Sun Kwak, “The Peace of God” (Christmas 2025/26)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yhwak-qHeGE

TEXT: Philippians 4:4-13

[4] Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice. [5] Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; [6] do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. [7] And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

[8] Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. [9] What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me—practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you.

[10] I rejoiced in the Lord greatly that now at length you have revived your concern for me. You were indeed concerned for me, but you had no opportunity. [11] Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned, in whatever situation I am, to be content. [12] I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. [13] I can do all things through him who strengthens me.

SERMON: “The Peace of God”

Back in the late 2000’s, there was this ad that ran for the span of a few years. And it featured Justin Long, who represented the Mac, and John Hodgman, who represented the PC. And the ad begins with them introducing themselves — Hello, I’m a Mac, and I’m a PC. But then, John Hodgman, playing the PC, starts sneezing. Justin Long, playing the Mac, offers him a handkerchief and asks him if he’s doing okay. To which Hodgman replies — Oh no, I have that virus that’s going around. In fact, you want to stay back, this one’s a doozy. But Long reassures him — It’s fine, I’ll be okay. And then, Hodgman tells him — Oh no, you don’t want to be a hero. Last year, there were 114,000 known viruses for PC’s. And Long replied — For PC’s, not for Mac’s. After which Hodgman falls backward, crashing — all pun intended. And this isn’t to make any controversial statement about PC v. Mac or Android v. Apple. But for those years, whenever my Sony Vaio gave me that blue screen, I thought of that ad. And it was apparently effective, because I eventually went Mac and Apple for all my devices, and since then I’ve never gone back.

And what is it that makes an advertisement so effective? David Foster Wallace once noted what an advertisementdoes. That there are intentional layers to an ad. Initially, it’s there to create intrigue and hook the viewer. But the eventual goal is to create intentional anxiety. And this is an anxiety that’s so designed that it can only be relieved by what’s come to be convinced as a necessary purchase. Because an ad at its finest doesn’t strike the feeling inside of you — That’s nice, and I’d like to have that. But when an ad is at its finest, it strikes that feeling — I don’t have that, and I need to have that. As in, without that all of a sudden necessary product, it creates this existential angst, by directing your attention to an emptiness, a vacuum felt within. And that picture is actually the word picture for the word anxiety — it’s to be torn apart and into pieces. And when you’re torn into pieces, you’re fragmented, and there are gapseverywhere, resulting in this emptiness and felt vacuum. And these eventuate into us thinking that what we have isn’t enough, and whatever we have isn’t holding us together.

And the apostle Paul, in our passage, addresses this from multiple angles. And we have to remember his context here. The Roman government didn’t supply food for their prisoners. If they weren’t provided for by outside means, they would starve to death. Paul here is himself experiencing a literal emptiness. And the way that he describes this experience is not with dissatisfaction or panic but a strange and seemingly illogical contentment — a contentment that isn’t coerced without reason but actually comes from the source of a real fullness — a fullness that all the emptiness of this world cannot alter. A contentment that prompts the apostle Paul to famously write — Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. And this isn’t the apostle Paul faking some piety or promoting some form of masochism. But as he’s been confronted with anxiety, this dizzying emptiness where he feels the holes, of being torn apart and emptied. It’s here that he says that he’s learned the secret. And this secret has everything to with the antithesis of this emptiness, this anxiety, which he stated back in verse 7 as the peace of God.

And in our modern understanding of peace, in a post-World War world, we’re often lead to thinking of peace as this absence of — an absence of violence, of disruption, of conflict, of tension. And that’s one aspect of peace. But that’s not the full picture, it’s not the true solution to the apostle Paul’s felt emptiness. Because his felt emptiness would not find its needs met in the absence of but rather the fullness of. And that’s his secret. And Cornelius Plantinga cues us with the biblical understanding of the Hebrew word for peace, which is Shalom. Something my kids have been singing ever since watching David — Shalom, Shalom, peace be with you wherever you go. But back to Plantinga — this Shalom is not just an absence of but a fullness of, the wholeness of the way things are supposed to be, without gapsand holes, without being high-strung in fear of things falling apart. Where once again, anxiety is this dizzying panic due to our lack and our feelings of fragmentation, biblical peace — Shalom — is where those fragmented pieces are put together to create not just the sense of but the reality and the promise of fullness and wholeness.

