Advent Week Two: (Radical) Peace
You can read the first part of this series on Advent here. There you can find an explanation of my alternative approach to the season, as well as my perspective on the first week’s theme of hope and faith.
This is the second Sunday of Advent. We begin our second week of reflection as we await the culmination of the season, whether represented by deity or daylight.
The theme of this week of Advent is peace. Superficially, this seems like it would be a fairly straightforward concept. Promote peace; being at peace fosters more peace in the world. Be happy and kind and that will take care of the most important things, right?
Not quite.
Our current world is not a peaceful world. Our people are not at peace. We are, so many of us, quite literally fighting for the right to exist and for our very lives. We are not okay.
The kind of peace we are being called upon to bring forth into this world is radical. Radical peace is not the same as simply feeling calm.
An active practice of radical peace calls upon us to face the troubling realities of our society. People are harmed simply because our society decides they have less worth. People are considered less than worthy because of the color of their skin, because they do not fit expected gender roles, because they have less money, and many other invalid excuses to pass judgment.
Judgment. The topic of one of the few noted rules in the Gospel. Judge not. Every time you pass a person on the street — when you think about how they should just “get a job”, how they must not want services, how they must have done something to put themselves in their situation — you are living against this commandment.
You are also fooling yourself, because “there but for the grace of God, deities, Spirit, Source, or circumstance” go you, too.
I never thought I would be homeless. I grew up in the suburbs. I had a car and went to a college prep school. I went to college. As is often the case, though, things weren’t as smooth as they seemed on the surface. I was living in an abusive situation that I was desperately trying to get out of. Eventually, I did. I had a great job and was doing well. I made the “right” choices.
When I came out as transgender in 2009, I found myself fired from two jobs. The calls stopped coming, despite sending out the same number of fairly impressive resumes. Unable to support myself and my disabled partner, it didn’t take long for us to end up on the street.
We were approached by all sorts of people. Most didn’t lift their eyes to meet ours if they stopped to look at the jewelry that my partner beaded or drop a few coins in our cup. Those who did usually tried to be helpful. They would often suggest going to the main shelters in the city, but they were gendered and everybody knew they were not kind to transgender people. That’s why we chose to stay away from the shelters. Some understood. Some thought we were choosing to avoid help, therefore, choosing our fate to live on the street.
Coming to this conclusion serves two purposes for people. One, it allows them to walk away with a clean conscience, because they have decided there’s nothing more they could have done, since the destitute were choosing their situation. Two, it allows them to feel safe, because the person or people they see must have made some kind of bad decision in their life. Since that’s not something they would ever do, they are safe from the same situation.
The reality is, our society punishes people for being anything but privileged, or serving those who are privileged. The first is only a matter of luck or circumstance. The second is at the behest of those by whom you must be accepted. To be accepted, as in valued, you’d better not be BIPOC, LGBTQ+, or disabled. You’d better have decent teeth and no visible physical differences. If you pass the test, then you might get a job that pays you less than your cost of living.
If you don’t, you are cast out. Punished financially and socially. Dehumanization is a very real problem in our world. A quick Google search will bring up a bunch of reading on the topic. Once people are completely “othered”, studies have shown the brains of people looking at them don’t even see a human being.
When we think of peace, these are all things we must consider. Can there be peace without justice? To paraphrase my previous reflection, nothing is just and better for any of us until it is just and better for all of us.
As people who label ourselves spiritual, we know, consciously or subconsciously, that real peace is achieved through right action. While I’m no longer a singularly practicing Catholic, I was reared in the social justice wing of the Church. I believe in the principle of faith-driven right action as our duty on this earth; we are beholden to be just and nonjudgmental towards one another.
Is anyone perfect at this? Of course not. It takes work. Your effort matters.
Our dedication to our faith is demonstrated to the Divine by our willingness to do right in this world. We must perform right action however we can, in whatever ways are possible for us. We share what we have, and give what we can. Whether it be time, love, possessions, money… The point is in recognizing the worth and dignity in people who have been cast out.
Sounds familiar.
Jesus hung out with outcasts. St. Brigid was released from her father’s bondage because he got tired of her giving away all of his possessions to those in need. Or, well, he tried. She continued to give away his wealth while he tried to negotiate to sell her. Finally, he tried to arrange a marriage for her, and she fled to dedicate her life to God.
Peace is not necessarily comfortable, not in our present world. However, there is a fulfilling inner peace that can’t be achieved any other way. When our spirit is actively engaging in the righteous work we are meant to do, our spirit will live and breathe peace.
What a goal to keep in mind during Advent: righteous action in the name of peace for the world and for our souls.
Thank you for joining me for this reflection. Blessings to you this Advent season.
