I wanna be honest, when I started to write a piece on Love for Advent, I thought it would be easy. It wasn’t. I didn’t realize how hard it is right now, for me, to see the love in the world. So what do I do? I call out to the universe for help. I ask the ancestors, the collective, God, the powers that may be, whoever is out there listening to help. To show me. And they did.

The third week of Advent invites us to cultivate joy. Yet the notion of rejoicing in times like these might seem impossible, if not morally wrong.

It’s two weeks from Christmas: today’s reading of the Annunciation stops me in my tracks. The images on offer by Google are typically anachronistic, with Mary disturbed at her desk while reading a book, or unrealistic in their portray of some well-to-do chatelaine, draped in her blue robes, welcoming her winged visitor. My mind, in search of an image, goes to Faidah.

Following Malkhaz Songulashvili on a hike through the Caucasus mountains, one realizes that “trail guide” is yet another hat he wears. In November, the metropolitan bishop of the Evangelical Baptist Church of Georgia and pastor of the Peace Cathedral in Tbilisi welcomed an interfaith delegation of peacemakers, of which I was honored to be a part, to offer a blessing on this project for peace and justice.

The Christian people, the people of God, are a people of hope, and that is so because their God is their hope. Hope is wanting something you don't have. It is trusting that the desire will come true. It is waiting. In the biblical sense, hope is wishing, trusting, waiting, walking with a transformative praxis towards the possible. God is in us, and we are in God. It is also resistance to obstacles along the way.

In the midst of all of this bloodshed, it is easy to point the finger and to lay blame on one side. While that may help in the short term as we try to make sense of the horrors of war, our stance as peacemakers and justice seekers needs a different and better voice. There is another way forward, rooted in scripture and painted on our hearts. Jesus’ most radical words were, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” He didn’t say how, he just said to do it. He also said, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God.”

I keep thinking about a mural of Jesus in the oldest church in Beirut, Lebanon. It’s a fairly standard painting of Jesus’ judgment, except in this one there are holes in Jesus. The holes are left over from the Lebanese Civil War, a reminder of that deadly conflict that tormented the nation and its people from 1975 until 1990.

This current horrific and deadly confrontation between Israel’s powerful military and Palestinian resistance is a vivid example of reality versus propaganda. Listening to the drone of media describing the heart-breaking situation in Gaza is not enough. In addition, as a Palestinian American Christian with deep roots in Gaza, I don’t hear my story in any of the narratives.

The work of peacemaking is more important now than ever. Since Friday, Israeli forces have been carrying out raids and airstrikes in Gaza. Today, the World Health Organization warned that lack of water, caused by a blockade of humanitarian aid, will cause a public health crisis and endanger the lives of 3,500 hospital patients.

BPFNA~Bautistas por la Paz condemns the violence and war that has broken out in the State of Israel/Palestine. As peacemakers, we unequivocally condemn the actions of violence that have led to loss of life.

Executive director Jason Smith recently traveled to Chiapas in southern Mexico. He visited the Mayan Intercultural Seminary (SIM), a Peace Fund recipient led by board member Dalia Juarez, from September 3–9.

I was told from the beginning this was not going to be a “touristy” trip. The core of this delegation’s work was listening to folks on the ground. This was going to be an in-depth experience of what is really occurring in the daily lives of Israelis and Palestinians. Yes, I would see the “holy” sites, but the focus was experiencing the apartheid life of the Palestinian people.

Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer captures the power humans have harnessed for violence and destruction. As peacemakers, we know that forces stronger than these can coalesce to bring about healing, justice, and peace.

BPFNA has awarded 14 grants to support local peace projects around the world. This year’s Peace Fund cohort represents our most international group of ministry partners yet.

She didn’t look the part—if, by “part,” you mean a peacemaking, justice-seeking, human-rights-advocating activist. No growl in her voice, rarely a furrowed brow (as the stereotype suggests). I’m speaking of Olive Tiller, a co-laborer within the Baptist Peace Fellowship of North America, a friend, and source of much encouragement.

When a Christian reads in 1 Corinthians that "now we see through a glass, darkly," it takes place in the midst of an articulation of love. And what this means, practically, is this: certainty is not a Christian posture of living.

In its earliest forms, Mark's gospel ends with a terrified silence. When the disciples meet a robed man in Jesus' tomb who announces the resurrection, they "fled from the tomb ... and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid" (16:8). Like the disciples that first Easter morning, trans folks in the United States are terrified.

In December I participated in the 10th Annual National Vigil for All Victims of Gun Violence, held at St. Mark’s Episcopal Church in Washington, D.C. The vigil’s purpose is found in its name: remembering all who are victims of gun violence.

In America, wealth inequality runs rampant. This is not news. In January 2020, Pew Research found that 61% of Americans believe there is too much wealth inequality in the nation. So, the natural questions are then: why does income inequality continue to grow, and what can we do about it?

In recent days we have lived through dark times. Fear and desperation are abundant, leading us to believe that things aren’t going well. But with trust in God, problems diminish.