That Marvelous Peace of God
A sermon given by the Rev. Christine Gowdy-Jaehnig on December 15, 2024, the third Sunday of Advent.
Zephaniah 3:14-20 * Canticle 9: Isaiah (12:2-6) * Philippians 4:4-7 * Luke 3:7-18
When creating a website for Grace during the Pandemic I, and those working with me, created a page about worship, including our use of the Book of Common Prayer. It ends with the words: “The Collects, Songs of Praise, [and] Eucharistic Prayer . . . are all saturated with Biblical words and phrases. The Bible forms and shapes our worship.” Today, in our Epistle, we have an example of this: “… and the peace of God which is beyond our understanding will guard your hearts and your thoughts in Christ Jesus.” These words of Paul have become the default blessing at the end of the Eucharist. What is this Peace of God that is so precious that we bless each other with its presence before we pass through the red door and return to a world that does not know God’s Peace?
There is a certain peace that exists when a battle has been fought and won. In the OT, there are many stories that tell of wars and battles, and the peace that follows never seems to last very long. While the end of armed conflict is always desirable, the peace of God is not simply the absence of strife. There are many other forms conflict can take. The Romans and many others through the years have held up the Pax Romana for applause. Yes, the name contains the word peace, but the Romans achieved it through a number of strategies, including the threat of crucifixion, heavy taxes, and by the forceful removal of people from their homes to be settled elsewhere. Martin Luther King, Jr., spoke of peace in his last sermon: “All of the great military geniuses of the world have talked about peace. … as a distant goal, as an end we seek, but we must come to see that peace is not merely a distant goal … it is a means by which we arrive at that goal.” Any Peace that comes with terror and oppression attached is not the Peace of God.
There is another kind of peace that we experience when the battle has been fought and lost. Yes, there is a cessation of large scale military violence, and swords or guns are laid down (at least by the losers), but the peace that follows is darkened by bitterness and grief, exhaustion, rage or resignation, for hostilities still exist –inside hearts and minds. When the heart is grieving, hating and raging, that is not the Peace of God.
There is another kind of peace which we experience when we go on a retreat or spend the day fishing in a trout stream. This peace envelopes us when we get away from the world’s hubbub and nothing much is required of us. We might try to recapture this state of serenity by hanging up a calendar with views of mountains with a cascading river in the foreground. If we were in high school or college, we might put up such a poster with a nice quote on it, too. We all need times of peace like these, but this peace is perfectly understandable, and is not the Peace of God.
There is also the peace of indifference and ignorance; a static state in which we are not disturbed by anything. When our hearts are carefully wrapped in cotton-wool and placed in a locked chest, then we will know a peace of sorts, but it is not the Peace of God.
The peace of God that Paul is writing about is different than all of these:
It is not an escape from struggle.
It is not a denial of struggle.
It is not what occurs only after the struggle is over.
It is the peace that exists in the midst of life and all its messiness. David Jones was a young man who joined the Royal Welsh Fusiliers in 1915. He served on the western front for just over two years. One day as he was scavenging for wood, he came across an abandoned shed or small barn. In the pauses between the roars of the big guns, he heard voices coming from building. He put an eye to a hole and saw within a small group of soldiers with a chaplain, who was saying Mass. Jones was deeply effected by his glimpse of a small cluster of men engaged in worship, who were experiencing peace in the context of soul destroying chaos and violence.
Peace is knowing which story you are in and finding your place in it. At Christmas we celebrate a joyous part our sacred Story: the arrival of the Son of God, whom is also called the Prince of Peace. Jesus taught and healed and fed and liberated and called many to follow him into the Kingdom of God. But he was sometime met with fear, offense, and anger, and those with power turned to violence and had him executed. Days later he reappeared in a glorious new physical form and continued his teaching but eventually left to go ahead of us to our Parent’s house, promising to return. In this Advent season, we look ahead to Jesus’ return; we look behind towards the manger. This is our Story and this is our place in it: we are the beloved children of God and siblings and disciples of Jesus. And here we stand, in-between, on the threshold, keeping faith until Jesus comes again.
Jesus taught (and continues to teach) his followers the Way of Peace. Jesus said, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God.” Peace-making children of God respond to violence, hatred, and persecution like Jesus: by turning the other cheek. This leaves us open to derision and scorn, because such a refusal to return hurt for hurt, such an acceptance of suffering as part of discipleship, and this willingness to accept humiliation if it includes a chance to save one’s tormentor … why, it makes no sense, for we live in a world that admires physical strength and beauty, technological prowess, and professional, social and economic success. It urges us to be competitive and get what we want even if it means climbing over the bodies of our neighbors.
The Peace of God is beyond the reach of human reason. Our reasoning faculty is very good at dealing with information and knowledge. It looks for patterns of cause and effect, and weighs options and calculates value. But what is the value of steadfast kindness? What is the cause of God’s love for us? And what of this Peace that can exist in the midst of war, be known when a job has been lost and the cupboard is empty, and can be found in a home in the presence of heart failure and childhood cancer? To those on the outside of faith, God’s Peace is not intelligible. It is supra-rational; we might even say irrational, but what a blessing it is to know it.
Isaiah drew a beautiful picture of this peace when he said that the lion will lie down with the lamb, and a child will play near the adder and not be harmed; enemies will be reconciled and flourish beside each other. Let us pray for this marvelous Peace of God:
God of bountiful grace and mercy;
open our hearts to receive your Peace;
be a light to all people, especially those suffering the pain and darkness of war;
soften hearts, give perseverance, send wisdom to all in conflicts;
and grant us not simply a cessation of violence but the gift of reconciliation.
This we pray through Jesus Christ, the Prince of Peace. Amen.