



Seeking the Peace of Christ

Christianity and Peacemaking

by Rev. Dr. Mark D. Roberts





Copyright © 2010 by Mark D. Roberts





Note: You may download this resource at no cost, for personal use or for use in a Christian ministry, as long as you are not publishing it for sale. All I ask is that you acknowledge the source of this material: http://www.patheos.com/blogs/markdroberts/. For all other uses, please contact me at mark@markdroberts.com. Thank you.









Seeking the Peace of Christ: Introduction

This is the first part of a series I’m calling: Seeking the Peace of Christ: Christianity and Peacemaking.

Peace is essential to Christianity. There can be no doubt about it. Consider, for example, these passages from the New Testament Gospels

Then there are these verses from the writings of the Apostle Paul:

Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (Phil 4:6-7).

Of course then there’s the classic statement of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount:

So peace is essential to Christianity, and Christians must surely seek to be peacemakers. Right?

Unfortunately, it’s not that simple . . . or, at least, we Christians have complicated what was meant to be simple. When it comes to the matter of Christianity, peace, and peacemaking, we encounter several perplexing problems. Three stand out in particular.

First, theologically conservative American Christians (like me) have tended to think of Christ’s peace mainly if not exclusively in terms of personal peace with God and the inner peace that follows from this divine relationship. Now let me say at the outset of this series on Seeking the Peace of Christ that I passionately believe that you and I can have personal peace with God through Christ. I also believe that one result of this peace is deep, inner tranquility and a sense of well-being, the of God “which surpasses all understanding” (Phil 4:7). I would never deny the wonder of these dimensions of peace, and will not do so in this series. But I would contend that the peace of God, as revealed in Scripture, includes much more than we evangelicals sometimes think. It’s not that we are wrong in what we believe about God’s peace, but that we believe far too little.

The second problem with peace is that we who speak English tend to think of peace in negative terms, as the absence of war or other kinds of conflict. When two sides in a war come together and sign a treaty, then peace has been achieved. Or when a husband and wife finishing fighting, we might say that have worked out peace in their relationship. But this sense of peace falls short of the biblical vision. As you’ll see in this series, the Bible speaks of peace as something far broader and grander than merely the absence of conflict.

The third problem when it comes to Christianity and peace is that the language of peacemaking is often used among more theologically and/or politically liberal Christians to describe a certain kind of political stance in the world. Peacemaking is often aligned with full on pacifism, or, at least, with a strongly pacifistic anti-military stance. In my experience in a mainline denomination, so-called peacemaking often goes hand in hand with vigorous, partisan criticism of the United States. Now I’m not suggesting that this political perspective is necessarily right or wrong. But it does confuse matters if we want to understand the biblical notions of peace and peacemaking. The way many Christians use this language may keep those who use it from missing the biblical sense(s) of peace. Moreover, evangelical Christians can associate peacemaking with liberal theology, while politically conservative Christians can assume that one who talks about peacemaking embraces a liberal political agenda. Bible-believing Christians can almost forget that Jesus was the one who blessed the peacemakers, and therefore we had better figure out what this means so we can join them.

As we begin this series on Seeking the Peace of Christ, my goal is uncomplicated. I want to grapple with the biblical understanding of peace, so that we might experience the fullness of God’s peace in Christ and be agents of peace – yes, peacemakers – in the world. Tomorrow I’ll begin to lay out the biblical vision of peace by starting at the beginning.

Paradise: A Vision of Peace

I have seen Paradise . . . well, sort of. Let me explain.

A few years ago my wife and I were camping in Kings Canyon National Park, a deep valley in the Sierra Nevada mountains of California. On the first morning of our stay, we packed a lunch and headed off along a trial that ran beside the South Fork of the Kings River. As we meandered through the pine and cedar forest, the trail gradually climbed up the narrowing canyon. After about four miles of uphill hiking we came to upon the dazzling cascades of Mist Falls. Suitably named, the falls cooled us with the mist that showered our trail. Clambering up the trail that had become quite steep, we finally arrived at the top of the falls.

Before us lay an exquisite sight. The valley above the falls became wider and flatter. The river that rushed through the gorge below was now placid as it flowed gently between verdant forests and blooming meadows. The granite walls of the glacier-carved valley shone in the bright Sierra sunlight. Locating a perfect spot for our picnic lunch, Linda and I drank in the tranquility of our heavenly realm. No wonder it was called “Paradise Valley.” And, no wonder that peace should pervade a place called “paradise.”



Paradise and peace: these two ideas are inseparable. I can’t imagine being in paradise that was anything other than peaceful. Moreover, when I think of experiencing real peace, that sounds like paradise to me. I know lots of people who would readily agree: the mom with young children who cherishes those rare moments when her kids are asleep and the house is quiet; the harried manager who takes an extra minute in the stillness of his car just to calm his soul after work; the high school student whose jammed schedule allows no time for sleep. Then there are folks who find themselves in heartbreaking conflicts with family or friends. Others experience a war on the inside as old fears and wounds haunt them every day. Many in our world today confront life-threatening violence in their communities. Peace in relationships, in our hearts, in daily life – now that would be paradise indeed.

