Nearly everyone remembers the famous photo from V-J Day at the end of World War II, where an exuberant sailor in the middle of Times Square is kissing a nurse, whose back is bent almost horizontal. You can even buy posters of that picture today on the Internet. Alfred Eisenstaedt, the famous photographer, wrote later that he had spotted the guy
running along the street grabbing any and every girl in sight. Whether she was a grandmother, stout, thin, old, didn't make any difference. I was running ahead of him with my Leica [camera] looking back over my shoulder…. Then suddenly, in a flash, I saw something white being grabbed. I turned around and clicked the moment the sailor kissed the nurse. People tell me that when I am in heaven they will remember this picture.1
Some two million people jammed the intersection that day—August 14, 1945—to uncork their joy and relief after six years of deadly conflict. No more anxious wives wondering if their husbands far away would be shot or captured … no more children crying for Daddy in the night … no more mothers fearing a chaplain's knock at the front door. People could finally take a deep breath and look to the future without apprehension.
When war finally ceases and peace reigns at last, human emotions are overwhelming. People laugh, they cry, they shout, they run to hug their loved ones (or even strangers), they celebrate with wild abandon. No more fighting! No more casualties! No more uncertainty!
I wonder what the joyful outburst was like back in Israel when Othniel, the first judge, prevailed against the enemy so that “the land had peace for forty years” (Judg. 3:11). Then Ehud, the second judge, beat back the Moabites, “and the land had peace for eighty years” (Judg. 3:30). Deborah and Barak's campaign brought yet another forty-year period of tranquility (see Judg. 5:31). Did they dance and throw a party? Did they slap each other on the back? Did they pump the air with their fists? We know for sure that they sang. The lyrics of their victory song take up a whole page of the Bible (Judg. 5). Catch the enthusiasm in “Hear this, you kings! Listen, you rulers! I, even I, will sing to the LORD; I will praise the LORD, the God of Israel, in song” (v. 3).
Gideon showed his deepest yearnings when, while still under the grinding oppression of the Midianites, he named his little altar Jehovah-Shalom, which means “The LORD Is Peace” (Judg. 6:24). God used him to bring about still another forty years without conflict (Judg. 8:28).
It must have been during one of these peaceful periods that the two vulnerable women, Naomi and Ruth, made their trek safely over the roads from Moab to Bethlehem. They could travel, unescorted, without fear.
What did peace mean to the ordinary Israelite in these times? It meant children could go out and play freely, without worry of being kidnapped. It meant parents could sleep soundly at night. A farmer could work hard and know that his crops would not be confiscated; he could use his earnings to take care of his family rather than be driven into poverty.
Here in the twenty-first century, in the middle of a “war on terrorism,” we long for that moment of relief, don't we? And we fear it will never come. Peace is in short supply these days.
On a more personal level, many people today yearn for peace in their own lives. Even if the nations of the world were at rest and no insurgent groups were plotting mayhem in the shadows, many individuals would still be on edge because of fighting with their spouse or their children. Stress on the interpersonal level takes a heavy toll on millions. You can be making a six-figure salary but still lie awake at night torn apart by fractured relationships. Nothing can be enjoyed—not good food, a well-played concert, an exciting sports event at the stadium, the birth of a new baby in your family. It all goes for naught without inner tranquility.
I grew up in the home of an alcoholic father. If my dad was drinking, there was no peace, even at two or three o'clock in the morning. Whereas most people normally feel a sense of relief when they arrive home after a hectic day—“Oh, it's good to be home again”—I felt the opposite. My relief came whenever I left the house. (That's part of the reason I spent so much time playing basketball in the neighborhood. I wasn't what today is called a “gym rat,” but I was a “playground rat,” staying outdoors as long as I could. I would keep playing even under the lights there at Public School 92, so I wouldn't have to go home to the turmoil again.)
What a relief it was in our family when Dad finally, at the age of seventy-one, surrendered his problem to the Lord. His personal war with the bottle stopped, and we all felt the calm come over us.
