Second Sunday of Advent – Year C
Sunday, December 9, 2012
Let us pray: O God, the word “Peace” weaves itself into the narrative of this season. We sing about it in the Christmas carols that are anticipated in this season of waiting and preparation. We hear about it in the stories of Jesus' birth, and as we contemplate what it means to name Jesus as the Prince of Peace. We know also that this “peace” which we seek is elusive and mysterious with its double sided meaning – meaning that can often have it working at cross purposes in our hearts and minds. May these words be ones which truly allow for a path of peace – in both sides of meaning and not in a less than reassuring cross purpose. Amen.
First, let me say a bit about the name I gave to this reflection. I tried a number of different titles over the week. Title 1.0 was a characteristic (for me) play on words: Peace by Peace – Piece by Piece – and perhaps that ultimately would have been a better title for what you are about to hear. However, I met with the Ministry and Personnel Committee this week and had a chance to put into words what the sabbath time of rest and research had meant and done for me. In that conversation I was led to tell a story I've told a number of times – of how I was called to computers and computer science in the space of a few hours on a Saturday afternoon over forty years ago and the much more gradual call to pastoral ministry over a longer period of time. I've always seen the calling God has given me in part as a call to build bridges between the world of technology – which I believe is part of the way that God has gifted me in this life – and theology – the study of the presence and story of God's relationship with all of the universe – of which technology is an obvious, but small and important part. In the past twenty five years I've seen that calling as a kind of elusive pursuit. I was comfortable with that – for the life of faith as I've said over and over again is a journey – not a destination. But only about two weeks into my sabbatical time – in mid August – like a light going on in my head or in front of my eyes I came to the realization that for me at least - the study of open source and its broader implications for faithful, ethical, iconoclastic perspectives on the modern experience was the intersection I had been seeking. I described this experience as coming to a sense within myself that this topic in which I was so interested was the intersection I had been seeking for a quarter of a century or so. In other words I was suddenly at peace within myself and it gave new meaning and purpose for the things I would research, read and reflect upon during the rest of my sabbatical time. And so, that is how Title 2.0 came to be, but as I said before – Title 1.0 Peace by Peace – Piece by Piece might be a better one for what you are about to hear....
As has been alluded to already in the words that have been uttered in this worship service – there are some very interesting and at times disconcerting themes co-mingling in the readings and intended themes of this second Sunday of Advent. The tradition, for which I could not find the origin, although it as likely at least as ancient as me, is for this to be the “peace” Sunday in our four Sunday journey of advent. Peace is a common theme in the liturgical year outside of Advent, although the particular Sundays are clustered in the space of a few weeks – with Peace Sabbath occurring near the end of October, followed by a Sunday on or close to Remembrance Day (with a likely theme of peace) and then this Sunday in Advent. The clear indication here is that Peace is a holy theme – and certainly I believe that it strikes a chord with us, as one of the characteristics we ascribe to God and which is God's desire for us as well.
But we also know that despite this leaning towards peace as a holy aspiration of the people of God, that the scriptural record is also full of conflict-creating language. The gospel writers have Jesus telling us that his words will breed dissent, even among family members, and the Hebrew bible could rightly be described at least in part as a chronology of conflict and war.
A second theme of this Sunday in Advent revolves around John the Baptizer – whom according to Luke, is Jesus' second cousin. There are lots of things that can be said about John the Baptizer, but based on the description of him and his message that we have in the gospels, it is not all that likely that it would be described as a particularly peaceful presence. The feeling I get from him is more a stirrer than a pacifier. Not inappropriate – and certainly a down the road outcome of his message can quite easily be seen as leading to peace, but he just doesn't have a calming, soothing, settling aura about him, at least as I read the stories.
This however, begs a question. What is this peace that we desire as a characteristic of the faithful life? Where do we get it, and what does it mean for us in our lives?
