Editor’s note: This article is the honorable mention pick for The Banner’s 2024 Young Adults Writing Contest on the topic of peacemaking. Read the other winners here.
“Peace be with you!” are the first words Jesus offered to his disciples as he appeared to them after his resurrection. “After he said this, he showed them his hands and side” (John 20:19). What stands out to me from this scene is that Jesus seems to be communicating, not just through the words he spoke, but through his physical body bearing the scarred evidence of the cost of his love is that his very presence is peace. What the disciples must have forgotten as they locked the door in fear, and I imagine experienced anxiety, sorrow, pain, and confusion as they waited in the darkened days after their Lord was nailed to the cross is what we also often fail to remember today. That is, Jesus’ promise to us; “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 be afraid” (John 14:27).
I have often been skeptical of this peace that Jesus gives. My own story is marked by experiencing seasons of anxiousness because I believed the lies of perfectionism, and that peace is only possible if I do everything right. I think about how I’ve wrestled with the burden of the suffering others experience as I question my own physical comfort and conclude that to be at peace is wrong when our world is not. Or how I found myself again because of these seeming dichotomies weighed down within the busyness of a difficult college semester, and exhausted by trying to make sense of it all in the office of a spiritual mentor in campus ministries. It is in this particular moment that as I shared with her my overwhelm and confusion, she shared with me an encouragement that has since changed my understanding of peace and what it means to be Christ’s peacemaker in our world today.
Peace is a person, she said, and we have a choice to posture ourselves toward him, or to a world that is in chaos. It is true, she acknowledged, that we are deeply impacted by our own brokenness and that we live in a world filled with the darkness of injustice, violence, and systems of oppression. Yet, she reminded, it is also true that the person of Jesus teaches us a different way; “I do not give to you as the world gives.” Peace comes to meet us where we are. Peace is not an empty promise but the gift of himself to be received and shared.
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called Children of God” (Matthew 5:9) Jesus said. Peacemaking begins with an identity that becomes the type of presence we practice. To be identified with our Father is an invitation to be a peacemaker, not someone who strives to earn this title. To be called a child of the God of peace is a profound and humbling identity that is given, rather than curated as our culture promotes. The Prince of Peace declares that his is a kingdom of peacemakers and in doing so invites us to be like him. His embodiment of peace meant he took on human flesh, entering into pain and sorrow; and extending love, grace, and compassion to those who are lost and hurt. To be Christ’s peacemaker means to walk the road of peace with him as who we are, not just what we do.
Jesus’ life also shows us that his way of peacemaking is intricately related to the practice of prayer. Prayer, when it comes to peacemaking, is a powerful invitation to be honest before God as we refuse to accept what is wrong in this world. While the world might see prayer as passivity, in submission to Christ, our prayers admit that the outcome of our efforts do not depend on us, for ultimately the work of peace is his. Jesus prayed before he healed and before he preached (Luke 6:12). He modeled that his words and actions were in obedience first to his Father. Jesus wept at the reality of death (John 11:35). His tears show us that lament is a way that in our humanity we engage in peacemaking. In our prayers for peace, we proclaim that proximity is not necessary for our intercession as we cry for those whose tears have run out.
Being Christ’s peacemaker also requires our patience. In our world today that seeks quick fixes and prioritizes efficiency it is a mark of the kingdom of peace that we declare, in hopeful expectation, that what is to come is worth our labour now. The present hope of Christ to be near to us and to those who live amidst the tragedy of violence and oppression is also a future hope. The vision of Revelation 21:4 that “There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away” is a promise of peace for which we patiently endure.
As the scene after Jesus’ resurrection invites us to reflect on, peace is ushered in by the presence of a person. As my mentor sat with me overwhelmed by the world’s troubles and my own, I tangibly experienced the way that her presence and prayers became the promise of Christ with me. In embracing our identity as children of God it is in our own scarred bodies that Christ’s life of peace is found by those we also extend love, grace, and compassion to. Our practice of presence, of prayer, and patience form in us a posture toward Christ that today’s world needs, for “he himself is our peace” (Ephesians 2:14).