Peace Isn’t Easy

 

            As always, Christmas Eve this year was a wonderful, magical time. I felt that our services were both peaceful and joyful, a reflection of that great chorus in Luke who sang, “Glory to God in the highest and peace on earth, good will to all people.” We had our family home for the holidays for a special time of sharing. All was right with the world.

 

            Thursday morning, I woke up to a dusting of snow that transformed the world into a white-coated wonderland. Family was still home. We were eating way better than usual. What a great time to be alive!

 

            But before I was out of the driveway on the way to church that morning, that peace was shattered. Word came over the car radio that Banazir Bhutto had been assassinated in Pakistan. One of the largest and most strategically important and most dangerous countries in the world had been thrown in chaos, triggering a chain reaction of shock and anxiety.  

 

            Wow! Peace on earth didn’t last long.

            That seems to be the way of the world. You pull all the weeds out of the garden; within days you’re right back where you started. You can scrub down the world with antiseptic, but it won’t take long before the germs and viruses come roaring back. 

 

            That thought may be a bit of a downer, but it mirrors exactly what we read in the Bible today. In the Gospel of Matthew, we barely get through the joyful news of the Christmas story when the peace is shattered by violence. Matthew goes right from this story of salvation and bringing peace to the world into perhaps the most horrific story in the entire New Testament—a story of mass slaughter of innocent children and Jesus’ narrow escape from it.

 

            It causes one to wonder just what were the angels singing about to those shepherds in the hills. Was this Christmas gift of God-With-Us really a world-changing event? Was this peace on earth a condition that sweeps us into eternity? Or was it more like a 24-hour truce, where the opposing forces take advantage of the lull to retrench, rearm, reposition, and then go at it again.

 

            If Christmas was such a decisive event, why does the gospel story immediately revert to the same old same old? Is this Christmas story all just a pleasant illusion to make us feel as though something has changed when really nothing has?

 

            We long for an alternative next chapter to what we find in Matthew that would be far more effective. How about when the Magi reach Herod with their news about the star, the old king realizes what is happening? Herod understands that someone has come who has the power to accomplish far more than he could in his wildest dreams. He sees that this new arrival can bring new life and abundant living and lasting peace. So Herod repents of his ways and decides to follow Christ.

           

            The Magi go home, and because they are men of wealth and power and influence, they spread the news of what has happened far and wide. The message of Christmas sweeps through the entire world, and peace on earth, good will to all people becomes not just a slogan but a reality.

 

            Why couldn’t we get that kind of follow-up or anything close to it? Instead, we can’t even get through a 12-day Christmas season with our “peace on earth, good will to all people” intact. The Herods of this world always seem to be there to wreck it.

 

            This morning text begs the question, what difference, if any, did Christmas make? Was this claim to have brought peace on earth, good will to all people just an idle boast or a case of getting carried away with the excitement of the moment and making exaggerated claims? What did Christmas actually accomplish?

 

            I think the way to understand this is through the old good news/bad news format.

The good news is that Christ came into the world to save it, to bring peace on earth, good will to all, salvation, and eternal life. All that stuff is coming. Christmas is the most joyful, wonderful news ever to come our way.

            The bad news is it’s not going to be easy. Peace on earth, good will to all did not arrive at Christmas ready to play, right out of the box. Some assembly is required. Actually, a lot of assembly. And while some of that assembly is intuitive, a lot of it isn’t. We get ourselves into deep trouble when we don’t read the directions.

 

            Christmas was not the first version of peace and good will. It was introduced many times, centuries earlier, in the writings of the Old Testament. The instructions were quite simple. How do you get peace and good will? “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and all your soul and all your mind and all your strength, and your neighbor as yourself.”

            How do you get peace and good will? “Do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with your God.” It works, if you follow directions.

 

            Yet it seemed that so few people could follow those directions? Why?

 

            Two reasons jump out at us: 1) They had trouble understanding the directions. What exactly is love? Where does justice begin and end; what is kindness? What is humility? Some people understood the terms, but not enough to make peace and good will a reality.

            2) They had trouble trusting the directions. Human beings had gotten it into their heads that God is about power and control and majesty. God can’t possibly be reduced to these piddly directions. There’s got to be more. There have to be many more demands and requirements and codes of behavior.

 

            The Christmas package of peace and good will came with a new set of directions. You might say it was the updated, improved version of the peace & good will program.

