St Margaret's Church Prestwich

Rev Sue preached this sermon on Sunday 25 May 2025. Here it is for you again:

I read this quotation from CS Lewis many decades ago, but it has stuck firmly in my mind. He was asked the question:

“Which of the religions of the world gives to its followers the greatest happiness?”

He replied:

“While it lasts, the religion of worshipping oneself is the best. I have an elderly acquaintance of about eighty, who has lived a life of unbroken selfishness and self-admiration from the earliest years, and is, more or less, I regret to say, one of the happiest men I know. “

I remember it, because I really didn’t want it to be true. I wanted Lewis to tell me that riches and pleasures don’t bring happiness, but that it comes from giving our lives in the service of God.

But he goes on to say:

“I didn’t go to religion to make me happy. I always knew a bottle of Port would do that. If you want a religion to make you feel really comfortable, I certainly don’t recommend Christianity. I am certain there must be a patent American article on the market which will suit you far better, but I can’t give any advice on it.”

And I think Jesus is saying a similar thing when he tells his disciples

“My peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives.”

Worldly peace comes from making sure that you can look forward to a good pension, paying off your mortgage and having your children happily settled in life. There is nothing wrong with these things in themselves, but the peace they bring does not have a firm foundation. Disaster can strike, one way or another, and the peace flies out of the window leaving nights spent worrying about the future.

Another false kind of peace is the mere absence of conflict. How many relationships seem calm on the surface, but beneath that calm are years of avoiding tricky issues. have eroded real trust and intimacy. Problems are hidden, not solved and resentments quietly fester. To resolve conflict, we need to be able to express our feelings, to feel heard and then to compromise, taking the other person’s point of view into account.

The same is true of peace on a global scale. In 1938 the then Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain and other European leaders met with Hitler to discuss the German territorial claims in Czechoslovakia. An agreement was signed conceding those territories in exchange for the promise that there would be no further territorial demands. As Chamberlain walked down the steps from the plane he waved the document proclaiming “Peace for our time”. The second world war began a year later. The trouble with appeasement is that it doesn’t work. Giving in to bullies provided they promise to leave you alone rarely goes well.

Earlier this month, 59 white Afrikaners from South Africa arrived in the United States, classified as refugees by the Trump administration. The government asked the Anglican organisation responsible for resettling refugees to find them homes. That was 2 weeks after the government had shut down a major refugee programme. The dilemma was this: would the church allow these white South Africans to jump ahead of thousands of would-be refugees who had been undergoing years of vetting and processing. Or would it refuse, ending any government grants and a partnership that had gone on for 40 years. If it took a stance, it would mean that it couldn’t continue to help people in that way. They decided to end all ties with the government and receive no further grants from them. They didn’t choose to bend rules for the greater good.

In John’s Gospel, peace isn’t mentioned at all until this chapter. Perhaps when Jesus was there beside them every day, being in his presence alone brought peace. Now, like children sleeping away from their parents for the first time, the disciples need to cope without his physical presence. Like a good parent, he is preparing them in advance, because although the actual time he would be away from them was just three days, they were about to experience the most traumatic time of their lives.

Jesus gives them peace, and he tells them not to worry or be afraid, because he would soon be back, and then the Father will send them the Holy Spirit.  It’s a two-stage gift: peace now, and peace reaffirmed. The first words he speaks to them after the resurrection are again: Shalom. Peace needs reinforcing.

There’s a story in Mark’s Gospel of a man who was blind from birth. Jesus used his own saliva to anoint the man’s eyes. Jesus asked. “Can you see anything?”. The man replied, “I can see people, but they look like trees, walking.” Jesus laid hands upon him again, and this time he could see clearly.

In my experience, healing is not something that happens suddenly. It may appear to, but that is because the very last barrier has fallen, and the fruits of months or sometimes years of prayer have finally come to fruition. In my work with men in prison, it is very rewarding when I see a leap forward in their release from the inner bonds that shackle them, but I usually know that I am reaping the work of seeds sown by others. Conversely, when I work with someone who doesn’t seem to be making much progress, I pray that others later will build upon the work we have done together.

The peace that Jesus gives is a deep sense of well-being. Importantly, it is a gift. We don’t achieve it by our own efforts, nor is it dependent on who we are or what we have done. It is simply there, waiting for us to recognise it. It’s as though we are wandering in the desert, dying from thirst, walking right past the oasis but not even seeing it. All we have to do is open our eyes. The issue is trust. Dare we believe the promises of Jesus and accept that we are not in control of our own lives?

This is not a passive peace. It is the peace that gave the disciples courage and joy, even when they were arrested and eventually martyred. After Pentecost, they did not retreat into private serenity—they preached, healed, and turned the world upside down. It is also a contagious peace. Martin Luther King Jr. once said, “Be the peace you wish to see in the world.” And peace does begin in the human heart. So let us open our eyes to the gift Christ has already given. Let us dare to trust. Let us live that peace—not just for ourselves, but as a sign to a world in desperate need of it.