It is almost December. In the coming rush of buy this, find that, do this, prepare that, you already own something substantial, something you do not have to find or buy. But – be careful – it is something people will try to take from you. The snatchers lurk and lunge; the thieves will grab for what is yours.
In this time of hope and reflection, what you have, and what they will try to steal, is something necessary and vital – a God-given gift – your own peace.
We each own our peace. Don’t sell it lightly. Don’t give it away easily. Don’t cave in to the whirl and frenzy that someone, somewhere, and soon, is going to stir up about Christmas.
Do you recall that cringe-sour taste from last year? Do you remember the rancor, fight, posturing, and whipped up energy uselessly discharged into rancor, fight, and more posturing? It was the battle over the Merry Words: Christmas, Holiday, Happy, Blessed.
People garnered media attention with claims that there was a correct and respectful way to speak of holiday and peace and joy in December. And then they urged us to fuss about it all month.
They went so far as to push boycotts of stores that hung “Happy Holiday” signs. They wanted good Christians to be angry that their holiest of holidays was not merchandised properly – with aisle signs referring to Jesus instead of snowmen.
This year, don’t let anyone whip up your peace into pointless anger. The month is too short to fight about Christmas.
Last week, while I was shopping for soy sauce and chives, I ended up in the aisle of candy canes, snow globes, Santa hats, light bulbs. I flashed back to early December last year and remembered all that spittle flying. I found myself gripping the grocery cart handle like it was the hand rail on a roller coaster cart – I imagined the cart tipping, felt myself balanced at the top of the hill, pointed straight down, dreading the headlong fall into some new drown of words and ill will.
December is four days away.
I don’t know what fight will be this time. Oddly, it is rarely about poverty or hunger or medicine or war. There are powerful speakers and writers who get mileage and money out of trying to divide us and trying to make us join their narrow definitions of what is right in any given situation, real or manufactured. They pick fights that play big, loudly, emotionally – and then throw outrage and rhetoric.
Joining a fight manufactured out of thin air will only take your peace from you. Don’t give it away to join a battle that does no service to those who need you most. Our world hurts daily, but your church is safe; your faith is safe. Your God is safe.
These are weeks for gentleness and breath.
These are weeks for spirit.
These are weeks for good will.
If we must fight, let’s choose worthy fights, real fights, necessary fights. Save your steam for the people who need you most. Remind them we are good, generous, gentle people. Each one of us.
These are the weeks for building hope where there is little and for small gestures of meaning and spirit – not large gestures of meaninglessness and sputter.
This year, hold your peace.
Samuel Butler, in his notebooks, wrote of a gaggle of children praying at their father’s knee. One young child misspoke the prayer and said “Forgive us our Christmasses, as we forgive those who Christmas against us.”
December is a time to shine light, to assume good, to refuse to infect the surrounding air with silly rancor and puff-fake fights over puff-fake principals.
Hold your peace. Share joy, as hard and unnatural as that can be in the climate of post-election, post-9/11, post-unity. It is still possible, and still our hard calling.
Push yourself toward slowness, and prayer, and spirit. Touch someone’s hand.
And, if you think your neighbor or his brother has chirstmassed against you, forgive him. Surely, he didn’t mean it. Surely he’s just like you, and wants a bit of peace at the cold end of this long year. Surely these are the weeks of light and beginnings.
