Peace Begins Here

Focus Statement

Peace doesn’t begin in the headlines, the flag, or the fight.

Peace begins at the table—

where Christ breaks the bread, and breaks down the walls.

Point of Relation

On this holiday weekend, we opened with America the Beautiful—

a hymn that names the beauty of this land, yes, but also its brokenness.

“God mend thine every flaw.”

That’s not nationalism.

Nationalism says: “We’re chosen. We’re exceptional. We’re always right.”

But this hymn doesn’t do that.

It confesses. It dreams. It prays.

The early church knew that tension well.

They lived under the shadow of Rome,

where emperors were worshiped and the state expected total loyalty.

To say “Jesus is Lord” wasn’t just a personal belief—

it was a public refusal. A refusal to bow to the powers of empire.

And they paid for it.

They rejected civil religion to follow Christ—

and it cost them their safety, their standing, sometimes their lives.

But they kept gathering.

Not around a flag or a throne—but around a table.

And that is still where peace begins.

Things to Consider

We hear a lot about peace—

but too often it’s just noise.

Real peace isn’t found in pride or performance.

It begins when we surrender—

our fear, our division, our need to be right.

Peace begins where grace is shared.

What Scripture Says

Friends, take note:

Paul doesn’t begin with politics or policy.

He begins with peace—peace not as a theory or idea, but as a person.

Christ himself is our peace.

Through his body, through the cross,

he dismantled the wall that once stood between Jew and Gentile,

insider and outsider.

He didn’t just ease the tension—he put hostility to death.

The division that once seemed necessary or justified no longer has a place.

Peace has already been made.

We don’t create it; we live into it.

And Paul doesn’t stop there.

In 2 Corinthians 5:18–20, he writes that God has entrusted us with the ministry of reconciliation.

We’ve been invited into the work—not as spectators, but as ambassadors.

Not in theory, but in flesh and practice.

That’s what this table is about. Communion isn’t just about memory—

it’s about movement.

We come here not just to be comforted, but to be changed.

The dividing wall didn’t fall so we could build new ones.

It fell so we could become one body.

Peace doesn’t begin with nations or slogans or songs.

Peace begins here.

What This Means for You

You don’t have to fix the world to live in peace.

But you do have to show up.

Maybe today, that means setting something down—

an old grudge, a quiet resentment, the need to be right.

Maybe it just means showing up to the table, open.

Because peace doesn’t start out there. It starts in you.

What This Means for Us

We are not just guests at Christ’s table—we are stewards of his peace.

That means the way we live, love

and lead must reflect the One who tore the wall down.

In a world still building new ones,

let this church be a place where peace takes root. Amen? Amen.

Written by Rev. Todd R. Lattig with the assistance of ChatGPT (OpenAI).