Fourth Sunday in Advent (2022)
We really throw words around without thinking about what they really mean. These words, so very common to the Advent season, are words we commonly use but I wonder if we really stop to think about what they mean and how we connect to them. I've already mentally wrestled with the first three this year - hope, joy, and love. Thanks to the opportunity to view a wonderful Advent series from Village Green Church in London, Ontario, and the pastor, Jon Korkidakis, I've been able to ponder his message and reflect on it. Today, I continue this.
If I were to ask people about the meaning of peace, it likely would include something like 'the absence of war or conflict' or 'a feeling of calm'. The thing is ... this can be a fleeting feeling. Bring on a calamity, a lost job or an argument, or a health crisis, and this feeling of peace vanishes instantly. Because of an external event, the internal feeling is connected to it and we either experience peace because our life is good or the peace vanishes because it becomes threatened.
The thing is - like so many things in the spiritual realm of our God-Life relationship, there's something more going on here. Something beyond our moment-to-moment experiences.
This last year I went through a season of death. Over 6 weeks, I attended 4 funerals, had my 59th birthday, and went through Thanksgiving weekend. Quite the emotional roller-coaster! I felt like I had the snot kicked out of me by the time November rolled around. But I realized something else had happened, too.
Two of the funerals were for family members - my mother's brother and his wife. One was expected (she had Alzheimer's) and the other was not. I've heard that when one spouse passes, it can often be that the other is not far behind. Such was the case this September-October. My aunt passed, and within a week of laying her to rest, my uncle passed. It had been a long time since I had seen my brother, and longer being with my extended family. It was an experience. On the one hand, it was incredibly painful, a reminder of just how fractured and broken things are. But on the other, there were signs of beauty and something bigger than the moment. The one cut me and hurt beyond words but the others were a salve, a balm that I so very needed.
Over both experiences, as well as going through the other memorials for the other two unconnected funerals, I spent a lot of time pondering this thing, this end of life. And, reflecting on where I am on this mortal journey. And here's where it connects to the theme of the day:
Biblical peace is very different than human peace. Like all of these other words, it's an internal thing but not. Remember I mentioned in a previous writing about how the prophets had been silent for 400 years? And then ... what are the first words to come at the start of this? Peace. Do not fear, I bring tidings of great joy ... and on earth, peace to those who please Him. We can try to get peace ourselves (any quick search on the internet can give all sorts of suggestions), but the minute one of those big calamities hit the feeling leaves. The suggestions are empty, hollow. Maybe for a time, but then they're gone. So, what do we do then? And yet, in the time of Christ's birth, he brought Peace. The world was full of turmoil, of political unrest, of oppression and control, and yet, a Peace He brought to us. How can this be?
Here's the point: this peace does not come from external situations, but from internal convictions. It comes from knowing how the story ends. It comes from believing there is something bigger than this moment. It doesn't remove the agony, but it provides an anchor, a support and encouragement that "this, too, shall pass."
When I drove home from the 2nd funeral, I realized there was a calm within me. Something I don't think I've ever felt before. All my pondering brought me to a place where I reflected on my end. How will my story end? And the point I came to was this: I think I have a path for the time from now to then. I know that I do not want to be a burden on anyone, I want no one to have to figure out my remains. I will make the funeral arrangements for myself. And I will create a 'goodbye and thank you' video to be sent to those I care about when the time comes. No one will need to have a funeral for me; there will be no one to host it. And I'm ok with that. Remember I mentioned the broken relationship? At the time of my end, no one will be responsible for me but me. I know when my time comes, I will quietly "shuffle off this mortal coil" and slip away. I hope I will be remembered well; I hope I can leave something for others to remember me by. And my body - I won't need it anymore. But I have decided that I would like to be with my people. My family. For all the struggles with them, they are still my people.
And, what's more important, when the time comes, I know how my story will end. In the physical realm and in the spiritual one as well. And you know what? I feel a Peace this season, unlike any other before. My life is no more resolved, I am no more happier than I was a year ago, and there are still struggles and pains. But I am at peace knowing I have a direction to head. Knowing that the end of the story is pictured. There is much to do between now and then, but I have a smile on my face. Calm in my spirit. A certainty of conviction. This, too, shall pass. And Peace is with me.
Emmanuel. God has moved into the neighbourhood.
Comments