Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Peace on Earth

I like the holiday season for many reasons; one being that we talk about peace much more often. In the Christian tradition we spend the four weeks of advent talking about Hope, Peace, Love, and Joy. Many Christian congregations read passages of hope out of Isaiah picturing a type of peace that exceeds our experience and sometimes our imaginations. Christmas carols talk about “…peace on earth good will to men.” Friends send each other Christmas cards with “peace on earth” on them, or with pictures of lions and lambs cuddled up closely (Isaiah 11: 6-9). I feel sad though, when I perceive that these thought provoking words become as trite and apparently meaningless as Santa’s “ho ho ho;” as if the two were entirely synonymous. I wonder sometimes, what do we really mean by “Peace on Earth?” I’ve been thinking about this question through this holiday season and want to share some of my ponderings with you.

When I say “peace on earth,” am I asking something of God? If so, what? Perhaps, I am asking an all-powerful God to come down as a ruler, to put things right. Perhaps I’m asking God to end the wars, to change language and behavior, to be the one everyone knows is right so we won’t have to fight anymore. But does God really do that? Will God muzzle the lion and tether the lamb? Does “God with us” merely mean that there is a rooster in our hen house, someone obviously “on top” so we won’t kill each other? Does God use force to end force? So, what if I’m asking something else? Perhaps I ask our all-powerful God to take hopeless situations and turn them into something beautiful beyond all imagination. Do I mean to ask God for transformation when I say “Peace on Earth?” And what if God still chooses not to force?

When I say “peace on earth,” do I ask anything of others? Or, more powerful yet, am I asking anything of myself? When, at first, I see no other way than force to meet my needs do I ask the lion, wolf, leopard, and bear with-in myself to look for another way? When I perceive myself as powerless do I ask the lamb and calf to be courageous yet vulnerable? Do I ask myself to retain innocence as a child and my viper to be kind? Do I ask myself to look to those weaker than me for some direction though I may have power? And still, what if God chooses not to use force? Could it be that God, the only One who can transform, does not transform unless we want it, ask for it, and work toward the goal? Perhaps the first step to a peaceful world is ours; a step to join God in doing what God will not force.

It could be that “peace on earth” has no more meaning than a vague hope, like flipping through catalogues containing items we can’t afford. I hope that “peace on earth” contains prayer as well as anticipation. However, I also hope that “peace on earth” is more than relying on Someone stronger than us, but a reminder and invitation to join God in transformation.