The Prince of a Different Kind of Peace

I love Handel’s Messiah. I listen to it frequently at this time of year. I don’t ever get tired of it unlike Jingle Bells Rock and its ilk. I can hear -- perhaps you can too -- the words and the music of the Messiah in my mind, especially those joyous words from Isaiah

For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given, and the government shall be upon His shoulder; and his Name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlastingly Father, the Prince of Peace

“The Prince of Peace” those are the words that lift my heart. Isn’t it true that peace is what we want above all else. Whether 15 50 or 85 years old – a parent, a grandparent, an aunt or an uncle, a daughter or a son -- in our heart of hearts we sincerely long for peace for our loved ones -- indeed, for everyone. So it is that the coming of the Prince of Peace whose birth we will shortly celebrate rightly lifts our spirits and renews our hope for peace.

Certainly, we need such hope in our world. I searched the New York Time archives for the last several weeks and found dozens of articles on peace efforts, processes and hopes, involving the Middle East in general, and particularly Palestine and Israel, and of course Iraq, as well as Afghanistan, Dafur, and Somalia among the places where war and violence are the norm. So we thank God for the promise of peace that Jesus brings. But what is that promise?

In our world what do we think of these days when we talk about peace? Too often peace is thought of as the absence of violence. When the officials and the generals talk about peace in Iraq, it means the cession of violence -- no more killing of Shitties or Sunnis or Kurds by each other or by outside terrorists. And of course it means that no more of the soldiers there will be cut down by bullets or bombs or improvised explosive devices. It is true as well for Israel and Palestine. Peace seems to mean the absence of violence -- no more bombs on buses, Katyusha rockets falling on Kitibutzim and no more helicopter attacks in Gaza and the West Bank.

The modern symbol of peace seems not to be the babe in the manger but a wall built to separate one group from another. Peace -- that is the absence of violence is achieved by separation. Think about the Balkans. Have we really achieved peace there? We certainly have reduced, if not eliminated, violence there by separating even more effectively Serbs, Bosnians, Croats and Albanians one from the other. But is that peace?

In the aftermath of 9-11 there has been a tendency here as well to blur the distinction between security and peace. If we are truly and completely secure then we have peace, so the thinking goes. In the past five years we have created more and more barriers to keep the unwanted, the undocumented and the dangerous out. We have listened clandestinely to, oh, so many calls. Quite likely we are more secure today then on 9-10. But are we in a real sense more at peace?

The passage that I read a moment ago from Isaiah paints a very different picture of peace.

The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together … the cow and the bear shall graze, their young

Whether you like Isaiah’s poetic picture or think it trite, there is a profound message lurking behind it. The wolf and the lamb are not at peace because they are separated from each other by a fence or a wall. Rather they are at peace because they are living together in community – connected and in relationship. That is the scripture’s, and especially Jesus', definition of peace. It is not about separation but connection. In Hebrew the word for peace is Shalom; it literally means “fullness”, having everything one needs to be wholly and happily oneself.[1] But in point of fact we cannot be fully ourselves -- as God wants us to be -- alone behind a wall, safe perhaps, but separated from the fullness of creation. We are most fully ourselves when we love God and our neighbors and that cannot be done in isolation -- no matter how secure we are. We grow as human beings when we realize that as God’s creation we share more in common than we have differences and that from those who are different we have much to learn, if we will engage with them. Such is the predicate for true peace

Three weeks ago in this very sanctuary, the faith traditions that grace this community held an Interfaith Thanksgiving Service. At that service a Rabbi introduced an Imam, who offered the Muslim call to prayer -- all in front of this Cross. There were no walls of separation that day as the representatives of the great faiths worshiped together and then sat down to share dinner. Real peace cannot occur without such joint experiences.

