Peace

If someone asked you, “What do you want most in life?” you’d probably have a list. Kids do this every Christmas—writing down everything they hope to get, and then narrowing it to the one thing they want most. The sermon makes a simple point: having a long list isn’t bad. God isn’t stingy. The sacrifice has already been made. Like an all-you-can-eat buffet that’s already paid for, God invites you to come and receive.

But if you strip the lists down to the deepest desire most people share, one word rises to the top: peace. Not just believers—almost everyone on earth wants peace and is willing to pay a lot for it. The problem is, peace feels rare. Nations fight nations. Communities fracture. Families carry tension. Even inside our own heads, we struggle with anxiety, guilt, and restlessness. We don’t just lack world peace—we lack personal peace.

The gospel claims something bold: God offers real peace. Peace with Him, peace inside yourself, and peace with other people. But that peace isn’t automatic. It’s tied to being in a right relationship with God—living in a way where He can say, “I am pleased with you.” That’s the angelic promise at Jesus’ birth: peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased. Peace grows where God is trusted and obeyed. When we ignore Him, we shouldn’t be surprised if life fills with strife.

Why Peace Keeps Slipping Away

When relationships are tense, the easiest move is blame. It’s the neighbor’s fault. The other country’s fault. The people at work are idiots. That reflex is old as humanity. But the sermon pushes a harder truth: sometimes the lack of peace starts in me. If I’m not at peace within myself, it will leak out into every relationship around me.

That’s why Christmas can become ironic. We celebrate the birth of the Prince of Peace, yet we often turn the season into one of the most stressful times of the year—pressure, expectations, endless planning. Peace feels like another planet, even though Christmas exists to teach us peace.

God doesn’t just suggest peace. Scripture calls Him “the Lord of peace,” and promises that He can give peace “at all times and in every way.” The point is not that life will be easy, but that your soul can be steady even when life isn’t.

Peace With God Comes First (And There’s No Negotiation)

Here Paul’s logic in Ephesians 2 matters. Before Christ, humanity wasn’t neutral toward God—we were at war with Him. We might not feel it emotionally, but spiritually we were His enemies. That’s why there can’t be lasting peace inside us until peace with God is settled first. If the center is wrong, the rest can’t hold.

And here the sermon gets very direct: peace with God isn’t a negotiation. You don’t bargain with Him like nations barter treaties. You don’t say, “God, I want your forgiveness, but I’m keeping this habit. I want peace, but I also want control.” That approach leaves the war intact.

The sermon uses the idea of a suzerain covenant—a treaty where one king is sovereign and the other submits. That’s the shape of our peace with God. He is in charge. Peace arrives when we stop trying to manage the terms and start trusting His terms. If we refuse that, we stay in conflict with the One who died to bring us peace.

Peace Between People Is Part of the Gospel

Paul insists that peace isn’t just vertical (me and God). It’s horizontal too (me and others). In fact, the gospel spreads more easily where people aren’t busy destroying each other. That’s why Paul tells believers to pray for leaders and governments: not because governments are perfect, but because a stable society makes it easier for the good news to travel.

Historically, that was one of the reasons Jesus came when He did. The Roman Empire held the Mediterranean world together enough that travel was possible and relatively safe. That peace—imperfect as it was—became a highway for the gospel.

But Paul pushes it even closer to home. Within the church and within personal relationships, peace is a responsibility, not a mood. Scripture repeats the instruction in different forms:

Be humble and gentle.

Be patient.

Forgive.

Work hard for unity.

Live at peace “as far as it depends on you.”

And Jesus makes it practical: if someone sins against you, you don’t just simmer. You go to them. Face-to-face. Privately. You try to win your brother or sister back. Peace doesn’t grow by avoidance—it grows by courage, honesty, and forgiveness.

The point is simple: if we can’t be at peace with each other, the world won’t be very interested in the peace we claim to have found.

Peace Inside Yourself: Where It Really Comes From

Even when there’s no active conflict with other people, many of us still live without inner peace. The sermon names some usual roots: guilt, a sense of failure, pressure from the world, the feeling that “I’m not okay.” And the world offers substitutes—buy this product, try this technique, numb this feeling, start a new relationship, take a pill or a drug. But those things can’t rebuild the center.

Paul describes the human mess honestly in Romans 7: “I want to do what’s right, but I can’t. I keep doing what I hate.” He doesn’t pretend peace is found by willpower. His answer is Jesus. And then Romans 8 lands like a door opening: “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”

That’s peace. Not because circumstances are perfect, but because the deepest war is over. Guilt no longer keeps stabbing like a hidden ache in the night. You can rest because you’re forgiven and held by God.

That’s also why prayer matters so much. When anxiety rises, Scripture doesn’t tell you to tough it out. It says: don’t be anxious—bring everything to God with prayer and thanksgiving. Peace starts returning when you hand the weight back to Him.

Jesus, the Pacific Ocean, and the Peacemaker You’re Called to Be

The sermon ends with a picture from history. Magellan fought through a terrifying, violent stretch of ocean at the tip of South America. When he finally emerged into calm waters, he named that ocean “Pacific”—the peaceful one. He had moved from chaos into stillness.

That’s what Jesus does. He is our peaceful one. He doesn’t just have peace; He makes peace. Ephesians 2 says Christ Himself is our peace—breaking down walls, reconciling enemies, bringing people back to God and back to each other. And once you receive His peace, you’re meant to carry it outward.

“Blessed are the peacemakers,” Jesus says, “for they will be called children of God.” That’s not a small compliment. It means when you bring peace, you look like your Father.

So yes—we all want peace. We crave it. But the gospel says there is one real source. Peace doesn’t start with perfect circumstances. It starts with relying on Christ, letting Him end the war inside you, and then living from that center in the way you treat others.

First, find His peace.

Then, become a peacemaker.