More than any other theme in Advent, I think I have the hardest time connecting Peace with the Advent narrative.
Peace: a state of tranquility, quiet, security, or order.
But there was no peace in Israel, in the small places of Nazareth or Bethlehem. The only order was one enforced by Rome, and it was far from tranquil. Even the quiet hillsides scattered with shepherds and sheep was devoid of safety and security.
Yet into this picture, Jesus, the Prince of Peace, was born.
I was thinking about different images we equate with peace when I ran across Jan Richardson’s Advent reflection and blessing:
“I always live with the awareness that I am traveling without a map, that I am making the path as I go, with all the wonders and challenges this brings. Yet Advent calls me to remember that even as I move across what seems like uncharted territory, there is a way that lies beneath the way I am going. Others have traveled here ahead of me, providing pieces I can use. The pieces come through words, images, prayers, stories; fragments that help me to find my way and perhaps to smooth the path a bit for someone else. So on this Advent day, I am tucking this blessing into your hand, for wherever you are traveling.
BLESSING THE WAY
With every step
you take,
this blessing rises up
to meet you.
It has been waiting
long ages for you.
Look close
and you can see
the layers of it,
how it has been fashioned
by those who walked
this road before you,
how it has been created
of nothing but
their determination
and their dreaming,
how it has taken
its form
from an ancient hope
that drew them forward
and made a way for them
when no way could be
seen.
Look closer
and you will see
this blessing
is not finished,
that you are part
of the path
it is preparing,
that you are how
this blessing means
to be a voice
within the wilderness
and a welcome
for the way.”
—Jan Richardson
from Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons
“…There is a way that lies beneath the way I am going. Others have traveled here ahead of me.” There is a sense of peace in that knowledge, that others have tread this path too.
Richardson speaks of a road, but I wonder if we channel our early Sunday School selves and recollect that the song goes: “I’ve got peace like a river.”
The course of a river is often calm, evoking peace and pleasantness. But I think the “peace-ness” of a river also has to do with the way it flows. Each drop of water is part of the whole, fully connected and secure in its identity. Though a splash may escape the banks from its impact with a rock or fallen log, it is rare for even an ounce of water to sway from its intended course. The path the water flows is ordered and chosen, it is precise. And it is peaceful.
The people of God living their first century days under the thumb of Rome could never be a depiction of peace. Yet, there is a peace and assurance in re-telling the story we know so many saints have traveled before.
In our waiting and despair, the peace of Advent rises up to meet us. A “welcome for the way.”
Christ has come. And Christ will come again.
