Eleventh Day of Christmas: Prince of Peace

Then Simeon blessed them and said to Mary, his mother: “This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul too.” Luke 2:34-35

I have wanted to write this post for days, and felt overwhelmed by the task. Charles Williams once said that there were many people who would never take Christianity seriously until someone wrote a book apologizing for the Church’s sins. Williams said he lacked the skill to write that book; I do, too.

But in all the talk of Christmas and all its profound spiritual implications, the obvious must be dealt with. Jesus came to heal the world, and the world is still broken. The long-awaited Messiah came, but he did not bring world peace, at least not on his first appearance. The peace which Jesus offered was a more profound spiritual sort, a peace between the soul and God, a peace that can be held in the heart regardless of external conflicts. That peace is real, and transformative.

But as Christianity gained influence in the Empire, and grew in its institutional power, the Church absorbed more and more people, without necessarily passing to them the transformation of Christ. Once the church had power, the hunger for power became part of the Church, and some Christians, given the opportunity, sought coercive power against non-Christians.

In the fourth century there was a bishop in Milan named Ambrose, an eloquent preacher and politician. Ambrose wrote several letters to the Christian Emperor Theodosius I about a church controversy of his day. It seems the Bishop of Mesopotamia, in a city called Callinicum on the Euphrates river, had preached a sermon that incited the Christians in his town to riot. The rioters sacked the local synagogue, stealing its valuables, and then torched the place. They did the same to an Arian church.

Theodosius, defending the Jews whose synagogue was attacked, ordered that all the valuables be returned, and he fined the Bishop of Mesopotamia, ordering him to pay for the rebuilding of the synagogue.

Ambrose was outraged. The riot against the Jews was, he argued, a victory for God. He insisted the Emperor not punish those responsible for the riot. When the Emperor came to Ambrose’ church for Sunday worship, Ambrose publicly criticized him, and even refused to serve the Emperor communion. Finally, Theodosius relented. The rioters were not punished, the bishop was not fined, and the synagogue was rebuilt from the private funds of its congregants.

The supposed defense of God against his enemies has been used by mobs throughout the centuries to justify attacks against Jews, often with the approval of church leaders. The pogroms of Russia, when violent mobs would attack Jewish villages, often occured following Good Friday services. On Good Friday the Christians in worship were told that Jews everywhere were guilty of deicide. The Jews had killed God on Good Friday, and Good Friday was a day for mobs to get retribution.

No doubt my intelligent readers can already spot the flaw when a violent mob asserts that because Jesus of Nazareth is the omnipotent deity, he needs a murderous riot to defend him.

There is a seductive lie about this theology: that people can be Christians without changing their nature, that they can claim Christ as their own without obeying anything he said, that hatred and violence can count as merit with the Lord of love. The flaw deep in human nature - the insistence on having our own way against the will of others - is not transformed in service of Christ; rather, Christ becomes a figurehead turned to its service, an excuse for indulging hatred and violent impulses toward power.

Simeon said to Mary that Jesus would reveal the secret thoughts of many. In his earthly life this was evidenced in the reactions of his contemporaries, many of them the religious elite; but in church history, it has sadly and too often been those who claimed to worship Christ whose secret hatreds and rejections were revealed by their use of his name.

Christians still believe that Jesus will return someday, and bring final peace to the world. In the meantime, the Prince of Peace still calls us to be transformed by the good news of his birth, death and resurrection. This cannot be done by claiming Jesus as a team mascot or national flag, used to support our superiority. The call of the Gospel is to recognize the corruption that exists within our souls, hand it over to Jesus, and allow him to turn it into love and faith and hope. By faith we are united with him in his death and we die to our old selves; by faith we are united with him in his resurrection, and we rise to a new life.

May the Prince of Peace transform our hearts and make us lovers and seekers of peace, longing for the freedom of every human soul. May he make us examples of kindness and courtesy in a world gone wrong. May compassion shake and change us until he makes the world new.