Sixth Sunday in Easter
In our high school yearbook, we were encouraged to write a short quote or statement of our hopes for the future. To this day, I am envious of the one a friend put under his picture: To leave a footprint on the sands of time. I thought that was brilliant. It is, of course, from a Longfellow poem. (Lives of great men all remind us, etc.). It was a way of expressing the hope that one’s life would be valuable for others. Others have been more prosaic in summing up their lives: to leave the world a better place. We may not have made epic contributions to humanity, but the world is better for our having lived. At least that much.
At the core of our self-awareness is the realization that our life is a web of relationships that sustain, challenge, and inspire us. And our hope is that we can leave a helpful footprint and benefit others. I am because we are. Primo Levi writes of his experience in a concentration camp where there was one man who reminded everyone of what it was to be human by the way he lived in dignity and integrity in an environment constructed to dehumanize and degrade. By remembering who he was, he reminded others of their dignity. It was his bequest to them. Unless we have been wounded or warped, there is a primordial desire to share and pass on the truth we have learned, the wisdom that will make the world a better place for everyone. Even the most rancorous debate in our society has at least a glimmer of a desire to persuade others of a “better truth.” A truth we could share. A peace we could enter.
Today’s Gospel is a continuation of Jesus’ last will and testament, his bequest to his community and the world. Peace I leave with you. My peace I give you. He is not giving us an escape route or a program for conflict management. He is giving us Himself. He is our peace. If we love him, we will keep his word. He and the Father will come to dwell with us. He offers us a new environment, a new creation, a communion in His very life. Peace I leave with you. What are the implications of accepting this gift and bequest? How do we keep this word? Can we dare any longer to affirm or support environments which dehumanize and degrade? Is it consistent to insist on privacy, personal rights and security at the expense of serving the communion we have with God and one another? Peace is this communion in God whose very life is disposal for the good of others. To leave the world a better place.
If we look at the record of our success in making the world a better and more peaceful place, it dismaying and discouraging at best. What we see by looking in the mirror offers faint hope for future prospects. But we are called to turn our faces from the mirror to the image, the image in which we were created, the image which fuels that desire and prayer for peace, for Christ who is our peace.
Whoever loves me will keep my word. And my Father will love him and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him. Keeping Christ’s word is obviously a life-changing and even risky engagement. It is to be constantly reminded and taught by the Spirit to live by the imagination and vision of God. The Holy Spirit whom the Father will send in my name will teach you everything and remind you of all that I told you. To keep the Word is to totally conform to its imperatives and challenges. It is to say to God: I am because we are. This is a word which is kept only by giving it away. The word is a way of being, of living, of believing, of suffering, of loving. The Word made flesh. This is the truth that Jesus wants to share with us and through us. It could really make the world a better place.
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me bring your love.
Where there is injury, pardon.
Where there is doubt, faith.
Where there is despair, hope.
Where there is darkness, light.
Where there is sadness, Joy.
For it is in giving that we receive,
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned.
It is in dying that we are born to eternal life.