Sunday Sermon: What Jesus Always Leaves
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Text: John 14:27
Series: "Certain Truths for Uncertain Times”
One of the earliest lessons I learned growing up was the importance of leaving any place I had been in better shape that when I first got there. It was a lesson instilled in me early on by my parents and was quickly and steadily reinforced at Boy Scout campouts and youth group gatherings and high school sports teams, particularly when we played “on the road” as they say. The vast majority of the lesson of leaving a place better than how I found it had to do with physical factors – factors like neatness and cleanliness and orderliness. The aim was to make it seem like you had never even been there to begin with. And I understood the concept. Being respectful of other people’s property does seem like the sensible thing to do. But is it always a good thing to leave behind no evidence of your presence? Does it not make sense to leave behind something that might add some measure of value, especially if what you leave behind is something that won’t just maintain the status quo, but would actually make it an even better place?
That’s the question that comes to my mind as I hear this text from John’s Gospel. Jesus is speaking with his disciples, offering them final instructions – teachings that will prepare them not just for his imminent absence but also for their future responsibility in terms of carrying on his Kingdom ministry.
The last thing Jesus wants is for his disciples to forget him. He doesn’t want to exit from their memories so that they simply go on with their lives with no recollection of him whatsoever. So, what does Jesus do? He leaves something behind. Or better should I say he leaves Someone behind – Someone who can carry on his presence and his counsel in a way that will assure them that regardless of what comes against them everything will be just fine.
“Peace I leave with you,” Jesus tells them. “My peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. (So) do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”
The word “peace” was of course a very familiar expression in the first century world, certainly among the Jewish people, which was the background from which Jesus and all twelve of his disciples had come. The word suggested so much more than the mere absence of conflict, which is how we tend to understand it today. It meant calmness and well-being. It meant abundance and fullness of life. It meant having everything you need to be wholly and happily you. Consequently, it had come to be a standard form of greeting and parting. When you either entered or exited from someone’s company, it was a word you usually would hear. “Peace.” Think of it as how we say today not just “hello” or “goodbye,” but “How are you?” or “Have a great day.”
But like those expressions, unless we’re intentional about putting those words into practice, they become meaningless. How many times have you asked someone how they were but never bothered to hang around to hear their answer? And how many times have you wished someone a good day but never bothered to check back to see if in fact it had been that for them?
When Jesus spoke this word to his disciples, he meant it. He meant it so much that he promised a companion who could make peace more than a pipe dream for them but a distinct possibility. “I have spoken all this while still with you,” Jesus told his disciples. “But the Advocate, the Paraclete, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, (he) will teach all things and remind you of everything I said to you.”
I don’t know about you, but when I think about the peace that Jesus promised to leave behind for his disciples, I think of something, a quality of life, that people today are in as much need of as these disciples who at the time couldn’t possibly comprehend how much they would need it.
But we do. Oh, how we do. Look at our world. It’s so conflicted. It’s so divided. It’s so fragmented and disheveled. No matter how you might choose to define peace, it is the one thing today that is so desperately lacking and the one thing (no, the only thing) that might put us as a people back together. So, how then do we attain it? How do we come to know it?
As with so much of life, especially for people of faith, the answer is Jesus. That’s what you would expect a preacher to say; would you not? But I don’t mean that as just a pious cliché. I mean it as Jesus meant it to be. Peace is a gift; it’s not something that we can make happen. You can sign all the treaties you want until the pen runs dry. You can arm yourself to the teeth with every weapon known to man. You can run from every threat. You can stick your head in the sand in the face of every challenge. None of it will do you any good, at least not any lasting good, because that’s the sort of peace that the world gives. The best thing you can do is trust yourself and your situation to the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit – the same Spirit that hovered over the surface of the formless and empty darkness on the first day of Creation, the same Spirit that Jesus offered up to God on the day of his crucifixion, the same Spirit that the Risen Jesus breathed on his disciples that Easter evening when he appeared to his disciples in the Upper Room, and the same Spirit that descended upon the believers on the Day of Pentecost, which empowered them to go out and turn their world upside down for the cause of Jesus Christ. You trust yourself to that same Presence and Power and what will come from your commitment is an endless supply of encouragement and support that will enable you to look upon your uncertainties with an untroubled heart.
In this age of COVID, I like to think of the peace that Jesus gives through the Holy Spirit as a kind of “bubble.” We’re familiar with those things now; aren’t we? I’m not talking about the kinds of soapy bubbles that children blow. I’m talking of course of the kinds of bubbles that organizations and business creates to keep their precious people resources healthy enough to finish the season or complete the project or keep the doors open. In fact, as we move into the Advent season here at the church, where our music ministry does the bulk of the heavy lifting, we’ve been talking as a staff about the importance of being responsible in our engagements with others, because while I as a preacher am dispensable, given how we’ve got a host of other preachers on our staff, if a leader in our music ministry tests positive or has to go into a period of quarantine because he or she has been around someone who is positive, then a major worship event in the Advent season has to be canceled. So, we’re doing our best to create our own “bubbles,” but the idea of what could happen in spite of our best efforts doesn’t give us much peace. But the “bubble” the Holy Spirit creates for all of us, the “bubble” that Jesus promised to leave behind, it does. Because while it doesn’t completely cordon us off from the chaos and confusion swirling around us, it most definitely protects us from falling victim to it. As the famous Serenity Prayer promises, the Spirit empowers us “to accept the things we cannot change, the courage to change the things that we can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”
Over the last several weeks, I’ve noticed how a good number of commercials on television have had to do with insurance. Have you noticed that as well? And it’s not just one insurance company pushing their products. There’s one that promises you a quote in fifteen minutes or less. There’s another that wants to save you money by bundling your protection. And there’s another that promises you that regardless of what happens, whether a tree falls on your house or you run into someone or someone runs into you, you’re in good hands.
I don’t have my insurance with any of those companies, so don’t hear this as an endorsement. But while I don’t have anything against a quick quote or making sure I have comprehensive coverage, I have to admit that the one promise that makes my soul sing in this present season is that I can put myself into something where I might be in good hands, which is precisely what Jesus was promising to leave behind for his disciples, though not just with something, but with Someone.
“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”
Do you know that peace? If so, then rest assured that your life is in good hands. Your life is in God’s hands. You can most definitely face whatever uncertainties come your way with an untroubled heart. The Spirit is with you. You are not alone.