Peace
- Rev. David Collins
- Sep 21
- 10 min read
Stay Close, Week Two
Matthew 5:9
Matthew 10:34-35
James 3:17-18
Romans 12:9-21
Sept. 21, 2025
Rev. David Collins
Today we’re talking about peace. The fruit of the Spirit that sounds beautiful… and feels, if we’re honest, pretty out of reach right now.
Because I don’t know about you, but I’m not feeling very peaceful. I’m worried and anxious. I’m constantly checking my phone to see if something new and worse has happened. Or if someone I know has said something to make things worse.
Constant vigilance? Sure. But not a whole lot of peace.
And my attempts to get peace are a lot more like Frank Constanza’s attempts on Seinfeld back in the day. Remember him? Jerry Stiller played him. He read that what you need to do was pray for serenity now, but it always came out as SERENITY NOOOOWWWWW!!!!
But Frank found, and so have I, that it just doesn’t work like that. Peace isn’t something you just claim. It’s not something you wish for.
Peace is something you make.
In Matthew 5:9, Jesus said, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.”
And I’d like for us to unpack that today.
What does it mean to be a peace-maker?
Peace-Fakers and Peace-Breakers
We already know how to be peace-fakers. That comes easy, right? We know how to keep our heads down. We know how to smile and say we’re fine when we’re not. We know how to bite our tongues at the table or nod politely when someone says something that makes our skin crawl. Whatever you do…don’t upset Gramma!
Peace-faking is being nice above all. “Let’s not talk about that,” even when we really should. Peace-faking is avoidance… skipping the hard conversations, or skipping the gathering altogether.
Peace-faking is appeasement, when we give in just to keep someone else calm, even when it makes us feel sick to our stomach.
If peace-faking is one temptation, peace-breaking is the other.
And that one’s everywhere. Outrage is like currency in our culture. Contempt is how we score points. We dunk on people online like it’s a sport. And if that phrase is new to you…dunking is when you publicly shame or mock someone, usually with a clever comeback or a screenshot that makes them look like a fool, which they might be, but that’s beside the point. It’s not about just disagreeing. It’s about embarrassing them, and getting the crowd on your side.
And while it does feel good to be right, and get the last word. It has consequences for our relationships and our spirits.
We might tell ourselves it’s prophetic and that we’re speaking truth to power, but it’s more about winning and making another person feel small, than anything else. And it just gives us one more reason not to talk to each other again.
Peace-faking is like the sin of hiding. Peace-breaking is like the sin of arrogance. Both are the kinds of sin that don’t feel like sin at the time. But they are. And when they’re in the drivers seat, not only does it corrode your soul, it doesn’t make peace.
So what is Jesus talking about when he blesses peacemakers?
Shalom Vs. Irene
The word for peace he uses in Matthew 5 is rooted in the Greek word eirēnē. But let’s just called it Irene, because that’s the way we pronounce it, and you can tell your friend Irene that her name means peace.
That’s the same word Paul uses when he lists peace as a fruit of the Spirit. Irene is the New Testament’s word for peace, and it shows up all over the place…especially in greetings. “Grace and peace to you.” “Go in peace.” It was something you said at the start of a letter or the end of a visit. Like Aloha… “hello” and “goodbye” all in one.
It’s a beautiful word. But it wasn’t always loaded with theological meaning. Sometimes it just meant… I hope things go well for you. I hope your life isn’t a mess. It was common, even casual. But that doesn’t make it empty.
Because when Jesus uses it, and when Paul uses it, they’re connecting it to something deeper. They’re building on the Hebrew word shalom…which is anything but casual.
Shalom is more than the absence of conflict. It’s the presence of wholeness. Of restoration. It’s when everything is in right relationship: me with you, us with God, people with the earth, creation with the Creator. That’s the kind of peace the prophets longed for. That’s the kind of peace God dreams about, and will bring about some day.
So when Jesus says, “Blessed are the peacemakers,” he’s not just talking about people who calm things down. He’s talking about people who step in… and help make things whole again.
But that’s not the only thing Jesus said about peace.
Not Peace but a Sword?
He also said,
“Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. 35 For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law, 36 and one’s foes will be members of one’s own household.” Matthew 10:34-35,
And that’s not just a preview of Thanksgiving!
So what do we do with that? How do we make sense of it?
I don’t think Jesus is contradicting himself. I think he’s telling the truth about how peace actually works. He’s not interested in the kind of peace we fake to keep things calm. Or the kind of peace we break to win.
Jesus wants the kind of peace that takes courage to bring about. The kind that tells the truth.
Because sometimes the truth divides. Sometimes making peace means saying something that people do not want to hear. Sometimes it means breaking the silence. Disturbing the comfort. Refusing to go along with what everyone else is pretending not to see.
Jesus is not talking about bringing violence. The sword he’s talking about isn’t a literal sword and certainly not a gun. In Luke’s version, Jesus just calls it “division” (Luke 12:51)
Sometimes division is unavoidable but it doesn’t have to be hateful.
It doesn’t have to be cruel or dehumanizing. The goal isn’t to defeat the other person. The goal is to stay rooted in love, even when it means telling the truth that others don’t want to hear. Sometimes you have to disturb a false peace to make room for a real one.
But being followers of Jesus means that there is a right way to disturb fake peace…and a whole lot of wrong ways. We don’t get to just say whatever we want. We don’t get to justify harm because we think the cause is righteous. The ends do not justify the means. Not for anyone, and especially not for us.
Old-Fashioned Lawnmower
I used to have one of those old-fashioned lawn mowers. No engine. Just a cylinder of blades that spun when you pushed it. Very cool in theory. Completely useless in Florida. St. Augustine grass would eat that thing alive. Probably strip it for parts.

