Summary: A sermon for the 1st Sunday in Advent.

“Peace”

Isaiah 2:1-5; John 14:27

(Some ideas and themes for this sermon come from the Book: "Almost Christmas: A Wesleyan Advent Experience")

“This is what Isaiah son of Amoz saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem.”

In chapter 1 Isaiah graphically laid out what was going on in Jerusalem at the time he spoke the words in Chapter 2: There was violence, bribery, unfaithfulness, desolation, and trampling on the poor.

There were brief interruptions as God called for repentance and offered glimpses of hope, but they are drowned out by these pictures of violence and rebellion.

Then Chapter 2 opens as though Isaiah is starting all over again -- or God is.

People of every nation will stream to Mt. Zion, including those who were enemies of Israel and Judah.

God’s instruction will go forth from Jerusalem; God will judge between the nations.

The people will be transformed by God’s teaching.

Can you see it?

They will beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks.

Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore.

Who can believe that?

Do you know that Isaiah’s words are carved into the wall across from the United Nations building in New York?

Who do you suppose believes these words across the street as they blame Iran for simmering tensions in the Middle East, as they wring their hands over hundreds of thousands killed in Syria, and as North Korea blames the United States for the vicious cycle of increased tension?

Like almost all the images we will see during this Advent season, Isaiah’s picture of swords turned into plowshares seems absurd.

Or is it?

I mean Isaiah was a realist. His pictures in Chapter 1 are as graphic as the evening news:

“Your country lies desolate,

your cities are burned with fire…”

“And daughter Zion is left like a booth in a vineyard,

like a shelter in a vineyard, like a city under siege.”

“Everyone loves a bribe

and runs after gifts.”

“They do not defend the orphan,

and the widow’s cause does not come before them.”

Isaiah isn’t naïve.

This vision of weapons of war turned into agricultural tools, images of death-dealing turned into food-producing is a promise for “the days to come.”

It comes to us from the future, and longs to shape the days in which we are living now.

Imagine you’re on a long road trip.

And after hours behind the wheel, you see the first sign that shows the name of where you are going and how many more miles until you get there.

And this, kind of gives you mixed feelings doesn’t it?

I mean, first, it’s good news because you know you are getting a lot closer to your destination.

But, it’s also kinda bad news because you aren’t there yet, and you still have a long way to go.

Your back is aching, your stomach is rumbling, your eyes are tired and your mind is getting numb from the seemingly endless roads, but you still haven’t arrived.

This is the tension we face in the Advent Season.

It’s the now and the not yet.

We talk about Jesus Who is coming again to be with us, even though we know He is already here.

We speak of the presence of “peace on earth and goodwill to all,” but the evidence around us feels like it’s a long way coming.

And although society sings that this is “the most wonderful time of the year,” we know that the distance to the ultimate destination feels very far indeed.

It doesn’t take much to realize how many miles we have to go before we get to the destination of true peace.

And then think about the lack of peace in your own heart.

Perhaps you are unsettled about the future.

Maybe there is some unfinished business that keeps you up night after night.

Do you have conflict going on against your own inner demons of guilt and shame?

Do you have an inability to control your anger, fear and sinfulness?

Oh, we all do our best to make it seem as if we are at peace.

We laugh, we joke.

We cover up our insecurities, we put on a good face in the midst of the chaos of our lives in order to convince others—and even ourselves—that things are better than they are.

But on the inside, we are far from peaceful.

We might even be afraid.

It should be no wonder that each one of the characters in Jesus’ birth narrative had very similar struggles as our own.

None of Jesus’ closest family and friends had perfect, trouble-free lives when He was born.

That’s why, for each of them, the angel’s first words were: “Don’t be afraid.”

Over and over again in the Gospels, we are reminded that the world Jesus entered was a world that needed a whole lot of peace.

And it wasn’t just a need for peace in society and in relationships, but it was a need for peace deep within the human heart.

And that is still the case is it not?

I mean, we all have times when we struggle for a peace within; a peace which transcends all understanding.

I sure do.

Sometimes I can get so caught up in the tension of balancing work and trying to keep my family happy that I find I am a stressed-out mess.

It’s as if I think I can solve all the problems of the world if I just work harder.

But that isn’t relying on God is it?

It’s relying on self.

And we can’t save ourselves.

