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| A Christmas Truce |
On Christmas Eve 1914 the temperature plummeted well below
freezing, and a light snow began to fall on Flanders Field, turning the
mud-filled trenches all along the Western Front to ice. What had been deplorable conditions for soldiers
on both sides of the line was now untenable.
Five long months of fighting led them here, to crater-filled no man’s
land and the very gates of Hell. To date,
casualties on all sides were staggering. During the first five months of the war,
Germany lost a million men, France lost 300,000 during a two-week offensive in
August and at Ypres, the 160,000 men comprising the British Expeditionary Force
was completely annihilated.[1]
The front line stretched from the southern Swiss border along a 450 route north
to Belgium. It is here, amid the poison
gas, artillery bombardment, machine gun nests and snipers a Stille Nacht dawned. This war torn
stretch of sod was the last place anyone would expect to find peace on earth
and goodwill toward men. But peace is irrepressible;
it breaks out in the most unlikely of places. What happened that night and the
following day is nothing short of God with us.
As dusk fell that Christmas Eve, lights appeared in the
German trenches. Small, makeshift tannenbaum
adorned with candles lit up the war torn earth.
Then, stranger still, sounds of singing replaced the shrill of bursting
shells and machine gun fire. The voice
of opera singer turned soldier Walter Kirchhoff could be heard coming from the
German line, delivering a stunning rendition to “Es ist ein’ Ros’ entsprungen”
(Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming).[2]
When dawn came the next morning, the isolated incidents of fraternization all
along the Western Front turned into wholesale camaraderie. Soldiers moved
freely into no man’s land, and in some cases actually entered enemy trenches to
celebrate the season by exchanging gifts, singing carols and sharing their
Christmas meal. Cigars, tins of beef,
beer and chocolate were given freely among combatants. Even a burial party was arranged to care for
the dead. “This sight I will never forget in my life”, wrote Josef Wenzl.[3]
“Christmas 1914 will remain engraven on the memory of many British soldiers as
one of the most extraordinary days of our lives”, insisted an officer of the
Gordon Highlanders. And while the
fighting slowly erupted again in this war to end all wars, the Christmas truce
of 1914 bears witness to the power of peace to break into our battle-weary
world.
Jesus reminds us “peace
I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world
gives.” [4] His
peace is different than the momentary pacified calm when we are simply tired of
fighting. It is personal and global, merciful
and full of justice. It is peace with a
price. It too broke into our world in a most extraordinary place and in a most
extraordinary way, on a Roman execution stake. Here, amid nails, a thorny crown
and a bloodied body beaten beyond recognition, the God of the universe rent the
heavens and came down[5]
bringing peace on earth. The cross
provides not only the place where we work out our differences, but it also
provides the praxis for working out lasting peace, a peace that is both personal and global.
A great temptation when discussing peace is to assume it is an abstract act of non-violent detente between nations, but peace is incredibly personal and local. Personal peace starts by admitting we are all part of the problem, destroying the notion of 'us and them'. We are all part of the problem, each one of us aid and abet this culture of death. “When we dare to look at the myriad of hostile feelings and thoughts in our hearts and minds, we will immediately recognize the many little and big wars in which we take part.”[7] But thanks be to God we are given the ministry of reconciliation. “The procedure outlined by Jesus in Matthew 18 is how and what it means for his disciples to be at peace with one another.”[8] Jesus assumes we will wrong one another, that we will create enemies because of our sin. The question therefore isn’t so much about eliminating these periodic conflicts, but in dealing with them when they arise. Discipleship demands honest, one on one confrontation because the peace that Jesus gives is not simply the absence of violence, it is the restoration of relationships.[9] His peace is based on truth and truth-telling. It is being bold enough to tell the truth about ourselves, and to speak the truth to our brothers and sisters in Christ.
A great temptation when discussing peace is to assume it is an abstract act of non-violent detente between nations, but peace is incredibly personal and local. Personal peace starts by admitting we are all part of the problem, destroying the notion of 'us and them'. We are all part of the problem, each one of us aid and abet this culture of death. “When we dare to look at the myriad of hostile feelings and thoughts in our hearts and minds, we will immediately recognize the many little and big wars in which we take part.”[7] But thanks be to God we are given the ministry of reconciliation. “The procedure outlined by Jesus in Matthew 18 is how and what it means for his disciples to be at peace with one another.”[8] Jesus assumes we will wrong one another, that we will create enemies because of our sin. The question therefore isn’t so much about eliminating these periodic conflicts, but in dealing with them when they arise. Discipleship demands honest, one on one confrontation because the peace that Jesus gives is not simply the absence of violence, it is the restoration of relationships.[9] His peace is based on truth and truth-telling. It is being bold enough to tell the truth about ourselves, and to speak the truth to our brothers and sisters in Christ.