 

            The best way I can illustrate what took place at Christmas is with an illustration of a basic principle of writing. I have behind the altar a piece of artwork. It is a picture created entirely of butterfly wings. It depicts a woman carrying a basket on her head. Butterfly wings of various patterns and colors form the basket, the contents of the basket, the woman, her dress, her headwear, and her shoes.

 

            I have three questions to ask you about what I just said:

            1) Do you believe me? Do you think I really have such a picture behind the altar?

            2) Can you picture exactly what I am talking about?

            3) What one thing could I do that would both help you to believe and allow you to picture exactly what I am talking about?

 

            I could show you.

 

            I have just illustrated the writing principle of “Show, Don’t Tell.” Ordinary writers tell what’s going on. Effective writers show what’s going on. The ordinary writer says, “Martin had a sore toe.”  That tells me about a toe.

            The effective writer says, “Martin’s toe was as swollen and purple and shiny as a ripe grape, with ingrown toenails that looked like carpet tucked into a wall.” That shows me a toe, very clearly.

 

            Showing is always more effective than telling.

 

            Remember the story of Thomas. The disciples had been told about the resurrection of Jesus. They were able to accept that. That works with people of great faith. But it didn’t work with Thomas. Telling was not enough. He had to be shown. And Jesus did that for him.

 

            The Old Testament version of peace and goodwill was more of a telling thing. It tells what God is like. It tells what love is about. It tells how to peace and goodwill come to earth.

 

            We ask the same three questions of the Old Testament that we asked about the butterfly picture. 

 

            1. Do you believe this is what God is like? Peace, love, humility, goodwill are not what we are conditioned to expect from God. Believing what the Old Testament says about God requires strong faith. Some people had it. Many people did not.

            2. Can you picture exactly the Old Testament is talking about? Again, this wasn’t easy. People so readily equate God with power and force and control and demands that they have a hard with this picture of God. Some people of great faith could get it; many people did not.

            3. What would help us see what God is like?

           

            Show us.

 

            If you read the Koran, you find the same adjectives used about God as in the Bible. Merciful, compassionate and all that. The difference is that the Koran tells us this about God: I can’t find anywhere that it shows it. It provides no particular reason to believe it other than blind faith.

 

            The Christian story shows us the mercy and compassion of God. That’s why I find Christianity so authentic and compelling. You can talk about peace and goodwill, but unless you show it to me, I don’t really know what talking about.

 

            Christmas shows us. You want to see exactly what God is like? Well, here it is right in front of you. God coming to earth in the form of a helpless baby. Jesus blessing the downcast and persecuted. Jesus healing the sick and opening the eyes of the blind. Jesus suffering and dying so that others might live. All right there where you can see it.

 

            Christmas comes with a new set of instructions, a clear illustration that shows us exactly who God is, what God wants (namely peace and good will among all), and how this is achieved.

 

            So if it’s the instruction are so clear now, what’s the deal with Herod?  What’s the deal with shattered peace, and all the bitterness and ill well that flourish in the world?

 

            The problem is, even the best instructions don’t guarantee success. Directions don’t do any good at all unless you do four things:

           

            1. Find the instructions. You need to know they exist and where to find them.

            This is basically what evangelism is all about. Evangelism is letting people know that directions to peace on earth, good will exist, and where to find them.

 

            2. Get close enough to see the instructions.  While you can get an idea of what this picture is like from where you are, you’ll get a much better view if you get closer. If you don’t draw close to God, it’s hard to see the instructions.

 

            3. Read the instructions. Like any instructions, the Bible doesn’t do much good if it isn’t read.

 

            4. Trust the instructions. That’s where faith comes in. No matter how clear the directions, they are of no use unless you believe them.

 

            Thanks to the Magi, Herod got to step one. He was told that the directions to peace and good will exist, and was told where to find them. But he never got any further; he never even made it to step two. He never drew close enough to God to see what God was all about. He never opened his mind and heart to studying God. And he certainly did not trust God.

 

            As a result, he made a mess of his life and the world in which he lived. The result was terrible suffering, death, and destruction. That’s how it works with all of us.

 

            At Christmas, God gave us the gift of clear instructions to peace and good will. Peace and goodwill is the place where God lives, and God gives us directions to get there. By following the simple instructions, we come to the place where God is.

           

            And the clear picture that God showed us at Easter is that if at last we can’t get there on our own, God will come and find us and rescue us from the destruction we cause.

           

            “He has shown you, O Man, what is good.” Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace, goodwill to all people. That is both a challenge and a promise.