Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city. On either side of the river is the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, producing its fruit each month; and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. Nothing accursed will be found there any more. But the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will worship him; they will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. And there will be no more night; they need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever. (Revelation 22:1-5)
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid. (John 14:27)
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"The leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations." I was driving last week, listening to the radio, and it was nearing the top of the hour, when the music paused to recap the day’s headlines. First, the news told me more about Greece – the headline spoke of the fragile economy and the fear and shock that the nation feels. The news story went on to speak of the protests, and the unfortunate news that otherwise peaceful demonstrations had been hijacked by fringe groups and turned violent. Next, the news told me more about the dire situation in the Gulf of Mexico, as the wreckage from the oil spill nears landfall, and as new cleanup efforts begin. Finally, the news quickly touched on the aftermath of Arizona’s adoption of new controversial immigration laws and on the aftermath of the failed Times Square car bombing.
“And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.”
Recently, I spent a night away at LOMC on a retreat for pastors new to this synod within the last year. During one of our weekend devotions, we all were asked to answer the question, “What relevance does the resurrection story have for us today?” Nearly all of us answered that question by talking about the hope of resurrection – the way that resurrection reveals second chances, reveals life even in the midst of death, reveals a picture of the new creation. But Dina answered it differently. She recalled growing up in Palestine and worshiping on Easter day in Jerusalem. She spoke lovingly of her homeland, but lamented that walls and checkpoints and armed soldiers are part of daily life there. She shared that, to her, Easter has not yet happened for Israel and Palestine, and that the resurrection does not yet have meaning. She said that as long as there is a wall, and checkpoints, and armed soldiers, and as long as Jerusalem is a contested space rather than a shared and holy space, she fears that her home is still left broken at the foot of the cross on Good Friday.
“And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.”
Jesus speaks to his disciples, after eating the last supper with them and washing their feet. He gives them last instructions and encouragement before he faces his arrest, trial, and death. Surely feeling troubled by the fate he is about to face, he nonetheless tells his disciples “do not let your hearts be troubled.” With trembling heart, he says “my peace I give you.” Knowing that he is about to face death at the hands of those who would use violence to keep peace, he assures the disciples that the peace of God is not like the peace the world brings. And loving the disciples deeply, he encourages them to rejoice that his sorrowful journey is, at the same time, his return to the Father.
“And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.”
We do not have to look hard to find unrest in our world. And we do not have to look hard to find unrest in our own lives. We are hungry for peace. At the root of faith, for many of us, is the unwavering conviction that there must be something more than what the world can offer. Faith is sensitive to the temporary nature of this world. We know that wealth is fleeting and life is fragile. We also know that the peace that the world offers us is often conditional. It comes with a cost. And it, too, is imperfect and temporary, like anything else.
Faith drives us to the desire for lasting hope, lasting wholeness, and lasting peace. And our hunger for peace brings us back to Jesus’ words: “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.” Jesus tells us that he and the Father are one, and that he is sending us his spirit. In essence, Jesus is telling us that through him, we have received the gift of God’s own presence, and it is with that presence of God that we receive the peace of God.
Today’s images from Revelation awaken our imagination about what it means for God to come into our midst. The holy city descends from heaven, and without a temple, for there is no need to have a material sanctuary when we have among us the immediate presence of the fullness of the eternal God. From the city comes forth a river, and on the banks of that river grows the tree of life, whose leaves are for the healing of the nations. Revelation reinforces Jesus’ message: where the presence of God is, so also is the peace of God.
A pastor-friend of mine and I spoke recently, checking in on each other to see how the usual ups and downs of both life and ministry were going. We shared the things in our lives that were causing us stress, and we shared the things in our lives that were bringing us joy. At one point, we raised the question to one another, “Do you have things right now that bring you peace?” He shared that his early morning walks with his wife brought him peace. I thought about the peace that I feel when Matt and I walk or bike around the arboretum on Fridays. I thought about the places where I find God in prayer, and the places where I see God in this congregation and in my family.
And I realized that the places in life where I feel most at peace are the places in life where I feel most connected to God and my faith. That’s no accident. Feeling close to God in the wonder of creation, feeling close to God in the love of friends and family, feeling close to God in spiritual disciplines and faith practices – where the presence of God is, so also is the peace of God.
In your life, what brings you peace? Where do you most clearly encounter God and receive the peace of his presence? And where, in your life, are you called to bring the presence of God’s peace into the world?
“And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.”
The tree of life reminds us that our desire for peace and wholeness extends beyond us, into the world. For God’s presence and peace are not merely the personal matters of our own hearts. God’s desire for peace reaches out into the world.
Our final vision of salvation is a vision where the whole face of the earth is renewed. Creation, which up until now has been groaning, will be restored. The warring nations of the world will come together in harmony, as the lion and lamb lay beside one another. There will be no darkness and no fear, for God and the Lamb will be the light of the world. Hunger will be satisfied, needs provided for, and pains healed. The leaves of the tree will be for the healing of the nations.
Knowing this, we can face the world with hope. We can reach out to one another in love and work for peace and justice in our world. We can pray with confidence. For we have faith in a God who reaches out to us with his very presence, offering us wholeness and, of course, peace. We have faith in Jesus, the Lamb, who says to each and every one of us, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid. My peace I give to you, now and always.”
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