5/22/22

6 Easter C  2022

In the name of God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

There’s so much going on in the world, in our nation, and in our churches and neighborhoods right now.  We continue to watch in horror the Russian invasion in Ukraine.  Refugees are flooding into other countries not only from Ukraine but also from Afghanistan, and parts of Central America, and other areas of the globe.  Sometimes there are tensions in countries that receive the refugees / because large numbers of new and different people may feel like a threat. 

Many adults in this country continue to treat those who aren’t of the same political opinion / as losers / or people to be scorned.  (That’s true for people on both sides of the aisle.)  We continue to suffer as a nation when young white men with radical ideologies open fire on innocents.

What’s going on?  Why are we so at odds with each other?  Why don’t we know the kind of peace that Jesus promised his followers—and that includes us?  Our gospel today is taken from John’s account of the night before Jesus was put to death.  The gospel quotes Jesus telling his original band of disciples, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.  I do not give to you as the world gives.  Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”

Peace.  He promised it, but where is it?   According to Google, there are 2.38 BILLION followers of Christ Jesus in the world right now, and peace seems more elusive than ever.

So, where did it go?

Well, first let me tell you a little story from the Pulitzer Prize-winning author Annie Dillard.  She writes,

    [quote]  “There is one church here, so I go to it.  On Sunday mornings I quit the house and wander down the hill to the white frame church in the firs.  On a big Sunday there might be twenty of us there….  The members are of mixed denominations; the minister is a Congregationalist and [he] wears a white shirt. The man knows God. Once, in the middle of the long pastoral prayer of intercession for the whole world–for the gift of wisdom to its leaders, for hope and mercy to the grieving and pained, succor to the oppressed, and God’s grace to all–in the middle of this he stopped and burst out, “Lord, we bring you these same petitions every week.” After a shocked pause, he continued reading the prayer.

Because of this, I like him very much.”  [unquote]

                        ~ Annie Dillard, Holy the Firm

I am glad that it’s not just me who gets frustrated with our repeated petitions for peace—petitions that don’t seem to be answered very fast at all, despite the promises of Jesus that we heard today.

A second point in the gospel also gets me frustrated.  Jesus tells his followers, “The Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you.”  OK, so the Holy Spirit will teach us everything, including, presumably, how to be at peace within ourselves and in the world.

So, if the Spirit has been teaching, why haven’t we been learning? 

It seems to me that there must be a kind of roadblock between the teaching part and the learning part.  Something’s in the way.  Why are we still living lives of strife and frustration—of infighting and war?  What happened to all that peace we were promised?

I want to believe it’s still coming our way, the peace sent from God.  And I want to believe that it’s ours to claim and make our own.  AND… we can do so only if we remove the roadblocks that we allow to be in the way.

On a cultural level we can name several obstacles that stand in the way of peace.  Our values are skewed, in my humble opinion.  Materialism, personal achievement–no matter the cost, a skewed distribution of wealth, name calling and scorn of the Other, endemic racism and other kinds of vicious prejudice.  Well, these are just a few of our cultural problems, aren’t they?

On a personal level, what might stand in the way of our hearing and welcoming the spirit of peace from God?  Well, obviously, there are so many things that could be at play, that I won’t even try to name them.  But THE one, huge, personal and spiritual issue for most of us, that impedes the coming of peace, is humility.

I bet you know that the word “humility” comes from the word “Humus.”  (I bet that Bevan preached this now and then.)  Humility is being earthy, gritty, real.  Like dirt.  It doesn’t involve diminishing our self-respect or self-worth but it certainly DOES imply a healthy understanding of just who we are. 

We are creatures, created by God.  We are not the kings and queens of the universe.  We are no better than anyone else, just different, as we are all made in God’s image.  Every one of us is deeply flawed, and yet deeply loved.  So really, who are we to treat another with scorn or maybe even to declare that someone is a moron who is of a very different political persuasion?  Believe me, that’s a really difficult habit to break. 

Casting aspersions somehow feeds us in a very negative and very delicious way. But it does NOTHING to usher in peace.  I’m reminded of the advice of St. Paul here, who wrote to the Christians in Philippi, “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves.”  [Philippians 2:3]    Consider others better than yourselves—even the ones that we’d like to dismiss / with contempt.  ////

Let me tell you a funny little story from the early centuries of the Church, when it was the thing to do / to renounce everything and go into the desert to invite God to clean and to teach the soul.  The cultivation of humility there was central.  So–Here the story:

A bishop paid a visit to the place where the brothers lived.  He heard that there was a monk there “of evil repute.”  Now, it happened that a woman came and entered the cell of the brother of evil reputation.  The other monks who lived there, having learned this, were troubled and gathered together to chase the brother from his cell.

 Knowing that the bishop was in the place, they asked him to join them, setting up the evil brother to be discovered and disciplined.  When the brother in question learned this, he hid the woman in a large basket, covered with a lid.  The crowd of monks came to the place. 

 Now, the bishop saw the situation clearly, but for the sake of God he kept the secret; he entered, sat on the basket, and when they had searched everywhere without finding the woman, the bishop said, “What is this?  May God forgive you all for this accusation!”  After praying he made everyone go out, then taking the brother by the hand, he said, “Brother, be on your guard.”  With these words, he left.

                –Paraphrase of pp 53-54, To Love as God Loves, by Roberta Bondi.

 I love this story because it’s funny, yes, but also because it gets at the heart of what it means to be humble.  This is the understanding that someone can sin today, but perhaps I may sin the same way tomorrow.  We’re all in this together, and name-calling and finger-pointing never lead to peace.  Compassion for the Other always leads to peace.

So, what can we do to help the world know more peace?  We can begin with our own hearts.  Cultivate humility in order to open more fully to the work of the Holy Spirit, whom Jesus sends to us to lead us into all peace.  Peace must begin with US before it can grow outward into the world.  Are we willing to let peace grow?

Amen.