6th Sunday of Easter Cycle C May 9, 2010
Acts 15:1-2, 22-29 Revelation 21:10-14, 22-23 John 14:23-
29
Jesus may be a lot of things; Teacher, Savior, Messiah, Healer, Story
Teller, Forgiver, and so on. But one thing Jesus is not is a beggar. Unlike
some mothers on this Mother’s Day who may have to practically beg their
teenage son or daughter to do a chore around the house, Jesus doesn’t
beg us for our belief in him. Nor does he beg us to believe in his ministry,
his death, resurrection, and upcoming ascension. No begging. No
pleading. No games. But Jesus does deeply invite us each day to
participate in the whole and complete story of his
life.
I’m sure there have been times when all of us have tried at one time or
another to convince another person of something we know to be true. But
where the other person has been skeptical, thus resulting in us practically
begging them to believe us.
For example, if a die hard Red Sox fan died before the year 2004, or if a die
hard Red Sox fan carried out a volunteer mission to some South American
or African country in service to God’s children for the past five years,
where there was no radio, television, news reports, ESPN, or newspapers
about events in Boston. And when they returned from the mission, or if the
dead person returned from the dead, and you told that die hard fan that
the Red Sox have won the World Series - not once, but twice – since the
time they died in this life, or died to self and went on their mission, do you
think they would believe
you?
You could rant and rave, jump up and down, plead and beg, and even
show them the video of the final out of the final game, and the chances are
they still wouldn’t believe you. What would it take to be believed? What
would it take to convince a skeptical, unbelieving fan that the home team, a
team that suffered for so long and in the worst of ways, has won it all?
How does one convince a group of skeptical Apostles in an Upper Room
that, before it actually happens, the World Series of Eternal Life is going to
be won by way of scourging, thorns, a cross, and nails? How does Jesus
convince his followers that he is going away in death, and will return by
way of life after death? And finally, how hard does Jesus have to work to
convince anyone today that what he has waiting for us –a World Series
title, or even better, a Universe Series Title – is worth being true to his
name without him having to beg us for devotion and
loyalty?
In this Upper Room speech in today’s Gospel, Jesus continues to prepare,
without begging. He continues to form and shape. He continues to mold,
without begging. Which is an apt image for our lives, because events
happen in our lives that affect us deeply. Events that form us, shape us,
and mold us for better of for worse. And Jesus does the forming and
shaping in the Upper Room in the two ways that speak to his perfection;
love and peace. They are ours to freely choose. And they are ours to freely
reject.
First, love. “Whoever loves me will keep my word.” Jesus’ word is not
simply some verbal presentation. Or some physical mark like we read
about in this first reading from Acts, where the early Christian community
is trying to figure out whether one needs to be circumcised according to
the Mosaic Law in order to be saved. Rather, his word is meant to form,
shape, and mold the human heart, which affects the physical order for the
better. “What you did for the least of my people, you did to me.” These
words are very physical. But Jesus’ word is spirit and truth. Spirit meaning
that his words are not confined and restricted to this world. Spirit meaning
that all Christ gives to us transcends this world. Whatever is good that
begins on earth ends in heaven. But only if we love Jesus enough to keep
his word.
And truth meaning that there is no deception in God. There exists no false
teaching in Christ. Unlike the tons of deception we encounter in this world,
being grounded in Christ is to be grounded in truth. To be grounded in
Scripture is to be grounded in
truth.
And secondly, Jesus doesn’t beg us to grab hold of his peace. He simply
says “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world
gives it do I give it to you.” The peace that Jesus talks about is not simply a
feeling. A feeling of attaining satisfaction and comfort. Jesus was at peace
on the cross. I’m certain he wasn’t satisfied and comfortable as he hung
on the cross. But he was at peace.
The peace that Jesus offers to us without begging us to take hold of is the
peace of the Holy Spirit; the peace that the world cannot give to us is a
condition. Jesus’ peace is somewhat of a paradox; we find his peace in
the truth that we are a pilgrim people. Peace is deepened a hundredfold
when we admit and even embrace our own mortality. Because at that point
one can say “Lord, my life is in your hands.” When we turn our lives over
to Christ, like the Apostles did, we truly discover the peace of
Christ.
Jesus doesn’t beg us to accept his gifts of love and peace. He respects
our freedom too much. And it’s through freedom, our own free act, that the
light of Christ will shine forth and bear much good fruit in the ways of love
and peace. Not as the world gives it, and in many ways tries to force upon
us, but as Jesus offers to us, in spirit and in
truth.