Matthew 6:25-34
July 2, 2023
William G. Carter
Who is wise and understanding among you? Show by your good life that your works are done with gentleness born of wisdom. But if you have bitter envy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not be boastful and false to the truth. Such wisdom does not come down from above, but is earthly, unspiritual, devilish. For where there is envy and selfish ambition, there will also be disorder and wickedness of every kind. But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy. And a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace for those who make peace.
“The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace…” The fruit of the day is peace. Peace. All of us want peace. All of us would like more of it. But what exactly do we think peace is?
A scene comes to mind: mountain cabin, mist on a nearby pond, nobody else is awake yet. The soundtrack is a symphony of bird song. There’s a steaming cup of coffee in my hand. Ahh, that’s peace. But it’s not the kind of peace that the New Testament describes. Not necessarily.
A few weeks ago, as I traveled around my block, I noticed one of the neighbors put a new statue in the front corner of his yard. It’s an eighteen-inch statue of Buddha, placed among his rose bushes. When I see the neighbor, I’ll have to ask him about it. I thought he was Catholic. And I imagine he will respond, “Meditating by that statue gives me peace.” But that is not a New Testament kind of peace. Not really.
Not long ago, the world received the news that George Winston had passed away after a long battle with cancer. Maybe you heard some of his piano music. His recordings resonated with his personality: gentle, never rushed, deeply grounded, and very melodic. Winston could fill a large auditorium to hear his quiet music – and for admission, he requested concertgoers to donate food to a food pantry in whatever city he was performing.
Some of George Winston’s music meanders for a while. It gurgles like a stream in the woods. Winston specialized in creating music that calmed troubled spirits. Listeners could sink into the ostinatos and let the rhythms carry them for a while. I remember somebody who told me, “His music offered peace in a frantic and fragmented world.” I turned to his wife and asked, “Did you enjoy it too?” “Honestly,” she replied, “I was bored.”
You have to wonder. Is this the peace that grows as the fruit of the Holy Spirit? The kind of peace that calms down some and bores others? No, not really.
In our theme song for the summer, Paul sings of peace. Today we hear Brother James, an early Christian preacher, speak of “a harvest of righteousness sown in peace.” Paul and James use the same word. It’s the Greek word “Eirene.” Eirene was the name of a Greek goddess. Everybody prayed to Eirene for peace. It’s the basis of our word “irenic,” which means peaceable. It’s become a proper name – Irene.
When my brother and his wife had a baby girl, they named here Grace Irene. I couldn’t wait until she was old enough to understand when I said, “Hey Gracie, your name means ‘Grace and Peace.’” My brother just rolled his eyes.
Peace has that kind of effect, you know. It’s no big deal. We assume it’s always there. Or that it’s always somewhere. True enough – unless your life has precious little peace in it. Then peace is a big deal, a precious commodity, a heavenly gift.
So this summer, we’re working through those invisible attributes that the apostle Paul calls “the fruit of the Spirit.” These are qualities of life that God offers to us, holy attributes that build our Christian maturity and flesh out our faith. Peace is a big one. It is elusive and intangible. It comes, it goes. The question I pose: how can we cultivate it? How can we nourish the garden of our soul so that peace can grow within us, among us?
You know one of the answers. There is a time-honored approach to a peaceful life, namely, you avoid those people and those situations that don’t feel peaceful. These days there are plenty of both: contentious people, angry conversations, conflicted families, fragmented institutions. One response: keep your distance from all of it.
I asked somebody about something that was reported on the news. “Did you hear about it? What do you think?” She said, “I don’t watch the news. It only makes me angry.” So she sticks to Jeopardy, Wheel of Fortune, and any number of cooking channels. That’s a way to keep the blood pressure down. It’s also a fine way to avoid the real world. And if you have enough money and stability, as she does, it’s a way to disconnect. Seems like peace, but it’s not what the Bible calls peace. It’s more a form of escape.
So what do we do? Another answer is to place ourselves among green pastures and still waters. That’s such an idyllic image, an irenic image. No wonder so many of us live the 23rd Psalm – because there’s so much turmoil, so much disruption. And we want peace. This is what fuels the taking of vacation, the going on long trips, the pursuit of quiet locations. This is another time-honored approach to creating peace.
