Preparing for Peace
DATE: December 6, 2009
SCRIPTURE: Luke 3:1-6
This past Wednesday our President stood before 4,000 cadets at West Point, and delivered an important policy address concerning the ongoing war in Afghanistan. It had taken the President three months to weigh all the options. He met with all manner of advisors and experts, and solicited their opinions and advice. He looked at a variety of possible strategies, ranging from complete and immediate withdrawal to committing tens of thousands of new troops to the effort. It took a great deal of time and preparation to come up with the new plan for our involvement in that distant and mountainous country. Even the speech itself, involved tremendous preparation—we are told he was still making final edits just two hours before it was delivered. In the end, all the preparations resulted in a thirty-three minute speech at the Academy, and a greatly stepped up war effort in Afghanistan: thirty thousand more troops will be sent to the front. A timeline was set, and responsibilities for international partners and the Afghan government were laid out. "I do not make this decision lightly," said the President. And clearly he did not.
Now, I am not here to attempt to assess the wisdom of President Obama's new strategy for the war in Afghanistan. I don't know if sending thirty thousand more men and women will turn the tide. I don't know what impact a delineated deadline will have on the mindset of the insurgents. I am not a military analyst, nor am I a political strategist. I am a pastor. And while I am a self-admitted pacifist, I have no question in my mind that good people of faith can have very, very different opinions about how we should take on this particular challenge. And like most all Americans I am grateful to the young men and women in uniform who literally put their lives on the line every day in service to our country. They are, as President Obama said on Tuesday night, people of "courage, grit and perserverance."
That said, though, I do offer an observation. Some will call it naïve, I'm sure. Others will say it is idealistic and far too simplistic. But I can't help but wonder how much different things might be if we put as much effort into preparing for peace as we do preparing for war? The President said in his speech, "our security . . . does not come solely from the strength of our arms." And he is quite right. But how much have we really invested in the other sources of security—things like education, relief and development efforts, advancing medical care, feeding the hungry, housing the homeless and displaced persons around the world? It is these things, I would argue, that offer a chance at lasting security and ultimately will help prepare the world for peace.
Our scripture reading this morning features that old rascal John the Baptist. His strong words and inflammatory rhetoric often cause us to squirm in our pews. We wonder, sometimes, why we even have to read these passages in this Advent season. Why can't we stick to the calm and serene? Yet through the centuries the church has included such passages in the cycle of readings for Advent, because John provides a powerful reminder that we are called to use this short four-week season as a time of preparation. As he stands on the banks of the River Jordan, his very presence proclaims his message: "Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight!" Get ready, people, get ready for the Coming One, the Prince of Peace.
But what does that mean? What does it mean to prepare for peace? Is it simply a matter of being quiet? Is it all about keeping things calm, not rocking the boat? Or is it something far more involving, far more significant?
Reading about John the Baptist makes it pretty clear. Preparing the way of the Lord is all about straightening out twisted roads. It's all about leveling the playing field. "Every valley shall be filled," he says quoting Isaiah, "and every mountain and hill made low, and the crooked shall be made straight . . . ." (3:5) It is, in the end, about justice.
There is a bumper sticker you may have seen—it says quite simply, "No Justice. No Peace." You can't have one without the other. Until the hungry are fed, until the naked are clothed, until the jobless are employed, until the sick have the chance to be made well, until the homeless have roofs over their heads, there can be no true peace. As World War II hero and five star general Dwight D. Eisenhower once said, "So long as want, frustration and a sense of injustice prevail among significant sections of the earth, no other section can be wholly released from fear." (Seeds of Peace, 111) Jim Melchiore says it well: "If John the Baptist lived today, I don't think he'd have a car—he'd be too quirky and nonconformist for that. But I think he'd like that bumper sticker, because his role in the story of the Messiah was to disturb any complaceny masquerading as peace." (Reflections of Messiah, 62)
Peace, you see, at least in the biblical sense of the word, is not simply the absence of war—it is the presence of all that is good and right and just. The Hebrew word shalom, usually translated as peace, means a state of well being for all. The Greek word used for peace in the New Testament, eirene, refers to wholeness, harmony, completeness in life relationships. Peace and justice go hand-in-hand. Our task in this and every Advent season, indeed arguably all through the year, is to prepare for peace—and that means working for justice.
This past Tuesday, the same day the President gave his address at West Point, Viking Press released Greg Mortenson's new book, Stones into Schools.
Mortenson is the co-founder and Executive Director of the Central Asia Institute. In 1992 his sister Christa died of an epileptic seizure. One year later, in tribute to her memory, Mortenson decided to climb the second highest mountain in the world, K-2, located in northern Pakistan. Following his climb, as he was resting from his effort he came across a group of children, writing with sticks in the dirt. They longed to learn, but they had no school, and no teachers. So Mortenson promised that he would come back and build them a school. It was a rather bold promise, but fortunately, Mortenson's dream appealed to Jean Hoerni, a wealthy philanthropist, who decided to fund the effort. And so the school was built in Korphe, a remote northern village in Pakistan.
Mortenson realized the importance of providing an education to the children of Pakistan and Afghanistan, but he also realized that for such efforts to be sustainable, they would need to be "initiated, implemented and managed by local communities." (www.ikat.org) So he immersed himself first in Pakistani, and then later in Afghan culture. He came to understand the people, the values and the governing styles of some of the most remote regions of the world. And, in time, the Central Asia Institute, working with its partners in Asia, built 130 schools, providing, to date, education for over 51,000 students. Mortenson has become one of the most trusted Westerners in the region.
Not without cost. He has been kidnapped by the Taliban, caught in a firefight between feuding warlords in Afghanistan, named in fatwahs by Muslim mullahs, investigated by the CIA and threatened after 9/11 because he was helping to educate Muslim children.
But Mortenson is making a real difference. He is leveling mountains and raising up valleys. One stone at a time, one life at a time, he is helping to bring hope to the lives on thousands and thousands of children, especially girls, so long ignored in that region of the world. He is working for justice, and in doing so, he is preparing for peace. As the half title of his new book puts it, he is "Promoting Peace with Books, not Bombs."
As one official recently said, "By helping [the children of Pakistan and Afghanistan] learn and grow, [Greg] is shaping the very future of a region and giving hope to an entire generation." That official is Admiral Mike Mullen, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.
You may never go to Afghanistan. You may not be able to do things like Greg Mortenson does in that mountainous land. But you too can help prepare for peace by working for justice. You can help feed the hungry by donating to our food pantry collections or serving a meal at Gillespie or working on the Christmas Feast. You can provide funds for organizations like Mortensons, or the many agencies we support which are working here and abroad to help level the playing field. You can write to our representatives in Congress and let them know how you'd like to see your tax dollars spent. You can learn about a foreign culture and become our resident expert on Afghanistan or Pakistan or Rwanda. You can make friends with a Muslim co-worker or neighbor. You can work for justice, and in doing so, you too can help prepare for peace.
Will a build-up of troops in Afghanistan move us towards peace? I don't know. Will a deadline for withdrawal enhance or detract from the effort? I don't know that either. But I do know this. In this and every Advent we are called to prepare for peace. We are called to level the mountains of inequity, lift up valleys of hope and work for the justice that ultimately makes a way for shalom, eirene, salaam—peace.
Amen.
John H. Danner