A sermon on John 14:23-29
“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives.”
These words of Jesus that we've heard today take place in the context of the Last Supper. He is preparing his disciples for what is to come next - his betrayal, his arrest, his death and resurrection. In the process of doing so he teaches them about the mystery of hope beyond death and the coming of the Holy Spirit. Maybe it is for this reason that in the Uniting in Worship liturgy book there is a suggestion of selected verses from John 14 as suitable for funerals.
As we dive a little deeper into the way that the passage might be interpreting our lives this morning, I want to delve into 3 topics related to the notion of the peace that Jesus leaves with us.
• First, the relationship between peace and our mortality.
• Second, the idea of being at peace within ourselves.
• And third, the importance of contemplating world peace.
I would suggest to you that the most selected passage that I have been asked to use at funerals is John 14 selected verses.
The selected verses begin with Jesus’ saying to the disciples that in his Father's house there are many rooms and that he is going to go and prepare a place for them. Later, we find the phrase that I've highlighted this morning, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.” Whilst the origin of the phrase “rest in peace” remains hidden, it seems more than likely that the imagery of this passage may have informed that saying.
The veil between life and death remains opaque. We cannot see what lies beyond the grave but within this passage there is hope at what lies for us beyond this life is peace. For any of us who have experienced the grief of the loss of someone that we love this may be our hope.
However, the idea that we might have peace in the face of our mortality is much more complicated. It brings to mind Dylan Thomas’s poem, ‘Do not go gentle into that good night’. The poem invites us to rage against death and the dying of the light. Moreover, for those of us who go on there is often anything but a sense of peace.
During the week, I was reading the ‘Red Hand Files’ written by the Australian musician Nick Cave. He responds to letters written to him by his fans. A man wrote this question:
"Three and a half years ago I lost my wife and I was left to take care of my (then 2 year old) daughter. She’s a happy little girl but I know she’s happiest when her father is happy. I’ve been finding it hard to find happiness. It’s not my loss – I made peace with that a while back. I just haven’t found my life again."
For those of you who know Nick Cave’s story you will be aware that he has lost two of his own children. Within his response Cave notes how loss has changed his life and he writes:
“Grief is beyond our control; it is omnipotent and invincible and we are miniscule in its presence and when it comes for us, all we can do is to kneel before it, heads bowed and await its passing.”
I can’t but help think of Jesus ay Lazarus tomb when Jesus wept. Cave goes on to offer these somewhat hopeful words.
“We are alone but we are also connected in a personhood of suffering. We have reached out to each other, with nothing to offer, but an acceptance of our mutual despair.”
This sense of not being alone amid our grief and despair stood out to me as I contemplated the notion that in Jesus God connects with our personhood and with our suffering as he experiences death. And, more than that, within the passage Jesus promises “Those who love me will keep my word, and my Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them.”
These words serve as a paradox and mystery to the opening words of John 14 when Jesus says he will go ahead to prepare a room in his Father's house. Through the power of the Holy Spirit described in the passage it appears that the home of God, the Father’s house, is within us. In the moments that we feel as if we have been abandoned by God, we can remember that God in Jesus has felt the same as us on the cross. And, that in life and in death God makes God’s home within us.
This is the mystery of grace: “I do not give to you as the world gives.”
Maybe the peace that we receive in such moments surpasses all our understanding for we do not fully comprehend it of even feel it but can only seek after it with our broken hearts.
This brings me to share with you about having peace within ourselves. There is an often-quoted passage which has its origins in Leviticus 19:18. "Love your neighbour as yourself." This is a fine teaching, but I can't help but wonder what happens when we don't love ourselves. And possibly more problematic than that, is the words that we read today “Those who love me will keep my word”. But what happens when we struggle to love God with all our heart and mind and soul? Surely such doubts about our love of God and neighbour are a source of disquiet and bring anything but peace.