Most of us are familiar with the Old Testament word for “peace.” It is shalom. For Hebrew speakers, shalom has a much richer and fuller significance than the English word “peace.” Whereas we sometimes limit the idea of peace to the absence of conflict, shalom includes far more. It comprises notions of wholeness, completeness, soundness, and prosperity. The Psalmist sings, “Those who are gentle and lowly will possess the land; they will live in abundant peace” (Ps 37:11, literal translation). God’s promise of blessing to Israel through Isaiah uses similar language: “I will make your towers of sparkling rubies and your gates and walls of shining gems. I will teach all your citizens, and their peace will be great” (Isa 54:12-13, literal translation).

In the Old Testament, peace is also inseparable from righteousness and justice. These latter concepts are embodied in one Hebrew word that connotes right-relationship between two or more parties. This word is usually translated as “righteousness,” referring not only to doing morally correct deeds, but also to living rightly in relationship with others. Righteousness is also closely connected to justice, because the righteous person acts with justice in the civil or judicial sphere. The necessary link between righteousness and peace can be seen, for example, in Isaiah’s vision of a future day when a righteous king will reign over Israel and God’s Spirit will be poured out upon the people:

Then the wilderness will become a fertile field, and the fertile field will become a lush and fertile forest. Justice will rule in the wilderness and righteousness in the fertile field. And this righteousness will bring peace. Quietness and confidence will fill the land forever (Isa 32:15-17, NLT).

With a similar picture in mind, the Psalmist looks forward to a time with God’s salvation pervades the nation. It that day one will proclaim, “Unfailing love and truth have met together. Righteousness and peace have kissed!” (Psa 85:10).

In biblical perspective, therefore, the absence of conflict is only the bare beginning of peace. True peace includes personal wholeness, corporate righteousness, political justice, and prosperity for all creation. That’s exactly the way God intended things to be when he created his garden, his paradise. (Our word “paradise” comes from a Greek word that described the elegant parks of ancient Persian kings.) Perhaps no term better describes God’s perfect paradise than “peaceful,” a world full of wholeness, righteousness, justice, and prosperity.

The creation accounts in Genesis reveal the peaceful dimensions of God’s masterpiece. Not only do we find no evidence of conflict in the first chapter of Genesis, but also we sense that all relationships are sound as creation works together to fulfill God’s purposes. That same picture is confirmed and clarified in Genesis 2. There creation is pictured as a garden both beautiful to the eyes and filled with delicious food (Gen 2:8-9). Adam will work in the garden and it will produce abundant fruit with minimal toil. The right-relationship between God and Adam is seen in God’s generous provision for Adam, in God’s ongoing care for him, and in his complete obedience to God’s command (Gen 2:18-25). When the Lord creates a female companion for the man, the relationship between the two people is also full of peace. They share intimate fellowship with each other, naked in body and soul, completely without shame (Gen 2:25). In their lack of shame we also sense the peace that fills their own souls.

The Old Testament conception of peace is closely related to the New Testament notion of fellowship. In my book, After “I Believe,” I showed that the New Testament Greek word for fellowship, koinonia, might better be translated as “intimate fellowship.” When we have peace with God, we live in intimate fellowship with him. Similarly, peaceful (peace-full) human relationships are also characterized by koinonia. What could be more intimate than the fellowship shared by the man and the woman in Genesis 2? Peace, intimate fellowship, righteousness, justice, these interrelated qualities characterize God’s perfect paradise. They reveal God’s intentions for how we are to live. In a nutshell, we’re to live in peace.

Paradise Lost and Peace Destroyed

I my last post I showed that peace, in biblical perspective, is closely related to the idea of paradise. God created the world as a place of peace: justice, harmony, fellowship. Through the end of Genesis 2, peace prevailed in God’s good creation.

Unfortunately, however, the story doesn’t end in Genesis 2. Even as my wife and I had to leave Paradise Valley eventually (see my last post), the first humans couldn’t remain in God’s perfect creation. Linda and I left voluntarily, however. Adam and Even were kicked out of their paradise. And, whereas Linda and I left our valley in its pristine state, Adam and Eve ruined everything, not only for themselves, but for the rest of us as well. In fact, they disrupted the peacefulness of God’s entire creation.

How did this terrible thing happen? When he was created, Adam was told by the Lord that he could enjoy the fruit of all the trees in paradise, save one. The fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil he was to avoid completely (Gen 2:16-17). When the serpent enticed the woman to eat some of the forbidden fruit, she disobeyed God’s command and was joined by her husband in an illicit feast (Gen 3:6). All of sudden, peacefulness was shattered.

