Year C: Sixth Sunday of Easter: Peace That Conquers Fear

A Homily on John 14:23-29

My dear brothers and sisters in Christ,

As I stand before you today, I remember an Archbishop's conversation with a young mother in their parish. She came to him with tears in her eyes, carrying the world's weight on her shoulders. "Archbishop," she said, "I love Jesus with all my heart, but I'm so afraid. Afraid for my children's future, afraid of the violence in our world, afraid that I'm not strong enough to be the mother and Christian woman God calls me to be." Her words echoed in his heart because they reflected the fears that so many of us carry silently within us.

Today, as we gather around God's Word, I want to share with you the most profound answer to fear that has ever been spoken – words that Jesus gave to his disciples on that sacred night before his crucifixion. In John's Gospel, chapter 14, verses 23 through 29, we encounter Jesus at his most tender and reassuring moment. These aren't the words of a distant teacher or an abstract theologian. These are the words of our Lord and Savior speaking directly to the human heart that knows fear, uncertainty, and anxiety.

Let me reread these sacred words, and I ask you to listen not just with your minds, but with your hearts wide open: "Jesus answered him, 'Those who love me will keep my word, and my Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them. Whoever does not love me does not keep my words; the word you hear is not mine but is from the Father who sent me. I have said these things to you while I am still with you. But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of everything I have said. 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 heart be troubled, and do not let them be afraid. You heard me say to you, I am going away and coming to you. If you loved me, you would rejoice that I am going to the Father, because the Father is greater than I. And now I have told you this before it occurs, so that when it does occur, you may believe.'"

The Foundation of Fearlessness: Divine Love Made Personal

When Jesus says, "Those who love me will keep my word, and my Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them," he's establishing something revolutionary. He's not speaking about a distant God who might occasionally visit us if we're good enough. He's describing an intimate, permanent, transformative relationship where the very Trinity takes up residence within us.

Think about what it means for someone to make their home with you. When our families visit us, they might stay for a few days, maybe a week if we are blessed. But when someone makes their home with you, everything changes. They don't just visit – they belong. They share your daily bread, know your routines, and are present in your joys and struggles. They become part of the fabric of your everyday life.

This is precisely what Jesus is promising us. When we love him – not just with occasional feelings or Sunday worship, but with the kind of love that shapes how we live, treat others, and make our daily choices–then something miraculous happens. The Father and the Son don't just visit us occasionally during prayer time or at Mass. They make their home within us. They become our constant companions, our ever-present help, our source of strength and peace that never abandons us.

I remember visiting an elderly gentleman in the hospital several years ago. He was facing serious surgery, and his family was gathered around him, all of them visibly anxious. But this man, despite his physical frailty, had such peace radiating from him. When I asked him about it, he smiled and said, "Archbishop, I learned long ago that I'm never alone. Jesus lives here," he pointed to his heart, "and where Jesus is, there's no room for fear to take root."

That man understood what Jesus was teaching us in these verses. When we keep Christ's word and live according to his teachings of love, forgiveness, compassion, and service, we're not just following rules or trying to earn God's approval. We're creating space within ourselves for the Divine to dwell. We're preparing a room in the inn of our hearts for the most critical guest imaginable.

But notice something beautiful here. Jesus doesn't say, "If you're perfect, I'll come to you." He doesn't say, "If you never struggle or doubt, I'll make my home with you." He says, "Those who love me will keep my word." Love comes first. Love is the foundation. And from that love flows obedience – not the grudging obedience of a servant afraid of punishment, but the joyful obedience of a child who trusts their beloved parent completely.

The Promise of Divine Guidance: Never Walking Alone

As Jesus continues, he makes another extraordinary promise: "But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you." Here, my friends, is the antidote to one of our deepest fears – the fear that we don't know enough, that we're not wise enough, that we'll make the wrong decisions in crucial moments.

How many sleepless nights have we spent worrying about choices we must make? How often have we felt overwhelmed by the complexity of modern life, wondering how to navigate the moral challenges of our time, how to raise our children in a world that often seems hostile to our values, how to respond to suffering and injustice with both truth and compassion?

Jesus knows our human limitations. He knows that his disciples – including us – would face unexpected challenges requiring wisdom beyond their natural abilities. So he doesn't leave us to figure it out on our own. He promises us the Holy Spirit, the Advocate, the Counselor, the Guide who will teach us everything we need to know.