Reading the scriptures more broadly can help us on this point. In a sermon that I shared with the congregation a few weeks ago I explored the complex relationship between Jesus and Peter and the limitations that appeared to be present in Peter's capacity to love Jesus. In his final interaction with Jesus, Peter is not to be express unconditional love for Jesus. Peter can only express love within the limitations of his own existence.
The words of 1 John 4 serve as an invitation for us to remember that “We love because he first loved us.” Added to Peter’s interaction we love from the paucity of our capacity to do so. We do not love God to earn God’s love or to be accepted by God but because God is love and in him, we live and move and have our being. In this we too can become love. The good news for each and every person is that starting point for our lives is that we are already loved and we can love God and each other.
This message of acceptance is so important against the backdrop of a culture that sees people struggling to find their meaning and place in the world. We search for identity in the things that we do and the way that we express ourselves – we look to earn our validity. I wonder whether the pressure to define our own existence through our achievements and our identity contributes to the massive challenges that we are having with mental health issues. In Australia one on five people are experiencing mental Health Issues. How do we find a sense of peace when we seek it from trying to define ourselves and earn our place in the world.
God’s starting point with us is different. It is grace, it is love and it is forgiveness. At Synod one of the Bible studies explore Isaiah 42 which reminds us of God’s promise: “I have swept away your transgressions like a cloud and your sins like mist; return to me, for I have redeemed you.” (Is 44:22) Paul later wrote in Romans “Christ died for us while we were yet sinners.” Grace precedes repentance. We turn to God to discover we are already loved and forgiven. Andrew Peterson captures the encouragement to look beyond our self-doubt to God’s love in the song, “Be kind to yourself”.
The third issue that I wanted to explore with you is the answer from the beauty pageant contestant when they are asked what they most want. The stereotyped answer given is “World peace.” As shallow as this sometimes sounds our personal sense of peace and wellbeing should be balanced with a concern for what is happening in the world and in the lives of other people.
Over the years many people have said to me that they do not watch the news because they want to avoid the bad news. And I realise that there are times that we cannot carry the weight of the world on our shoulders because of what is going on in their own lives. However, Jesus is the eternal Word of God and as Paul describes in Colossians the cosmic Christ. Our personal sense of peace and wellbeing should not come in isolation or abstraction from what is occurring in the world. Tomas Halik reminds us that “the manifestation of true faith, according to the prophets, is to ‘take in the orphan and stand up for the widow.’
Faith in God releases us from the need to find ourselves and justify our own existence and live loving others. As people who love God, we might well ask ourselves, ‘What does love look like as we contemplate what is unfolding in Palestine or in Ukraine? What does love look like when we consider nations who are beset by poverty? What does love look like as we watch the flood unfolding in NSW? What does love look like for the creation which is crying out? Last week Michelle raised issues about domestic violence in our culture?
The words of Jeremiah confront us
For from the least to the greatest of them,
everyone is greedy for unjust gain;
and from prophet to priest,
everyone deals falsely.
They have treated the wound of my people carelessly,
saying, “Peace, peace,”
when there is no peace. (Jerimiah 6:13-14)
How do we reconcile Jeremiah’s words with Jesus’ teaching, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives.” How do we live the peace which has been given to us as a gift? How do we experience and be part of God’s peacemaking in the world? For, as Jesus taught, blessed are the peacemakers.
Maybe the best that we can do is from our fallibility and limitations join in prayer of St Francis Lord, make me an instrument of your peace and be open to the God whose presence and peace is already within us.
As always, I invite a moment of silence to reflect on the one thing which has stood out for you. I encourage you to take on board the notion that I is personal not private and this worthy of sharing with others. I also encourage you to consider that if someone shares with you, they are being vulnerable so listen with openness and grace. Listen conscious of Jesus injunction, ‘Do not judge.’ After a few moments of silence, I invite you to recite the words of the Pray of St Francis with me.
Prayer of St Francis
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace, Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy; O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen.