Sharing the Peace of God

Galatians 6:7-16

Luke 10:1-11

At the heart of our lessons this morning is the message of God’s peace. “Peace to this house,” was the message that Jesus instructed his seventy apostles to provide in our lesson from Luke, and, in the first lesson, Paul concludes his letter to the Galatians by writing, “peace be upon them…and upon the Israel of God.” “The peace of God,” Paul observes in Philippians, “surpasses all understanding” (Phil. 4:7), so it would be presumptuous for me to suggest that we might come to understand such a mystery through a sermon; however, we are called to abide with it, and to share in it whenever we are graced to encounter it. So let’s see if we can taste it this morning as we prepare to receive Communion.

Jesus’s contemporaries – much like our own – were not wanting peace. We heard last week that James and John wanted to call down fire from heaven on the Samaritans – the traditional enemies of the Jewish people. Similarly, the dominant understanding of the Messiah within Judaism was someone who would conquer the feared and hated Romans with all-out war.

Many of us pay lip service to “peace,” yet we can’t seem to stop ourselves from participating in the machinery of social war when we click and post and swipe on content whose sole purpose is to capture our attention with outrage and division. Too often, our aim is not mutual understanding but victory: less the pursuit of harmony with those with whom we disagree than the desire to see our opponents yield to our convictions. The pull towards conflict is subtle and cunning: it convinces us that we’re working for peace, even as we refashion the instruments of peace into weapons of our own agendas.

Five years ago, during the height of the COVID pandemic, I received an email from a colleague that struck me as both unprofessional and needlessly hostile. It wasn’t the first; I knew others who had received similar messages and been hurt by them. I brought it to the Head of School, expecting support. Instead, he cautioned me: this was a difficult employee to manage, and perhaps it was best to let it go. I was indignant. Let it go? That felt like turning a blind eye to behavior that was damaging our community. I insisted that I should say something. The Head listened to me and offered some advice: lead with questions and speak from the “I” perspective — not with accusations or generalizations. Armed with that wisdom, I began the meeting with what I thought was a question: “Have I done something to you that makes you think an email like this is appropriate?” Technically, I followed the advice, but I had missed the spirit of it. My “question” wasn’t seeking understanding; I was dressing up conflict as curiosity. How often do we do the same: cloaking our aggression in the language of peace, all while claiming innocence with hands raised, saying, “What? I was only asking a question,” or “I was only making an observation.”

Jesus’s instructions to his apostles in Luke’s gospel provide us with a roadmap to avoid the pitfalls and misdirection caused by the evil one, so that we might experience the peace of God:

"I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves. Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals; and greet no one on the road…remain in the same house, eating and drinking whatever they provide…do not move about from house to house. Whenever you enter a town and its people welcome you, eat what is set before you; cure the sick who are there, and say to them, 'The kingdom of God has come near to you.' But whenever you enter a town and they do not welcome you, go out into its streets and say, `Even the dust of your town that clings to our feet, we wipe off in protest against you. Yet know this: the kingdom of God has come near.'"

Three things stand out. First, whether the apostles are welcomed or rejected, their message remains the same: The kingdom of God is near. God’s presence does not depend on our recognition. Second, the apostles are called to be fully present where they are. They are to stay in one place, eat what is given, and engage those before them. Their mission is not to transport people to where God might be, but to awaken them to the God who has already drawn near. Lastly, Jesus’s instructions are simple: greet, remain, eat, drink, speak. Jesus doesn’t tell them to conduct great performances; there is no call for spectacle. God is revealed in faithful attention to the ordinary.

This is a simple, three-step revelation to share in the peace of God. Listen again:

1. God is near.

2. Be present where we are.

3. Pay attention to the ordinary.

One of evil’s greatest deceptions is convincing us that God is somewhere else. Once we believe that, we feel compelled to move ourselves and others toward our own imagined utopias, often using force or control. Our utopias may be religious or secular, conservative or liberal, progressive or libertarian. It doesn’t matter: all man-made utopias share the conviction that God is somewhere other than where we are. If we trust that God is already here, then our task is not to strive or to conquer, but simply to receive the peace already given.

The call to receive the peace of God was just as difficult for Jews under Roman occupation two thousand years ago as it is for us – sitting in the Church of the Ascension – today. Jesus’s observation that he is sending us out “like lambs in the midst of wolves” is sobering. Let’s not fool ourselves into thinking that our times are so exceptional that God must be calling us to pursue our imagined utopia by becoming a wolf. That’s the devil whispering, and it is meant to keep us from the peace already offered to us in Christ – who is the lamb of God.

The kingdom of God has come near. We are invited to share in His peace through the simplest of things: be present, eat, drink. God’s peace, which passes all understanding, is waiting for our outstretched hands. We are all invited to receive it.

Amen.