Today we lit a candle for peace, and it has me wondering, what’s happened to all the songs about peace? As a child of the 70’s I grew up in the echo of the Civil Rights movement, and I remember those anthems like Jim Croce’s Peace Train, the Byrd’s Turn, Turn, Turn, and John Lennon’s Imagine.
I don’t think the present generation of artists has given up on anthems of peace, but I’m not sure it sells as well as it used to. It may be that I just don’t listen to enough new music, but it seems to me that I hear more songs about the lack of peace than the presence of it.
Regardless of the awareness of my playlist of songs of peace, we do live in a world where conflict sells headlines and clickbait and any kind of ad space that can be sold, so it’s good that we have a different type of messaging coming to us from scripture today!
As we approach that message, I want you to take a moment and imagine a city street. You can close your eyes if it helps, but I want you to imagine a city street – not necessarily a busy street, although it could be if the conditions were right. Now I want you to think about the kind of city street that Zechariah talks about in God’s promised return, but not an ancient street. Stick with a modern street – maybe even the one outside; maybe in a neighborhood nearby.
Imagine a street where children can laugh and play – not necessarily in the middle of the street, but somewhere close by. Imagine older men and women supporting themselves with walkers or canes as they find a place to sit and visit or play chess on the street.
Perhaps you can tell me later, but I do wonder what kind of street you envisioned. What shades of skin and hair did you see? Was it a street in Lafayette? Do such streets exist here? Surely they do. In fact, the picnic tables on our corner are intended to be that kind of space. Are there also some streets where you would say not to try those activities on, or at least be mindful of the time of day? Sure there are.
I would bet the same was true of Jerusalem when it was being re-established as a vassal state under Persian authority. It obviously was not a safe place or a place that seemed to have the Lord’s favor just yet, because these statements were about the expectation of what could be.
I say “could” be rather than “would” because the message of Zechariah is not just a one-sided promise from God. It is, in the first few chapters, a reminder of how their ancestors had gotten them into Babylon in the first place. Then there is a series of strange visions that Zechariah interprets to say that God has appointed a new Priest and a new King and if they will be faithful, and the people along with them, then God will indeed dwell in their midst and everything will be great!
That probably sounds like the standard operating procedure for an Old Testament Prophet, and it kind of is, but there is more to it than just following orders. God wants them to live in a way that demonstrates justice and righteousness because that is what sets the stage for peace. Here’s why that mattered to the original audience, or at least why we think it mattered.
We know that the Prophet Jeremiah (25:11, 29:10) told the people that God would lead them into exile for 70 years and God’s temple would be rebuilt and God’s kingdom on earth would be restored. We also know from the book of Ezra 5:1-2 and from the events referenced in Zechariah 1 that it had been about 70 years and God’s people were asking, “How long do we grieve? How long does this have to go on? Could God please come down and fix all this, because we’ve been slaves in a foreign land all our stuff is kind of messed up now.”
Zechariah, being the good prophet that he was, essentially flipped the question on them and told them that God would be in their midst when they could stop repeating the mistakes of the past and deal with one another, and the stranger in their midst, fairly. More than that, their city would be cleansed from sin by their adherence to the law so that it would become a place where justice and righteousness was just a way of life.
I don’t know about you, but I can’t help but hear all of that and think that it sounds like a pretty good plan. The problem is that we silly humans just aren’t capable of living like that. Even though we might have some streets that are safe and beautiful, and even though we have the rule of law to help keep them that way, there is a desperation in us that keeps us from living that way all the time.
Some may call it a desire to be in control, some may say it has more to do with feeling powerless in the face of forces that shape our destiny. In the church, we tend to call it the sin of idolatry. Whether we have actual idols or we just forget what it means to say that there is a God who provides for us, the sin is in the expectation that we can manage things by ourselves.
Then again, some of that desperation exists because of generational poverty and the legacy of racial inequality that we see in lending and sentencing, and policing. Some see these struggles and say that they are a sign of moral failing in those who are poor, yet in scripture, we see that the presence of poverty is the greater sin.
I think that is why Jesus made the distinction between the peace that he gives us and the peace of the world. For his disciples, the peace of the world meant the pax Romana – the peace of the empire. Rome brought many things that might have seemed like improvements, but the peace they offered came with a price. The state held authority in a way that we can’t fully understand, and the cross was a way to say that they had authority over their souls as well as their bodies for “cursed is anyone who hangs from a tree” (Deuteronomy 21:23).
