This week two thoughts were foremost in my mind. One thought was quite normal for a preacher as well as a basic necessity. What shall I emphasize Sunday morning when I am using for my text the words of Jesus which he spoke on his last night upon earth to his disciples? "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you ..."

The other thought was quite different. I remembered that 31 years ago last Wednesday I was ordained into the ministry at the fiftieth anniversary of Trinity Church. After my father gave the sermon, I stood before him; Dr. Hugh Bannen, Trinity’s first pastor; my father-in-law, Dr. Abdel Ross Wentz, then president of Gettysburg Seminary; and Dr. Armin Weng, then president of the Illinois Synod (ULCA). At a certain point in the ordination service I knelt as those men placed their hands upon my head. In the words of the ancient liturgy of the church I was declared a minister of the Church of Jesus Christ. The laying-on of hands, the hands which were placed upon my head, has been traced back, generation by generation, to the early church of the first century.

As I pondered these thoughts, it occurred to me that the one thing most people have sought as I have met with them in all circumstances through these 31 years is peace, inward peace. I have been truly grateful to God that during my busy and unusual ministry he has given me peace, an inner peace when outward circumstances were far from peaceful. Do you want to know the reason? I will answer with a story. A minister on vacation went to visit a boyhood friend who operated a candy and novelty store. While they were reminiscing, a little boy about six years old came in and asked if the man sold marbles. The owner showed him where the marbles were. The boy asked, "How much, mister?" "Ten cents a dozen," answered the owner. The boy stood there scratching his head for awhile. Finally the owner asked, "What’s the matter, son, don’t you have ten cents?" "Yes," replied the boy, "but that is all I got." Then the pastor stepped over to the boy and said: "I just happen to have a special marble fund. Here is a dime. Take it and buy the marbles." The boy stood puzzled for a moment, not knowing what he should do. Finally he reached for the dime and said with a burst of joy as he handed it to the clerk, "Gee whiz." Taking the marbles and looking the pastor in the face, he repeated: "Gee whiz," and then ran out the door.

Then men laughed about the incident. Soon they saw the boy returning, leading another little boy by the hand. One of the men said, "It looks like he has found a pal and is bringing him in to get another donation from the marble fund." "You can’t blame him for that if his friend wants marbles, too!" replied the other man. But both men were mistaken. The two boys stopped at the open store door. The first boy, holding his bag of marbles in one hand, looking up with loving eyes to the giver of the dime, raised his other hand and pointed to the man and turned to his little pal and said: "That’s him." And then the boys ran as fast as their little legs would carry them.

Where do we find peace, genuine peace, inner peace, in the midst of life’s battles? Look at Jesus Christ. "That’s him, folks, that’s him." He gives us peace.

Shortly after I moved into my new study, now over fifteen years ago, a member of the church gave me an unusual picture of Christ. There have been many times, and probably not enough times, when people have come into my study tense, frightened, filled with anxiety, and burdened with guilt. I have pointed to Christ’s picture and said: "He will give you peace if only you will open your heart to him." Then I have told them of his promise on the last night of his earthly life.

Picture, for a moment, that night. Jesus knew that within twelve hours he would be taken as a criminal, hung upon a cross, and before sundown the next day would be buried in a tomb. How would you feel? What would you do? What would you say when you met with your closest friends for the last time? Jesus’ disciples knew that something serious was about to happen. Their hearts pounded with fear and grief beyond anything they had ever experienced. The atmosphere was electric with tension because they knew that all hell was about to break loose. Yet Jesus stood before them in perfect serenity and said, "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you ..."

Those were not idle words nor were they the sort of Pollyanna remarks we hear so often from superficial minds which mean so little. His words came from a heart and mind that knew the heartaches and disappointments of life here and now. His words came from one who had come from God, who walked with God, and who was about to return to God. He knew the meaning of life and knew that at the heart of the universe was God, who loves and cares for all his children. He knew that God can give an inner peace, that he can create a center of calmness and confidence even in the midst of storm and conflict. He promised his disciples that even if the worst should come to torment their days, they still can have peace knowing that God will be with them.

We sometimes forget that there are two kinds of peace. There is what we might call a worldly peace. And there is what we could say is a heavenly peace. What do we mean by these different kinds of peace? A character in a novel says of another person, "He has peace of mind after a good dinner when his pipe is drawing well." This is worldly peace. On the surface it appears to break the tension of life. It gives rest from the trials and tribulations of the day. But in reality it is no more lasting than a tranquilizer drug. When it wears off, nothing has

changed. It is a kind of mental blackout which gives "peace" when there is no genuine peace. It is a kind of peace which prompted a troubled worker to place a note on the bulletin board of his shop: "If you like it here, thank God you don’t understand what is going on."

Worldly peace is basically temporary and varies among people. To a lazy person, peace means freedom to loaf. To one who is active, peace gives an opportunity to work without interference and interruption. "Leave me at peace," says a man as he walks out of his home to go fishing, or as an executive grumbles to his secretary as he seeks to clean up the work at his desk. "It was a peaceful rest," remarks a physician when he returns from a vacation where the telephone could not reach him and patients could not find him. A worldly peace is that kind of peace where the troubles and pressures of life are temporarily blotted out, as the clouds, for a while, blot out the sun. This peace is only brief and incomplete. Once the outward circumstances change, the tensions, anxieties, pressures, and guilt return as rapidly as they left.

