Peace Be With You – Homily from the Sixth Sunday of Easter
Suppose we had a time machine
and we traveled back in time
to talk to Simon Peter before he met Jesus.
And what if we asked him,
“What would a peaceful life look like to you?”
I wonder what he might say.
Maybe he’d say,
“Well, a peaceful life would be one
where my fishing business would continue to thrive.
I would catch lots of fish each day, sell them all,
and support my family comfortably.
My wife and I would live in harmony
and raise our children to be good people
and to marry good people,
and give us lots of grandchildren,
who would go home with their parents at the end of the day.
That would be a peaceful life.
And then, after building the fishing business into a successful organization,
retire, and hand that business over to my sons,
and after watching the grandkids grow up to have families of their own,
pass away quietly, surrounded by my loving family.
That’s what I call peace,” he might say.
But then if we traveled into Simon Peter’s future
and looked at the life of St. Peter after he met Jesus
we would see that his life didn’t turn out that peaceful at all.
We might step out of our time machine at the council of Jerusalem,
which we read about in the Acts of the Apostles today.
We would witness dissension among the disciples,
arguing, and debating.
And there would be Peter in the center of it all, trying to be a leader.
Trying to be be the rock that Jesus named him.
And if we got back into our time machine
we could follow Peter’s life and see him arrested,
imprisoned,
killed.
So Peter did not get a peaceful life.
And yet, in the gospel today we hear Jesus tell his disciples,
“Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you.”
What happened to Jesus’ promise of peace?
Did Jesus fail to carry through on his promise
to Peter and the other disciples?
Because Peter’s experience was not unique.
All of the disciples spent the rest of their lives
getting arrested, being accused of blasphemy
for trying to spread the gospel,
living lives that were anything but peaceful.
Being a disciple of Jesus had turned their lives upside down.
And if we got back in our time machine
and traveled all the years that have gone by
since Christ’s death and resurrection,
we would see countless generations of saints and martyrs
whose lives were far from peaceful.
Where is this peace that Jesus promised to give to his disciples?
This is an important question;
because if Jesus promised peace to his disciples,
he’s also promised it to us.
But our lives often don’t seem very peaceful.
Bullying on the playground,
sudden catastrophic illness,
corruption in business and government,
religious freedom threatened both here and in other countries,
terrorism and war.
Even in the church there are disagreements,
just as there were in Jerusalem all those years ago.
Where is the peace we have been promised?
Answering that question begins by looking first at the word itself, peace.
In Hebrew, the word is shalom, and it has great depth of meaning.
Shalom, or peace, is one of those words like love
that’s used in many different ways.
Sometimes we use peace to describe a situation
in which countries are not at war.
If countries aren’t engaged in battle, then we say they’re at peace.
We also use the word peace to refer to a calm state of mind.
A current practice that is very popular right now to handle stress
is the practice of mindfulness,
a kind of paying attention to the present moment,
which brings about a certain peace in our bodies, in our minds.
And we say things are peaceful
when things are calm around us,
when we’re sitting on the beach,
or at home reading a book,
or maybe coloring in those new coloring books for grown ups.
The word peace is used in many different contexts
and in many different ways.
But none of these are the way that Jesus uses the word peace today.
In today’s gospel, in this particular situation,
the word peace has a very particular meaning.
Jesus is not talking about the absence of conflict
or a state of calm
or being comfortable.
Jesus is telling his disciples goodbye;
this is the point in John’s gospel
where Jesus is making his farewell speech.
He is about to be handed over and crucified,
and he has some last words for his disciples.
The portion we heard today is from the middle of that speech.
If we go back to the beginning,
Jesus starts the speech by saying, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.”
He’s about to go away,
and he foresees that his disciples will be upset,
will be fearful, will be afraid.
And he’s trying to address their fears.
And so when he says “Peace I leave you, my peace is my gift to you,”
he is giving them a gift to help them through their fear.
His peace is the antidote to a troubled heart.
He doesn’t promise them that they won’t have tribulations;
he doesn’t promise them that their life is going to be calm or comfortable;
he doesn’t promise them that their life is going to move smoothly
from one stage to the next.
What he does promise them is a gift
to help them face those challenges with confidence.
And that gift is the Holy Spirit.
Jesus doesn’t promise his disciples a smooth life,
but he does promise them his presence
to get through the difficulties that life brings:
the gift of the Holy Spirit.
And what Jesus says to his disciples he says to us.
Being a faithful disciple, coming here to Mass, serving the poor,
trying to be good parents and grandparents,
being an honest worker,
living a clean life,
all these things that we do,
they do not guarantee a life free of conflict or turmoil;
they don’t guarantee a life of prosperity.
In fact, in many ways they lead to the opposite.
Being a disciple of Christ can lead to heartbreak;
being a disciple of Christ can lead to inconvenience and discomfort,
and can leave us feeling afraid.
But that doesn’t mean peace isn’t possible.
Sometimes it’s the toughest circumstances
that make real peace possible
that lead to the deepest peace.
Jesus’ gift of the Holy Spirit grounds us in God’s love
so that we can face the turbulence,
so that we can face our fears with confidence,
with the inner peace of knowing that God loves us
and that one day we will dwell in eternal peace.
It’s as if Jesus said, “The Holy Spirit I leave with you,
the Holy Spirit is my gift to you.”
In two weeks we celebrate Pentecost,
the fulfillment of Jesus’ promise to the disciples and to us.
This scripture has been fulfilled in our presence.
The Holy Spirit is here, among us and within us.
Through our baptism and confirmation,
we have received the gift of the Holy Spirit.
But a gift given is not necessarily a gift received or used.
Jesus said, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.”
We let our hearts be troubled
when we choose not to accept or collaborate with the gift of the Holy Spirit,
or, more commonly,
when we forget that the Holy Spirit has been given to us.
Christ’s peace does not depend on what goes on around us.
There are people living a calm, comfortable life on the outside
who are not at peace within.
And there are people living in turmoil
who know the peace of Christ intimately.
The difference lies in trusting that Jesus’ words are true.
He went away as he said he would,
and he came back as he said he would.
The Father has sent The Advocate, the Holy Spirit,
just as Jesus said.
It is possible to live Christ’s peace
in the midst of the chaos of life.
Christ’s peace is a gift for all people at all times and all places,
regardless of circumstances.
As we go through life in the midst of the chaos that surrounds us,
those who hold fast to that truth
will be able to draw on the gift of the Holy Spirit
to be the calm at the center of the storm
and bring Christ’s peace to the world.
If we got back into our time machine one final time
and visited Peter, James, Paul, and all those saints
who were martyred for their faith,
it might look from the outside that their lives were nothing but
trials and turmoil.
But if we spoke to them just before they died,
we would see in their eyes and hear in their voice
an inner peace that could only come from Christ,
a peace that is given to each one of us.
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