He was leaving them. The cold, hard truth settled around them like a pall. Fear tightened their throats. Anxiety settled like a ball of lead in their stomachs. They had been through so much together! Jaw-dropping miracles. Soul-stirring messages. Life-changing mentoring. Jesus was everything to them. They had given up everything to follow Him. Yet here He stood telling them He was going away. Without them.
It had been the disciples’ first thought. Since the moment Jesus called to them, “Come, follow me,” they had been doing just that. Following Jesus. Everywhere. Anywhere. They hadn’t turned back. He’d never asked them to do so. Until today. Today was different. Today He told them He was leaving. Alone. This time they couldn’t follow. (John 14:1-5)
The thought was inconceivable. Not once, in all their years of following, had their finite minds considered Jesus would leave them. So swallowed up in the fervor of service and phenomenon of the miraculous, they had never contemplated the notion. They hadn’t thought far enough ahead to consider the moment when death would separate them for a short while. If there was leaving to do, they assumed it would be one of them. A defector. Humans are like that. Fickle. Variable. Undependable. Not Jesus. Jesus was constant. Dependable. Unchangeable. At least He had been. Until now.
As Jesus’ words swirled around them, the disciples inwardly reacted. Worry threaded through their hearts. Fear wove its way into their minds. Dread settled in their stomachs. They had a million questions. They had to have. They were human. Although it seems they would explode in a cacophony of questions, only Thomas, Peter, and Judas voiced their thoughts. Perhaps the others were still mulling over His opening statement. Perhaps it echoed in their minds, reminiscent of words He’d spoken to them before. Perhaps they were reliving the last time Jesus had said to them, “Do not be afraid.” Don’t be troubled. Don’t worry. Don’t be alarmed. Trust Me. (John 14:1) It had been another evening when things seemed to be going pear-shaped.
The bright afternoon sun had long since dipped behind the hills allowing darkness to crowd out the last blush of daylight. Light breezes that had spent the afternoon gently teasing hair and clothing now gained a less playful force. Jesus and His disciples were headed to Capernaum. If they could find Jesus. Everyone else was already in the boat. They’d been waiting quite some time. They needed to leave if they were to race the winds. It would be an arduous journey. Eventually, safety won out. They needed to leave. Jesus would find His own way. He always did.
Buffeted by ever-increasing winds, the disciples strained to row their boat even a few miles. Muscles pulled and rippled with each stroke, but resulted in little gain. Exhausted from the effort and deeply concerned for their safety, they looked out across the hectic waves, gauging the distance to shore. What they saw stopped their oars and dropped their jaws. Walking toward them across perilously tumultuous waters, came a phantom clearly intent on boarding their vessel.
Vigorously rubbing shaking hands over terrified faces, the disciples cautiously looked again. Surely it had simply been the effect of their overtired imaginations! But, no. It was still there. Still walking. Still headed straight for their boat. Terror clogged their throats and bulged their eyes. They sat in frozen shock until they heard the words. Words of peace. Words of calm. Words of Jesus. “It is me. Do not be afraid.” (John 6:15-20)
Although His current command resonated with the same peace and calm of the one He issued across those wild sea waters on the way to Capernaum, their response was not the same. He was announcing His imminent departure. Their hearts were stricken with grief and sorrow. Their minds were whirling with questions about an uncertain future. Fear for their lives held them in its icy fingers. Yet Jesus stood there calmly commanding, “Do not allow your hearts to be overtaken by fear, anxiety, distress, or worry. Put your faith, your confidence in God, and trust His plan.” It would not be an easy command to follow. (John 14:1)
Things were coming that they had yet to truly understand. No matter how Jesus had tried to prepare them for His betrayal, trials, beatings, and death, they failed to fully grasp the weight of His words. They didn’t understand what it would look like to follow Jesus to the end of His life. They were too focused on following Him to the end of theirs. The idea of Jesus ever not being physically present was completely foreign to them. Surely, when faced with the loss, their hearts nearly fainted within them.
So often I get the feeling the disciples never really comprehended what Jesus was telling them in John 14 until they found themselves sequestered in fear after the crucifixion. Closed in on yet another evening, they huddled in fear. Doors locked. Windows shuttered. Candles gutted. Words were few and only whispered. Terror hung almost tangibly in the air. Their hearts were troubled. Their souls were distraught. Their minds were frazzled by worry. At the end of their resources, when hope seemed lost, Jesus came.
Stepping into their hideout, He spoke the same message He’d spoken so often before. A message of peace. A message of calm. A message of hope. “Peace be with you.” Peace in the middle of chaos. Calm in the midst of fear. Rest in a world of tumult. Hope in a risen Savior who had gone, not to leave them alone forever, but to prepare for them an eternal inheritance that cannot, will not fade away. Jesus hadn’t left them. He had simply gone to do His Father’s business. In all the turmoil around them, they’d forgotten His promise of a Comforter and allowed fear to extinguish their faith. (John 20:19-29; John 14; I Peter 1:4; John 16:7)
The feeling is so familiar. In our world so devoured by a culture of fear, it feels there is nothing to do but cower. Our society is hurtling down a collision course with Hell. Flagrant violations of Biblical proportions are lauded as good. Sin accepted. Evil condoned. My ears echo with the cries of the weeping prophet, Jeremiah, as though he were walking our streets, bemoaning our sin, calling out to the people of our day, “Go back to the old paths. Remember the path your forefathers walked to follow God. Find it. Follow it. Find rest for your souls.” Sadly, his words fall on deaf ears. (Jeremiah 6:16)
As a Christian living in these times of pressure and panic, worry and fear, I find myself constantly drawn back to the words Jesus spoke to His disciples. Words of faith. Words of peace. Words of strength and hope. Words of Jesus to those who traversed the evils of that day and we who must carefully travel the thorny paths of ours, “Peace I leave with you; My peace, the peace of soul only I can give, I gift you. Do not be deceived. My peace is not the same as the passing peace the world has on offer. My peace passes all understanding, settles down in your soul, and stays there. So. Do not allow your hearts to be troubled, worried, anxious, rattled. Do not be afraid…because I am with you now, will always be with you, no matter what is going on in the world.” (John 14:27; Matthew 28:20; Philippians 4:6-7; John 16:33; I John 5:4)
Don’t let the evil one’s fear extinguish your faith. Don’t be worried, rattled, troubled, or fearful of the things happening around you. Don’t let the world trick you with false peace, fake goodness, or faux joy. It will all pass away. Only the peace of Jesus Christ will last. May the peace of Christ rule in your heart above all things and allow you to walk boldly through the gauntlet of this world unworried, unrattled, untroubled, and unafraid. (Isaiah 26:3; Psalm 119:165; II Thessalonians 3:16; Isaiah 12:2; Colossians 3:15)
A Word for the Redeemed–Peace.