The Costly Gift of Peace

“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given … and his name shall be called … Prince of Peace.” Isaiah 9:6 

During Advent, peace often feels like a spiritual cliché, something vague we associate with Christmas carols and the absence of conflict. This misses its deeper biblical meaning entirely.

True biblical peace, shalom, means wholeness, the mending of what’s been broken. It’s not a mood but a restoration.

But that peace has always come at a cost. In the Old Testament, God’s peace offerings required blood; the life of an animal was necessary to restore relationship with Him. But the peace wasn’t permanent. And every sacrifice whispered that lasting peace would come only through a better sacrifice.

Isaiah prophesied that someday One would come who would embody peace itself: a Prince of Peace.

That Prince arrived in Roman-occupied territory, born far from home to a vulnerable mother, and soon had to flee as a refugee baby from Herod’s murderous rage.

There was nothing peaceful in that scene. But it was the beginning of the better sacrifice.

This year, one moment completely shifted my understanding of peace: I was diagnosed with heart failure and a dangerous clot in my ventricle that could kill me. The next day, I lay on a hospital bed, paralyzed by fear and anxiety, undergoing a long cardiac procedure. Amid the noise of medical monitors, I heard the quiet voice of the Prince of Peace say, “My peace I give to you.”

I didn’t summon it or deserve it. It was simply given. Tangible. Real. Holy. Life changing.

At that moment I realized that peace is not a mood or the absence of conflict; it’s something that can be given and held onto. I could never have made that moment happen in my own power. Jesus gave me peace as a gift.

From Bethlehem’s manger to Calvary’s cross, peace was costly. Jesus bought it for us through His life, death, and resurrection. And because He purchased it, He can give it to you and me.

This Advent, understand that peace isn’t a feeling you achieve; it’s the gift of restored wholeness. Jesus doesn’t promise escape from the hard places. Let Him offer you His peace in the middle of them.

Prayer: Prince of Peace, I receive Your costly gift of peace this season. I am grateful that You paid the price, a price I could never pay myself. Teach me to rest in the gift You’ve given. Help me to give this peace to others I encounter in this season. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Want More?

Read Ephesians 2:14–17. Christ didn’t just give peace; He became it, tearing down “the dividing wall of hostility,” reconciling enemies to God and each other. Where is He offering you this costly peace right now: vertically (with God), horizontally (with others), or internally (with yourself)? What would it look like to receive rather than manufacture peace in that place?