The Peace of God
The words of the ancient blessing from Aaron and his priestly descendants struck a chord in the hearts of judges like Deborah and Gideon, and they still do in our hearts today:
“The LORD bless you
and keep you;
the LORD make his face shine on you
and be gracious to you;
the LORD turn his face toward you
and give you peace” (Num. 6:24–26).
Notice the phrasing here. This kind of peace is not just a human achievement. It is a gift from above.
That is certainly what Jesus said to his disciples during the Last Supper: “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid” (John 14:27).
What is this that the Son of God termed “my” peace? It was supernatural. This was the peace that kept him in control of himself while standing on trial before hostile and unfair authorities. This peace sustained him as he stumbled toward Golgotha. The crowd howled out their disdain for him. The soldiers then nailed him to the instrument of torture. Still, he held onto his peace.
The apostle Paul wrote to the Philippians a wonderful promise of God. After describing certain steps we all can take, he said in response that “the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:7).
This is a different thing from what the Bible calls “peace with God”—which, incidentally, was the title of Billy Graham's trademark book, still in print after more than fifty years. He was writing about the great benefit of salvation. As Romans 5:1 puts it, “Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.” The wrath of God is no longer hanging over our heads. We have confessed our sins to God. He has forgiven us because of the sacrifice of Jesus, and we have been accepted into his family. He has granted us pardon, so that our offenses have been cleared, and now we are in a state of peace with God. This is indeed a wonderful blessing.
But the peace of God, on the other hand, goes beyond our mental comprehension. It is a state of living that should characterize the rest of our years on earth—and beyond, into eternity. It's far more than just “having a good day.” You could be living in a hut somewhere in the middle of a terrible drought … and still be the happiest person on the planet, because you possess the peace of God. This is deeper than just having adequate food and shelter, let alone a new car. This is shalom—that wonderful Hebrew word that means completeness, wholeness, blessing for the total person.
Peace is not just the absence of frustration, anxiety, or turbulence. It is life the way God designed it to be. It is a piece of heaven, the place of no tears, the place where shalom rules. We can hardly imagine it.
God wants us to enjoy this kind of blessing here on earth. He has promised us his peace. We frequently ask him to give us other things—more money, for example, or a promotion at work, or a healing of some kind. All kinds of people say to us ministers, “Would you pray that God would work a miracle in my life?”
“What kind of miracle?” we respond.
“Well, I really need a better job” (or a turnaround in a child's behavior, or some other request).
Rarely do we ever hear, “Pastor, please lay hands on me and pray for God to visit me with his supernatural peace.”
Peace is not just getting a raise, finding a more attractive boyfriend or girlfriend, or going on vacation to the south of France. It is that deep sense that God is in charge of my life, and he is working out the best for me, whether I understand it at the moment or not. He is saying, “I want to be with you at all times because I love you. No matter where you are and what is going wrong in your circumstances, I will lead you in the path of my peace.”
The trouble is, someone else is working 24/7 to cheat us out of this supernatural peace. That someone is Satan. Anything that God treasures for his people, the devil tries to rip off. He especially likes to rob our hearts of peace.
How true is the proverb that says, “A heart at peace gives life to the body, but envy rots the bones” (14:30). Medical science keeps discovering in these years what the Bible has known all along—that stress and discord are not good for your physiology. All kinds of studies keep coming out to document how the white blood cells and other physical components are at risk when we're churned up in our spirit.
Sports psychologists are exploring the mind-body connection as well. They tell golfers that after hitting a bad shot, they have to take a deep breath and clear their mind of all negativity. If they don't, the next shot is most likely going to veer off into the woods, too.
Our whole life can be thrown out of balance by the lack of “a heart at peace.” That, of course, is exactly what the devil wants. He pursues his evil goals in four ways: he makes accusations, stirs up animosity, floods us with anxiety, and pollutes our minds with garbage. But with God's help, we can reclaim peace. Here's how:
1. Resist Accusations
Satan loves bringing up the past, reminding us of things we can't change now. I know what you did ten years ago, he whispers. Remember how you cheated your employer and got away with it? But God saw it, don't you know? Do you think he just forgets that kind of stuff? How do you think you're going to enjoy the blessing of God today with all that in your background?
