Still Christmas?

During this past Christmas season, I have found myself captured by the words of the classic hymn, “Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me.” Words probably derived from the Prayer of St Fancis of Assissi, “Lord, make me an instrument of Your Peace.”

As we live in the midst of strife and anger, what would it mean to be an instrument of His peace?
Our world is more than ever defined by our conflicts. Accusations, punches and counter-punches, rhetoric growing increasingly shrill until reason and truth are left trampled. Collateral damage in the war of slogans and talking points.

Bring the focus in tighter. Little arguments, petty responses later regretted, disagreements blown out of proportion, hurt feelings nurtured and fed.

Let peace begin with me.

It takes on a new look as I view it through the prism of my everyday circumstances. When I let it become something more than a Christmas sentiment, it loses its soft focus and I find it to be all sharp edges and harsh angles, demanding outrageous grace and humility that is beyond me.

So now, with Christmas safely packed away and out of sight for another year, will I keep the reality of Christmas unpacked in my life? Will I be an instrument of His peace?

Paul writes to the Colossians

“Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity. ... Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace” (Col 3:12-15).

What is God’s standard for forgiving? “Forgive as Christ forgave you.”

How did Christ forgive me? Did He wait until I had owned up to my sins and then dribble out forgiveness? No! While I was still a sinner, Christ died for me. While I was His enemy, He forgave me. While the offense was in progress, He cried out, “Father, forgive Jennifer! She does not know what she is doing.”

Did the Lord forgive me grudgingly? Was His forgiveness paltry and hard to get? No. It was free, it was lavish, it started with Him reaching out for me.

Did I deserve it? No. I did not and I do not. I have no claim on His forgiveness except that He has made it available. The Lord’s forgiveness is in spite of me.

Can I find His mercy’s limits? Can I sin one sin too many? His mercy never comes to an end, says Jeremiah in the book of Lamentations. Mercy without end.

Now, whether I’m shining the light of these words on the world, or on my country, or on my family, or on people whose lives intersect with mine at any juncture… the composition of the picture changes. The light falls on me. The focus is no longer on others and what they might have done to deserve my anger. The focus is now on me and what I can do to be an instrument of His peace.

Outrageous grace. Humility that is beyond me. I have no other way for peace to begin with me, than for peace to begin in me. Dying to pride, yielding control, allowing peace to flow from me like rivers of living water.

What is the call of God on my life? “Since as members of one body, you were called to peace.” Can I mouth words about “God’s call” and not offer myself to be an instrument of His peace?

Let me remind you of the well-loved Prayer of St Francis of Assissi: "Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace Where there is hatred let me sow love Where there is injury, pardon Where there is doubt, faith Where there is despair, hope Where there is darkness, light and where there is sadness, joy. O Lord, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled but to console To be understood as to understand To be loved as to love For it is in giving that I receive It is in pardoning that I am pardoned; And it is in dying that I am born to eternal life. Amen."