“Peace I bequeath to you, my own peace I give you, a peace the world cannot give, this is my gift to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid.” (John 14: 27)
Peace in today’s Gospel (John 14:27-31), does not essentially mean “feel good” or “lack of violence” – it is about the covenant relationship with God that no one or nothing can take away (see Romans chapter 8, especially verse 38-39: “For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”)
It is peace with God because Jesus as Savior reconciled us on the Cross and sealed it with the gift of the Holy Spirit.
Saint Eugene writing to his mother in 1811 (XIV n 93):
But would we want to win heaven at no cost to ourselves? No; so let us place all these contradictions at the foot of the cross of our good Jesus; let us offer him throughout the day all that we are doing to please him, and after that let us be at peace.
He urges her to unite herself more often with Jesus in prayer, especially in his Eucharistic presence:
Dear mother, are you not going a little more often to the source of all consolation? Cannot you hear this Saviour, who calls to you from his tabernacle: Dear soul, why am I humbled here like this? Is it in vain that I keep on re-echoing these selfsame words that I said to my disciples: come to me, all you who labour and are heavy-laden: come and I will give you rest, and restore you; unite with me in this intimate union for which I remained with you, and balm will flow in your veins, and your soul will be filled, strengthened, renewed.
This is the same assurance that Jesus gives to his disciples at the Last Supper as he prepares them for a different way of living in a world that is rapidly changing for them. We, too, are his disciples adjusting to new realities and to us he says: Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid.”
Last night I was exhausted as I climbed into bed. I slept soundly but during the early morning hours I found myself waking off and on. I do not have a clear memory of my thoughts but I seemed to be carrying the things that I was too tired to complete last evening. After worrying about what I had not done I found myself, or a voice within me singing “Be not afraid, I go before you always, come follow me and I will give you rest.” Then as the words of the verse were forming they would recede into the world of sleep and I would rest. I found myself repeating this exercise a few times during the night – my memory hazy and veiled as is often the case in those periods between sleep and wakefulness.
To awaken this morning and enter into this place it seems to continue for here we have St. John, St. Eugene and Frank all pointing the way to the same message.
“…unite with me in this intimate union for which I remained with you, and balm will flow in your veins, and your soul will be filled, strengthened, renewed.” These words are intimate, deeply personal. They do not over-take me or control me, however their invitation captures me, captures the wants of my heart. The only way that I can accept is to let go of those worries and fears that I have somehow managed to tighten in me; it is them which would rob me of true rest and peace. “This is why I created you, within my heart, this is why I loved you before time began. Let me hold you close in my heart. Do not fight me, simply let go and surrender to my love.”
There are no tabernacles or open churches for us to sit and rest in these days. It would seem that we have no recourse but to enter into that which is deep within us. Those places deep within us that are the true tabernacles of God’s love. It is here that our Beloved awaits us.
Perhaps people have been searching for a false external peace in materialism–homes, lavish private boats and private planes, cars, jewels, power–rather than the internal offered free for the taking from our Lord. I grieve the temporary loss of Mass and the Eucharist. I miss hearing the priest saying the words. So simple and yet so powerful. The temporal world offers no peace no matter how hard we look. We cant find what isn’t there.