BEING HUMAN

Day 2, 2 December 2024, the 1013th day of the full-scale war.

How long, O Lord? The sirens wail through another sleepless night, and our hearts cry out with the psalmist. In the rubble of our cities and at the graves of the people we loved, we wrestle with questions that pierce the soul. How do we await the Prince of Peace while war tears at the fabric of a nation? How do we hold on to hope when every day brings fresh wounds?

“For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given; and the government will be upon His shoulder. And His name will be called Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the increase of His government and peace there will be no end, upon the throne of David and over His kingdom, to order it and establish it with judgment and justice from that time forward, even forever. The zeal of the Lord of hosts will perform this” (Isaiah 9:6–7, NKJV).

Isaiah’s prophecy echoes across millennia into our own land, and we grapple with a paradox inside it. The same Jesus who is named Prince of Peace also declared: “Do not think that I came to bring peace on earth. I did not come to bring peace but a sword” (Matthew 10:34, NKJV). What does that mean for us here today? Perhaps it speaks to the disruption that a true peace brings, a peace that confronts injustice, challenges false narratives, and demands transformation.

That transformation begins inside our own Christian community, and we face uncomfortable truths there. Some embrace a Christian nationalism that justifies violence in Christ’s name and in the name of depersonalized traditional values. Others argue for a complete and radical pacifism that dismisses the legitimate defense of the innocent, so that the life of an aggressor comes to be valued above the life of a raped child. Between those extremes we have to find a path that honors both our love of country and our primary allegiance to the kingdom of Christ.

Peacemaking in our context requires the courage to confront these divisions in the Church. Real peace work means creating spaces where grief and anger and disagreement can be spoken aloud without breaking our unity in Christ. The challenge of our time is to resist both a passive acquiescence to evil and the seduction of hatred. We honor the sacrifice of our defenders while learning to refuse the dehumanization of our enemies. We uphold justice while guarding against the poison of vengeance. We love our nation while remembering that our ultimate citizenship lies in the kingdom of God.

In the tension between the already and the not yet of Christ’s peace, we act. As People of the Bridge we shelter the displaced, comfort the grieving, support our defenders, and pray for our enemies. We challenge every narrative that glorifies violence while standing firmly against aggression, and we keep our witness for peace while acknowledging how complicated it is to live inside a war.

Our lament rises with the smoke from our cities: how long must we wait for Your peace, O Lord? And even inside that question we cleave to hope. The Prince of Peace comes as the Lion who brings justice and not only as a gentle lamb. His peace is transformative rather than passive, revolutionary rather than superficial.

Prince of Peace, in this Advent season we lay our laments before You, our grief and our anger and our confusion. Grant us wisdom to navigate the tension between resistance and reconciliation. Unite Your Church in truth and love. Transform our hearts until they reflect Your peace, even in the middle of this war. Give us the courage to confront injustice while keeping our witness of hope. We await Your coming, when swords will finally become plowshares and justice will flow like a river. Until then, make us instruments of Your disruptive and transforming peace. We pray in the name of Jesus Christ, our Prince of Peace. Amen.