Jesus said: “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.”

John 14:27

Have you ever noticed how certain passages of Scripture seem to rise above the rest? There are these timeless verses that speak to every generation, and always seem timely and relevant. John 3:16, for example. Or Psalm 23. The Beatitudes in Matthew 5. You can probably think of other examples. 

Today’s gospel reading offers us one of these passages, and it is one of my favorites. It is quoted above.

This passage is timeless, it seems to me, because we always want more peace than we seem to have, in our world and in our own lives, and sometimes even in our very souls. 

Jesus promises us peace, but where is this peace to be found? 

That’s what I thought I’d reflect on with you this morning: John 14:27, and the promise of peace. 

And I want to start by thinking about peace in our souls, because I think that true peace always begins there. Without peace in our souls, we will never have peace in our families, or communities, or world. It begins with us. But again, where is this peace to be found? 

The Peace the World Gives

There is a clue that Jesus gives us in this very passage, when he says that he does not give to us as the world gives. The peace that the world gives is different from the peace that Jesus gives. 

So, the obvious question is: What peace does the world give? And how is this different from the peace that Jesus gives? 

One way the world offers us peace is what I would like to call the “If only” peace. 

If only I had more money, then I would have peace. 

If only I had a different job, or a better car, or a home at the beach, or in the mountains, then I would have peace. 

If only my family would get along, then I would have peace. 

If only the world would be a little kinder, then I would have peace. 

And on and on. 

This is the peace that the world wants to give, but ultimately cannot. 

So, when the “If only” peace doesn’t work, then what? 

If we can’t rely on the world, maybe we can rely on ourselves. So we turn to self-improvement. We exercise, learn to manage our time better, or work on improving our relationships. All good things, obviously. But all doomed to fail in giving us peace, for a very simple reason: 

We can’t rely on ourselves. We are, as we often confess here, captive to sin and cannot free ourselves. We can’t save ourselves. We can’t achieve peace by our own strength or persistence. We can accomplish some amazing things that way. But we can’t achieve peace for our souls. 

One explanation that I find helpful is from a Lutheran theologian writing back in the 17th century:

“The soul often seeks rest and peace in transitory and worldly things, but finds them not. And why? Because the soul is of far more worth than all created things; it cannot therefore find the rest and peace it seeks in things of the earth … the soul is immortal; how then can it find peace in these?” (Johan Gerhard)

The soul cannot find peace in the world. It cannot achieve peace on its own. That is the hard truth at the heart of this passage from John’s Gospel. 

But when we embrace that truth, then we are ready to hear the promise from Jesus:

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives.” 

When we long for peace, and when we finally come to believe that we cannot find it apart from God, we are ready to hear what Jesus has to say. 

God-given Restlessness

By the way, this longing for peace, this restlessness, is actually woven into our very being. That is what we believe. We were created with this restlessness. As St. Augustine put it, “You made us for yourself, Lord, and our hearts find no peace until they rest in you.”

The pastor and poet George Herbert reflected on this restlessness in a wonderful poem called “The Pulley.” In this poem, Herbert is imagining God creating us, and giving us all these wonderful things, like wisdom, honor, and pleasure. But then God decided that it would be best not to give us one thing, and that is peace apart from God. 

“Let him keep the rest,” God says, “But keep them with repining restlessness; Let him be rich and weary, that at least, If goodness lead him not, yet weariness May toss him to my breast.”

A God-created restlessness, woven into our very DNA, so that we do not forget about God. Eventually, even if goodness does not lead us to God, our weariness will. 

So we have this restlessness down in our souls, and we were made by God that way, so that we would eventually turn from all the false ways of finding rest for our souls, and turn back to God. 

And Jesus came to invite us to do just that. 

The Peace Jesus Gives

As Jesus says, in another of those timeless passages from Scripture, this time from Matthew 11:

“Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.”

This is the peace that the world cannot give, true rest for our souls. It cannot be bought. It cannot be earned. It cannot be discovered. It cannot be learned. This peace can only be received. And Jesus alone can give it to us. 

The Responsibility of Peace

But, of course, you know this! Or you wouldn’t be reading this. You and I have come to know and believe that Jesus alone can give us peace. We have come to him. Our restlessness has driven us to him. All the other attempts at finding peace apart from Jesus have failed us, so we are here. To worship the Prince of Peace, to give thanks for the peace that surpasses all understanding, and to let our troubled hearts, our restless souls, be led to the still waters that are found in Jesus. 

But then what? What do we do with this gift of peace? What would Jesus have us do with this gift? 

This is what you might think of as the responsibility of peace. This peace is freely given to us, but it needs to be shared. From a place of peace, we can offer peace to our families, our communities, and our world. 

We can be peacemakers, as Jesus says in his Beatitudes. 

We can seek peace and pursue it, as Peter teaches us in First Peter. 

We can, so far as it depends on us, live peaceably with all, as Paul teaches in his Letter to the Romans. 

We can be instruments of his peace, as St. Francis of Assisi famously prays. 

From peace in our souls to peace in our world. And doesn’t our world need more peace?

Getting Practical About Peace

But none of this is very practical, you might say. So let me offer one practical suggestion, using an image from one of Jesus’ parables, the parable of the sower. 

“A sower went out to sow his seed,” Jesus taught, “and as he sowed some fell on a path … Some fell on rock … Some fell among thorns … Some fell into good soil, and when it grew it produced a hundredfold” (Mark 4:3-8).

So think about the peace of Christ as being that seed. It has been planted in our souls, and we pray that our souls are good soil. Again, that is why we are here. 

But then, as we leave here, we go to sow the seed of peace in our world. We scatter it widely, without worrying about where it lands, just as Jesus taught us. We share a kind word with a stranger. We let an impatient driver cut in front of us. We send an encouraging note or text to someone on our mind. 

We try always to speak the truth in love, as Paul reminds us. And never let the sun go down on our anger. 

We read the gospels and we learn more of how to do all of this from Jesus himself. The Prince of Peace. Who did get angry at times. And upset people at times too. But always from a place of peace. 

Because we can’t spread peace in the world if we do not have peace in our souls. 

Jesus teaches us that, through his words and through his life. 

The Gift of Peace

There is a book that I love by Joseph Cardinal Bernardin, who died of pancreatic cancer in 1997. Just thirteen days before he died, he finished a book called “The Gift of Peace,” a book that is dear to me. And these are his closing words:

“What I would like to leave behind is a simple prayer that each of you may find what I have found – God’s special gift to us all: the gift of peace. When we are at peace, we find a freedom to be most fully who we are, even in the worst of times. We let go of what is nonessential and embrace what is essential. We empty ourselves so that God may more fully work within us. And we become instruments in the hands of the Lord.”

Again, these words were written just thirteen days before he died. And he is reflecting on the gift of peace that is not dependent upon circumstances, clearly. The peace that he received as a gift from Jesus. The peace that Jesus came to give us all. When we are at peace, he wrote, we find a freedom to be most fully who we are, even in the worst of times. And with that peace, we can become instruments in the hands of the Lord. 

As he wrote these words, he was thinking of the famous prayer by St. Francis of Assisi, which seems like a very good way to wrap up this sermon. So, here is the 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.