Advent 2: Peace & Donald Trump

Peace on earth and mercy mild,
God and sinners reconciled.

I was supposed to begin an Advent spiritual practice on November 29th. But due to a terrible and intense bout of stomach flu that made its way through our family of six like a slow motion wave of despondency and destruction over a four day period, I did not begin my practice. Because I did not fully enter back into the land of the living until Thursday, December 3rd and I am a little OCD in following the proper order of certain things like prayer practices, I found myself struggling to pick up the spiritual practice that I had ready to do.

I have, however, been thinking quite a bit about what the Advent themes of Hope, Peace, Joy and Love mean to me. Particularly in these months that have known the Syrian refugee crisis and acts of terror and these weeks filled with hate, fear and despair. Where can there be hope when people are willing to bomb one another? How can there be peace when millions are displaced from their homes in war zones? Where is joy when racism, fear-filled rhetoric and hatred are allowed to flourish? What is love when Donald Trump is permitted to spew Islamophobic garbage to a cheering crowd?

In the second week of Advent we are to contemplate peace. In this month of waiting expectantly for the Christ Child's birth, we are called to remember that the people of ancient times lived under a false peace--Pax Romana. Caesar Augustus created a so-called peace throughout the Roman Empire. It was a peace born of fear and made at the end of a sword, dominating and subjugating all those in the lower classes.


In our world we do not need to struggle to remember a lack of peace that has existed in the world's history because this very day we live amongst an absence of peace--as the news and media remind us on an minute-by-minute basis. We do not need to imagine the desperate desire for an end to violence. For killing to stop. Because this, too, is our reality.

I cannot help but wonder how we, the small and insignificant individuals of the world, can end the violence. End the killing. So much of the time I feel helpless and ineffective. The Reverend Murray Speer reminded us this past Sunday that the peace the prophet Isaiah spoke about was between wild and domestic animals. The domestic stock which needed protecting from the wild, fearful beasts from afar would no longer need to be afraid. They could be safe and vulnerable with one another because one would not harm the other, will not use its power and strength to overwhelm those who have less power and strength.

The Christmas carol, Hark the Herald Angels Sing tells us that peace will come when God and sinner reconcile. The word sin is a challenge for United Church folks. The concept of being sinful is a difficult one for those of us who do not want to be too quick to condemn another in the name of God. But consider that sin is not simply an action; it can be a state of being. I was taught that one definition of sin is when you are broken with God. When your actions or statements are not aligned with your beliefs and understanding of faith and God. This carol reminds us that until that until we are whole and healthy, the world cannot be whole and healthy. Until we can reconcile ourselves with God, the world cannot be at peace.

Which brings me around to The Donald. And how, my small and insignificant self can make a step towards peace in our world. How each of us can work together to make peace. Because I would say, in the midst of the Islamophobic hate that seems to be spreading like the stomach flu across the continent and world, I am not right with God--WE are not right with God--if we do not say "ENOUGH" to people like Donald Trump. We are broken with God unless we are prepared to say, "STOP" to the haters, the racists, the Islamophobic people of our world. We can only be reconciled with God when we stand up together and declare that we will not allow another holocaust in our world. Genocide will not happen again. EVER.

We want peace. We are desperate for peace. And so we say, with one strong voice: