“An Otherworldly Peace”
Original sermon given on Sunday, May 25, 2025 written and delivered by Pastor Jeff Leininger at First Saint Paul’s Lutheran Church.
Watch the sermon live.
“An Otherworldly Peace”
John 14.23-29
John 14.23-29
In the name of the Living God and the risen Christ. Amen.
They had every reason to be ‘troubled’ on that last night before Jesus’ crucifixion. They knew the end was drawing near. Judas has stormed out to betray him and them; Peter impetuously stands up to vow his undying love, only to be told that in a few hours, he will deny that he knows Jesus. And it was night. Confusion, fear, anger, and sadness — these are the things which make up this word ‘troubled’ in the New Testament. We often think of ‘troubled’ water. That’s also how the Bible uses this word: water that’s not calm, placid, at rest, but stirring, breaking, uneasy.
It’s easy for us to relate to this image. If someone’s marriage is not going well, we say that it’s ‘troubled’ or ‘rocky’. A person who’s been going through a ‘rough stretch’ may look ‘troubled’; a region of the world marred by conflict is described as “troubled”, stirred up, or unsettled. In large and small ways, we can understand what the disciples must have been feeling that night: confusion, fear, anger, sadness. And in fact, with them we hear our Lord’s command to “stop being troubled” — stop living in fear. These are imperatives from our Lord, spoken into our hearts, our lives, our world.
It is precisely these stirred up waters that Jesus wishes to calm on that dark night. “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you.” In the midst of these troubled waters, these roaring rapids, Jesus promises peace. To continue the image, one might say Jesus speaks to calm the waters, as he did on the sea of Galilee. Or, as we heard a few weeks ago from Psalm 23: “He leads me besides still waters.”
Which all begs the question: What is it about the peace of Jesus which is not of this world? Why is it that we pray for the “peace which the world cannot give”? It is a difficult question because as Christians, we expect to have more peace than the world, but so often just the opposite often seems to be the case. The neighbors in your building never go to church, but they all seem to get along just fine. Whereas maybe your family at times feels less like the Waltons and more like, well, the Simpsons (we put the fun into dysfunctional, right?). A friend or coworker or classmate has little or no religious foundations, but their life appears to be going just fine — at least on the outside.
So, what is it about this peace which Christ spoke to his disciples, and which we know and believe is be spoken to us as well, even as we are gathered here in this place in which we seek peace? What is that makes it different than the world’s peace?
It seems to me that as I study the scriptures that the peace which this world tries to give is merely an absence of conflict — a simple lack of war, fighting, tension, or arguing. The peace of the scriptures, on the other hand, is so much more: not so much the absence of conflict, but the overwhelming presence of something else. This world’s peace is absence. Christ’s peace is presence.
Think about that common word for peace in the Old Testament, shalom. Even today, the word shalom doesn’t simply mean “peace.” It is a greeting, a thanksgiving, and a goodbye. But more importantly, it actually means completeness, or wholeness. That is, it is a word that is filled. When someone has shalom, they aren’t simply lacking fear, conflict, or confusion; rather they are a whole person, complete and filled up.
When Jesus says, “Peace I leave with you; peace I give to you,” he is promising shalom — to give us completeness, wholeness, fullness. He is promising to fill us, overflow us. And what is most profound about this filling, is what it does to the troubles: Jesus never promises that there will be no more fear, anger, confusion, or sadness in this world. In fact, he promises just the opposite: “In this world you will have troubles of all kinds.” But for those who are in Christ, his peace, his shalom, overwhelms, overflows those troubles.
Think of the image of a rapid river — here’s an illustration from the canoe or the kayak. What makes the rapids? What stirs up the waters? The less the river is filled (with water), the harsher the rapids and the more troubled the water. But when the river is filled up and overflowing with water, the rocks remain, but the rapids go away. The water so overwhelms the riverbed as to make the rocks unimportant and troubled water calm.
This is how the peace of Christ works. It does not always in this world take away our fear, confusion, anger, or sadness. Rather, we the baptized are so filled with the peace of Christ, and the Spirit of Christ, and the grace of God in Christ, and the love of God that these troubles are overwhelmed, overflowed, overcome. This is what our Lord means when he tells us to “take heart, I have overcome the world.”
Sometimes when we are searching for peace, we spend so much time trying to get rid of conflict. We expend all this time and energy trying to remove all the rocks from the riverbeds of our lives: every piece of conflict, large or small, must be dug up and dragged up on shore. (Indeed, a noble endeavor, but exhausting and impossible this side of heaven.)
But the peace of Christ is better understood not as the absence of conflict, but rather the presence of the ocean of God’s love; it is the presence of the Spirit himself, always with us by our side walking with us as our advocate and guide; it is the ever-present hope of our heavenly home which Jesus prepares for us. This is the shalom, the fullness, the completeness which Christ only gives.
So maybe in your life, if you’re like me, you’re seeking some peace. I’m here to remind you that the peace is more than just a removal of things — stress from work; Chicago traffic; turning off your phone; watching less cable news (a great idea, btw) — peace is more importantly the presence of something else: Christ himself: in his word; in worship; in the fellowship of the baptized; in his true presence at the table.
May this shalom of Christ fill us abundantly today, every day, and our whole lives… that our hearts may be still.
Come soon Lord Jesus. Amen.