Think About These Things - An Advent Sermon on Peace

Finally, Beloved: Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.  -- Philippians 4:8

This is a portion of what I preached yesterday, so I'm throwing it out there for the rest of you. (You can soon hear the full sermon here: http://www.wbccucc.blogspot.com/)

This is the Week of Peace in our preparations for Christmas, and I must admit that I approach it saddened and disappointed. I'm having a really tough time with our president's decision to commit 30-40,000 more troops to Afghanistan -- a country with a hopelessly corrupt, unpopular government, and complicated tribal splits and alliances. I recognize the danger of a particular breed of radical extremist Islam spreading to Pakistan -- a country in possession of nuclear weapons -- but my heart is heavy as I think of all those young men and women on their way to mayhem, blood and destruction.

Paul, in a similar time of military occupation, unrest and chaos, had simple advice for his fledgling faith community in Philippi: gravitate toward the good and just. Think about these things. This was the scheduled reading for next Sunday, but it also came to mind for me on the morning after President Obama's speech, when I tuned into an NPR call-in program to hear Robert Segal express slight chagrin that the first "expert" to phone in about the situation in Afghanistan and Pakistan was not a general, diplomat or foreign service worker, but none other than Deepak Chopra. Chopra cut him short and stated (and I am paraphrasing here):

"It makes perfect sense that I am talking to you. Consider India, and the state it was in several decades ago. We were not far different than Afghanistan and Pakistan, with warring factions and extreme tribal conflicts, but money was poured into education, and look where we are today: a stable, strong world leader... a successful nation. The same needs to happen in Pakistan and Afghanistan. Invest in educating the population, give them hope and the tools to better their minds and their lives and nihilistic extremism will evaporate."

It reminds me of one recent military effort in Iraq, where soldiers solicited American high schools to donate used soccer balls to fight the insurgency. My alma mater, Bloomfield High School, was one that sent soccer balls to Iraq, to be handed out by American forces to kids who desperately needed to do what kids everywhere most need to do: play together.

Playground diplomacy focuses on our humanity, on so much about us that is true, honorable, just, pure and pleasing. Let's think about these things.

Consider these two men, Edward Said and Daniel Borenboim. Said was a Columbia University English professor. Borenboim is a world-renowned conductor. The two met a decade ago and found that their seemingly conflicting cultures (Arab and Israeli) found common ground when discussing the youth trapped and wasted by the endless Palestinian-Israeli conflict. They germinated an idea: an orchestral camp featuring the finest professional musicians teaching Arab and Israeli youth, who would then perform together as the West-Eastern Divan Orchestra. The program grew, and a few years back, when they finally scheduled a performance in Ramallah, Palestine despite the deep safety and security concerns, the appearance of so many Arab and Israeli youth appearing on stage to make beautiful music together resulted in a ten minute standing ovation before the first note was even played! One small increment. True, honorable, just, pure, pleasing, commendable and excellent.

Or how about this man: Professor Joshua Silver, a physicist who had been working with spectroscopic analysis of highly charged ions at Oxford University. Professor Silver invented a way to manipulate the curvature of lenses as part of his work. Then he got to thinking: 60% of the population in the developed world require corrective lenses to see clearly. It would stand to reason that about the same ratio would exist in the developing world. There is an optometrist for every 10,000 people in London, but that ratio is an impossible 1 for every 8,000,000 in sub-Saharan Africa -- meaning that daily living, education, socialization and development are terribly limited in such areas by a seemingly intractable vision problem (figurative and literal).So Professor Silver develops a new set of Adaptive Spectacles. An individual pumps clear silicon oil into a set of lenses, curving them until refraction matches their individual corrective need. Voila! Vision corrected without the need to fly a cadre of optometrists into the African bush. 50,000 pairs of these inexpensive glasses have been fitted thus far.

Now people in the developing world have access to better vision, and a better future. One small increment. True, honorable, just, pure, pleasing, commendable, excellent and worthy of praise.

Peace doesn't come at the end of a gun or adjacent to an Improvised Explosive Device. It comes after the dust settles and some soldier tosses a kid a Hershey Bar and a soccer ball. It comes when mortal enemies turn their focus to making immortal music. It comes when a tribal elder can look clearly into the eyes of rival chieftains and beloved grandchildren, thanks to some obscure scientist two continents away. Think about these things.

Consider African merry-go-rounds for children that double as pumps to draw water from deep wells. Think about cardboard solar ovens that allow Sudanese women to remain in the safety of their encampments rather than having to seek firewood to cook family meals. Two more small increments.

We cease to behave humanly when we engage in combat. War is always the result of profound error, and it betrays the limits of our courage and creativity as a species. War is a bulldozed path toward an arbitrary goal. Peace is a meandering walk, winding its way around an issue to find root conflicts to resolve, common strengths to build on, possiblities to explore. War insists on MIGHT while peace plays with might.

At some point in every war, the leaders from each side come together and cobble some manner of peace over tea and biscuits. The worst offenders are isolated and made to answer for their crimes. Amends are made to those damaged "collaterally." Alliances are celebrated. Cities and civilizations are rebuilt, and fields are replanted. Leaders praise their dead and promise that this is the last time, lest their precious spilled blood be defiled.

Could it be that we are inviting the wrong people to lead us to the table? Or maybe it is a simple scheduling error:  isolating offenders, making amends, celebrating alliances and rebuilding civilizations at the end of the process when these best human tendencies should be scheduled for the very start. Shouldn't we all think about these things?