Sermon Series: The Things that Make for Peace
incomplete sermon by Carrie Eikler
Isaiah 65:17-25
I hope you might agree with me, that one of the benefits of not having your regular pastors giving sermons every week, is the opportunity to hear new, or at least, different voices from the pulpit. While Torin and I were on parental leave, you had the chance to hear others bring their perspective and interpretations to the community. It was a blessing for me to finally be able to hear Reba Thurmond speak. She shared with me how much she loves coming to speak here, and I know many of us appreciate the message she often shares.
And as we conclude our series on “the things that make for peace,” I wanted to come back to something Reba shared, a frightful number that sends my mind reeling at the depths of human destruction. If you weren’t here, hold on to your hats. Reba shared the work of Will and Ariel Durant, from their 1968 book entitled Lessons of History. Now, I will take liberty with the dates since this was published 41 years ago. Out of the last 3,462 years of recorded history, only 268 of those them were years of no war. 268. And this was written at the beginning of the Viet Nam War, yet to see the First Gulf War, 9-11 and Afghanistan, the Second Gulf War, the military dictatorships of Central America in the 80s and 90s, Rwanda, Bosnia, etc. etc.
I wonder what those 268 years looked like. I notice they reference these years as years with “no war,” not years of “peace.” I imagine the number of years of peace would be much smaller. But then, it is probably because there are different understanding of what peace means. For some peace does simply mean “no war.” But for others, including the prophet Isaiah as we have read this morning, peace is something much more. And therefore more difficult. Visions of peace are not universal by any means. What may seem “peaceful” to one group of people may simply be repression, or indifference.
I’m reminded of what many of us probably learned in history or Western Civilization courses regarding the Pax Romana, or the “Peace of Rome”. (27BC-180AD) Many understand this to be a …
This idea is playfully recreated by the British comedy troupe, Monty Python, in their 1979 movie “The Life of Brian.” In this film, a child named Brian who was born on the same night as Jesus, just in the stable down the road from Jesus’ birthplace in Bethlehem. Brian, like Jesus and all Palestinians at the time, attempts to make sense of a life that is lived under Roman occupation. In one scene, we see a group of radical activists talking politics. One man Reg, is bemoaning the presence of their oppressors, while the rest of the group brings a different opinion.
Reg begins his diatribe on the Romans with “They’ve bled us…They’ve taken everything we had, and not just from us, but from our fathers, and our father’s fathers, and our father’s father’s fathers,” etc. “And what have [the Romans] ever given us in return?” To which one of the other faithful, innocently states, “the aqueduct?” and another says, “and the sanitation,” and yet another replies honestly, “and the roads.” Well, this builds and builds until Reg in his frustration explodes: “All right, but apart from the sanitation, the medicine, education, wine, public order, irrigation, roads, a fresh water system, and public health, what have the Romans ever done for us?” And one last voice squeaks, “Brought peace?”
Yes, all these wonderful things were brought by the Roman Empire. It would seem that with all these wonderful, progressive improvements, those living in the Empire should be happy and content with the benevolent power. But was it really peace? While this time of the Pax Romana did not see the bloodshed of other times in Rome’s history, Rome still had to use its military power in order to quell rebellions. While benefiting from what Rome brought to the people of Palestine, I wonder if those non-Romans—the Jews, the Galileans, the Egyptians, the—if they actually felt safe, and at peace.
After all, the events of our Christian story take place during this time of “relative peace.” As I read the gospel accounts of Jesus’ life and times, I don’t get a sense that it was one real peace. I don’t think killing prophets who spoke of God’s power and a new order is the sign of a stable and secure peace. I don’t think that a political and social order that creates and thrives on marginalizing people, impoverishing people, killing people, and degrading people is an order that is even in “relative peace.”
So yes, the roads, the sanitation, the education, irrigation are all signs of a powerful nation. But are they signs of a peaceful one? Is this a vision of peace that reflects what Isaiah speaks of? That Christ embodied?
And in a way, I think we Americans live under the same vision. Our standard of living is the highest in the world, we have roads, education, medicine, opportunities to exercise our freedoms of speech, worship, and of course, our freedom to buy buy buy! This is the stuff of the good life we may think. Even though we are waging two regional wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, Americans still believe that we have this good life, a life of peace here at home. But is that the case? Is this the new earth and new heavens that Isaiah speaks of? Do we live in true peace or just a vision that we want to believe?
Isaiah’s vision is not one of peace equals no war, or peace equals prosperity, or even peace equals opportunity. In our conditioning to see the world as a game of power, of manipulating other sides, of getting what each individual wants and deserves, Isaiah… "Pay close attention now: I'm creating new heavens and a new earth. All the earlier troubles, chaos, and pain are things of the past, to be forgotten. Look ahead with joy. Anticipate what I'm creating: I'll create Jerusalem as sheer joy, create my people as pure delight. I'll take joy in Jerusalem, take delight in my people: No more sounds of weeping in the city, no cries of anguish; No more babies dying in the cradle, or old people who don't enjoy a full lifetime; One-hundredth birthdays will be considered normal— anything less will seem like a cheat. They'll build houses and move in. They'll plant fields and eat what they grow. No more building a house that some outsider takes over, No more planting fields that some enemy confiscates, For my people will be as long-lived as trees, my chosen ones will have satisfaction in their work. They won't work and have nothing come of it, they won't have children snatched out from under them. For they themselves are plantings blessed by God, with their children and grandchildren likewise God-blessed. Before they call out, I'll answer. Before they've finished speaking, I'll have heard. Wolf and lamb will graze the same meadow, lion and ox eat straw from the same trough, but snakes—they'll get a diet of dirt! Neither animal nor human will hurt or kill anywhere on my Holy Mountain," says God.
How about this vision? Is it as delusional as saying the Pax Romana was truly a peaceful time, or that the American lifestyle reflects a just measure of abundance, therefore we can feel at peace? Is this just another ideological poet speaking flowery feel good words—some hippy talking about utopian ideals, the Shangri-la of good intentions? Some might say they are closer to hallucinations than visions!
Yet Isaiah is not a feel-good prophet. There is plenty of fiery speech and judgmental pronouncements in Isaiah’s words, in the other 65 chapters of his words.
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