Advent Peace

Isaiah 40:1-11; Psalm 85; Mark 1:1-8

Second Sunday of Advent:  December 4, 2011

There is something so familiar about this time of year.  People counting down the shopping days until Christmas, trying to get presents for everyone on their list.  The decorations in the stores look pretty much the same from year to year.  Santa appears in the same malls, kids on their laps, elves at their side. 

And the decorations and shopping mania are not the only parts of our lives that seem the same.  The political discussions, the ongoing wars, the continued gap between the rich and the poor – sometimes it feelings like nothing changes. 

And the church is not immune to this never-ending cycle that brings the same old thing.  We too are back where we started as we move yet again through another season of Advent.  Year after year we come to the same seasons, same sounding lectionary texts, same sermons, same colors, same candles. 

We’re supposed to see Advent as a season of hope and expectation, but one might wonder how we can say anything about hope.  Hope at its simplest is the idea of difference, a disjuncture, a break into the constant repetition.  In other words, if we find ourselves back at the same place every year and things seem pretty much the same, what kind of conversation can we have about hope.

This week our Advent word is peace, and there may be no better example of this problem of same old same old than the issue of peace.  We might hope for peace – but how foolish is that, really?  When has there ever been peace on earth?  Isn’t it incredibly naïve to say, “let there be peace in Israel and Palestine?” Aren’t there always going to be wars…won’t there always be people who don’t get along and use violence to settle their differences?  What does it mean in Advent, the season of hope and expectation, to talk about peace?

Truthfully, when we read the bible, we encounter a similar problem.  We have numerous examples of God promising to make things right, and then the people ending up – yet again – living under the oppressive rule of some foreign nation, writing – yet again – about hoping God will come and set things right.  Look at our passages this morning:

Remember that the book of Isaiah is divided into three parts – each part taking place at a different time in history.  Chapter 40 – where we find our passage – is the beginning of the 2^nd part of the book.  When the prophet speaks the word of God to the people, they have been living with 150 years of silence from their God.  They have been living in exile under the thumbs of the Babylonians.  “Peace,” has not been their reality for generations.  And the first words they hear from God are words of peace – Comfort, comfort my people.  God says they have suffered enough – their sins have been forgiven, and now God is going to lead them back to the promised land.  Peace at last.  It is a VERY hopeful passage.

Then, we fast forward 500 years, and lo and behold, things are again not good.  While they are no longer living in exile, the Jewish people are living under Roman occupation – and there is certainly no peace.  They have staged an uprising, and the Romans responded with shock, awe, and destruction of the people and the temple.  Isaiah may have promised peace – but if it ever happened, it certainly didn’t last.  It’s just the same old story:  Here comes Mark with his word of hope – his promise of good news and peace, but, we’ve heard that tune before.

In fact, in what can seem almost like resignation, the author of Mark repeats the words from Isaiah that promise God’s coming, as if nothing had happened since Isaiah spoke them 500 years ago.  No, really, NOW, prepare the way.  God really, truly, is coming to set things right – to bring peace to earth. 

Same old, same old.

Now, fast forward 2000 years, and here we are in Advent – and as we do every year, we once again say “Something huge is about to happen.  When God takes on human form, peace comes to earth.” Then, Christmas comes and goes, and with the exception of a new trinket or two, there is nothing new in our lives – nothing new in our world.  How many times can we say God is coming, and peace is coming, and good news is coming, without looking like foolish idiots as the world continues in poverty, hunger, and wars?  When, exactly, is that great thing going to happen?

Well, when we look back at our scriptures, we realize Isaiah and the author of Mark aren’t just saying something great is about to happen that will set everything right again.  Both remind us that for this great thing to happen, preparation is necessary.  The people get to hear the words of comfort because God is going to lead them out of Babylon and give them a new, peace-filled kingdom; but then they are told in no uncertain terms:  “Prepare the way of Yahweh!”  Yahweh’s coming, but there is work to do to make it possible. 

Last week we said that when we skip advent and go right to Christmas, we miss the hope because Advent is in part about acknowledging that all is not well in this world, and God’s word is still desperately needed and hope is only real when this is acknowledged.  This week, we see that when we skip advent, we will miss out on peace because Advent is in part about the preparation that is necessary for peace to come.

