Second Week of Advent: Peace

     The theme of this second week of Advent is peace. At first I thought I had very little to say on this subject. Some churches use the theme of faith instead of peace during the Advent season and I was tempted to go that route, or to put it off for another two weeks and talk about love this week like some other churches do. The more I thought about it though, the more I realized just how multifaceted the theme of peace is. Sure, initially my first association with peace was silence and stillness, which is why I started adding versions of "Silent Night" to this week's playlist. Then I was reminded that peace is not simply the absence of noise, or even the absence of conflict. The Hebrew word "shalom" (שלום) is most commonly translated merely as "peace," but included in this one tiny word are also the ideas of rest, wholeness, harmony, prosperity, etc. There's a reason why this word is such a large part of Jewish, and subsequently Christian, tradition. This one word could function as a summary of what we lost in the Fall. There was peace, not simply between God and mankind, but between person and person, between mankind and animals, and between mankind and the earth. We lost all of that, and the consequences touch every aspects of our lives. We are not complete or whole. There is discord and conflict rather than harmony and peace. Injustice is found everywhere. The world is broken. 
     I could end the post right here and it would be awful and depressing. The good news is that I don't have to. Like the psalms of David, I can cry out in anger or frustration or despair at the condition of the world, and yet ultimately end my prayer with joy and hope because I know the darkness is not the end. At Christmas we celebrate the light entering the world when Christ came as an infant. This act of supreme humility was the first step on the journey to the cross, which ultimately brought the hope of reconciliation. Peace can be restored. The poem, "The Work of Christmas," by Civil Rights leader and theologian Dr. Howard Thurman, summarizes just some of the results of the incarnation this way: 

"The work of Christmas begins: 

To find the lost,

To heal the broken,

To feed the hungry,

To release the prisoner,

To rebuild the nations,

To bring peace among brother,

To make music from the heart."

Dan Forrest put this poem to music, and I had the pleasure of listening to a performance of it last night at a Christmas Gala. Another Christmas carol that captures the promise of peace, as well as the frustration that the promise has not yet been completely fulfilled, is "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day." It's not a carol that I sing often, but the more I read its lyrics, the more fitting it seemed for this post.      

I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I heard the bells on Christmas Day

Their old familiar carols play,

And wild and sweet the words repeat

Of peace on earth, good will to men.

I thought how, as the day had come,

The belfries of all Christendom

Had rolled along the unbroken song

Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And in despair I bowed my head:

"There is no peace on earth," I said,

"For hate is strong and mocks the song

Of peace on earth, good will to men."

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:

"God is not dead, nor doth he sleep;

The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,

With peace on earth, good will to men."

Till, ringing singing, on its way,

The world revolved from night to day,

A voice, a chime, a chant sublime, 
Of peace on earth, good will to men!

     Longfellow wrote "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day" just two years after the end of the American Civil War, so he knew the horrors of war and the terrible consequences of a nation torn apart. He freely expresses his despair that lasting peace will ever come. Yet, like the psalms I mentioned earlier, it is by dwelling on the character of God that Longfellow finds hope and can actually agree with his refrain. For many Americans right now though, I think it might feel easier to agree with his statement that "hate is strong and mocks the song of peace on earth, good will to men." The deaths of Michael Brown and Eric Garner in particular have forced Americans to face an ugliness that has been lurking in the shadows and no one likes what they see. I'm not here to give political commentary, and I feel inadequate to do so as I do not I know all the details of either case (given how cut off from the world I am during PA school it's almost a miracle that I've heard of these cases at all). However, I think we can all agree that these cases are tragedies (for any loss of life is a tragedy), and I would go further and say that it seems like clear injustice has occurred in at least one case, if not both. I can completely understand the anger that has been expressed across the country over these cases and their trials. It is beyond frustrating to feel that justice has not been served, especially when lives have been lost. Facing such darkness can easily hurt and dishearten, but rather than paralyzing us with fear or a sense of helplessness, it should drive us all, and Christians in particular, to action -action that strives for justice in order to bring peace.

     As I come to the close of this post, I am reminded of a prayer I found during Advent two years ago which reads as follows, "Come, long-expected Jesus. Excite in me a hunger for peace: peace in the world, peace in my home, peace in myself." Christians are called to be peace-makers, as well as protectors of the oppressed and voices for the voiceless, so I am faced with questions I must ask myself of how I will work towards peace this Advent season and for the rest of my life. How do I use my position as a future healthcare provider to ensure that access to quality healthcare becomes a right for all, and not a privilege? How do I use my rights as a voter to support and demand justice in the government? How do I use my white privilege to seek equality for all, regardless of ethnicity or skin color? How can I use my history as a former victim of crime to speak up for other victims and to give them hope that they can heal? How do I use my power as a consumer to fight for fair wages and working conditions for all who labor? Or how do I use my power as a consumer to ensure that the animals involved in making the products I purchase are treated ethically and humanely? How can I use my position as a customer to encourage and reinforce the self-worth of those who serve me? How can I use the little I have to provide for those who have less?   How do I use the blessing of living in a peaceful area to help those surrounded by conflict? How do I use the love I learned from my own family to teach others how to love? Ultimately, and above all else, I must ask how I can become more like the true Prince of Peace that I may be His light in the world and spread "peace on earth, good will to men?" 

     This week I'm highlighting four carols, partly to reflect some of the different aspects of peace, and partly because I couldn't pick just one or two. I've already explained above my reasons for including "The Work of Christmas," "Silent Night," and "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day," but I made no mention of the third song, "Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence." Honestly, I'd picked it before I'd realized which direction this post would take, and perhaps it doesn't fit as well as I'd thought it would. I'm leaving it though, for a few reasons. Firstly, it's one of my favorite songs. It's simply beautiful. Like "O Come, O Come Emmanuel," hearing the right rendition of this song, especially in person, can make you stand still in awe. It's also another song in a minor key, which fits the fact that, while this week of Advent there's more light than last week when hope first appeared, the fulfillment of Christmas day is still weeks away and there is still much darkness left. Lastly, this song could be seen to reflect two aspects of peace: the silence of mankind when they finally come face to face with the Almighty, and the peace that will come when the "Light of light" vanquishes the powers of hell and the "darkness clears away."