Loading...Welcome to “Peace:” the second Sunday in the season of Advent.
When we lit the first and second candles in our Advent wreath today, we were reminded that war and violence can be found all around the world. People have a sense of unrest while our hearts yearn to follow Isaiah’s call for the wolf to live with the lamb, the leopard to rest with the baby goat, and all the rest of what seem to describe impossible relationships—relationships between people with unlikely friendships and alliances—to find ways to live in peace when people around the world struggle with broken relationships, complicated communication, and unresolved conflicts.
We cannot escape this reality. But as people of faith, we know peace comes through our faith, our trust, in God. And so, we began our service today, lighting two candles to overwhelm the world, to remind us that God’s peace is coming. We pray that the light of these two candles will spark in us light we can share, providing peace to the world.
We hope that these candles will remind us that God continues to surprise us, teach us, and love us. And because we have been surprised, taught and loved by God throughout our lives, we have a foundation within us that guides us as we strive to live peace-filled lives.
I made a decision this week that might have surprised some of you. When you found the Gospel reading in today’s leaflet, you found two versions. One from our regular New Revised Standard Version, and the other, from Eugene Peterson’s transliteration, called The Message. While we don’t use it often, we do have permission to use this version from time to time.
On Monday, when I heard today’s Gospel read aloud in my weekly scripture study, I felt this was one of those times to switch it up because I felt the language provided a different image and better description for what I think this scene was all about. I felt that The Message was able to offer us a more realistic, perhaps an even more meaningful expression of what it means to repent.
So I decided to provide you with both versions in today’s leaflet, so you can see them side by side. I find the opportunity to see any of the many versions of the Bible side by side can help me learn and grow, sometimes with a lot of wrestling and wondering along the way.
That’s the point, I think. Many people have dug into ancient and dead languages to learn about how people wrote down oral histories and stories, and how they recounted historical and religious moments. The stories morph and twist as more is understood about a specific time, the author, and as more pieces of written documents are uncovered, like what continue to be found in the Dead Sea Scrolls.
Another way to consider all this is in reading the similar, but rarely the exact same, stories from Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. They each bring their own experiences and contexts to the telling. And Matthew and Mark were likely written by their disciples or scribes, after their deaths, so we are getting their stories through the lens of others.
Why does this matter today, on this day we light the candle of peace? Because when we better understand these things, the context, the historical circumstances, the author’s bias, the political climate—we have a better chance of finding ways to meet others and to bring peace to a family, community, or even the world.
When we take time to listen or converse or politely ask questions when we do not understand, we have a chance to repent.
The thing is, we might not know, or remember just what that word, repent, means.
Repent is just one way of defining the Greek word, metanoia. Meta, meaning “change,” and noia, which means “mind.” In other words, repent means to change your mind. The broad concept of repentance is to change, or to shift and re-orientate. It means we are supposed to grow.
Maybe that means seeing that the way we’ve always understood something might mean something different to someone else. It could be that we really didn’t know the meaning of a word, a historical event, or the impact words or events have on others. Maybe we were wrong, or couldn’t understand it from our perspective.
To me, metanoia, to repent, to change, means I am willing to learn something in a new way. And that can be hard. Maybe even hearing this gospel from The Message was hard for some of us to begin with, but isn’t it kinda neat that we can see or read something from a new perspective and be changed?
I truly believe that the more I learn, the more I have opened myself to see how others experience the world. And when that happens, I think it makes it easier for me to find peace when there may have been discontent, restlessness, or uncertainty.
John the Baptizer comes out of the wilderness, looking a little like Elijah with his leather-belted camel-hair clothing. He comes, proclaiming that God is present, and that the people must change their behaviors, change their focus, change their lives to make the road, the systems of the world, smooth and straight.
On Friday, Jeff and I were reminded of how Isaiah prophesied it in the King James Version of Isaiah 40:4-5, when we attended the performance of the Messiah with the Louisville Orchestra:
Every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill shall be made low: and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough places plain:
And the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together: for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it.
Today, John, like the prophets before him, called for it again: for people to be treated equitably. And doesn’t that sound a lot like peace?
The people came from all around to hear him. To listen to this Elijah-like messenger, hoping that what he represents—the leveling of the playing field—will make their lives easier and their dignity respected.
But that was not the motivation of all the people who came to the banks of the Jordan that day. There were religious leaders, Pharisees and Sadducees who tried to blend into the crowd, looking to receive this baptism of repentance. But John saw through them. He knew that the work he was doing was to help people recognize that they each, individually, needed to change for the world to become more equitable, more peaceful, for all.
And at least some of the religious leaders (and probably some of the others present) may not have had that intention when they stepped into the river. They may not have wanted to or may not have understood that this act of baptism set an expectation that they would change in some way that would lead them to seeing others as beloved children of God and would treat them with more dignity and respect than they may have in the past.
I don’t think anyone can force peace upon another. But I do think we can learn how to live in ways that show the world what peace can look like and mean. I think it comes from having hope that God is present in all things, and that God loves all God has created. It might mean that we need to begin the process by recognizing our own belovedness, our own value, and our willingness to learn and to grow.
A song was brought to my mind as I pondered this idea of peace, and I’d like to end with reciting the words as a prayer. I’m confident you might be familiar with it.
Copyrighted Lyrics for “Let There Be Peace on Earth”
By Jill Jackson and Sy Miller
Let there be peace on earth
And let it begin with me;
Let there be peace on earth,
The peace that was meant to be.
With God our Creator
Family all are we,
Let us walk with each other
In perfect harmony.
Let peace begin with me,
Let this be the moment now;
With every step I take,
Let this be my solemn vow:
To take each moment
and live each moment
In peace eternally.
Let there be peace on earth
And let it begin with me.[1]
Amen.
Copyrighted alternate lyrics:
With God as our Father
Brothers all are we,
Let me walk with my brother
In perfect harmony.
Or
With Earth as our Mother
Family all are we,
Let us walk with each other
In perfect harmony.
[1] http://www.jan-leemusic.com/Site/Copyrighted_Lyrics.html
Copyright 1955 by Jan-Lee Music. Copyright renewed 1983. International copyright secured. All rights reserved.
