“Peace on earth and good will to all”

Christmas Eve 2006

Peace on earth and good will to all.

Every year, we return to this wonderful tale about shepherds abiding in the fields, keeping watch over their flocks by night; about angels proclaiming peace on earth and good will to all.  Every year, we try to remind ourselves that the angels proclaimed peace on earth; not simply peace in some otherworldly, heavenly realm that the shepherds would experience when they died; but rather a peace that was to be found here on earth.

And, every year, we find ourselves pondering how far we are, on this earth, from realizing that wonderful angelic vision.

Instead, we debate the merits of troop surges in Afghanistan; we lament the spiral of violence and hatred in Iraq; the atrocities committed in Darfur and the Congo; the rising nuclear threat in Iran; the violence that has plagued Israel and Palestine; all have filled us an awareness that peace and good will are not yet universally enjoyed.  And, on a personal level, we all know people whose lives have been scarred by a lack of peace and good will, as families and relationships are torn apart by violence, by betrayal, by abuse and by anger.  The angels might have proclaimed peace on earth, but we have not done a very good job in living up to that vision.

So how we are to make that dream a reality? 

Well, the first thing that we must notice is that it was not enough for the shepherds to just listen to the angels’ songs. It was not enough, in the middle of that dark night, to turn to each other and say, “Well, then, we’ve heard the song…peace must be on earth now. Let’s throw a party; let’s have a celebration; let’s declare a national holiday.”

To the contrary, the shepherds were called to do something in response to the angel’s song.  They had to go to Bethlehem and “see this thing that had come to pass”.

And go they did.  They went; they saw the Christ child; and they were transformed by that experience.

Sadly, it is difficult, at this time of year, to experience the transforming power of this story.  We know it so well that we have lost the shocking surprise that lies at the heart of it – that the Messiah, the Son of God, was born in a stable.  It has become so laden with commercial and cultural baggage that it is hard to catch sight of the shocking sight of the infant lying in the manger. And, when we are hesitant to even say “Merry Christmas” for fear of causing offense, how much less likely are we to joyfully and boldly join the angel’s song about the coming of the One who would bring peace and good to all?

Consider what we have replaced the shepherd’s actions and the angels’ songs with.  They left their work behind to go and see this thing that had come to pass – we leave work behind in order to make sure that we get to the stores on time.  Rather than returning with songs of praise on our lips, we return with a sense of dread about mounting size of our impending credit card bills, with a sense of frustration about how long we have had to stand in the checkout lines.  The great traditions of Christmas have been overshadowed by our modern traditions of rushing the kids off to badger Santa with their lists of what they want, and trying to figure out how to avoid certain people at the office holiday party, to say nothing of the tiring and sometimes difficult tasks of navigating complex family dynamics in order to try to make sure that everything goes smoothly without causing great offense at Christmas dinner. 

While I love Christmas, and do not think that the role of religion is to empty Christmas of its fun, its frivolity, its sometimes silly but lovely dimensions.  We trundle our kids off to Santa as well.  But I sometimes fear that what sometimes seems absent from these modern Christmas pursuits is any spirit of hope for this world, any word of a love that gives unselfishly, any encouragement of generosity in anything other than things, any vision of peace for the world -- anything of the true meaning of Christmas. 

Which is not to say that we have to impose Christian or ‘real’ Christmas traditions on those who do not follow the path of Christ.  But when we strip the Christmas story of anything which speaks of the gift of God’s love in the form of a child, of the vision of peace on earth, then what are we left with, except for some jingling bells, a frosty snowman, some twinkling lights, and huge debts to face in the new year?

We need to hear the angel’s song again – and realize that it was a song that was meant for the world.  The angel’s did not seem to limit their song to people of one religious, or political or philosophical ideology, but sang instead about peace on earth and good will towards all people?   So why is it so much more acceptable to substitute silly rhymes about red-nosed reindeers and to allow the content of our dreams to be for a white Christmas instead of that great dream of peace, hope, and love for this world that was once proclaimed by angel voices on the cool night air just outside of the little town of Bethlehem?

The Christmas story is not meant simply to be a story for Christians; it is meant to be the gift of the Church to the world because it is a dream about what life might be like, not just for Christians, but for the world. The Christmas story, with its vision of peace, of good will, of love, is meant to offer an alternate vision of the world—especially when the world, as it is, is so marred by violence, by hatred, by injustice, by war, by hunger and by poverty.

The question, of course, is how do we make that vision a reality?  How do we shape our lives in response to the angel’s song?

We cannot just sit back, nod our agreement with the substance of the angel’s song, and think that we have done our part.

We must, like the shepherds, make our way to find out what the singing is all about.

And what happens to us, when we make that journey, is that we discover a truth that far surpasses the Christmas card snapshot of the Gospel that is so common at this time of year.

We discover that love was born in that manger—and that the story of that love did not end on that cold Bethlehem night.   

The child grew up—and showed us the way to live lives of love and peace.  The child grew up and showed us that the way to live life—in all of its fullness—was to love others, regardless of whether the ‘other’ is a neighbourly friend or a sworn enemy.  The child grew up and showed us that his vision of the world was a community where no one was excluded, and where the good, the bad, the poor, the sick, the scandalous, the impure, the broken and the marginalized would be welcomed with open arms.  The child grew up and told us that the key to the future—and the only way to be liberated from the past—was to embrace a life of forgiveness. The child grew up and told us that God’s essential nature is love.  The child grew up and showed us the nature of courage in the face of death.  The child grew up and showed us that suffering, humiliation, pain and death itself pale in comparison with the power of that love that brings life.

If we are ever going to realize the vision of peace on earth, then we, like the shepherds, must do more than sing a few songs about it.  Rather, if that vision is to be realized, in this world, then we must seek to allow our lives to be filled with the compassion, the peace, the forgiveness, the courage, the grace, the love that he so freely offered to others.  

The good news, of course, is that the power to achieve such a love and such a grace does not have to come from ourselves alone.  What the shepherds discovered, when they made their way to Bethlehem, was that the child that had been born had the power to transform them.  They went to that manger filled with incredulity, with excitement, and with questions.  But they went away from that manger filled with songs of joyful praise to God.

May it be the same with each one of us.  May none of us sing a few songs, but neglect to hear the call to love, to forgiveness and to grace that the child continues to extend to us.  May none of us think that Christmas can be complete until we have knelt, at the side of the manger, and allowed our hearts—and our lives—to be transformed by the coming of love.

And may every one of us become ever more resolved to allow our lives to be so filled with peace, with love, with forgiveness and with grace that the angel’s song about the birth of the One who would bring peace on earth and good will to all people might actually be sung in us.