One part of working with children that I love dearly is their ability to explain things so simply. At times, it can be a more…metaphorical approachㅡlike when a child explained how Jesus was conceived: “God loved Mary so much that she could have a baby for free!” At other times, it can be more direct. I recently asked children to tell me what peace means to them and one said, “Peace is when everything is good and everyone can be together.” I am tempted to dive into the nuances of conflict, violence, and resolution; of how we relate to our neighbors, our world, and our selves. But those children summed it up quite wellㅡthat description is, generally speaking, what many of us envision when we imagine peaceful times. But what about the times that people are together yet everything is not good?

There is a children’s movie that I love called Smallfoot, and it speaks so simply to such times. The story opens with a picture of Yeti Village, where the protagonist Migo lives. In this town, society moves like a well-oiled machine. Everyone has a role to play, and everyone trusts the leader and his rules, which they must follow for everyone’s safety and happiness. It is one of the most harmonious towns I have ever imagined. Migo is happy there until he sees something that should not exist: a smallfoot. Though he tries to tell the others the truth of what he saw, they will not listen. In fact, he is banished from his home until he is willing to deny that truth. Suddenly, the two parts of peace were at odds; he could be together with everyone at the cost of his integrity—feeling good about his actions—or he could keep his integrity with him in isolation. He could not be together with everyone and have everything be good. That is to say that peace felt impossible.

As we remember the familiar stories of Advent, the scenes that I grew up with were pictured in the wooden figures of a creche and sounded like the quiescent melody of “Silent Night.” It is tempting to picture it like the harmonious bubble of Yeti Village, where all is serene and settled. Yet the full story is much farther from peace than we usually remember. Jesus was born during the rule of Herod, a fearful and difficult time for the ancient Israelites. Mary and Joseph are grappling with an unplanned pregnancy, and they do not have adequate shelter after a long and trying journey that took them far from their home. Though we have come to find peace in the stories of Advent, I doubt that Mary or Joseph felt very peaceful. They worried about what the future would hold, and I imagine that, at moments, peace felt impossible for them, too.

In Smallfoot, Migo finds his bearings slowly as he tries to recover the peace that he once knew. He finds company and friendship in the SESㅡthe Smallfoot Evidenciary Societyㅡa secret society of quirky outcasts who are searching for the truth. He discovers that the world is much bigger than he had been told, and that Smallfeet (humans, as it turns out) not only exist but live all across the expansive world. And he learns why their rules were created. The humans had attacked the Yetis and so they hid on the top of a mountain out of fear for their safety. At every turn his curiosity brought him more knowledge, but that knowledge did not help him find peace; in fact, he found that his conviction about what is right and his connection to his friends seemed to grow further and further apart. In a moment of distress Migo tells his dad, “I was happier before I knew.”

Preparing for Advent this year has been hard for me. Truthfully, I feel a bit like Migoㅡhappier before I knew. Peace seemed easier for me to imagine and feel when I only knew the angelic nativity scenes. But today, we are finding it increasingly difficultㅡimpossible, evenㅡto be together. Things are far from good. Globally and personally, there are so many things that disturb and disrupt my peace, and rightfully so. With such mess and hurt in the headlines and in our homes, how can we possibly speak to peace in this moment?

In the movie, Migo helps his people move toward peace by taking two big steps. First, he shares the full story with the community. The rules they have followed their entire lives were not telling them the whole truth, but they were protecting the Yetis from real and serious harm. And after they knew the full story, he helped them come down from the mountaintop. It was a frightening change, but he knew that the path toward peace would require conversation and relationship. And through that step of vulnerability, friendship started to bloom between smallfoot and bigfoot, humans and Yetis.

This charming and silly holiday movie helped to remind me of how Advent and the stories of Jesus’ birth can help us find peace, too. The anxiety and tension in the fuller story don’t challenge my faith; in fact, it fills me with confidence knowing that the world did not have to be peaceful and perfect for God’s love to break in. And the mystery of the Incarnation is a beautiful reminder that the journey to peace must begin with vulnerable presence. God did not stay far from us, but drew near to the world, revealed in humanity as a newborn child. This Advent, in spite of and because of the mess and hurt all around, telling the full story and being with each other are my North stars that remind me how to find peace.

When I celebrate Communion, I begin with these words: “God’s peace is not, as Jesus said, the world’s peace. It is not, as we say, an easy peace. But it is the deep and lasting peace that comes when we find that everyone is our neighbor and that this Earth is our home.” Those children said that peace is when everything is good and we can all be together. As we search for that deep and lasting peace, may we tell the whole story and be near to each other, for that is where God’s love is found.

Loving God,

We pray this Advent for peace, and we so desperately need it.

Our world is filled with hurt.

Our communities are divided.

Our spirits ache for all to be well in unity.

Yet this pain does not keep us from youㅡ

in fact, it is in the midst of such hurt that made yourself known to us,

Loving Mystery made known in the Christ child.

Be near to us still,

that we might find the courage to tell the full story,

and the compassion to listen to others’ stories, too.

Be with us this Advent

that we might remember how to be with our neighbors

and love even our enemies.

That is to say, help us continue the journey toward your abiding peace.

Amen.

Together and Good

HOPE DEVOTIONAL