“Yearning for Peace” based on Isaiah 10:1-4, 20-27

This week we were asked not to light the candle of peace on the Advent wreath. It was a request we took seriously, as it came from The United Methodist General Board of Global Ministries as a request to be in solidarity with the lack of peace in Israel and Palestine. Now, I wouldn’t want to spoil the ending for you on this or anything, but we have already lit the Advent Wreath, and we DID light the candle of peace. So you now how this ends. Except, we didn’t light the normal 2nd candle, the second of two purple candles. Instead we lit an Amnesty International Candle.

I should go back to the beginning, right?

This is the second week of Advent, the week when we traditionally light the candle of peace, to add to the candle of hope. The one small light fighting back against the darkness suddenly becomes two, which isn’t a whole lot of light but is double what the wreath previously held.

And we know there isn’t peace on earth, there hasn’t been peace on the full earth at any point since Jesus was born, but we yearn for peace nonetheless, and we know God as a source of peace, and Jesus as the Prince of Peace, and just like last week we connected with the Hope of God, this week we are meant to connect with the Peace of God and move a little bit more into it.

And, peace, in Biblical terms is more than just the absence of violence – although that would seem like progress right now. Peace in the Hebrew Bible is Shalom, a word that combines individual well-being with communal well being and thinks about the well being of the body, mind, emotions, and spirit – all while thinking about having access to enough resources to thrive. It is holistic. One can not be at peace if one’s neighbor is not.

In recent years I’ve learned that in many parts of Africa, our siblings in faith use the world “ubuntu” to say a lot of this. Archbishop Tutu explains:

The first law of our being is that we are in a delicate network of interdependence with our fellow human beings and with the rest of God’s creation… [Ubuntu] is the essence of being human. It speaks of the fact that my humanity is caught up and inextricably bound up in yours. I am human because I belong. It speaks about wholeness: it speaks about compassion. A person with ubuntu is welcoming, hospitable, warm and generous, willing to share. Such people are open and available to others, willing to be vulnerable, affirming of others, do not feel threatened that others are able and good, for they have a proper self-assurance that comes from knowing that they belong in a greater whole. They know that they are diminished when others are humiliated, diminished when others are oppressed, diminished when others are treated as if they were less than who they are.1

Then we get a request that says:

Our Christian colleagues in Bethlehem tell us that this Advent and Christmas in Bethlehem the lights that normally adorn the birthplace of Jesus will remain unlit in memory of those who have been killed in the current conflict. The patriarchs and heads of churches in Jerusalem have noted that the traditional festive services in the Holy Land will be somber in nature due to the ongoing war.

The second candle on the Advent wreath represents peace, and in some traditions is known as the ”Bethlehem candle.” This Advent, we invite Methodist churches across the globe to do something out of the ordinary and refrain from lighting the Advent candle on the second Sunday in Advent (Dec. 10) and on subsequent Sundays. (GBGM)

Now, we took this request really seriously. It got passed around, Worship Committee read it and discussed it in our meeting, we found ourselves discussing the root meaning of the candles. We all care deeply about peace, about the impact of violence and war, the grief and trauma in the Holy Land, and those who have been killed there. The request came from our siblings in faith who are THERE, and we tend towards solidarity around here, right?

But, the idea of NOT lighting the candle felt so very, very wrong. Curiously wrong, actually, we had to figure out why it bothered us so. I think I heard us land on the idea that we light the candle to honor peace, to seek peace, to connect with peace, and we just couldn’t handle NOT lighting it when it is needed so badly. But nor could we just ignore the request. That didn’t seem acceptable either, especially when the symbolism requested was to honor those who have died in this horrible war.

Thank God for committees, because together we come up with better ideas than any of us could alone. Today we lit an Amnesty International Candle instead of the normal purple one. “Amnesty’s trademark is a candle wrapped in barbed wire. The candle represents:

• The light of public attention that Amnesty members shine on the hidden abuses (the barbed wire) of human rights violators.
• The spark of public pressure that Amnesty members create in order to bring about positive change in people’s lives.
• The beacon of hope and solidarity for people who defend human rights, often at great personal risk, and for the many who become”2

So we lit a candle of acknowledgment of those killed, a candle of peace and yearning for peace, and a candle of solidarity with all at once. It still isn’t the perfect symbol, I’m not sure one exists, but we did it with great care. And now you are caught up.

After the conversation, Eileen Deming shared this quote from Howard Thurman:

“I will light candles this Christmas.

