Ploughing Peace into Everyday Life

Its presence stretches back to the dawn of time.  Its complete restoration hungers for that final day. It’s engraved onto almost every greeting in the New Testament.  It’s the undercurrent that pulsates its way through the story-arc of Scripture.  From the earliest offering, God replaces wrath with love, infidelity with faithfulness, sin with righteousness, and enmity with peace.  

And then we read these words: ‘He himself is our peace’.

Once again, we’re left marveling that of course, this pulsating current coursing through the veins of history is always pointing towards Christ, and his atoning work on the cross.

Once again, we’re left in no doubt that to pursue peace, this glorious fruit of the Spirit, is in fact to pursue Christ himself.

For as we do so - as fix our eyes on the root of peace, who brought eternal reconciliation with our Maker, the branches begin to dance in tandem, pulsating with the Vine’s peace-giving fruit.

And what is this glorious fruit that overflows? It’s a heart at rest with God.  It’s a heart rejoicing that God is no longer Judge but Father.  Indeed, as John Flavel writes, to doubt that I am fully accepted and loved, is to ‘be an enemy of [my] own peace’.  But, it is also so much more than just the peace within, however sacred that is in itself.  

For, it is also the means to a harvest of peace with others.  The dividing wall of hostility is no longer.  It must be no longer.  For if we are found in Him, we must pursue, by his one Spirit, peace with our neighbours.  And because we are wholly safe in Christ, his atoning work securing us in his love, we can.  

Paul exhorts us that as far as it depends on us, we’re to strive to live at peace with everyone.  James tells us we’re literally to sow it, to plough it into the fabric of our everyday lives.  To be peace-makers, reaping a harvest of righteousness.  Not in our own strength.  But with prayerful dependence on the Spirit, we pursue it.  In the tiny moments of broken peace at home.  In the larger ruptures further afield.  And everything in between.

Why? Because He himself is our peace.