The candle of peace
08/12/24 03:31
Today is the second Sunday of Advent, the Sunday of peace. Like so many generations of faithful people who have preceded us we light the candle with a vision, but without a clear understanding of the path to peace, or of what a world at peace would truly be. Peace is a multi-dimensional concept that includes but is not limited to an end of violence and conflict between nations. Those seeking peace in the world have long understood that simply the ending of armed conflict between nations is insufficient when injustice prevails. The suffering of innocents has occurred in nations that are not ostensibly at war with other nations. There is no peace for the victims of sexual violence, human trafficking, and genocide. A world at peace requires justice for all. Huge imbalances in the distribution of power and wealth result in violence against those with the least.
As we lit our Advent candle and discussed the idea of peace with our grandchildren last night, they focused not on the international situation and the places of war in our world, but rather on the sense of inner peace. The children spoke of the sense of peace that they feel when they play with their younger brother, when they walk in the forest, and when they have time to simply lie still in a warm and comfortable place.
This year we are reading together “The Best Christmas Pageant Ever” during Advent. The familiar story of the Herdman children, who are the worst kids in the world, and how they toke over the church pageant has now been made into a movie, but the book remains a classic and worth reading aloud again and again. At the point where we are in the story, there is little that resembles peace in the pageant preparations. Most of the children are simply afraid of the Herdmans, and it appears that chaos will disrupt the traditions that have been part of the church’s Christmas pageant for as long as anyone can remember.
Somehow, thinking of traditions, brought to my mind something that has been a part of my life since I was born. Eight years before my birth, the United States detonated two atomic bombs over the Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. It was the only use of nuclear weapons in armed conflict and the results were devastating. It has never been possible to get a completely accurate count of the casualties. Between 150,000 and 250,000 people were immediately killed, most of them civilians, many of them women, children, and elders. A comparable number of people later died of burn and radiation injuries. It is estimated that 650,000 people survived the attacks. They are known as Hibakusha in Japanese.
I grew up under the threat of further nuclear war. We were taught to crawl under our school desks in the event of an attack, as if such behavior would have made any difference to the victims of the the attacks against Japan. Our neighbors dug bomb shelters and equipped them with non perishable food and drinking water as if surviving the initial attack would somehow be preferable than dying instantly. The doomsday clock has been ticking near to midnight for all of my life.
I don’t know how to teach my grandchildren about peace in a world with such a history of violence where peace between nations seems to be impossible and where the places of power and decision making seem so removed from our everyday lives.
This week, on Tuesday, the 2024 Nobel Peace Prize will be awarded. This year’s recipient will be Nihon Hidankyo, an organization of local Hibakusha associations that also includes victims of nuclear weapons tests on various Pacific islands. The Nihon Hidankyo is an organization dedicated to protecting the rights of survivors and working to insure that nuclear weapons are never again used.
One of the privileges of my life is that I have traveled to Japan. I have walked the reconstructed streets of Hiroshima. I have stood outside of the ruins. I have pondered the paper cranes at the Children’s Peace Monument and seen the tiny cranes folded by Sadako Sasaki in the Children’s Museum. I have rung the peace bell with my prayers for peace and my promise to work for a world free of weapons of mass destruction.
Today, as we worship with our congregation and light the candle of peace in our church, I will look at the paper cranes that are decorating our sanctuary and I will remember my time in Hiroshima. And I will offer a prayer of thanks for the witness of the survivors and the victims. It is often the victims who bring us critical messages of peace. Nihon Hidankyo is not the first recipient of the Nobel Peace Price that has been the victim of violence.
Last year’s recipient, Narges Mohammadi, spoke up against oppression of women in Iran. In 2018, Denis Mukwege and Nadia Murad were awarded the prize for their efforts to end the use of sexual violence as a weapon of war and armed conflict.
If we would truly seek peace, we must listen carefully to the victims. And we live in a world with so many victims. The death toll in Gaza has exceeded 44 thousand with 70 percent of the victims being children and women. As many as 100,000 have been killed in the war in Ukraine with an additional 400,000 wounded. It is nearly impossible to know the exact number of victims of the Sudanese civil war, but more than 60,000 have been counted. Over 7 million have been forced from their homes and over 2 million are international refugees from that war. And the list of wars and violence goes on an on. The number of victims increases every day.