But Jesus was talking about a heavenly peace. This is a peace which is real and permanent even when outward circumstances do not change. Thirty years ago I read a remark made by a devout Christian during World War II which I have never forgotten. A proud Englishman who loved his country and his city, London, was first and foremost a man of God. One night in the midst of London’s heaviest air raids, he looked out and saw the heart of London in flames. He was heartbroken - saddened beyond words. But there was still an inner peace within him. After gazing speechlessly for awhile, he turned to his frightened neighbors and said: "I’m going to bed. My Bible tells me that God neither slumbers nor sleeps. And I say, ‘To heck with Hitler,’ I’m going to sleep and let God take over." That is heavenly peace.

This week I called at the hospital upon a truly peaceful man. He faced a serious operation. He startled the nurses and even his surgeon with his amazing calmness and cheerfulness. When asked by a nurse how he could be so completely relaxed and at ease he remarked: "I have placed my life in the Lord’s hands. I have nothing to fear. I know he will be with me. One day, when he is ready I will be with him." That is heavenly peace.

A story was written some years ago about a man who had discovered an amazing inner spiritual peace. He had lost his entire fortune in the stock market crash in the 1930s. He was drinking himself to death. He decided to take his life by walking out into the ocean and swimming past the point of no return. As he came to the edge of the water, he noticed something sparkling in the sand. It was a pale, delicate shell. He stood there, completely captivated by it. Finally he picked it up. It was so delicate that the least pressure of his fingers would crush it. Yet it was undamaged and perfect. He was puzzled by this fact as the waves roared in upon him. How could a shell remain intact and unbroken in the midst of the tons of seething water? Suddenly it dawned upon him that the shell did not panic, fight the forces of the water, and seek to forge its own path in the ocean. The shell simply yielded itself to the waters. It has accepted the storms with calmness, just as it had accepted the stillness of the depths of the water where it had its beginning. By yielding itself to the water, it survived. Suddenly the man saw himself. He had been fighting God, disobeying him, and trying to defy the spiritual forces at the heart of the universe. He realized now why his life was troubled, and his days were not worth living. He dropped to his knees and placed his life in God’s hands. He walked away into a new life of faith.

Here we come to the core of heavenly peace as that man discovered it in the secret of the shell. Heavenly peace is not fighting God but obeying him. We shall never achieve harmon)’ within ourselves or with others or even with the world until we achieve harmony with God. It is almost needless to ask - who are the people who live with a civil war within themselves? Those who are restless, torn apart by anxieties and fears, tense and nervous with each day? Those who are frightened by every call or unexpected encounter with another person? They are the people who have lived contrary to the word of God - those who have sought to play God with their life and live by their own rules. They, by their own choice, have closed the avenue to heavenly peace.

Isn’t it strange that we are tempted to look for peace every place but where it is found? Some people seek the psychiatrist’s couch, others try medicine, John Barleycorn, lustful pursuits, or emotional flings. But we never will achieve peace within ourselves until we place our lives in God’s hands and live according to his will and laws. God’s peace comes to us as his gift when we seek to live in harmony with him.

Martin Luther was the most restless of men. His deep sense of sin stirred within his soul and gave him no rest or peace. "Oh, my sins, my sins," he groaned. His senior priest made him repeat again and again: "I believe in the forgiveness of sins." Yet Luther still felt guilty. Finally his priest said: "God is not angry with you, Martin. You are angry with God."

One day Luther suddenly grasped the truth - that peace is not the absence of tension or problems within oneself. Peace is a right relationship with God, an experience of his forgiveness, a new confidence in God’s love, and a new desire to walk with him. He saw that, through the cross, Christ forgave his sins and in his Resurrection gave peace to those who live with him.

Saint Augustine, the great saint of the church, said, "Our hearts are restless until they rest in thee." He spoke from the depths of a deep spiritual experience. As a wild rebellious youth, he deserted God, religion, and faith. The emptiness of his life threatened his very existence. In despair he prayed, "Oh God, forgive me of all my sin - but not yet." And back he went to spend his youthful passions in immorality. Again the hollowness of his unholy life began to plague his days, and he prayed the second time "O, God, forgive me for all my sins - save one." He left his prayer just short of total commitment. He still refused to plunge into a life of faith. Again he returned to his sinful ways, but this time experienced a total lack of peace which tormented his soul beyond his ability to endure. Finally he came back to God and deeply, sincerely, and resolutely surrendered his life to Christ praying, "O God, forgive me for all my sins and do it now. Amen." With these words a new peace and a new joy flowed into his heart and mind. He knew as never before the words of the Lord: "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you ..."

Our Father, thank you for your peace.

We praise you that while the storms of life rage

and the winds howl,

we can have inward calmness.

Help us always to remember that you are always

behind the dark clouds.

Let us walk not only in courage, but in confidence

that with you we are never alone.

Give us that peace which passes all human

understanding.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.