April 30, 2006 - Third Sunday of Easter - Mother Stephanie Parker

FIRST READING: Acts 3: 12-29
PSALM: 4: 1-8
SECOND READING: 1 John 3: 1-7
GOSPEL: Luke 24: 36b - 48

Pick up any newspaper, or listen to any newscast on television, and you will rarely hear about peace breaking out. Typically, they will tell you that, all over the world, more and more conflict seems to occur every day. The war in Iraq is intensifying; Iran is poised for nuclear proliferation; Israel and Palestine are still locked in continual conflict; and, in the Darfur region of Sudan, though the world seems reluctant to admit it, innocents are, yet again, suffering the soul-stealing pain of genocide.

And, here on our own home soil, we are currently experiencing the deep pain and conflict over the complex questions of national belonging. There are those who will boycott and march in the streets tomorrow, and they are asking: Are we still a country built on the blood, sweat, toil, and tears of immigrating peoples, or, in fact, for some of us, has the American dream become a nightmare?

And there will be still others at this very same boycott and protest who will, themselves, be protesting against those who are entering into the boycott. They will do so out of a possible fear of losing something to others that they feel they have worked so hard to gain for themselves.

"Peace be with you", Jesus says to His disciples.

And, beyond our current national issues of borders and immigration, it would seem that there is precious little peace to be found, even in our work-a-day lives. Statistics would tell us that sitting among us here today are families who are trapped in an endless cycle of physical and emotional abuse. We can also be sure that there are homes that we share here, together, where the peace is shattered by the painful presence of substance abuse. We know that there are relationships that have failed, and we have relationships that are failing. We know people, sitting among us, who still have open wounds of grief for a loved one that they have lost. There are places in our lives and in our homes, both large and small, where it seems as if there is no peace.

And yet, "Peace be with you", Jesus says to those who follow Him.

Now, in our hearts, I know some of us have the feeling that life hasn't gone just right, or that, somehow, we will find that peace of mind we seek with the next promotion, or the next move, or maybe even the next possession. Yet, somehow, no matter what, peace seems just out of our grasp - elusive and hard to hold.

Now, if asked, each of us might define peace in a variety of ways. We can certainly define it as the lack of conflict or aggression that we might all envision as that glorious world peace. We could define peace as security - the security to be able to walk our streets safely at night, without fear of being harmed - or some of us might describe peace as a feeling of satisfaction or contentment in our personal lives.

Regardless of how we define it, envision it, or describe it, what we seem to want most is peace, but, again, it eludes us, it seems, more times than we have it. We still live with restlessness and fear, and we still live with constant anxiety and worry.

So did the disciples.

Even as they hear about Jesus' resurrection appearance from those who traveled with Him on the road to Emmaus, Jesus appears to them. Their response is, quite naturally, one of terror and disbelief. It would, after all - and think of this - it would take a little getting used to. They did see this man crucified and dead and buried, and, yet, here He is again, in flesh as real as their own, with the wounds of His crucifixion still visible and present on His body. Certainly, their fearful joy had to be born of trying to reconcile these two irreconcilable facts - that Jesus, this man they loved, was dead, but that, in fact, He is alive.

Have you ever been afraid or doubtful that something in your life, some experience, something really important to you, was just too wonderful to really be true? In your heart, you wanted to believe it, and you trembled toward it; but your mind said, "Hold up! Don't trust it! Don't believe it!" Well, I have to think that this was just such a moment in the lives of these disciples._

But, Jesus appears to them because He needs them. He needs them, and He needs us. He needs us to know that His very real presence is still alive and at work in the world. He needs to impart that He has conquered the powers of death and darkness, so that we, God's beloveds, can live in the light. In the Light of Christ, there is no doubt or fear that we need ever again let have power over us.

This is the peace that Jesus brings.

This peace is not the mere absence of conflict. Jesus is resurrected in a world that knows lots of conflict and violence. Nor is it that security we talked about. Jesus sends the disciples out into a world that is often very hostile to their message, and, indeed, as we know, many of Jesus' early followers died horrible and violent deaths while seeking to proclaim the Good News.

This peace that Jesus brings is rooted in the Hebrew concept of Shalom. Shalom is a state of social and spiritual completeness and abundance that is not dependent upon the absence of conflict or on our own material needs and circumstances. Think about it - Jesus, Himself, was the incarnation of Shalom while He walked among us. Look at His life. The certainty - and I believe this with all of my heart - the certainty and trust we saw Him display in His earthly life was not based on material wealth, because we all know He didn't have any. And we certainly have borne witness to the fact that it wasn't the thought that He felt personally safe, because He was persecuted almost from the moment He stepped into His ministry. Or even - and I will argue this fact; I invited the 8:00 people the same; come to the Parish hall for coffee hour, and I will argue this fact with you - I don't think Jesus' certainty or love had anything to do with any concept He might have had of His own divinity. The peace that Jesus gives to us is based on the sure and certain knowledge that God's love is present even in the most conflicted and tangled places of human misery - not simply as a silent companion, helping us to bear our pain (though He is that, as well), but as a life-giving force, defying the power of that pain to rob us of God's promise of wholeness and abundance, no matter what our life brings, and particularly in those moments when we feel less than perfect.