I recall visiting a friend whose wife is an interior decorator. The pillows matched the curtains. The fresh flowers were here, a modest table sculpture here. On the walls, a modest amount of art, nothing distracting. Pointing to a room full of interlocking pastel colors, she said, “I love the feng shui of this space.” You’ve heard that phrase, no doubt. Feng shui is the Asian art of purposeful balance, utilized to calm the mind and still the soul. Done well, we breathe deeply and rest calmly.
Yet even though we love green pastures and still waters, this is not what the New Testament has in mind when it speaks of peace. No, it’s more like the song of the Christmas angels. Remember that, from six months ago? The shepherds are tending the flocks by night when they are disrupted by an angel: “I bring you good news of a great joy.” Suddenly there’s a choir of angels, and what do they sing? “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth, peace among those whom God favors.” (Luke 2:14) Earth praises heaven, heaven gives peace to earth.
That’s what we are talking about. Peace is the affirmation that God rules over all things. In the night Jesus was born, God ruled over Caesar (who mistakenly thought he ruled the world). God ruled over the shepherds, normally forgotten by their society and pushed to the margins in poverty. God ruled over Mary and Joseph, young, confused, anxious about bringing a baby boy into a world like this. God ruled over all of it – and still rules.
That’s the truth about peace. Think of all the trouble in the world. Peace is the affirmation that God is bigger than this, God is in the middle of all of this, God will outlast all of this, ultimately God will correct all of this. That’s the truth of the Gospel.
Years ago, one of our ancient members stopped me after the worship service. “Do you know why I come to church?” she said. “It calms me down.” Are you saying the sermons put you to sleep? “No, no, no,” she replied. “The sermons wake me up. So do the hymns, the prayers, the presence of children. It reminds me that God is up to something, even if I can’t see it. And that gives me peace.” Peace.
Remember the invitation that Jesus offered in the first text for today. “Look at the birds of the air. They are cared for. Look at the lilies of the field.” Don’t look at yourself, look beyond yourself. Take notice how there is an unseen Benevolence that surrounds us and holds us. There is a grace greater than ourselves. If we can trust it, there comes a peace greater than our fears. We gain that peace by striving to see the Rule of God over all things.
And we’ve already heard from my ancient friend how to cultivate a sense of peace: go to church. That’s how she said it. Put yourself in a place where you can hear a lot more of God’s good news than the world’s bad news. Study the Bible. Make like-minded friends. Get involved in some activity that aspires to correct something wrong in the world.
Please note that I’m not suggesting that anybody withdraw from real life. Nor am I suggesting we overdose on religion as if it is some kind of opiate. Rather, I suggest we take responsibility for the stewardship of our spirits. That we fill our hearts and minds and hands with some gracious good news. Don’t let the darkness cloud your perspective. Find the Light and move toward it. Breathe in some peace. His peace.
In the words of a summertime hymn, “This is my Father’s world, O let me ne’er forget / that though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet.”
If we forget how God rules over the world, the weeds creep into the garden. In the wisdom of Brother James, he names some of the weeds: “Bitter envy, selfish ambition, boastfulness” (that is, an inflated sense of self), and a condition that James calls “false to the truth.” That is, a distortion of reality all rooted in lies. The weeds take over the garden. The evidence, he says, is “disorder and wickedness.” Aren’t we all a little tired of “disorder and wickedness”?
The alternative is God’s alternative. You know what it is: peace. Not the kind of peace that pulls a pillow over the head and pretends the disorder and wickedness aren’t there. Not the sort of peace that puts on a plastic grin and whistles a happy tune. Not the peace that attempts to control all the unmanageable circumstances. But the peace of God – the peace that surpasses understanding – the peace rooted in the confidence that God loves us no matter what, that God loves the world in spite of how that world treated Jesus, that God is working out all heaven’s purposes within us, among us, beyond us.
This is the peace that comes from the Holy Spirit. We welcome it, we rest in it, we pass it along.
The peace of the
Lord Jesus Christ be with you all.
(c) William Carter
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