Peace on Earth – I Wish

 

A little over a year ago, I was in the Holy Land touring its historic and religious sites. After returning home, many were curious about the trip and asked me lots of questions.

I repeatedly emphasized to anyone who inquired that if they ever get the chance to go to Israel, do so. You will be forever changed.

Historically, you can almost trace humanity’s existence over the millennia there.

For those who are Christians, it roots your faith in a tangible setting. Geographically, everything was right where the Bible said it was. Americans tend to believe that we are at the center of the universe, but to see believers from every corner of the world, of various races and ethnicities in all types of garb, all there for the same reason, put into perspective the universality of Christ’s message and God’s presence in the world.

After having been on the tour, I now know what the flowers look like on Mt. Tabor, how rocky the terrain is, how brightly the sun shines there. I can still feel the silky dried salt on my skin from the Dead Sea and the heat of the dessert on my neck at Qumran, where the Dead Sea Scrolls were found. I not only looked back to the past there, but I also looked toward the future, as we gazed out over the beautiful Jezreel Valley, where the battle of Armageddon is prophesied to take place at the end of the age.

Gazing out over the Jezreel Valley.

Ed at Qumran.

I told someone that to me Jerusalem is the earth’s belly button. It seems as if the umbilical cord from heaven terminates there on earth and connects us to that which is not of this world.

One of the other questions I was frequently asked was, How safe were you there? And I repeatedly told people that never once did I feel unsafe. In fact, as I was getting on the elevator on our last night in Jerusalem, another group of Americans got on with me, and one of them asked me if I’d been to the Western Wall that day. When I said yes, he replied, “You know they shot and killed someone there this morning?” Surprised, I told them we were there in the afternoon. Apparently, some man had come to the Wall and was acting strangely. When security questioned him, he attacked the soldiers patrolling the area with a knife and he was shot. “Wow,” I said. “You never know what’s going to happen.” 

“Well,” another American said, “Last night was Halloween back home, and in Chicago 14 people were shot. No one pays attention to that.”

Well, since the October 7 attacks on Israel by Hamas, everyone is paying attention now and no one feels safe. After having been to Israel, I feel extremely sad about the violence happening there and wonder how our Catholic tour guide is faring, and all the Israelis we met, as well as the little Palestinian kids who waved to us on our tour bus as they stripped olives from the trees in their back yards. The violence all seems so unreal and unnecessary.

                                 

   The "Glory to God in the Highest" arch entering Shepherd's Field.

One of the first places we visited on the tour was Bethlehem. And next to the Shepherds’ Field is a church called the Chapel of the Angels. Like many churches there, it was designed by architect Antonio Barluzzi, and it is situated near the remains of a 4th-century church that was originally on the site where the heavenly host brought their “good tidings of great joy” to the shepherds minding their flocks.

                                           

 Chapel of the Angels designed by Antonio Barluzzi.

Inside the church, that was designed to look like a field tent much like the shepherds would use, are murals depicting the scenes of the angels coming to the shepherds to announce the birth of the Savior. Around the dome is the inscription: Gloria Excelsis Deo, et in Terra pax hominibus bonae voluntatis. 

 

                                               

 The inscription on the dome inside the chapel.

 

These were the words of the angelic host and translates from the Latin to say: Gloria to God in the Highest and in Earth peace to men of Good Will.

There are some who say that it should be translated as Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men.

There is a difference between the two translations. In the first, the peace extended to Earth is only experienced by those with good will in their hearts and the latter extends peace to all.

No matter how you translate it, Israel and the rest of us on earth could really use some peace this Christmas season. 

This article originally appeared in the December issue of Northern Connection magazine.

Feeding the Beast

When I turned eight, my mother let me have a small birthday party with two other neighborhood girls. It was probably a scaled back affair because later in the month, I would be making my First Holy Communion, and a big shebang was planned.

To protect the innocent, I’ll name the two other girls at the party Karen and Debbie. Karen lived closer, and we played together a lot, but as is often the case, when Debbie, whom I went to school with, came up the street and joined in, there would be tension as Debbie would try to monopolize Karen. It was the classic case of “three’s a crowd.” Most of the time whenever Debbie commandeered Karen and turned her against me, I’d come home crying.

I can’t tell you much about the party, what kind of cake we ate, what paper hats with rubber band chin straps we wore, or what presents I received, but more than 50 years later, I can remember in great detail an incident from the party.

Normally, I’m a very even-tempered person, but as the three of us were playing outside after eating cake and ice cream, Debbie lapsed into “mean girl mode” and began to gang up on me and try to turn the head of Karen.

I was doing a slow burn until we began to play a game in our front yard and was using an old stump as base. Debbie suddenly shoved me off the stump, and I remember thinking as I lay on the ground, What? This is my birthday! This is my day! I jumped back on the stump, looked her in the eye, and hauled off and punched her in the face.

Shocked, Debbie stared at me, and as I stood on the stump towering over her like some little Mussolini, I pointed at her and shouted, “You, go home! Now! This is my party, and I don’t want you here!” 

And she did.

I admit as I was winding up to punch her, I had this great feeling of relief as I was giving in to this beast inside me demanding vengeance for her treating me so shabbily on my big day. When my fist connected with her freckled face, it was a very satisfying, consuming feeling. Until it wasn’t any longer.

Though Debbie had it coming to her, that feeling of giving in to a misplaced, unbridled passion is still palpable and left a big impression on me as I knew it was wrong. As a little girl soon to make her Communion, I had been schooled that my reaction was wrong, and later, I’ve come to know that giving in to that base emotion of anger is dangerous.

 

With all that’s been happening in the world with injustice, violence and riots, maybe you’re feeling that ravenous beast of anger and vengeance within you rearing too, demanding to be fed with acts of meanness and violence, but I caution you. Don’t feed the beast. 

Why?

Because the beast is never satisfied. The beast, once unleashed, is difficult to rein in. The beast isn’t interested in justice, righting wrongs or giving peace a chance. The beast only wants to create discord and destruction. And the beast’s ultimate prey is you. Once unleashed, the beast will not stop until it devours you too. 

This article originally appeared in the July 2020 edition of Northern Connection magazine.