Shalom. God's peace.

Christ teaches us that true peace, God's peace, does not mean the absence of struggle, but the presence of love._ I love that phrase; it is from Fred Buechner, and I am going to say it again. Christ teaches us that true peace, God's peace, does not mean the absence of struggle, but the presence of love._

True peace does not begin with job security, contentment, or regular vacations - although, all of those are wonderful things! - God's peace is far more substantial. It begins with the deep thanksgiving and gratitude that springs from a constant awareness that Christ is alive and among us - here, now, always - and that, through the power of the Holy Spirit, we receive the sustenance, guidance, courage, and compassion that we need to be peacemakers in the world.

This peace, I believe, is born of an encounter - an encounter between the human heart and the selfless love of God in Christ. The peace that Jesus brings is a peace that draws us way from ourselves and our self-absorption, and toward God. It is a peace that has the power to enter the fragile human heart, with all of its pain and all of its sorrow, and all of its conflict, and transform this fragile instrument into an instrument of God's love - this fragile organ of thought for the Hebrews into an instrument of God's love.

This is a peace that moves out from us like ripples of water. This peace flows from the trust that Christ can and will heal our pain. This peace gives us the courage to be reconcilers in our families and in our communities. Trusting in Christ's love and promise of forgiveness, we can expose all of our fearful places of failure, and rejection, and even that niggling voice that maybe we are just not good enough - we can take all of these things and expose them to the bright light of God and put guilt and shame and feelings of inferiority to flight, once and for all. This is the gift that God's love has won for us. This is the freedom, and, in this newfound freedom, won for us by Christ, what do we do? We become peacemakers. We become the bearers of Christ's presence in the world in which we live. Christ's bidding of "Peace be with you" continually calls us away from the anger, the violence, and the conflict born of mistrust and fear; and it calls us ever steadily toward Christ. Christ is the one who continually forgives, and, in that forgiveness, our burdens of fear and anxiety are lifted, regardless of the imperfections of the life we live.

This encounter with the risen Christ and His call to join Him in His reconciling work in the world also takes place in community. Our ability to share Christ's love with one another is our greatest witness to the world. What does Jesus tell His followers? "They will know that you belong to Me by the love you show for one another". They will know we are Christians by our love.

Think about this as we exchange the peace with one another today. Some of you may have noticed, in your service booklet, that the invitation to exchange peace with one another is slightly different. (And, for those of you who want to go to your bulletins now, go ahead; I'll wait. I think it is somewhere around page 7; I don't want you to miss these next couple of sentences!) So, you look at the service invitation. Now, in the invitation that you see, the substance of it hasn't really changed, so much as it has become more accurately descriptive of what it actually means for us to exchange the peace of Christ with one another.

This moment in our worship together is meant to be far more than a simple exchange of pleasantries or a time to socialize with friends in the midst of the service. In fact, it was actually never, ever meant to be that. It is, in fact, the way in which we remind each other that we are the Body of Christ. When we exchange the peace, it is our commitment to reconcile and be reconciled with one another, in love, as we prepare to join one another around this incredible table. It is meant to remind us that we are part of Christ's loving and living presence in the world.

In offering one another God's peace, we encounter the very presence of Christ, alive, and among us, and in us, and in one another. The early Church felt so strongly about the exchange of peace - and for those of you who may wonder; it didn't appear in 1979; it was actually re-captured from the very earliest liturgies we have; and we read about it all the time in Paul's Gospel - so the early Church felt so strongly about the exchange of peace that priests could not give communion to those who held resentment for one another or would not exchange the peace with another before they approached the Eucharistic table. They understood that the exchange of peace is meant to bring to this present moment what the disciples experienced as they encountered the living Christ in their midst just days after they had seen him brutally murdered. When we exchange the peace, we become the incarnation of Shalom. We become the incarnation of Jesus' promise that, though we may know fear and conflict and anxiety and suffering, as long as we gather in communities like this, we are never truly alone or lost in this world.

In embracing one another, we embrace, with certainty, the love of Christ, alive and at work among us. In this love, there is no fear than can bind us - not the fear of rejection, not the fear that we are not good enough, and certainly not the fear that some of the craziness of this world will ever have the final say.

Jesus stands among us and says, "Peace be with you".

You are witnesses to these things. Jesus told us in this morning's Gospel. He reminds us this morning that we bear God's peace into the world. We bear God's peace into the world, having witnessed and known it for ourselves.

So, God's peace is not, after all, simply the silence of guns after the battle, or a promise that we will never know pain in our loves. It is, in fact, the joy of Christ's reconciling love, painfully embraced in the midst of a broken world. And, of one thing I am certain - it is also an unassailable witness to God's love for all of humankind.

Peace be with you.


_ Fred Buechner, Wishful Thinking

_ Lectionary Homiletics, Pat Mott