You may recall a few weeks ago in the Sunday paper magazine insert, USA Weekend, there was an article discussing how “spiritual” we have become, and how irrelevant religion is. The article title was “When the spirit moves you,” and the cover had this plug, “You may be closer to God than you think.” Yes, indeed, you may. The world is happy to have a people who are “spiritual” but not “religious.” The world believes in a God that is not exclusive. But there is only one way to Him, one truth about him, one life in Him. And no matter what claims the world makes, God is the same yesterday, today, and forever, and no amount of finagling or coercion will alter who he is and what he expects of us. “Be holy because I, the LORD your God, am holy” (Lev. 19:2).
In today’s Gospel, Christ looks from before his passion, through the cross, to his victory. He calls us to obey even while preparing to show his own radical obedience to the Father. He said he and the Father “will come to [us] and make [their] home in us,” even as he readied for his departure, and he gave us peace. The peace of Christ is founded on the rock of Calvary.
God has given us true peace so that we can serve him and sanctify the world. Christ said, “I do not give to you as the world gives.” The peace we need is not the world’s peace. The world says: “Ever faster! Even more hectic. Find purpose in busyness. Seek meaning in sex, alcohol, travel, rest, work, and, yes, even family. If your mind is troubled, medicate! If your heart is empty despite filling it with ‘stuff’, pile in more ‘stuff’. Don’t stop to examine the deep things. Don’t ask the hard questions. If science can’t answer your questions, they’re not real.” This is the peace we find in the world.
The world’s peace is an armistice, the absence of hostility, cessation from warring, supremacy of one power over another—but never the end of war. The US has been at “peace” with China, but what does that mean? That we don’t send troops today? What of tomorrow? God’s peace is different; he doesn’t give as the world gives. As Paul wrote to the Ephesians:
“But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far away have been brought near through the blood of Christ. For he himself is our peace, who has made the two [i.e., Jew and Gentile] one and has destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility, by abolishing in his flesh the law with its commandments and regulations. His purpose was to create in himself one new man out of the two, thus making peace, and in this one body to reconcile both of them to God through the cross, by which he put to death their hostility” (Eph. 2:13–16).
Peace God’s way puts hostility to death. It beats swords into plowshares and spears into pruning hooks (cf. Is. 2:4). God’s peace reconciles differences, not by domination of one force over another, but by adherence to the one truth.
God’s peace is magnificent. “No longer will there be any curse… They will see his face, and his name will be on their forehead. There will be no more night” (Rev. 22:3,4,5). The curse is gone, done, rendered impotent! The serpent’s fangs have been torn out, his head cut off. No longer shall original sin burden man from generation to generation. The graces God gave man before the fall will be restored. The land shall yield its fruit without toil and sweat. And we shall see God’s face, not merely an apparition or his back, but God, as he is. We shall not see “a poor reflection as in a mirror. The veil shall be lifted from us.
Christ’s peace does not rid our lives of troubles, but it does keep us from being troubled. Jesus said, “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (Jn. 16:33). And Paul writes to the Romans: “We know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Rom 8:28). In Christ, there is sanctification of our suffering; there is vindication in our troubles. In CS Lewis’ masterpiece, The Great Divorce, as the author converses with his guide in the Valley of the Shadow of Life, he learns how we cannot always see rightly what we now experience:
“The Saved…what happens to them is best described as the opposite of a mirage. What seemed, when they entered it, to be the vale of misery turns out, when they look back, to have been a well; and where present experience saw only salt deserts, memory truthfully records that the pools were full of water.”
We can face troubles because Christ has given us peace, his peace. His peace tells us that this life is not the end and that we will have the Comforter, the Holy Spirit, with us. The struggles we face will not overcome us. The battles that appear lost and utterly hopeless are part of a much larger conflict, and we know that God alone will triumph. We will not get trampled down in the battle if we are with him.
The peace of God indeed passes, transcends, all understanding (cf. Php. 4:7). What’s that like? It’s like riding in an airplane, and looking down on the Rockies. Yes, they are still impressive, but no longer insurmountable, no more too much. You see things as they are. When a bump comes along, you know that another may follow, but your destination is ever in mind.
If I offered you $1,000 if only you had to let everyone here step on your foot, that’d seem like a pretty good deal, right? You a goal and you know what you have to endure to reach it. If I told you that you could have $1,000 if you allow “a lot of people” to do the same, you have less of an idea what’s going on. After the first hundred or two, you wonder what you got yourself into. And what if there are people larger than me, or wearing stilettos, or both! (Oh, my! I really don’t want you to take away the image of me in heels.) But sometimes, isn’t that how life feels. (You’re looking at me funny. We’ve moved on from that image.) You know there’s a reward at the end, but every time you think you’re up, something else knocks you down. Just when you are getting comfortable at a job, you have a pay cut, or you get laid off; you get over a cold only to get the flu; or you come through the grieving process, only to suffer another tragic loss. We need true peace.
The world doesn’t have answers for these situations. The world attributes them to fate, evolution, the workings of a grand, cosmic machine, perhaps one that was long ago made by “a god”, but a god who is now gone. Brothers and sisters, The Creator has not abandoned his creation, the clockmaker did not leave his work to run on its own. He watches over it, over us, with Fatherly care and devotion, looking for our good. God spoke through Jeremiah, “For I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm us, plans to give us hope and a future” (Jer 29:12). These words are fulfilled in Jesus, in whom is our hope, our future. In Jesus we have received every good thing, every blessing and gift from the Father. “For no matter how many promises God has made, they are ‘Yes’ in Christ. And so through him the ‘Amen’ is spoken by us to the glory of God” (2 Cor. 1:19).
Jesus not only dispels trouble and fear, but also gives peace in their place. It’s not enough to empty the heart of cares; the heart must be filled up again. So Jesus prepares his disciples (and us) for his departure by the gift of the Holy Spirit. Jesus was incarnate by the Holy Spirit of the Virgin Mary and did many marvelous works and miracles. And he sent his Holy Spirit to dwell in us so that we might do even greater things. Christ was incarnate once, yet we are Christians, little Christs, and we are given a measure of the same Spirit that rested in its fullness on Christ. You and I are walking, talking, living, breathing little-Christs in the world. Christ was prophet, priest, and king. Let’s focus on priest.
In speaking of the priesthood we can say that the priest is another Christ, that he stands in the person of Christ. The priest celebrating the Eucharist says, “This is my body, this is my blood,” and speaks not as a reminder of an old, long past event, but in the person of Christ, truly present. And when the priest pronounces our forgiveness, he does so not as a man, but through Christ.
And so where does that leave the rest of us when Fr. Tom is done? Can we stand around, let “father” be good for us, and do the “holy things” on our behalf? No! That’s clericalism. Those ordained are set apart to minister to you, for you, but they don’t do all the work of God. They are the priests to the priestly people.
Saints, you are a “kingdom of priests, a holy nation” (Ex. 19:6). Those ordained minister especially to the people of God, that is to those within the Church; but the Church ministers to the world. The priest isn’t the body of Christ, the Church is. Fr. Tom didn’t have hands laid on him so that he could fulfill the Great Commission; hands were laid on him that he could help us obey it. What did God bless Abram to do? “All peoples on earth will be blessed through you” (Gen 12:3). Are you the children of Abraham, the recipients of the Covenant, a people of blessing? Then this means you!
But what does a priest do? (“I don’t know,” is that what you said, Fr. Larry?) What does a priest do? Three major tasks. He sacrifices, he prays, and he blesses.
You know one big reason I think people don’t take the Church more seriously? Because they don't see us Christians sacrificing ourselves. As God’s priestly people, we are called to sacrifice. Jesus invites us to take up our cross and follow him. Surely praying and blessing take discipline and self-control, but sacrifice is…so sacrificial. Jesus set the standard of sacrifice, giving his life on the cross. Christ died once for all, so in one sense your sacrifice will not add anything to his. Yet St. Paul wrote the Colossians, “I fill up in my flesh what is still lacking in regard to Christ’s afflictions, for the sake of his body, which is the Church” (Col. 1:24). The world won’t know how much Christ loves it without seeing our example. If Christ truly sacrificed himself for us, can’t we love him enough to sacrifice even a little? What does that look like? The death of Pope John Paul, I believe, exemplifies public Christian sacrifice. As Parkinson’s was wrecking his body, stripping away any dignity and personal pride, he did not retreat from the public eye, but allowed the world to witness his faithful return to his Master. Even three days before his passing, he came out to bless the people. In the midst of the Terry Shiva travesty, he witnessed by a holy death.
We are God’s royal priesthood to pray for the world. When that guy (we’ll call him, “Idiot”) cuts you off on the road, don’t say that you hope he runs off the road, pray for him to drive better! When you see the disenfranchised youth walking down the street, don’t think to yourself, I thank God that I’m not like them, pray that they would be surrounded by God’s angels for their protection and guidance.
We are God’s priestly people to bless the world. What does it mean to bless? Think of the Army: Be all you can be! It’s asking God to fulfill in someone all the good things that he has for them. When you see a pregnant teenager walking into high school, don’t condemn her in your heart as a sinner and don’t just pity her, ask God to bless her. When you see a baby, don’t just say that he’s cute, ask God to cover his life with his goodness. Dcn. John will tell you, there are people here on the Eastern Shore who go around and curse. This is spiritual warfare, and blessing is not just curative, it is an offensive weapon! It reclaims, resanctifies, restores.
As we sang, shout it out, “THIS IS MY FATHER’S WORLD! God is the ruler yet.” And so, enjoying true peace from Christ, we will participate with him in sanctifying the world. Amen.
