Archive for January, 2009

I write you today with divided attention: as I sit writing this post at a small coffee shop in rural Virginia, I have one eye on the television and one eye on the computer screen.  In the frenzy of activity that has consumed us these past few weeks, it seems a momentus day has snuck up behind us; that is, the inauguration of Barack Obama, the first African American President of the United States. 

While in D.C. last week, we spent a day walking through the National  Mall and witnessing the preparations for this historic moment.  At that time, the bleachers stood empty, the stands unfilled, and the white house silent. As I witness now the glorious hope and energy that surounds those structures, I cannot help but swell with the emotion of the day.

To me it seems that today is a day of new beginnings, both corporately and personally. As we prepare for tomorrow’s step off the precipice of the unknown to fight for justice and peace across the world, our nation begins its own struggle for unity and peace in the coming months.

For all of you who join us in our work through prayer and support, we thank you.  Here am I Lord, send me…

- Sara

On December 25, 1864, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow sat at his desk and, in his grief, penned the now-famous poem, Christmas Bells. National and personal tragedy plagued him: a civil war raged on and, still mourning his wife’s sudden death three years prior, Longfellow had just received word that his son was seriously wounded in battle. Reflecting on Luke’s inspired words, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward men, Longfellow expressed his doubt that goodness and peace can exist in a world so riddled with violence and hate.

Longfellow’s words have resounded in my ears during the Christmas season as I have been reflecting upon the journey on which Jamie and I are about to embark. His struggle reflects the process to which I, and I suspect many others, are subject. The overwhelming realities of war, injustice, and personal tragedy transcend time; indeed just over the past few days the news has been filled with unceasing violence in Gaza, suicide bombings in Sri Lanka and Iraq, and a Santa Claus killer in Los Angeles. It is a natural question for even the most amateur of philosophers: Where is the good in all of this hate? I am tempted to allow the enormity of it all to overcome any shred of hope that peace and justice can in fact be realized.

Yet as the prophet Jeremiah in his lament praises the Lord for His justice and goodness (Jer 20:7-18), so Longfellow’s faith ultimately penetrates his despair: God is not dead, nor doth He sleep. The wrong shall fail, the right prevail… Christ’s entry into discord and his victory over the evil that would destroy us reminds me of a line from one of my favorite Christmas hymns: A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices. For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn…

It is in this spirit that we do not freeze in despair, heads bowed. As the apostle Paul so profoundly told the church in Corinth:

We have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.

In and through us the Prince of Peace is establishing His Kingdom and, one day, He will fully restore this broken and disappearing world. Therefore, knowing our work is not in vain, we continue to strive for that “wild and sweet” notion of “peace on earth, goodwill to men.” 

Sara

I heard the bells on Christmas Day,/  Their old, familiar carols play/ And wild and sweet the words repeat/ Of peace on earth, goodwill to men!

And thought how, as the day had come,/ The belfries of all Christendom/ Had rolled along, the unbroken song/ Of peace on earth, goodwill to men!

Till ringing, singing on its way,/ The world revolved from night to day,/ A voice, a chime, a chant sublime/ Of peace on earth, goodwill to men!

Then from each black, accursed mouth/ The cannon thundered in the South,/ And with the sound 
the carols drowned/ Of peace on earth, goodwill to men!

It was as if an earthquake rent/ The hearthstones of a continent,/ And made forlorn 
the households born/ Of peace on earth, goodwill to men!

And in despair I bowed my head;/ ”There is no peace on earth,” I said;/ ”For hate is strong, and mocks the song/ Of peace on earth, goodwill to men!”

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:/ ”God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;/ The Wrong shall fail, the Right prevail,/ With peace on earth, goodwill to men.”