“Prince of Peace” (2025 Christmas Eve Message)

*Madonna of the Meadow, Giovanni Bellini (1505)

2025: Year in Review
Almost every December, major magazines and news organizations publish a “Year in Review.” The Associated Press just has done that for 2025. It begins this way[1]: from battlefronts in Ukraine to the destruction in Gaza, from political upheaval to extreme weather. Wildfires, floods, earthquakes, and hurricanes left deep scars across many communities. Yes, there were moments of resilience and hope, but the dominant headlines are clear: war and conflict, political division, violence and fear, economic anxiety, and climate disasters. In other words, the biggest news of the year tells us one thing: the world is still longing for peace. We want peace. We talk about peace. We march for peace. We negotiate for peace. And yet, the gap between our longing and our reality remains painfully wide.

Peace Promised (Isaiah 9:2-7)
About 2,700 years ago, when peace was promised through the prophet Isaiah, Israel was living in dark times both within and without. Externally, the nation was under threat from powerful neighboring empires. Assyria was rising. War could break out at any moment. The people were anxious and afraid. Internally, things were not well either. Leaders were corrupt. Faith was shallow. Justice was weak. Many felt hopeless and powerless. They wondered if God had forgotten them. It sounds familiar. There is a clear parallel between the world Israel lived in and the world we live in today. We, too, feel uncertain and anxious in a world that feels too big to fix.

Into that darkness, and at the most unlikely time, God promised “peace.” God did not promise a new army, a stronger king, or a better system. God promised a child. A baby. “For a child is born to us, a son is given to us… and his name shall be: Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” God’s way of bringing peace begins not with power, but with presence. Not with force, but with a person – Jesus, the Prince of Peace. And What God promised, God fulfilled.

Peace Came (Luke 2:8-14)
When the time had fully come, Jesus came to us. He was born in Bethlehem – in a particular time, in a particular place. Peace entered the world quietly, humbly, personally. The angels announced peace to ordinary people – to lowly shepherds: “Don’t be afraid! I bring you good news of great joy for all the people! Today, your Savior, the Lord Messiah, was born in the town of David.” Suddenly, a great choir of angels filled the sky, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in heaven, and peace on earth!” Peace is not the absence of trouble, but the presence of Christ, the Prince of Peace. The shepherds’ circumstances did not change, but their hearts did. After encountering Christ, they returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen (Luke 2:20). Peace entered their lives quietly and personally.

Giovanni Bellini captures this truth beautifully in his painting Madonna of the Meadow. Mary holds the Christ child at the center of everyday life. Around her, life goes on. A farmer works hard in the field. Another rests, weary. Nearby, a bird struggles with a snake, showing how life can feel like a constant battle. Above them, a dark crow sits on a bare tree, reminding us that sorrow and death are never far away. The trouble remains. The life is still hard. Work and weariness. Joy and pain. Life and death existing side by side. And yet, at the center, the baby sleeps in peace. This shows us something important: Peace does not mean our problems disappear. Peace means Jesus is with us. When Christ is at the center of our lives, even in hard and tiring days, we can have real peace. And that peace would one day be secured, not in a cradle, but on a cross.

Peace Accomplished (Ephesians 2:14-18)
After about 33 years later, Mary once again held Jesus on her lap – this time, taken down from the cross. Michelangelo’s Pietà shows us how Jesus secured peace for us. Ephesians 2 tells the story this way:

“He tore down the wall we used to keep each other at a distance… Christ brought us together through his death on the Cross… He came and preached peace to you who were far away and peace to those who were near.” (cf. vv. 14–18)

One philosopher described humanity’s natural state as, “the war of all against all.” The Bible’s view is not very different. When sin entered the world, it brought sickness, brokenness, sorrow, hostility, and death. We became at odds with God, with others, and even with ourselves. This became our default condition. We have tried to achieve peace, but we could not. So Jesus did for us what we could not do for ourselves. On the cross, by his blood, he made peace with God and peace with one another. “It is finished,” Jesus said. Peace accomplished.

Peace Possible (Philippians 4:4-7)
Because peace is accomplished, it can now be experienced. Peace is not something we achieve; it is something we receive as God’s gift, because of the finished work of Christ.

The life of Horatio Spafford shows us that real peace is possible, even in the worst storms. He was a faithful Christian and a successful lawyer in Chicago. His life was full—family, work, and blessing. Then everything collapsed. His young son died. Soon after, the Great Chicago Fire destroyed nearly everything he owned. Hoping for healing, he sent his wife and four daughters on a ship to Europe, planning to join them later. Days later, a telegram arrived with two devastating words: “Saved alone.” The ship had sunk. All four daughters were gone. As Horatio crossed the same sea to meet his grieving wife, he prayed and wept. And there, in the deepest sorrow, God gave him a peace beyond words. Out of that moment came the hymn we still sing: “When peace like a river attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roll… it is well, it is well with my soul.” Peace did not come because the pain was gone. Peace came because Christ was present.

This is the peace the gospel offers us. Not a pain-free life, but a guarded heart. Not answers to every “why,” but a faithful God who abides with us. Scripture tells us how we receive this peace: “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.” We come humbly. We turn back to God. We pour out our hearts before Him. We ask, we trust, we give thanks, even through tears. “And the peace of Christ, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” Peace was promised. Peace came. Peace was accomplished. And tonight, peace is possible. The peace of Christ be with you. Amen.

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[1] “2025: Year in Review,” The Associated Press (Dec 16, 2025), https://vimeo.com/1147278858?fl=pl&fe=cm

“Mighty God, Everlasting Father” (Isaiah 9:6; Romans 8:15-18)

 

Awe
The person of our Lord Jesus Christ is deep and wide. He is rich and complex. As followers of Christ, each time we mediate on God’s Word, we see wonderful things in it, and we discover that Christ becomes a little bigger and a little greater to us. It reminds me of Lucy’s experience with Aslan (the Christ figure) in C. S. Lewis’s Chronicles of Narnia, as she gazes once again into his large and wise face.

"Welcome, child,” Aslan said.
“Aslan,” said Lucy, “you’re bigger.”
“That is because you are older, little one,” answered he.
“Not because you are?”
“I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger.”[1]

My prayer is that as we mediate on the names of Jesus this Christmas season, we may find Christ bigger and greater, standing in awe of him and trusting him more.

Mighty God
Through the lips of the prophet Isaiah, the identity of Christ is revealed. “His name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” Last week we reflected on Jesus as our Wonderful Counselor. Today, we meet Jesus as Mighty God and Everlasting Father.

Jesus is Mighty God. The Bible testifies clearly to this truth. He turned water into wine. He healed a man who had been an invalid for 38 years. He fed the five thousand. He walked on water. He raised Lazarus from the dead. And in our own lives, we experience his might as well. We have been saved. Marriages are restored. Churches are healed. All by the mighty work of Jesus.

Yet, most often, Jesus’ might does not appear in mighty or dramatic ways. It reveals itself through weakness, humility, and mercy. The Norwegian artist Edvard Munch captures this beautifully in his painting The Sick Child. Munch lost his older sister Sophie to tuberculosis when she was only 15 years old. He returned again and again to this painful memory in his art. In the painting, Sophie is on her deathbed, suffering from pain, propped by a large while pillow. She gazes towards a curtain, likely a symbol of death. And yet, for some reason, her face is peaceful, almost radiant. Why?

When we look carefully, we notice an older woman holding Sophie’s hand. We sense her desperation, her helplessness, and her deep love. This painting reminds us of Shusaku Endo’s novel The Shore of the Dead Sea. In this story, Jesus does not appear as the Mighty God. He appears as an ordinary man. People come to him asking for miracles, but he does not have the power to perform them. Instead, he stays close to the sick and the abandoned. He grieves with them. He spends the night beside them, keeping watch in compassion.

When Jesus was crucified, people shouted, “If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross. And we will believe.” They mocked him, saying, “He saved others, but he cannot save himself.” On the cross, Jesus performed no miracle. And yet, it was the greatest and most powerful miracle of all – the miracle of love. He didn’t come down from the cross. Instead, he humbled himself, he emptied himself, he died a criminal’s death on the cross. He became sin for us, so that we might become his righteousness. Jesus, the Mighty God, died once to break the power of sin, but now he lives forever!

Everlasting Father
That leads to his next name – Everlasting Father. Jesus is everlasting – “who is, and who was, and who is to come.” (Revelation 1:8) And Jesus is Father. Here we shouldn’t be confused. Jesus is not God the Father. Though God is one, God exists as three distinct persons – Father, Son, Holy Spirit. So in what sense is Jesus a Father? We sometimes call George Washington is the father of the country. In that sense, Jesus is a father – the head and source of God’s kingdom.

Adam was the father of humanity, but he failed. In Adam we all died. But Jesus, the second Adam, prevailed. He succeeded where Adam failed, and he became the Father of a new humanity. In Christ, we are made alive. Paul tells us in Romans 8:15, “You have received adoption to sonship… crying out, ‘Abba, Father.’” Here the Greek word for “adoption to sonship” is a legal term, huiothesia (υἱοθεσία). In Roman culture, when a wealthy man had no heir, he would adopt an adult male and grant him full rights, full status, and full inheritance. At first, “sonship” may sound exclusive or gender-insensitive. But in fact, it’s radically inclusive. A Christian sister once shared that she grew up in a deeply patriarchal culture. Her family had one son and several daughters. As a daughter, she was always treated as a second-class citizen. But when she read Romans 8, she was stunned. In God’s family, there are no second-class children.

We are all sons. We are all heirs. In other words, because of what Christ has done for us, we receive the same inheritance Jesus received - his glory and even his suffering. But Scripture reminds us that our present suffering is nothing compared to our future glory. Imagine two men given the exact same job. They must work 12 hours a day, 7 days a week, doing a boring, repetitive job, with no vacation. At the end, the first man will receive $10,000. The second man knows he will receive $10 billion. Within a week, the first man would say, “I can’t take this anymore. I quit!” But the second man would endure every hardship so willingly, because he knows what’s coming. That is the difference between present suffering and future glory. And all of this is possible because of Jesus Christ – our leader, our shepherd, our Everlasting Father.

Living Sacrifice
So what is our proper response? The conclusion of Romans is clear and strong:

“I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship” (Romans 12:1, NRSV).

Let me offer one illustration. Eric Liddell, the famous Olympic runner, was expected to win the gold medal in the 100 meters. But when he learned that the race was scheduled on Sunday, he chose not to run. His competitor, Harold Abrahams, who went on to win the gold, said something striking: “I must justify my whole existence in ten seconds.” Even after winning, his heart was not at rest.

Eric Liddell lived by a different conviction. He once said to his sister, “When I run, I feel God’s pleasure.” Eric presented his body—his whole being—as a living sacrifice. He used his athletic gifts not to prove himself, but to honor God and to share Christ’s love with others.

Today, we celebrate Consecration Sunday. This is much more than just a financial stewardship campaign. It is a moment to ask a deeper question: What gifts will we bring? Not only our money, but our bodies. Not only our abilities, but our availability. Not just our strength, but even our weakness. And most of all, our very lives.

Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were a present far too small.
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all. 

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[1] C. S. Lewis, Prince Caspian (London, Collins, n.d.), 124. quoted in Hughes, R. Kent. John: That You May Believe (Crossway), 483.

“Wonderful Counselor” (Isaiah 9:6; Hebrews 3:7-13)

What Is Your Name?
My Korean name is “SeungRi” which means “victory.” My sister’s name is “Jilee,” meaning “truth.” When they named us, their prayer was simple and bold: “May truth prevail.”

Names carry meaning. A name sums up a person’s character. It declares who the person is. So when the Messiah’s birth was foretold, his identity was revealed through his name: Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Starting today, and throughout Advent, we will explore who Jesus is through these names.

Wonderful Counselor
Jesus is our Wonderful Counselor. In Isaiah 9:6 the closest meaning of this phrase “wonderful counselor” is supernatural heart-changer. What does that mean? Hebrews 3 gives us insight. In verse 13, the writer exhorts, “Encourage each other daily.” Here, the word translated “encourage” is from the Greek word, παρακαλέω (parakaleō). As Tim Keller points out, the closest New Testament concept of parakaleo is “counseling” – not casual encouragement, but deep, ongoing, heart-shaping counsel. “Counsel each other daily,” he says.

Have you ever felt, “Why do I change so slowly?” Have you ever felt discouraged by your chronic struggles or long-standing hangups? Dr. Martin Llyod-Jones gives a powerful illustration. Imagine a city held captive under a cruel king for generations. A new, good king comes and sets the people free. Their legal status changes instantly—they are free. But they continue to live like slaves. They still fear the old captors. They still respond to the old voices. Their status changed, but their mindset did not. What is the cure for this? They must be reminded again and again who they are now.

In the same way, God set Israel free from Egypt with his mighty acts. But in the wildness, Israel had to learn how to live as free people – God’s people. Their legal status was “set free,” but their hearts still operated like slaves. So God gave them a new way of life, the Ten Commandments. And God led them daily by the pillar of cloud and fire. Daily they needed God’s counseling. Daily they needed to be reminded who they are.

The Bible says our spiritual life is a journey through the wilderness. And just like Israel, we need daily counseling and daily guidance. Because in the wilderness of life, filled with its challenges and temptations, our hearts so easily become hardened, dry, cynical, bitter, even rebellious. We desperately need the Wonderful Counselor, the supernature heart-changer.

To Martha, To Mary
Jesus is our Wonderful Counselor. One of the clearest pictures of this is in John 11, at the funeral of Lazarus. When Jesus arrived, he was greeted by Lazarus’ sisters – first by Martha, then by Mary. Both sisters said the exact same words to him: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother wouldn’t have died.” (vv. 21, 32) Martha said it. Mary said it. The words were identical. The grief was the same. The loss was the same. But Jesus responded to each of them so differently, because he knew what their hearts and knew their deepest needs. To Martha, Jesus challenged her faith and declared truth. “I am the resurrection and the life.” He spoke firmly. He strengthened her. He pulled her out of despair and called her into hope. He gave her the ministry of truth. To Mary, Jesus said nothing. He simply wept. He entered her sorrow. He let her grief draw him into tears. He gave her the ministry of presence.

Some of us, by nature, are “truth-tellers.” We see problems, analyze them, and explain solutions. But truth without tenderness often feels harsh or cold. People shut down. They don’t’ feel heard. Some of us are “weeper.” We feel deeply with those who are hurting. We sit with them. We comfort. But without truth, without guidance, people may not grow. Pain is shared, but little healing or growth happens.

We need both – truth and compassion, challenge and comfort. Every parent knows this. If we only speak truth to our children, we become judgmental and harsh, and they grow angry or distant. But if we only sympathize and never correct, they become undisciplined and lost. We need both truth and love. Jesus, our Wonderful Counselor, embodies both perfectly.

Truth and Love
One of the best examples we see in the Bible is the story of the woman caught in adultery in John 8. The Pharisees wanted to stone her. Jesus said to them, “The sinless one among you, go first: Throw the stone.” (John 8:7 MSG) One by one, they all left. Then, Jesus turned to her and said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more.” (v. 11)

Notice the order. If Jesus held only to truth, he would say: “Stop sinning, then I won’t condemn you.” If he held only to compassion, he would say: “No one’s perfect. You’re fine. Don’t worry about it.” But he does neither. He says, “I don’t condemn you. Now go and sin no more.”

She was guilty, but he did not condemn her. How is that possible? Because He was going to take the condemnation. It is as if he says to her: “Sister, you are not being stoned today because I will be. I will take the stones, I will take the nails, I will take the crown of thorns. I will take what you deserve, so you can receive what I deserve.” On the cross, Jesus paid the price for our sin. He upheld God’s justice – truth. And on the cross, he extended God’s mercy – love. On the cross, perfect truth and perfect compassion were perfectly intermingled. This is why Jesus is our Wonderful Counselor.

Master Plan
Our life truly is a journey through the wilderness – a desert that cannot sustain the soul. Without the daily ministry of Jesus – his truth and his compassion – our hearts will slowly and surely harden. But when we receive his daily counseling, he restores us, strengthens us, transforms us.

As I close, I want to share C. S. Lewis’ beautiful illustration:

“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; … but presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably … The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of… you thought you were being made into a decent little cottage; but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.”

This is God’s master plan for us in Christ. His goal is not merely our happiness, but our holiness. Not simply to improve us here and there, patch a leak, fix a crack, but to transform us into the likeness of Christ.

So come to Jesus and receive his counseling daily. Let him speak truth into your confusion. Let him pour compassion into your sorrow. Let him be your Wonderful Counselor – your supernatural heart-changer. And then, by his grace and truth, let us become his voice to one another – counseling, encouraging, and guiding one another – so that together we may arrive the Promised Land safe and sound. Amen.