Immediately after they disobeyed God’s command, Adam and Even felt shame about being naked. They felt the need to hide from one another and from themselves. They no longer had peace between each other or even in their own souls (Gen 3:7). When God came to enjoy fellowship with them, they tried to hide from God as well (Gen 3:8). Sin had also destroyed human peace with God.



Once God found the cowering couple, he explained the dire results of their actions. The intimate partnership God had designed for man and woman would be replaced with oppressive domination. The woman would fulfill God’s command to bear children, but only with intense pain (Gen 3:16). The man would also continue to till a garden, but now he would fight against thorns and thistles as creation itself turns against him. Whereas God intended humans to live forever in his peace, now they would die, both physically and spiritually (Gen 3:19). Finally, as the ultimate demonstration of what sin has destroyed, God banished Adam and Even from paradise. They could no longer enjoy the perfect, peaceful creation God had intended for them.

The story of Adam and Even grips our hearts because it is not simply an ancient account of two people and their tragic mistake. It is our story as well. It is our personal tragedy. We share in this story both because Adam and Eve are our spiritual ancestors and because we mirror their behavior in our own lives. Like the first humans, we have rebelled against God. Thus we live outside of God’s paradise. We yearn for the peace for which we were created, but never experience that peace, except in bits and pieces. Though we were meant to live in peace with God, our neighbors, our world, and even ourselves, we experience brokenness in all of these relationships.

One of the things I find most attractive about Christianity is its realistic appraisal of human life. Some religious traditions minimize or even deny the reality of sin and its results. Suffering and evil are considered to be illusory. The Bible shows us, on the contrary, that these sorry states are all too real. God doesn’t try to sweep them under the rug of religious pretense, and neither should we. Thus when terrible things happen in our world, when terrorists murder innocent people, when tsunamis or hurricanes wipe out whole cities, when rich CEO’s steal from their hapless shareholders, Christians should not be surprised. Sad, yes; horrified, indeed; but not surprised.

Yet, at the same time, we must not fall pretty to cynicism or fatalism. Though we face the pain of this world head on, we don’t surrender to it. Unlike some philosophies and religions, we do not believe that suffering is essence of material existence. Beneath, the reality of suffering there is the goodness of God’s creation. That the bottom, there is God’s peace. As Christians, we live fully in this world, facing its brokenness head on, but not trapped forever within it. Though peace was truly destroyed in the fall of humankind, the Creator of peace remains. And he has a plan to reestablish peace throughout his creation. I’ll have more to say about this in my next post.

The Peacemaking Mission of Jesus

So far in this series I’ve shown that God created this world with the intention that it be full of peace. But human sin twisted God’s creation, so that brokenness now pervades that which God had intended to be so peaceful. Yet God has not given up on his creation, nor on his creatures.

In the Old Testament God promised to mend that which had been lost in the Fall by reinstituting peace on earth. Through Ezekiel, the Lord looked forward to such restoration for his people:

And I will make a covenant of peace with them, an everlasting covenant. I will give them their land and multiply them, and I will put my Temple among them forever. I will make my home among them. I will be their God, and they will be my people (Ezek 37:26-27).

Peace will come by God’s effort. The result will be material blessing and, most importantly, a mended relationship between people and God. The prophet Isaiah brought a message similar to that of Ezekiel:

How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the messenger who announces peace, who brings good news, who announces salvation, who says to Zion, “Your God reigns” (Isa 52:7).

Notice how God’s peace is integrally related to his salvation, to the restoration of his reign on earth. When God saves, he will restore his kingdom so that those who live under his rightful rule will experience the fullness of his peace.

Isaiah’s vision of God’s future peacemaking effort takes an unexpected turn in the next chapter. There the prophet describes God’s Suffering Servant, “a man of sorrows, acquainted with bitterest grief” (Isa 53:3). This Servant suffers, not because of his own sins, but so that we might be forgiven for our sins. “But he was wounded and crushed for our sins. He was beaten that we might have peace. He was whipped, and we were healed!” (Isa 53:5). God would restore peace on earth, but only through one who took upon himself the penalty for human sin.

Jesus entered the world as the one who would fulfill the mission of the Suffering Servant, thus bringing divine peace. Even before Jesus was born, one of his relatives proclaimed what God was about to do:

By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace (Luke 1:78-79)

Upon the occasion of Jesus’s birth, angels filled the sky with praise to God. What did they sing? “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and peace on earth to all whom God favors” (Luke 2:14).

Peace on earth sounds just great, doesn’t it? It also sounds like something you might read on a tacky poster in college dorm, or like something cooked up by a politician to win a few extra votes in the next election. Or it sounds very much like something a British Prime Minister once said, to his ultimate shame.

In March 1938, Germany absorbed Austria under the leadership of Adolf Hitler. Then, turning his eyes to Czechoslovakia, Hitler and his generals drew up a plan to take over that sovereign nation as well. As war between Germany and Czechoslovakia seemed imminent, the Czechs looked to their allies, France and Great Britain, for help. But the French and the British were eager to avoid a war with Hitler’s military machine.

