Peace, man!

This sermon was written for our service on April 16th 2023; the second Sunday of Easter. The Gospel was John 20:19-31. I hope you enjoy reading it!

My little girl, Miriam loves a bedtime story. I think, if we’re honest, we all do, don’t we? Mine - to be honest - are often televised, and Isaac and Jen both have Kindles, which I’m not sure either of them would ever want to live without again.

For Miriam, though, it’s a picture book. Two of her favourites are by the same author. When I say her name, many of you will know of her. But, even if you don’t recognise her name, I’m sure you’ll know of her books.

The author is Jill Murphy. She wrote 'The Worst Witch' books, which Miriam is a bit too young for, but I’m sure will love reading in a few years. She also wrote two series of books about animal families; a family of elephants called Large, and a family of bears - called (either unimaginitively, or very cleverly) Mr Bear, Mrs Bear and Baby Bear.

Miriam’s favourite books are from these series - ‘Five Minutes Peace’ and ‘Peace at Last’. They’re very enduring books - I remember reading them myself as a child; maybe you do too, or perhaps remember reading them to your children or children you know?

Peace. It can be so elusive, can’t it? That’s effectively the theme of both of those stories - Mr Bear and Mrs Large just want to find some quiet; one to sleep, and one to have her breakfast, maybe a bath; but the world - and maybe their families - conspire against them. It’s all too noisy, and too busy.


Our Gospel reading this morning is famous. We always read it on the second Sunday of Easter, and we all know how Thomas disbelieves his friends’ account of the resurrection until he sees the risen Jesus with his own eyes.

But, I’d like to look at a different theme within it this morning; the theme of peace.

Jesus speaks six times in our Gospel today. Three of those statements start ‘Peace be with you’.
That’s not just me over-emphasising the traditional Jewish greeting, Shalom, by the way. John, when writing his Gospel has made the setting plain. Our reading starts in fear.

It is the evening of the first day of the week. That’s a Sunday. In context, this is last Sunday; Easter Sunday - the day of the resurrection. Jesus’ body has disappeared, the disciples have fled from the tomb, and the authorities are searching for grave robbers and quickly trying to dispel this absurd rumour being spread by a handful of hysterical women that they’ve seen this dead man walking around. The place is a tinderbox, with the slightest spark threatening to start a riot - or a revolution.

And - in the context of this noise - potentially with search parties and angry mobs outside - the disciples are cowering in the upstairs room of a locked house. They’ve likely never been more scared in their lives. And then, to cap it all, their dead friend appears in the room with them.

Honestly, imagine you don’t know this story already, and put yourself in their place. I said earlier that I like to watch TV before I wind down for bed, but the one thing I can’t watch late at night is a horror movie. And this is horror movie territory.

But Jesus, as always, flips the situation. To the terror, and the horror, Christ speaks peace. 

Peace be with you, he says.
And then again, Peace be with you.

And then, the next week, when he appears again and Thomas is with them this time, he says it again. Peace be with you.

The crowds outside are still angry. Peace be with you.
The authorities are still looking to quell this revolution, through violence if needed. Peace be with you.
The world is forever flipped on its axis, and nothing will be the same ever again. Peace be with you.

Christ is risen. He is risen indeed! Peace be with you!

This peace is different, isn’t it?

The world thinks that peace means quiet. In Miriam’s books, that is what Mr Bear and Mrs Large are searching for; silence to sleep by, or a few minutes alone to drink a cup of tea, have a piece of cake and enjoy a bath.

Those things are important - especially important if you have children - but that is not peace. It’s not the peace of Christ, anyway.

The peace that Christ offers does not need the world around you to be still. It exists in the midst of fear, not just when fear is abated. It cannot be lessened when all around is chaos. The peace of Christ lives on - and rises through - death and destruction. 

Christ's peace is not the peace of ignorance; it exists full in the knowledge of the situation all around.
Christ's peace is not the peace of acceptance of defeat either. In both these situations, it knows the end game, that the darkness will never overcome the light, that Love wins, and that we all must pay our part in bringing that about. It is the peace that enabled martyrs throughout the history of Christ’s Church to give their lives to this cause; the only cause worth dying for.
Christ's peace is the peace that calms in the tiniest boat tossed about on the stormiest sea.
Christ's peace is the peace that lights the fire of hope and boldness in the darkest and most hopeless situation.
Christ's peace is the peace that even when nailed to a cross, and pierced with a spear, and dies and is buried and is left sealed in a tomb rises and lives again and shines brighter than it ever did before.  

Christ's peace is the peace of God, and it passes all human understanding.

It is the peace of God, and - if you want it - it is here for you today. Like Christ to Thomas, God opens his hands to you today. Come and touch. Come and see.

Peace be with you. Christ's peace is yours to take.

If you want it, Christ's peace be with you. Peace at last. Peace that lasts.
Much more than five minutes - Christ's peace lasts for eternity and beyond.

Peace be with you.

Amen.