Luke 1:67-79
Today’s Advent theme is peace. As Christmas approaches, we reflect on Jesus as the Prince of Peace.
The text today is a prophetic song of praise by Zechariah, the father of John the Baptist. He spoke these words when John was taken on his eighth day to be circumcised. Given what we later learn of Jesus’ life and ministry, Zechariah’s words are puzzling.
Zechariah says that God has redeemed – freed — his people. He has sent a mighty Savior in David’s lineage to save Israel from their enemies and from the hand of those who hate them. He has shown mercy to his people and will rescue them from the power of their enemies, enabling them to serve God without fear.
Anyone hearing Zechariah would think that God was about to send the Messiah to rescue Israel from Roman occupation. What else could they think? That was what the people believed God has promised through the ancient prophets. It was what they were desperately hoping for. Zechariah’s prophesy seemed to confirm that the time of Israel’s rescue had come.
The song of Jesus’ mother Mary prophesied the same thing. She says that God has brought down rulers from their thrones and lifted up the humble. He has satisfied the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty. He has shown mercy to the people of Israel, helping them in their great need.
And the angels announced to the shepherds that Jesus’ birth will bring peace on earth.
Such a message of deliverance would have lifted the hearts of the Israelites, who were suffering under oppressive Roman military rule. Most Jews in Judea lived day to day in poverty. Having barely enough to survive, if that. They often went hungry. They had to pay burdensome taxes. One-half of their children died before reaching 18 years old. They lived in fear of harsh Roman violence against them.
The Israelites in Jesus’ time yearned for rescue from these terrible conditions. If the Messiah was finally coming, they believed that he would fulfill their longing for freedom, peace and security.
Many people today experience similar hardships and long to be rescued. As we prepare to celebrate Christmas there are 50 wars occurring in the world, involving 97 countries. Most of the deaths and injuries occur in the wars in Ukraine and Gaza. In the past two years more than a million people have been killed in these two wars, including many civilians, many children. This Christmas, Ukrainians, Gazans and millions around the world, like the Jews in Jesus’ time, desperately long for peace.
I’ve mentioned before that my Dad was Jewish, and I grew up having many Jewish relatives. As adults, one of my cousins once ask me, “If Jesus is the Messiah, why are there still wars and poverty and misery in the world?”
A profound and important question. How do we answer it?
We know that Jesus has brought the wonderful gift of peace with God – intimate union with God — which is the greatest gift. We rejoice in that beyond measure.
But God cares about our lives in this world, about people’s suffering from war and injustice. After all, he sent Jesus into the world to redeem and repair it.
Jesus is working to bring peace and security and justice to the world as Zechariah, Mary and the angels prophesied. He’s just not doing it in the way people had expected. Not by war or violent revolution, and not all at once.
Isaiah describes Jesus’ way of rescuing the world:
“Here is my servant, God says, whom I uphold, my chosen one in whom I delight. I will put my Spirit on him, and he will bring justice to the nations. He will not shout or cry out, or raise his voice in the streets. A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out. In faithfulness he will bring forth justice; he will not falter or be discouraged till he establishes justice on earth.”
This is how Jesus is carrying out his mission to repair the world. By the Holy Spirit, quietly, resolutely, and persistently. That’s how Jesus lived and worked when he was on the earth. And this is how he continues to bring peace and justice to the world through us his followers.
Let me tell you a story about seeing Jesus working in the way Isaiah describes. I talked about this a few years ago, so some of you may remember it.
During the 1980s I had the opportunity to be in Nicaragua for two weeks. At the time a civil war was raging. Many civilians were being killed and injured. It was a horrific time for the people of Nicaragua. As it is now for the people of Ukraine and Gaza.
An organization called Witness for Peace recruited church people from throughout the U.S. to go to Nicaragua to meet with people who were directly affected by the war. To listen to their stories and observe what was happening. Afterwards to come back to the U.S. and share what we had seen and heard in the hope of helping end the war.
Our church in Illinois sponsored me and another church member to go as part of a Witness for Peace group in August of 1984.
After arriving in Nicaragua we traveled to the conflictive area near the Honduras border. We talked with many people and heard stories of the suffering caused by the war.
As we visited various towns, I sensed that God had something remarkable to show me.
On our final visit on our last day, we woke up in the morning to the sound of gunfire. We begin our usual day of hearing people’s experiences of struggle and loss.
We were invited to have lunch in a church and were hosted by the priest, Fr. David. We were eating lunch, when he casually began to play with his fork and spoon, tapping out a whimsical rhythm on his plate and cup. I thought, “This is pretty silly. What’s this crazy priest doing playing with his food?”
When suddenly my eyes were opened. I saw the wonder that God wanted me to see. I looked at Fr. David tapping out a cheerful tune with his eating utensils in a murderous war zone – – – and I saw Jesus.
In the midst of war, Jesus was present and active. Doing what Jesus always does. Pastoring and teaching and accompanying the people in their suffering and their struggles. Sharing their pain, meeting needs, and bringing light and grace, comfort and hope.
Once my eyes were opened I realized that Jesus was present in many others I’d visited on this journey. In the nun who met us when we arrived in the war zone and journeyed with us. In the grandmother who held her family together in love and strength amidst terrible hardships.
One day Jesus will bring an end to all war and misery. But even now throughout the world wherever there is war and conflict and suffering Jesus is present. He’s present through his faithful followers bringing peace and community and hope.
Jesus is present and active today in Ukraine and Gaza. Through churches and religious organizations and humanitarian aid workers who are providing food, shelter and healthcare — sometimes at the cost of their own lives. And in “ordinary” people who care for and help one another while bearing up under unbearable circumstances. In them and around the world Jesus is working quietly, resolutely and persistently, as Isaiah prophesied.
All of us can be Jesus’ presence, helping bring peace and justice to the world in our own spheres of life. That’s a wonder and a privilege.
Jesus is present and active through us as we lovingly provide comfort, encouragement and help to others in need. As we help transform conflicts and heal relationships among family members and co-workers and neighbors.
Let’s close with the prayer of St. Francis of Assisi, that so very well expresses how Jesus the Prince of Peace is bringing peace and justice to the world through us. As I read it, let’s each pray this in our hearts.
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me bring love.
Where there is offense, pardon.
Where there is discord, union.
Where there is error, truth.
Where there is doubt, faith.
Where there is despair, hope.
Where there is darkness, let me bring your light.
Where there is sadness, let me bring joy.
O Divine Master, let me not seek as much to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that one receives,
it is in pardoning that one is pardoned,
it is in dying that one is raised to eternal life.