When I was a little boy, my uncle gave me as a Christmas present a brightly coloured picture book with my own name typed onto the pages, along with the names of my brothers and sisters to make us all characters in my story, with me the hero. In the book, young Dominic flew around in Santa’s sleigh visiting all his counterparts all world; Mikuláš, Sinterklaas, St. Nicholas and so on. Upon each visit the old Saint would give Dominic a giant, coloured letter until he had travelled the world and collected the whole set: P, E, A, C and finally E.
At the time it seemed to me a miraculous book and I spent the holiday deciding if my uncle had made it all by himself, drawing all the pictures, or if some more mystical process had been employed. Magic, for me, was alive and well that Christmas.
And so it is that Christmas persists in our imagination, through magic and light and colour in the darkness. Through family and wonder and a chorus singing for peace on Earth. It is the moment when we turn our backs to the cold and gather tightly with those we love to share in the warmth and perfect joy of a newborn child in a crib.
The students giving their time on behalf of Amnesty this week remind us, though, that the world is not a children’s book and the love and warmth that I share with my family is not enjoyed by all. Our prayers and songs of peace can feel hollow in a world where so many are pushed to fight for their homes, for their freedom, and for justice.
The unending strain between peace and justice follows us throughout our lives, asking us to choose, in moments both big and small, where we draw the line, how much we compromise, and when we can forgive.
Everyone is crying out for peace, yes
None is crying out for justice
I don't want no peace
I need equal rights and justice...
...Everybody want to go to heaven but nobody want to die
Church Sunday school did not prepare me for the moral education of Mr Peter Tosh. He uses the disarming quality of Reggae to make the radical demand to reject peace as the enemy of justice.
While he communicates the struggle of the dispossessed in post-colonial Jamaica, what he is saying can apply to many stories around the world, like those told in the corridors of Hejcin this week. Refusing to ignore these stories can leave us feeling a little lost in our own moral world. Is my peace an affront to justice? Does my happiness leave me blind to the world?
The truth is that your happiness and peace, when you can find them, are not an affront, but rather our only hope for creating a more just world. One thing that I was taught at Sunday school can help us to find our path: ‘In everything, then, do to others as you would have them do to you.’ (Matthew 7:12).
Sometimes known as The Golden Rule, it transcends all faiths and cultures, and it is an idea that is both simple and infinitely complex; both easy to live by, and a lifelong challenge.
By living with compassion and empathy we can expand the circle of our own family and grow the warmth and comfort that we can offer others. The conditions for justice lie in a culture of respect and fairness and love, and that begins at home for all of us.
Personally, this Christmas I am driven to pass on the support and kindness that I have been shown since joining the community of Hejcin, a new kind of family where I have found an unexpected but most welcome peace.
Merry Christmas everyone.
Dominic Brucciani