Changing
the Way We Pray for Peace
All of us,
at one time or another, have felt heart-sick about the war in the
Middle East. Apart from all the politics, we know that war is
a failure of peace. No matter how evil the enemy, or how critically
necessary it might be to remove him, war is simply tragic and results
in the death of thousands of innocent people, and scars thousands
more - if not all of us in some way.
Most
of the time, if we turn to God and beg for peace, it is difficult
to know how to pray it. It can seem "futile." Can God
really change the hearts of enough people to give peace a chance?
A
Part
of our Advent Longing
Part
of our
Advent longing will be to grow in our desire for peace - a hunger and
thirst
for it. For at midnight Liturgy on Christmas eve, we will hear
the
angels say to the shepherds:
"Do
not be afraid;
for behold,
I
proclaim to
you good news of great joy
that will
be
for all the people."
Let's let a desire
for the Good News of Christmas grow in our hearts each day now.
Let's feel the pain of "hostility" and fear and anxiety of all those
who are in the middle of the terror of war - civilians, soldiers, and
all of us. And as we feel this tremendous longing and hope, let's
turn to God and ask for peace in our own hearts. In these precious
days of preparation, we can all be peace-makers at home, with our friends
and relatives, in our parishes and faith communities and where we work.
As we make our own efforts at peace around us, let's turn to two of
the Advent guides that scripture gives us.
Two
Women
of Faith
Whether
we
are a man or a woman, a little child, a teen, an adult, or aging, we
can
look to Elizabeth and Mary in our longing for peace - in our hearts and
in the world.
This
photo of an Afghani mother can help us bring together our longing for
peace
and our turning to Elizabeth in our prayer. Elizabeth suffered
doubly.
She was growing old and people judged her. People would have
assumed
that her "curse" of being child-less was a punishment from God.
She
deserved this suffering, because she was a sinner, they would have
thought.
When Elizabeth could not bear a child, she bore her suffering with
faith.
She had trust that God loved her and that, if it was God's desire, her
marriage with Zachary would be fruitful with a child. In the
meantime,
her life and her marriage were fruitful with hope. Oh, how she
must
have prayed for her husband's faith and consolation. She knew his
pain. He would have no son to continue his priestly work.
When
God's message came to Zachary, inspiring him to hope that he would have
a son, he was unable to speak, to say the child's name, because part of
him still could not believe God could be that faithful. When he
saw
his child, Zachary's mouth could finally proclaim, what Elizabeth had
longed
for him to know: "His name is John." In Hebrew, "John"
means,
"God is a gracious giver." Could they ever imagine the child
their
trust in God gave birth to? How could they have dreamed of how
John
would prepare the way for a peace the world could not give?
What
is that
place in my life that is like a barren desert? What seems dry and
incapable of growth and life? Where am I guilty of the critical
eye
that presumes to judge the soul of another? Where can I grow in
trust
of God's desires for me - to place my life, as it is now, in God's
hands?
How can my heart and my mouth proclaim that God is faithfully
gracious?
How can I place my trust in - dream of - the barely imaginable?
This
photo of an Iraqi mother can help us turn to Mary in our Advent longing
for peace. Mary was innocent in every way. Yet, her very
fidelity
to God would cost her the understanding of others. They could
never
understand her pregnancy. How could she tell them that "the holy
Spirit of God has overshadowed me"? But, Joseph knew. And,
together, they formed a community of incredible faith in God's
way.
They would be at God's service - suffering, as all servants do.
Mary's
trust in God was so deep that she gave birth to the Prince of
Peace.
The intimacy between this mother and her child was so profound, that
the
lance that pierced his heart on the cross, would pass through her heart
first This humble mother trusted that nothing would be impossible
with God. Mary hurried to visit Elizabeth, to help and support
her,
but also to be strengthened herself with Elizabeth's faith. Oh, how we
need each other to be in service of Jesus' mission!
In
what places
in my life do I ask, "How can this be"? There are impossible barriers
to
peace. How do I say that I just can't see how it is possible to
believe
in the power of God - here in my heart, in my home, among my family and
friends, at work, among these peoples? How am I being invited to
respond, "May it be done to me according to your word"? How can I
be faithful to being in God's service - and not be so worried about
what
people think of me? And in my growing desire to be more intimate
with Jesus in my everyday life, in what concrete ways, with what
particular
persons, can I let the pattern of his life transform my life? How
can I hurry to support others, while finding the community of faith I
need
to be faithful servant in Jesus' own mission?
Let
there
be Peace on Earth!
The
angels
announce to the shepherds:
"Glory
to God
in the highest
and on
earth
peace to those on whom his favor rests."
Let us
all continue
to pray for peace in our world. Let's pray that hearts might be
transformed,
to find the path of peace together. But, as we pray, let's let
peace
have a chance in our own hearts, in our own world, close at home.
The peace-making begins with God's work in us. This is truly
Advent
longing. Let
there be peace on earth,
and
let
it begin with me! |