Peace

Peace. 

We pass the peace, we cry out for peace, we pursue peace. 

But there is no peace. 

There is conflict, there is pain, there is division, there is war. 

We are weary. We are bruised. We are divided. We look for the answer. 

Let me hear what God the Lord will speak, for he will speak peace to his people, to his faithful, to those who turn to him in their hearts. Surely his salvation is at hand for those who fear him, that his glory may dwell in our land. Steadfast love and faithfulness will meet; righteousness and peace will kiss each other. Faithfulness will spring up from the ground, and righteousness will look down from the sky. The Lord will give what is good, and our land will yield its increase. Righteousness will go before him and will make a path for his steps. (Psalm 85:8-13, NRSV) 

We seek peace but forget to seek God. And God goes silent. His people hear nothing. They thrash and flail but don’t get his attention. And time goes by. And violence and hatred increase. And we bear the mark of Cain…we harm, we maim, we kill, we curse. And God stays silent. Our torment becomes unbearable but “normal.” We medicate and placate and vacate. And God stays silent. 

But then 

Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her that she has served her term, that her penalty is paid, that she has received from the Lord’s hand double for all her sins. A voice cries out: “In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain. Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together, for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.” 

A voice says, “Cry out!” And I said, “What shall I cry?” 

All flesh is grass; their constancy is like the flower of the field. The grass withers, the flower fades, but the Word of our God will stand forever. Get you up to a high mountain, O Zion, herald of good news; lift up your voice with strength, O Jerusalem, herald of good news; lift it up, do not fear; say to the cities of Judah, “Here is your God!” See the Lord God comes with might, and his arm rules for him; his reward is with him and his recompense before him. 

He will feed his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms and carry them in his bosom and gently lead the mother sheep. (Isaiah 40:1-11, NRSV) 

And for a time, all is well. There is a moment of peace. Faith is restored and all is right in the world. We share fellowship with our brother, with our neighbor, with those from the lands far away. We prosper and multiply. We build bigger barns, buy bigger cars, enjoy greater privilege. We conquer the world and have everything under control. And eventually… 

We forget. We forget God. We forget righteousness. We forget love. We forget our own humanity. We…forget. And God goes silent. Until… 

The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ. As it is written in the prophet Isaiah, “See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way, the voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord; make his paths straight,’” so John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism for the forgiveness of sins. And the whole Judean region and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him and were baptized by him in the River Jordan, confessing their sins. Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. He proclaimed, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the strap of his sandals. I have baptized you with water, but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.” (Mark 1:1-8, NRSV) 

So Christ comes. And we flock to him. And we’re intrigued by him. And we choose him. And we pursue him. And we tell others about him. And we experience his grace and his power. And we get used to him. And we fudge his teachings. We slip up here and there. We look out for number one. And we attempt to fit him into what we believe and how we behave. And we pursue power and affluence and drag his name into it. And we begin to look just like the rest. And we forget him. And God goes silent. Again. 

On the domed ceiling, God is thinking: 

I made them my joy, and everything else I created 

I made to bless THEM. 

But see what they do! 

I know their hearts and arguments: 

“We’re descended from Cain. 

Evil is nothing new so what does it matter now 

If we shell the infirmary, and the well 

Where the fearful and the rash alike must 

Come for water?” 

God thinks Mary into being. 

Suspended at the apogee of the golden dome, 

She curls in a brown pod 

And inside her the mind of Christ, 

Cloaked in blood 

Lodges and begins to grow. (Jane Kenyon, Mosaic of the Nativity, Serbia, Winter 1993) 

The coming of Christ is once for all and ever recurring. We forget. We suffer silence. We nearly abandon hope. And then, he speaks into our lives again and we are restored. Advent is a time to hear his voice, to seek his peace, to reconcile and release ourselves into his grace. May this be the day. Amen.