The Gifts of AdventNäide

Today, we’re focusing on a word that sits at the very center of the Christmas story: peace. But interestingly, our passage for today doesn’t come from the Gospels—not from the manger, the shepherds, or the angels. It comes from the Old Testament, from the prophet Isaiah, who looked ahead and foretold the coming of Jesus. He told us how he would come and what kind of world his coming could create.

Isaiah writes:

“For a child is born to us, a son is given to us. The government will rest on his shoulders. And he will be called: Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. His government and His peace will never end.” (Isaiah 9:6–7a NLT)

We can’t talk about the peace Jesus brought without remembering Isaiah’s promise—written seven hundred years before that first Christmas night.

When we think of peace, we often imagine it as the opposite of power. But I want us to see it differently this Advent: peace isn’t the absence of power; it’s part of what makes power whole.

No one embodied that truth better than Jesus. In his birth and in his life, he showed us that peace and power are never at odds—they work together perfectly in him.

At his birth, he could have arrived like a mighty storm, a roaring fire, or a fierce wind. But instead—as one lyric points out—He came like a winter snow: quiet, soft, and slow. God didn’t send a warrior or a ruler. He sent a baby—fragile, dependent, fully surrendered to his mother’s care. And still, there was power in that peace.

Then, at the end of his life, the night before he is crucified, Jesus tells his disciples these words:

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.” (John 14:27 NIV)

He entered this world bringing peace into chaos—and he left it the same way. Even in the shadow of the cross is his promise of peace.

So, what does that mean for us today?

It means this: He left you his peace.

His peace isn’t just for the saints or the spiritually elite—it’s for the broken, the weary, the overwhelmed. His peace is found in his perfect presence, and that presence is available right now.

Let’s take some time and invite his peace into the places of our lives that feel out of control. Let’s begin to move toward him again, not away from him. Let’s take a holy pause today—sit quietly in his presence and be still.

No talking.
No planning.
No scheduling.
No worry.
No fear.
No anxiety.

Simply receive the peace that is found in the presence of Jesus.

And then, as Paul wrote in one of his letters to people like you and me: “Let the peace that comes from Christ rule in your hearts.”(Colossians 3:15 NLT)

We are called to live in peace; Jesus left us that gift—but it’s our responsibility to make space for it.

You see, at the time of Isaiah’s prophecy, Advent was a season of waiting—of longing for the Savior to come. But now, on this side of his birth, death, and resurrection, Advent becomes a season of remembering:

• Remembering how he came.

• Remembering how he taught us to live.

• Remembering the gifts he left us in his absence.

Today, we remember the gift of peace.

To Close
To have peace in our own hearts, we must also seek peace in our families, our communities, our social media feeds, and yes—even with our enemies.

Think of peace as both a gift and a calling.

As a noun, it’s something you can receive.

As an adjective, it’s something you give away. People experience peace when they are with you.

That’s what I want to pray for: that we would receive his peace, and that we would be quick to give it away.

Let’s Pray

Jesus,

You are our Prince of Peace. Quiet our hearts today and fill us with your presence. Help us live as people who not only receive peace but share it everywhere we go. Make us still, make us kind, and make us peaceful—for your glory always, and to point others to the gift of peace that can only be found in you. We love you. Thank you for loving us!

Amen.