I went to a Lutheran grade school for a few years and I'm not sure if I memorized this verse near to Christmas or if all the talk of "heavenly peace" during Christmas juxtaposed the two on top of each other but for whatever reason, the little girl in me has always associated this verse with Christmas. My young brain, added two and two together, decided that Christmas was the day the prince of peace was born and so it was the day that peace, that passed all understanding, entered into the world.
Jesus was born into an Israel that was as heartbreaking as it is today. We read in Matthew that after Herod hears of Jesus's birth, he kills all the baby boys under age 2 and the young family flees to Egypt for safety. It is eerily familiar, revolting and heartbreaking. Even when after the Prince of Peace was born, the world was not peaceful.
A few months ago, I saw some social media quip that if God is wholly good, all powerful and all knowing -- then why do humans suffer? Either God is not all powerful, or not all knowing, or wholly good. It is a difficult conundrum and yet, I wanted to respond with a 4th way -- what if God enters into our suffering? What if God offers us peace and wholeness in the midst of of strife and brokenness? It is such a hard concept to get my mind around, but ever so rarely, I grasp at it. There is a mystery in the peace the passes understanding. Our minds cannot understand how peace could be born in a manger in the middle of a bloody and broken world. Where is the peace in that. And yet, peace, like a blanket swallows us whole. In moments of tragedy, uncertainty, change and upheaval, there can be a peace that falls like snow silencing our inner voices and allowing us to trust into the suffering. I had a pastor once say that baptism was safe until we go way out into the water and let ourselves be taken under. In faith, there is access to peace that passes understanding and God like a blanket wraps around us and walks with us in all of our humanness.
Ok... ok... that's heavy and also... I'm busy with wrapping gifts. I could use some peace that passes understanding in all this holiday stress.
I got you.
This whole reflection started because I'm hand-making a few gifts this year. I wanted to be more intentional about my advent and so I made space for it. I made space to be present with people and to be present in all the tasks that come up in the passing of this season -- the teacher gifts, the white elephant at youth group, the classroom parties, gifts for nephews -- it goes on and on. I was surprised as stress creeped in and I wanted to blame in on lack of time. But as I reflected on it, I don't think the churning in my stomach was from lack of time.
I think it was from vulnerability.
When I rush and don't spend too much effort thinking about it, I can gloss over the vulnerability of gift giving. I can pass off rejection of a gift as "well, I didn't put much time into it." or "this is stupid capitalism" But if I'm going to be mindful. Then I don't have that excuse. My gifts don't have to be mindless capitalism if I choose for them not to be. But, I don't get to hide from "is it good enough?" "are they going to like it?" At the very core, gift giving is an exercise in vulnerability. It is an act of knowing someone and being known. And, as we prepare gifts for the people in our lives, it can become evident how little we know them. And kids... they are so honest. They don't mask it at all. If you don't know them and you don't get them something they like, they will tell you -- until their parents shut them up and teach them how to mask it properly like the rest of us.
But then, receiving gifts is a vulnerability. It is to see the reflection of how we are known by the people in our life. What they think of when they think of us. Sometimes that doesn't reflect who we are and we feel un-known. Isolated by gifts that do not speak to us. And some part of me, is disappointed when a gift doesn't fit. When I'm not known well enough to get a gift that sparks some joy in me.
This rub reveals so much about us and I think its a hidden reason why the holidays are hard even when there isn't any real "reason" why they "should" be. All our dark side and light side competing -- our selfishness and our generosity. Our hope and our disappointment. Our vulnerability and our shame. As I've allowed myself space to slow down this year and process all this in myself, I find myself back at the beginning of this post -- peace that passes understanding.
Peace that passes understanding isn't reserved for just the "heavy" stuff. The tragedies, major changes and upheaval that comes from living in a broken world. But God is also with us in our little moments of vulnerability. God enters into our vulnerability in the same way God enters into our suffering and in this we can open ourselves up to peace that passes understanding. God a blanket that wraps around us in all our humanness -- silencing our inner dialogs and lowering our blood pressure.
May peace that passes understand you fall like snow around you and silence all the competiting dialogs, may it wrap you like a warm blanket and may you know that God is with you in your vulnerability, in your suffering and in your humanness.
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