Peace
Scott Eastveld

Last week we lit the Candle of Hope, remembering that in Jesus, God steps into our darkness and whispers, “I am with you.”
Today, we light the second candle—the Candle of Peace.
And we remember that the One who is with us is not only our comforter or companion…
He is the very Prince of Peace.

My prayer is simple: that through these words, the peace of God might settle a little deeper into your heart and mind. Life is full of unexpected turns—a conversation that wounds, a diagnosis we did not see coming, a headline that steals our breath. Our world hums with anxiety. Our feeds drip with conflict. We are a people starved for peace.

And so Advent invites us to slow down, to light a candle, to stare into its glow for just a moment—and recognize that the Prince of Peace has come to us. He is truly with us.

Back Into the Storm

If you joined us last week, you’ll remember the story—a family preparing for bed on a stormy night. A little girl steps into the hallway just as the power goes out. Darkness swallows everything. She cries out for her father.

This week, we return to that moment—not the moment of terror, but the moment after her father arrives.
The storm is still raging. Wind still pounds the siding. Thunder still rattles the glass.
But she is no longer alone.

Her father kneels beside her, his candle casting warm light across the walls. He wraps his arms around her. The storm hasn’t stopped—but something in her has. Her heartbeat slows. Her breathing steadies. Her tears begin to dry.

She whispers, “I’m still scared…but I’m not alone.”
Then—after a pause—
“I’m still scared…but I’m at peace.”

This is another miracle of Advent:
Hope in the darkness. Peace in the storm.

The Prince of Peace Who Comes to Us

Centuries before Bethlehem, Isaiah spoke of a child who would usher in God’s peace:

“He will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”
—Isaiah 9:6

Peace—shalom—in Scripture means far more than serenity.
It means wholeness, restoration, harmony, rightness with God and one another.
Not passive calm, but active renewal—God setting all things right.

And Isaiah says that this peace would come not through power or politics, but through a child.
The surprising, humble way of God.

Matthew identifies that child as Jesus—Immanuel, God with us.
If He is with us, then peace is no longer a concept.
Peace has a name. A face. A presence.

Peace That Comes to Us in the Dark

Isaiah also writes:

“The people walking in darkness have seen a great light.”
—Isaiah 9:2

Notice that God does not tell the people to run to the light.
The light comes to them.

Like a father walking up the stairs with a candle.

Peace is not something we produce.
Peace is Someone who comes to us.

The angels declared this over the shepherds:

“On earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”
—Luke 2:14

Peace arrived in a Person.
Not God above us.
Not God watching us.
God with us.

What Kind of Peace Does Jesus Give?

Jesus promised His disciples:

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you…
Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”

—John 14:27

The peace Jesus gives is not the world’s peace—fragile, temporary, dependent on circumstances.
Jesus gives His peace.

And what kind of peace does Jesus have?
Mark 4 shows us:
The peace that sleeps in a storm.

When the disciples panic, Jesus wakes, speaks three words—
“Peace. Be still.”
And both the waves and their hearts begin to settle.

Jesus speaks peace into chaos.
He knows where the story is going.
He knows they will reach the other side.

Peace That Guards Our Hearts

Paul writes:

“The peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”
—Philippians 4:7

God’s peace is not logical.
It is not earned.
It is not the absence of trouble.
It is the presence of Christ.

It sets up a guard around your heart—a holy defense against fear.
And it transcends understanding.
It often makes no sense to the watching world.

I’ve seen that peace in hospital rooms, at gravesides, in moments of loss.
I’ve lived that peace in my own story.
It is not denial—it is anchoring.
It is the Prince of Peace holding us steady when everything else shakes.

The Peace Who Became Flesh

Because God did not shout peace from heaven.
He came down.

“The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.”
—John 1:14

He pitched His tent in the middle of our chaos.
The child in the manger would become the Lamb on the cross—
to make peace between God and humanity.

Paul says:

“…through him to reconcile to himself all things…by making peace through his blood…”
—Colossians 1:20

Peace That Floods the World Through Us

The peace Jesus gives is not meant to stop with us.
Every act of mercy, forgiveness, justice, reconciliation, compassion—
these are small eruptions of His kingdom.
The peace born in Bethlehem moves outward through His people.

We receive peace.
We live peace.
We bring peace.

Peace for Today. Peace for Forever.

Revelation gives us the promise of ultimate peace:

“God’s dwelling place is now among the people…
He will wipe every tear…
There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain…”

—Revelation 21:3–4

The Prince of Peace who came
is the Prince of Peace who will come again.

Peace has come.
Peace is coming.

You Are Not Alone

So what does this mean today?

It means that whatever storm you face—
whatever fear, whatever ache, whatever uncertainty—
you do not stand in the hallway alone.

Jesus, the Prince of Peace, stands beside you.
He holds you.
He speaks over you—

“Peace. Be still.”

Your peace has a name.
Your peace has come near.

Immanuel.
God with us.
Jesus—the Prince of Peace.