Sermon, Easter 6 (C)

 This morning’s Gospel starts with Jesus answering a question….

And we don’t know what the question is!
So let me clarify that.
Jesus has been sitting with his friends, at a rather famous dinner party, and he’s just invited them to be okay with what is happening – and about to happen – in his life, and in theirs. This is the start of what’s called the Farewell Discourse: where Jesus is not only trying to say his good-byes at that Last Supper, but also to convey that they will fare well – they’re going to be okay despite the enormity of change ahead of them.

And they have questions. Logically! They’re doing their best to understand concepts that are really hard to grasp. Several of them speak up, as they’d like some specifics to the broad strokes notions that Jesus is referencing.
He’s told them to not let their hearts be worried; to trust that God’s house has many rooms; that the Spirit of truth is coming even though the world can’t receive it (but that they can).
It’s a lot to take in.
And just before today’s passage, the question posed is this: “Lord, how is it that you will reveal yourself to us, and not to the world?”

It’s a great question. How will Jesus be revealed in the world?
And – of course – Jesus has a great answer: through love.
Love is a verb: it’s not passive; it means actively following the commandments of God, to do what is right by God and right by the community.
It’s about living in faith, for the benefit of others: not in-fighting or back-biting, not squabbling about who’s best, not gossiping or mud-slinging, not any of those behaviours that we’ve seen in the disciples – as they’ve been jockeying for position compared to each other, and as they’ve had their hearts close towards the “other” that Jesus has called for them to love.
We’ve seen their very human behaviours.
And these are the same behaviours that we can sometimes see in ourselves and our communities, when we bravely spend time in self-reflection.

But note: Jesus knows this. He knows that the very human nature of competition and individualism – he knows these things happen.
But he’s trying to direct the disciples into a better way – a healthier way – a holier way.

And he knows – God knows! – that it’s not always successful. It’s why he reminds them of what he has taught them.
And he says he knows they’ll forget the teachings – which is why the Spirit, the Advocate – will be coming to remind them of everything they’ve been taught.

Well, thanks be to God; for every disciple, every follower of Christ, in every time! who is able to hear that we will be reminded of the teachings of Jesus.
To love. To hope. To be comforted – and comforting.
It is in this environment that Jesus offers all his disciples a new gift:
The peace of Christ.
“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.”

A number of things to note about these promises, which are powerful and should fill our hearts with joy.
Jesus starts by saying he will leave his peace: suggesting the peace has already been given.
He continues that he gives his peace: a real and present gift,
And the verb also connotes that he WILL give his peace - a blessing for the days to come.
So the peace of Christ is timeless: it is of the past, the present, and the future.
What a blessing.

And Jesus articulates that this is a peace that is different from a worldly peace.
We know that peace in the world is a good thing: in times of conflict, it’s the cessation of hostilities: a reality for which we pray.
Within our broader society, it’s a lack of civil unrest, a state of security and order.
In a personal capacity, it’s freedom from distressing or oppressive thoughts and feelings, or harmonious relationships.
Peace: sweet peace.

Peace is good. This worldly understanding of peace is – good.
And Jesus offers a peace that is beyond that worldly peace. That is beyond… good.
Because the peace that is being offered here is more intransitive: it’s not tied to one place or time or person or community; it’s a state of being. It’s a silence or quietness that is more than the absence of an audible noise. It’s the stillness of the soul that we all aspire to. It’s the knowing that everything is going to be okay: even without knowing how, or when, or what “okay” will look like.

This peace is not an individual reality: it’s a shared peace. For the peace of God that is given – and is being given – is a gift to the whole community.
And it is the opportunity of all to ensure it is being met.
So if one household is unwell, it is the privilege and obligation to work together to achieve and attain it for all. For none of us can benefit from peace when some of us do not have peace.
The peace of Christ is about who we are; and who we are becoming.

It is so fitting that Jesus shares this with the disciples on the night before his arrest; he is offering to them that holy peace that they will need for the days to come.
He is also offering them peace as the foundation for their lives ahead.
For he knows that change is coming: for him, for them, for the world: forever.

And he knows that many humans resist change. His disciples have shown him that time and again, as they have tried to stay in the past where the “old times” are remembered as a golden age of perfection, and any suggestion of change is automatically rejected – regardless of the way that Jesus says change is inevitable and can be good.

So Jesus invites his followers to embrace those inevitable changes from a place of peace.
The peace that is their state of being; the peace that holds their community together; the peace that grows from their faith.
It is this peace that Jesus gives, the peace that is stronger than the peace of the world; a peace that is more durable, more encompassing, more reliable than the peace of the world.

The peace that is given to all, and is never taken away.
A peace that commands our hearts to be still, to release their troubles, to relinquish our fears.
A peace that passes all understanding – and all questions.
A peace that inspires action: for it is a peace to be shared.
And so it has inspired: it inspired Paul to go to Macedonia and share the Gospel there.
It was shared with Lydia – who was inspired to be baptised, and went on to do amazing ministry in her community.
It’s the peace that gives us the hope of the holy city of God, with open doors and welcome and healing for all.
… that same peace that invites us to build this city.
It’s the peace that draws us together as the people of God: in our many ways and places.
It’s the peace that we too can carry into OUR community: when we choose to.

So this Sunday I invite us to live in the peace that has been given us:
A peace that calms our unrest and invites us into new and exciting possibilities, where we can use that peace to spread the Good News of God, to commit to the well-being of the community, to make this world a more holy and peace-filled place.
I pray that this peace – which is already ours – may be deeply embedded in our hearts and reflected in our lives.
The peace of the Lord be always with you. Amen.