Bringing Peace (Is. 11:1-10, Matt. 1:18-24, )
Bringing Peace
December 7, 2025
Isaiah 11:1-10, Matthew 1:18-24
By: John Gribas
My eldest son Adam can be a serious worrier. He was born in 1992 on Christmas day. For my wife, Lana, and for me, that was a very memorable gift. But despite sharing a birthday with “the prince of peace,” Adam has always been prone to see the glass half empty. To see perhaps a little too keenly and vividly the world’s dangers and threats and darkness and discord.
I remember one time when Adam was about five. He was caught up in some unsettling concern, fretting, wrapped up in worry and frustration and fear. He seemed to be spiraling a bit. So I did what I though a good parent should do in such a circumstance. I got down on my knees so I could look at him face-to-face. Pulling him close to reassure and console. And I said to him, softly, gently…
“Adam. Adam. Hey buddy… Peace.”
Adam stopped his ranting, looked directly at me for a moment, blinked a couple of times, and then said…
“Peace! (Hmph!!) Who thought of that?!”
Wow. Such cynicism from such a young boy. Or was it cynicism? Maybe it was just realism. I mean, this world…sometimes it can be a lot, right? Adam’s world back then in the late 1990s, it really wasn’t that different than our world today. There is a lot to fret about.
Consider the paper headlines or your phone’s news feed. Because of the privilege and good fortune many of us enjoy, we may occasionally allow ourselves to be lulled into imagining that the natural state of things is a broad tranquility, but the truth is every era has more than its fair share of unrest. Jesus reminded his disciples of this. As recorded in the gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke, Jesus tempered his followers’ optimistic anticipation for the coming Kingdom of God by foretelling of wars and rumors of wars, nation rising against nation, famines and earthquakes, false prophets, likely persecution, love growing cold for many.
Despite all of this—maybe because of all of this—the overarching message Jesus brought and the message I bring to you today is a message of peace.
Peace. As a faith community, we yearn for it. We pray for it. We receive and experience it. There is obviously a link between peace and the life of faith…the life of the spirit. This link is strongly suggested in scripture. I did a search of the New Revised Standard Version of the bible, and the result listed 250 verses referencing “peace.”
Like my son Adam, I am someone for whom peace does not seem to come naturally. Because of this, I have specific music playlists and use my home’s Wi-Fi speakers to regularly pump peace into my ears and mind and soul. Solitude and quiet walks on one of the trails outside of town—these are also things I embrace and that help to bring a sense of peace. I do this because I love peace! I want peace!
And don’t we all? Really…don’t we all? Come on. Raise your hand if you like peace. Okay. But what, really, is “peace”? If you think about it, there are quite a few variations.
Sometimes, when we pray for peace, we mean “world peace.” We are hoping for the absence of or the end to war and other forms of large-scale conflict. We pray for peace in Ukraine. In the Middle East. Sudan. Afghanistan. Haiti.
Other times, when we pray for peace, it might be in response to a closer, more personal concern. Peace between me and my neighbor or coworker or someone I considered my friend. Peace between my parents. With or between or among my children. We long for “relational peace.”
Still other times, we pray for what we might call “inner peace.” Peace with myself—in my mind or heart or soul. I seek peace when I am internally conflicted. Because of uncertainty in facing an important decision. Because of an inability in light of distressing circumstances to believe that all will be well with me and those I love. Because of pain or failure or shame.
So when we say that we love and want peace, what do we really mean? World peace? Relational peace? Inner peace? I suppose it depends on our circumstances. Sometimes one of these in particular. Sometimes all of these.
Regardless, it seems especially right and good that we pray for peace now, in this time of Advent. This time of anticipation of the prince of peace coming into our world.
We are reminded of this in the earlier reading from Isaiah 11. If we read that passage as a foretelling of the coming of the Christ, then in Jesus’ birth we are encouraged to hope for and anticipate a peaceful existence indeed: “The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them.”
Jesus himself, so often throughout his life and ministry, reminds us that he is the prince of peace, the one who offers peace in response to our prayers. In John 14:27, Jesus says, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”
Yes, Advent seems like a very good time to hope for peace. It is right to ask for it. And we are blessed when we receive it.
But I’d like to take a moment to consider another experience we can have with peace. Something I see reflected in the reading from Matthew, and in the life of Joseph. In my recent reading and reflection on this portion of the Christmas story with Joseph and the angel, I began to see not so much an asking or a receiving…but a “bringing.” Bringing peace.
Consider Joseph. Engaged to Mary. Then discovering that Mary was with child. And he knew the child was not his. That had to be unsettling at the least, and I am sure Joseph was looking for a little peace. What kind of peace? Well…probably all of them!
To begin, Joseph had plenty of reason to hope for world peace. Yes, the Roman empire of that time did bring with it a kind of peace. Pax Romana. A period from about 27 BC to 180 AD. But, despite the name given to the period, the Romans did not think of this “peace” as an absence of conflict and war. Instead, they understood it as a unique time when all of their enemies had been beaten down so completely that they could no longer resist. It was during this sort of “peacetime” that Joseph lived, and he must have known and felt the heavy oppression of Roman occupation daily. Yes, Joseph would have good cause to pray for world peace.