One of Satan's names in the Bible is “the accuser of our brothers and sisters” (Rev. 12:10). That verse goes on to declare, “[he] accuses them before our God day and night.” He loves to spite God, saying things like, See how I take your peace away from your people? They can't hold onto it when I come around and remind them of all the rotten things they've done.
Yes, we can! By resisting the accusation we can hold on to God's peace. In Philippians 4, the apostle Paul promises that “the peace of God” also gives us a way to defend ourselves. In verse 4 he encourages us to “rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!” When we lift up our hearts to the Lord and rejoice in what he has done for us, we neutralize the accusations. We look toward the fact that we are on our way to heaven. We are going there for sure—and the devil is not! He's headed for the opposite place to be punished forever. Meanwhile, we are on track to the glories of the celestial city.
It doesn't do any good to start reasoning with Satan. Some people say to him, “Yes, that was pretty bad what I did, wasn't it? I'm really going to do better now. I hope my good deeds will outweigh my bad deeds in the end.” This is a sure way to lose your peace in about thirty seconds. Your spiritual life will be up and down like a yo-yo. The fact is, if you have confessed your sins to God and received his forgiveness, there's no longer any record of them in heaven. God is saying, “What sins? I'm looking at the ledger here, and I don't see any transgressions at all.” The blood of Christ has cleansed you of all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9).
That's a pretty good reason to rejoice in the Lord!
Carol and I know a dear woman who has walked with Christ for many years. Before knowing the Lord, she had four children by three different fathers. The kids are all grown now, but the enemy regularly nags her about her past conduct. She came to us in tears one day. “I don't know … I'm just remembering the kind of life I led,” she said. “What was I thinking, hopping in bed with all those different men? I keep hearing this voice in my head—You lived like an animal….” At this, she turned her face away in shame.
That is the voice of the accuser. We counseled this woman to resist the accusation, to stand instead on the fact that her past has been wiped clean. She has a new beginning in Christ. The price he paid on the cross was “to present you holy in his sight, without blemish and free from accusation” (Col. 1:22). When we rejoice in this awesome provision for our sins, we can hang onto our peace. In fact, we are able to be a living example of what Paul wrote at the end of his letter to the Romans: “The God of peace will soon crush Satan under your feet” (Rom. 16:20). What a marvelous triumph this produces in us!
2. Resolve Animosity
In addition to making accusations, Satan robs us of peace by stirring up bad feelings toward another person. Someone abuses us emotionally or verbally, and we start nursing a grudge. We brood about the offense: I can't believe she just walked out on me … I can't believe he didn't say hello when we passed one another in the hall … I married into this family, and they treat me like dirt, even though they think my husband [or wife] walks on water … I worked really hard on that solo, but they gave the part to somebody else…. This kind of animosity is sure to drain our peace.
Philippians 4 describes two women in the church who were out of sorts with each other. The apostle Paul even put their two names right out in the open for everyone to read: “I plead with Euodia and I plead with Syntyche to be of the same mind in the Lord. Yes, and I ask you, my true companion, help these women …” (vv. 2–3). If you got your name in the Bible only one time, wouldn't you hate to have it show up under these conditions? What if an apostle wrote, “I plead with Pastor Jim Cymbala and Pastor Charles Hammond [one of our longtime associates here in Brooklyn] to get along in the Lord”? We both would be very embarrassed.
Notice that these women were not two novices who had just become Christians the week before. They had done many good things for the Lord. Paul said they had “contended at my side in the cause of the gospel” (v. 3). They were up there in the same league with Priscilla and Phoebe and other women of the first century who carried out important work for God. Yet here they were, having a fight. It was public enough that the apostle went ahead and brought the issue out before the whole Philippian church.
And he did not say, as we are prone to say in our day, “Well, that's too bad, isn't it? But it's not my business. Let them work it out on their own.”
No, Paul wrote to an unnamed person he called simply “my true companion” (v. 3) and said, in essence, “Jump in there and do something! Get those two women in a room, and say, ‘Come on—we have to work this out. No more fighting and fussing. You hurt her? Or she hurt you? Well, we're not leaving this room until you two are at peace. We're going to talk and pray this through.’”
