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“Let Peace Begin With Me” 2nd Sunday of Advent Sherry Lohman - December 6, 2009 Isaiah 11:1-2, 6 My Dad was not a regular church going type. He attended duly, Christmas Eve and Easter, and occasionally in-between. That’s not to say he wasn’t spiritual. It wasn’t uncommon for him to pause to offer his thanks before a meal, even when he ate alone. And he was constantly offering up praises to God in his own fashion, usually with an admonition for us kids to sit up and pay attention, like, “Be careful with that stick--The good Lord only gave you one set of eyes, so you’d better take care of them.” The good Lord was present enough, giving us this or that, and Dad was there to remind us. Dad was also quick to point out the beauty of the land, or the many songs of nature. His genuine care and concern for others, and maybe especially, for me, left no doubt in my mind in regard to his connection with God./ I am exactly like my Dad, in one very, particular way, and that is, I enjoy a Sunday nap, albeit, in the afternoon. Dad would find a south window where the sun had already been at work, creating a toasty environment, and there, he would curl up on the couch or the floor—wherever the sun hit, like a happy cat on a windowsill. Usually, the newspaper rested tent-like across his face, shading his eyes from the intensity of the sun. I do believe Dad took up this practice on Sundays, in good time, after we left for Sunday School, or well in advance before church ended. Of course, Mom always had plenty of visiting to do, which afforded him at least another half hour. You can imagine, with seven children in the house, this might present an optimal occasion to catch up on some rest. It wasn’t unusual to find Dad asleep as we arrived home. No matter, we all knew the routine. Don’t slam the door, speak in hushed voices, and this—Dad’s special instruction: walk on the sides of your feet. Dad had a thing about kids, stomping through the house. And so he demonstrated, modeling how we could actually walk very softly, creeeeeping along gently, on the sides of our feet./ If you’ve never tried this, you need to—it makes all the difference, especially for the one who is trying to sleep. I have to say that, for the most part, we respected and honored these rules. I think we complied, not because it was a rule that would be strictly enforced, with due penalty, but rather, because of the lesson that Dad coupled with the modeling; and that was, that we be considerate of others. This was important to Dad; that we look outside of our own particular needs, with consideration for others in our midst, sleeping or not. This teaching was, in fact, one of the marks of Christianity that my Father wore well. In this morning’s scripture, we hear the prophet, Isaiah’s vision of God’s intentions: “The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them.” (11:6). This is a hopeful verse, although, in all seriousness, we probably don’t really think about a child leading the way, much less, leading peacefully. And yet, Jesus lived out his entire life in that way, hopeful for a world of peace. In our minds, we might find such a way of life impossible. We may believe peace, for Jesus, came easily. We ordain him with words, like “Prince of Peace,” forgetting that his life was filled with all of the complexities, perhaps more, than what we are faced with. We may carry the notion that in our striving for peace, we may be free from struggle or even suffering. The Hebrew word for peace is “shalom.” This means more than an absence of conflict. It means peace, wholeness, healing, safety and rest. St. Francis had another way of thinking about those who practice in the ways of peace, identifying them as those who, in all of their sufferings, remain at peace in mind and body for the love of Jesus. How might we accomplish that? The prophet, Isaiah, instructs us in the second verse. It is God’s Spirit resting upon us; the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and reverence to God. These are the underpinnings of God’s Spirit; what we find as we allow God’s spirit to rest upon us. This is where God’s peace is found; the peace that sustains us, even as we struggle with the chaos surrounding us. This is not an empty promise. Have you known this peace? Who wouldn’t find it difficult to etch out some time to rest in this Spirit of God, when we have full time jobs, families to care for; young children or aging parents, not to mention any self-care we might attempt. The challenges to meet our everyday demands leave little room for peace making. Even as a church, we may find it difficult to balance our discipline for peace with the many opportunities to serve others. We call upon the Spirit of God to rest upon our souls. We wait, we hope, and we pray.// Remember our prayer last week, “Deepen our longing for you, O God.” We pray, asking for God’s counsel, knowing that we don’t know---but trusting God to breathe into us, God’s spirit of wisdom and understanding. This is child-like….knowing that we don’t know, and trusting God. And so we practice, it is a discipline, cleaning out the clutter of our lives much like we clean out the clutter of our closets, only making room for God. We are preparing, in this season of Advent---preparing to follow in the tracks of a king who walked gently upon this earth. We do this in our private lives, and the church, calling upon God to direct us in every area (in our faith, finances, mission, outreach, programs, and music). We discern, coming together, in unity, listening for God’s direction. Eventually, Jesus comes to us showing us, just as my father did, how to walk gently upon this earth, considerate of all those around us. In this next week of Advent, might we attend to the many ways we have experienced peace. Take note of how often and when you have felt that presence of God’s peace, that inner strength full warmth, comfort and love, even in the midst of chaos surrounding you. Identify the moment—what you’re doing and how it leaves a lasting impression on you. Is it a feeling of reassurance or simply solitude; a feeling of great relief or extreme joyfulness or gratitude? Allow yourself to rest in that moment of peace (not just on Sundays, but every day; and frequently throughout the day). What would it feel like to turn over every fear or distraction and replace it with peace? Give yourself permission to receive God’s blessing for you, surrendering your anxiety and distractions. This is a spiritual discipline and marks you as a disciple; a peacemaker, because this is a peace that is meant to be shared. Our prayer, this week, is, “Let peace begin with me.” We all contribute to the healing of our world. Your small imprint, your compassion and forgiveness makes a difference as you walk gently with consideration around others; those who are sick and hungry, the lonely or homeless; those without hope, or anyone who have never experienced peace. “Let peace begin with me.” Say it with your actions, say it with a hushed voice, and walk gently upon this earth; it’s the only earth the good Lord gave us. Will you pray with me. God of grace, we thank you that you judge us not by the perfection of our actions, but by our readiness to live boldly by faith. Help us, as individuals and as a congregation, to trust you and follow where you lead, that your peace be known, here on earth. Amen. |