Sermon: Finding peace (May 5, 2013)

Just for the record, my congregations surprised me today by wearing pink to church, to show me their love and support. How blessed am I?? They sure made it hard to preach this one without crying, looking out at all that pink... That you, God, for Bethlehem and St. Martin Lutheran Churches!

May 5, 2013

Easter 6C

John 14:23-29, Rev. 21:10, 22—22:5

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

         Several weeks ago now – the week after Easter, to be exact – we heard the Gospel text about doubting Thomas. I preached a sermon that day about doubt and fear, and how when we are in places of doubt and fear, Jesus comes to us and says, “Peace be with you,” just as he did to the fearful disciples in the upper room. That was also the Sunday after I was diagnosed with breast cancer for the second time – a fact some of you knew at the time, and some of you didn’t know until later. But here is what I have noticed: since I preached that sermon, many of you, whether in emails or in passing or while you’re walking out of church, have said or written to me: Peace be with you. You have continued to preach that sermon to me, many times over. It has been especially meaningful to me, because every time someone wishes me peace, I take notice, and hear in your words Jesus speaking to me: “Johanna, peace be with you.” It has been an emotionally tumultuous few weeks for me personally, as well as in the world, and so those words, “Peace be with you,” have been so very important to hear and to share, especially knowing that they are coming from Jesus.

         And now those words have come up again in our lectionary. This time they are not words Jesus speaks to his friends following his resurrection; rather, this time they are words that are a part of what is known as the “farewell discourse,” the long speech that Jesus offers his disciples before he is crucified. He says to them, “Peace I leave with you; 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.”

         Largely because of what has been going on in my personal life – not just cancer, but also trying to buy a house and plan a wedding! – I have done a lot of reflection lately on peace – both what it is, and where to find it. What really put me in this mode was something my surgeon said as I was trying to decide what sort of surgery to have and when. She said, “You need to be at peace about this decision. You won’t be equipped to heal and recover unless you are able to find peace.” Wise woman, my surgeon. Thus began a search for the answer to the question: what is peace, and how do we find it?

         First, what is peace. Sometimes we might think of peace as an absence of something – absence of conflict, disturbance, or struggle. That’s a reasonable definition, but I think peace is more than an absence of something – I think it can also be its own presence, too. Sometimes we may equate peace with happiness or contentedness. Those may happen at the same time, and it’s certainly nice if they do, but I would say, not necessarily. You may be at peace with a decision without being really happy about it.

         Okay, so if peace isn’t the absence of conflict, and isn’t happiness, what is it? As is often the case, it is helpful to define peace by way of its opposite, which I would call restlessness. A need unfilled, a desire unsatisfied. Anyone who has had to make a difficult decision understands this. We vacillate this way and that, weighing the pros and the cons, losing sleep over the lack of feeling settled. Or perhaps there is a conflict in your life – disagreements between family members, or trouble in your work place – and you struggle to find a resolution, again weighing all the possibilities of the source of the problem, and how it can be solved or addressed. Restlessness leaves little room for peace.

         It is in these restless times that we often look to faith. Faith does not take away our struggles, conflicts, or indecision. But it does help keep those things from overcoming us. It gives us strength to endure them. It provides a light to guide us through them. It nourishes us even as the world would try to drain us. I love the description in our reading from Revelation that describes the tree of life at the center of the new Jerusalem, the heavenly city of God come down to earth, in which God reigns. It says that the leaves of the tree of life are for the healing of the nations. Healing, of course, doesn’t refer only to our bodies. Our hearts need healing, and our minds, and our souls. Healing is something that must happen inside and out, and when God is the ruler of our lives, it becomes possible for the leaves of God’s tree of life to heal us in all the ways that we need, so that we are, finally, able to endure whatever ails us – so that we are able to find peace.

         St. Augustine, in his Confessions, has this wonderful line: “My heart is restless, O God, until it finds its rest in Thee.” And that is indeed the solution to our restlessness, and how we are able to find the peace that Jesus gives to his disciples. We find our rest, our peace, in God. So the question becomes: how do we do that?

         Our other readings today give us some clues. One of the most compelling parts of this reading from Revelation, at least for me, is this description about how in the city of God, in the time when God reigns, there will be no need for sun or moon to light our way. There will be no night, but only the perpetual light of God’s glory, with Jesus the Lamb as our lamp. The light and darkness dichotomy is an analogy we often use to describe knowledge and lack of knowledge. “I’m in the dark about what’s happening,” we say. Or we get a great idea, and we say, “A light came on.” When there is light, there is knowledge and clarity. And when God is present, as he is perpetually so in the new Jerusalem described in Revelation, we have that light and that clarity.

         But we don’t yet live in the new Jerusalem, so how do we find that light, that clarity of God here and now? One important way, of course, is through prayer. A friend of mine recently mentioned Ignatian spirituality and decision-making. I was not previously familiar with it, but have since become quite interested. It’s a process of praying through an important decision. You have a decision before you, and you lay out the different options. You pray for open-mindedness as you approach them. You make pro and con lists, and pray over those, asking which option will be most authentic to your truest self, and will best glorify God. Pray for openness to God’s will. Consider different outcomes, and pay attention to how you feel about each of them. What emotions arise? Where do those emotions come from? How would you explain how you feel about each outcome to someone else? Pray for positive feelings – for peace – about the right decision. Once you have made a decision, sit with it for a while, and see if that peace remains. If so, trust that God’s light has shown you this way. If not, try again.

         “Our hearts are restless until they find their rest in thee,” Augustine writes. “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you,” Jesus says. It is a recurring theme: the peace that can calm the restlessness of our lives comes from God, from Christ, from prayer and relationship with God. And so that we can be assured of that peace, and have it with us at all times, Jesus offers this other great gift in this farewell discourse: “The Advocate,” he says, “the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you.” Of all the names that we use for the Holy Spirit – dove, comforter, teacher, etc. – “advocate” is probably my favorite. Because what does an advocate do? Speaks on your behalf, intercedes for you when you’re in need, steps in to help when you’re in trouble. This is what the Holy Spirit does for us, you see? Jesus knows that our lives are full of restlessness, that peace is not always easy to come by. He knows that if we are left on our own to pray and to hope, that we will not be able to find that peace. And so God sends us this Holy Spirit to remind us of the peace of Christ, to comfort us in times of trouble, to intercede for us when we can’t find the words to pray, to bring us peace when we are restless and wanting. And so as Jesus says, we do not let our hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid. God’s peace is with us.

         Let us pray. God our Advocate, our hearts are restless until they find their rest in thee. Be in our decision-making, in our trials, in our conflicts, and help us to always be aware of the work of your Spirit in our lives, interceding for us and bringing peace to our hearts. In the name of the Father, and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen. 

Bethlehem Lutheran Church - even some of the dudes who didn't have pink wore pink ribbons.

St. Martin Lutheran Church - several people left before we got a picture, so this was just the left who were wearing pink.