I leave peace with you; I give *my* peace to you not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it fear.
Jesus speaks these words to His own before the cross — and He speaks of leaving them something. The verse holds two gifts, not one. The difference between them shapes how a Christian meets trouble.
The legacy left behind
The first half of the verse looks back to what the cross would do. Commentators point out that "leave" and "give" are not saying the same thing twice:
It helps to compare the different sides of peace. In John 14:27 the Lord makes a difference between peace left to us and peace given to us. "Peace I leave with you" is peace with God about every question of sin. He made it by the blood of His cross. He brought the news of it on the evening of the day He rose, when He stood among His own and greeted them with "Peace be with you." … It was the precious legacy of His death. … It is peace of conscience. He could not speak of it as His. He never needed it. We did. So He made it and left it to us.
"My peace" — the peace He lived in
The second gift is something He can call His own, because He had it every day of His life on earth. It was not a peace from easy circumstances, but from unbroken nearness to His Father:
Apart from the cross and the anticipation of the cross, the heart of Jesus was always with God. He felt everything in love, yet nothing distracted Him or weakened His communion with His Father. Perfect obedience and confidence kept a peace in Him. That peace flowed from His walk with God, and from communion with His Father that never failed. … The difficulties He met only gave a chance to show divine life in the heart of a man. They showed the peace that came from knowing He was always with God.
Not as the world gives
The world's giving always means parting with something. Christ's giving does not work that way — what He hands over He still holds:
He Who gives it did not give it away. He had it no less because we were to receive it. Like everything else He gives, we enjoy it whole, in its own divine fullness. Everyone who shares in it adds to it instead of taking from it.
There is a second contrast as well. The world can hand out help while keeping the receiver at arm's length:
The world stands at the doors of its grand houses and hands out gifts to the poor and distressed who gather at its gates. But those same poor never enter the homes the good things come from. No one welcomes them into the comfort and warmth of those houses. They stay outside — strangers. Our Lord does not give His peace to us that way, and we could not know it that way. He opens the door of His dwelling to us and says, "Come and see." And His dwelling is at His Father's side — the infinite, unchanging love of His Father's heart.
Peace that trouble cannot reach
This peace does not depend on what happens around us. So it changes where God stands when trouble comes:
This peace means holding such quiet that nothing else disturbs us. … The soul, so satisfied with its own peace, wants nothing else. It knows God, and finds nothing to disturb it in God or outside of God. This peace will keep God between the trouble and us, instead of the trouble coming between us and God. That is our danger, and that is the remedy.
What disturbs it in us
If the peace itself cannot fail, the loss must be on our side. Writers trace it to a will that is still arguing with God:
The effect for them would be peace in the heart, just as the legacy of His death was peace in the conscience. They would have the peace He Himself enjoyed — the result of that unbroken communion in which He walked with God. For us, a restless will is what disturbs this. It means a struggle against His will. And every gain we make in that direction leaves the soul unsatisfied. If we want only His will, the outcome is not in doubt. … and so we find the true cure for fear.
The command at the end of the verse
The closing words are not advice to feel braver. They rest on knowing the Father's love:
Let us not stand at a distance, full of dark doubts. Let us not nurse our sorrows and fears as though the Father had forgotten us or was angry with us. Let us take the children's place. Let us rest in the Father's love and enjoy that peace beyond measure. Let not our hearts be troubled, nor let them be afraid, even though trouble in the world is what we are given.
Summary
- Peace made. The peace He leaves is the legacy of His death — every question of sin settled at the cross, so the conscience has rest.
- Peace given. The peace He gives is His own. It carried Him through every difficulty, because His communion with His Father never broke.
- Peace shared. The world parts with what it gives, and keeps you outside. He brings you inside and loses nothing.
- Peace kept. It holds God between us and the trouble, rather than letting the trouble come between us and God.
- Peace disturbed. Nothing outside can spoil it; a restless will can. Wanting His will is the cure for fear.