The word "Advocate" here is terrific. In the original Greek, it's "Parakletos," which means "one called to stand beside." Picture a courtroom facing a complex case, and suddenly the best lawyer in the world appears at your side, someone who knows every law, understands every precedent, and will never leave you to face the challenge alone. That's what the Holy Spirit is for us – not just a distant divine influence, but a personal advocate who stands beside us in every moment of decision, every crisis of faith, every time we need wisdom beyond our understanding.

I think of a young couple in a diocese who came when they discovered their unborn child would have significant disabilities. They were torn between their love for this child and their fear about their ability to provide proper care. "We don't know what to do," they said. "We don't know if we're strong enough." They prayed with a parish priest for the Holy Spirit's guidance. Over the following weeks, through prayer, conversations with other families who had walked this path, and quiet moments of reflection, they found themselves filled with peace and clarity they couldn't explain. They chose life, and that little boy, now five years old, has brought more joy and taught more people about love than they ever imagined possible.

That's the Holy Spirit at work – not necessarily making our paths easier, but making them more transparent, filling us with the courage and wisdom we need for whatever lies ahead. The Spirit doesn't just give us information; the Spirit forms us, shapes our hearts, helps us see with God's eyes, and love with God's love.

The Gift That Changes Everything: Christ's Peace

Now we come to the heart of Jesus' message, the words that should be written on our hearts and constantly on our lips: "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 heart be troubled, and do not let them be afraid."

Let's pause here and consider what Jesus is offering us. This isn't just any piece. This isn't the temporary calm that comes from avoiding problems or the shallow tranquility that depends on everything going our way. This is Christ's peace – the peace that sustained him through betrayal, torture, and crucifixion; the peace that enabled him to forgive his enemies even as they nailed him to the cross; the peace that conquers even death itself.

The world offers us many kinds of peace. There's the peace of entertainment that distracts us from our troubles. The peace of success makes us feel secure in our achievements. The peace of control comes from having everything planned and organized. But all these forms of peace are fragile. They depend on external circumstances that can change in an instant.

Christ's peace is different. It's not the absence of storms; it's the presence of God amid the storm. It's not eliminating challenges; it's the assurance that no challenge can separate us from God's love. It's not the promise that life will be easy; it's the promise that life will be meaningful, that our sufferings can become part of God's redemptive work in the world.

I profoundly learned this lesson during the darkest period of my priesthood. Several years ago, our diocese was rocked by scandal and betrayal. People I had trusted, priests I had considered friends, had violated the sacred trust placed in them. The community was in pain, my faith was shaken, and I found myself asking God, "Where are you in all of this suffering? How can your Church, which is supposed to be a source of healing, become a source of such pain?"

In that darkness, I discovered something remarkable. Christ's peace isn't dependent on the Church being perfect or Church leaders never failing. It's not even reliant on my faith being strong and unwavering. Christ's peace comes from his unchanging love, faithful presence, and promise that he will never abandon us, no matter how badly we might fail or how deeply others' failures might hurt us.

That peace sustained me through the long process of healing and rebuilding. It gave me the courage to face brutal truths, ask for forgiveness where forgiveness was needed, and continue believing in God's people's goodness even after witnessing the worst of human nature. That peace, my friends, is available to everyone, regardless of what storms you're facing in your life.

The Courage to Let Go: Understanding Jesus' Departure

Jesus then says something that might seem puzzling at first: "You heard me say to you, 'I am going away, and I am coming to you.' If you loved me, you would rejoice that I am going to the Father, because the Father is greater than I." Why would Jesus suggest that his disciples should rejoice at his departure? Wouldn't it be natural for them to want him to stay forever in his physical presence?

Here, Jesus is teaching us something profound about the nature of love and faith. Sometimes, the greatest act of love is letting go. Every parent knows this truth. We want to protect our children forever, solve all their problems, and shield them from disappointment. But true love requires that we gradually release them and give them the space and freedom they need to become the people God created them to be.

Jesus' departure – his death, resurrection, and ascension – wasn't an abandonment of his disciples. The ultimate act of love would make an even deeper and more universal relationship with them and with all of humanity possible. Through his physical departure, Jesus would become available to everyone, everywhere, for all time through the gift of the Holy Spirit.

Think about it this way: when Jesus walked the earth, he could only be in one place at a time. The people in Jerusalem couldn't benefit from his presence when he was in Galilee. The disciples who were with him in the morning might not see him again until evening. But through his death and resurrection, through the sending of the Holy Spirit, Jesus always becomes present to all people in all places.

