In seeking peace, you may have to cause a commotion.

I might even call them a congregation. It's a fabulous group, opening to accept and love anyone who joins them to learn and celebrate.

The greatest strength of this group is their love for one another, their creation of family from friends, and their ability to bring people close.

Two of the most important things they do together are learn and celebrate -- the latter often through music.

They've chosen leaders for these two vital activities, and those leaders have been dedicated over the years.

Dedication, though, has moved to turf warfare, to leading with ego, to reacting with anger at the suggestion of change. Underneath the anger, the congregation of friends knows, is fear.

Valuable people in this community have left, seeking a place where they can belong. The community's heart hurts with the loss.

Those who don't find sustenance on one side of Grand Avenue may flee for the other.

They are frozen. They are chosen. They don't like to talk about these issues that come between them: soulless songs and joyless learning; egos quashing innovation and battles of precious turf; a lapse of memory where they forget none of it belongs to them.

But peace will never last if we gloss over the sources of deeply entrenched anger: songs that don't sing to hearts, that don't make souls dance and, dare we say it -- lift hands to heaven -- yes -- right there in our shared home -- have made the family smaller, more vulnerable, divided, sad and joyless.

Joylessness leads to insecurity, fear, despondency and hopelessness.

We cannot express joy in a dirge and leave instruments untouched, voices unraised, hands sat upon and hearts frozen, without consequence.

There is anger in this community -- trickling down from some of its leaders, and washing up from those who've striven and pushed just to be pushed away by the ego, anger and fear.

They say "We invite...to transform," then leave their guests frowning and bewildered to a dreary soundtrack -- too many guests who never return, or who leave when it's all too much.

What rejoicing we might have in taking a risk? Stepping out could result in victory. Taking that impossible step, seeing that unflattering reflection in ourselves, and stepping up to the unknown is the only possible path to the messy miracle at the other end.

What if we open up communication, understanding, and new vistas of possibility where it seems the status quo has permanent residence?

We have to test who has the stronger voice -- fear or courage, ego or the common good.

This isn't about good or evil, it's about same or different.

Our family is abandoning same, and the only other option is different -- the different that some have been trying to launch for decades.

Seeking joy is the thing we need to do that's more powerful than the bombing and the battles.

Will we have the courage to change the dirge into dancing, the contemplation into celebration, the droning into a song for our heart's quarters?

God only knows.