This is the ministry of peacemaking, which Jesus said was a blessed thing (Matt. 5:9). He wanted to see his peace reign in people's lives, especially those who claim to be his disciples.
A few verses later, Jesus urges that we take the initiative ourselves when we are crosswise of someone: “If you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to that person; then come and offer your gift” (Matt. 5:23–24). Restoring peace and resolving animosity is more important than carrying on a worship service, Jesus said. After all, what good is an offering or a praise song or a fancy prayer if you're mad at somebody? How can you honestly sing “We Worship and Adore You” if the “we” includes somebody you despise, or somebody who despises you? What is God more interested in, a song or reconciliation that leads to peace?
Sometimes we say, “Oh, I couldn't go to anybody like that. I'm just not the type.” Well, then, we're an unbiblical type. God wants us to get peace back in our relationships so we can then worship him with open and sincere hearts.
What if you try to approach the other person, and they tell you to get lost? Then you can arrive at peace through a different route. You can hand this situation over to God, knowing you have done what he asked you to do. This is why the Bible says, “If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone” (Rom. 12:18). Granted, sometimes the other person's heart is so hard that peace is not possible. But we must do everything within our power to bring about reconciliation. If the person lives in another state now, we can pick up the phone and call them. Our job is to have the right spirit, to be honest, to apologize even if we think we might be misunderstood—and then leave the results to God.
3. Release Anxiety
Another tactic Satan uses to steal our peace is to flood us with anxiety. We all know the things that keep us awake at night: the future … our mounting bills … our wayward son or daughter … the health issue our doctor hasn't yet figured out … safety in our neighborhood. When we are obsessed with these things, we don't sleep well, and we don't rest in God's love.
Philippians 4 has a remedy for this, too. It says, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God” (v. 6).
We take the weight that is bearing down on us and give it to God in prayer. There is an actual transfer here; we lift the weight up and off from our backs, and he takes it for handling. The thing that has been too heavy for us is a light weight in his hands. We come like a little child. We don't try to formulate a prayer that sounds like the King James Version. We say instead, “Father, I'm really bothered by this. I'm worried about how it's going to turn out. Would you take care of it for me? How about if I just unload this onto you? You're so much stronger than I am.”
The result, if we truly leave our anxieties to God, is supernatural peace.
We often recite our problems to God, but there's no real transfer. The minute we say “amen,” we feel just as weighed down as when we started. Our minds are still consumed with “What in the world am I going to do about this?” Nothing was, in fact, handed over to the Almighty One.
E. Stanley Jones, the great Methodist missionary to India, wrote a one-page devotional in the early 1940s with a shocking title: “Worry Is Atheism.” Many churchgoing people would claim to believe in God even though they still worry “once in a while.” What did this man of God mean? He wrote:
A person who worries says, “I cannot trust God; I'll take things into my own hands. Result? Worry, frustration, incapacity to meet the dreaded thing when it does come…. Worry says, “God doesn't care, and so He won't do anything—I'll have to worry it through.” Faith says, “God does care, and He and I will work it out together. I'll supply the willingness, and He will supply the power—with that combination we can do anything.”2
When we truly release our anxieties to God, “the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:7). That is a divine guarantee! The imagery here is military; the peace of God is portrayed as a sentry, marching in crisp cadence around and around your heart (the deepest part of your emotions) as well as your mind (the center of your thought life). Hut-two-three-four, hut-two-three-four … the divine sentry keeps circling you hour after hour, making sure nothing harmful gets through to touch either your emotions or your conscious thoughts. You are fully protected.
I saw this level of peace not long ago at the graveside of our associate pastor Carlo Boekstaaf, whom I mentioned earlier. I stood there holding the hand of Ingrid, his wonderful and godly wife, who was now left alone much sooner than she had expected. As the officiating minister that day, I fought to control my emotions, because Carlo was one of my closest friends.
Ingrid sensed what I was going through, and she quietly murmured as we stood there, “Don't worry, Pastor. It will be fine. I'm going to be all right. And you will, too.”
