It happens every time. We are going on a trip. We leave the house on our way to the airport. And then begins the questioning. Did we turn down the heat? Did we leave lights on? Did we lock the doors? Did we stop the mail? Why do we do this to ourselves? This line of questioning produces such terrible anxiety! Granted, when the full list hasn’t been gone through, one could arrive at the airport entrance, only to vividly picture one’s passport lying serenely on the dresser top, precisely where it was placed in full view so as not to be forgotten. (It was a very anxious 45-minute return home to retrieve it, and another 45-minute dash back to the airport. We made it just in time for me to run to my boarding gate).
Peace can so easily be displaced by anxiety and self-recrimination. And this isn’t the only example of peace lost! Phone calls can sometimes do it. News reports, too. Final exams. Car repair bills. Preparing for April 15. That elusive leak in the shower. You can probably name a few of your own. The critical thing to note in each of these mini-crises is that they are eventually resolved and soon forgotten. As Sue and I say to each other often in these situations: ‘In the light of eternity . . .”
And it’s the Light of Eternity that reconfigures situations like those. Jesus, that Light of Eternity, is also the Prince of Peace, the very Author of Peace. When he bestowed his own personal peace on his disciples, the guys didn’t know, at the time, the full precious measure of the gift they’d been given. Jesus’ peace! Uninterruptible peace! Uncancellable peace! Unperturbable peace! Theirs! (Ours!) No wonder Jesus was dismayed when he saw fear on the disciples’ faces. (Did they not receive his gift to them? Were they just not believing? Worse, were they believing they were bereft of help? Of Jesus’ friendship? Of a sufficiently capable peace? Were they choosing to believe in their own flawed and pitiful level of peace instead of his?)
Our peace is not circumstantial. It’s anchored solidly in the person of Jesus, in his peace. As Paul reminds us, ‘It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me. So I live in this earthly body by trusting in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.’ Galatians 2:20, NLT. The next time there’s a tempest brewing in our peace tanks, whether because of car keys or passports, let’s remember Jesus’ perfect equilibrium. He’s offering it to us afresh. PD
