1914 was a bitter year. The June assassination of Austrian royalty in Sarajevo, in the wake of more than a decade of declining diplomacy and rising militancy among the great powers, launched Europe into the first of two deadly world wars. The guns of August rarely fell silent for the next four years. The exception was the now famous Christmas Truce.
After months of brutal trench warfare, largely resulting in stalemate over the breadth of Europe, roughly 100,000 German, British, and French troops organized an unofficial ceasefire for a few hours and, in some places, a few days, around the Christmas holiday. This gave them time to collect and bury their own, to make small offerings of peace and friendship to those who were enemies only moments before, and to sing and celebrate as their consciences dictated. Ultimately, they met in no man's land to remember their humanity, if only for a short while. These were combatants subject to unmitigated brutality on a scale heretofore unseen, who were nonetheless compelled to peace in spite of their condition. Concerns over fraternization with the enemy led commanders to issue orders against a repeat of the truce. Regardless, this brief reprieve from the horrors of war echoes throughout history.
War is the ultimate expression of the human condition, bringing out the very best and worst in those caught up in its tide. Veterans long for peace more than most, understand it more deeply, hate war and its aftermath in a way few can appreciate. For them, peace is no holiday card, no trite expression, no word uttered without thought. It has meaning precisely because it reminds them of why they fought, and why they are so desperate never to fight again.
In our topsy-turvy world, violence is too common. One threat is scuttled, and another rises to take its place. We gird up our loins, hide behind our fortifications, posture and prepare for the inevitable. Peace, it seems, is an afterthought. It is something we sue for in the aftermath of battle. I am of the opinion that peace is the cure to our human condition, the ultimate preventative. When I pray, it is often for peace, for all humankind.
We talk more of peace at this time of year than others, and rightfully so. We are called to peace in the quiet of winter, in the darkening hours, in our places of worship, in the arms of loved ones. We remember our human family and that which makes us more alike than different. As you make your way off to family, to friends, to places both personal and sacred, I wish you the blessing of peace. May we all remember the lessons of December 1914. May we all honor our shared humanity. May we all awake to a more peaceful world in 2016.
To you and yours, a joyous holiday season full of love, hope, peace, and laughter...all the cures for the soul.
James