"The Paradox of Peace"

Why does personal and inner peace seem so elusive? Perhaps, we’re looking for it in the wrong places. For example, if we turn to the world for peace, we’re likely to find that this peace is too easy, too pat, too transitory. It’s the peace of the graveyard. It’s a peace that flourishes when the sun is shining and shudders when the storms come crashing through our reality. So, to whom can we turn?

            Today’s reading from the Gospel is full of tantalizing themes that are worthy of reflection and sermonizing. It begins with some words from the mouth of Jesus about love, explaining that wherever there is love, there are loving actions that reflect that love.

            Jesus goes on to briefly mention the Holy Spirit whose role is to “teach you everything and remind you of all that I have said to you.”

            But today’s sermon takes as its focus verse 27: “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.” This one verse is so powerful that it raises three important questions: What is this peace that Jesus offers? How does it differ from the peace that the world offers? How can I experience this peace?

The paradoxical peace of Christ

            If we’re honest, this is a tough issue. The problem is that, like too many contractors, repair specialists and most television advertisers, Jesus seems to overpromise and underdeliver.

            When Jesus speaks these words, he knows he is close to death. He is talking to his closest confidants and understandably wants to soften the blow, knowing that they, too, would soon face trials and uncertainties. This is a big problem. Tradition tells us that most of the apostles suffered violent deaths. What peace comforted them then? What peace comforts us when a child dies or our company is downsized and we are suddenly without a job?

            Yet Jesus promises us peace? What is he talking about?

            Thousands of Christians around the world suffer because of their faith.

            Even in the United States, it is not uncommon for a church to be burned or desecrated.

            And, leaving aside the suffering due to one’s religious affiliation, Christians — like nonbelievers, those of other faiths, atheists and agnostics — all experience suffering. We get pancreatic cancer, we suffer through root canals, we go through divorce, we get grim news from the IRS and we have to put up with insufferable coworkers. How can any reasonable person truly believe that inner peace can be achieved in such circumstances?

            And this, indeed, is the surprise: The peace that Jesus gives is unreasonable peace that totally surprises us when we’re the recipients of it. The apostle Paul, writing to the Christians in Philippi, said, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be known to God. And the peace of God, which supasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”1

            It defies explanation. It’s astonishingly unreal. It’s completely unreasonable. Yet there it is. The paradoxical peace of Christ. It’s a deep, abiding peace that comes from knowing we are loved and secure in God’s hands. Perhaps it is relational peace, the kind of serenity that derives from one’s relationship with Christ, who has himself overcome the world.

            Even when everything is crazy, we can have peace. Jesus says so. And Paul does, too. When he says that the peace of Christ “will guard” our hearts and minds (the emotions and intellect), he means that Jesus will look after us and take care of us. The image that the apostle is evoking is that of a Roman military garrison that has taken custody of a prisoner. They are guarding this fellow. To let him escape could mean their very lives.2 Perhaps the apostle writes this even as he spots one of his own guards patrolling the grounds outside of the house where he is under arrest in Rome. The peace of Christ is even stronger than the protection of a Roman legion.3 “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you,” Jesus says.

            So, to sum up: This peace is not the absence of conflict but the presence of God in our lives, assuring us that no matter what happens, we are not alone. Perhaps, it is like being in the eye of a hurricane. The winds rage all around, but within the eye, there is an inexplicable stillness — a calm that defies the chaos outside. This is what the peace of Christ is like. It doesn’t remove the storms from our lives, but it provides a place of calm in the midst of them, a refuge that the world cannot offer.

The pseudo-peace of the world

            That said, a strong case could be made that one has a better chance to achieve inner peace by accepting the peace that the world offers — rather than the peace Jesus offers — especially if peace is defined as a “sense of security.” People can often more easily feel deep inner peace if they believe that their physical bodies are safe from attacks, intrusions and abuse.

            So, in addition to a sense of physical safety, what are the benefits that accrue from investing in the peace that the world offers? (By “world,” read “culture, society or conventional wisdom.”)

            The world says that your chances of feeling safe and secure are enhanced if you pursue a post-secondary education and even a postgraduate degree.

            The world says that you will feel a lot better if you begin your adult life by establishing a rigorous savings program to ensure that your post-retirement years are stress-free.

