Peace Be With You: A Sermon for 3B Easter

 I could have called this "Deja vu all over again" but I cut that line from the sermon figuring that those who missed last week's Gospel lesson from John, and those who were there, wouldn't know or remember what I was talking about last week. But I still wanted to say somethings differently, even if the basic message is the same. Such is life when you're the only one preaching and celebrating at a church. 

 

Text: Luke 24: 36b-48 

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Jesus stands among the disciples and says, “Peace be with you.”

Before I get too far along in this sermon…I want to hear from you:

When you hear the word, “Peace”…what images…or thoughts pop into your head?

(Leave time for responses)

With those things in mind…can you imagine for a moment…what it must have been like for the disciples?

These were people who had pinned their hopes and dreams of freedom and liberation from oppression on the man Jesus only to see him ruthlessly killed by the Roman Empire.

They were far from those (fill in any image or phrase that might have come up).

Their hearts were troubled.

As we enter into this scene in our Gospel…we need to know that the two disciples whom Jesus had met on the road to Emmaus are in the room with the others.

They’d just had their encounter at the dinner table where Jesus breaks bread and opens their eyes to see that he is risen.

And then…he disappeared.

They’ve rushed back to Jerusalem to the tell their friends how their hearts had been “strangely warmed” by his words as they were walking and talking.

Now…here comes Jesus again…suddenly standing with them.

The group is startled.

They think he’s a ghost.

But instead of saying, “Boo!” he’s told them, “Peace…be with you.”

He shows them that it is truly him…wounded in his hands and feet and yet unbroken.

And then…to further make the point…Jesus asks for something to eat.

They offer him a piece of fish.

At Emmaus…Jesus eats bread. 

In Jerusalem…Jesus eats fish. 

The loaves and the fish again…a meal Jesus and the disciples once shared with the thousands.

A meal in which Jesus demonstrated the abundance of God’s love for the all the people.

Not only giving them what they needed in that moment…but providing many baskets of leftovers.

This is the peace that Jesus brings into the room…into the lives of these scared souls.

A peace that says, “All is NOT lost. Love IS alive…and well…and eating bread and fish.”

This is the love that he then traces back over time…back to the days of Moses and the deliverance from the oppression endured by the ancestors in Egypt.

This is the peace that comes at times of trouble and fear when the psalmist cries out for help.

This is the breath that brought to life those dry bones…the breath that commands the prophet Ezekiel to prophesy and give life to those skeletons.

Slowly…methodically…with caring and concern for the disciples…Jesus reminds them of all these things.

 All of which pointed to a future.

A coming time of peace.

A time when they could live into the commandment to love one another as Jesus had loved them.

Follow in his path.

Be a friend to the stranger and to the lonely.

Be an advocate for the person who in need of help.

Include those whom the authorities have pushed aside and relegated to the margins of society.

Most importantly…Jesus gives the instruction that anyone who speaks in his name…anyone who claims to be part of his tribe…has an obligation to turn away from those things that get in the way of living in love…and forgiveness.

This peace that Jesus brings to the disciples is the same peace that Jesus brings to us…right now.

Because like the disciples in this Gospel…we…too…are witnesses.

Think of a person or people who have shown up when you needed help.

When you have either been in a jam or have been having a particularly difficult day.

That person who sat with you…listened to you…walked along side you.

As a massage therapist…I do this all the time with my clients.

The body often carries hidden hurts and wounds that show up as that painful knot in a muscle…that chronically aching shoulder.

Once touched…and the connective tissue around the muscle releases…sometimes…so does the memory of whatever happened to the person.

It may come out in heavy sighs.

Sometimes it’s tears.

Maybe words.

Whatever and however a person needs to express what has troubled them…the release not only happens physically with the softening of the tissue…it’s happened in their mind and in their spirit as well.

These are holy moments…met with the peace that comes from therapeutic touch.

It’s why I tell people that massage therapy is a ministry of healing.

I have seen this same peace manifest in support groups.

For a while…about fifteen years ago…I led a local chapter of the group Parents…Families…and Friends of Lesbians and Gays…or PFLAG.

The meetings were a safe space for people to gather…most of them cisgender straight people…who had sons and daughters that had come out to them years ago.

Florida voters had just enshrined a ban on same-sex marriage in the state constitution…and these folks wanted a place to learn how to support their children who now felt unwelcomed in their home state.

People came in…sometimes with righteous anger…sometimes with tremendous guilt because they’d never had to think about discrimination before.

And because it wasn’t part of their lived experience…there would sometimes be a sense of helplessness.

They knew that there were things that just didn’t know.

People would share their moments of triumph in speaking up for their kids.

Others would confess when they messed up.

Maybe they’d said some things out of thoughtlessness that were hurtful…or had stumbled in some other way.

We’d listen.

And just as it happens in any support group…there was always someone or a couple someone’s in the room…who’d been there…done that…got the T-shirt…and donated it already to Goodwill.

They could hear another person’s story and say…”Yeah…I did that. But now I know better.”

And as the late Maya Angelou once said, “Once you know better, do better.”

I watched as parents ministered out of their own experiences…their own mistakes…their own discoveries… to other struggling parents.

And by the end of the night…I would see a mom who’d been wracked with anxiety at the beginning of the meeting leave looking much lighter and brighter.

I could witness that dad realizing that he wasn’t alone.

While God’s holy name may never have been invoked…God’s peace was present…and a burden was lifted from a parent’s shoulders.

The passing of God’s peace is how we transition in our service from this time of hearing the scriptures…and praying for one another and for our world….to that moment where we break bread…the body of Christ…and share in a common meal of thanksgiving.

I started this sermon with asking you what images or thoughts come to your mind as you think about peace.

If what you imagined is something that brings peace to you…think of how you might pass that to your neighbor this morning.

Think of how that peace might help another as they approach this table to meet Christ in the bread and the cup.

As witnesses to Jesus’ love…we are now the apostles of that love to one another.

And that’s a transformative love worth sharing.

In the name of God…F/S/HS.