Little Philip, born with Down's syndrome, attended a third-grade Sunday School class with several eight-year-old boys and girl

“The Peace of God”

The Reverend Donald L. Hamer

May 13, 2007

The Sixth Sunday after Easter, Year C

Acts 16:9-15

Psalm 67

Revelation 21:10, 22 – 22:5

John 14:23-29

In 1555, Nicholas Ridley was burned at the stake alongside another priest by the name of Hugh Latimer. The two were burned because, in the ever-moving waters of religious reform during the mid-16^th century, Ridley and Latimer were considered to be too reformist – trying to be too Protestant. On the night before Ridley's execution, his brother offered to remain with him in the prison chamber to be of assistance and comfort. Nicholas declined the offer and replied that he meant to go to bed and sleep as quietly as ever he did in his life. Because he knew the peace of God, he could rest in the strength of the everlasting arms of his Lord to meet his need.

On most Sundays, the Priest Celebrant begins the final blessing with the words, “The Peace of God which passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in the knowledge and love of God . ..” Like many of the words we frequently hear or repeat here at church, as with anything to which we become accustomed, I think we can get too comfortable with them, taking them for granted, and assuming – you all remember what happens when we ASS-UME, right? – that we all mean the same thing by those words.

You may recall last week when Ian Markham and I explored the Love Theme from the Book of Revelation that we talked about the difficulties of living out the Love Commandment within the context of community. Indeed, the commandment to love one another as Christ loves us is a challenge to people who may come from various backgrounds, who may approach life with differing cultural assumptions, or who may have different expectations about parish life. The lay leadership and I have been known to differ, from time to time, on what constitutes “progress” or at what speed that should take place. It’s not that one is wrong and one is right – it relates to differing expectations, which in turn lead to differing understandings of meaning. All of these variables can complicate what seems like a simple commandment: Love one another as I have loved you.

I think this is the same case with the concept of the Peace of God. In this morning’s Gospel passage, Jesus is preparing his disciples for the time when he will no longer physically be with them. They are frightened. They don’t know what to expect. “Peace I leave with you,” he says, “my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.” As we know from the post-resurrection stories, the disciples are not at all convinced about exactly what is going to happen in the future, and they most surely do not share the same expectations. But here Jesus is telling them, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.”

This constitutes a new promise from Jesus to his disciples. This morning’s Gospel contains the first use of the word “peace” from Jesus to his disciples. It supports Jesus’ earlier promise in verse 18 not to leave his disciples as “orphans” but to send the Holy Spirit after Jesus’ departure. They will not be orphans because Jesus will leave them in his “peace.” But this peace that Jesus offers is NOT the peace that the world offers. This peace that Jesus offers is not the peace of security. It is not the peace of complacency. It is not the absence of trouble, pain or adversity. Nor is it the absence of anxiety or of uncertainty.

No, the peace that Jesus offers us is the peace that is rooted in Jesus himself, in his life, in his self-giving love. It is rooted in the love of God the Creator for Jesus, the Word Made Flesh, and in the love of Jesus for his Heavenly Father. Jesus’ offer of peace is not a signal to the disciples that they have nothing to worry about – rather it is an offer to them to share in Jesus’ own inner strength in order to prepare for the turbulent and uncertain times that lie ahead following Jesus’ departure.

We see an example of this inner strength in the passage from Acts this morning. St. Luke is recounting his travels with Paul in the Mediterranean. Paul has a vision of a man in Macedonia pleading with Paul to come and help his people. With all the urgency typical of the Gospel of Mark, Paul and Luke “immediately” set sail for Philippi, having no idea what they will encounter there – whether they will be welcomed, whether they will be arrested, whether they will be tortured. There is no Temple in Philippi, so they go to the river hoping to find some people praying. And they meet a group of people, among them a woman named Lydia. The fact that she deals in purple cloth indicates that she provides garments for royalty and the very wealthy, and that she is herself financially well off. She invites Paul and Luke and their party into her home, where she puts them up for awhile. But even Lydia’s lavish hospitality cannot protect them – they will soon wind up in jail. While chained in their prison cells, they will be freed by God and return to Lydia’s for a brief period. Ultimately, Paul will be imprisoned and be put to death. But even in death, Paul had the peace of God in Jesus Christ.

As Ian explained to us last week, the Revelation story of death and destruction leading up to a time of peace can be understood as a metaphor for the passion and death of Jesus Christ anticipating the time of Jesus’ resurrection. This morning’s Gospel passage goes the next step, and describes how Jesus passes on his own inner strength – his peace, born of his love – to us.

And so this morning’s Gospel passage poses the question, “How do we receive the peace of Christ?” “Have we received the peace of Christ?” “Is Christ’s peace the peace that we know, or is it some other peace?” Another way of asking this is, “Is Christ at the center of our inner peace, or is it something or someone else?” Some of us have peace in financial security – in a well-planned and perhaps well-financed retirement or savings plan. Some of us have peace in good health. Some of us have peace in fabulous looks and trim bodies – that’s mine, actually. Some of us have peace in our careers. Some of us have peace in the achievements of our children or grandchildren. But for some of us, peace is knowing that our baby will have warm formula, or have the assistance of a breathing machine, because the electricity has just been turned back on after the electric company turned it off. For some of us, peace can be finding a meaningful or a well-paying job after a long search. For some of us, peace can be finding a suitable and safe place to live. For some of us, peace may be knowing that we’ve saved enough money to buy our child new shoes when they grow out of their present ones.

All of these are examples of peace that the world gives, and for many of us, peace is a lot more fragile than it is for others. But whether we are just barely making it in the world, or feel that we are near the top of the world, we know in our hearts that the peace which the world offers is neither certain nor is it truly peace. As the employees of ENRON and other companies know so well, the millionaire of today can be bankrupt tomorrow. The stock market can turn and a healthy portfolio can suddenly look pretty thin. As we know all too well in our own parish, our health is always fragile and can be taken oh-so-quickly. Corporate takeovers make corporate job security a thing of the past. And our bodies – well, I think they speak for themselves.

This morning, Jesus offers us the only path to true, inner peace. And it isn’t the temporary, fragile, superficial peace that the world offers, it is the peace that IS JESUS CHRIST – a peace rooted in a love so strong that God Himself gave it in the person of Jesus Christ. The peace that Jesus gives is not the absence of trouble but is rather the confidence that Jesus is there with us always. Safety and security exist not in the absence of danger but in the presence of God. As Nicholas Ridley knew so confidently, the peace of Christ can come only when we stop relying on all of our worldly props and throw ourselves into the loving embrace and security of Jesus’ everlasting arms.

This morning when we offer each other the peace of Christ, let’s be real clear on what it is we are wishing. And let’s remember that our unity as brothers and sisters in Christ, as a community of Christian faith, exists not in whatever worldly peace we may enjoy today, but in that peace which only Christ can – and does – provide each and every one of us. Amen.