genesis 6:9–22) rides atop the flood that precedes God’s promise of peace in the rainbow; the sun standing still in Joshua’s battle (Joshua 10:12–14) secures victory and ushers in peace. Within all of God’s works overturning the laws of nature, I see a beautiful creation, tainted by humanity, employed as a conduit for redemption that serves the restoration of peace.

For my students, many of whom carry the weight of inherited pain and injustice, these stories offer a framework for resilience. If God has continually used creation to restore peace, then what role do we have in that process? The storm Jesus calmed didn’t just disappear; it obeyed a greater authority. Likewise, the conflicts we witness today, whether personal, political, or generational, are not beyond God’s reach. As we wrestle with questions of justice and suffering, perhaps our role is not to force quick resolutions, but to be instruments of peace in the ways we can: through listening, learning, and refusing to let anger be the only legacy we inherit.

Being a peacemaker during wartime in my classroom isn’t about teaching my students the facts. It is about bringing the hope I share that the Lord will reestablish the peaceful state the world yearns to adopt once again. ‘Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him!’ (Mark 4:41).

Be who you are and be that well

The quote written at the front of my Bible is, ‘Be who you are and be that well,’ famously spoken by St. Francis de Sales. As a fairly new Catholic, I have found such faith in the lives of the saints, and I’ve been particularly inspired when it comes to spiritual practices and listening to God. Aside from the holy water I spray on my students’ desks and in the corners of the room (and the Hail Mary I throw up every now and again, most likely in frustration!), peace can feel like a rare commodity in a bustling classroom.

If you find a newbie and a veteran teacher together, their conversation is often about how teaching isn’t what is used to be. I can only give my experience, but it’s true that I don’t think there are enough hats or labels in the world for every role a teacher is now expected to fulfil. It becomes very easy to slip into overtime, and I have even found myself doing 12-hour days. And this is where my friends the saints help me be disciplined; I need to look after myself so I can look after others better. If I better my personal relationship with God, the more I invite him into the classroom, and he opens my eyes to the individual turmoil each student is going through.

When putting on my peacemaker hat, I thought I had to keep up with every video my students would come across; every next big thing on the internet that was going to be forced into my lessons the following day. During this process, I was unaware how much war, crisis, and political suffering I was consuming which eventually made conversations in the classroom bitter, sharp, and quick. I was so fed up with seeing everything so broken that I became overwhelmed when I was asked the same questions about it over and over each day. Through prayer, God led me to a ‘dry January’ of social media and I’m still keeping it up to this day to better my practice of bringing peace into my classroom.

As a teacher, I’m the first to admit that perhaps I don’t need to know every detail about everything; and yes, that realisation is a stab to the ego. But there’s so much grace in stopping, listening, and even changing opinions at times. When I look at Christ, I don’t see a man who’s out to prove himself right; I see someone who listens first. This is the attitude I want to cultivate with my students. By leading with listening, we nurture the compassion Christ taught us.

During my daily reflections taken from the Celtic Book of Daily Prayer, there is a note written by Pat Lynch that struck me.^[5] He observes, ‘Notice that not once did Jesus make his disciples pray. He just kept praying until at last they could contain their hunger no longer and asked him to teach them how to pray.’ This is how I can become a peacemaker in my classroom. My students have so many questions and I can’t fight the beast of social media; however, I can be calm, I can listen, and I can act with tolerance and grace until it becomes infectious.

Going back to what St. Frances de Sales taught us, all we can do to be peacemakers on our frontlines is be who we are and be that well, so that we may bring honour to the Master Craftsman whose handiwork we are. When we’re at our jobs, working from home, or teaching a class, we’re not expected to solve the world’s problems. All God expects of us is to be who he created us to be, and through that will those little seeds of peace be planted throughout our daily lives.

Annabelle Adams
Annabelle is an RE teacher at a secondary school in London, with a theology degree from the London School of Theology. She is currently studying for an MA in Catholic Theology from Durham University.

Discussion questions

1. As Jesus turned to his disciples in Mark 4:40 when calming the storm, let him turn to you and ask, ‘Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?’ Where do you think you could trust God more in your life?
2. If you find yourself absorbing too much social media content, how could you cut back on your screen time?
3. Which one of Jesus’ miracles do you think brings the most peace into your life? How could you share this story at your workplace?
4. In times of war and division, how can Jesus’ teachings on peace, forgiveness, and love for our neighbour guide our response to those with whom we deeply disagree?

Endnotes

[1] ‘Influence of Social Media Gateways to News,’ Ofcom, 25 March 2024.

[2] Jasmine Wynn, ‘#CeasefireNow: Examining the 2020s’ Evolution of Social Media, Advocacy and Youth Participation,’Harvard Political Review, 11 March 2025.

[3] UK Department for Children, Schools and Families, Religious Education in English Schools: Non-Statutory Guidance (DCSF Publications, 2010).

[4] Ben Herd, ‘“I’m Not Sure What to Trust”: A Student Navigates the News in the Age of Social Media,” The Guardian, 14 September 2024. To help navigate the maze that is conspiracy theories peddled through social media, see Bonnie Kristian, Untrustworthy: The Knowledge Crisis Breaking Our Brains, Polluting Our Politics, and Corrupting Christian Community (Brazos Press, 2022).

[5] Northumbria Community, Celtic Daily Prayer: Book 1 – The Journey Begins (HarperCollins, 2015).

Helpful resources

Books:

• Mark-Mary Burns,Habits for Holiness: Small Steps for Big Transformation (Ascension Press, 2021)
• Bob Goff, Everybody, Always: Becoming Love in a World Full of Setbacks and Difficult People (Thomas Nelson, 2018)
• Gordon MacDonald, Ordering Your Private World (Thomas Nelson, 1984)

Video:

• ‘Swiped: The School that Banned Smartphones,’Channel 4, 2×47-min. episodes, 2024.