In 1863, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote a hymn which would become a Christmas Carol that has lasted.  We still sing it 160 years later.  I’m going to read the words of the third verse, and I don’t know that they’ve struck me the same way as they’re striking me this year.  The thing about “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day” is it was written while the US Civil War raged. Here are the lyrics:  “And in despair, I bowed my head/”There is no peace on earth,” I said/ For hate is strong and mocks the song/Of peace on earth goodwill to men.”

I heard someone say recently, “I’m stressed out from watching too much news.”  We get it.  We hear the headlines. 

UN commission to investigate Hamas sexual violence, appeal for evidence    Situation in Southern Gaza ‘Worse by the hour’ WHO Official Says   Yemen’s Houthi Rebels Claim Attacks On Ships in the Red Sea   A Venezuelan vote on an oil-rich region of Guyana raises concerns of a South American military conflict  As its counteroffensive fizzles, Ukraine battles itself, Russia and a shift in the world’s attention.

The news stresses me out.  We can be happy that the escaped kangaroo was found, at least!  Even in the midst of that news, concerns are raised about the care and welfare of animals in unregulated zoos.   Is there any good news for us?

Is there any good news for us?  The question of peace may be a personal one.  Where is our peace in the midst of uncertainty, struggle, and suffering?  Who is our peace?  For some years I’ve been “on call” at the Behavioural Disorders Centre at Sunnybrook.  They have an inpatient program for those with OCD.   OCD can manifest itself in a condition called “religious scrupulosity,” in which your faith and OCD become entangled with unfavourable results.  They call me when they have a patient for whom they think it would be helpful to speak with a clergyperson.  The first time I ever went, the patient said to me, “I have no peace.”  My heart broke for them. 

Where is peace to be found?  In armed conflict?  In distracting ourselves?  In numbing ourselves in any one of the numerous ways in which we may numb ourselves?  In buying our way out of our situation?  What is peace anyway?  Is it simply the absence of conflict, or is it flourishing for all?  Is it right relationships with God, with one another, and with all of creation?

“Keep alert,” said Jesus.  “Stay awake,” said Jesus.  Here we are and we are longing to hear a word from God that we don’t hear anywhere else.  Here we are with the peace candle burning defiantly alongside the hope candle.  Peace is often associated with quiet, so let us take some time to quietly take these words in.

“For he is our peace….” (Eph 2:14)

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you to.  I do not give as the world gives.  Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.” (John 14:27)

Listen to these words from God this day.  Things are in disarray.  Isaiah 40 to 55 addresses a people in exile.  A people who had been displaced.  The people of Jerusalem carried away in captivity.  Things are far from peaceful.  The scene that we read in Isaiah 40 is known as a heavenly council scene.  There’s a kind of heavenly meeting going on of which the prophet has a vision.  God.  Seraphim.  Churubim.  Angels.  Archangels.  God speaks.  “Comfort, O comfort my people.  Speak tenderly to Jerusalem and cry to her that she has served her term, that her penalty is paid.” 

I want us to note something here about how these verses describe the tender heart of God.  Comfort, O comfort my people.  Speak tenderly.  How much do we long for God’s embrace?  Listen to the description of God in v 11.  “He will feed his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms, and carry them in his bosom, and gently lead the mother sheep.”  This is a place of peace.  Being in the arms of God is being a place of peace.  There’s a hymn about this that goes, “There is a place of quiet rest, near to the heart of God.”  There is a place of quiet rest, safe in the arms of God.

As we are thinking of peace and being people of peace, I would like us to consider.  To whom are we being called to be the arms of God?  We often talk about being the hands and feet of Christ.  In light of this language in Isaiah 40, where are we called to be the embracing arms of Jesus?  In the prophet Jeremiah, we hear this message to a people who are living in exile.  “Seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile; pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.”  Seek the good.  Do not let us get cynical about tender-heartedness or reduce this language to cliché.  I read something from Toni Morrison lately in which she wrote, “No more apologies for a bleeding heart when the opposite is no heart at all.  Danger of losing our humanity must be met with more humanity.”  Where are we called to be the arms of Christ?

