Today, we reflect on the last discourse of Jesus. He tells His disciples, “Peace I leave with you. My peace I give to you.” It sounds simple enough. We all know what peace is. But the peace of Christ is far from simple.
This tension is powerfully captured in T.S. Eliot’s play, “Murder in the Cathedral.” In one scene, Archbishop Thomas Becket delivers his Christmas sermon. He asks, “Does it seem strange to you that the angels should have announced peace, when, endlessly, the world has been stricken with war and fear of war? Does it seem strange that the angelic voices were mistaken? And that the promise was a disappointment and a cheat?”
We, too, might ask with Thomas Becket: does the promise of peace clash with the reality around us? We see war and violence in so many places around the world. There is ongoing conflict in Gaza and in Ukraine. So many countries in our world simply do not know peace. Where could it be?
Division and disunity surround us. Amid so much dissension, we may begin to question whether our liturgy is simply wishful thinking. We wish each other peace at every Mass, but it often feels like there is no real peace to offer.
The word “peace” does little to erase the harshness of the real world out there. There is also a world inside of us – one that is also at war. We wrestle with our passions, our fears, our anger and our disdain. This internal conflict is part of the human condition.
So, what is the peace that Christ promised? What does it truly mean?
To understand, we must journey back to the Old Testament. For the Israelites, peace wasn’t just about harmony with nature, others, or even oneself. True peace meant being in a proper relationship with God.
Sailors have an old saying: “The storm cannot sink a ship unless it gets inside.” Jesus’ life demonstrates this truth. During His final week, He was surrounded by chaos, yet the storm never entered His heart.
He was surrounded by fear. Pilate feared for his position; the Apostles feared for their lives. But fear never consumed Jesus. He was surrounded by hate. The Jews hated the Romans, and the religious leaders conspired against Him. But hate never pierced His heart. He remained steadfast; one with God the Father.
For different people, peace means different things. To a soldier, peace is the absence of war. To a mother, it’s a sleeping baby. To an employee, it’s a good performance review and job security. But the peace Christ offers is deeper than all of these. It’s a peace the world cannot give. It’s the peace of communion with God, a peace that coexists with the chaos, the suffering and the pain of this world.
Christ spoke of this joint action when He told us, “In Me, you may find peace. In the world, you have found suffering. But have courage. I have conquered the world.”
If Christ conquered the world, so must we. You don’t have to go to the world’s hot spots, but ask yourself: “What wars have I ended in my own backyard? What bombs of envy or hate have I defused? Who hurts less because I’ve chosen to love more?”
To experience the peace of Christ, give it away. Help others catch a glimpse of God’s presence.
As we reflect on Christ’s promise of peace, we remember that 2025 is the Church’s Jubilee Year, with the theme “Pilgrims of Hope.” This theme is connected to the peace we seek. As pilgrims, we travel with purpose, often through rough terrain. But hope sustains us, leading us towards God’s peace.
This Jubilee Year, remember that even in a world that can be filled with trials and troubles, Christ can guide us to His peace, one step at a time.
