These things I have spoken to you, so that in Me you may have peace. In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world.
– John 16:33
We can all appreciate a good oxymoron, those phrases where seemingly contradictory terms work in complimentary fashion. “Awfully good,” “sweet sorrow,” “Civil War,” “only choice,” and everyone’s favorite, “jumbo shrimp:” these are just a few of the many oxymorons common to our vernacular. Whenever I hear an oxymoron, in the back of my mind I think, “isn’t it odd how we have chosen to use those terms together?” It may be odd, but somehow it works.
Occasionally Jesus would make statements that are categorically oxymoronic. For example, Jesus taught that one must lose one’s life in order to gain it (see Luke 17:33). On this sacred night, as Jesus shares his last words with his disciples, one of the assurances he offers is that they will have peace in the midst of tribulation. Sounds a bit oxymoronic, doesn’t it? For clarity, tribulation means great trouble and suffering. In contrast, peace conveys tranquility, order and wellness. It is difficult to reconcile how to have both at the same time. One could make a strong case that peace and tribulation are mutually exclusive, and yet Jesus tells his friends to expect both, not alternatively, but simultaneously.
Once again we find ourselves in a moment where Jesus is sharing from a source of understanding the disciples do not yet have, or at least one they have not yet fully grasped. To the disciples, peace looked like the absence of trouble, not the presence of it. The peace for which they yearned looked just like what the Romans were establishing. “Pax Romana” was peace by economic and military might. How do you keep that kind of peace? By snuffing out resistance. This is obvious enough just by reading the Gospels. The Jews longed for a messiah simply so that Israel rather than Rome would have the power, and therefore establish peace on their terms. In all fairness, there was much more to their messianic hope. Still, the Jew’s most immediate desire was to have power swing back in their direction.
This was not the kind of peace Jesus had in mind. We might even contend that Jesus wouldn’t call this peace at all. The ability to reasonably keep uprisings at bay doesn’t even come close to the Jewish idea of “shalom,” which is far more than the absence of conflict. Shalom is about wholeness, fullness of life. You might say it points to life as God intends in its most pure form. Shalom is the banner of God’s perfect Kingdom. And here is the essential point: God establishes the Kingdom first of all in our hearts. His first action is not the restoration of the structures around us (although that will eventually come). His first work is to restore us! Before peace is established on the thrones of our world, it is established on the thrones of our hearts.
Many months earlier, Jesus had given his friends a beautiful picture of how powerful this peace really is. You may recall the night Jesus and his disciples were in a boat on the Sea of Galilee. A fierce storm came, and Jesus somehow was able to sleep through it. (For a refresher, see the blog post Nap Weather.) His friends couldn’t understand at the time how Jesus could sleep. Later—much later—they would understand. They would know the peace that transcends understanding, the peace that comes from the one who has overcome the world.
I have to imagine that months and years down the road the apostles would recall the words Jesus spoke not long before his death and think, “It didn’t make much sense when he told us, but now I get it.” How can one have tribulation and peace at the same time? Only by the grace of God. What doesn’t make sense to the world, God does in grand fashion. In the world the apostles and every follower of Jesus will have trouble and distress. In the the face of it all, the words of our Lord still have the power to prevail: “Peace, be still.”
Our time in the Upper Room is finished. Let us move now to a garden.
The Winding Path 