Which if you can trace this analogy, it’s in trusting in hands outside of us. That there is one who has the whole picture, as someone who’s mastered the most complex puzzles. And he’s examined our fragmentations, our gaps and felt emptiness, in order to put the pieces together. For as the Bible informs us in Ephesians 2:10, we are his workmanship. And the apostle Paul writes this in context of not how God made us in the beginning, but rather, with how he’s remaking us. It’s not a new construction but something he’s making new. Like a renovation project, which I know some of you have your hands on, at the moment. And that word for workmanship, in the Greek, is the word ποημα, which is where we get the word poem. Meaning it’s not just the doing of God but the art of God in working with our anxiety. And maybe you’ve seen an artist at work before. But in the process, it might not make a whole lot of sense. But in the end, it all comes together. Because only the artist sees the whole picture. As an artist does, he brings fragmented pieces together in cohesion, because he sees the full picture. And perhaps, you don’t see it right now. Because the things that are making you anxious and feel fragmented and torn apart don’t seem beautiful. And from where you are, things are uncertain. And that feeling of fear is transferred into that place of unknown, the future. But it’s a part of God’s master work, his workmanship, his ποημα. This is what our God does — he works with our anxieties and broken scenarios to bring about something beautiful.

In my previous ministry context in Philadelphia, our church worked with an inner city ministry. Actually, they were in the outskirts of the city. But it was the most economically depressed neighborhood in the city. I recall a conversation with Manny Ortiz, who was the founder of the ministry. And he was sharing about why the ministry here was so hard. Because the hope for the people in these neighborhoods in North Philadelphia was in their current neighborhoods. Their hope was in them getting out. That there was this vicious cycle, where people resorted to being there due to their poverty. But for those with means and abilities, they left, seeking for a better life, for better circumstances. And according to Manny, the gospel was the only hope for these neighborhoods. Because government systems and human proclivities and reflexes could not be leaned upon. What was needed was when people stayed — not because they needed to take from the neighborhoods but would pour into these neighborhoods. Where their source of strength came from outside — something so outside and so solid that the depressed circumstances of these neighborhoods possessed not the power to veer them off mission.

And you see, the way that the apostle Paul defines the peace of God is as something from outside, from another world— that which surpasses all understanding. Meaning no logic from this world can sufficiently explain this peace. Which is why whatever felt devastation and emptying that he experiences in this world can’t affect or subtract from this peace. Because this peace doesn’t come from this world. But rather, it comes from another world and into this world. And as Augustine said about this peace, this was found not in looking at what is fleeting. But in his words, it’s only found in gazing upon something that is immutable — that is unchangeable and thus undefiled and imperishable. Something our circumstances don’t have the power to adjust or alter. Whether that be suffocating circumstances or living situations, traumatic experiences, moments of instability or insecurity, moral failures, and personal sins and offenses against our God. None of these this have the capability to affect this deposit of what Paul calls the peace of God. And so, this peace of God that comes from and is kept safe in another world is said in verse 7 to guard our hearts and our minds in Christ Jesus. And this word to guard is a military term that means to set a garrison.

And this would have evoked familiar images of lived out experiences for those who were currently in Philippi. This was a colony of Rome. And theirs was a history of the clashing of great powers — of when Marc Antony and Brutus Cassiuscollided. Theirs was a proud Roman history whose birth was sandwiched between the reigns of Julius Caesar and Caesar Augustus, arguably Rome’s two greatest emperors in their history. And it’s with this clashing of powers that this city was formed. And so, there was this regular visual of what this guarding looked like. For these Philippians, along with all those considered Roman citizens, they were protected from outside threats and terrors. Because this garrison set around the city was connected to the power and the might of Rome, which provided this era in history known to us as the Pax Romana — Latin for the peace of Rome. And this was a two hundred year period where there was undisturbed and unmatched peace among those and for those under Roman authority. This was both the absence of violence, providing safety and security. But this was also a season of great opulence and economic flourishing. It was a time when the Roman Empire doubled in size and reached up to a quarter of the known global population. It was a high point in Roman history, with not just the absence of but the fullness of. And something that couldn’t be threatened because of the powers that guarded everything Rome. As one historian put it, this is the Empire in its glorified prime. And it’s during this time where poets such as Virgil and Horace wrote not only in description of Rome’s present glorybut in anticipation of future glory that was, indeed, far surpassing.

