Peace I Leave with You

“Peace I leave with you,” the Lord said in John 14:27. Did He leave peace with us, though? It sure doesn’t seem like it sometimes.

The National Catholic Register reported that anti-Christian hate crimes are up 44% in a single year. Open Door’s “World Watch List” shared that more than 365 million Christians faced “very high or extreme” levels of persecution last year. This means that one in seven Christians has experienced excessive physical violence because of their faith. Nearly five thousand of these experiences resulted in death. Pretty much all of them happened in African and Asian countries.

Strangely, looking at the color-coded map, North America and Europe are greyed, which means that the kind of active persecution intent on snuffing faith entirely is nearly non-existent. I wondered about this.

But not for long.

Apart from the proof that much of mainstream Christianity’s doctrine is meme-generated, I mentioned in my sermon on Easter Sunday that countries like ours aren’t exactly robust targets for the Devil when it comes to battling faith. We’ve proven more than capable of battling it ourselves. A few examples…

In stride with its neighboring European countries, and for starters, Scotland’s parliament just made misgendering someone a criminal offense punishable by up to seven years in jail. It received vocal support from no small number of churches. Across the Atlantic in North America, Canada has been experiencing this same scenario for years. Just south of Canada’s border, here in the United States, we’re certainly not far behind. Christian pastors bless Planned Parenthood clinics, claiming Jesus was pro-choice while defending a mother’s so-called right to kill her unborn child up to and after birth. I was at this year’s State of the State address in Michigan. The Invocator, a Christian pastor, spoke this way. Should I expect anything different? Just shy of 60% of Michigan’s pew sitters elected state leaders who continue to make this infanticide possible. Those same leaders support children undergoing chemical castration and the criminalization of protesting parents. Add to that their targeting of Christian businesses and non-profit organizations for adhering to Christian doctrine.

Still, so many American Christians yawn.

I also mentioned in my Easter sermon two weeks ago that as a nation, our own president, Joe Biden, is proof that the Devil is likely disinterested in us. He already has one of his faithful in the White House, and with that, he can labor elsewhere. Even as a self-described (in every sense of the word) devout Catholic, Biden went out of his way to declare Easter Sunday to be “Transgender Day of Visibility.” Cardinal Wilton Gregory, the archbishop of the Archdiocese of Washington D.C., called Biden a “cafeteria catholic,” meaning he picks and chooses what he wants to believe. That could’ve been a zinging indictment if it didn’t also apply to most of mainstream American Christendom.

Either way, I chose to push back against Biden’s executive proclamation rather crisply from the pulpit. Interestingly, after the service, I was met with a visitor’s venom, insisting before an observing line of exiting worshippers I was a bigot. As you can see, I’m still thinking about it a few weeks later.

Oh well. For some of us, it goes with the territory, becoming little more than sticks-and-stones-may-break-my-bones and all that. Still, I suppose I got off easy by comparison. I read about someone burning a trailer filled with Bibles in front of a church in Tennessee on Easter morning. Unsurprisingly, the media let it slide. The usual suspects at the helm of American culture who did mention it said things like, “Any church preaching hate should expect some level of backlash.” And by “preaching hate,” the lesbian commentator who remarked meant anyone who doesn’t believe as she believes when it comes to human sexuality, or worse, who publicly teaches what the Bible teaches about sin, gender, life, and other topics.

As I said, I wondered about America not making the persecution cut. But only for a moment. I think we’re already doing the Devil’s dirty work for him. There’s really no need to behead anyone for faith in Christ when the mouths on those heads couldn’t tell you much about Him. I can’t tell you how many posts from Christians I saw (and still see) claiming a connection between Easter and Ishtar. The ignorance in our churches of Christian history and its vernacular is absolutely astounding. But again, what should one expect from a Christianity that learns its theology from the internet? What should one expect from a Christianity that wants to look and feel like the culture in almost every way rather than being the holy body of Christ, distinct and set apart from the world?

Maybe to frame what I mean, imagine if I walked into a rock concert wearing jeans and a T-shirt. No one would care. But if I walked into that same concert wearing my alb, stole, and chasuble, people would probably notice and be put off by it. That said, it seems too many people in too many churches would be put off by it, too, preferring a pastor in rock concert attire. But it’s not only that the Church and the world are to be noticeably different. Our vocabulary is different, too. We communicate using terms like catechesis, Sanctus, Tenebrae, kyrie, sacrament, and Agnus Dei. Moreover, we move differently. We carry processional crucifixes. We bow our heads when the Lord’s name is spoken. We do things like make the sign of the cross and sing sacred scripture to one another. We prefer church names that could never be mistaken for nightclubs, but instead, teach what we believe, names like Holy Trinity, Redeemer, and Our Savior.

Side by side, the Church and the world look very little alike. Even further, the world isn’t going to hate itself. It’s going to hate what is apart from it. And it won’t stand idly by when something is snatched from it. Indeed, the Lord told us these things, saying, “If the world hates you, know that it has hated me before it hated you. If you were of the world, the world would love you as its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you” (John 15:18-19).

This leads us back to where I began: persecution.

Ann Landers once said something relatively intuitive. She wrote to one of her readers, “Don’t accept your dog’s admiration as conclusive evidence that you are wonderful.” I know what she meant in context, but in this instance, it had me thinking in a different direction. Just because your dog loves you doesn’t mean you’re wonderful. And so, the absence of the types of overt persecution happening elsewhere in the world might not be a sign that things are okay. It could just be that the world is disinterested in paying much attention to what it believes it already owns. Or, at a minimum, it sees American Christianity as a form of spirituality that can be easily molded to its liking.

Maybe.

