Peace?

Oh, yes, I know that the word peace springs from the angels' message to the shepherds, peace on earth...,but in neither case does the word peace seem to describe the actual situation.

But as I was ruminating about the word, it suddenly occurred to me that perhaps we should hear that word as one of irony, not describing the present, but bringing to us the future.

Then, the word can make some sense.

Rome and peace.

Yes, for years we have heard about the Pax Romana, the peace of Rome, that was supposedly in sway during the reign of Augustus Caesar.

But what sort of peace was it actually?

It was maintained by fear and the point of the sword, not by the consent of the governed.

Rome was expanding its sway by continuing conquest.

One did have a choice: conform, submit, flee beyond the next border, or die.

Any remaining dissent was ruthlessly and efficiently squelched.

Several generations earlier, the ruling family in Israel started squabbling among themselves about who should do what, lead what, and be prince or priest.

One part of the family made the foolish blunder of inviting the Romans to come and help their side in the violent argument, and of course the Romans were only too glad to come; and once there, simply took over.

As a result, the land was a cauldron of seething resentment against these foreign interlopers.

Peace? Oh, sure; the kind of peace which has literally thousands of persons crucified, hanging on crosses that lined the roads for miles.

All the known world being at peace; what an ironic line that we speak with bitter laughter.

It has been the same with every despot before and since, from Egyptian pharaoh to Iranian mullah.

We've heard the kind of things that happen in China as well as so many places around the world.

Two weeks ago we remembered a Chinese Christian, Shuang Shuying in our prayer of the church.

I saw a photo of a woman who was worn and aged because of her treatment during two years of imprisonment.

Among much other abuse, she was forced to stand naked outside in the cold, to try to break down her faith in the Lord Jesus. She was sustained by the word whispered to her by her son that thousands of persons were naming her in prayer all around the world.

I met one of the few remaining Christians living in Bethlehem.

He was so tired with the hassles of daily living, with Israeli rules and Palestinian hatred.

He just wanted to sell me some goods so that he could live a little more.

Faith was very faint for him, without peace.

Proclaiming peace where there is no peace is a problem inside the church as well as in interface with the world.

In Luther's day Emperor Charles V and his bishops demanded that the German princes shut up and go along with him so they could present a united front against the Turks.

The refusal of the princes to give up their understanding of the faith led to the split in church organization.

In the struggle going on in our denomination these days, the hierarchy proclaims a peace that they intend to enforce by draconian changes in rules to go into effect in July.

Pastors who disagree get the message clearly that they will never receive another call in this church body.

All the world being at peace.

The irony of peace but not peace is hardly what we want to think about tonight.

Let's just focus on a cute and tiny baby, the picture from the Christmas card that all of us carry around in our minds, the picture reinforced by every Christmas pageant we've ever seen.

It would be a true and responsible thing for us to hear the proclamation of the angels, peace on earth, not as a description of what wonderful persons we are now, but of God's intention for us.

We know ourselves to be caught up in sin, and not at peace.

By peace, we mean all that is implied in the old Hebrew word shalom, which is everything and everyone in their proper relationships with God and each other.

This is what Emmanuel, God with us, will do.

This is what Christ is to accomplish among us; everything and everyone put back together the way that God has always intended it to be.

In the Middle Ages, December 24 was the day of Adam and Eve, then followed by the day of the new Adam, Jesus, on December 25.

The ones who messed up every relationship, Adam and Eve, are followed by the one who puts things right, the Lord Jesus.

Remember in our icon of the Resurrection, the Lord Jesus breaks down the doors of death and reaches out his hand and pulls Adam and Eve out of the darkness of death.

And once grasped by Christ, they are not ever the same again.

They, and we, are being transformed, anticipate that our transformation is a sure thing, and at the last will be completely transformed.

Peace is our future; not the peace of the jack-boot tyrant, but the peace of Christ who invites, urges, encourages, and entreats us, and who prepares the way for us, the one who puts things into their proper relationships.

But there is something of peace that we have now.

When we leave here this evening, it is not just with a reminder of the sweet by and by, but with the confident message that God is come among us in Jesus born in Bethlehem.

He shares and honors our struggles, and makes use of them in ways that we don't always see or understand now.

I remember a very difficult Christmas Eve when I was a boy, when things were not going well at home.

One problem led to another, and it was clear that we were going to be late getting to church that night.

I was so angry about the whole situation that I refused to get into the car.

Only after considerable encouragement did I at last consent, but I was determined to remain angry.

Our usual spot for three generations was in the third pew on the right side.

It was long since filled that night, so we sat on folding chairs in the back, something I have never done before or since.

But as the lessons and carols continued that night, gradually they gathered me in, so that my anger dissipated and was replaced with thankfulness that Jesus has come for me, too.

That's the first step in peace, the true peace which we need, indeed.

This has been such a serious time thinking together this evening, so something a bit lighter.

I'll tell you about another Christmas Eve and the gift of peace.

It was a snowy Christmas Eve in Catawissa, 20-some years ago.

The service was moving along well, and as the Offering was beginning to be received, I was standing in the narthex, and noticed something missing.

I turned to the sacristan and said, “Where's the wine?”

All I got in return from her was the deer in the headlights stare.

I turned and bolted out the door and up the sidewalk to the parsonage and grabbed the bottle of wine which we had set aside for the family celebration the next day.

Yes, I was running in full vestments, and yes, the sidewalks were icy.

It suddenly occurred to me that the headline in the Press-Enterprise would not be kind: “Pastor breaks leg in midnight service but keeps wine bottle safe.”

So I told myself to get a grip, to slow down, to keep my body as well as the wine bottle safe.

Donna could have the choir sing the anthem a second time, or something.

But I made it back to the church safely, the wine was poured into the flagon, the offertory proceeded right on schedule, Christ's body and blood were shared in good order, my disappointment with the sacristan faded into insignificance, and the peace of Christ was certainly given to us together that night.

Our carol has it right:

Hark! The herald angels sing,

“Glory to the new-born King,

Peace on earth and mercy mild,

God and sinners reconciled.”

[LBW#60.1

And we can pray another text that we don't know so well:

Lord, cleanse the depths within our souls

And bid resentment cease;

Then by your mercy reconciled,

Our lives will spread your peace.

[LBW#307.4]

All the world at peace?

No, not yet.

But it will be, in God's good time, and it has already begun, in Bethlehem.

Amen.

Please note: The preceding sermon is provided as a resource for the thought, prayer, and meditation of the members and friends of St. Mark's. It is the residue of a verbal event, and thus it does not have academic footnotes and other details that would be expected in a written document. The writer gladly acknowledges the prior thought and work of many Christians before him.