In September 1938, the British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain, in partnership with French leaders, began negotiations with Hitler. Things appeared hopeless, however, because Hitler insisted on Germany’s right to annex a substantial portion of Czechoslovakia. Yet Prime Minister Chamberlain was so eager to avoid war that he caved in to Hitler’s demands. Hitler did promise, however, to resolve all future differences through consultation rather than military action. A trustworthy promise to be sure!



In October 1938, Neville Chamberlain returned to jubilant crowds throughout Britain, announcing that he had achieved “peace with honour. I believe it is peace in our time.” Of course we know the rest of the story. Within months, Hitler had annexed the rest of Czechoslovakia and would soon invade Poland. “Peace in our time” was no peace at all because it failed to remedy the root cause of the strife: Hitler’s plan to dominate Europe.

Similarly, the biblical slogan “Peace on earth” doesn’t mean much unless God deals with the basic human problem of sin. Peace doesn’t come along just because baby Jesus was born in a manger. It isn’t a by-product of Christmas cheer or other happy thoughts. Jesus’ birth was only a prerequisite to his final peacemaking effort, something we celebrate during Holy Week, not during Christmas. As a human being, the Word of God made flesh, Jesus represented us on the cross. He bore our sin as had been prophesied for the Suffering Servant in Isaiah 53. His death dealt a fatal blow to sin, the root cause of human brokenness and separation from God. Because Jesus was crucified, we can have peace in all of its fullness (Isa 53:5). Paul triumphantly celebrates Jesus’ peacemaking work in the opening of his letter to the Colossians:

For God in all his fullness was pleased to live in Christ, and by him God reconciled everything to himself. He made peace with everything in heaven and on earth by means of his blood on the cross (Col 1:19-20).

The peace God intended for creation – once lost because of sin, often promised by the prophets – God reestablished through Jesus by “his blood on the cross.” For this reason Paul can say simply of Christ: “he himself is our peace” (Eph 2:14; NIV).

But what are the dimensions and implications of the peace Jesus has wrought on the cross? What kinds of peace can we expect to experience through believing in Jesus? I address these questions in future posts in this series. peace.

Peace with God Through Christ

So far in this series I’ve shown how God intended his creation to be full of peace. This intention was broken but not destroyed when the first human sinned against God. Yet God had a plan to restore his shalom on earth, a plan focused on the life, death, and resurrection of his Son, the one who fulfilled the role of the Suffering Servant of Isaiah.

How do we experience God’s peace? It all begins when we enter into relationship with God through Jesus Christ. As we put our trust in him, Jesus not only promises us eternal life in the future, but also he invites us to begin to experience that life right now, however incompletely.

When we receive the benefits of Christ’s sacrifice through faith, we can have peace with God: “Therefore, since we have been made right in God’s sight by faith, we have peace with God because of what Jesus Christ our Lord has done for us” (Rom 5:1). Where once we were God’s enemies because of sin, now because of Christ we have been reconciled to God (Rom 5:10-11). The strife between us and the Lord has been overcome by his grace.

I realize that this way of thinking about people and God will seem strange to most of us. Even many Christians tend to think of those who are not Christian as being basically good, as being in touch with God to some extent. We think of non-Christian people more as seekers than as God’s enemies in need of peace with God. And, indeed, those who don’t know the Lord may be seekers. But they are also, in a profound sense, both separated from God and opposed to God. Yet God has extended an offer of peace through Jesus Christ. Faith means receiving this offer, putting down our opposition to God, and entering into a peaceful relationship with Him.

Peace with God begins when we experience reconciliation through Christ, but it doesn’t end there. When Paul, a faithful Jew, speaks of “peace with God,” he thinks of the Old Testament concept of shalom. Peace with God includes intimacy, blessing, and the unimpeded flow of divine love. It encompasses everything God had intended for his relationship with us. When we have peace with God, we begin already to live in the restored creation, even while we yearn for that restoration to be completed. Once our peaceful relationship with God is renewed, the other dimensions of peace will follow, including peace with ourselves and peace with others. I’ll explore these dimensions in future posts. peace.

Inner Peace Beyond Understanding

Jesus promised to give his followers supernatural peace:

I’m leaving you with a gift — peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give isn’t like the peace the world gives. So don’t be troubled or afraid (John 14:27).

After Jesus ascended to heaven, he gives this peace through the mediation of the Holy Spirit. Peace is one aspect of that which the Spirit produces in our lives (Gal 5:22).

The inner peace given by God isn’t like the peace provided by the world, according to Jesus (John 14:27). It isn’t peace that depends upon outward circumstances or inward rationalizations. Indeed, God’s peace often comes when events or reasons would provide just cause for worry. As Paul notes, God’s peace “is far more wonderful than the human mind can understand” (Phil 4:7).

