Readings

In this morning’s collect we prayed “in our time grant us your peace.” What are we praying for? What would an answer to this prayer look like? In John’s account of the last supper we hear Jesus say “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives.” (14:27a). “Not as the world gives:” I wonder if that warning lies behind Paul’s “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding” (Phil. 4:7), language picked up in the blessing at the close of the Mass. When we pray for peace, what are we praying for? Let’s work that question as we go through today’s readings.

The Deuteronomy reading, part of one of the many paragraphs in the book dealing with life in the land the people are about to enter. Rather than consult soothsayers, necromancers, sorcerers, etc. the people are to listen to the prophets the Lord raises up. When there is need, the Lord will not be silent; the Lord will speak. That confidence that the Lord will not be silent may be part of the peace for which we pray. Of course, whether we will like what the Lord says through the prophet is a different question. That’s the issue lying just under the surface of our Gospel reading. ““What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth?” Too often that’s the question thrown at the Lord’s prophets not by unclean spirits, but by the Lord’s own people.

Our reading from Paul’s letter. The Corinthians had asked about food sacrificed to idols. In Corinth, as in most cities in the Empire, there would be multiple temples, many of which sacrificed animals in worship of their god, whose meat would be consumed either by those present in the temple or sold to the general public. That the Corinthians asked about this and from Paul’s response it’s clear that the question was disputed. The Corinthians were probably hoping for a simple yes/no answer; what they got was three chapter’s worth of reflection that mostly threw the problem back in their laps. (Quick moral: if our formula for peace is “Just tell us what to do”…) We hear part of Paul’s reflection this week, part next week.

Paul starts by contrasting knowledge and love: “Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up.” Yes, knowing that these gods aren’t real you can make a case for pigging out. But what of the fellow Christian who sees you in the temple and concludes that maybe it’s OK to combine worshipping Jesus with Jupiter, Apollo, etc. That’s where love needs to kick in, otherwise “by your knowledge those weak believers for whom Christ died are destroyed.”

There are a couple of points to tease out here. First, the peace for which we pray isn’t a matter of peace in my heart, never mind what’s happening in my neighbor’s heart.

Second, if we contemplate arguments in the church, past or present, they’re mostly about competing claims to knowledge. When the language of rights is introduced, my knowledge gives me the right to do X: game, set, match. This is, of course, the way arguments go outside the church. From Paul’s perspective the tragedy is that the church rarely offers a different way of holding together knowledge and love. “In our time grant us your peace.” After reading Paul we’re thrown back on Jesus’ “Blessed are the peacemakers,” and acknowledge—hopefully—how much we need to learn. “Grant us your peace” and “teach us to be peacemakers” may be two sides of the same coin.

Our reading from Mark continues the Epiphany revelation/manifestation theme. Still drawing from the first chapter of Mark, we encounter Jesus, “the Holy One of God,” against whom the unclean spirits are powerless. Jesus’ power: that’s good news, and part of the foundation of the peace for which we pray. Unclean spirits: an issue in many other parts of the world, not so much here. Here, between drugs and Madison Avenue unclean spirits might be overkill.

But back to the text. All this, notice, occurs in a synagogue. Had Jesus not shown up, it would probably have been a peaceful gathering. Jesus shows up, perhaps thinking this a good way to answer the “grant us your peace” prayer.

Now by this time you may be wondering whether this “peace” has any positive content. Well, yes. It assumes and nurtures relationship, both vertically (Deuteronomy) and horizontally (Corinthians). It understands that we’re works in progress (Corinthians) and that that’s OK. It assumes and nurtures trust, and therefore courage, so that Jesus can say just hours before his arrest “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid” (Jn. 14:27). With this peace Jesus finds a storm in the middle of the Sea of Galilee a good moment for a nap. I could use some of that peace.

“In our time grant us your peace.” And after today’s readings we might add some additional prayers. From Deuteronomy: “And grant us ears to hear what you have to say to us.” From Corinthians: “And teach us to be peacemakers.” From Mark: “And save us from confusing peace and tranquility.”

William Percy, author of today’s offertory hymn (#661) nailed it: “The peace of God, it is no peace, / but strife closed in the sod. / Yet let us pray for but one thing— / the marvelous peace of God.”