Thanks be to God that we don’t live under the oppression of a foreign power or under the threat of violence for noncompliance, for the most part, but there is still a certain peace that comes from the law of the land that does not quite square with the peace that Jesus offers us.
The peace that Jesus offers us is not a peace that disappears in the face of conflict. The peace that Jesus offers us is not a peace that requires uniformity. The peace that Jesus offers us is a peace that unites us in our isolation. It comforts us in the presence of disaster, and it binds us into communities of faith that shine light into spaces of darkness and despair.
That may sound like an idealistic view, but I’ve also seen it in action. I’ve seen it from you. This past week I’ve been struggling with this idea of our role in proclaiming peace and justice, even though I believe this congregation does that all the time in a variety of ways through ministries of hospitality and care, it’s still a good question to ask, “What are we responsible for, Lord, in the bringing about of your kin-dom?”
While I think that is a perpetual question that we have to ask ourselves over and over, I took some time meditating on the vision of the kin-dom of God and the Holy City where God dwells, and I made a collage that is painted over with acrylic. You can see it online or in the Narthex. The images came almost completely from the Presbyterian Outlook, Presbyterians Today, and the Presbyterian Giving Catalog.
I pulled a few from another magazine or two as well, but the majority were from images of God’s people responding to disaster, standing together after the shooting in a Black Church in Charlottesville, providing resources for those who struggle, and generally moving more and more toward the light of Christ.
The thing is, as bad as things may get or as good as they may be, we are still anchored in the peace of God. We are still here for one another. In fact, I’m going to give the last word as we move toward the table of Christ in celebration of our holy union, to a young artist who still believes in peace.
I’m not going to try to sing it – and there’s a lot more to this song than what I’m going to share – but listen to the inspired poetry of these words by Alicia Keys:
We are here
We are here for all of us
That's why we are here
Let's talk about our part
My heart touch your heart
Let's talk about, let's talk about living
Had enough of dying,
Let's do more giving
Do more forgiving,
Our souls were brought together so that we could love each other
May it be so with me, and with you, and with them – whoever they may be – and to God be the glory, now and always. Amen.
I don’t think the present generation of artists has given up on anthems of peace, but I’m not sure it sells as well as it used to. It may be that I just don’t listen to enough new music, but it seems to me that I hear more songs about the lack of peace than the presence of it.
Regardless of the awareness of my playlist of songs of peace, we do live in a world where conflict sells headlines and clickbait and any kind of ad space that can be sold, so it’s good that we have a different type of messaging coming to us from scripture today!
As we approach that message, I want you to take a moment and imagine a city street. You can close your eyes if it helps, but I want you to imagine a city street – not necessarily a busy street, although it could be if the conditions were right. Now I want you to think about the kind of city street that Zechariah talks about in God’s promised return, but not an ancient street. Stick with a modern street – maybe even the one outside; maybe in a neighborhood nearby.
Imagine a street where children can laugh and play – not necessarily in the middle of the street, but somewhere close by. Imagine older men and women supporting themselves with walkers or canes as they find a place to sit and visit or play chess on the street.
Perhaps you can tell me later, but I do wonder what kind of street you envisioned. What shades of skin and hair did you see? Was it a street in Lafayette? Do such streets exist here? Surely they do. In fact, the picnic tables on our corner are intended to be that kind of space. Are there also some streets where you would say not to try those activities on, or at least be mindful of the time of day? Sure there are.
I would bet the same was true of Jerusalem when it was being re-established as a vassal state under Persian authority. It obviously was not a safe place or a place that seemed to have the Lord’s favor just yet, because these statements were about the expectation of what could be.
I say “could” be rather than “would” because the message of Zechariah is not just a one-sided promise from God. It is, in the first few chapters, a reminder of how their ancestors had gotten them into Babylon in the first place. Then there is a series of strange visions that Zechariah interprets to say that God has appointed a new Priest and a new King and if they will be faithful, and the people along with them, then God will indeed dwell in their midst and everything will be great!
