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"Peace Prince" The chorus from Handel’s Messiah is my favorite rendition of this beautiful passage: "For unto
us a child is born, "....and He shall reign for ever and ever. Hallelujah!" Today we lit the candle of Peace in our Advent wreath, to symbolize our waiting for the Prince of Peace to return to establish his reign forever and ever. It's difficult to preach peace when we are at war. When blood is being spilt in the sand. Our sons and daughters, but also the blood of those who are waiting, hoping, for a new dawn in their home land. Then too, there are those we call "enemy" or "insurgent." We’ll need divine intervention, for our human attempts at peace…well, humans have rarely had much success on their own in pursuit of peace. I think that is because humans seek peace, often through instruments of violence. We subscribe to the mutual armament doctrine. You know what that is? That’s where we keep peace under the threat of mutual destruction. We’ve seen it in the movies many times. Two bad guy pointing guns at each other, each one afraid to pull the trigger. Sometimes it becomes even more complex, with three or more pointing guns at one another. All are afraid to pull the trigger. Because to do so will set off a series of gun shots that will put one’s own life in danger. In the nuclear arms race, the former Soviet Union and the United States both adopted a pattern of mutual armament. We pointed our missiles at them, and they pointed their missiles at us, so that neither one of us would ever have the courage to fire our missiles—forcing a cease fire to hold. Later, as more countries developed nuclear weapons, we became involved in the complicated standoff, pointing missiles at one another to force each to show restraint. The trouble is, if peace can only be achieved and maintained through the threat of force, is it really peace at all? It certainly isn’t peace for the troubled soul, as the years of the cold war remind us. It certainly isn’t peace of mind, for we are always wondering who might flinch first. I don’t believe it is the peace of Christ. We long for something more. Hoping for a peace that is not like any fragile cease fire we can enforce. We wait for a peace that is greater. As people of Advent, we long for real peace. Peace that is more than merely the absence of violence. Peace that invades the interior of our lives. After all, Jesus promised his disciples, “my peace I give to you. My peace I leave with you. I do not give as the world gives.” Ah—the peace of Christ will be different. This is the peace we await. It is the peace that comes as a light in the darkness. The darkness of human sin. The darkness of violence. The darkness of bloodshed. Into this darkness, we hope for the flickering flame of peace to ignite. The late mystic and theologian Henri Nouwen often told this story. “A Rabbi asked his students: 'How do we know the hour of dawn, when the night ends and the day begins?' One of his students suggested, 'When from a distance you can distinguish between a dog and a sheep?' 'No,' was the answer from the Rabbi. 'Is is when one man can distinguish between a fig tree and a grape vine?' asked a second student? 'No,' the Rabbi said. 'Please tell us the answer, then,' said the students. 'It is, dawn' said the wise teacher, 'when you can look into the face of human beings and you have enough light (in you) to recognize them as your brothers and sisters. Until that moment, it is night, and darkness is still with us.'" This story illustrates the moments when we catch just a glimpse of the peace that is possible when we who follow Christ become Christ-like ourselves. With the civil war looming ahead, in the darkness of great poverty and hopelessness, the great Christmas Hymn “It Came Upon the Midnight Clear” was given to the world by Edmund Sears, a Unitarian minister. In 1849 there was much tension over many issues in America, including slavery, the industrial revolution, and the California gold rush. “It came upon the midnight clear, that glorious song of old. From angels bending o’er the earth to touch their harps of gold. ‘Peace on the earth, good will to men, from heavens all gracious king.’ The world in solemn stillness lay to hear the angels sing. It is the original third verse is poignant for our own darkness even today. It is a shame it’s often omitted from hymnals, including our own. It reads: “Yet with the woes of sin and strife the world hath suffered long; beneath the angel-strain have rolled two thousand years of wrong; and man, at war with man, hears not the love song which they bring; O hush the noise, ye men of strife, And hear the angels sing!” Only then is there hope for the darkness. Only then is there the possibility of the peace which the Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, might shine into lives. Near the end of WWII, a Navy Chaplain assigned to an aircraft carrier had just gone to bed when there was a knock at his cabin door. A sailor entered. "Chaplain, the captain wants you on the bridge immediately. You don't have time to get dressed, just put on your robe and come to the bridge.” As the young clergy came to the bridge, the captain turned to him. “Chaplain, the war is over, we’ll need a prayer. Our radio is connected to our escort ships, I'm going to make the announcement that the war is over, and then we need a prayer". The captain made the announcement, the chaplain prayed, giving thanks for the news of the end of the war and the safety of the ships and their crews. Then the captain took the microphone and said; "I have one more order --- light ship!" Suddenly, every light on the carrier turned on. Then, in darkness around them they began to see it happen. On each escort ship that had sailed in darkness for years, hatches were flung open; running lights began to come on, as far as you could see pinpoints of light filled the night. ... The war was over; the people who had walked in darkness of war saw light--the light of peace.” But of course, that peace was not the ultimate peace of Christ. No, it was a peace of this world, and it did not last. We are at war yet again. But that peace, and light in the darkness that accompanied it, perhaps was a glimpse of what might be possible. I think it will be something like that, in the day when Christ returns and the light of peace dawns upon the earth. The people who walk in darkness will see a great light. Piercing the night. And we will know—immediately we will perceive it. The peace of Christ has come. Not like anything the world can forge. The peace of Christ will come. Until then, the glimpses of the light will help us, sustain us, keep us awake and at our watch. Until then, the glimpse of the kingdom we experience at the table of our Lord will help us, sustain us, keep us awake and at our watch. Our peace comes from the same source as does our hope. Our peace is in the name of Jesus Christ. In just a moment, we will gather around the table of our Lord. We will eat just a crumb of bread, and we will touch our lips to just a small taste of the fruit of the vine. And as we do, we will receive the gift of our Lord. The gift of peace. From the Prince of peace. Thanks be to God. |
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