Walking Down the Path of Peace

By the tender mercy of our God,
the dawn from on high will break upon us,
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the way of peace. – Luke 1:78–79

At the beginning of this year, I started a devotional series to read through the entire Bible with members of my extended family. This particular devotional plan moves historically through the Bible, which means we spend roughly nine months in the Old Testament before reading a single New Testament text. Somewhere around 2 Samuel, my cousin texted our group chat saying he was done because he couldn’t take being in the Old Testament any longer; too much violence and war and not enough peace.

I think my cousin’s view can ring true for how many of us experience the Old Testament. But on a deeper level, I believe he was experiencing, in a small way, the longing for peace that fills the pages of the Old Testament. The path from creation’s fall to its redemption in Jesus is not smooth, and the journey of God’s people across generations is marked by violence, failure, and suffering. This history and legacy create the backdrop for the unfolding of God’s aim to guide people down paths of peace in the New Testament.

But it is a mistake to think that the New Testament ignores issues of violence, or to assume that living on this side of Christ’s first advent means we no longer have to wrestle with the stories of pain, suffering, and violence that seem all too common in the Old Testament. If we take an honest look at the world around us, we might see a world that continues to suffer under the violence of its inhabitants. We might think of the lands and peoples of Ukraine, Israel and Palestine, or Sudan. Stories of ICE raids throughout local communities fill our social media feeds. And in the world of work, people have moved from quiet quitting—employees quietly leaving their jobs for better opportunities elsewhere—to quiet cracking—employees suffering in isolation due to a declining job market and a pessimistic future. All is not right in the world, and we are still in desperate need of God’s peace.

Advent invites us to take a hard look at the reality of our lives and our world; it calls us to name the manifold ways that we participate in or have been entrapped by patterns of violence and suffering so that we can receive anew the salvation and peace that God desires to bring now and will bring in fullness when Christ returns.

Advent invites us to take a hard look at the reality of our lives and our world; it calls us to name the manifold ways that we participate in or have been entrapped by patterns of violence and suffering so that we can receive anew the salvation and peace that God desires to bring now and will bring in fullness when Christ returns.

Salvation, Peace, and John the Baptist

Although oriented toward the first and second comings of Christ, perhaps no figure looms larger in Advent than John the Baptist. The reason for this is simple: it is this Elijah-like prophet that signals the end of the old age and the dawn of the new, proclaiming the end (that is, the goal) of the law and prophets and the coming of God’s kingdom (Luke 16:16). All four gospel accounts bear witness to John’s pivotal role in the unfolding of God’s salvific agenda, but Luke alone orients John’s work toward peace.

Luke describes John’s birth with numerous echoes to the Old Testament: his parents conceive in old age like Abraham and Sarah, his father Zechariah is visited by an angel while in the temple, and John is described as one who will walk in the spirit of Elijah and will prepare the people for the coming Lord like Isaiah foretold. And in response to the birth of John the Baptist, his father Zechariah bursts into a prophetic pronouncement that ends with a promise: God’s light of salvation will “guide our feet into the way of peace” (Luke 1:79).

Luke’s description of John’s birth reveals a thread that weaves throughout the history of God’s people and the biblical narrative, a thread that ties together the longings of Abraham, Sarah, Elijah, and Isaiah to God’s own divine longing—God longs to save all of creation from patterns of violence and death so we can walk in the way of peace.

Luke picks up this thread in John’s public ministry (Luke 3:3–17). Echoing the words of Isaiah, John points out that the people are walking on crooked and rough paths that need to be straightened out and smoothed over. He exhorts the crowds to share extra clothes and food with those who have none, tax collectors to collect only the required amount, and soldiers to stop practices of intimidation and extortion. Walking down the way of peace will manifest itself in the day-to-day relationships of work and community life. In other words, the road to peace is paved with practices of generosity and hospitality made possible by the economy of God’s kingdom, and not on the backs of the poor and vulnerable.

Walking down the way of peace will manifest itself in the day-to-day relationships of work and community life.

The Story of Saul: How Crooked Paths Are Made Straight

But what does it look like for God to straighten out the rough places of our lives? Luke provides a clear example in the character of Saul.

Through numerous descriptors, Luke presents Saul as walking in the footsteps of certain Pharisees and legal experts who rejected John’s baptism and were criticized by Jesus for continuing the violent practices of their ancestors (Luke 7:30; 11:47–51). Saul is introduced as a Pharisee who approves of the killing of Stephen (Acts 8:1; 22:20), and is repeatedly identified as a persecutor of Jesus and of the Way (9:4–5; 22:4, 7–8; 26:11, 14–15). Saul is walking down a path of violence and bloodshed, one of the crooked paths that must be straightened to receive the Lord and the peace that he brings.

However, it’s essential to recognize Saul’s violent actions as a manifestation of his longing for peace. Saul’s actions are his attempts to secure future peace for his nation by violently eradicating perceived threats to the Jewish way of life. His longing for peace pushes him to take matters into his own hands and build a future peace on the backs of others. Thinking he is on the path of peace, Saul unknowingly walks down a crooked path covered by death’s shadow.

But the Lord will not let his children walk in darkness forever and encounters Saul on the road to Damascus (Acts 9:3–19; 22:6–16; 26:12–18). Jesus appears to Saul as a bright light to drive away the darkness of Saul’s actions. Saul is led to a house on Straight Street, where the Lord directs a disciple named Ananias to come, heal his sight, and baptize Saul in water so that he might receive the Spirit.

As a result of this encounter, Saul begins to preach like John the Baptist, calling everyone “to repent and turn to God by doing deeds worthy of repentance” (Acts 26:20). Instead of inflicting suffering on those deemed a threat to Israel’s future security, Saul learns that faithful endurance of suffering is the path to ensure Israel’s service to God. Significantly, his conversion ends with the final summary of the Spirit-filled community’s life in Acts: “So the church in all of Judea, Galilee, and Samaria had peace” (Acts 9:31). Saul’s life reveals how God gives light to those who sit in darkness and, through the advent of the risen Jesus, guides them down a path toward peace.

Advent’s Invitation

Luke’s narrative provides a window into how God’s eternal longing for peace meets and reshapes our often crooked pursuits of peace. The words of John the Baptist and the story of Saul invite us to name how our lives are still shrouded in darkness so that we can receive the light of salvation. Is the peace we enjoy built on the backs of the poor and vulnerable? Do we act as if we need to bring about peace through the power of our hands, or do we trust in God’s resurrection power? How do we respond to the people and powers that threaten our peace? Will the past success of our company, management style, or church ministry be what is needed for the future?

Do we act as if we need to bring about peace through the power of our hands, or do we trust in God’s resurrection power?

Advent invites us to ask these and other questions so that God’s light can shine in the dark places of our personal and communal lives. To the extent that we have become accustomed to darkness, the light will hurt and burn. Indeed, we might first experience the light as a kind of judgment, falling to the ground and being blinded like Saul. But God’s desire to take on flesh in the world that he created and come again to judge the living and the dead reveals God’s deep longing for us to trust in divine grace. Advent reminds us that God desires to heal our blindness and free us from patterns of violence and harm. During this week of Advent, may we trust our lives into the hands of a God full of tender mercy, who desires to smooth over our rough edges and guide us down the path of peace.

Reflection Questions:

1. Where do you most obviously feel the ache that “all is not right in the world?” How does that frame the way you see God?
2. Do you see any areas in your work, personal, or community life where peace is built “on the backs of the poor and vulnerable”?
3. What does “walking in the way of peace” look like in your workplace, family, or community?