ALL SOULS PARISH

Sermon -- May 16, 2004

Rev. Andrew J. Walmisley

“Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”

How in the world can our hearts not be deeply troubled with images in the media of degrading and dehumanizing abuse of Iraqi prisoners? It used to be that only the “other side” did such things. We are now no better, or has it always been this way? Who has God on their side? How high up in the chain of command does this go? We have actually heard military officials insist that in the “war on terror” we are exempt from the principles of the Geneva Convention.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled…”

The image of Nick Berg cowering before his assassins as they speak into a video camera and murder him with the words “God is most great” on their lips. What kind of God is this? Frankly, the God who promotes hatred and violence on both sides is nothing more than a reprehensible projection of the darkest depths of human nature. So much of what passes for religion or godliness seems to be such a projection. If it weren't for the fact that long ago the God of love grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and wouldn't let me go, I promise you I would have nothing to do with religion. The truth is, however, I am pursued by Love and, despite it all, I am Christ's and he is mine. Some of you may share similar experiences.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled.” If we aren't deeply troubled by the events of the world and our own nation's less than noble share in the darkness then we must surely be hardened or, at the very least, in denial.

We live in an age of shattered dreams. Many of us really did believe that somehow the U.S. was different, that we stood for genuine ideals of justice and human dignity, that we were somehow inviolate. 9/11 and the events of the past few weeks have revealed a vulnerability and moral relativity that is nothing less than alarming. Nothing is what it once seemed and everything is up for grabs. And now, once again, we hear those astonishing words of Jesus: “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled…” Perhaps our nationalism has been a kind of idolatry, an illusion which we imagined would offer us true peace. But this was a sham, for no nation or political system provides for us genuine peace. And here “peace” isn't just the absence of conflict, but the establishment of God's “Shalom,” the state of blessedness, abundance, wholeness and justice characteristic of the reign of God. This is the peace the world cannot give.

Jesus spoke these words of peace to his terrified disciples. He was about to “leave them,” by which he meant his death. They could only have felt despair at the mere thought of his departure. Yes, they would miss their beloved Friend and Teacher. But more than that, his leaving could mean their annihilation at the hands of the Romans and the end of their community. There was, however, no way that his words were intended to bring “comfort” in the usual sense of that word. No matter how hard we try we can't really make the Christian faith a “comfortable” religion. While Jesus certainly did “comfort the afflicted,” he was probably more intent on “afflicting the comfortable,” of challenging the status quo, of upending the world order built on violence and oppression.

Jesus says some stunning things, and makes some astonishing claims. But when he says, “Those who love me will keep my word, and my Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them,” he isn't speaking words of cozy comfort. To be the dwelling place of God, God's very temple, is no mean thing and requires our absolute transformation into God's image of Perfect Love. The Holy Spirit, the Advocate, is promised to us, not to comfort us but to empower us to change the world.

I must say that under the current circumstances, one of the most alarming things is my own sense of powerlessness in the face of the darkness that enshrouds this whole constellation of events. But Jesus is telling us that we are never really powerless because God dwells in us all mightily and we are given the strength to meet head on the evil which “corrupts and destroys the creatures of God,” even when that evil is within us. For the truly horrible thing about the ghastly events we have witnessed in the news these past weeks is that we are capable of perpetrating all of them ourselves.

We are not powerless at all in the face of evil. Like many we admire who have gone before us, we can organize collectively. We can march and speak out. We can vote. God the Advocate inspires us, at the very least, to get up off the duff to make a true difference in this world, to give our lives to the building of the New Jerusalem by whose light all the nations will walk, whose gates will never be shut, where there is no longer night.