2023-12-12
Brooke Strong
Sermon Text...
December 10, 2023 Hamilton Coe Throckmorton
Psalm 85:1-2, 8-13 The Federated Church, UCC
It’s painful. It’s painful to come to this second Sunday of Advent, this Sunday when we’re to celebrate God’s gift of peace, and to realize, as we do, that we are so far from living in a world characterized by that hoped-for peace. To see Israel terrorized by a Hamas invasion. To see innocent Palestinians severed of life and limb. To see Ukraine under assault still by Russia. To see gun violence in Las Vegas. And closer to home, maybe to see animosity in your workplace. Or your neighborhood. Or, worst of all, your family. Not to mention the personal unsettledness that sometimes stalks us, and not least during this pre-Christmas season of supposed tranquility. Here, somebody betrays a spouse. There, a parent screams at their child. Peace? It’s hardly obvious where this gift of God is taking shape. And truth be told, it may seem almost farcical to devote a Sunday to honoring such an elusive and oft-violated virtue.
And yet, that’s precisely what we do today. We say: God has given peace before, and God will give peace again. And not just that God will give peace. But that God is giving peace. The psalmist uses that alluring image of righteousness and peace kissing each other. And the psalm tells us that peace is both a gift—God’s gift—and also something we ourselves put into action. “God will speak peace to God’s people,” says the psalm, and it’s clear that peace is something bestowed on us by God. You and I can’t, by sheer willpower, bring peace into being. It takes something beyond us to make that happen. And at the same time, there is no peace unless you and I embody it. If you and I are fighting, God can offer us peace, but unless we claim it, unless we receive it and put it into practice, the peace God gives will simply languish on the sidelines.
Peace does indeed ask something of us. “Peacemaking,” says contemporary mystic and activist Shane Claiborne, “doesn’t mean passivity. It is the act of interrupting injustice without mirroring injustice, the act of disarming evil without destroying the evildoer, the act of finding a third way that is neither fight nor flight but the careful, arduous pursuit of reconciliation and justice. It is about a revolution of love that is big enough to set both the oppressed and the oppressors free” (from Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals; page unknown). Peacemaking happens, in other words, when we open ourselves to the power of God and allow that power to reshape our lives in ways we may not have thought possible. God gives, we receive, and then we enact.
The Hebrew word for “peace” is “Shalom.” And it has the sense of something like “well-being.” What God wants for all of us, for the world, for the earth itself, is well-being. And that peace takes shape on a variety of levels. Sometimes we find our own personal peace, our own inner well-being, by breathing in that peace. It may be as simple as deciding to breathe deeply. Researchers find that breathing in for a count of four, and holding it for a count of four, and then breathing out for a count of eight is enough to alter the central nervous system and bring about a heightened sense of peace. I’m going to invite us to do that for a moment now: close your eyes if you’d like; breathe in for four; hold it for four; and let it out for eight. We’re going to allow enough silence to do that cycle three times. . .. This is a way to soothe jangled nerves and to take God’s peace into our bodies. God speaks peace. We receive it. And then we embody it.
We likely each know someone who strikes us as a peaceful person. The Greek word for peace is “eirene,” from which we get our name “Irene.” That Greek word also provides our seldom-used English word “irenic,” meaning “peaceful.” I once wrote an email to a Federated member and told her that she had an irenic presence. Spell-check, unfortunately, had what it thought was a better idea, and changed my word “irenic” to “ironic.” So our mystified church member was left wondering why I thought she had an ironic presence! I’m glad she mentioned it to me so we could clear that up. What I wanted her to know was that, when she came into a room, she brought with her a peaceful aura. You and I can bring that same sort of presence with us, as well, carrying a calm demeanor into any room we enter. God speaks peace. We receive it. And then we embody it.
My guess is that, at one time or another, we’ve all received this peace, and it’s happened because someone we know has decided to act on it, has decided to embody it for and with us. Earlier in my ministry, a church member called me on the phone one day. When I answered, she lit into me and proceeded to itemize all the things I had done wrong in her eyes. She was livid, and I could feel her rage even across the phone lines. I listened carefully, and wrote down what she was telling me. There were seven points in all. To be honest, I was pretty devastated by her searing critique and hung up quite discouraged. A few weeks later, the phone rang, and it was the same woman calling again. I braced myself for what I assumed was going to be the reprise. Instead, this is what she said to me: “When I told my daughter what I said to you, she said to me, ‘Mom, how come you’re getting angry at Hamilton for all the things you’re really mad at Dad about?’ So I want to apologize for what I said to you on that call a few weeks ago.” When I picked my jaw back up from the floor, I thanked her for calling, and told her I understood, and offered her my forgiveness. And against all odds, she and I were reconciled.
And from this vantage point, I can say that somehow God had spoken peace to her, and she had received it, and she had embodied it with me. This is what we’re all called to. It’s a gift of the highest order. And it’s our privilege to carry that peace into every setting of our lives. May we be God’s ambassadors of peace, this day and always.