The Prince of Peace in a Pile of Rubble

At Christ’s birth, angels proclaimed peace on earth. The entrance antiphon of the Christmas vigil proclaims: “Today true peace has come down to us from heaven.”

But the world doesn’t feel very peaceful. I’ve mostly stayed away from the news in recent weeks. I try to stay afloat of the broader things going on in the world so that I’m informed, but I’m also trying not to get bogged down by all the details. Because the news can be depressing. There is so much war and cruelty. I feel I have an obligation to be aware, to counteract and combat the evil in the world. But I also know that sometimes wallowing in the awfulness does nothing more than eliciting despair.

All that to say, I know the situation in the Middle East awful and complex. I know there have been a lot of moving pieces in weeks since the Oct. 7 attacks. I was cautiously optimistic when there was a temporary ceasefire and some of the hostages were released. But I’ve mostly been cynical that there is swift, diplomatic outcome. There are deep, deep hostilities at play, and deep financial players backing both sides. That little strip of land seems to have never known peace.

People are arguing about the right side—who has the right to the land, who is more justified to fight for existence, who is the more oppressed. An ocean away, we have the privilege of having those intellectual debates: What makes violence justifiable defense? What is terrorism? What is Semitism? What makes someone’s claim to land legal or valid or moral? What is hate speech or free speech or incitement? What constitutes genocide? If it falls short of genocide, is mass murder acceptable? What is our obligation in another’s conflict?

These are all important questions that arise in war. But for the people losing their lives or their loved ones or their homes, congressional hearings and philosophical debates and chatroom warriors are meaningless. The world is black and white. Perish or survive. Death or life. War or peace.

I don’t envy those in the difficult diplomatic roles of negotiations. But for the rest of us, I don’t see why the decision seems so difficult. Pick peace.

What does that look like? Specifically, I don’t know. But I’ll support solutions where peace is the main objective.

When Assyria waged war through the same land 2,700 years ago, Isaiah predicted that a “prince of peace” would come. There are respites of peaceful times. Then war returns. For centuries, people have yearned for unity, accord, and tranquility, for restoration and calm.

Christ comes to earth to bring the ultimate peace, not a ceasefire among tribes but a unity and restoration between us and God. He bestows a peace beyond our earthly understanding, a peace the world can never give. He is the promise of eternal peace. All will be well.

It can be hard to maintain that hope for peace when watching the news. It was probably hard to maintain that hope for peace when born in a barn in an occupied state. There’s never an easy time to hope for peace. But the alternative is sink into despair at the violence, sin, hatred, and anger of the present moment. Sink or swim. Death or life. War or peace.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God.