But let me confess before we go any further – of these four candles, this one is for me the most difficult to preach on. I can speak from experience about hope, and joy, and love – even if I also have days when those seem in short supply. But peace? I don’t mean just a ceasefire, or the absence of war. The peace that passes all understanding? The shalom that the Bible speaks of to mean completeness and well-being and right relationships: this seems more elusive to me in a nation that feels so bitterly divided. There is no shalom without justice. And so we pray here for the shalom/salaam of Jerusalem, and for peace in Ukraine, and for peace around our tables – at home and in this congregation.
Peace speaks to our deepest yearnings, I think. Yet it seems to be in short supply. Even so, this month we are preparing our hearts and minds and souls for the coming of the Prince of Peace, the one who comes to bring peace on earth and goodwill to all people.
The Biblical prophets dare to speak of a time when swords will be beaten into plowshares and spears into pruning hooks. In his farewell address to this nation in 1961, President Eisenhower sounded like the Biblical prophets when he warned of the dangers of the military industrial complex and the opportunity for a lasting peace dividend. That promise is our hope for the world and yet we live in the meantime – in the meantime of unsettledness and dis-ease, of wars and rumors of wars. I wonder if the four weeks of Advent are a kind of glimpse into what the journey of faith is all about. Hopeful expectation. Active waiting. Participation in God’s dream for this world. There is nothing passive about Advent or about the Christian journey: it’s always an invitation to participate, to become followers of Jesus, to do the work God has given us to do. It’s impossible for you or I or even a president or a secretary of state to make peace. But all of us can choose, daily, to embrace the ways that lead to peace rather than pouring gasoline on the fire. In my experience this requires and enormous amount of energy and commitment – which is why I find hope and joy and love easier to preach on than peace. We are so used to might being used for wrong but let’s be clear, even might used for right isn’t the path to peace. Jesus models another way to understand power as the one who falls on his knees with a towel and basin and washes feet. Servanthood ministry – non-violent action, turning the other cheek are all practices Jesus teaches us to work for peace. Shalom. We light this candle today as an act of resistance.
God’s shalom is about way more than a “cease-fire.” It’s about healing and gratitude and hospitality; about a willingness to share and a table set with fine wines and a feast for everyone. It’s about a community where trust is a given, and where walls that once divided are broken down.
Sometimes people say to me that the Old Testament is hard to read because it is so violent. There is a great deal of truth in that statement and there is violence there because that’s part of the struggle in the middle east and around the world. But there’s another way to look at it–a way that makes it so near and dear to me in fact. The Old Testament (and I believe the New Testament as well!) refuse to be “pie-in-the-sky.” They refuse to live in a dream world. They dare to look squarely at what really is. The Old Testament especially does not avoid geo-political realities, but although more subtle in the New Testament it’s there too: the challenge of living under Roman imperial power whose violence degrades and hurts God’s people. (And we are all God’s people!) We heard hints of it today:
In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when
Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, and his
brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias
ruler of Abilene, during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of
God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness.
And we’ll hear it again on Christmas Eve: in those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus…
We have always lived in a world with leaders we sometimes respect and sometimes fear. The prophets are honest about what is. But they also refuse to settle for the status quo of thinking that is what will always be. They dare to dream of the dawn of a new day, of a time when God really is the ruler of heaven and earth, a time when justice and peace go hand in hand.
And so Malachi, a near-contemporary of Ezra and Nehemiah, can speak in his context (sometime after the people have come home from Babylon after the Exile) of a day when the people really will be made holy and righteous. He can look beyond the struggles of daily life to a time when the Covenant will be fulfilled. It is difficult for us to hear his words without hearing the music of George Frederick Handel in our heads. For he is like a refiner’s fire…
I’ve always appreciated the song, “Let there be peace on earth...” not just for the memories it evokes from my childhood, and not just because it’s an easily singable tune, but because of the next clause: “and let it begin with me.”
I think that is a very Biblical prayer. We ask God for peace on earth. But in the very next breath we need to listen long enough to hear God’s consistent call for a response from us. In the end it is not the politicians and the generals who will bring about peace on earth. It’s people like Mary and Joseph and the shepherds and fishermen, and tax-collectors, and teachers and people like you and me who are meant to pray not only “let there be peace on earth,” but also “let it begin with me.”
Each and every one of us are called to be “preparers of the way” this Advent season. Each of us are called to be instruments of peace. “Let there be peace on earth.” And let it begin here, and now on this Second Sunday of Advent. To find our way into that peace that passes all understanding, we need to be able to be still, and quiet. Which is no easy task in December, in a consumer society. But with God, all things are possible! What might we need to let go of in order to find a sense of that peace that Christ offers us in this season of Advent?
I don’t know how we can ever be instruments of God’s peace if we are out of tune and conflicted in our own hearts. It has to begin with us. Advent is so counter-cultural – the month when we are feeling pulled toward freneticism is the very time when we insist, “slow down, you move too fast…” We are invited to take time to reflect this month and to see that as a part of our preparations. We are invited to keep first things first.
As we continue to find our way through this season of transition at St. Michael’s I hope you all took time to read the vestry covenant of behavior. I think that is a very important call to each of us, not just those currently serving on vestry. People feel drawn to a community where there is hope and peace and joy and love. Wherever there are two or three gathered together, there will always be differences and disagreements, sometimes even passionate conflict. But that represents an opportunity, actually. It offers us an invitation to do the work of healing and reconciliation we are called to. It asks us to create a community where the Church is a laboratory that is helping us to learn how to ask for forgiveness when we wrong someone and to offer forgiveness when it will open the door to a new possibility. This is a place where we are, with God's help. learning to grow into the full stature of Christ, Jesus is the light of the world, who shines in the darkness. But we, as the Church, as His followers, are called to do the same: to be the Light of the world. ,
I’m absolutely convinced that most disagreements are not zero-sum games, and that many of our worst disagreements get to that point because of bad communication or mis-communication or no communication. And that this is true in intimate relationships as it is in global politics. So what might it look like for peace on earth to truly begin with us, and then begin to ripple across generational lines and gender lines and different political views, as we come together to learn how to be one in Christ?
What happens when we take seriously our calling to be “preparers of the way” and therefore allow the peace that Christ pours into our hearts to extend to one another, to soften our hard edges, to make us better communicators and more open to healing, and to forgiveness, and grace?
I think what happens is that peace starts to become palpable. People feel drawn into the love of God even more deeply and ministries are energized. We become, through the gift of community, ever more “the Body of Christ.” And as that happens, we learn what it means to be salt, and light, and yeast for the sake of this broken world. When we leave this place to take our place in this community as citizens we don’t leave our core values behind. We take them with us to be little lights shining in the dark.
This may all sound a little naïve and I get that but as we continue to get to know each other, I hope you will realize that I’m not naïve about very much. It’s hard work to be followers of Jesus and as I said when I began, I am fully aware that peace is a challenge. We won’t always get it right. But we try, one day at a time. And when we do fail we ask for forgiveness from God and one another and we begin again. And again. And again.
Keep praying for one another, and especially pray for those who get under your skin and who may even be taking up residence in your head rent free. Let there be peace on earth indeed! But let it begin with us, with each and every one of us. And let it extend to our families–so that between now and Christmas we find ways to reconcile and to be reconciled if there is strife in our extended families. And as we practice forgiveness and love at home, let it extend beyond those walls. If we can do just that much we will make this a holy Advent and the adventure of faith will continue to unfold in God’s own time.
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