The meeting goes on.  A voice is heard crying out, “In the wilderness, prepare the way of the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our God.”  “The uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain.”  A way back to Jerusalem will be made.  A way back to God will be made.  What kind of difference did a good road make 2500 years ago?  It’s hard for us to imagine in our age of highways and superhighways.  Given the season, we might say something like, “Every bit of snow will be ploughed, every piece of highway salted, the snow-filled places will be made bare with no icy patches.”  “Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together, for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”   Prepare our hearts for the way of the Lord to be made in us, which is the way of peace.  Let there be peace on earth, and let It begin with me – seriously.

It’s hard to say in the midst of all those headlines I read earlier and in the midst of the lack of peace that is felt within.  We’re not good at this peace thing!  A voice says, “Cry out!” and I said “What shall I cry?  All people are grass, their constancy is like the flowers of the field.”  We are not constant.  We are not faithful to God.  We are not faithful to one another.  We are not faithful to God’s creation.  The answer comes, “The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever.”

The word that says, if we’re listening, “He is our peace.”  The word that says, “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give you. I do not give as the world gives.  Do not let your hearts be troubled or let them be afraid.”

Here is your God!  It’s not all about peace and quiet.  Peace is not simply personal or individual.  “Get you up to a high mountain,” comes the word.  Shout it from the rooftops.  Make our Prince of Peace known in our words and in our actions.  Lift up your voice with strength.  Lift up your voice with strength.  Lift it up, and do not fear.  Say, “Here is your God.”

He’s here.  He’s with us. He’s coming.  Prepare the way, God helping us. 

Into a situation in which there were varying opinions about what or who would bring peace comes John the Baptist.  Mark begins his story of good news with good news and reminds us who the story is about.  This is not a story in which we reign supreme.  This is not a story in which we are left to our own devices.  “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”  The Prince of Peace.  Cousin John was a man who knew his role (and, by extension, our role) – point to the One who is greater.  He comes striding through the desert dressed like an Old Testament prophet in a camel-skin suit.  He came eating locusts and honey, symbolizing judgement against oppression and the promise of a new land.  His style of dress and diet spoke of the kind of life to which he called people, so let us hear the call.  His style of dress and diet speak and show of a life focussed on and founded in God.  Someone has described John the Baptist like this: “He is…about turning things upside down… John is confident that the One who is coming will offer true peace. A peace that transforms, equips and unites. A just peace that lifts up those who have been pressed down gathers in those who have been ignored and strengthens those who have been made weak. We are called to move beyond individualistic thinking. The comfort proclaimed in Isaiah and echoed by John in the Gospel of Mark is not my comfort or your comfort, but it is our comfort. We are called to think beyond the “I” into the “we,” from the “me” to the “us.” That’s the Advent call, the invitation to invite God to inhabit our world by working together to open the roads, remove the barriers and fill in the pits so that we can see God coming and rush to worship together.

He is your peace.  We are invited to step into His peace in a whole new way this Advent season.  We talked about Christmas as a time of commemoration.  Immanuel.  God is with us.  God’s kingdom comes.  Advent is a season of waiting and looking forward to the kingdom that is coming.  Listen to these words from Isaiah 9:

 ⁶ For a child has been born for us,    a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders;     and he is named Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God,     Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. ⁷ His authority shall grow continually,     and there shall be endless peace for the throne of David and his kingdom.     He will establish and uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time onwards, and for evermore, The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this.

The verse we heard from “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day” is not the end of the song; no more than an absence of peace is the end of the story.  The bells still ring out, cutting through the tumult and turmoil of conflict.  The next verse goes like this, “Then rang the bells more loud and deep/ God is not dead nor doth He sleep/ The wrong shall fail, the right prevail/ With peace on earth, goodwill to men.”    May we all welcome the peace of Christ this season.  Amen.