If you’ve never experienced this kind of peace, all of this talk can sound rather dreamy and unrealisitic. But millions upon millions of Christians have known supernatural, inexplicable peace precisely in situations that would seem to demand fear and distress. The great hymn writer Charles Wesley, who wrote such beloved songs as “Hark! The herald Angels Sing,” lived a full life of service to Christ. Early in his 79th year, however, his health began to falter. As sickness dominated his body, Wesley knew that he would soon die. His doctor, who regularly visited his bedside during the last days, described Wesley’s attitude in the face of death:

He possessed that state of mind which he had been always pleased to see in others — unaffected humility, and holy resignation to the will of God. He had no transports of joy, but solid hope and unshaken confidence in Christ, which kept his mind in perfect peace.

Lest you think that only the unique heroes of Christian history have such peace when death approaches, I have sat with many ordinary saints in the hours before their passing. These also known the perfect peace that once filled the heart of Charles Wesley.

Obviously, I have not yet confronted the imminence of my death. I’m hoping to delay this experience for a quite few more years. But I have known the peace of God that is “far more wonderful than the human mind can understand.” Such peace first came to me when I was in junior high. My father worked as a computer analyst in the aerospace business in Southern California. After Americans finally landed on the moon, zeal for space exploration waned and federal funding dried up. My dad lost his job and remained out of work for many months. The expenses associated with supporting a family of six continued, however. Before too long my family’s financial situation was very bleak. I was panicked, afraid that we would lose our home and be forced to move away from our friends and family. I felt afraid as I had never felt before. My world seemed to be crumbling before my very eyes.

I vividly remember lying awake one night, envisioning the worst case scenario for my family. I just couldn’t escape from the grip of fear. In desperation I cried out to God for help. “Please take care of us,” I pleaded, “help Dad to get a job. Don’t make us move. Help us!” In that moment I sensed God’s lavish, comforting presence as I had never known it before. Though I didn’t receive any reassurance about my family’s financial situation, I felt utterly, uniquely, supernaturally peaceful. My worries evaporated in the warmth of God’s love for me. Without knowing what lay ahead for my family, I knew beyond any doubt that God would take care of us.

In that watershed moment of my life I experienced for the first time the gift of incomprehensible peace, that which I couldn’t understand and which really made no sense at all. I also learned that such peace comes, not by human effort, but by God’s grace as we turn our hearts to him. The prophet Isaiah understood this truth when he said to the Lord, “You will keep in perfect peace all who trust in you, whose thoughts are fixed on you!” (Isa 26:3). Paul reiterated this same thought, making more explicit the connection between fixing our thoughts on God and prayer:

Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. If you do this, you will experience God’s peace, which is far more wonderful than the human mind can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus (Phil 4:6-7).

What a marvelous promise! What an astounding reality!

Frances Havergal lived in the mid-19th century. A faithful and talented Christian, she wrote many beloved hymns, including “Take My Life, and Let It Be Consecrated.” her relatively short life was filled with difficult challenges. When she was eleven, her mother died. Shortly thereafter her father remarried. Frances’s stepmother came between her and her father, causing deep hurt to the girl. As a young adult, Frances became chronically ill. Even to get up from her bed was painful. Yet she continued to live actively, especially in her song writing ministry. During one of her periods of illness, she composed these words:

Like a river glorious, Is God’s perfect peace, Over all victorious, In its bright increase; Perfect, yet it floweth, Fuller ev’ry day; Perfect, yet it groweth, Deeper all the way.Stayed upon Jehovah, hearts are fully blessed; Finding, as he promised, Perfect peace and rest.

Perfect peace in the midst of severe physical pain, that’s beyond our comprehension. It’s a gift from God.

Peace Among People, Part 1

Peace with God and peace within our souls do not exhaust the potentialities of peace through Christ. Scripture connects inner peace specifically to peace among people: “Let the peace that comes from Christ rule in your hearts. For as members of one body you are all called to live in peace” (Col 3:15). If divine peace reigns within us, it should touch the rest our lives, especially our most important relationships in family, among friends, and in church. But the peace Christ impacts an even broader set of human relationships than these.

Paul’s letter to the Ephesians lays the spiritual foundation for peace among people. After first showing that the death of Christ leads to our personal salvation (Eph 2:4-10), Ephesians 2 goes on to explore the corporate implications of the cross, focusing on the fundamental division between Jews and Gentiles.

For Christ himself has made peace between us Jews and you Gentiles by making us all one people. He has broken down the wall of hostility that used to separate us. By his death he ended the whole system of Jewish law that excluded the Gentiles. His purpose was to make peace between Jews and Gentiles by creating in himself one new person from the two groups. Together as one body, Christ reconciled both groups to God by means of his death, and our hostility toward each other was put to death (Eph 2:14-16).

The death of Jesus not only brings reconciliation between individuals and God, but also creates reconciliation among people by exploding the hostility that keeps us from living peacefully together. It’s crucial that we pay attention to what Paul is teaching here because sometimes we get so excited about the personal relevance of the cross that we neglect its corporate implications. We end up proclaiming the possibility of peace with God and peace within ourselves without mentioning peace among people.

