Holding Up the Light of Peace

Rev. Seth Patterson

December 8, 2024, Second Sunday in Advent

Scripture: Luke 3:1–6

I have a little banner thing hanging in my office that was already there when I inherited the space. Back when I biked to work most days, I used it to cover my office window if I needed to do a quickchange. It says this:

If there is to be peace in the world,
There must be peace in the nations.

If there is to be peace in the nations,
There must be peace in the cities.

If there is to be peace in the cities,
There must be peace between neighbors.

If there is to be peace between neighbors,
There must be peace in the home.

If there is to be peace in the home,
There must be peace in the heart.

What a lovely poetic progression from the universal to the particular, from the external to the personal. It feels wise—as if what we do and how we operate matters.

At second glance, though, a big question arises: what the heck is peace!? Is having peace in the world the same thing as having peace in my heart? Does that word really explain both situations and everything in between? What exactly is peace?

Wise humans have attempted to answer this with words and concepts. Aristotle says that “We make war that we may live in peace.” This is reinforced by Augustine, Saint in the Catholic and Eastern Orthodox churches, who said “The purpose of all wars is peace.” Is that the peace we are looking for and is that the same thing as the peace in my heart? British writer George Orwell said “People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf.” Is that the same thing as having peace between neighbors?

You can also talk about peace as an action without the violent undercurrents. Rev. Dr Martin Luther King Jr famously said “True peace is not merely the absence of tension: it is the presence of justice.” Or as Jesus said in the Beatitudes: “Blessed are the peacemakers.”

Is peace an external action? A quote falsely attributed to the Buddha says, “Peace comes from within. Do not seek it without.”

How complex this little poem has become! Is the word peace unhelpful because it can be applied to so many different circumstances.

So, let’s depart from language, from our minds, from concepts and justifications and intellectual constructions. Let’s tilt the world a bit and let music guide us.

Piano begins Peace Piece, mantra/ostinato only

This is Bill Evans’s Peace Piece. The first time I ever heard it, sitting on a bed with my wife Nora in our Chicago apartment, it made me cry. No music had ever done that before.

What if this is a way to understand peace? Without words or explanation or justifications, just simple and beautiful and whole. Peace repeating over and over. A mantra. Perhaps this is a way that God communicates with us, through the unworded language of music. Could this be a way to understand God? Maybe peace is merely an understanding, an acceptance of the constancy of God’s presence—up, down and then reconnected. Maybe Bill Evans was one of the people able to reveal the nature of peace in a way that our feeble language can never quite reach?

Bass joins piano, mantra/ostinato only
After a few bars, piano drops out, leaving bass alone

There is no one way for this peace to be played, or be heard, or be felt. It may not be the sound of peace to your ears like it is to mine. But the question remains: could peace merely be God’s spirit breathing in and out, up and down, constantly in beautiful repetition? Not something to be made or something only found within, but always everywhere all the time, inside and out. Vibrating under our feet, swirling around us, in our very bones—so constant and so regular that we eventually lose track of it?

Bass slowly finishes. No music.

I invite you to take a deep breath with me as we open our ears, hearts and imaginations to the words of our spiritual ancestors on this second Sunday of Advent. This is Luke 3:1–6.

In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler of Abilene, during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness. He went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah, “The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord; make his paths straight. Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth, and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.'”

Piano returns to Peace Piece, mantra with harmonious right hand. Continue playing under words as it turns discordant.

God is the constant. Always present. And then living things like people add on to that constancy. Coming and going, living and dying, loving and hurting. Never replacing the ceaseless repetition of God’s presence and love, but adding onto it, playing along.

Add bass, riffing on theme, adding another layer of music. It can grow slightly more discordant and chaotic until the crescendo.
(It can slowly get wilder but not louder—Seth needs to be able to be heard over it. Play some jazz, friends!)

In this scripture the context is set for us to await the birth of the baby Jesus. Different people are named who had incredible power and control over the lives of others. Tiberius Caesar was the Roman emperor. He succeeded his stepfather Augustus who was the first Roman emperor. He was the singular leader of 2 million square miles of empire spanning from the British Isles to Egypt. He likely described his leadership, with all its violence and oppression, as being for the goal of peace in the empire.

Pontius Pilate was the fifth governor of the Roman province of Judaea appointed by Emperor Tiberius. He was the local and occupying Roman authority. His leadership was marked by crackdowns after the Jewish authorities would push back against his anti-Jewish actions.

Herod was king of Judea, a local Jewish ruler allowed to maintain rule by the ultimate Roman authorities. His reign was marked by massive building projects constructed on the backs of the poverty-stricken populace.

Annas and Caiaphas were the high priests of the temple in Jerusalem. They were very powerful cultural and religious leaders. They were connected to—and also distinct from—the Roman and local power structures.

And then there is John the Baptist.

Drums are added in, adding a third layer of music.

John was completely outside of the formal power structure and created a following counter to the Roman and Judean power structures. He proclaimed a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. He was the fertile soil for the ministry of Jesus. He was a reminder of the power of God, not the power of political and religious structures.

Each of these people had their own story, just as we each have ours. They each had their own power and influence, just like we have ours. Each of them added a layer on top of the mantra of God, sometimes harmonious, sometimes discordant—but the mantra can still be heard. The foundational voice of God is still repeating, over and over, up and down, connecting and flowing, ceaselessly.

Music reaches some sort of crescendo. Drums and bass drop out. Piano—mantra only.

Every one of us adds on to the music of a foundational God. Sometimes we join in the same key and sometimes we create dissonance. There is so much happening overtop this mantra of God that it can seem to be lost, but it is always there if we seek it. If we quiet down. If we listen deeply. If we are curious. Peace may be always flowing around us if we are just bold enough to find it.

Piano returns right hand, discordant. Bass and drum come back in.

And sometimes when the other sounds start to hide the peace again, it may be our responsibility to do more than just recognize it. We may need to turn our practice of listening into action and amplify that peace, bring it back into focus. There are times when we need to add our voices and sing along!

Voice is added in, inviting the congregation to sing along. (This will repeat several times without Seth speaking over it.)

We must be the hands, feet and VOICES of God in our world. We can amplify the peace that is always waiting for us!

Voices are removed, drums are removed, bass is removed, piano only (both hands).

Your voices are necessary. Your actions are needed. You have power and even more so together. Do not be afraid to use your power to reach into the depths of God and bring hope, peace, joy and love into the world. We can be the reminders of the constant voice of God repeating, over and over, up and down, connecting and flowing, ceaselessly.

Piano mantra/ostinato only

And sometimes, when we really listen, when we can peel away life’s many layers, when we focus, we may be able to hear the unexpected.

Piano add in harmonious right hand

Like a baby being born. A small cry coming from an unexpected place. New life being brought into the world, not in privilege, but in poverty. Not in power but in a stable. Not in stability but on the margins.

May we listen deeply for a new birth in our midst, for the voice crying out in the wilderness in harmony with the peace of God repeating, over and over, up and down, connecting and flowing, ceaselessly.

Piano mantra/ostinato only

May it be so.

Piano ends

May we make it so.

9 a.m. service

11 a.m. service

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