Restoring the Boundaries
Brief Thoughts on Peacemaking in a Messy World
Here's a truism: the world is a mess—an insufferable mess, actually. We may be tempted to think that the “mess” is unique to our times. But it’s not. In fact, the world has been this way for a long time. Take the Greco-Roman era, for instance. These were not always times of deep stability. There were plenty of wars and rumors of wars back then just as is true today. And it was in that messy world where our Lord taught his disciples how to live in the middle of it all.
In his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus says, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God” (Matt 5:9 NRSV). It’s obvious why Jesus would feel the need to tell first-century Jews and Gentiles to be peacemakers. Why? Because they lived in a world that lacked it.
But what is “peace”? When we westerners think of “peace,” we often take it to mean the absence of conflicts, trials, and anxieties. That’s true, but Jesus has something bigger in mind. It’s the concept of shalom. It means more than simply the absence of something negative, but also the presence of something good—wholeness, abundance, blessing. Jesus, then, is saying that his people should be peacemakers in the sense of enriching the lives of others, offering them the joy of heaven so that their cup overflows.
But there’s something else going on, something deeply profound that we can’t afford to miss. Notice, for instance, how the specific blessing that peacemakers will enjoy is that they will be known as “children of God.” Why? Peacemakers resemble God. That’s what children do; they mimic their parents. Consider what Paul says to the Ephesians: “be imitators of God, as beloved children” (Eph 5:1 NRSV). What sorts of things does God, our Father, do? He brings peace—wholeness and beauty to the world.
This reminds me of the first creation story in Genesis. After God finished his work, he said everything was “very good” (Genesis 1:31). This word “good” connotes the idea of something “beautiful” (tov in Hebrew; kalos in the LXX/Greek Old Testament). God makes beautiful things, things that are good and orderly so that our world might thrive. In Genesis, he gave boundaries to the watery abyss (Gen 1:6-8); he let life spring from the ground (v. 12). And it was very good.
But then everything went south. The world chose to rebel, unraveling itself into decadence and confusion, the portrait of which we see clearly in the Flood narrative. There the waters breached the boundaries God had originally set (Gen 7).
Fast forward many years later, and we see how the early Christians spoke of God sending his Son into the world to set it right again—to make it whole again, to restore it, to give it peace. There’s a scene in Mark’s Gospel that captures Jesus’ ministry of restoring creation: When the waters raged against the disciples’ boat, the Messiah powerfully quieted the waters into peaceful submission (Mark 4:35-41). Here Jesus echoes the Genesis story; he’s silencing the waters—taming the abyss, subduing the chaos.
I can’t help but imagine how this could be a picture of our era, too. Here we are, after all, in a boat tossed by the raging waters of 21st century chaos. The political situation alone is such that Christians find themselves longing for home. There are fights and arguments; there is hatred and harshness. The world is truly a mess.
And it’s in this very moment that we should ask ourselves: Who are we, and what are we called to do? The answer to that question is clear: We are children of God. As such, we are called to participate in the ministry of our Lord by embodying peace—wholeness, blessing—to a world that desperately needs it. As those who have experienced God’s shalom in Christ, how can we not share it with others? How can we not be peacemakers?
But let’s not be naive.
Not everyone is interested in peace, for not everyone is interested in repentance. Before God’s shalom can be accepted, one must admit their own contribution to the chaos. Before they can pick up the peace of God, they must first let go of the heavy luggage they carry with them. There’s no other way. To embrace God is to say no to, and let go of, the burden of our pride.
This brings us to an important truth. It’s impossible to be at peace with someone who refuses to embrace peace. To attempt peace with the unpeaceful is to subvert God’s design for human flourishing and meaningful relationships built around truth. That’s why in some situations it’s sometimes necessary to love people from a distance. Toxic relationships are not good for anybody. To allow someone to keep hurting us is obviously not good for us, but it’s also not good for them. All this does is give them space to practice evil, which over time forms and shapes them into calloused people. This leads them to a seared conscience, into a darkened abyss that is not easy to escape. That’s why I say sometimes it's best to part ways with some people—to give them space for reflection and repentance. This doesn’t mean we stop loving them. Far from it. We can still love them—even if it’s from a distance. Remember, boundaries are a good thing.
They can also prove to be a powerful testimony. To walk away from a toxic relationship, after all, is to bear witness to the fact that we will not permit our peace to be conquered. It’s to align ourselves with the God who, in the end, will not allow hell to veto heaven (to steal a line from Lewis). In doing so, we can rest in the mercies of God through prayer. We should always be praying that the wayward would come home and that they would see a loving Father waiting for them with outstretched arms. He is not merely waiting for them; he longs for them to return.
If we have an uncompromising commitment to peace, we can actually be a beacon of hope to those who are drowning in their own abyss. Perhaps they will see us live in the abundance, in the shalom, that God has for us, and maybe they will decide to participate in the freedom they see us enjoying each and every day. Don’t forget that your commitment to shalom may, in the end, prove to be contagious. That is our hope. The mess is real, but let us dare to believe that peace is even more so.
Let me share one more thing. Living in God’s peace doesn’t mean we will be rescued out of trials, but his peace will get us through them. Jesus says, “I have said this to you, so that in me you may have peace. In the world you face persecution. But take courage; I have conquered the world!” (John 16:33 NRSV)
We can’t forget that the path toward Easter is always through the crucible of Good Friday. It’s not easy. This world will give us many tears. But God gives us the final victory. Rest assured that, one day, all will be well.
The mess will be swept away.
Beauty will be restored.
Tears will be no more.
In the meantime, let’s put our hands to the plow and get to work, for we are children of God. And as children, we are imitators of the God who knows how to make a beautiful and very good world.
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace: where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is discord, union; where there is error, truth; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy. O divine Master, grant that I may seek not so much to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand, to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive, it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen. (BCP 2019)
You can listen to this article on my podcast, episode #95 below. The Bible (Unmuted) is available on all podcast platforms, including: Apple and Spotify.