“Reconciliation is
needed anywhere we begin to speak in terms of ‘us and them’, when our lives
intersect with people who do not think as we think, who do not speak as we
speak and who do not act as we act. It is the act of interrupting injustice
without mirroring injustice, it is the act of disarming evil without destroying
the evildoer, it is finding a third way beyond fight and flight through the
ministry of reconciliation.”[10]
We bear witness to how little we love our neighbor by
refusing to engage in the difficult task of reconciliation.[11]
Peace is very personal indeed.
But, peace is also global, and Christians the world over are called to beat their swords into ploughshares to renounce this culture of death. Citizenship in this or that nation never trumps our true loyalty. Beyond the beat of war drums, patriotism, ideology, nationalism, even beyond our crimes and betrayals, we are subject to the Prince of Peace, who purchased our citizenship for heaven out of this world of violence. It is here on His cross that Christ demonstrates to the Body of Christ how to
live as an alternative community of peace on the global stage. We are reminded of our place as resident
aliens, sojourning in an empire that brings down from Capital Hill a new commandment: Thou Shalt Kill Your Enemy!
As Americans, we have rarely if ever bled and died for our faith, but we are often asked to bleed and die for our country. “What is really true in any society is what is worth killing for, and what citizens may be compelled to sacrifice their lives for.”[12] The violence of nations is justified by the protection of our way of life, our loves: freedom, economic dominance, exclusivity, stability and order. Are we as Christ followers really allowed to kill for oil, for national retribution, for global hegemony or for economic security? No. "No human being, even those armed and at war against my country, can be regarded as legitimate targets. Christians may not kill, period."
Instead of choosing violence, we must choose endurance. As Christ’s disciples scattered across national lines in this kingdom diaspora, we are not allowed to kill, but he does bid us come and die. The Cross of Christ reminds us that if we are to be peacemakers capable of loving our enemies, we must first remember that we have been forgiven, and that we are members of a community of the forgiven.[13] Accordingly, the forgiveness that distinguishes the church is a global politic offering an alternative to the politics of empire based on envy, hatred and revenge.[14] And as the nation’s rage, as they plot and scheme, we live as the faithful presence of His peaceable kingdom in strange lands living the peace he left us; the peace only He could give. May it break out in the most extraordinary of places, in your life and heart.
As Americans, we have rarely if ever bled and died for our faith, but we are often asked to bleed and die for our country. “What is really true in any society is what is worth killing for, and what citizens may be compelled to sacrifice their lives for.”[12] The violence of nations is justified by the protection of our way of life, our loves: freedom, economic dominance, exclusivity, stability and order. Are we as Christ followers really allowed to kill for oil, for national retribution, for global hegemony or for economic security? No. "No human being, even those armed and at war against my country, can be regarded as legitimate targets. Christians may not kill, period."
Instead of choosing violence, we must choose endurance. As Christ’s disciples scattered across national lines in this kingdom diaspora, we are not allowed to kill, but he does bid us come and die. The Cross of Christ reminds us that if we are to be peacemakers capable of loving our enemies, we must first remember that we have been forgiven, and that we are members of a community of the forgiven.[13] Accordingly, the forgiveness that distinguishes the church is a global politic offering an alternative to the politics of empire based on envy, hatred and revenge.[14] And as the nation’s rage, as they plot and scheme, we live as the faithful presence of His peaceable kingdom in strange lands living the peace he left us; the peace only He could give. May it break out in the most extraordinary of places, in your life and heart.
[1]
Ecksteins, Modris. The Rites of Spring: The Great War and the Birth of The
Modern Age.
[2]
Ibid.
[3]
Wenzl, Josef. In a Letter Written From the Front, Belgium, December 1914.
[4]
John 14: 27.
[5]
Isaiah 64: 1.
[6]
Isaiah 59: 3,
[7]
Nouwen, Henri. Daily Meditation From the Henri Nouwen Society, “A Ministry That
Never Ends.”
[8]
Hauerwas, Stanley. Matthew.
[9]
Ibid.
[10]
Shane Claiborne, Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove and Enuma Okoro, Common Prayer: A
Liturgy For Ordinary Radicals.
[11]
Hauerwas, Stanley. Matthew.
[12][12]
Marvin, Carolyn and David Ingle. Blood, Sacrifice and The Nation: Totem
Rituals and The American Flag. 1999.
[13]
Hauerwas, Stanley, Matthew.
[14]
Ibid.
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