But God’s plan for you includes more than reconciliation with him, however essential and foundational this reconciliation is. On the basis of peace with God, you can have peace with others as well, an essential dimension of God’s perfect peace. Notice, too, that peace among people is not limited to a few close relationships. It transforms the relationship between Jews and Gentiles. It impacts races, ethnicities, and even nations. The Old Testament foresaw that the righteous king who comes humbly, “riding on a donkey . . . will bring peace to the nations” (Zech 9:9-10). When Jesus entered Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, he came to die so that God’s peace would pervade all peoples and nations.

I didn’t always think of God’s peace in this way. I grew up focusing on Christ’s provision of peace with God, within my own soul, and with my closest companions. Biblical passages that spoke of the social and political dimensions of divine peace could be reinterpreted to fit my preconceived notions of peace. I could easily ignore the texts that connect peace with righteousness and justice, or else relegate them to the future when Christ returns.

But when I was in graduate school, my best friend was a Mennonite pastor who conceived of God’s peace much more fully. While not denying the central importance of peace with God or the blessings of inner peace, Tom spoke passionately of the broad dimensions of biblical peace. He helped me take seriously passages from Scripture that I had ignored or misinterpreted, especially the latter half of Ephesians 2, which shows how Christ’s death makes peace between hostile peoples. He also showed me the rich meanings of the Hebrew term shalom, a word that I had understood to refer primarily to the absence of conflict. Through Tom, I realized that I had truncated biblical peace to fit my own values, needs, and preconceptions. By his influence, I came to embrace the richer and truer sense of biblical peace, recognizing its interconnectedness with righteousness, justice, and wholeness in all of life. (Photo: Tom Yoder Neufeld’s watershed interpretation of Ephesians can be found in his commentary on this New Testament book, which I highly recommend.)

Peace Among People, Part 2

In my last post I began to lay out some of the broader implications of Jesus’ life and death. He came to bring peace, not only between God and people, but also among people. Jesus Christ died on the cross and rose from the grave to restore peace to a broken world. Wherever there is conflict, whether inside individual hearts, or within families, or among brothers and sisters in church, or between different ethnic groups, or even between warring nations, Christ “wages peace” as his disciples wield the paradoxical power of the cross. This power is paradoxical because victory comes through the embodied proclamation of Christ’s own powerlessness.

It would be a great error to think of the social dimensions of peace as simply whitewashing social evil in a grand attempt to “make nice.” It’s all too easy for us to confuse peacemaking with “nice-making.” This was also true in Jesus’ own day. Some Jews believed that, if he were the Messiah, Jesus would usher in a season of painless prosperity. To these mistaken folk Jesus said,

Do you think that I have come to bring peace on earth? No, I have come to bring strife and division! From now on families will be split apart, three in favor of me, and two against – or the other way around. There will be a division between father and son, mother and daughter, mother-in-law and daughter-in-law (Luke 12:52-53).

Does this passage contradict everything else we have read about the peacemaking work of Christ? No, because it must be interpreted in its unique context. Jesus is speaking in Luke 12 to those who expected a superficial peace, a peace that was really no peace at all because it failed to deal with the true cause of human brokenness. Many of the Jews in the first-century equated peace with the expulsion of the Romans. “Get rid of foreign rule and we’ll have peace,” they thought. But Jesus came to bring an unanticipated kind of peace. His peace would address the root cause of human suffering. His peace would be offered to people who were not Jews, even to the hated Romans.

As Jesus pursued his peculiar peacemaking mission, he engendered plenty of strife. His failure to fulfill Jewish expectations led to his being rejected by his own people, while his insistence on the presence of God’s reign brought about his crucifixion at Roman hands. It would have been so much easier for Jesus if he had simply joined the Zealots, who fomented violence against Rome, or the Sadducees, who tolerated partnership with the Romans, or the Pharisees, who by the time of Jesus focused on personal piety instead of social reformation. But Jesus was unwilling to settle for a peace that was no peace. He resolutely pursued the all-encompassing peace that comes only when sin is abolished and God’s rule is reestablished on the earth.

Jesus’ statement about strife and division should warn us not to equate the absence of conflict with true peace. There are families, for example, which appear to be peaceful only because the head of the household is a tyrant who uses emotional and sometimes physical violence to institute order. Churches sometimes pride themselves on avoiding conflict, but they do so only because the pastor has learned to silence open discussion through his authoritarian leadership. And there are nations that are not at war, but in which wholistic peace cannot be found.

When we look for peace, we must keep before us the concept we find throughout Scripture. True peace will always include right-relationships, just treatment of all persons, wholeness in all dimensions of life, and divine blessing to boot. Sometimes the path to true peace must pass through strife and division before it arrives at its destination.

