Sermon: God's Peace

          The peace of the Lord be always with you.  Think for a second about that phrase.  How often when we pass the peace are we passing our own peace, rather than the peace of God, which, as we've been told, passes our own understanding.  In today's Gospel, Jesus instructs the 70 as they go out, when they enter a house, they should enter with the blessing, "Peace to this house."  So let's ask this question of every person here:  have you ever blessed a house that you've entered?  For myself, I remember to do it here at church, but I must admit that it is a very rare occasion for me to bless someone else's house.  Why is that?

          When I was researching for the sermon this week, one of the scholars had suggested that, instead of being completely literal with the Gospel lesson, to consider what carrying nothing with you actually means.  Christ told His disciples "Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals; and greet no one on the road."  What if those were words in His vernacular, where today we would say that we need to travel without our own baggage – when you meet someone, leave off your baggage, your past interactions with others, your expectations.  And at the same time, Christ instructed his disciples, "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.’"  What if as we leave the baggage from those towns behind, even so much as the dust, the expectations, the ridicule, defeat or resentment and meet each person brand new, with the Peace of God in your heart and on your lips.  And with the trust that even though our words may not have reached them today, the Holy Spirit will continue that work, through others.

          For most of us, we haven't simply placed down our "possessions."  It's not quite as bad as we find it in Montana, where often times our cell phones don't work, but in many places, people travel with their phones, their chargers, their computers, and they simply bring their stuff with them.  For a second, think about peace.  Close your eyes.

          There once was a King who offered a prize to the artist who would paint the best picture of peace. Many artists tried. The King looked at all the pictures, but there were only two he really liked and he had to choose between them.

          One picture was of a calm lake. The lake was a perfect mirror, for peaceful towering mountains were all around it. Overhead was a big blue sky with fluffy white clouds. All who saw this picture thought that it was a perfect picture of peace.  It often reminds us of lakes here in northwestern Montana.

          The other picture had mountains too. But these were rugged and bare. Above was an angry sky from which rain fell and in which lightening played. Down the side of the mountain tumbled a foaming waterfall. This did not look peaceful at all. But when the King looked, he saw behind the waterfall a tiny bush growing in a crack in the rock. In the bush a mother bird had built her nest. There, in the midst of the rush of angry water, sat the mother bird on her nest… perfect peace. 

          Which picture do you think won the prize?  Open your eyes.

          The King chose the second picture. “Because,” explained the King, “peace does not mean to be in a place where there is no noise, trouble, or hard work. Peace means to be in the midst of all those things and still be calm in your heart. That is the real meaning of peace.”

          When we look at the Old Testament lesson from 2 Kings, Naaman brought a great deal of baggage with him; not only his own leprosy to see the prophet of God, but his own customs, understanding, expecting to pay a great deal for the magic of the prophet's God to cure him.  Naaman 's anger at Elisha's response wasn't able to even hear the instruction from Elisha at first.  They were not meant to offend a great man, but rather one who followed Elisha's own traditions – washing before entering a holy place.  This is a mikveh in the Hebrew faith, where one immerses oneself to achieve ritual purity.  Once Naaman calmed himself with the help of his own servant, and did as Elisha requested, Naaman was ready to meet the holy man, clean, without his anger, his disease – without his baggage.  At that point, Elisha could certainly meet with him, declare him to be clean, and reminded Naaman that he was but a servant of God.  He didn't want, nor would he accept any payment.  But because of his example, Naaman requested, “If not, please let two mule-loads of earth be given to your servant (meaning himself); for your servant will no longer offer burnt offering or sacrifice to any god except the Lord."

          Now this was rather interesting, because Naaman, in his position with the King in Aram, would be required to kneel with the king before the king's god, Rimmon, known in other lands as Ba'al.  His intent is to create his own altar with the earth he takes with him, to worship the God of Elisha, of Abraham, of Isaac, of Jacob.  Naaman asks forgiveness from Elisha, who tells him to "Go in peace."  Here again, we hear the prophet of God sharing the peace of God, even among the everyday chaos of others.

          Peace is and always has been a catchword in our own politics.  Everyone wants peace.  Generally, no one (or, at least, only a small minority) wants conflict.  And yet our world is riddled with conflict.  Wars are waged in the name of peace. Low income homes leveled in gentrified neighborhoods for the sake of prosperity.  Treaties broken and religions demonized for the illusions of security and independence.

          The Pax Romana was a great and glorious time for the elite few. For the rest of the world, it was a time of fear and trial.  There are movements who, without a doubt, benefit elite subsets in each nation. But, as Christians, we are called not to ask whether we will be on the side that benefits from or suffers from this imposed greatness.  Rather, we are called to ask how to serve the only Great One, who sends us “like lambs into the midst of wolves” to bring a different kind of peace.

          God’s peace is a peace founded on life, rather than death.  On relationship, rather than on enmity.  On engaging in and accepting mutual hospitality, rather than building walls of division.

          For, indeed, the Kingdom of God has come—and is coming—near.  And may each of us share the peace of God with every person we meet.  Slow down.  Think about what we, as baptized Christians are sent out by Christ to do.  Set down your baggage. 

          And may the peace of God which passes all understanding  keep your hearts and minds in the knowledge and love of God, and of his Son Jesus Christ our Lord; and the blessing of God Almighty, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, be amongst you, and remain with you always.