Candles of joy, despite all the sadness.

Candles of hope where despair keeps watch.

Candles of courage where fear is ever present.

Candles of peace for tempest-tossed days.

Candles of grace to ease heavy burdens.

Candles of love to inspire all of my living.

Candles that will burn all the year long. ”

None of this is to say that the original ask of the Board of Global Ministries wasn’t valid!! It was! The ask made space for us to really think about what we’re doing and why, and what feels like our response to an important request.

Now, every time we talk about peace, I hear in my head a simple truth, “if you want peace, work for justice.” I fear the consequences of this current war are not only the heartbreak and horror of Oct. 7th and the heartbreak and horror SINCE October 7th, but the grief, trauma, and fear of today will be the seedbed for conflicts for decades to come.

And that difficult reality also brings my thoughts closer to home. In the devotional from We Cry Justice for this week, Dr. Charon Hribar discusses the laws in New York City that create a particular injustice for those who are homeless. In New York City, there are 5 times more spaces in vacant buildings and lots than there are homeless people who need them. Or at least this was true 2 years ago, I suspect the basic truth remains even if the statistic doesn’t hold with the influx of migrants. Even more so, the vacant lots and buildings are usually located in exactly the same neighborhoods where homelessness is the highest. Why? Because those buildings and vacant lots are “good investments” to hold for a few decades and see if those neighborhoods gentrify. They’re held by shell corporations for unknown corporate prospectors. Meanwhile, the acquisition of the investment properties ends up kicking people out of their homes, creating ever more homelessness. And, of course, these facts aren’t neutral, they are created by the laws of the country, state, and city, which prioritize the wealth accumulation of the land prospectors over the lives of the homeless.

To be clear, New York City isn’t the only place such priorities are in place.

In addition to being blatantly inhumane, I fear such policies are the exact opposite of “if you want peace, work for justice.” What story are we telling people who fall through our safety net? That society is just? That they should seek the well-being of the whole because it will help take care of them too? That people see their pain? Alas, no. They’re taught by societal action and inaction that no one cares, they are on their own, their lives and their pain don’t matter. And that, dear ones, doesn’t lead us towards peace.

The prophet Isaiah sounds like many other prophets when he warns that the injustices of Ancient Israel will bring its downfall. Isaiah claims the downfall is God’s punishment, I tend to think it is natural consequences. In any case, in chapter 10 Isaiah outlines the ways that Ancient Israelite society is profoundly unjust – which we read – then how that’s true of Assyria too (we skipped that). Isaiah says they’ll both be wiped out as punishment, but that God’s love is such that the punishment will not wipe out all of Ancient Israel, there will be a remnant with which to rebuild. With God, hope is never wiped out.

Dr. Hribrar ends her devotional saying:

We are taught to obey the law, under the assumption that the social structure in which we live is just. But when the economic system and the policies that protect it are designed to put corporate profits before people’s lives, we, like Isaiah, must call out the policy violence that is taking place. We must be wiling to proclaim that these laws are moral and wrong.3

It is the way towards peace. It is also the way of Jesus. Among the most profound teachings of Jesus was the way of nonviolence. The premise of the Empire of Rome, the superpower in the time of Jesus was “first violence, then peace.” The response of Jesus seems to have been, “first peace, then peace.” You can’t wipe out violence with violence. It won’t work. You can’t build peace with violence. As followers of Jesus we know that neither violence nor injustice get us to peace.

But peace and justice do. Each time we call out an unjust law, we move towards peace. Each time we offer a gift in love to pick up someone who is otherwise unseen in society, we move towards peace. Each moment we find peace within creates more peace in the world. Each little way we seek to create more justice creates the space for more peace in the world. Each time we choose peace, and each time we choose justice, we bring along the work of God and Jesus… the work towards a nonviolent kindom of peace. May it come – soon. Amen

1Archbishop Desmond Tutu, God Has a Dream: A Vision of Hope For Our Time (Doubleday, 2005).

2https://amnesty.ca/what-you-can-do/youth/start-up-kit/amnesty-101/

3Charon Hribar, “41: Who to You Who Pass Unjust Laws” in We Cry Justice, ed. Liz Theoharis (Minneapolis: Broadleaf Books, 2021) p. 179, used with permission.

Rev. Sara E. Baron 
First United Methodist Church of Schenectady 
603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305 
Pronouns: she/her/hers 
http://fumcschenectady.org/ 
https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

December 10, 2023