So, we're in the second week of Advent, and peace is the theme.
Most of the time, when I think about peace, I think about the peace I get from God. God brings me peace.
As I helped move my friend in late last night, and stare at all his stuff sprawled out on the living room floor, I don't feel at peace.
As I think about my other friend who I've been buying motel rooms for so that he can get one . . . more . . . night at the inn, I don't feel at peace.
As I think about my friend's mom whose just discovering that her heart's not the way it should be . . . I don't feel at peace.
I've been walking through the book of Amos, where the thread that binds the whole book together is God's care for the poor and oppressed, and Amos's warnings to the Israelites about what his God would do if they continued to build up themselves while the people around them suffered as a direct result.
The audience Amos was speaking to thought they were at peace, but really they were about to get pounded by the nations around them who'd been ravaged by Israel for years.
Sometimes, peace has nothing to do with what I receive from God, and has everything to do with what God wants to give to others through me. Is it possible that I can be un-peaceful inside the inner recesses of my soul, while at the same time being a vessel of peace to those around me?
Have you ever had to ask yourself, "When do I draw the line with so-and-so?"
"When is he gonna learn?" "I don't know how much more I can handle of this before I go crazy!"
For the Israelites, bringing peace to the poor would have meant tearing down the luxurious mansions, shrines, and temples they'd built through their own pyramid schemes with the poor. They were the modern day payday loansharks, except they did it in the name of a god who demanded offerings and sacrifices.
For the Israelites to be peace to the world around them, they would've had to torn apart everything they'd worked for to build their versions of comfort. They would've had to sacrifice their own versions of peace in order to bring peace to the world around them.
Peace isn't always this gift that we expect to enter into our hearts and minds come Christmas time. Sometimes, it's what we bring to the world while our own broken hearts scream and neurotic minds race.
Most of the time, when I think about peace, I think about the peace I get from God. God brings me peace.
As I helped move my friend in late last night, and stare at all his stuff sprawled out on the living room floor, I don't feel at peace.
As I think about my other friend who I've been buying motel rooms for so that he can get one . . . more . . . night at the inn, I don't feel at peace.
As I think about my friend's mom whose just discovering that her heart's not the way it should be . . . I don't feel at peace.
I've been walking through the book of Amos, where the thread that binds the whole book together is God's care for the poor and oppressed, and Amos's warnings to the Israelites about what his God would do if they continued to build up themselves while the people around them suffered as a direct result.
The audience Amos was speaking to thought they were at peace, but really they were about to get pounded by the nations around them who'd been ravaged by Israel for years.
Sometimes, peace has nothing to do with what I receive from God, and has everything to do with what God wants to give to others through me. Is it possible that I can be un-peaceful inside the inner recesses of my soul, while at the same time being a vessel of peace to those around me?
Have you ever had to ask yourself, "When do I draw the line with so-and-so?"
"When is he gonna learn?" "I don't know how much more I can handle of this before I go crazy!"
For the Israelites, bringing peace to the poor would have meant tearing down the luxurious mansions, shrines, and temples they'd built through their own pyramid schemes with the poor. They were the modern day payday loansharks, except they did it in the name of a god who demanded offerings and sacrifices.
For the Israelites to be peace to the world around them, they would've had to torn apart everything they'd worked for to build their versions of comfort. They would've had to sacrifice their own versions of peace in order to bring peace to the world around them.
Peace isn't always this gift that we expect to enter into our hearts and minds come Christmas time. Sometimes, it's what we bring to the world while our own broken hearts scream and neurotic minds race.
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