peace « Ed's Slipper

My strongest memory of a Catholic church I once visited was the sharing of The Peace. At the time, it was the warmth and the sense of community that exuded from it that struck me. In that one moment, church stopped being a bunch of individuals following the pulpit, and it became an assembly that cared visibly for one another, including the rather uninterested visitor that I was. As I then went to more charismatic churches, it was a long time until I followed any traditional liturgy, but I still reminisced upon that Sharing of The Peace fondly. I was very pleased when I found it again in an Anglican church, but, unbeknownst to me, it wasn’t done “properly”: The Peace was shared right at the end of the service, before tea and coffee; and so it felt just like a greeting.

lll3

Photo: Charles Clegg, reused under CC License

There is definitely a social function to the Sharing of The Peace; and it would be a mistake to downplay it. Through it, we are bonding with one another, using the strongest bond possible: the Peace of Christ (which, as we know, passes all understanding). And that is true regardless of where in the service this handshaking happens. For that reason, all forms of greeting are appropriate: it does not have to be a handshake; it can most definitely be a hug. Hugs are cool.

But, normally, the Sharing of The Peace happens right before communion – in preparation towards it. Obviously, this reduces the social function, as it is not quite as easy to remain chatting then as it would at the end of the service; so why put it there? Is it somehow necessary to be at peace before receiving communion? In that case, the sharing of the peace is making us worthy to approach the table… er… yeah, maybe not. As, even when we approach it, we are not worthy to do so in our own strength, regardless of our feeling the peace of God.

Therefore, the Sharing of The Peace is gearing towards the same thing as communion. It is (at least symbolically) an expiatory moment, linked with the recognition and conviction of our own sins before our acceptance at Christ’s table, not as people who are worthy of coming into His presence, yet as people who can do so without hiding their baggage.

When we say to others “Peace be with you”, at least in the context of communion, it’s not merely a greeting: it is a prayer that, much like Zacchaeus or the woman at the well, we would find our eyes open to our own sin and be ready to confront them, dismiss them and find peace.

—

This time, the recorded sermon below is not a perfect match with the “summary” above, although there is significant overlap.

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Download link (right click, hit download) – Notes

Today was my second sermon ever. I mentioned last week how I found I was struggling more than with my first sermon. Before going out to preach, I still wasn’t 100% happy with it; but after having said it, I am actually finding it better than my first sermon. Anyway, here, you can listen to it, read it (although I did ad lib a bit). But as it is long, I’ll provide a summary too.

sermon2

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Sometimes, we are locked in the cage of our own worries: fear of failure, or of what others might think, stop us from acting. And so we try to shut out that fear, going on with our lives as though there was no way to go out of that cage. That’s where the disciples are at the start of the Gospel reading, before Christ appears to them: fear-stricken, behind locked doors. And then something happens that transforms them into the bold apostles who stand up before the Sanhedrin, saying “We must obey God rather than any human authority“.

The transformation happens in this house, in this upper room, when Jesus appears to the disciples. And it has four steps:

1. Receive the risen Christ – and lean on him in all that we do. I cannot stress enough that he is already there, in our midst, even behind locked doors – no matter how many times we go back and lock the doors again. Our part in it is to recognise his presence. And that can be done through pausing, looking around us, praying, drawing near for communion, seeing Christ in our friends. But Christ needs to be the unquenchable source of our discipleship: because if we follow something else, that something will run out.

2. Receive his peace. That follows naturally from step one – as we know that Christ who defeated death is on our side; although sometimes it doesn’t feel quite like that. Again, pause, and make sure you receive Christ’s peace before rushing out. I think that in giving us his peace, Christ unlocks the door – if we run out too fast, we might hurt ourselves quite a bit.

3. Receive and embrace his command, which is simple: “As the Father has sent me, so I send you”. We are to model Christ in our discipleship – be real imitators of him, and that means doing everything out of our love for God and for others, and in a spirit of submission – even when our will goes against what is asked of us.

4. Receive the Holy Spirit: we are not alone in this action!

I think that we each tend to focus on one step rather than all four. But they are equally important, and sequential. You can’t embrace God’s command without first receiving Christ and his peace – that would not be a race of perseverance.

If we follow all four, though, we will run that race to the end, with boldness and with peace. That’s why the liturgy goes: “Go in peace to love and serve the Lord”. We are to go beyond the church’s confines, but we are to be assured of that peace. And the response grounds this action in Christ: “in the name of Christ, amen.”

Peace be with you.

Ed's Slipper

About predestination and smaller matters

peace

Liturgy Month: Peace be with you

Four steps to discipleship