But I remember how it worked. That mower could cut grass, but it couldn’t handle even the tiniest twig. One little stick, and the whole thing jammed up. It was so frustrating.
And yet… I think that’s how our words should be.
When I see Christians say things that cut other people down (especially when I catch myself doing it) I think of that mower. I think maybe our mouths should jam up when we try to say something that wounds. Something cruel or careless. Maybe the Spirit in us should stop the whole thing cold.
What if our words only had the power to cut through what needs cutting? Through lies. Through fear. Through injustice. But nothing else. Nothing that would tear someone down just to make a point.
That’s what the Spirit wants to do in us. That’s the fruit we’re meant to grow. That’s what Jesus modeled, over and over again. He didn’t speak to win. He spoke to heal. He didn’t cut people down. He cut through the noise. And when he often disturbed the peace, it was always for the sake of something deeper.
And if anyone knew what that looked like close-up, it was James…Jesus’ half-brother.
James and the Tongue
James saw how Jesus used his words. He saw how he lived. And he saw him die and rise again. And in his letter, James picks up that same thread. In chapter 3, he talks about the tongue… how dangerous it can be… how hard it is to control. He compares it to a fire, and a rudder on a ship. He says, in essence, your words steer your whole life. They can bless or curse. Heal or destroy. They should be able to cut grass but not sticks.
James doesn’t just leave it at what not to say. He moves on to what peacemaking really looks like.
James 3:17: “The wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy.”
This is what we aim for. Not perfect or polished. But
Pure. That means you’re not coming in with some hidden agenda. You’re not trying to win. You’re trying to be true.
Peaceable. You’re not stirring things up just to feel powerful. You’re not poking the bear because it feels good to be angry. You’re stepping in with the goal of healing, not harm.
Gentle. That’s not soft. That’s not passive. That’s strength under control. That’s being able to tell the truth without raising your voice. That’s knowing when to speak and when to hold back.
Willing to yield. That one’s tough. It means being able to listen. To actually hear. To change your mind and say, “You might be right about that.”
Full of mercy and good fruit. That means people should leave an interaction with you feeling stronger, not smaller. They should feel less alone, not more judged. Like they’ve been treated with dignity.
And no partiality. No hypocrisy. No pretending to be something you’re not. Or to know something you don’t. Just showing up honest and interested.
18 And the fruit of righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace.
Not in anger. Not in fear. Not in the noise of being right.
It is sown in peace. And only by those who are actually willing to make peace.
It’s farming language. Which means it’s not flashy. It’s not immediate. You don’t plant a seed and see fruit the next day.
You show up. You dig into the dirt. You plant what’s needed. And then you wait. You tend and trust. Some days, it looks like nothing’s happening. Some days, it feels like the ground is too dry. Or the weeds are too thick. Or you’re the only one out there in the field.
But peace doesn’t grow by accident. It’s sown.
If you’re wondering what this kind of peacemaking actually looks like… Paul gives us a pretty comprehensive picture in Romans 12. I won’t add a lot of commentary here. I just want us to hear it and let it work on us.
Romans 12:9–21
9 Let love be genuine; hate what is evil;
hold fast to what is good;
10 love one another with mutual affection;
outdo one another in showing honor.
11 Do not lag in zeal; be ardent in spirit; serve the Lord.
12 Rejoice in hope;
be patient in affliction;
persevere in prayer.
13 Contribute to the needs of the saints;
pursue hospitality to strangers.
14 Bless those who persecute you;
bless and do not curse them.
15 Rejoice with those who rejoice;
weep with those who weep.
16 Live in harmony with one another;
do not be arrogant, but associate with the lowly;
do not claim to be wiser than you are.
17 Do not repay anyone evil for evil,
but take thought for what is noble in the sight of all.
18 If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.
19 Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave room for the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is mine; I will repay, says the Lord.” 20 Instead, “if your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink, for by doing this you will heap burning coals on their heads.”
21 Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.
Living It Out
So what does this look like this week?
Because peacemaking isn’t abstract. It’s not just something we believe. It’s something we do. And right now, it matters more than ever.
First, for those of us who identify as progressive or left-leaning, part of our calling this week is to help our conservative neighbors not hate us.
We don’t have to agree on anything. We don’t have to stop telling the truth as we see it. But the health and future of our society depends on some baseline level of mutual respect. If we give up on that, we don’t just lose elections…we might lose our democracy.
And that starts with how we carry ourselves today during and after Charlie Kirk’s funeral.
No matter what you think about the man, decent people do not disrupt funerals, or mock mourners. We cannot dehumanize those we disagree with. We cannot treat ideology or even morality like it cancels someone’s humanity.
We are all sinners, saved by grace.
We oppose injustice. And we must speak up when harmful ideas take hold.
But we do it without cruelty or contempt. And when people on “our side” forget that, we correct them too.
Because peacemaking means knowing when to speak, and knowing when to shut up and show respect. This is basic stuff. But in a world this angry, basic decency is more radical than it sounds.
Jesus said, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.”
That’s not just an item on our todo list. It’s a reminder of who we are.
When we make peace…we show the family resemblance. We look like our Father. We look like Jesus. We look like people who belong to each other.
And that witness matters.
Because the world doesn’t need more cleverness. It doesn’t need more winning. It needs people who know how to stay close. People who know how to stay kind. People who carry peace with them, even when the ground is shaking.
So let’s be those people.
Let’s be children of God, not just in name, but in the way we speak. In the way we listen. In the way we walk through this week.
And may the peace we plant… grow.