Even in our personal lives peace is not achieved through separation. Those in relationship do not achieve a true and enriching peace by separation. When one partner withdraws in anger or frustration from the other, a truce may be created but a loving relationship is not likely to be achieved. When a parent and a young person erect walls of separation because they don’t understand each other -- with one too often stomping off in frustration and hurt -- quiet may be achieved but a lasting and healthy peace is unlikely

Now I can hear some saying, “this picture of peace is quaint but hardly realistic. Isn’t it just like religion to be so separated from the real world?" To those who scoff at Isaiah’s picture of peace as naïve -- ignoring the “real politik” of power and the need for security in our world, I say “hold on.” How successful have we really been in establishing real peace through the pursuit of security alone? To be sure peace requires a world without fear. To that end there is the recognition in scripture that peace requires the use of power to confront those who seek to subjugate and control others and creation’s bounty and by so doing to prevent true peace from happening. But that is not, however, to equate peace and security. Peace requires more than an absence of violence. Jesus made two radically different statements. First, he said, “Do not think that I have come to bring peace on earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. And yet he also said, “Peace I leave you; my peace I give to you.” Paradoxical indeed, and yet as Frederick Buechner has observed what Jesus means is that peace is “not the absent of struggle but the presence of love.”[2] Peace is an ongoing effort and an ongoing struggle but not one security.

To seek peace is to take risks, not to be completely secure. It is to struggle as the Prince of Peace did -- to reach out in friendship and love to the outcast – the socially unacceptable, the different -- whether prostitute, tax collector or Samaritan, even if to do so meant rejection by the establishment.

In 1969 in a Midwestern city there was a riot brewing between those who opposed the Viet Nam war and those who supported it. Weapons were in evidence on both sides. Violence was virtually a stones throw from breaking out among those who had spontaneously amassed late one evening in a municipal park. Into that park in the dark of night walked a protestant minister and his rabbi friend. They risked being caught up in a melee but peace required taking some risks. And peace happened. Never again did the passionate disagreements over the war rise in that place to the level of violence. Not because the police or the National Guard had arrived in force but because two men of faith eschewed security and safety to persuade the warring factions to talk and to recognize that the things they shared trumped their differences.

Reinhold Niebuhr once said, "If you want peace, work for justice." Of course, Isaiah said the same thing more than 2800 years ago and Jesus lived that message 2000 years ago. Peace just as much today requires that justice be available to the poor and that meek shall be treated fairly. So long as justice is denied to those who have little, so long as opportunity and the division of the resources of divine creation are so inequitably divided between the wealthy and poor, peace will not truly happened. If the wolf is hungry, I am not sure that it is safe for the lamb.

Advent is the time of the year when we wish and hope for peace. It is even more the time when the reminder of Jesus’ coming in Bethlehem calls us as a people of faith to take action in furtherance of peace. How do we take the risks that are necessary for peace? How do we move beyond a fixation on our security? History suggests that we cannot rely on logic or self interest to push us beyond security and comfort to seek peace. Those of you who read the book, Shantung Compound, a year ago will remember what took place in the internment camp in China. When self –interest was challenged, when comfort, security and survival were at issue nearly everyone, including the seemingly pious, put self first and cut off others. To follow the example of the Prince of Peace, what we need to do is to have the spirit of the Lord rest upon us as Isaiah said. Now, I know what you are thinking another vague sermon pronouncement. But I believe not. In Hebrew the word that is translated spirit is rauch. Literally it means breath. It is what God did in Genesis when he created man and woman. First, he molded them out of clay and then he breathed into them the breath of life. To truly seek peace – to take the risks that are necessary to lie down with our enemies -- requires that we take in God’s breath. That divine spark must go to our lungs, from there to our blood and finally to every cell in our body. We must take on God’s Spirit fully and completely. We must live it, it must change the way we live our lives now!

What does this spirit look like? We don’t have to guess thank God – for it was given to us in Bethlehem. The Son of God who came into this world to share our joys and sorrows is the clearest example of the embodiment of the spirit of God. The Prince of Peace is the reminder that the hard power of love is stronger than anything else in the world. If we let that power loose on the world demanding justice and fairness than peace will break out before we know it. But it requires that we catch that breath today. Don’t put it off till tomorrow. Join Jesus and take a risk on peace.

[1] Frederick Buechner, Wishful Thinking a Seeker’s ABC (New Y: Harper Collins, 1993) p. 83

[2] Frederick Buechner, Wishful Thinking A Seeker’s ABC (New York: Harper Sanfrancisco,1993) p.83

Meditation: December 9, 2007