Advent Musing: PEACE

Image by Soojin Hyun

Scripture: Isaiah 11:1-10, NRSV

A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots. The spirit of the LORD shall rest on him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the LORD.

His delight shall be in the fear of the LORD. He shall not judge by what his eyes see or decide by what his ears hear, but with righteousness he shall judge for the poor and decide with equity for the oppressed of the earth; he shall strike the earth with the rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips he shall kill the wicked.

Righteousness shall be the belt around his waist and faithfulness the belt around his loins. 

The wolf shall live with the lamb; the leopard shall lie down with the kid; the calf and the lion will feed together, and a little child shall lead them. The cow and the bear shall graze; their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder's den.

They will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain, for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the LORD as the waters cover the sea. On that day the root of Jesse shall stand as a signal to the peoples; the nations shall inquire of him, and his dwelling shall be glorious.

Advent Musing: Peace

by Rev. Sungrae Kim

Peace is the ultimate goal of life. It is what we desire each and every day, what we wish for one another, and what we hope for the world. Across many cultures and religions, we find greetings rooted in the hope for peace.

In Judaism, shalom (שָׁלוֹם) means peace, wholeness, harmony, and completeness, and is used for both hello and goodbye. When Muslims say As-salāmu ʿalaykum (السلام عليكم), meaning “Peace be upon you,” it is not merely a greeting but also a prayer and blessing. In Hindu culture, Namaste (नमस्ते) means “The divine in me honors the divine in you.” While not explicitly “peace,” it conveys harmony, mutual respect, and spiritual well-being.

In East Asian cultures, peace also lies at the heart of how people greet one another and understand life. When Koreans say Annyeonghaseyo (안녕하세요), meaning hello, the literal meaning is “Are you at peace?” Annyeong (安寧) signifies peace, tranquility, or safety. The most common modern Chinese greeting, Nǐ hǎo (你好), means “Are you well?” but a more traditional greeting conveyed peace, safety, or stability through the word píng’ān (平安). In Japan, everyday greetings do not explicitly express “peace,” yet wishing for safety (無事) is common, and peace-related terms (安寧, 平安) are widely recognized in formal or religious settings. Across East Asian cultures and religions, the defining character of peace is harmony (和). We are at peace when all things under heaven are in harmony—an ultimate goal of life, especially in Neo-Confucian thought.

Christians, too, intentionally speak peace many times in our worship. At the beginning of the service, we greet one another with the peace of Christ. Before my sermon, I often say, “God’s grace and peace be with you.” At the end of each service, I offer the benediction by saying, “You may go in peace knowing that God is always with you.” Our final sending forth song is “Shalom to You Now.” “Peace be with you” were the first words the risen Jesus said to his disciples, and we continue sharing them as a reminder of our calling to be peacemakers.

Yet peace is something we can hardly find in the world we live in. Especially this year, many of us have felt heavy-hearted as we witnessed too many armed conflicts around the globe. Experts estimate around 60 active state-based conflicts worldwide as of 2024–2025, the highest level since World War II.* Beyond the well-known Russia–Ukraine war and the Israel–Hamas war, there have been so many civil wars, insurgencies, border disputes, and ethnic violences continued or escalated this year.

Here in this country, we witnessed devastating events as well: the destructive fire in Los Angeles earlier this year, a mass shooting and arson at a church in Michigan, and the assassination of Charlie Kirk. In California, we recently heard about the mass shooting at a child’s birthday party in Stockton, where four young lives were taken and eleven were wounded. We saw far too many examples of how ideological and political polarization fuels violence—some attacks motivated by hatred, extremism, or political or religious animosity. No, it has not been a peaceful year in this land. We carry these stories into our Advent season. Peace is what we desperately hope for daily, and yet it feels painfully distant.

Therefore, the vision of peace depicted in Isaiah 11 can seem unrealistic, unachievable, and perhaps even irrelevant:

“The wolf shall live with the lamb; the leopard shall lie down with the kid; the calf and the lion will feed together, and a little child shall lead them. The cow and the bear shall graze; their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder's den. They will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain, for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the LORD as the waters cover the sea.”

