4th Sunday of Advent: Living Together in Peace

4^th Sunday of Advent 2012

“Living Together in Peace” 

Micah 5:2-5a; Luke 1:39-56

PREACHER: Pastor Carrie Smith

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.  

 Hear again the words of the prophet Micah:

And he shall stand and feed his flock in the strength of the Lord, in the majesty of the name of the Lord his God. And they shall live secure, for now he shall be great to the ends of the earth; and he shall be the one of peace.

One Sunday morning about ten years ago, just as my family was heading home after worship at Central Lutheran Church in downtown Minneapolis, my cell phone rang. We had just gotten to the parking lot and were still chatting about lunch options with Robert’s parents, Cindy and Ed, who were visiting from Oklahoma, when that familiar ringtone interrupted the conversation. I knew instantly what it meant—a baby was about to be born.

At that time, my pre-pastoral profession was working as a doula, otherwise known as a labor and childbirth assistant. In this role, I had the great privilege of accompanying pregnant women throughout the entire labor and birth process. However, it should be noted that babies do not come on a predictable schedule. Sometimes they come after you’ve had a good night’s sleep and have all your bags packed. Sometimes they come in the middle of the night. And sometimes…they come two weeks earlier than expected. And so it happened that I would not be enjoying Sunday lunch with my family.

Aside from missing lunch, the problem of the moment was that we had brought two vehicles to church that morning: our family-sized sedan with room for the two car seats and the diaper bag and everything else a family of four might need; and my father-in-law Ed’s pickup. Since not everyone was interested in joining me at the hospital for the joys of childbirth, I was given the keys to the truck.

Ed seemed a bit skeptical about entrusting his beloved Ford F-150 to me, and he was sure to give me a quick lesson in how to drive and park it. And then he said, with much seriousness: “In case there’s any trouble, you’ve got a pistol under the driver’s seat. Do you know how to use it?”

His words took my breath away. The idea that I would need a handgun to attend the birth of a baby had never crossed my mind. I was driving off to the hospital to be with a couple for the most sacred event of their lives! Furthermore, they had enlisted me, a doula, to join them, to help ensure the experience was healthy and peaceful. I knew for a fact that guns had no place in their birth plan. 

But it was no use arguing with Ed. After a few more instructions, I drove off in my father-in-law’s truck, armed and ready to welcome a new life into the world.

Robert gave me permission to tell this story about his dad, who died not long after this took place. We both agreed, however, that in the telling, it’s important to acknowledge that Ed was acting out of a sense of duty to protect his family. He wanted to be sure I was safe. He wanted to be sure his whole family lived secure. 

But this story begs to be told today, as we prepare for the birth of another baby—Jesus, the Prince of Peace—and all around us the world is debating whether we should be armed for the occasion.

In the interest of security, some would like us to be armed for every occasion.

The NRA has called for “armed police officers in every school in this nation” before the kids return to class in January. 

Others have suggested we arm the teachers, or at least the principals.

Here in Illinois, a federal appeals court has just overturned the last state law banning citizens from carrying guns concealed on their bodies. 

And in Michigan, the governor has vetoed a law that would allow concealed weapons even in schools, daycare centers, and churches—but only after intense public pressure in the days following the Sandy Hook massacre.

Please understand: my job as pastor is to preach the Gospel, not politics, and I confess that I don’t know any easy policy answers to the problem of our culture of violence. But as a preacher, I most certainly have a responsibility to preach the truth. Micah chapter 3, which comes just before our reading for today, gives a harsh warning to prophets who would stand and preach “peace” to those who are hungry, when they themselves have enough to eat. And the prophet Jeremiah bemoans: “From prophet to priest, everyone deals falsely. They have treated the wound of my people carelessly, saying, ‘Peace, peace’, when there is no peace.” (Jeremiah 8:11, 6:14)

And so I cannot stand here, at the end of an Advent season in which our worship and prayer focus has been “Imagine: Peace”, and preach to you “peace” when there is no peace. I cannot, after the deaths of 20 children and 6 teachers, one mother and one disturbed young man, ignore the fact that we have a problem in our country. We are afraid. We have lots of guns. But we have no peace.  

