Peace. Please. Peace.
The theme of the second Sunday in Advent is peace. I hope we think about it more than just one day, of course, and talk about it as much as we can. Just like that, even: Peace. Please. Peace.
In fact, I have been, and it occurs to me that I misspoke the other day. In reflecting on peace, I said that, in churches, we tend to talk about peace one of two ways. We talk about the peace which is the practical end of conflict, the “world peace” of everyone just getting along with no wars and peace and justice for all. That would be awesome.
Or we talk about peace within ourselves, the inner peace of knowing God’s presence (however we might know God) and love in our lives. This is the spiritual peace of knowing the divine (again, however you might describer that) and being grounded in a sense of love and grace. It’s the sense of contentment that comes with the awareness of who and how we are in the world. That would also be awesome.
I went on to say that the key word here is “or.” How often we set them apart, even having separate days for them as if they’re exclusive. They’re not.
There’s no “or” here. If anything, it’s “and.” At this point, I’d even say it’s “AND!”
Imagine how different the world could be if we were all able to approach conflict, disagreement, dissent and difference from a place of our own sense of inner peace. If we knew ourselves and loved ourselves and were at peace with ourselves, wouldn’t we approach the world differently?
Instead of simply reacting, we might patiently seek understanding. We could restrain fear and anger and replace it with curiosity and calm. Instead of rage and violence, we could offer grace and love. Instead of suspicion and punishment, we’d offer care and kindness. Peace in the world out there would begin in the world within us, a world which began in love, a world that began in good.
True peace can’t be imposed, enforced or even negotiated. It’s found in relationships built on our awareness of the peace within, shared with the world around us.
I still stand by that. How I misspoke was that I missed one. There’s three ways we talk about peace in church, and it’s that third way which can be both most helpful and most damaging. Depends on what we do with it.
Paul writes to the Philippians “and the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:7). I’m quoting the King James Version here, just because it’s the one that’s always stuck in my head since I was an Anglican kid. I’d always hear it as part of the blessing. And I always thought, well, that explains it. No wonder we can’t find peace. It’s a mystery we don’t understand.
But it isn’t. We may not understand it, in the same sense that we don’t completely understand love - Paul again, this time to the Corinthians, “for now we see only a reflection, as in a mirror, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully” - but that doesn’t mean we dismiss it or give up on it. Because it isn’t about understanding in our heads.
We want to reason it out, explain it and implement it. But we can’t because, like love, it comes from the heart, not the head. What we can do is be open to it, welcome it, engage it and live it.