He says, "If you loved me, you would rejoice that I am going to the Father." He's not asking them to be happy about losing him; he's asking them to trust that his departure will lead to something even more wonderful than his physical presence. He's asking them to believe that God's plan, even when it involves loss and suffering, is ultimately a plan of love.

How often do we need to learn this same lesson in our own lives? How often does God ask us to let go of something we treasure – a relationship, a dream, a stage of life, even our health or the health of someone we love – trusting that he has something even better in store for us? This doesn't mean that loss isn't painful or that we shouldn't grieve. It means that even in our losses and grief, we can hold onto the hope that God is working all things together for good for those who love him. 

The Foundation of Faith: Trusting in God's Promises

Finally, Jesus concludes with these words: "And now I have told you this before it occurs, so that when it does occur, you may believe." Here we see the pastoral heart of our Lord. He knows that faith is not always easy. He knows there will be times when his followers will be tempted to doubt, question, or wonder if God has forgotten them.

So, he gives them – and us – a gift: the gift of prophecy, the gift of knowing in advance that difficulties will come, but these difficulties are part of God's plan and do not indicate God's absence or lack of love. When the disciples saw Jesus arrested, beaten, and crucified, they could have concluded that everything he had taught them was false. But because he had prepared them and told them these things would happen, they eventually came to understand that even the cross was part of God's redemptive plan.

This is such an important principle for our own spiritual lives. God doesn't promise us that following Jesus will make life easy. Jesus himself warned us that in this world we will have trouble. But he also promised that he has overcome the world, and that nothing–not tribulation, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, danger, or sword–can separate us from his love.

When we face difficulties, when our prayers seem unanswered, when the forces of evil seem to be winning, when even the Church itself struggles and fails, we can remember Jesus' words: "I have told you this before it occurs, so that when it does occur, you may believe." Our struggles don't disprove God's love; they prove that we live in a fallen world that desperately needs the redemption only Christ can bring.

Living in the Peace That Conquers Fear

So, how do we live in this peace that conquers fear? How do we move from understanding these truths intellectually to experiencing them transformatively in our daily lives?

First, we must cultivate the love Jesus describes – the love that keeps his word. This isn't just about following rules; it's about allowing Jesus' teachings to shape our hearts, priorities, and relationships. When we truly love someone, we want to please them, not out of fear but joy. The same is true in our relationship with Christ.

Second, we must recognize and rely on the Holy Spirit's guidance. This requires developing a habit of prayer, not just formal prayers. However, those are important, as well as a constant awareness of God's presence, a practice of bringing every decision, every worry, and every joy before the Lord. The Spirit speaks to us through Scripture, the wisdom of the Church, the counsel of godly friends, and through that still, small voice within our hearts.

Third, we must accept Christ's peace daily, sometimes moment by moment. When anxiety rises, fear threatens to overwhelm us, and the world's chaos seems to be winning, we must remember Jesus' words: "Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid." We must consciously reject the world's false promises of peace and embrace the deep, unshakeable peace that comes from knowing we are loved, guided, and held by the God of the universe.

A Personal Invitation

My dear friends, as I conclude this reflection, I want to speak directly to your heart. Perhaps you're facing a situation right now that seems impossible. Maybe you're carrying fears that keep you awake at night. Possibly you're wondering if God cares about the struggles you're facing.

I want you to hear Jesus speaking these words directly: "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Do not let your heart be troubled, and do not let them be afraid." This isn't just a nice sentiment or a pious wish. This is a promise from the One who conquered sin and death, who holds your life in his hands, and who loves you more than you can imagine.

I mentioned that young mother at the beginning of this sermon. She left the conversation that day carrying the same challenges she had brought with her. Her circumstances hadn't changed. But she was different. She had received Christ's peace, not the peace of solving all her problems, but knowing she wasn't facing them alone.

Six months later, she wrote: "Archbishop, I still worry about my children's future. I still live in a world filled with uncertainty. But I've learned to live in God's peace instead of my fears. When anxiety comes, I remember that Jesus has made his home in my heart, that the Holy Spirit is my guide, and that nothing can separate me from God's love. It has changed everything."

This is the peace that conquers fear, my brothers and sisters. This is the peace that Jesus offers to each one of us today. Will you receive it? Will you let his words take root in your heart? Will you trust in his promises even when circumstances seem to contradict them?

Let us pray together that we might all experience more fully this peace that passes all understanding, this peace that conquers fear, this peace that can transform not only our lives but the lives of everyone we touch with Christ's love.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.