Advent|Peace

For many who read this week’s blog, you will know that I have been away from UCiM and have just returned, as I have been journeying apart from the congregation during an intentional time of Sabbath. Some of the reasons for Sabbath, from a Christian perspective, are to explore one’s relationship with God and (hopefully) deepen that connexion with the Holy, to seek rejuvenation, to recharge and – in my case – to explore topics and practices, which I would not have be able to while actively involved in congregational life. One of the ways that I had intended to structure this time was through the beginning Doctoral studies, and that is indeed how Sabbath began …

The funny thing about life is, as John Lennon once said, “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.” As the Fall academic year unfolded, I began to wonder whether this programme was the best place for me to accomplish that to which I have felt called. In another time, as another person, I admit that I would have found myself embraced by an energy that has often crippled me. Call it anger or frustration: I, however, have learned it is called rage.

This visceral emotion has been a long companion of mine and, as I have journeyed on, I have begun to learn from it rather than be swept away in its wake … as my intention for Doctoral work began to unravel I found myself digging deep. Not to blame, nor seek some sense of justice or retribution, but, instead I sought peace. I knew I needed to discover a sense of tranquility or serenity if I were to be able to choose ‘what next,’ as opposed to being controlled by the emotion that has – often in my past – controlled me. Rather than devolve into habitual responses, I knew intuitively I needed to transform or harness that emotion into placid clarity.

And – as often happens with insight or an ‘aha,’ – clarity it hit me like a wave. I had not failed, nor did I have to fight a fight that was, ultimately, counterproductive. I am – as we all are – endeavouring to discern the path upon which we might tread: to walk in a manner that most authentically honours the child of God that you and I are. The work to which I have been called for more years than I have worn a ‘Christian’ hat remains the path upon which I still walk. The clarity was not that I had made a mistake, but that – in that moment of Grace – there was a more holistic way to live out, in a life-giving way, this work that I believe is part of my own Call. Without intentionally seeking, meditating and praying to be peace, however, no matter how my outward actions might be experienced, I would know the intent of them would be grounded in a place that dishonours my potential.

As Christians, we walk into the second week of Advent and often we discuss the idea of peace as our actions and choices that lead to a perceived lessening of war or where there is an absence of violence. Often there is a sense of (self-) righteousness in some quarters within our fold.

Until we awaken to the paradox that peace and conflict actually complement one another, in fact are intimately bound to one another, we will ironically seek to eliminate one without realising its dependence upon the other.