What of relational peace? Well, the news of Mary’s pregnancy had to bring with it some serious tension between Joseph and his fiancé. If the news spread, it would no doubt bring even more serious relational tension between Joseph and Mary and their families and community members. Breaking off the engagement would likely have a similar result. Joseph had plenty of reason to seek some divine help for relational conflict.
For all of us, Joseph included, the simple awareness of world and relational conflict inevitably challenges our inner peace. His difficult situation had to weigh on Joseph’s mind, heart, and soul. This is suggested in verse 19 of our scripture reading from Matthew. “Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly.” Joseph’s compassion for Mary, along with his personal sense of ethics and moral compass, put him in a real bind. What should he do? What was right and good? Joseph, I think, needed some inner peace.
Based on what is included here in the first chapter of Matthew, we don’t know whether Joseph actually reached out in prayer to ask for peace. It does appear that Joseph had a plan, though. It might not resolve any world conflicts, but it might just avoid some difficult relational conflicts and perhaps calm his conflicted heart and mind a bit. The plan was “to dismiss her quietly.”
Apparently, God had other plans. In a dream, an angel of the Lord came to Joseph and shared these plans. Take Mary as his wife. Accept that the child has been conceived through the work and power of the Holy Spirit. Name him “Jesus.” Know that he comes into the world to save people from their sins.
If Joseph had been praying for peace, my guess is that he was not imagining this as the kind of response that would provide it. I’m guessing that for Joseph, and I’m guessing for most of us, the expectation for an answer to a prayer for peace is that circumstances would change. Those nations would lay down arms and establish a binding treaty. Those two people would admit their part in the hurtful situation and would ask forgiveness and offer forgiveness and hug. That weird, uncomfortable feeling in my stomach would vanish and I would feel settled and sure and…at peace.
But the angel’s message to Joseph didn’t promise a change of circumstances. Instead, it offered a new understanding of Joseph’s circumstances. And it asked for a response.
And, as we learn in verse 24, “When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife.”
That is all fine and good. But John, you might be thinking, you said you were bringing a message of peace. This sounds like a message of obedience.
Yes, I agree. It does. But stick with me, because I think, at least in this case, they are one and the same.
As I said earlier, we really don’t know if Joseph prayed for peace—prayed for a divine change to circumstances impacting the world or his relationships or his inner turmoil. But we do know that Joseph’s acceptance and obedience in response to the angel’s message did things. Peace things.
I hope it brought peace to Joseph’s conflicted mind and heart. He was in a kind of “no win” situation, trying to figure out how to deal with Mary’s suspicious pregnancy without disgracing her and her family while maintaining his own integrity. The angel’s message, I think, settled things for Joseph.
I have to believe it brought peace to Mary who, despite her own angelic visitation, must have been aware of the likely consequences if Joseph exposed and rejected her. And though their community remained unaware, Joseph’s obedience avoided scandal and unrest and kept the peace for all of them.
What of the larger world? Though there was no obvious, tangible, immediate effect, I think we can all agree that Joseph’s actions were essential to the whole nativity narrative. The narrative that ushered in the prince of peace and, thinking back again to that passage from Isaiah, the hope and promise of this world as a peaceable kingdom.
I even think about the likelihood that Joseph “brought” peace to the little prince of peace himself. I mean, yes, Jesus came as the incarnation of the divine. “God from God, light from light, very God from very God,” as the Nicene creed suggests. But he came…as a baby.
And babies sometimes need some peace. They get hungry. They get cold. They need a diaper changed. They just want to be held and cuddled. And parents bring that.
Maybe it is just a fatherhood connection with the character of Joseph. Maybe it is because I can relate to becoming a father on Christmas. But I kind of like the thought that sometime during one evening in that chilly stable in Bethlehem, Joseph heard the cries of an infant in need, and he leaned over that manger, laid a warm hand on the little one, got very close to reassure and console, and said softly and gently…
“Jesus. Jesus. Hey buddy… Peace.”
Joseph listened and responded…and brought peace.
Archbishop Oscar Romero was an important advocate for human rights in El Salvador. You might recall that Mike referenced him in a sermon not long ago. Romero’s life—which ended in martyrdom—demonstrated peace as an active commitment to the wellbeing of the world, and he made a point of distinguishing this kind of peace from simply the absence of conflict. Romero defined peace as “the generous, tranquil contribution of all to the good of all."
I hope we all pray for peace. I hope that each one of us, at least in some small way, sees an answer to those prayers. And I hope most of all that we—like Oscar Romero, like Joseph, and like the prince of peace himself—are open to the voice of God and willing to respond to that voice. Willing to be the answer to the world’s cries for peace.
As we recognize the need for peace this Advent season…let’s bring it.
Amen.