Unity: A gift that only Christ can give

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Human beings want to belong. We yearn to be in communion with others. We desire to be known and loved, and to know and love others in turn. In short, we want unity.

And yet, disunity and opposition define much of our lived experience. Whether within our families or friend groups, or at the level of national politics and world affairs, division and mutually-exclusive competition dominate.

Unity requires vulnerability, opening oneself up to someone else. But fear of being taken advantage of and harmed in the process leads to closed off self-preservation, or worse— the pro-active domination of others.

Individualism is one obvious instance of the abandonment of the pursuit of unity. But in our own day, we’re also seeing the rise of purported forms of unity, which bring a group together along the lines of shared affinities like racial or national identity, but do so only to compete for power with others, thwarting any movement toward unity amongst all mankind.

A chasm seems to lie between our desire for unity and our actual ability to achieve it. Is our situation hopeless? What can possibly overcome this divide?

The trenches of World War I may seem like the last place to look for an instance of the divisions of mankind being overcome. But thanks to a sensational performance of “All Is Calm” at the Ritz Theatre in Minneapolis — which consisted entirely of songs sung from the era as well as excerpts read from the actual letters of the soldiers involved — I was transported to the “western front” to witness the miraculous “Christmas Truce” of 1914.

Pope Benedict XV had actually called for an end to fighting in Europe during the Christmas season. But while the Germans accepted, the Allies declined. In fact, commanding officers discouraged any sort of clemency or fraternity shown toward the enemy.

Nonetheless, as the holiday approached, German and British soldiers along the line began singing Christmas carols across no-man’s land from their own respective trenches. And then, on Christmas Eve, something truly miraculous happened. A single German soldier climbed out of his trench and walked toward the British line, his arms raised in a gesture of openness, singing “Stille Nacht” — or “Silent Night.”

His single act of heroic self-abandonment prompted an incredible outpouring of fraternity between “Tommy” and “Fritz.” Men, who only moments earlier were attempting to kill each other, put down their arms, met in the field of battle, and exchanged gifts and well-wishes, even photos of their families and sweethearts. German and British officers swapped caps and posed for a picture. At one place along the line, all stopped to listen to a French opera star sing a Christmas hymn. There was even an account from a German soldier of a friendly match of soccer played between two sides.

Many of those who participated in the Christmas Truce remembered it as the most impactful moment of their lives. Some wondered openly if it would’ve been possible to end the Great War then and there, with the men in the trenches defying orders from on high and meeting their enemies as brothers.

Of course, that wasn’t how things played out. The truce was soon broken up by commanding officers, and the fighting resumed. In fact, in many parts along the line, no truce had been observed. One British soldier was actually shot dead as he attempted to make a gesture of Christmas generosity toward the Germans. The momentary, fragmented unity was not to last. World War I would go on to claim the lives of 9 million men.

Nonetheless, something significant did happen on the western front during that Christmas ceasefire. And while the most cynical might ascribe the truce to more mundane and material factors, those who have eyes to see cannot help but notice that the two sides shared Christianity was the source and means of their unlikely unity.

As one French soldier wrote, as he listened to the exchanges of Christmas carols from the trenches, broken by occasional gunfire, “Oh poor little God of love, born that Christmas night, how could you ever love mankind?”

It is Christ’s love that gives the only possible hope for human unity. The Fathers of the Church knew this well, and it was one of their favorite themes. “Satan has broken us up,” said St. Cyril of Alexandria, but Christ restores unity not only between man and God, but also amongst members of the human race.

National, familial, ethnic and cultural affinities aren’t bad things. In fact, they’re the means through which we live out our call to form real, concrete bonds with those in our lives. But when these forms of unity become our ultimate allegiance, they eclipse our belonging to Christ and actually undermine the quest for that perfect unity that alone can satisfy.

“All Is Calm” presented this in striking fashion, when the peace and harmony of the Christmas truth soon gave way to a cacophonic flurry of voices calling for retaliation and bloodshed, culminating with an angry cry of “God save the king!”

No king, aside from Christ, can bring us the unity we ultimately desire. Similarly, no promise of “earthly utopia” apart from a God who can rise above our fallen humanity is achievable. Only by belonging to Jesus — that “poor little God of love,” who utterly transcends the fear-based rivalries and competition of mankind, yet nonetheless became Incarnate in the midst of it, who came to us when we were still his enemies to draw all men to himself — can we overcome the divisions that plague us and enter into true communion with one another. May we receive the gift of unity Christ offers us this Christmas season.

Liedl writes from the Twin Cities.