And just as it is hard to acknowledge and feel that all is not well in the world, it is hard to prepare for peace – at least if we trust our scriptures.  It’s hard for three reasons:  First, preparation must take place in the wilderness.  Second, it involves moving heaven and earth.  And third, it’s deeply humbling.

In both Isaiah and Mark, the preparation happens in the wilderness.  And that’s no accident, of course.  It is in the wilderness that peace is needed.  We are called to the margins – to be in the midst of those places of chaos and violence – offering God’s word of Comfort and promise of peace.  If not physically, at least emotionally.  And when we go to the margins, head into the wilderness, and make such a claim, like John the Baptist with his hairy jacket and scary diet, we’ll likely look crazy at first.  But it’s necessary, because people need to believe in the possibility. 

More than that – when we look at John the Baptist – we see that he proclaims the possibility, but tells them it’s time to turn from the old ways and look for something new.  Repentance – it means “turn around.”  Look for a new way, because the old way isn’t working. 

So we’re out in the wilderness, proclaiming the possibility of peace, and calling people to turn from the old and look to the new, and that’s a hard place to be: and now, we have to move heaven and earth.  We have to prepare a highway for God – it’s up to us.  And Isaiah tells us what this entails:  We have to lift up the valleys and bring the mountains low.  We have to smooth out any rough land we find.  When we think about what this means in real life, it really does feel like moving heaven and earth. 

This is the leveling that brings justice to our world.  This leveling does away with disparities in wealth.  This leveling makes the vulnerable less vulnerable and offers equal protection for all.  This is the work of changing laws, changing hearts, changing systems.  And so it’s hard.

After taking the risk to be with those in wilderness, after working to move heaven and earth, our reward is to be deeply humbled. This work is long, often thankless, and you don’t always get to see the end product.  The people are like grass, Isaiah reminds us.  We wither and fade and die.  It can feel like all of our work is for naught.  It can feel like nothing ever changes, no matter how hard we work.  Very few of us get to be heroes in the work for peace – in fact what we usually learn is that the work for peace is antithetical to hero-making.  It is about realizing we need each other.  Sometimes it is about becoming as vulnerable as our brothers and sisters in solidarity and compassion.  This is not work for those who need their egos stroked.

Preparation is hard:  It happens in the wilderness, it is like moving heaven and earth, and it is humbling.  But the reward of that hard work – the reward of Advent…of preparing…. is peace.  True peace – like the peace described by the psalmist.  Peace that embraces – that kisses – justice.  The Psalm is different from our other two passages.  This isn’t just another writer telling people hard times are about to be over and God is coming to set things right.  The Psalm is envisioning a realm of complete peace – but it’s based on what God has already done in the past. 

The Psalmist is reminding people of God’s peace…what it looks like, what it feels like.  O Yahweh, you were favorable to your land; you did forgive the people.  And so, once again, God will speak peace to the world.  And this peace is one that takes for granted the preparations:  it is a peace full of justice.  A peace that comes when the rough ways have been made smooth.  When the wealth disparities have been made level.  When the highway for God has been laid down and people have been led from bondage to freedom.  And we know it’s possible, because we know about the Exodus.  We know about the promised land.  We know God is ready to bring peace when we prepare the way.

And this is a peace that is not just a cease-fire.  It is one where Israelis and Palestinians have come to terms with one another as human beings.  It is a peace won through nonviolent means.  It is a peace that is not kept by a military, but by consistent justice. 

Advent is a time of preparation:  a time to prepare for such a peace.  And it is possible – God is speaking this peace into the world.  God speaks in places where people protest nonviolently.  Where people seek the welfare of the most vulnerable.  Where people try to understand each other.  Where people live and work together despite differences.  Where people do the work to make the uneven ground level and the rough places smooth. 

What will we do to prepare the way for Yahweh’s peace?  What will each of us do to make way in our hearts, our lives, our communities, and our world for a peace that kisses justice?  Will we work to end the wealth disparity in Grinnell?  Will we work to support nonviolent protestors in countries like Egypt?  We will work to make national and international laws more just and protective of the vulnerable?  Prepare the way of Yahweh.  In the wilderness, make a highway for our God.  That is our advent work – and that is what leads to the peace of Christmas: that is what prepares the way for the birth of the Prince of Peace among us.  Something big really can happen:  If we prepare for it.  Amen.