When I was growing up, the 4^th of July was a sacred holiday. Both of my parents served in World War II – they even met in the Army! It was clear that peace was not something to take for granted. So we celebrated – attending our town’s parade in the morning, and watching fireworks at night.

And in between, we would drive to the Armenian Congregational Church’s annual picnic. I loved watching the old people play backgammon, the men grill kebab, the women serve their hand-made baklava. It never dawned on me that they were celebrating peace too; so many of them had escaped the genocide.

I think of peace differently now than I did as a child. It is not a “given,” but a precious gift to be treasured. And, in this turbulent, uncertain season, I’m aware of how fragile this crucial gift is.

How do we protect peace? There is no easy answer. I’ve been reading Bonhoeffer again, and am moved by his call to community. Recently, I read Matthew Hockenos’s biography on Niemoeller, Then They Came for Me, and was reminded of how blind we can be to threats to freedom. And I read Bishop Mariann Budde’s book How We Learn to Be Brave: Decisive Moments in Life and Faith, which presses us to continue to make choices, no matter how hard they may be.

But the wisdom that moved me the most? It was another “holiday” this Spring:  Star Wars Day. Not the 4^th of July, but May the 4^th. You likely know the story. The galaxy is embroiled in a conflict between the forces of good and evil – between the Jedis’ Rebel Alliance (Obi Wan Kenobi, Luke Skywalker, Princess Leia, Han Solo, Yoda), and the Galactic Empire (Darth Vader and his sycophants). As Tara Kennedy highlights in Catholic Weekly, “When the Rebel Alliance goes to war against the Empire, it fights for human rights and human dignity against a brutal, power-hungry dictator  … a titanic struggle of the forces of light against the powers of darkness.”

The powers of darkness are no small thing. Darth Vader is indifferent to others’ suffering, and will use any cruel tool to advance his mission. Yet through it all, there is an even stronger force at work, as we’re reminded over and over again when we hear these words: “May the Force be with you.”

This Spring, when I watched the original episode again, I finally realized what George Lucas was doing with these words. I’d always heard them at best as an encouragement, and at their least, a sort of frat-house greeting. But this time, I understood in a new way. When Obi-Wan Kenobi is leaving Luke, and tells him that the Force is with him, he means much more. He’s teaching Luke to remember that he’s never in this alone – that the Force is really with him, always – not just as an idea, but a real presence – a power far greater than his own – a power far greater than all the evil in the universe.

And suddenly, I heard Jesus’ words – “Peace be with you” – in a new way.

At the end of his all-too-real battle between good and evil, love and hate, Jesus teaches his disciples: “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). And again, after his resurrection, he appears to them, saying multiple times: “Peace be with you” (John 20:19, 21, 26).

After all that Jesus’ followers had been through – including the failure of their own betrayal – he tells them, “Peace be with you.” And they know that it is more than just a greeting. “Peace be with you” means that he is with them, and through the Holy Spirit, he will be with them always. Christ’s presence, his power, his peace, will be with them long after he’s physically gone.

For over 40 years in ministry, I’ve said I believe in the “real presence” of Christ at the communion table … I’ve said the words, “peace be with you,” the words, “the Lord be with you,” over and over again. I’m not proud to say that I finally understand what these words mean. That “Peace be with you,” like “the Force is with you,” is more than a greeting, more than an encouraging word.

What if “peace be with you” is our reminder that Christ is really with us still, right here, right now? What if it’s our assurance that we’re not alone in our battles against the powers of darkness in this world? That the force of love really is stronger than the forces of evil, and hatred, and vengeance, and greed. That even the worst of people can still be redeemed, not because of our eloquence or virtues, but because the Peace of Christ will really win. That Christ’s presence is really here with us; that Christ’s Spirit is really filling us; that God’s power is really leading us. And nothing – nothing can take it away.

Friends, may the peace of Christ be with you – in whatever battles you’re facing.