It is after beginning the advent season, reflecting on the hope of Israel as they waited for their messiah, the hope of the Church as we wait for our coming king, and the hope of each person as we eagerly anticipate Jesus becoming incarnate in our lives today, that we now turn to peace.
Israel's own history was plagued with war, so it's not difficult to imagine that they would long for peace. Today, we also long for peace in the face of wars. What's quite shocking however, as we turn to peace this advent, is that the Church has never said war is what is compromising our ability to have peace. According to Jesus, what prevented Israel from having peace then and what prevents us from having peace now is anger (Matthew 5:21-26).
Suddenly peace isn't merely a thing we pray for “out there". Anger is much closer to home. Anger removes peace in our classrooms, in our workplaces, in our marriages, in our families, in the churches, and in our country.
God's word is proclaimed in the face of the anger in the world, piercing through the destruction in Israel, proclaiming, “Comfort, comfort my people… speak tenderly to Jerusalem. Tell her that her sad days are gone and her sins are pardoned.” (Isaiah 40:1-2 NLT) In the face of all the destruction left in the wake of humanity's anger, God announces comfort.
I like to be comfortable, and what better season for comfort than Christmas? As I remember past Christmases, I get pretty nostalgic about the memories around our tree, the smells, the tastes, the laughter; it’s all pretty special to me. Now that Christmas music plays in the grocery store again, I was struck by just how powerful the imagery is in a song like Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire. Everything about Christmas feels pretty special and comfortable.
At the same time, I've heard some studies are beginning to show that family Christmas celebrations are becoming shorter and shorter over the years at least in part because of the polarization our culture is experiencing. I wonder, if in an attempt to protect the nostalgia of our Christmas gatherings, we have lashed out in anger. We have gone to war with the very peace that Christmas celebrates. We've demanded who can and can't be a part of Christmas, what can and can't be talked about, what it should feel like to celebrate together, and so on.
It doesn't take a lot of thinking for me to understand what is being talked about here. I know the ways I have done away with peace and comfort with my anger, especially at this time of year. But here's where Isaiah picks back up: “Your God is coming!", he says (Isaiah 40:9 NLT). Christmas is about the very same spaces our culture has created. Where our polarization threatens to rip us apart in anger, a baby is born for you and all the world. Where Christmas no longer brings comfort, only stress and anxiety, a baby was born in a manger because there was no room (that would have brought stress and anxiety). Where my anger has been used to divide, Jesus was born to bring comfort and unity.
Christmas is a reminder that in all of this, Jesus was born to bring peace. He will come again to bring peace. And even now, in the midst of the chaos of Christmas preparations, he offers us peace.
May the Lord offer you his peace, which transcends all understanding, as you prepare for Christmas celebrations this year.