Christmas Gifts in July

Christmas Gifts in July

Peace I leave with you. My peace I give to you; not as the world gives, I give to you. Don’t let your heart be troubled, neither let it be fearful. John 14:27

Now that I’m retired from ministry there are a few things that I’m beginning to understand about life. And, there are a whole bunch more questions, but we’ll leave that for another time. Here is one thing that I’ve learned: No none likes to be told what to do.

Even the best leaders in business give people objectives and not specific instructions. A leader who is constantly telling people what to do quickly is seen as a micro-manager and someone who does not trust her team. But, if they can delegate responsibilities and allow others to accomplish the objective in their own way, the team members see themselves as valuable and trusted.

I wonder how often as Christians we tell people what to do, or what they should be feeling, or how they should be experiencing the world. “Jesus left us peace. So, you should feel peace no matter what is going in on your life.” “Jesus left us peace. Here are four ways to achieve that peace in every circumstance.” “Why are you so anxious all the time? Don’t you know Jesus gifted you with peace.” And on and on and on.

I understand that sometimes people respond to such exhortations, and I do not want to exclude them entirely. But we also need to take a step back and realize none of us experience peace (or joy, or faith) one hundred percent of every day. And, some peoples’ lives have been so disrupted by hardship, that for them, even accepting that peace is possible is an immense challenge.

I almost decided not to write about this verse today. Most who read this already know my situation, and I won’t belabor it. The short story is I retired early due to health reasons and now my wife and I live with my sister and brother-in-law in Texas. Patti is working, I suffer pain every day, and do not have a vehicle at the house. I would much rather still be in Washington near our daughter, but we have to finish paying the mortgage on our home there before we can move back.

All this is not how I envisioned my life at 64. So, the situation, along with chronic pain and clinical depression, have produced a situation that is not conducive to feeling a lot of peace. And, if someone wrote me a letter with this verse as a heading, I probably would not receive it well. It would sound like they were telling me “Hey, dude, buck up. Grab the peace that’s there for you!” (As if, after 40 years of ministry I was entirely unaware of Jesus’ promise.)

But, if I received a note that said, “I’m thinking of you. I know this is probably one of the hardest times of your life. Wish I could do something. Try your best to find some peace in the middle of it all. I understand how difficult that must be right now,” I would rejoice. No, I would weep, with joy. It would be a human touch that transmitted the presence of Christ.

When my mother died in 1987, she was only 53 years old. She lived in Upstate New York and had bought a Victorian home she hoped to remodel into a Bed and Breakfast. Unfortunately, she never was able to fulfill her dream.

When we heard of her death my sisters and I met up in New York to grieve together, comfort her husband and each other, as well as have a memorial for her in the little village she had called home. We pulled up in front of the old house in the car we rented. Though in some disrepair, it was beautiful, and fit our mother’s sensibilities to a t. We walked up onto the porch that circled the entire house, knocked on the door, and our step-father beckoned us in.

After hugs and greetings, he gave us a tour of the house. One thing caught my eye almost immediately. In the corner of one room were at least half a dozen wrapped Christmas gifts. But Mom died in late July, so I asked about them. Those were the gifts Mom had bought for us and her grandkids, but never had the funds to mail.

In the middle of our grief we all laughed. Mom always made sure to gift her kids, and especially her grandkids. It hadn’t gone without notice that there was nothing under the tree from her the previous Christmas.

We looked at each other, picked up the gifts, turning them over, looking at the labels and wondering what exactly to do. Eventually we unwrapped them. I cannot tell you what the gifts were, I do not remember. But it affected us deeply that Mom kept those presents wrapped and ready for us.

Jesus told his disciples that he was leaving them a gift: his peace, his shalom. Shalom is more than feeling calm. It is the common greeting in Hebrew, and is a desire for wholeness, purpose and goodwill in a person’s life. It goes far beyond living without anxiety. Jesus’ gift is purpose in life that is not defined by career, popularity, good looks, or any of the outward measures we use. It is an inner awareness that we are so valuable to him, that he has bequeathed that purpose to us forever.

The disciples didn’t respond exactly as Jesus suggested; their hearts did become troubled, they were fearful. Within a few hours they would see Jesus taken away by military might, tried unjustly, beaten to with inches of his life, and hanged on a cross in the cruelest form of punishment invented by mankind.

Peter denied Jesus out of fear. The disciples scattered during the crucifixion, later to be found huddling out of fear in the upper room. But, after the resurrection they discovered the peace Jesus had promised. Now some of them would be treated in the same way. Yet they would ask forgiveness for their persecutors, they would pray instead of denying the love Jesus had brought into the world.

I do not want to tell you that you should be experiencing peace in this very moment. Grief over our mom’s death overshadowed our happy discovery of the Christmas gifts. Of course, it did. And the struggles of the present, the pain of the past, the fear of the future can all work against the sense of peace Jesus promised. But I do want to remind you that he did promise that peace, well-being and sense of purpose. I am slowly learning that, now that my “purpose” is no longer in being a professional minister. Indeed, much of my time is spent simply nursing this 11-year-old headache. One day this week I spent only eight hours out of bed.

But, if you will accompany me on this journey as we seek to let the presence of the risen Christ give us peace, maybe we can encourage each other in our difficult moments, and avoid simply telling each other, “Hey, you oughta have peace.”