That probably sounds like the standard operating procedure for an Old Testament Prophet, and it kind of is, but there is more to it than just following orders. God wants them to live in a way that demonstrates justice and righteousness because that is what sets the stage for peace. Here’s why that mattered to the original audience, or at least why we think it mattered.
We know that the Prophet Jeremiah (25:11, 29:10) told the people that God would lead them into exile for 70 years and God’s temple would be rebuilt and God’s kingdom on earth would be restored. We also know from the book of Ezra 5:1-2 and from the events referenced in Zechariah 1 that it had been about 70 years and God’s people were asking, “How long do we grieve? How long does this have to go on? Could God please come down and fix all this, because we’ve been slaves in a foreign land all our stuff is kind of messed up now.”
Zechariah, being the good prophet that he was, essentially flipped the question on them and told them that God would be in their midst when they could stop repeating the mistakes of the past and deal with one another, and the stranger in their midst, fairly. More than that, their city would be cleansed from sin by their adherence to the law so that it would become a place where justice and righteousness was just a way of life.
I don’t know about you, but I can’t help but hear all of that and think that it sounds like a pretty good plan. The problem is that we silly humans just aren’t capable of living like that. Even though we might have some streets that are safe and beautiful, and even though we have the rule of law to help keep them that way, there is a desperation in us that keeps us from living that way all the time.
Some may call it a desire to be in control, some may say it has more to do with feeling powerless in the face of forces that shape our destiny. In the church, we tend to call it the sin of idolatry. Whether we have actual idols or we just forget what it means to say that there is a God who provides for us, the sin is in the expectation that we can manage things by ourselves.
Then again, some of that desperation exists because of generational poverty and the legacy of racial inequality that we see in lending and sentencing, and policing. Some see these struggles and say that they are a sign of moral failing in those who are poor, yet in scripture, we see that the presence of poverty is the greater sin.
I think that is why Jesus made the distinction between the peace that he gives us and the peace of the world. For his disciples, the peace of the world meant the pax Romana – the peace of the empire. Rome brought many things that might have seemed like improvements, but the peace they offered came with a price. The state held authority in a way that we can’t fully understand, and the cross was a way to say that they had authority over their souls as well as their bodies for “cursed is anyone who hangs from a tree” (Deuteronomy 21:23).
Thanks be to God that we don’t live under the oppression of a foreign power or under the threat of violence for noncompliance, for the most part, but there is still a certain peace that comes from the law of the land that does not quite square with the peace that Jesus offers us.
The peace that Jesus offers us is not a peace that disappears in the face of conflict. The peace that Jesus offers us is not a peace that requires uniformity. The peace that Jesus offers us is a peace that unites us in our isolation. It comforts us in the presence of disaster, and it binds us into communities of faith that shine light into spaces of darkness and despair.
That may sound like an idealistic view, but I’ve also seen it in action. I’ve seen it from you. This past week I’ve been struggling with this idea of our role in proclaiming peace and justice, even though I believe this congregation does that all the time in a variety of ways through ministries of hospitality and care, it’s still a good question to ask, “What are we responsible for, Lord, in the bringing about of your kin-dom?”
While I think that is a perpetual question that we have to ask ourselves over and over, I took some time meditating on the vision of the kin-dom of God and the Holy City where God dwells, and I made a collage that is painted over with acrylic. You can see it online or in the Narthex. The images came almost completely from the Presbyterian Outlook, Presbyterians Today, and the Presbyterian Giving Catalog.
I pulled a few from another magazine or two as well, but the majority were from images of God’s people responding to disaster, standing together after the shooting in a Black Church in Charlottesville, providing resources for those who struggle, and generally moving more and more toward the light of Christ.
The thing is, as bad as things may get or as good as they may be, we are still anchored in the peace of God. We are still here for one another. In fact, I’m going to give the last word as we move toward the table of Christ in celebration of our holy union, to a young artist who still believes in peace.
I’m not going to try to sing it – and there’s a lot more to this song than what I’m going to share – but listen to the inspired poetry of these words by Alicia Keys:
We are here
We are here for all of us
That's why we are here
Let's talk about our part
My heart touch your heart
Let's talk about, let's talk about living
Had enough of dying,
Let's do more giving
Do more forgiving,
Our souls were brought together so that we could love each other
May it be so with me, and with you, and with them – whoever they may be – and to God be the glory, now and always. Amen.
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