5 May 2026
Not as the world gives
In the first reading today, Paul is in Lystra, and the same place where a miracle had just taken place now becomes the place of violence. People come from Antioch and Iconium, stir up the crowd, and Paul is stoned and dragged out of the city, presumed dead. That is not symbolic. That is real. That is what fidelity to the Gospel looks like in that time.
And yet, the next line is just as striking: “After the disciples gathered around him, he got up and entered the city.” He doesn’t retreat. He doesn’t abandon the mission. He gets up and goes back in. And then he continues on, strengthening the disciples, encouraging them, telling them plainly: “It is necessary for us to undergo many hardships to enter the Kingdom of God.” That’s the action. The Gospel advances, but not by avoiding suffering, by passing through it. It grows not because the path is easy, but because the mission is rooted in something deeper than comfort.
Now hold that next to the Gospel. We are still in the Last Supper. Jesus is preparing His disciples for His departure, and everything He is saying is meant to anchor them for what is coming. He says, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you.” That line only makes sense in context. Because what is about to happen is anything but peaceful in a worldly sense. There will be betrayal, arrest, crucifixion, fear, confusion. And yet Jesus speaks of peace. “Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid.” That is not a denial of reality. It is an invitation to live within it differently.
And then He adds something that explains everything: “The ruler of the world is coming. He has no power over me.” In other words, what is about to unfold, the Passion, the Cross, is not a defeat. It is an act of obedience: “The world must know that I love the Father and that I do just as the Father has commanded me.” The Cross is not just suffering, it is faithful obedience in the face of suffering.
Now bring these together. In Acts, Paul lives that same pattern. He is opposed, attacked, even left for dead, and he continues. Not because he is stubborn, but because he is rooted in something deeper. The peace that Christ promised is already at work in him. It doesn’t remove the hardship, but it sustains him through it. That’s why he can get up and go back into the city. That’s why he can continue strengthening others.
And this is where it becomes very real for us. Because we often think of peace as things going well, as stability, ease, clarity, especially since we live in relative peace. But Jesus is very clear: “Not as the world gives do I give it to you.” His peace is not dependent on circumstances. It is grounded in relationship, in obedience, in trust, in remaining in Him even when things are difficult.
So the question today is: what do I mean when I ask for peace? Am I asking for the removal of difficulty, or am I asking to be rooted more deeply in Christ within it? Because those are not the same thing. And how do I respond when hardship comes? Do I step back, withdraw, lose direction? Or do I remain, continue, stay anchored in what I know to be true?
Because the Gospel does not advance because circumstances become easier; it advances because it is rooted in something deeper. Even in the face of resistance and hardship, it endures, sustained by the peace Christ gives, by the obedience He lived, and by the life that continues in those who remain in Him.