I suppose, in conclusion, the Lord did say, “Peace I leave with you.” But that’s not all He said. The complete text of John 14:27 is, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.”

The Lord said this because He knew the Church on earth would exist perpetually in an unsettling time of oppression. Still, Jesus gives His believers peace. It’s not the peace we might expect, as in the absence of conflict. It’s the kind of peace that can endure persecution’s fires, no matter how hot they get. It’s also the kind of peace that inevitably draws the world’s attention. This is true because it tends to speak up even when doing so is dangerous. By the power of the Holy Spirit at work for faith in Christ, believers have this peace. It settles a troubled heart and smothers fear, just as Jesus said. How could it not, especially when the One who promised it also conquered the last and most terrifying enemy, death (1 Corinthians 15:26)? If not even death holds dominion over us, what else is there to fear?

You know the answer.

Christmas Day, 2022

Merry Christmas!

What cheer that greeting brings, wouldn’t you say?!

Discounting the exceptions—that is, the humbugging Scrooges of this world who’d be rid of Christmas if they could—“Merry Christmas” is one of the few salutations with the muscle to stoke the cooling embers of a tired heart. Indeed, a weary soul is made young again, even if only for a moment, when a smiling passerby says, “Merry Christmas.”

Truly, it’s a greeting like no other.

I heard the greeting countless times last night at the Christmas Eve service. As I did, I was reminded of days long since spent, past seasons from childhood to adulthood. In a way, it could be said that unlike other greetings, this one stands at the door of here-and-now inviting memories to come inside. “Remembrance, like a candle,” Charles Dickens said, “burns brightest at Christmastime.” He might be right. “Merry Christmas” is spoken today, and a favorite toy from decades ago is remembered. It remembers a special moment with family. It remembers bygone friends. It remembers so many things.

Rarely would I add anything to Dickens’ wisdom, except to say it’s not just our pasts being invited to join us. I think our hopeful futures enter, too. Hope comes in to sit beside memory’s flickering flame.

I slept here at the church last night, mainly because I’m getting a little older and more easily tired. I don’t usually get home until well after 1:00 AM on Christmas Eve. Knowing I’d need to turn right around and come back in barely a handful of hours, combined with the treacherous roads, this year I decided to stay. I’ve done such things before. Besides, those who know me best can assume I was accompanied by a warming beverage before bed, one furnished by the Scots. I also happened upon a poetic scribbling from Alexander Smith, another product of Scotland. “Christmas,” he wrote, “is the day that holds all time together.” Like Dickens, I think he might be onto something. The very event of Christmas, if anything, begins the divine intersection of past, present, and future.

The Lord’s birth is the first effort of God’s plan to save us. As it begins, a much fuller Gospel message can be seen on the horizon. The angels sing it. The shepherds share it. The wise men are drawn to it. The Devil, through Herod, is fearful of it. And why? Because in its completeness, it will be a message that meets with the past, present, and future. It will herald what Christ has done, is doing, and will continue to do for humanity relative to Sin. This is the timelessness of “Merry Christmas.” This is the greeting’s forward thrust.

To grasp it, it’s as simple as digging a little deeper into the greeting. The salutation’s innards are not far from “Be joyful! Christ is present bringing salvation!” A Christian stands in the middle of the intersection by these words. To say “Merry Christmas” is to see all of time being held together. It is to give and receive the best answer to the hardest questions plaguing anyone’s past, present, and future.

If a troubled soul were to ask, “How can the Lord love me for what I’ve done?” The answer must be, “Fear not! He does! Merry Christmas!” If the concern continues by asking, “Will my disfigured past ever obstruct the Lord’s view, making Him unable to love a person like me?” The answer must be, “No. He knows what you’ve done. Still, He inserted Himself into the tarry horribleness of your dreadful past to claim you. Merry Christmas!”

Unconvinced, a person might continue, “As hard as I try, I continue to fall short. Will my everyday imperfections disgust Him enough to push me away? Will He ever walk away when I fall? Will He ever distance Himself from my continued shame?” Again, the Christmas answer must be, “No, He will not do these things. Certainly, you are not perfect. But He is. Trust Him. By His great exchange on Calvary’s cross, He takes your sadness into Himself and gives to you His righteousness. Merry Christmas!”

“But what about the future? As with anyone else, won’t He one day grow tired of this exercise? As with so many others, won’t He one day turn me away?” Christmas closes the book on the discussion, offering kindly, “No, He won’t. He sees your penitent faith, even if you don’t. He intends to heap mercy upon you until He returns in glory on the Last Day. Be joyful! He came at His nativity to save you. He’s coming back to take you home! Merry Christmas!”

Dear Christians, please know that all is well by faith in Jesus, the divine Child we celebrate today—Christmas Day! The intersection of your past, present, and future rested in that manger in Bethlehem so long ago. He came. He was who He claimed to be, and He accomplished what He said He would. Your salvation is secure. You are His, and He is yours. This wonderful friendship is His gift to you (John 15:15). Moreover, it’s a divine exchange meant for presenting you as Jesus’ most precious possession before the heavenly Father (Titus 2:14). By His work, you are justified (Titus 3:4-7). Covered in the pristinely white wrappings of Holy Baptism and topped with the bloodstained bow of His salvific work on the cross, what else might the Son say amid this grand and heavenly gift-exchange but “Merry Christmas!” (Romans 8:34, 1 John 2:1, and Hebrews 7:25)? It certainly seems appropriate.

Again, the greeting is like no other.

With that, Merry Christmas to you and yours! I hope to see you later this morning for worship at 9:30 AM. If you can make it, please know that the heat is on, the lights are beaming, and the Lord’s gifts of Word and Sacrament are ready and waiting to be received.