I thought to myself, My goodness—I'm the minister here, and she's the widow. I'm supposed to be saying those things to her! Her peace was not logical. It was absolutely supernatural—the kind that can only be called “the peace of God.”
Anxiety is the natural enemy of peace. But it can be erased as we release our anxieties, cares and worries upon the Lord.
4. Renew Your Mental “Atmosphere”
The fourth arena that needs our attention is the atmosphere that surrounds us, capturing our mental state. The devil loves to fill our minds with garbage. Through what we see and hear in the media, through the books we read and the people we meet, through all the noise of daily life in our culture, he seeks to contaminate our thinking until we truly cannot think straight. The nonstop flood of images and ideas and sounds coming our way through everything from huge movie screens to tiny earphones can destroy our peace if we let it.
Philippians 4:8–9 boldly advises, “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—
if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things … and the God of peace will be with you.”
Whatever is true … we need to live in reality. The fantasy world, from romantic novels to video games, doesn't exist. The more we try to hide in those daydreams, the more unsettled we will be when the lights turn off and we have to return to the real world.
Whatever is noble … the word means “worthy of respect.” God doesn't want us wallowing in things that are cheap, vulgar, or low-class. They rob us of his peace.
Whatever is right … yes, there is still a category called “right” in this world, and a category called “wrong.” Many people like to imagine that such terms are outdated, and everything is now relative. That's not true.
Whatever is pure … in other words, the opposite of dirty, lustful, tainted, and off-color. God doesn't want these things in our minds. They pollute our thought life and rob us of his peace.
Whatever is lovely … the opposite of ugly and grotesque. Why pay money for things, from DVDs to artwork to clothing, that are patently nasty? Such things are bound to have an effect on our thoughts.
Whatever is admirable … we all need role models to look up to. Too often in the world of entertainment and sports and even politics, we see anti-heroes—the kind of man or woman you don't want your child to emulate. Paul the apostle says to keep looking until you find those whom you can admire.
If anything is excellent or praiseworthy … in other words, don't settle for the mediocre. Don't put up with things that are “just okay.” Reach for things that set a high standard.
When we think on these things, it makes a huge difference in our mental atmosphere. We inhabit a world that is orderly and peaceful. We focus our attention on the good elements of life instead of the sleazy.
Not long ago a young woman came to me at the end of our morning service to say she was struggling as a young Christian. She was a single mom with a ten-year-old son. “Something's wrong,” she confessed. “I'm just not doing very well.”
I asked a few questions, trying to get to the bottom of her malaise. “Why do you think you're not experiencing God's peace?” I asked. “Tell me what you think might be at the root of that.”
“Well, you know,” she answered, “back when I was eighteen years old, somebody cast a spell on me….”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, and then when I was twenty-three or twenty-four, I was dating this guy. But somebody didn't like it that I was seeing him, and so they put another spell on me….”
Things started to click in my brain. “And that's what you're thinking about this much later?” I said.
“Yes, I guess so,” she admitted.
“No wonder you don't have the peace of God,” I replied. “Look, when you belong to Jesus, there is no witchcraft that will work on you. You're his property now. He doesn't tolerate outside spirits messing with his child. Instead of thinking about the occult, I want you to think about the good promises of God. Let me see the Bible you're reading….”
I discovered she had a fairly hard-to-understand translation, so I got her one she could understand more easily. I also picked out a spiritual book I thought would help her. She needed to think about true things, noble things, right things, instead of the lies of the devil. Only then would she be able to live in a state of peace.
We need to recognize the instant a thought enters our mental atmosphere that is going to pollute us. We need to tell Satan to take his garbage and get out. The prophet Isaiah had it exactly right when he wrote, “You [God] will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you” (Isa. 26:3).
Personal peace is a quality of the Promised Land that God is bringing us into. It is part of the greater blessing he intends for our lives. He cannot stand the thought of us succumbing to accusations, animosities, anxieties, and a bad mental atmosphere. He is calling us to something higher—a life infused with the supernatural peace of God. We must arise and receive this wonderful provision from his hand.