In this morning’s lesson from Micah chapter 5, we heard that “the one of peace” shall come out of Bethlehem, and with his arrival Jerusalem “shall live secure.” Our reading starts with verse 2, but if we step back just one more verse, we learn more about the situation of those who were hearing those prophetic words:

“Now you are walled around with a wall; siege is laid against us; with a rod they strike the ruler of Israel upon the cheek.” (Micah 5:1)

This is a description of Jerusalem’s situation around 800 B.C.E, but when I hear these words, I think of how we, today, are walled around with a wall. We live behind a wall of weapons, nearly 90 guns for every 100 American citizens. And yet we are not secure, no matter how many guns we acquire, for we are under siege by our own fear. 

The Israelites had no reason to think tomorrow would be a better day, or that the future would bring anything new. Our predicament seems just as hopeless. Just one week after Sandy Hook, with the funerals nearly done and the news crews withdrawing their attention from Connecticut and on to the next top story, we have every reason to think tomorrow won’t be any better, either. More guns will be purchased. More shootings will happen. More children will die! And we will still be afraid.

But then, into our hopelessness, into our fear, and into our sinful idolatry of guns and might and power over others, comes a tiny baby. He is the one we’ve been waiting for. He’s the ruler the prophet Micah prophesied would come out of Bethlehem: a new kind of king, bringing a new kind of peace. His name is Jesus, and he comes carrying a cross, not a conceal carry permit.  

The Prince of Peace, the one the world’s been waiting for, has finally come! But instead of bringing his army with him, we find him in an animal’s feeding trough. Instead of being encircled by guns and guards, we find him surrounded by a ragtag bunch of farm animals, field workers, and foreigners. By coming near to us in Jesus, a defenseless human baby, God thwarts the plans of those who would attempt to bring peace and security through gunpowder and assault rifles and weapons of mass destruction. God has done a new thing! He “has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.” (Luke 1:49-53) The day God showed up in a manger, the world was given a new path to peace and security.

No longer do we find our security behind a wall, or in our ever-growing stash of weapons; nor do we find it in power over others. Now, we can beat our “swords into plowshares and our spears into pruning hooks” (Micah 4:3) Micah chapter 4 even says we can “study war no more” because we’re no longer seeking our own defense. Jesus Christ, the Prince of Peace, who was born of a virgin and laid in a manger; who ultimately died on a cross only to be raised the third day, brings the peace that passes all understanding: Peace between us and the One who created us. 

My fellow Christians, we know this to be true, but we so easily forget. If you listen carefully, though, it’s there—even in our Christmas carols: "Peace on earth, and mercy mild. God and sinners reconciled." (Hark the Herald Angels sing) 

The Christian witness, especially at Christmas, is one the world desperately needs to hear: Guns do not bring peace. Arming ourselves will never make us live secure. The only chance at peace this world has is to live into the gift of peace given through Jesus Christ. Only when we fully receive the gift of being at peace with God will we be at peace with ourselves—and with each other.

My father-in-law, in his attempts to bring security and peace to his family, instead gave birth to more fear. No matter how many guns he bought, he was always afraid.  And the presence of so many weapons only made his family afraid, too. On the day he died, the last phone call we made before starting on the road to Oklahoma was to Robert’s mom. We had to ask her to remove the guns before we brought our toddlers into the house. “Move them all, Mom,” said Robert. “Yes, the one in the coffee table, and the one behind the recliner, and the one in the nightstand. And all the rest.” 

Today, poised as we are on this last day of Advent, with Christmas just hours away, we rejoice that Mary is in labor. God is about to do something new, and we have been invited to the birth! We have an open invitation to the stable tomorrow, to kneel at the manger where the newborn Jesus is laid. Are we going to welcome this new life with a gun under our seat? Will we approach the manger armed, or with open arms, ready to receive the gift of peace God has sent to the world? 

Come now, O Prince of Peace. In your mercy, forgive us, and show us your Way to live together in peace. Amen.