Searching for Shalom

Searching for Shalom

I don’t know if you have heard, however, there will be no Christmas celebration in Bethlehem this year because of the war between Israel and Palestine. Usually it is the busiest time of the year with Christians from around the world making the pilgrimage to the city of Christ’ birth. This year there will be no processions, no triumphant music piped throughout the city, no bright lights and tinsel. Instead there will be a quiet worship service on Christmas Eve. That is all. What a contrast. War brings heartache and destruction. Conflict brings turmoil even as we seek ways to celebrate the Prince of Peace.  The weary world needs to hear of hope. The weary world needs to have hope. Reflecting on this time, I came across a poem by  Ann Weems that I would like to share with you.

Searching for Shalom

I keep searching for shalom, drawing my water from one well after another-

But still I thirst for the shower of blessing that is shalom.

I yearn for life to be just and merciful and peaceful, but the streets are filled with daily deaths of spirit and of flesh…but no shalom.

I keep searching for shalom, away from crowds and commotion, but peace and quiet don’t blot the pain of broken hearts and broken bodies.

I keep searching for shalom, thinking perhaps I’ll find it in a quiet field of flowers or in star, or sea, or snow, but still the innocent are trampled.

I keep searching for shalom, standing in holy places, sitting among the saints. Surely in the sanctuary I will find shalom.

I keep searching for shalom, but holy places are not magic. Good works and printed prayers don’t guarantee shalom.

Beyond cathedral walls and above ethereal music, the blaring din of death persists. Back in the streets, the people walk in darkness.

I keep searching for shalom. I have pursued and sought it.

Have I looked in the wrong places?

What is this bonding, this glue among us, this cohesiveness that holds us in the hope of shalom?

The longing won’t die. The hope keeps emerging like a new sprout that perseveres on the stump of a felled tree.

Even in the daily barrage of obscenities some new star melts into my eyes and the promise persists.

Here in the darkness some new light stirs within me. Here in the streets I find shalom.

Shalom lives not in the sanctuary, but in the streets…

In chaos

On a cross.

In the face of Jesus is the peace that passes all understanding, the everlasting Sabbath…Shalom!

 Searching for Shalom, Ann Weems, p19-21

Shalom comes to the weary world through the face of the Prince of Peace, in a cradle and on a cross. Let us seek shalom through our time of worship on Christmas Eve.

Peace, Josie