The Wind in the Trees

“to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.” Luke 1:79

One of the many things I love about Christmas is that we get to think about angels. In the Christian world, at least, it seems angels are out of court the rest of the year–deemed too weird or New Agey, I guess. Nevertheless, for me, contemplating the song the herald angels sing, the angels we have heard on high and musing on the realms of glory they inhabit elevates my mind and spirit. The images of love and beauty they evoke somehow make me feel more hopeful, more gentle and joyful.

Of course, we know very little about angels or what they do, but we get an important clue in the book of Hebrews. It tells us they are sent to serve those seeking God. The Christmas story makes it clear that one of the ways they serve us is through guidance. Almost everyone in the narrative is guided by an angel. Gabriel enlightens both Zachariah, the father of John the Baptist, and Mary, the mother of Jesus, regarding the important births of their children. Joseph is directed by a dream to not hesitate to take Mary as his wife ever though she is pregnant. When Herod determines to kill Jesus, Joseph is guided again, this time to take Jesus to Egypt. The shepherds hear the angels proclamation of Jesus’ birth and are guided to Bethlehem to see him. The wise men are guided by a star, stars and angels being closely associated in scripture.

These are specific acts of angelic guidance for particular people at particular times. However, God wants to guide all His people with a more general guidance which always applies. The father of John the Baptist prophesied about this when he joyfully proclaimed the birth of Jesus. The messiah, Zachariah enthused, would ”give light to those who sit in darkness and the shadow of death” and “guide our feet into the way of peace.”(Luke 1:79)

Zachariah’s words speak to the fact that God filled that first Christmas not only with angels, but also with peace. His prophecy was taken from Isaiah 9 which goes on to say, “Unto us a child is born, a son is given” and he will be called “Prince of Peace.” Then, of course, the angels burst upon the Bethlehem hillside with the jubilant cry of, “Peace on earth, good will to all!”

Unfortunately, when we look at our world, the angels’ words seem hollow. The New York Times reported that in the last 3400 years, only 268 have been free from war (defined as a conflict with at least 1000 deaths). We may feel like the songwriter of I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day, when he laments, “And in despair I bowed my head, There is no peace on Earth, I said.”

But is it really as hopeless as it might seem? Is it as bad after Jesus’ birth as it was before he came? Is there anywhere we can find more peace on earth?

One of great psychological disasters of our culture is the news industry. It keeps pumping out war after war, crisis after crisis and any other bad news it can possibly uncover all for our viewing pleasure. Sadly, we too often take the bait and allow it to entertain us incessantly. Consequently, we are bombarded with a steady diet of fearful developments that we can do nothing about. I am persuaded that this mindless consumption contributes to the anxiety crisis we see today and creates a sense of hopelessness for many people.

The tragedy is that by allowing ourselves to be mesmerized by the big macro world and issues we are powerless to change, we can ignore the micro personal world we inhabit, the one we can actually do something about.

In her book, The Liturgy of the Ordinary, Tish Harrison Warren describes herself as “a pacifist who yells at her husband.”  Thus, in a humorous way she points out our tendency to dream big but not take the necessary little steps to achieve what we want. We can have grand ideas of making wars cease and establishing peace on earth and all the while disturb everyone around us.

Many of us look so forward to getting together with family and friends at this time of year. But sometimes because our expectations for the occasion are so high, we end up disappointed. Home was not the sanctuary of love that we envisioned.

As we head into the Christmas holidays, is it possible we could experience more peace in our family gatherings by stepping back from the torrent of bad news? Could we instead say to ourselves, “I’m going to focus on the people for whom my love, my good intentions can make a significant difference. I’m going to be the very best version of myself when I get together with my family and friends. Around our table and around our Christmas tree, I am going to let the Messiah guide my feet into the way of peace.”?