Always a quirky combination of light and darkness...

This Advent I have been wrestling with peace-making: within myself and my faith community as well as among those in the wider world. And I've noticed two things:

+ First, I'm not really very good at peace-making. Just when I think I'm the the right track, I get slammed by something that throws me off course. It might be my own prejudice or laziness. It could be an other's cruelty or stubbornness. Sometimes it is just the still shocking realization that no matter how hard I try, I can only change a little bit - even after all these years - which feels so unfair.

+ Second, I am trying to be more playful rather than earnest about my peace-making failures. Take them seriously, to be sure, but laugh at them more than feel ashamed. Embrace and own them more than hide or avoid them. Recognize that my failures are just as much a part of me as are my successes for I am a quirky combination of both light and darkness all at the same time. And sometimes I can't distinguish one from the other. (I think of the poet, Robert Bly, beginning a conversation by saying: Look, I'm going to tell you some great truths and some total bullshit so I need you to listen carefully... because I don't know which is which!)

St. Paul spoke of this in his own unique revelation in Romans 7:

I know that all God's commands are spiritual, but I'm not. Isn't this also your experience?" Yes. I'm full of myself—after all, I've spent a long time in sin's prison. What I don't understand about myself is that I decide one way, but then I act another, doing things I absolutely despise. So if I can't be trusted to figure out what is best for myself and then do it, it becomes obvious that God's command is necessary. But I need something more! For if I know the law but still can't keep it, and if the power of sin within me keeps sabotaging my best intentions, I obviously need help! I realize that I don't have what it takes. I can will it, but I can't do it. I decide to do good, but I don't really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway. My decisions, such as they are, don't result in actions. Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of me every time.

It happens so regularly that it's predictable. The moment I decide to do good, sin is there to trip me up. I truly delight in God's commands, but it's pretty obvious that not all of me joins in that delight. Parts of me covertly rebel, and just when I least expect it, they take charge.

Like Siddhartha or St. Paul, I keep finding myself back at the same point beside the same river. And while much has changed, much remains the same. Perhaps that's why I am enjoying Frederick Buechner's more playful take on this same truth.

Matthew the tax-collector and Thomas the doubter. Peter the Rock and Judas the traitor. Mary Magdalene and Lazarus's sister Martha. And the popcorn-eating old woman. And the fat man in the pick-up. They are all our family, and you and I are their family and each other's family, because that is what Jesus has called us as the Church to be. Our happiness is all mixed up with each other's happiness and our peace with each other's peace. Our own happiness, our own peace, can never be complete until we find some way of sharing it with people who the way things are now have no happiness and know no peace. Jesus calls us to show this truth forth, live this truth forth... Where there are dark places, be the light especially there. Be the salt of the earth. Bring out the true flavor of what it is to be alive truly. Be truly alive. Be life-givers to others...

Including old C.G. Jung would insist yourselves: the blind and lame, the wounded and maimed are just as much within as without, yes? The more I own this truth, the more playful I can be with myself - and the more peace I can bear in the world. I don't fully "get" this, but like Hurly said on "Lost" last night when confronted by Richard Alpert who wants to blow up yet another plane (we're watching the final season together as often as we can this Advent) - "You can follow me and talk... or you can keep blowing things up."

Dianne turned to me on the sofa and said, "Damn, that's about the best summary of being a Christian I know. You can either follow me... or keep blowing things up!" Let's see where following leads today...