            The world says that your chances for peace and happiness are enhanced if you can find a life-partner whom you love and with whom you get along, share interests and have a good time. Avoiding divorce goes a long way to having a life of peace.

            The world says that your physical health is everything. No wonder that we in the United States spend more than $250 billion a year on physical exercise, more than any nation in the world. If our bodies are healthy, say the fitness gurus, our souls are healthy. So chug down those protein drinks and those kale-and-carrot smoothies.

            The world says that the accumulation of time-saving machines — technological devices that are up-to-date, a smartphone that doesn’t have a faulty battery, a house that you can actually talk to and that will turn the lights on or off or turn up the heat, or that is self-cleaning — that if you have gizmos and possessions like this, the stress just rolls off.

            It’s rather impressive and frankly, all of this calls into question whether the peace that Jesus offers is really better than the peace that the world offers.

            Yet ... while the peace of Christ defies explanation, is paradoxical and unreasonable, the kind of peace that the world gives is too easy, too pat, too transitory. It does indeed overpromise and underdeliver. It’s the peace of the graveyard. It is a peace that flourishes when the sun is shining and shudders when the storms come crashing through our reality.

            It’s a fragile peace, a false serenity that is dependent on our environment, our achievements and our ability to control situations. It is a fleeting sense of calm that can quickly turn into anxiety when things don’t go as planned. The world’s peace is the peace of a dormant volcano: someday, all heck will break loose.

The peace we should pursue

            The first step in experiencing that peace of Christ is to decide who we’re going to trust and believe. Are we going to believe the fake news of the world and the devil or are we going to trust the very words of Jesus, the Son of the living God, as well as the divinely inspired words of the apostles and the testimony of the saints.

            To experience the peace of Christ, we must trust in him fully. This involves surrendering our fears, anxieties and attempts to control our lives. Jesus tells us, “Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.” This is an invitation to live in his peace, to allow his presence to calm our fears and give us confidence in his love.

            Second, we must not be dismayed by suffering. Suffering has been a part of human experience ever since Adam and Eve were relocated to new accommodations outside the Edenic Gardens Resort. Jesus and the apostles did not get a rose garden. “I have said this to you so that in me you may have peace,” Jesus declared. “In the world you face persecution, but take courage: I have conquered the world!”4 The disciples’ lives are a testament to this reality. They experienced joy in Christ, yet they also endured great suffering, ultimately giving their lives for the Gospel.

            Finally, we must remember the source of our peace. The peace Jesus gives is rooted in his victory over sin and death. On the cross, Jesus secured our reconciliation with God, making peace through his blood.5 Because of this, we can have peace with God, knowing that nothing — no hardship, no persecution — can separate us from his love.6 

            Jesus’ promise of peace does not mean we will avoid hardship. Yes, it is a paradoxical peace. It’s the kind of peace that settles upon us, not when we’ve been airlifted out of the problem, but as we are in the center of the storm.7 The paradoxical peace of Christ means that in the midst of hardship, we can have an inner peace that comes from knowing we are being guarded by the most powerful force in the universe!

1 Philippians 4:6-7, emphasis added.

2  Perhaps the apostle remembers his own experience in the Philippian jail, when at midnight, an earthquake shook the foundation of the prison, opening doors and gates and loosening the chains of all the prisoners, including Paul and Silas. Recall the jailer’s reaction when he realized that his prisoners had likely seized the moment and fled. See Acts 16:25-34.

3 φρουρέω, or phroureo. In addition to Philippians 4:7, the word appears three times in the New Testament, and means to keep watch, or to guard as with a military cohort. See  Galatians 3:23, 1 Peter 1:5: “Through his faithfulness, you are guarded by God’s power so that you can receive the salvation he is ready to reveal in the last time” (CEB, emphasis added).

4 John 16:33.

5 Colossians 1:20.

6 Romans 8:38-39.

7 Note Paul’s autobiographical comments in 2 Corinthians 12:7-10 concerning “a thorn given me in the flesh ... a messenger from Satan” (v. 7). He writes: “Three times I appealed to the Lord about this, that it would leave me but he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.’ So I’ll gladly spend my time bragging about my weaknesses so that Christ’s power can rest on me. Therefore, I’m all right with weaknesses, insults, disasters, harassments, and stressful situations for the sake of Christ, because when I’m weak, then I’m strong.” It’s paradoxical peace.