In our world, the strong still devour the weak, the powerful still harm the vulnerable, and the dominant still oppress the subservient. Wolves and leopards would never find peace with lambs, and no parent would allow a child near an asp or an adder. It is a cruel and dangerous world, and “survival of the fittest” still seems to be the law of nature. Our human world is not so different. Sometimes we become a wolf, sometimes we become a lamb. No matter what, the prevailing wisdom is the same: we must be strong, powerful, and dominant—do whatever it takes to survive.

Yet the first Christians believed Jesus embodied and fulfilled this ancient vision of peace. The world Jesus was born into was not so different from ours—if not worse. The Roman Empire promoted the political slogan of Pax Romana, “Roman peace,” achieved through overwhelming military force. In every corner of the empire, they built statues, inscriptions, and temples to proclaim it. In reality, on the contrary, the people of Israel knew no peace as they faced heavy taxation, brutal punishment, and systematic oppression.

In that context, Jesus unpacked Isaiah’s vision in his teachings. Rejecting the common moral principle of his time—“an eye for an eye”—he commanded his followers, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matthew 5:44). He taught that choosing love over revenge is the only way to break the cycle of endless violence.

And choosing love and peace was not about being weak, passive, or submissive; it was about living the life of the blessed. In his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus said, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God” (Matthew 5:9). In a sense, he acknowledged that making shalom is extremely difficult work—and precisely why it is the work of God’s children. Against the Roman Empire’s way of peace, he reintroduced Isiah’s vision of peace in his own way: those who actively create harmony and mend broken relationships between the Creator and humanity are truly blessed—not those who claim to bring peace through dominance, coercion, or violence.

Again, Isaiah’s prophecy is not a prediction but a vocation. A common misunderstanding of biblical prophecy is to expect it to become reality someday, somehow. I would suggest that a better modern understanding is that prophecy is a “reimagined reality based on the Word of God.” In reality, we will never be able to see a wolf living peacefully with a lamb. But this vision reminds us of our innate power and freedom to choose: against all odds, we can still choose peace and become messengers of peace in a cruel world. It calls us to live out our identity as God’s children who bring shalom—peace, wholeness, and completeness through reconciliation—on earth.

Just as hope is not wishful thinking but a daily practice, peace is not something we selfishly wish for regardless of what is happening around us. Peace is something we are invited to build—for ourselves, for one another, and for the world. Beginning with my relationship with the Creator, extending to those closest to me, and even reaching toward those with profoundly different political or religious views—“the enemies”—we are meant to be agents of peace.

As we enter into this second week of Advent, let us find ways for peace. In our spiritual life, in our personal relationships with others, and even with our worst “enemies,” can there be steps we could take to mend broken relationships and bring healing and reconciliation? Writing a Christmas card to someone you never liked, visiting a homebound senior, or donating to an organization working for peace in a war-torn country could be welcomed as a “Christmas miracle.” No matter how impossible it seems, may we be unafraid to speak of peace—the peace Jesus proclaimed, lived, and gave his life for.

* Resource: See Uppsala Conflict Data Program, Department of Peace and Conflict Research at Uppsala University, which is the oldest research university in Sweden. (https://ucdp.uu.se/)

Reflection Questions:

• What event or events this year disturbed your inner peace the most? Why were they especially unsettling for you? Where could you witness small signs of peace - within yourself, your family, or in the world despite the chaos around us?

  
  

• Do you agree that peace is a universal, ultimate longing of human life? If so, why do you think it remains so difficult to achieve even though we all desire it?

  
  

• How do you understand the vision of peace in Isaiah 11? In what ways does this “reimagined reality” invite or inspire you personally?

  
  

• Is there a concrete step you could take to mend a strained relationship or help bring healing to someone who is hurting? What would practicing hope look like for you this week?

Song of Reflection: The Peacemaker's Prayer

Words by Iris A. Law

Music by Rev. Sungrae Kim