In 1940, during World War II, London was under siege. Every night, bombers roared overhead, dropping bombs on homes, hospitals, schools, and churches. Families took cover underground in subway tunnels, in shelters, anywhere they could hide. The air above was thick with smoke and fear. One night, a visiting journalist walked through a shelter after a raid. He noticed something surprising: a small boy, about five years old, fast asleep in his mother’s lap, relaxed his head on her bosom like it was the safest place on earth. The journalist asked the mother, “Were you not afraid?” She replied, “Yes, I was afraid. But my son was not looking at the sky; he was looking at me. As long as I was calm, he felt safe.” That child slept peacefully that night not because the world was peaceful, but because he was close to someone he trusted; because he focused on the one he trusted.
In today’s Gospel passage, we are in the Upper Room on Holy Thursday, where Jesus ate his last supper with his apostles just before his arrest. The Cross is only hours away. There is tension in the air. The disciples know something strange is about to happen, but they have no idea what it is. They are battling many uncoordinated thoughts, and in whispers, they compare notes with one another; each apostle wants to know if the other apostle has the same strange feeling as he does. Then, amidst this tension and irregular heartbeats, Jesus says, “Peace I leave with you. My Peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid.”
It is so striking that Jesus is speaking these words not after the resurrection when everything is alright again; he is saying these words before the storm, before Judas’ betrayal, before his arrest, before his agony in the Garden of Gethsemane, before Peter denied him, and before they nailed him to the Cross. He saw the storm coming, yet he spoke of Peace. He explains that his Peace is not the kind the world offers.
What kind of Peace does the world offer? The world offers the kind of Peace that depends on control, distraction, and avoidance. The world offers peace of control, which says, “If I can manage everything, I will be okay.” The world offers peace of distraction, which says, “If I stay busy or entertained, I will not feel anxious.” The world offers peace of avoidance, which says, “If I don’t deal with my wounds or conflicts, they might just go away.” This worldly Peace is shallow; it does not last. As soon as life gets hard, it falls apart. The Peace Jesus gives is the Peace that comes not from avoiding the storm; it is the Peace that comes from his presence in the storm.
May is a month the Church dedicates to reflecting on the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and seeking her intercession. The Blessed Virgin Mary is a perfect example of one who knew how to receive and trust in the Peace Jesus gives in the Upper Room in today’s Gospel passage. Just take a moment to think of all Mary went through. At the annunciation, the Angel stormed her with the news of the Virgin Birth, at the presentation, Simeon told her a sword will pierce her soul, at the age of twelve, her divine son went missing for three long days, she witnessed her innocent son carry a cross that was not his, and die a death that was not his. This humble and saintly mother remained under the Cross until they placed the lifeless body of her only child on her lap. Despite all of these, Mary did not collapse or run. Why? Because, like the five-year-old boy in our opening story in London, Mary was not looking at the sky; she was looking at the One she trusted, she was looking at God. Remember, she had said at the annunciation, “Behold I am the handmaid of the Lord, let it be done to me according to your word.”
My dearly beloved in Christ, what is the situation in your Upper Room today? Is it the quarrel you had with your spouse? Those words you said to him or her this morning that you deeply regret, and you don’t know how to apologize? Is it the recent notice from your landlord/lady or the rumors about layoffs in your place of work? Is it that doctor’s report that you wish was just a dream? Is it the loss of a loved one? Is it the test or exam you have failed again? Is it that troublesome child that keeps you awake all night? Or is it something else that did not make the cut on this list? Yes, you may not be hiding in a bomb shelter like the woman and her son in London, but you have your peculiar tension in your Upper Room, and Jesus knows it. That is why he tells you today, “Peace I leave with you… Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid.”
But how do we hold onto that Peace? We do so like the child in the shelter by staying close to the one we trust. We do so by staying close to Jesus Christ in the Holy Eucharist. We do so by praying the rosary to sit beside Mary to learn from her stillness and trust in God. The London skyline did not bring Peace that night in 1940; it brought terror, but the child slept peacefully because of his mother’s presence. In the same way, the world around us may not bring us peace, but Jesus does, and Mary teaches us how to trust. May our participation in the Holy Eucharist accomplish in us that Peace that can only come from God until we come to our heavenly inheritance, through Christ our Lord. Amen.
Homily for 6th Sunday of Easter Year C 2025
Well put Fada!!!!!