Homily to Women’s Group

What follows is the text of a homily I preached today to a group of women on the occasion of the annual general meeting of their organisation:

At the end of Mass we’re told to “go in peace”. Such a welcome phrase, one that can cause the heart to leap. It can encourage us, steady our wobbling hearts, motivate us to just be and live Jesus’ message of peace.

These few words come from our scriptures where that little phrase occurs about twenty times. Jesus said “go in peace” on at least two occasions: when he healed the woman with the haemorrhage (Mark 5:34, Luke 8:48), as we’ve just heard, and at Simon the Pharisee’s house, when he forgave the sinful woman who wept at his feet and anointed them with ointment (Luke 7:50). In both stories, Jesus bestows this personal blessing on suffering women. “Go in peace” are words of healing and forgiveness.

Is this “go in peace” a blessing upon us or a command? I like the idea of it being a blessing, warm and reassuring of God’s presence and love for us. It soothes our innermost selves and our worshipping community. Yes, it is surely a blessing.

Yet I often hear “go in peace” as a command. In the context of the Eucharist, these words have a larger meaning. The peace of the Eucharist is a charge to take our faith in Jesus and his gospel message into every part of our lives. It’s a command to be a peacemaker. And being a peacemaker is not an option.

To do that, we must constantly set our mind and heart toward the habit of seeing and acting as if every woman and man is our sister and brother in Christ. Sometimes that’s called a conversion. But it is always a virtue.

When we celebrate Eucharist, nothing less is demanded of us. We celebrate and re-enact the redemptive act of Jesus. When we stand to receive Communion, we’re standing in faith with the intention of carrying out Jesus’ command. When we sip from the chalice, we’re indicating, yes, to that question of Jesus: “Can you drink from this cup that I am drinking from?” The cup of suffering for the sake of Jesus is a suffering for and with each other. We do it in community. We do it imperfectly. But our goal is clear.

In this time of “war on terrorism” there is a reluctance to listen to words of peace, to be at peace, to spread peace, to do the things that make for peace. Nor is peacemaking a popular topic at our dinner tables or at hotel bars.

People are dying. Some by military might. Others by weapons sold and given away around the world. The lives taken are those of civilians, often women and children. Soldiers survive and soldier on. We hardly notice. Our government asks no sacrifices of us — but surely our participation in the Eucharist does.

If we are comfortable, it may be hard to see just how challenging it is to “go in peace” as a Christian. We can be tempted to want our Christian faith-life to be just as sweet and cosy as are many other facets of our lives. But Jesus didn’t live that way — and neither do his followers.

Could it be this is a challenge we find so uncomfortable because it could cause us to make serious changes in our worldview and upset our daily routines? We would rather stay with the problems we do know, rather than get a whole new set of problems.

We need solutions, perhaps not yet tried, that are consistent with the message of Jesus. The use of nuclear weapons, the arming of outer space, military action both covert and overt, undercover spying, detention without charges, and a ballooning military budget do not make for peace.

As wives, mothers, grandmothers, and great grandmothers, as the creators and nurturers of human life, you are called to “go in peace”, to challenge all Christians to take our faith seriously, to call for a shift in attitudes about war and violence. May God’s Holy Spirit be with you in this task.