Peace is a difficult concept. That is why it is so important for us to focus on peace and renew our commitment to peace every year. May we continue to listen carefully to the victims and join in both their prayers and their work for peace in the world, as we practice peacefulness in our personal lives each day.
As we lit our Advent candle and discussed the idea of peace with our grandchildren last night, they focused not on the international situation and the places of war in our world, but rather on the sense of inner peace. The children spoke of the sense of peace that they feel when they play with their younger brother, when they walk in the forest, and when they have time to simply lie still in a warm and comfortable place.
This year we are reading together “The Best Christmas Pageant Ever” during Advent. The familiar story of the Herdman children, who are the worst kids in the world, and how they toke over the church pageant has now been made into a movie, but the book remains a classic and worth reading aloud again and again. At the point where we are in the story, there is little that resembles peace in the pageant preparations. Most of the children are simply afraid of the Herdmans, and it appears that chaos will disrupt the traditions that have been part of the church’s Christmas pageant for as long as anyone can remember.
Somehow, thinking of traditions, brought to my mind something that has been a part of my life since I was born. Eight years before my birth, the United States detonated two atomic bombs over the Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. It was the only use of nuclear weapons in armed conflict and the results were devastating. It has never been possible to get a completely accurate count of the casualties. Between 150,000 and 250,000 people were immediately killed, most of them civilians, many of them women, children, and elders. A comparable number of people later died of burn and radiation injuries. It is estimated that 650,000 people survived the attacks. They are known as Hibakusha in Japanese.
I grew up under the threat of further nuclear war. We were taught to crawl under our school desks in the event of an attack, as if such behavior would have made any difference to the victims of the the attacks against Japan. Our neighbors dug bomb shelters and equipped them with non perishable food and drinking water as if surviving the initial attack would somehow be preferable than dying instantly. The doomsday clock has been ticking near to midnight for all of my life.
I don’t know how to teach my grandchildren about peace in a world with such a history of violence where peace between nations seems to be impossible and where the places of power and decision making seem so removed from our everyday lives.
This week, on Tuesday, the 2024 Nobel Peace Prize will be awarded. This year’s recipient will be Nihon Hidankyo, an organization of local Hibakusha associations that also includes victims of nuclear weapons tests on various Pacific islands. The Nihon Hidankyo is an organization dedicated to protecting the rights of survivors and working to insure that nuclear weapons are never again used.
One of the privileges of my life is that I have traveled to Japan. I have walked the reconstructed streets of Hiroshima. I have stood outside of the ruins. I have pondered the paper cranes at the Children’s Peace Monument and seen the tiny cranes folded by Sadako Sasaki in the Children’s Museum. I have rung the peace bell with my prayers for peace and my promise to work for a world free of weapons of mass destruction.
Today, as we worship with our congregation and light the candle of peace in our church, I will look at the paper cranes that are decorating our sanctuary and I will remember my time in Hiroshima. And I will offer a prayer of thanks for the witness of the survivors and the victims. It is often the victims who bring us critical messages of peace. Nihon Hidankyo is not the first recipient of the Nobel Peace Price that has been the victim of violence.
Last year’s recipient, Narges Mohammadi, spoke up against oppression of women in Iran. In 2018, Denis Mukwege and Nadia Murad were awarded the prize for their efforts to end the use of sexual violence as a weapon of war and armed conflict.
If we would truly seek peace, we must listen carefully to the victims. And we live in a world with so many victims. The death toll in Gaza has exceeded 44 thousand with 70 percent of the victims being children and women. As many as 100,000 have been killed in the war in Ukraine with an additional 400,000 wounded. It is nearly impossible to know the exact number of victims of the Sudanese civil war, but more than 60,000 have been counted. Over 7 million have been forced from their homes and over 2 million are international refugees from that war. And the list of wars and violence goes on an on. The number of victims increases every day.
Peace is a difficult concept. That is why it is so important for us to focus on peace and renew our commitment to peace every year. May we continue to listen carefully to the victims and join in both their prayers and their work for peace in the world, as we practice peacefulness in our personal lives each day.
