Chrysostom
Beloved of All
Your prayer for healing and peace reveals a soul seeking shelter, yet you must test what you mean by that peace. The peace of God is not a truce with the passions that war against your soul, nor an easy truce with the world. Did He not say He came to bring a sword? The disease must be cut out for the body to be whole. If you pray for deliverance from evil, then wage war on the evil within your own household first. Is there a faction in your heart, a mutinous thought you shelter because it is familiar? That peace is no peace, but a conspiracy of robbers.
The peace I speak of is an umpire. When two thoughts wrestle in you, one urging revenge or softness, the other bidding endurance and fortitude, let the peace of God award the prize to the thought that leads to holiness. For without holiness, the text says, no one shall see the Lord. Do not imagine that simply asking for protection will make you whole if you remain soft and unmanly in virtue. It is not enough to be free from one worldly snare; we must also be steadfast in hearing the word and contemptuous of all earthly things. No one part is sufficient for salvation.
Consider too: you pray for your family. The peace of Christ is not a private possession. When strife exists with a brother, you are tearing a member from the Body of Christ Himself. That wound is worse than the soldier’s spear. Before you lift your voice for the peace that passes understanding, examine whether you have given the peace you so often hear in the assembly. When the blessing is pronounced, “Peace unto all,” do you return it to the one who has grieved you, or do your lips speak peace while your mind wages war? That majestic usage becomes a hollow form, a mere figure of words, and the peace you ask for returns to you void.
Despair not. The dove did not return with an olive branch to signal a temporary calm, but to point to the Deliverer who grants adoption to the entire world. That peace is steadfast, given of His own will, unearned. Pursue that peace, the reconciliation that makes men well-pleasing to God, not the false peace that leaves the gangrene in the limb. Let the angel of peace, the Spirit of meekness, gentle your heart. Then the peace that rules your heart will be no fleeting human truce, but the very foundation of joy, a gift that renders you stronger and unites your whole being in good order.
The peace I speak of is an umpire. When two thoughts wrestle in you, one urging revenge or softness, the other bidding endurance and fortitude, let the peace of God award the prize to the thought that leads to holiness. For without holiness, the text says, no one shall see the Lord. Do not imagine that simply asking for protection will make you whole if you remain soft and unmanly in virtue. It is not enough to be free from one worldly snare; we must also be steadfast in hearing the word and contemptuous of all earthly things. No one part is sufficient for salvation.
Consider too: you pray for your family. The peace of Christ is not a private possession. When strife exists with a brother, you are tearing a member from the Body of Christ Himself. That wound is worse than the soldier’s spear. Before you lift your voice for the peace that passes understanding, examine whether you have given the peace you so often hear in the assembly. When the blessing is pronounced, “Peace unto all,” do you return it to the one who has grieved you, or do your lips speak peace while your mind wages war? That majestic usage becomes a hollow form, a mere figure of words, and the peace you ask for returns to you void.
Despair not. The dove did not return with an olive branch to signal a temporary calm, but to point to the Deliverer who grants adoption to the entire world. That peace is steadfast, given of His own will, unearned. Pursue that peace, the reconciliation that makes men well-pleasing to God, not the false peace that leaves the gangrene in the limb. Let the angel of peace, the Spirit of meekness, gentle your heart. Then the peace that rules your heart will be no fleeting human truce, but the very foundation of joy, a gift that renders you stronger and unites your whole being in good order.
