Artificial Peace

I feel like I reflected on this verse not too long ago, but it bears repeating—particularly these days, when peace seems in short supply for so many.

My ex-husband is an abstract expressionist artist, and at the height of his painting career, he created a work titled Artificial Peace. My mother, who was living with us at the time, often helped name his work. Though it sold long ago, I could still picture it and eventually tracked down the image to share. Even without hearing her reasoning, always thoughtful and deep, I understand why the name feels so right now.

There’s serenity in the superficially monotone muted blue, despite the underlying chaos reflected in the different colors and textures. The peace it conveys is artificial—serene on the surface, unresolved underneath. That tension captures what’s been on my mind.

Jesus tells us that the peace he gives is unlike anything the world offers—deeper, more enduring, and not dependent on circumstances, however chaotic.

I’m not sure many of us in the modern West often experience this kind of peace—not because it’s unavailable, but because comfort offers so many convincing substitutes. There are countless quick fixes that give us the illusion of peace.

Increasingly, what is stealing our peace isn’t just personal trouble, but God-sized global problems far beyond our human fixes. The strategies that once soothed us may not work as well because the scale of what we’re facing has outgrown them.

In that sense, Jesus’ sufficiency is becoming not only more compelling, but more concrete. As the illusion of self-sufficiency collapses, the promise of a peace that does not depend on circumstances feels less abstract—and far more necessary.

I know this because I’ve lived it.

I often share how often I've sought peace in external things—security, substances, achievement, relationships, control...They briefly gave the illusion of quieting the fear, but it didn't last. When they failed, they often left more anxiety in their wake.

I’ve even found artificial peace in religious activity, taken to the point of superstition—something Jesus explicitly warned against. Not because spiritual practices are wrong, but because even good things can become substitutes rather than pathways to Him.

There is something deeply comforting about spiritual disciplines. Yet they can fail us when they replace relationship with Christ rather than deepen it. They can magnify angst.., and other unhelpful feelings like pride (the worst)…and leave us wondering why we don’t feel better.

When that happens, the failure itself can become an invitation to draw nearer to the One who is peace.

When you step back, many of the things we turn to for peace—whether success, security, substances, or even spiritual practices—have more in common than we’d like to admit. They promise what only God can provide. They aren’t all evil in themselves, but they become idols when we ask them to do God’s work.

This is the first and second commandments lived out in real time: misplaced trust and divided allegiance. Jesus warned against these, partly because he knows they cannot deliver what they promise and can quietly pull us away from him.

In my own life, the deepest peace has come when illusions of self-sufficiency were stripped away—when I found myself powerless or nearly so. It’s humbling, even ironic, because it reveals how often I've turned to Christ last rather than first. Just being honest.

Grace meets us there—not to shame us, but to free us.

The church fathers and mothers understood this well. Life was more uncertain, distractions fewer, comforts more rare. Yet even they saw the risk of drift clearly. It is much harder now, to be truly anchored in Christ, in a world where substitutes and diversions are everywhere.

You can see why peace might come more readily in a desert cave or a cliffside monastery—without Wi-Fi.

Even today, the Church often grows most vibrantly where there is no alternative to dependence on Christ. Echoing Jesus’ teaching in the Sermon on the Mount and the Sermon on the Plain, many embraced simplicity not as deprivation, but as wisdom—a guard against the spiritual danger of comfort.

The closer we are to Jesus, more fixed on his sufficiency, the less our peace depends on circumstances.

Not artificial peace.

Real peace.

The kind of peace that feels like a lot the freedom Jesus offers.♥️

PRAYER:

Jesus, you promise real peace, yet we are so often peaceless. Open our eyes, Lord, and help us see why, and redirect us to you—our Perfect Peace. In your name. Amen. Thank you. I love you.

DIG DEEPER:

The Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7)

The Sermon on the Plain (Luke 6:20-49)