And if all of that sounds eerily familiar, it’s intended to. Because this is exactly what the apostle Paul is doing in redirecting the gaze of these Philippians. For in the mind of the apostle, this worldly peace was a mere counterfeit — it was ultimately something that would perish and wasn’t able to sustain the anxious hearts and lives of those longing for eternity. And so, there is this intentional redirecting and redefining that the apostle Paul does — away from the peace of Rome, the Pax Romana and toward what he refers to as the peace of God. That peace — the absence of all that’s threatening and unsafe and the fullness of all that’s beautiful and prosperous. That peace is something that belongs ultimately not to Rome, not to Caesar, but to God. For in mentioning the peace of God in this very and exact construction of words, it was to show a far greater and far more long lasting means for protection and for flourishingthan even the seemingly invincible Roman Empire. And what Paul is directing our hearts toward is not to trust in manmade systems but in that which surpasses all understanding. Not the peace of Rome but something even greater — the peace of God.

For there was a greater tension and a greater clashing of powers than Marc Antony and Brutus Cassius. This was the place where the greatest anxieties were pressed upon one who entered in, who cast himself into this anxious and depressed situation. And this cataclysmic moment, the battlefield where cosmic powers converged, was the site of the cross. This is where heaven and earth would meet, where an instrument that Caesar once appropriated as his own instrument of power Jesus would claim as the power of God. For here the prince of heaven left his palace in order to dive into our depressed neighborhood, so to speak, our places of anxieties and brokenness and hopeless. Here was not just the author of life but the fullness of life drained and emptied in exchange to fill those with nothing to bring but our helplessness, our infractions, and our sins. Where incredible stress was put upon he who cried out to his Father in deepest agony and anxiety, being torn apart and fragmented. For us who feel this emptiness and fragmentation, Jesustook that upon himself on the cross, where his flesh was torn apart and an eternal chasm was formed between him and his Father, with whom he had eternal love and friendship. And it’s as Jesus experienced this jolt of wrath, this great energy transfer to withstand all that life hurls at us.

This is the secret that the apostle Paul knows. Because that word strengthens found in the coffee mug verse over in verse 13 comes from the Greek word ενδυναμοω. And the root of this verb is found also in its noun form δυναμις, which is where we get the word dynamite. And when you think about dynamite, it’s an explosion. It’s when great poweris unleashed and it shifts the things that are around it. It’s an energy transfer, if you will. And as many of you know, that’s what power is. It’s an energy transfer. It’s when you sap the energy out from one end in order to deliver the explosive manifestation of that power transfer onto the other end. That for us to be filled with life, he had to impart to us his life and take upon our death. Jesus creates the fullness of because of his experience of the ultimate absence of. And in this exchange, he left heaven’s throne to come to a broken people. Something that surpasses all understanding, because it’s a peace that’s found outside of our world. And it’s burst into our world in order to give anxious peoplepeace for all time.

And here’s how we’ll begin closing our time. Jonathan Haidt, in his recent book The Anxious Generation, shows some of the researched effects of phone addiction. And that more than ever before, people across all ages (but in particular, with pre-teen and teenage girls) are struggling with anxiety. That fear is a natural reaction to something that’s happening in the present. And anxiety is that same feeling about something that might happen. That what creates not just anxious thoughts but anxious hearts and anxiety-ridden people are when we are uncertain about what’s going to happen in the future and are hyper-fixated upon that, worrying about what might happen. And the illusion of smartphones is that we have everything at the touch of a finger. But the reality is that we are so far from controlling our future and our circumstances. And when our expectations and hopes are not met with what happens, our hearts begin to feel fragmented. But the reason why we need the peace of God is because our present anxieties have no power to affect or alter this peace. Because of what has happened — that Christ has died, he has risen, and so, he will come again. He took upon that ultimate anxiety. And it’s at the Garden of Gethsemane, where Jesus prays to his Father, asking him to take the cup from him — not because he was uncertain of what was going to happen. But actually because he knew exactly what had to and what would happen. That his skin would be torn apart and his heart would be so fragmented in experiencing the wrath of God on our behalf. Friends, in this new year, whether it’s anxious thoughtsregarding something that might be or a circumstance that’s hard or an unsettling situation. We bring those to the peace of God — that which surpasses all understanding. Because no other story involves the sinless king coming to die for a sinful people. But that’s why it surpasses all understanding. Bring your anxieties and doubts to the cross of Christ. And we as a community be anchored here in this coming year. Because it’s safe here, it protects us. And in his timing and wisdom, it flourishes us too — in our deep union with Christ.