What does all of this mean for you personally? It means that, no matter how much you enjoy peace with God and within your own heart, you must also pursue the corporate aspects of shalom. In a nutshell, you must be a peacemaker. I’ll turn to this in my next post.

Being Peacemakers in Church, Part 1

Jesus said it bluntly: “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God” (Matt 5:9). Time and again the rest of the New Testament echoes his high regard for peacemaking:

Let us therefore make every effort to do what leads to peace and to mutual edification (Rom 14:19; NIV). Bind yourselves together with peace (Eph 4:3). Try to live in peace with everyone (Heb 12:14).

Each of these passages sets peacemaking within the context of Christian community. We seek to live in peace as part of our fellowship together.

Martin Luther was correct. The Church of Jesus Christ is indeed a mighty fortress, against which the gates of Hell cannot prevail. But individual Christian communities are sometimes quite fragile. Frequently, they shatter because members seek their own good, rather than the benefit of the community as a whole. The sow seeds of division by their selfishness. But, you and I are called to be peacemakers within our churches, to preserve the unity and seek the wholeness of Christian community. Paul’s instruction quoted above, “bind yourselves together with peace,” falls within a broader exhortation to church unity:

Be humble and gentle. Be patient with each other, making allowance for each other’s faults because of your love. Always keep yourselves united in the Holy Spirit, and bind yourselves together with peace. We are all one body, we have the same Spirit, and we have all been called to the same glorious future (Eph 4:2-4).

We are to make peace among our brothers and sisters in Christ because we are one body together, united by the one Spirit.

How can you be a peacemaker in your church? Note carefully Paul’s wise counsel. First, “be humble and gentle” (Eph 4:2). Don’t think too highly of yourself, but consider others better than yourself (Phil 2:3). If you have a complaint or criticism, communicate it with humility, realizing that you could be wrong. And in all interactions, treat people with gentleness, remembering that they are precious to God.

Second, you can make peace within your fellowship by being “patient with each other, making allowance for each other’s faults because of your love” (Eph 4:2). This call to patience implies that those around you will frustrate you with their slowness. They won’t repent quickly enough. They won’t serve actively enough. They will pray too long or not pray enough. Yet you must put up with their faults and weaknesses, even as they must put up with yours, thank God! It is certainly right to confront a brother or sister who sins. But patience is necessarily for all the little things others do that aren’t sinful, but just bothersome.

When I read verse 2 with its call to humility, gentleness, and patience, I immediately think of one of the founding members of Irvine Presbyterian Church, a man named Jack. Jack was on the search committee that called me as pastor, as he had been on the first committee that called Ben Patterson, the founding pastor of the church. Jack had retired after a successful business career. He was the most respected and beloved man among church members – a well-deserved honor. When I arrived at the church, I quickly noted that Jack also had a room named after him, the only room in the church named after any person, living or dead. It was apparent to me that Jack had great power within Irvine Presbyterian Church.

Jack could have used his power to dominate me, but he never chose to do so. Instead, he always used his power in a Christ-like manner. He was a strong, outspoken supporter of my ministry.

As is natural, however, at times he believed that my leadership was lacking or misdirected. Jack would make an appointment to see me. After affirming my ministry and reassuring me of God’s call to be pastor of the church, he would tell me what was bugging him. Every single time he did this with humility, gentleness, and patience. Jack could have wielded his power to coerce my agreement. But he never even tried to do it. He could have wounded my spirit by pointing to his superior wisdom. He never did that. He could have said that he was sick and tired of trying to help young pastors grow up. But he never said anything like that. When Jack and I finished our meetings, I always felt encouraged. In Jack’s woodshed there weren’t any switches, just abundant peace and lots of wisdom.

In my next post I want to say a little more about being a peacemaker in church.

Being Peacemakers in Church, Part 2

If you are going to make peace within your church, you must “make every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit” (Eph 4:3). Church unity is not something you can take for granted, but it is something to be sought with vigorous effort. Where you see the beginning of division, snuff it out. If two church members are stuck in disagreement, help them to understand each other. If something about the church begins to get on your nerves – and, believe me, something will! – don’t complain behind the leaders’ backs or threaten to leave the church. Rather, talk directly and humbly with those who are responsible. Don’t ever brandish the “I might leave” threat unless you’re facing a major issue of intractable heresy or unrepentance. (I once heard a faithful church member threaten to leave if the high school minister didn’t start sending out flyers on time. No kidding!)

In his letter to the Colossians Paul mentions one other activity that is essential to peacemaking within the church:

You must make allowance for each other’s faults and forgive the person who offends you. Remember, the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others. And the most important piece of clothing you must wear is love. Love is what binds us all together in perfect harmony. And let the peace that comes from Christ rule in your hearts. For as members of one body you are all called to live in peace. (Col 3:13-15)

Peacemaking requires forgiveness. Over and over again, our Christian siblings will hurt us. That’s too bad, but that’s the way it is. If we hold onto the offense and the pain, if we formulate plans to get even, if we fail to forgive or pretend to forgive without actually doing so, then we will contribute to the demise of our Christian community just as much or more than the one who wronged us. When we do forgive, however, our relationships with be renewed and the body of Christ will strengthened.

