Before he died, Jesus wanted give his followers the peace of the Holy Spirit, who would counsel them and guide them in all truth.

We all know that loss comes to every family, and rarely on our schedule. Sometimes it arrives without warning, and the news leaves us in shock. Other times it comes at the end of a long struggle—when the body has fought hard and the spirit is ready for the next life. Some resist to the end; others receive death as a kind of mercy.
But for those who anticipate their own passing, they want to prepare their loved ones as much as they can. I’ve seen this up close. My own father faced his last couple of years thinking more about his family and the legacy he would leave. This story, like so many of yours, reminds me that the hardest part of death is not the leaving—it’s making sure those who stay behind will still know they’re not alone.
Never Alone
In the last couple of years as he battled cancer, my father knew that as he left us, we would need comfort. So, he encouraged us Smith men to spend a lot of time together. He wanted us to be at peace, to settle whatever unresolved conflicts there might be, and to experience a permanent ceasefire. We did a lot of anticipatory grieving, especially in Dad’s last month.
I don’t know what I would have done without my brother, Paul—and I think he’d say the same thing about me. Dad knew that when he departed, he wouldn’t be leaving us alone. A bit of his spirit lives on in us, and we can be there for each other.
When Jesus was preparing his disciples for his departure, he wanted to remind them that they would not be alone after his death. So, in John 14:12-21, Jesus told them that he was sending a counselor, the Holy Spirit, to help them. Jesus would not leave them as orphans. Because of this Holy Spirit, we can know that we’ll never be alone.
Jesus’ Departure is a Good Thing
In my article, “Does the Holy Spirit Point to Jesus? Or the Other Way Around?” I write about Jesus preparing his disciples for his departure. I make the audacious claim that…
Jesus never wanted us to make it all about him. He spent his three-year ministry preparing his followers to live without him. If he wanted it to be all about him, Jesus never would have left. He would have stayed in his resurrected body, hanging out on earth for the past couple thousand years to bask in our worship. But he didn’t do that. Instead, he said, “…It is for your good that I am going away. Unless I go away, the Advocate will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you (John 16:7).”
Jesus wanted his life to be an example for us, but he wanted the Spirit to guide us in his absence. A good parent raises their children to be independent—gaining enough wisdom to lead their own families, and to thrive long after the parent is gone. So too, Jesus didn’t want us to be so focused on the cross of history that we neglect the present breath of the Spirit.
Reunion with Our Source
Again, in John 14:28, Jesus says, “You heard me say, ‘I am going away and I am coming back to you.’ If you loved me, you would be glad that I am going to the Father, for the Father is greater than I.” What does this mean? Jesus was fully God but limited in time and space. He would have been foolish if he had made his focus all about the three years he ministered to a handful of people in Judea. Instead, he wanted to make it about something bigger.
When Jesus said, “The Father is greater than I,” he meant that in the sense that the ocean is greater than the falling drop of rain. Yes—Jesus is fully God and the Father is fully present in Christ, just as the droplet and the sea share the same essence. Yet, the droplet is limited in time and space. It came from the ocean and to the ocean it will return. The droplet would be silly to put all the focus on itself, when it knows we gain fulfillment by our oneness with the ocean.
I remember standing once on the shore at Virginia Beach, watching the tide roll in and erase my footprints. One moment, they were distinct impressions in the sand—my little mark of presence—and the next, the sea took them back as if to whisper, “You belong to me.” That’s how I imagine Jesus felt when he spoke of returning to the Father: not fear, but a kind of homecoming tide.
For this reason, Jesus said that we should be glad that he is returning to the Father. Death is not something to be feared—it is reunion with our Source.
Limited in Time and Space
Think of everything Jesus taught his followers in his short three years. It was a lot! We got four Gospels out of it—but of course, we know that these are only four of the Gospels written in the generations after Jesus’ death. In the last verse of John’s Gospel, the author says, “Jesus did many other things as well. If every one of them were written down, I suppose that even the whole world would not have room for the books that would be written.”
Jesus said and did far more than the world’s volumes could contain. Yet, his activity was limited in time and space and thus was lacking something. It was lacking continuance. The Holy Spirit provides that continuance. While Jesus’s life, death, and resurrection are rooted in history, the Holy Spirit makes it alive today.
Holy Spirit, Our Unlimited Teacher
This is why Jesus says in John 14:25-26, “All this I have spoken while still with you [rooted in time and space]. But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you [emphasis mine].”
Do you want to know what the Spirit of Christ would say about things that Jesus never mentioned in the four Gospels? Things like what God thinks of LGBTQIA2S+ folks, or how believers should vote, or reproductive ethics, or Christian nationalism, or science, medicine and technology—if you want to know these things, that’s what the Holy Spirit is for. Because Jesus couldn’t have taught everything about everything, but the Holy Spirit leads us into all truth, and reveals the mind of Christ in each of us today.
