The simple irony that dawns on many people of faith at some point as we rush about, credit card in hand, is that this holy season was never supposed to be about grandiose gifts or lavish table settings. For some of us, it is about a young woman birthing God into the world in an animal stable, because there was no room at the inn. For others, this holy season is about a scant pool of oil miraculously feeding a menorah for eight days. For most of us, it is about the inward movement of the spirit as the days shorten. It is about anticipation and hope, waiting for God to do new thing in our lives.

We know better, but somehow we've been roped into the wrong cultural habits. And the tide is so strong we've opted not to resist. With every commercial proclaiming this the season of cheer, we sequester those parts of ourselves that grieve a world at war, lost loved ones, estranged families, communities in which cupboards are bare and gifts meager. 

Why is it that we are so easily swayed by media messaging? This year's political climate has boasted incendiary rhetoric over the drumbeat beckoning us to war with Iran. We know better, but somehow we've allowed fear to dominate our national discourse and determine the tone of our dialogue with the world. Perhaps the tide is so strong we've opted not to resist.      

Last week the world heaved a sigh of relief at the news that there's no excuse to go to war with Iran. An intelligence report summarizing the findings of 16 agencies, commissioned by the Democratic leadership in Congress, did not mince words when it proclaimed: "We judge with high confidence that in fall 2003, Tehran halted its nuclear weapons program... We judge with high confidence that Iran will not be technically capable of producing and reprocessing enough plutonium for a weapon before 2015." [1] Despite the tough talk of the Bush administration, which has tossed about phrases like "World War III," these intelligence findings have stripped Bush of an excuse to pursue war. How easy it has been to mislead and be misled. But the tide is turning. The credibility gap, exposed by the wrongheaded claims made to justify the invasion of Iraq, erodes further with each misstep. 

To be clear, there is reason for concern about Iran's nuclear aspirations and the bitter season of fevered communication between our nations. The report does not suggest we can kick back and relax in the struggle to eliminate nuclear weapons from the face of the earth. Most Americans grasp the vital nature of our nation's leadership in the efforts to dismantle nuclear weapons, if we want our children to live in a peaceful world. And a good leader does not lead by intimidation and inflammatory rhetoric. A good leader leads by example. 

When the people lead, our elected officials will follow. On the first day of December, I sat at a table with Muslims and Christians, as we spoke from the heart about nuclear weapons, one of the most urgent moral issues of our day. The thing about authentic dialogue is that we don't always have to agree. Around the table, we were devout people who chose different faith traditions in which to raise our families, be in community, and be in relationship with God.

Authentic dialogue does not minimize our differences, as if the headscarves worn by the Muslim women around the table were a casual choice in style. Authentic dialogue names and respects our differences, while honoring our common commitments. All of us around the table agreed to sign on to a statement authored by our respective traditions' leadership, which calls upon "the United States and other countries of the world to, gradually and in a verifiable manner, finally eliminate nuclear weapons from the face of the earth." [2] We concurred that dialogue between Muslims and Christians is essential to the peaceful world that we are all hoping, praying, and waiting for.   

Very few Christians in my community have the opportunity for regular dialogue with devout Muslims on issues that matter. In fact, I never realized how segregated our communities tend to be until I had the opportunity to talk with these Muslim women. One participant spoke of her native home in Pakistan, and her sorrow that the simple hospitality offered to American travelers in Pakistan has eroded like the good will between Muslims and Christians. We reached consensus on the conclusion that nuclear weapons are incompatible with the Muslim and Christian traditions. 

Perhaps this type of dialogue--which reaches out across the boundaries that divide us to take up an issue vital for the common good--might offer a model for our political leadership. In recent months, faith leaders have been traveling to Iran to "build a bridge of peace" between our nations. The fascinating thing about having a President who refuses to speak with nations that he deems to be "evil" is that the responsibility falls back on ordinary Americans to extend the hand of peace and diplomacy. We know all too well that the will of a nation's people is not always at one with the will of its leadership. And so I invite you into this vital dialogue that seeks the common good in the midst of our differences. I invite you to cross boundaries and extend the hand of peace. 

It is, after all, the season of hope. Theologian Cornel West recently called himself a "prisoner of hope," stating: "Hope is a qualitatively different category than optimism. Optimism is a secular construct, a calculation of probability... Hope wrestles with despair, but it doesn't generate optimism. It generates the energy to be courageous, to bear witness, to see what the end will be." [3] In this holy season, I pray that we might huddle together as prisoners of hope, waiting to see what new thing God will do among us to birth peace into the world again.