is from the earth, earthy. You will find through several chapters where our Saviour is addressing his disciples, he continually contrasts himself, his gifts, and his love, with those of the world. He came from heaven that he might fight and wrestle with an evil and a wicked world; that he might rescue his people from it; that he might cleanse the world, and, at last, might present the earth itself to himself, to be the new heaven and the new earth, where righteousness should dwell. I say, it seems only right, that in a gospel which particularly views Christ as of heavenly origin, and as very God of very God, that there should frequently be a contrast between Christ and the world, between the kingdom which is from heaven, and the kingdoms of this earth. Now, our text presents us with one contrast between Christ and the world: “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you.” He gives according a more divine fashion than the world can ever give, even when its hand is most laden with its gifts.
2. Now, I shall take my text this morning, and endeavour to talk about it thus — first, viewing it with regard to the peace which Christ gives: he does not give peace as the world gives it. Secondly, I shall take a larger view of the subject, and look upon all the gifts of Christ, and say that, “not as the world gives, does he bestow his mercies on us”; and then close with a practical inference from the whole subject.
3. I. First of all, IN THE MATTER OF PEACE, Christ gives us peace, but not as the world gives it. For, in the first place, the world gives peace in a complimentary style. It was usual among the Orientals, for the wayfarer to say to the person whom he met, “Peace be to you”; and generally, when a house was entered, the benediction of peace was bestowed by every person who stepped across the threshold. These were often only vain and empty expressions of compliment. Those very utterances might proceed from the lips of an enemy. “The words of his mouth were smoother than butter, but war was in his heart: his words were softer than oil, yet they were drawn swords.” It is the same with the world to this day. Everyone salutes us in writing with a “Dear sir,” or a “My dear sir,” and concludes “Yours very truly,” and “Yours sincerely.” We call all “friends,” and if we meet only casually we express the utmost anxiety with regard to one another’s health, and we carefully enquire after each other’s families; when perhaps we shall no sooner have passed by the person than we shall forget his existence, and certainly shall entertain no anxious thoughts with regard to his welfare, nor any loving remembrance of him. The world gives very generously when it gives compliments. Oh, what blessings would descend upon all our heads, if the blessings uttered could be blessings bestowed. Even when the “Goodbye” is given, which translated means, “God be with you” — if that could only be true, and if God could be with us, in answer to that prayer, so little understood, how rich might we be! But alas! the way of the world is, “Be warmed and be filled”; but it has not what could warm, nor what could fill. It is a world of words; high sounding, empty, all deceiving words. Now, not so, does Christ give. If he says “Peace be with you,” his benediction is most true and full of sweet sincerity. He left his own peace in heaven, that he might give the peace which he enjoyed with his Father, to us in this world of sorrow, for thus he puts it, “My peace I give to you.” Christ, when he blesses, blesses not in word only, but in deed. The lips of truth cannot promise more than the hands of love will surely give. He does give in compliment.
4. Furthermore, even when the world’s wishes of peace are sincere, what are they except mere wishes. If I am met by my most sincere friend, and he wishes to give a benediction, he cannot bestow one. It is for God only to bless his people with peace. We may bless with the wish but not with the deed. It may be our desire that every mercy should cluster around the head of our friend — that his pillow should be smooth, that his path should be easy, that his heart should be happy, that his end may be peace; but we must leave it with God to fulfil our prayers. If our power were equal to our will, how richly would we bless our friends with the priceless jewel of peace. But Christ says, “Not as the world gives do I give to you.” His wishes for us shall be accomplished, and he himself shall work them out. Does he wish for us that we may be sanctified? Lo! he will sanctify us, and present us without spot, or wrinkle, or any such things. Is it his will that we should be with him where he is? It shall be done, and we shall behold his glory and we shall share in it. There was never a wish in Christ’s heart with regard to his people that merely ended in a wish. The wish is only the bowstring; the blessing is the arrow shot from it. Christ does not have an empty bow, but his quiver is filled with arrows, and every time he wishes, he places a blessing on the string and sends it to us. Oh rest assured that not as the world gives, with the empty wish, the deceitful brook, the empty well does Christ give to us, but he gives a fulness and a reality in all that he bestows.
5. Yet, furthermore, I may remark that, with regard to peace, the world gives only peace in prospect. There is not a man alive who is not hoping for better times; even boys believe that better times are coming — times of rest and peace. The man who is just beginning in business expects that he shall take his rest and be much at ease, when he shall have succeeded in establishing a connection; or if he finds that, as business increases, cares multiply, he hopes that, in a little while, the whole matter will become more steady, and that by the employment of honest people, much of the care may be taken from him. And that time comes; but he finds that, even then, there are fresh cares which have arisen as the others have died out. He then looks forward to the time when, in his ripe old age, he shall retire to some country retreat, and there spend the rest of his days in peace. For the most part that is only a dream, and grey age in its retirement has its troubles still; still, when men grow old, trouble is as young as ever, and man finds just as much to prick and wound in the thorns of earth as when for the first time he trod its soil. We are all intending and beginning to be peaceful; we are all going to be happy by and by. We have all made up our minds that soon we will have finished with desiring more, and then we will take our rest. This is the miraculous mistake of man, — that he is always beginning to live; but he never does live; he always intends to be satisfied, but he never is; he always means to sit down in contentment, but that period never arrives. He has always something to vex him, but still hopes the day shall come when he shall be vexed no more. Now, not as the world gives does Christ give to us. The world puts before us a mirage in the desert. We see before us what we imagine to be springs of water, and spreading palm trees; and we rush forward, but it is not there. It is only a few hundred yards ahead, and on we go, full wearily and footsore, and now it is a little further on; still we hurry on, but as we progress the vision stretches before us, but we never reach it. Christ does not bless like this. He gives, and gives now; he gives in present foretaste, and will give assuredly in the world which is to come. Yes, even now, the true Christian can say he has peace in Christ. Oh! there are some of us who know what it is to be so content and happy when our thoughts are exercised upon our standing in Christ, that we could say we have not a wish for anything more; we could sit still for ever, and rest in him. Truly, we can testify that those who have believed do enter into rest. We have seen the billows roar, we have noticed the storm gathering, we have seen the black clouds full of tempest, gathering overhead; and we have been enabled to defy all these things, and to find rest in Christ, notwithstanding. No, and when the clouds have emptied out their horrors, when the lightnings have scathed the brow of darkness, and the thunder has rolled, tremendous, through the sky, we have known what it is, even then, to rest in the bosom of Christ, as a babe upon the breast of its mother. We have had a quiet and a perfect rest while the world has been in arms abroad. Christ gives a real peace, not something that we have to hunt after for tomorrow, but a thing that we have now. And the true believer can say that, when he is enabled to see himself in Christ, he has all he wants; he can rest on beds of spices, feed among the lilies of satisfaction, and neither ask nor wish for anything beyond. “Peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you.”
6. Yet again, I remark once more, that all the peace which the world ever did give to any man, was a delusion. I know some who possess the world’s peace; I wish that that peace were broken. Some of you are content with yourselves; you are good enough you say, or, if not good enough, it is easy to amend. You fold your arms, and you say, “Why make myself miserable about religion? Why trouble myself about the interests
