Christmas – supposedly a time of peace and goodwill to all … how hard it is now to stay hopeful. Thomas Merton writing in December 1961, during the Cold War between the US and Russia, offers some thoughts:

‘Cold. There was a light snow during the night. Yesterday sleet and slush all day.

The anguish of the word “peace” in our offices. And the realization that it is totally serious, and perfectly simple. Above all our confusions, our violence, our sin, God established His kingdom no matter what “the world” may do about it. He sends the Prince of Peace. The message of Christians is not that the kingdom “might come, that peace might be established, but that the kingdom is come, and that there will be peace for those who seek it.” …

Who He is, that comes to save the world! I have not known Him. I have not realised the meaning and power of His presence in the world, nor sufficiently believed in His message of salvation. Endlessness, power above and beyond times – peace in the light of that all-powerful and tranquil majesty …

…the temptation to accept war and destruction with fatalism and indifference. I can indeed be indifferent for myself but I must not be indifferent for the rest of the world, and for the children, and for all who have a right to live in happiness and peace. To live and to say to all who would destroy peace – “You are scoundrels!” and yet recognise them to be like myself, in confusion, and in many ways good men. Perhaps in some ways better than I, but blinded and deceived. For we cannot keep peace by calling one another scoundrels …’

Reading Julian of Norwich, Merton writes later of one of her central revelations – revelations that she deeply experienced, thought about and so her life was completely absorbed by the visions – this revelation of a central dynamic secret “by which all shall be made well” at the last day. Given how life is, this is an apparent contradiction, but Merton’s prayer is to be steadfast, like Julian of Norwich, in the hope and in holding the tension of the contradiction.

‘Life is madder and madder, except that the woods and the fields are always a relief. Bright sun on the big sycamore by the mill yesterday, and light snow underfoot. And silence. Silence now also, and the night. …

Return to the sources and to silence … I feel there is not much time left for one to be learning the really important things, and I will have to trust God for all that I lack, and will continue to lack.’