Sometimes when I walk beside the Fraser River, I might notice a plastic bottle on the riverbank and think: Jesus never had to preach about microplastics, but the Spirit still speaks there—reminding us that creation groans for redemption. The Spirit teaches in places the Bible never mentions. That’s what makes divine truth alive, not bound to parchment but flowing like that river, whispering what Christ would still say if he were standing beside us today.
My Peace I Give You
But the Holy Spirit doesn’t just show up as our unlimited divine teacher. The Holy Spirit is also our peace. In verse 27, Jesus says, “ Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid..”
The Holy Spirit is synonymous with the peace of Christ. In John 20:22 the resurrected Jesus will breathe on his disciples and say, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” Then, the next thing he talks about is their need to forgive. It is only with the peace of the Holy Spirit that we are able to forgive the worst that people can dish out. Some mercy may be possible on a human level—but real, universal, and everlasting reconciliation only comes through the Spirit.
The Peace to Reconcile
I’ll say it again: The peace to reconcile comes only through the Spirit. This isn’t the kind of peace that the world gives.
The world only believes in the kind of peace that politicians can promise or diplomats can deliver. The world believes it can accomplish peace through war, so much that it names missiles “Peacekeepers.” That irony is sharp enough to draw blood.
I have spoken with veterans who came home with emotional damage from the things they saw and did. They realized peace isn’t something you can shoot for—it’s something you learn to live. These stories stay with me because the storytellers aren’t bitter, just honest. Christian veterans can embody what Jesus meant by a peace not as the world gives.
Reconciliation Instead of Retribution
And this week, as we approach Remembrance Day in Canada and Veteran’s Day in the US, we honor those who gave their lives believing that peace was worth fighting for. We wear poppies not to glorify war but to remember the human cost of it. In this remembrance, we hold gratitude and grief at the same time.
In that sacred tension, we discover the peace Jesus offers—one that outlasts war and forgives even those who crucify. So, If we think our security comes through the sword, then we are not living into our identity as Christians. If we believe the Church must marry the monster of Empire then we have confused the Pax Romana with Pax Christi.
Instead, Jesus gives the peace of the Holy Spirit, who guides us toward reconciliation instead of retribution. Because he is our supernatural ceasefire, we do not need to let our hearts be troubled or afraid—even when the world is not at rest. Since God himself is our fortress, we have a peace that passes understanding.
In the Context of the Cross
We must not read these words of Jesus out of context. Jesus did not speak these things into a vacuum. This was part of his “farewell discourse,” like a father’s last words to his sons before his final breath. Jesus wasn’t offering a temporary tranquility that lasts only in the good times—Jesus spoke of peace on his way to the cross.
In John 14:29, Jesus said, “And now I have told you before it comes, that when it does come to pass, you may believe.” The It that Jesus spoke of was his arrest, torture, humiliation, and death. He wanted his disciples to witness this serenity of his, when It happened. He wanted them to feel the presence he had to withstand the physical abuse—and to offer prayers and peace with his last breath. For it is only in the context of the cross that peace becomes more than a hippy’s symbol.
A Powerful Ending
John gives his fourteenth chapter an ominous ending but doesn’t leave it without hope. In verses 30-31 , Jesus says, “for the prince of this world is coming. He has no hold over me, but he comes so that the world may learn that I love the Father and do exactly what my Father has commanded me.”
The prince of this world represents the diabolical forces behind Judas’s betrayal, Herod’s inequity, Pilate’s injustice, the people’s bloodthirst, and Rome’s cruelty. All of these are coming. And Jesus faces them in faithfulness to his life of love.
But note the expression of hope that Christ thrusts like a firebrand in the blackness: “He has no hold over me.” And with that word, the serpent is defanged. The devil is defeated as Jesus leads us from darkness into glorious light. When we echo this anthem, we can do the works that Christ has done.
Jesus says in verse 23, “Anyone who loves me will obey my teaching.” Many individualists don’t like this notion of obedience. But Jesus isn’t asking us to do anything he hasn’t modeled himself. In verse 31, Jesus says, “I love the Father and do exactly what my Father has commanded me.” So, when we follow Jesus’s example, we confront the principalities and powers with light and love. No matter how much the darkness fights back, we know that resurrection’s light will scatter gloom.
Get Up and Get Going
Finally, in verse 31, Jesus says, “Come now; let us leave.” It’s his call to get up and get going. Jesus and his disciples left the table and went into the night toward Gethsemane. Jesus doesn’t just give us something to think about—he gives us something to do. It’s living the serenity of the Spirit, no matter the consequence that the world hands out. When we live empowered by the Spirit—our Counselor, Teacher, and Peace—darkness has no power.