The english language, as comprehensive as it is, can sometimes fail to encompass the full range of meaning or meanings that are part of a particular idea or concept. I firmly believe this is why it is valuable and broadening to have some knowledge of other languages, because of the wider range of meaning that can be discerned. I came across this in the previous four months of study and research. The term “free software” which I think was first coined by someone named Richard Stallman, better known in the software and tech world by his initials rms, is one that has this obscurity of meaning tied up with it. Rms, not long after he created the description “free software” had to further define what he meant by the phrase by adding a descriptor – which is commonly stated this way “free as in speech, not as in beer”. So the word “free” as he meant it was about a right not about how much it cost. This distinction is further clouded by the fact that “free software” is also often “free as in beer”, in other words provided without cost. In part, this confusion led to the creation of a new term, “open source” which attempted to be a better description. Even then, the terms were confusing to many people, so description was augmented by a word from the French language - “libre” which much better attached the meaning of “free as in freedom” to the concept of “free software”. So, now you can often see the abbreviation FLOSS applied – meaning Free Libre Open Source Software.
Well, I offer that simply as an example of the difficulty we can have trying to differentiate two themes or ideas when they can be described by one word. I think this is the case with the word “peace”. Peace can refer to a calmness of spirit, a separation from the cares, worry and stress of the world. It can also mean the absence of conflict. There is undeniably a connection between the two – the absence of conflict would certainly be a huge contributor to a calmness of spirit, but we also know that the ability to make a calm space in our busy lives regardless of the frenzy, stress and conflict that rages all around us is an important piece in the makeup of a healthy spiritual life. John the baptizer, for me, at least in the immediate interpretation of his message and ministry is not a peaceful presence. He is a stirrer and an agitator. His words ignited within the people around him, and I think within us, a pretty unpeaceful fire in our bellies to make things right – to smooth the path (as Baruch and Luke describe it) and to change the way we walk the path. Of course, the ultimate destination could be a more peaceful existence, a calmer and deeper sense of spiritual presence within us – but in the short term it is not that, as we are disturbed and shaken into a consideration of where our previous actions have taken us.
Have you ever noticed how certain moments in our past life take on a significance that rises above the majority of other moments? One of those moments is etched in my mind of a session we had in our final year of theological college. The president of the College – Bill Adamson – who for the most part was a very gentle and much experienced pastor and professor – combining for me a really wholesome combination of everyday common sense and thoughtful academic – had been invited for a guest lecture and discussion about ministry – based in part from his area of expertise in adult education and his experience as a church minister. He talked about the importance of dissonance in the creation of teachable moments for people in their faith lives. Clearly, in retrospect, he must have been practising what he preached because I've never forgotten that very brief but important insight. His claim was that when you can create some dissonance between the expected and unexpected, you create an opportunity which is rich in the possibility for deep and lasting learning to happen.
As he described it – dissonance was an upsetting of the tried and true – an insertion of the unexpected into the discussion, leading to new insights and refreshed perspective. John the Baptiser was a dissonant presence – with his wild appearance and piercing assessments about the waywardness of his listeners. And of course, as our readings and hymns have suggested, he was a dissonant herald of the one to come – Jesus – who practically defines the term “dissonant” or synonymously “iconoclast”.
I see this Second Sunday of Advent as an opportunity for dissonance – when we reflect on the desire for peace in the world and peace in our lives. Can it be possible for us to find peace in our lives without peace in the world? I am not one to say “no” to that. Finding inner peace in the midst of all this season with its demands and expectations – even though many of those demands are pleasant, uplifting and fulfilling – is an important pursuit. But the deepest peace can really only be accomplished when both types of peace are in harmony with each other. Of course I don't pretend that we have to find and implement an end to conflict in the world - but I do think that we have a calling to be different – to be bridge builders, to be people who speak out and take action against the forces of conflict in the world.
There was an important phrase that was part of my little bit activist past that had great meaning for me – think globally, act locally. I still like that phrase, but my reading and study in the fall introduced me to a new expansive phrase – made possible by the never-before networks of connection that have been created in this world – think globally and act globally. A decade or so ago, that would have sounded foolish, but the opportunity for collective action, and mass collaboration, peering and sharing are making it more than a utopian kind of dream.
I am surprised beyond measure about how hopeful I have become as a result of the things I studied. As I said last week, it was a source of the most unexpected hope I could ever have imagined. I hope I can share even just a smidgen of the excitement I have discovered. It is the most amazing thing to me, for in my mind I could just have easily come out of my time of study and research with a much more cynical or sceptical attitude. God is present among us indeed. Amen.