I remember a time when an elder named Tim helped the leaders of Irvine Presbyterian Church resolve a contentious discussion about worship. While he served on our elder board, Tim was an exemplary leader. He also drove me crazy at times, and I generously returned the favor. Both Tim and I are fairly active thinkers and robust communicators. We tend to like our own opinions a lot and to defend them vigorously. (Tim, in fact, is an attorney who once argued a case before the U.S. Supreme Court.) When Tim and I disagreed about something, the conversation could get hot. Both of us would sometimes end up saying things to each other that were more than a little inappropriate. No cussing or fist fights, just barbs that poked too hard or insinuations that punched below the emotional belt.

But Tim and I never let those offenses lie. On any number of occasions we’d be on the phone the next day, asking for and granting forgiveness. As a result, the leadership of our church was stronger. Our relationship, far from being injured, grew into deeper fellowship. Today, Tim is one of my dearest friends, even though we live half a country apart. My experience with Tim illustrates that genuine forgiveness not only preserves peace, but also makes it better.

In my next post I want to discuss one of the most important contexts for peacemaking: the family.

Peacemaking in Families

In my last post in this series, I spoke of the centrality of forgiveness in peacemaking. While I’m speaking of forgiveness, I want to say a word about peacemaking in families. Everything I have said about peacemaking in church applies equally to family life. Humility, gentleness, patience, unity, and forgiveness belong at home. Unfortunately, home is often the toughest place to live out these virtues. When I come home from work, after a day of exercising humility, gentleness, patience, and forgiveness in my work life, I’m worn out. My children might get the last bit of peacemaking I can muster, though sometimes they don’t even get the dregs. My wife, Linda, however, can get pride, insensitivity, impatience, and unforgiveness. If she’s had a bad day too, you can imagine how much peace will bless our marriage that night.

As I grow in Christ, I’m learning to live my faith at home first and foremost, not last and least. But because I’m so human, as are my other family members, forgiveness pervades our household. Without forgiveness, we’d soon build up walls of hostility that would damage our fellowship and reflect poorly on the Lord. That’s the state of many families today, including many Christian families. Husbands and wives have substituted nice-making for genuine peacemaking, thus storing up bitterness against one another. The same is often true of other family relationships. Only forgiveness, forgiveness modeled after God’s own forgiveness and inspired by God’s own Sprit, will bring wholeness – shalom – to our families.

Sometimes, forgiveness is lacking because one who has wronged another is unwilling to admit the offense and ask for forgiveness. Now we can forgive even if someone will not own up to having wronged us. But it is much easier, emotionally, to forgive one who says, “Yes, I was wrong. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

Parents can be especially resistant to admitting to their children when they make mistakes. I remember a time, years ago, when I was confronted with the question of whether or not to apologize to my son, Nathan. He had done something wrong, so I responded with a stern lecture and taking away some of his privileges. Yet, even as I finished with Nathan, I realized that I had been harsh and unfair. It occurred to me that I should apologize. But the thought of humbling myself before my young son and asking for forgiveness made me most uncomfortable. It would have been so much easier just to move on in the hope that we could forget the whole incident. Yet, as I thought and prayed about what to do, it seemed right to humble myself enough to apologize to Nathan and admit my error. How else would he learn how to admit his own mistakes? How else would he learn how to forgive?



So I sat down with him, explained that I had been unfair, and asked for his forgiveness. I felt embarrassed and awkward. Nathan responded by saying, “Sure, Dad” and gave me a hug. I felt so much better! More importantly, I was beginning to teach Nathan how to be a person who admits his mistakes and who forgives others. I was being a peacemaker in my own family.

Throughout my years as a pastor, I have witnessed deeply moving examples of forgiveness in families. I’ve seen children forgive a father for his years of alcoholic abuse. I’ve seen husbands forgive wives who have been unfaithful in their marriage. And I’ve seen wives do the same. God’s grace enables us to forgive, genuinely and fully, what we could never do on our own.

But forgiveness is not pretending that everything is okay. If a husband is physically abusing his wife, for example, she does, in time, need to forgive him. But this doesn’t mean she should simply stick around and take the abuse. Forgiveness doesn’t turn us into human doormats, and it doesn’t take away the need for wrongdoers to confess and repent.

A Christian leader I know has a terrible temper. He has said and done things in anger that are clearly sinful. Yet, to my knowledge, he’s never truly confessed his sin to those he has wronged and asked them to forgive him. He seems to assume that his fellow Christians owe him forgiveness, which is true, of course. But it’s only half of the equation. The other half includes his willingness to admit his mistakes and seek forgiveness, not to mention to be held accountable for his behavior.

Peacemaking is not just something that happens “out there.” It begins in our closest relationships, in our homes and marriages, in our families and friendships.