December 3, 2007

Advent Greetings, beloved friends!

John and I want to begin with a word of appreciation to everyone who was involved in Mission Challenge 07, which appears to have brought real encouragement to the people in World Mission who nurtured it. Gratitude goes to those fine folks, to the mission co-workers who so tirelessly visited churches throughout the United States, and to the congregations that demonstrated such enthusiastic support for international mission work. If you contact me at the email or postal addresses on our home page, I will be pleased to provide you with information about the new, user-friendly method that has been developed to enable you to support World Mission and any or all PC(USA) mission workers. However, I want to continue this letter with a little reminder of why God’s gifts of grace and peace must be cultivated throughout the world.

A few years ago, as I sat in a coffee shop overlooking Wenceslas Square, I mentally began to write a letter extolling the picture-perfect image of international harmony that I saw below. Hare Krishnas were moving rhythmically up the street as a contingent of Japanese tourists mingled with Czech residents and other multi-national groups. Thinking of Iraq, Darfur, and other troubled spots, I wished that people from such regions could catch a vision of this more gracious way.

Church where the concert to support disabled youth was held.

That image has remained intact, so I was surprised when our landlady decided not to accompany us to a benefit concert on behalf of the Stodůlky Diaconal Center for disabled youth. She said, “I would be afraid to go. The church is near the Jewish Quarter, and the neo-Nazis are coming there for Crystal Night. There will be hundreds of police with tear gas and weapons. Who knows what will happen!”

Later, John said, “I am inclined to go to the concert to show that I will not be intimidated by hatred.” “Yes,” I replied, “and before the concert, I would like to go to the ecumenical gathering in the Old Town Square that will commemorate the night in 1938 when the Nazis burned so many houses and synagogues. I think we must be there.”

The decision had been made, and despite our landlady’s continued warnings, I could not imagine that anything could break the peace of “my” city. Yet, on Saturday afternoon, I was less sure. In our neighborhood, we passed four young men whose clothes told me who they were, and on the metro there were other boys wearing the same tell-tale shirts. Standing near that little group, I felt a sense of disdain, which grew stronger as we passed riot-clothed police, armored cars, bands of young men in black, and other people wearing the yellow star used to identify Jews when they were rounded up by the Nazis. Something might actually happen,” I concluded. Yet, at the edge of the Square, three young men holding shields bearing the word “Jude” seemed to say “no“ to the neo-Nazis.

I was surprised by the size of the crowd standing around the Hus Memorial, where prayers and speeches were offered by clergy, politicians, advocacy groups, and elderly survivors of concentration camps. We were far from the stage and a police helicopter kept circling overhead, so it was hard to hear, but I did make out a somber reading of the names of all of the concentration camps and occasional words like “honor,” “victims,” “responsibility,” “suffering, ” and “unfortunately,” followed by references to the neo-Nazis. Finally, a member of the Jewish community concluded by playing a shofar that traditionally was used to sound a call to battle, but could also issue an invitation to celebration. Turning from left to right, he blew into that instrument and breathed a blessing over the crowd.

Church where the concert was held while neo-Nazis threatened violence outside.

A sense of calm prevailed as we walked to the church, where another large group had assembled to support the Diaconia and hear a celebrated choir. Although its harmonies were rich, I sensed that there were menacing sounds outside. “Was that a flare?” I wondered as I looked at the chancel window. My suspicions were soon confirmed, as one composition ended and a steady wail of sirens sounded. For several minutes, we waited in suspense. Then, the concert resumed, and an aura of peace permeated the room.

After greeting friends, we walked along quiet streets with concert-goers, couples, dog owners, and lines of police and vehicles blocking entrance to the Jewish quarter. It was as if the neo-Nazis had vanished, and I wanted to believe that the spirit represented by the faithful people who had filled the Square and the church had carried the day. I wanted to suppose that harmony had won out over sirens and that the Prince of Peace had prevailed.

However, television news revealed that the neo-Nazis had marched—not in the Jewish Quarter as planned—but on streets near our office. Confiscated weapons, hooded neo-Nazis, running police, and chaotic streets showed that the threat had been real. Its perpetrators had not just faded away. Thus, the blessing that was breathed in the Old Town Square and the peace that we took with us from the church must be purposefully cultivated by every one of us! During this holy season may our encounters with the Christ Child be more than a seasonal affair. May they fill us with life-long commitment to being heralds of harmony and love.

Shalom,

Joyce and John

The 2007 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 178