The God of Peace
Philippians 4:1-9[1]
The world in which we live is definitely not
one that could be described as “peaceful.” Uncertainty seems to be the
watchword of our time—from the economy to family life, from politics to
technology. It seems like everything is in a constant state of flux. Just when
you figure out how to actually use your “smartphone” or your iPad, you get a
software update that sends us all scrambling to figure out how to work the
thing! It can be incredibly frustrating. More than that, the pace of change
creates a sense of anxiety in us all that perhaps there really isn’t anything
out there you can rely on any more.
The truth of the matter is that change has
been one of the “constants” that have defined the human experience from the
beginning. No doubt, the changes in our world have accelerated to the point
where it can make your head spin. But the human family has always had to adapt
to change. In fact, some anthropologists would say that it is our ability to
adapt so well to changing circumstances that enabled us to achieve a position
of predominance over the created order. It’s hard to reconcile yourself with
the pace of change in our day and time, but the strength of our species has
always been our adaptability.
In the midst of all this, however, I think we
need some kind of anchor, some kind of foundation that steadies us when we are
facing such uncertainty. I believe St. Paul understood that very well. He knew
that the people he was writing to in the church at Philippi faced a great deal
of uncertainty because of their faith in Christ. Some of them had been thrown
out of their families. Others had lost their livelihood, because they would no
longer sacrifice to the Greek gods that were patron deities of their trade
unions. Many found themselves at times at the mercy of mob violence—beaten and
humiliated, and at times they lost their lives. These were people who knew
uncertainty intimately.
Beyond that, St. Paul himself knew the kind of
hardships they were undergoing. In his letters he recounts the life he had
experienced as a Christian Apostle. It was definitely not a storybook life. In
another place, Paul lists all that he had been through for the sake of Christ
and the churches he served: flogged to the brink of death five times, pelted
with stones and left for dead, shipwrecked three times, spending a night and a
day adrift on the open sea, not to mention spending many a sleepless night in
prison, hungry, and cold (2 Cor. 11:23-27). His life was one that was far from
safe: he says he experienced “danger from bandits, danger from my own people,
danger from Gentiles, danger in the city, danger in the wilderness, danger at
sea, danger from false brothers and sisters” (2 Cor. 11:26).
When you realize what the first Christians had
to go through because of their faith, it makes you wonder how they were able to
endure it all. In part, St. Paul answers that question with his call not to
give in to anxiety, but to turn to God in prayer. And the promise he makes is a
familiar one: “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard
your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:7). I find that an
incredibly practical statement. That’s where the battle with uncertainty and
anxiety is won or lost—in our hearts and our minds. We need to feel safe in our
hearts and we need to be able to think of our lives as secure in God’s hands.
But more than that, St. Paul assures the
believers of his day and every day that “the God of peace will be with you”
(Phil. 4:9). I think that’s a loaded statement. Speaking about the God of peace
can be a description of God’s character: He is the God who embodies peace. It
can also say something about the end result of God’s work in our world: He is
the God who is working toward peace. But, perhaps most importantly for this
context, it can describe how God relates to us: He is the God who gives us
peace. And St. Paul says that it is this God who is constantly with us,
providing us with an anchor for our souls and a foundation upon which to stand
when everything around us feels like it’s falling apart.
I think it’s easy for us to look back on times
past and think that it was much more peaceful then. The pace of life was slower
and its course was more predictable. For most of us, those “golden days” were
the days of our childhood. I grew up in the 1960’s in a small town in Texas. It
certainly seemed a lot more peaceful to a young boy. But of course, it was a
time of great upheaval in our country. I think the same can be said for any
decade going back to the founding of this church. It has been a time of constant
turmoil and uncertainty.
I don’t believe we find our stability, our
foundation, or our anchor in a particular time frame. Nor do we find it in a
particular version of our culture. Those things are always in motion, flowing
like the current in a great river that wanders seemingly at will. We need
something more stable than that to help us face the uncertainty of our times.
As one observer puts it, we really do face the choice to “trust God or to trust
nothing.”[2]
Trusting nothing leaves us at the mercy of whatever comes our way. The only
real solution is to trust the “God of peace” who is with us through all the
uncertainty we face.
[1]
©2017 Alan Brehm. A sermon
delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 10/15/2017 at Hickman Presbyterian Church,
Hickman, NE.
[2]
Philip Yancey, Reaching for the Invisible God, 71, where quotes
John Donne.
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