We can’t bring peace to ourselves.

Instead, we must go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the temple of the God of Jacob.

He will teach us his ways, so that we may walk in his paths.

It’s easy to forget this isn’t it?

And God knows this about us.

This morning I read from Isaiah, but I also read from John Chapter 14.

And from John Chapter 13 to John Chapter 16—three and a half chapters—Jesus spoke to His disciples, uninterrupted except for the questions His disciples were asking.

That’s over 150 verses, which is one of the longest collections of teachings and sayings of Jesus, even longer than the Sermon on the Mount.

And it couldn’t come at a more important time.

Jesus is downloading His final set of instructions to His disciples in the final hours of His life.

Moments before His arrest and death, He was telling His disciples the most important things He wanted them to remember when He was gone, much of which can be summarized with five words in John 14:27: “Peace I leave with you.”

In fact, Jesus’ speech ends with more about peace: “I’ve said these things, so that you may have peace.

In this world you will have trouble.

But take heart!

I have overcome the world!”

After this, Jesus prayed to God, then went to the garden where He would be betrayed and arrested.

Peace was His last gift to His disciples before He died.

Yes, this is the First Sunday of Advent.

And it might seem strange for me to be talking about the end of Jesus’ life right as we are getting ready for the beginning of it.

But if we look at the whole of Jesus’ life, what we will see is that from the beginning until the end, a reoccurring and connecting thread is that Jesus came to bring peace.

He was born into a world that needed peace.

He lived in a world that needed peace.

And He was leaving a world that would need to know peace.

The kind of peace that Jesus talks about comes from the Hebrew word “Shalom.”

Unlike our word for “peace,” which can simply mean an absence of conflict or war, or a feeling of contentment, the definition of shalom is much bigger.

It means peace but it also means “wholeness, completeness and fullness.”

It starts with a wholeness in ourselves.

Then it offers wholeness in our relationships with others.

Then, as relationships are restored, we can have shalom communities and eventually a shalom world.

The kind of world where people rush up to the mountain of the Lord to learn His ways.

And the weapons of war will seem so absurd and useless that we will beat them into instruments for the harvest instead of bloodshed.

In John 14, Jesus is preparing His disciples for the time when He will no longer be with them…

…for the in-between time…

…the time we are still in…

…He has promised them that He will send the Holy Spirit to them to live inside of them, and then He says, “My peace I give you.”

When Jesus offers His disciples this peace—this shalom--Jesus is offering them a part of Himself.

He is leaving with them with a part of Who He is as a way to help them through troubled times.

Think about what that would have meant to the disciples.

They had watched as Jesus was able to sleep on a boat in the middle of a storm.

He showed them how to be calm even during the storms of life, and how to settle the waves and wind with just one word.

Yes.

He was giving them that peace from within Himself.

They had watched as Jesus was able to stand up to those who were challenging Him in public, and trying to undermine everything He was trying to do.

He showed them how to speak without shame, to walk through the crowds without fear, to stand up for what is right, and to even forgive His murderer’s as He was dying on the Cross.

He was offering them THAT peace.

And do you know what?

Jesus is offering us that same peace as well!!!

And when we accept Jesus’ offer of peace, deep down in our hearts, we grow stronger.

Our confidence grows.

Our fear diminishes and is replaced by a fierce and abiding love for God and for other people.

And our lives are transformed.

And as our lives are transformed, we begin to transform the lives of others with outward acts of beating swords into plowshares…

…like feeding the hungry…

…forgiving those who wrong us…

…loving our enemies…

…looking out for the widows, the orphans, the marginalized.

Isaiah says, “Come, descendants of Jacob, let us walk in the light of the Lord.”

And this is what it looks like, and before we know it, Isaiah’s promise of peace isn’t as far off in the distance as we thought it was.

Advent is a time of longing and preparation for Jesus to come, but at the same time Jesus is already among us.

It’s the same with peace.

We look at the world around us, and at the conflict within us and we think that peace is a long way off.

But the possibility for peace is already here.

It is available to us as a gift from the Prince of Peace Himself.

He offers it to us, through His life, death and Resurrection.

If we accept His gift, the Holy Spirit takes up residence in our hearts, it transforms us and helps us to have and give the peace that only Christ can bring.

Hallelujah.

Amen.