Peace. We all want it. Everyone needs it. Poets and singers dare us to imagine it in our time. Protestors cry out and march for it at any cost. Leaders vying for our support promise, again and again, to deliver it. Yet true, lasting peace continues to elude us. The very notion of world peace seems almost mythical at best and, at worst, while it has become the default answer to what everyone should wish for—no one actually expects that wish to be granted.

The Bible offers us a word that captures the essence of what deep down we are all seeking. Shalom. Usually translated into English as “peace,” the Hebrew word “shalom” conveys a vision of far more than the absence of conflict or the achievement of silence or stillness. Shalom expresses the blessing of wholeness or completeness. It reflects an awareness of a reality that once was and could be again—a soundness, a connectedness, a unity and integrity of life as it was first conceived.

Poverty. Pollution. Anxiety. Oppression. War. These were not part of the original design when our Creator first spoke life into existence. When God fashioned the cosmos and shaped humanity in the divine image, God intricately weaved together a creation marked by perfect harmony and complementary interdependence. This beautiful and sacred tapestry, this labor of love which could only be described as “very good” (Genesis 1:31) is the picture of shalom.

Tragically, what began as a masterpiece soon became marred by ego and greed. The limitless canvas of shalom was torn asunder by rivalry and fear. Assigning blame eclipsed taking responsibility. The temptation to believe helping oneself is better than helping one’s neighbor unraveled any lasting spirit of mutual kinship and collaboration.

Thankfully, all was not lost. Though largely out of focus, the faintest glimmer of our former God-given glory inescapably lingers in our mind’s eye, the recesses of our heart, and the core of our soul. Like beams of light, impulses towards goodness—acts of humble generosity and courageous compassion—emerge now and then through the fractures of a wounded world. In such moments, we catch a glimpse of the Artist’s vision and intention—of what was once, of what still could be. Even as history keeps repeating itself, the longing and possibility of shalom provokes us to dream, to hope, to believe in something beyond life as we know and experience it.

On our own, fragmented and isolated as we are from each other, the actualization of this possibility is out of our reach. No matter how hard we try, a nagging sense of our lack, our incompleteness, of something missing remains. Any sense of peace we broker together is always fragile and ends up being more easily broken than it has been made.

Shalom, like all things from God, is a gift. Wholeness and unity of being are not something we can conjure up, earn, or achieve. The peace we have lost can only be returned by the One who first crafted it for us. And so God comes down to us in order to bring shalom. Offering more than a peace sign and a big smile, in the person of Jesus Christ, God becomes our shalom.

Jesus embodies and models the fullness and integrity of our shared identity as children of God. He heals every breach in, among, and between us with the salve of unconditional, sacrificial love and forgiveness. Jesus makes our lives complete and our eternal destiny secure by conquering once and for all the permanence of death’s sting.

The biblical picture of shalom is not intended to be a dream for tomorrow. Not coincidentally, the very first words Jesus declares to his disciples when he encounters them after his crucifixion and resurrection are the greeting, the blessing, and the invitation of “Shalom!” The biblical vision of peace is intended to come into focus more and more as we daily are restored, renewed, and made whole in Christ and as we extend such peace to each other.

There are many strands by which we have been called to reweave shalom into the tapestry of creation. Advocating in word and deed for a more just world. Being agents of reconciliation and inclusion in the face of the continuing impulse to divide and exclude. Choosing to do what is right even when we have been wronged. Being witnesses to hope rather than propagating fear in this bruised and wounded world.

Pursuing peace then is not chasing an illusion that doesn’t exist. It is following the One who teaches and speaks into being the peace we all need. It is nurturing the seeds of shalom that are sown by the Spirit of Christ—first in us and then through us as we foster peace with each other. It is cultivating beauty—wholeness and peace in our daily lives and communities, in our various work and practices, and in our shared present and collective future.

Peace. We all want it. Everyone needs it. Poets and singers dare us to imagine it in our time. Protestors cry out and march for it at any cost. Leaders vying for our support promise, again and again, to deliver it. Yet true, lasting peace continues to elude us. The very notion of world peace seems almost mythical at best and, at worst, while it has become the default answer to what everyone should wish for—no one actually expects that wish to be granted.

The Bible offers us a word that captures the essence of what deep down we are all seeking. Shalom. Usually translated into English as “peace,” the Hebrew word “shalom” conveys a vision of far more than the absence of conflict or the achievement of silence or stillness. Shalom expresses the blessing of wholeness or completeness. It reflects an awareness of a reality that once was and could be again—a soundness, a connectedness, a unity and integrity of life as it was first conceived.

Poverty. Pollution. Anxiety. Oppression. War. These were not part of the original design when our Creator first spoke life into existence. When God fashioned the cosmos and shaped humanity in the divine image, God intricately weaved together a creation marked by perfect harmony and complementary interdependence. This beautiful and sacred tapestry, this labor of love which could only be described as “very good” (Genesis 1:31) is the picture of shalom.

Tragically, what began as a masterpiece soon became marred by ego and greed. The limitless canvas of shalom was torn asunder by rivalry and fear. Assigning blame eclipsed taking responsibility. The temptation to believe helping oneself is better than helping one’s neighbor unraveled any lasting spirit of mutual kinship and collaboration.

Thankfully, all was not lost. Though largely out of focus, the faintest glimmer of our former God-given glory inescapably lingers in our mind’s eye, the recesses of our heart, and the core of our soul. Like beams of light, impulses towards goodness—acts of humble generosity and courageous compassion—emerge now and then through the fractures of a wounded world. In such moments, we catch a glimpse of the Artist’s vision and intention—of what was once, of what still could be. Even as history keeps repeating itself, the longing and possibility of shalom provokes us to dream, to hope, to believe in something beyond life as we know and experience it.

On our own, fragmented and isolated as we are from each other, the actualization of this possibility is out of our reach. No matter how hard we try, a nagging sense of our lack, our incompleteness, of something missing remains. Any sense of peace we broker together is always fragile and ends up being more easily broken than it has been made.

Shalom, like all things from God, is a gift. Wholeness and unity of being are not something we can conjure up, earn, or achieve. The peace we have lost can only be returned by the One who first crafted it for us. And so God comes down to us in order to bring shalom. Offering more than a peace sign and a big smile, in the person of Jesus Christ, God becomes our shalom.

Jesus embodies and models the fullness and integrity of our shared identity as children of God. He heals every breach in, among, and between us with the salve of unconditional, sacrificial love and forgiveness. Jesus makes our lives complete and our eternal destiny secure by conquering once and for all the permanence of death’s sting.

The biblical picture of shalom is not intended to be a dream for tomorrow. Not coincidentally, the very first words Jesus declares to his disciples when he encounters them after his crucifixion and resurrection are the greeting, the blessing, and the invitation of “Shalom!” The biblical vision of peace is intended to come into focus more and more as we daily are restored, renewed, and made whole in Christ and as we extend such peace to each other.

There are many strands by which we have been called to reweave shalom into the tapestry of creation. Advocating in word and deed for a more just world. Being agents of reconciliation and inclusion in the face of the continuing impulse to divide and exclude. Choosing to do what is right even when we have been wronged. Being witnesses to hope rather than propagating fear in this bruised and wounded world.

Pursuing peace then is not chasing an illusion that doesn’t exist. It is following the One who teaches and speaks into being the peace we all need. It is nurturing the seeds of shalom that are sown by the Spirit of Christ—first in us and then through us as we foster peace with each other. It is cultivating beauty—wholeness and peace in our daily lives and communities, in our various work and practices, and in our shared present and collective future.