The thing about God is that He shows up in unexpected ways, which is an odd thing to say given the fact that he guarantees to show up wherever two people gather in His name. This indicates that the issue of His presence is on our end, not His, but when we do welcome Him into anything we're doing, He's guaranteed to show up. 

There are a multitude of examples of this happening, but I want to talk about one in particular that I've loved ever since I was a kid, and that's the ceasefire of 1914. 

Some of you may already know the story, but there are many who don't, and, to be honest, I think this story isn't nearly told enough. It's a tale that's only rivaled in its beauty by the tragedy of it, but it's the tragic circumstances that make the beauty of the tale shine all the brighter, which is par for the course for God if you think about it. 

The year is 1914, and British and German soldiers are nestled in their trenches during World War I in Belgium's Bois de Ploegsteert. Heavy rain had turned the No Man's Land between the trenches into a 50-yard-long muddy cesspit, and the winter cold only added to the misery. Christmas was upon the warring Europe, and despite the best efforts of Pope Benedict XV to call a temporary ceasefire to properly celebrate Christmas, neither country's leaders were willing to stop the fighting. 

In an effort to boost morale, the German emperor, William II, sent Christmas trees to his troops on the front. It was a welcome inclusion to the dirty, muddy, frozen hell that the troops were enduring, and the soldiers began setting up their Christmas trees outside their trenches while they sang Silent Night. 

At around 10 p.m., a British soldier named Bruce Bairnsfather heard the singing. According to History.com, Bairnsfather recounts that British troops began singing Christmas carols along with the Germans. After a time, the Germans could be heard shouting:

The Germans were singing carols, as it was Christmas Eve. In the darkness, some of the British soldiers began to sing back. “Suddenly,” Bairnsfather recalled, “we heard a confused shouting from the other side. We all stopped to listen. The shout came again.” The voice was from an enemy soldier, speaking in English with a strong German accent. He was saying, “Come over here.”

Not fully trusting the Germans, one of the low-level officers told the Germans that he'd meet them halfway, forcing them to put themselves in the same potential danger. Astonishingly, that's exactly what happened. Both British and German troops began tentatively climbing out of their trenches and walking toward one another in the middle. 

Soon, they were shaking hands and exchanging greetings. Suddenly, the coldness of the war turned into warmth and goodwill. As Bairnsfather wrote, "There was not an atom of hate on either side." 

Other soldiers also recall the historic moment: 

One British soldier, a rifleman named J. Reading, wrote a letter home to his wife describing his holiday experience in 1914: “My company happened to be in the firing line on Christmas eve, and it was my turn…to go into a ruined house and remain there until 6:30 on Christmas morning. During the early part of the morning the Germans started singing and shouting, all in good English. They shouted out: ‘Are you the Rifle Brigade; have you a spare bottle; if so we will come half way and you come the other half.’”

“Later on in the day they came towards us,” Reading described. “And our chaps went out to meet them…I shook hands with some of them, and they gave us cigarettes and cigars. We did not fire that day, and everything was so quiet it seemed like a dream.”

Another British soldier, named John Ferguson, recalled it this way: “Here we were laughing and chatting to men whom only a few hours before we were trying to kill!”

From here, the German and British troops turned the would-be warzone into something of a camp for both sides. They played soccer together. They buried their dead together. A British soldier opened up a makeshift barbershop where he gave German soldiers haircuts for the cost of a few cigarettes. 

Despite low-level officers taking part in the impromptu truce, these moments were unauthorized to the point where they infuriated the brass on both sides. They began punishing soldiers for fraternizing with the enemy. Commands were issued that forbade soldiers from talking to the other side. Reports that artillery bombardments were scheduled in the areas to discourage anyone from meeting in the middle. 

What's fascinating about this is that the men on the ground wanted peace. They didn't want to see each other as monsters. They didn't want to kill. It was those in leadership positions away from the trenches, and in safe places, that had to actively institute measures that kept the peace of Christ from drifting into the battlefields and stopping the killing. 

"For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places." 

Read: It's All Cosmic Horror Without Christmas

The celebration of the birth of our Lord and Savior exposed a lie to men. His peace settled on a bloody, muddy, cold battlefield and exposed to each man that they were human, and not only human, but brothers. Even after the truce ended, fighting was awkward. It never felt the same. Fighting in some areas was done merely to satisfy reports, not for efficacy. 

God showed up, and when He did, hate, bloodthirst, and the will to kill dissipated. 

I think there's a real lesson in this story. A testament to the power of a loving God, who loves us so deeply that He sent His only son to the world as a human, and that singular act has echoed across space and time, going so far as to pause a war and make enemies into friends almost 2,000 years later. While it didn't end the war, it certainly made parts of it silent for a time. 

"Peace on Earth and goodwill towards men" takes on a whole new meaning when set upon the backdrop of blood and mud. 

I hope the peace of Christ finds you and yours this Christmas.