When God Draws Near

When God Dreams of Peace

I. The Tension Between What Is and What Could Be

What do you see?

We live in a world exhausted by conflict, division, and fractures in every direction. Peace feels naïve. Peace feels fragile. The headlines preach despair; our hearts echo it.

But biblical peace is not naïve or blind. It is not wishful thinking or spiritual optimism. It is rooted in the God who brings life out of ruins.

Peace does not rise from possibility; peace rises from God’s presence.

A pilgrim song sung by weary travelers walking out of broken villages. Their towns lay in ruins. Their land was bruised. Yet—they traveled up. The ascent toward Jerusalem was physical, yes, but also spiritual: worship lifts our eyes beyond the debris beneath our feet.

Theology of architecture in the same way a sanctuary accomplishes this task, it forces us to look above our circumstances. We are not looking down to our feet standing in the muck and mire, and we do not see our hands empty and desperate. They ascended, as do we, tired, hungry, weary, carrying the promise of hope in our hearts.

II. Illustration: The Junkyard and the Pearls

My father once took me to a junkyard. He loved classic cars. He walked those rusted rows like an art critic in a gallery—not looking at what was, but what could be.

He said:

“Anyone can walk through a junkyard and see dents, rust, and broken pieces. Very few can walk through it and see the potential.”

Most see piles of what used to be. But someone with vision sees possibility buried beneath damage.

This is how God sees the world. This is how God sees us.

We see rubble; God sees resurrection. We see junkyards; God sees workshops. We see dents and damage; God sees His glory waiting to emerge.

And this is the turning point: Without God’s presence, peace is impossible. With God’s presence, peace is inevitable.

Which brings us to the Scriptures that reveal God’s dream of peace rising out of the world’s rubble.

III. Exegeting the Texts

Psalm 122 and Isaiah 2 stand like twin mountain peaks in Scripture—texts where weary people dare to speak of peace while standing in the shadow of ruins. These are not naïve songs. These are not gentle garden poems. These songs rise in a world torn by sin, violence, exile, and fear.

Yet into that rubble, God reveals His dream.

The pilgrims ascending to Jerusalem sing:

“I was glad…”

Glad—not because life was easy. Glad—not because circumstances were stable. Glad—because drawing near to God brings a peace that the world cannot give.

Jerusalem becomes a symbol of unity— “a city bound firmly together.” Not because its architecture was perfect, but because God dwelled there.

Peace in Psalm 122 is not circumstantial; it is relational. It flows from Presence, not place.

As the psalm lifts our hearts through worship, Isaiah lifts our eyes through revelation.

Isaiah sees it: The nations are no longer running downhill into violence— they are streaming uphill toward the presence of God.

That does not happen through human ambition. It is the work of God drawing the world to Himself.

1. A Word Spoken into Ruins

Isaiah is not preaching to a triumphant nation. He speaks into moral collapse, political corruption, and spiritual coldness.

Yet amid that rubble, he sees mountains rising. Hope in Isaiah is not denial—it is defiant resurrection spoken before resurrection is seen.

2. The Mountain of the Lord

“Come, let us go up…” the nations say.

This mountain teaches us:

Peace is not manufactured; it is revealed.

Peace is not found below; it descends from above.

Peace is not negotiated; it flows from God’s authority.

This is prevenient grace on a global scale: God awakening a violent world to desire peace.

3. God’s Word Rebuilds the World

The nations come so that God “may teach us His ways.”

The world doesn’t need better diplomacy or smarter politics. It needs a new Teacher.

4. Swords Into Plowshares

Then comes one of the most powerful promises in Scripture:

Weapons become agricultural tools. Violence becomes cultivation. War becomes worship.

Not because humanity finally “figured it out.” But because the King has taken His rightful place.

Isaiah sees the day when the Prince of Peace reigns— a day Advent tells us has begun in Christ.

Transition Into Exegesis

So before we rush too quickly into familiar lines—“I was glad when they said unto me…”—we must allow these texts to speak from their original soil. They call us to slow down, to climb with the pilgrims, to listen with the prophets, and to see what God is revealing:

Not just the peace we want, but the peace only God can give.

With that frame in place, we turn first to Psalm 122, the song of a weary traveler who discovers that hope rises not from the road beneath his feet but from the God who waits at the journey’s end.

Psalm 122 invites us into the lived experience of hope for peace—peace born not from improved conditions but from entering the presence of God.

B. Isaiah 2:1–5 – God Lifts the Ruins Into Resurrection

Where the psalmist lifts our hearts through worship, the prophet lifts our eyes through revelation.

Both texts speak peace—but they speak it from different angles. Psalm 122 gives us the experience of peace. Isaiah 2 gives us the architecture of peace—God’s blueprint for a world set right.

And now we step into that prophetic mountain vision.

B. Isaiah 2 – The Mountain Where God Plants Hope

Isaiah 2 opens with a breathtaking reversal: the nations are no longer running downhill into violence; they are streaming uphill toward the presence of God.

This is not human ambition. It is divine invitation. A world that once raced toward war now moves toward worship.

1. A Word Spoken into Ruins

Isaiah is not writing from a season of national strength. He is preaching into a fractured people, a corrupt leadership, and a religious life gone cold. He stands amid moral and political ruins— yet he sees mountains rising.

Hope in Isaiah is not denial. It is defiance. It is resurrection spoken before resurrection is seen.

2. The Mountain of the Lord

The imagery of “the mountain of the Lord” tells us:

Peace is not manufactured; it is revealed.

Peace is not discovered at the bottom; it is given from above.

Peace is not the result of human diplomacy; it is the fruit of divine authority.

The nations “stream” upward—against gravity, against history, against human instinct. Why? Because God is drawing them.

Wesley would call this prevenient grace on a global scale: God awakening a violent world to desire peace.

3. The Word That Rebuilds the World

“They will say, ‘Come, let us go up… that He may teach us His ways.’”

The world doesn’t just need less conflict; it needs a new teacher.

God teaches His ways.

God judges between the nations.

God settles disputes.

And what human governments cannot fix with armies or treaties, God fixes with a Word.

4. Swords into Plowshares

This is not poetry—it is promise.

Isaiah does not say: “We will beat our swords into plowshares.”

He says: “He shall judge… and then they will beat their swords…”

The transformation of weapons into instruments of life happens because God Himself has intervened.

Peace comes after the King takes His rightful place. When God reigns, violence becomes agriculture, and war becomes worship. Isaiah speaks to a nation morally, spiritually, and politically wrecked—yet God gives him a vision of resurrection.

Human Condition: When Peace Feels Out of Reach

Isaiah shows us what happens when God takes the throne that has always been His: Peace comes after the King takes His rightful place. When God reigns, violence a seeking of death becomes agriculture a cultivation toward life, and war becomes worship.

But Isaiah does not speak this vision to a triumphant nation. He delivers it to a people morally exhausted, spiritually fractured, and politically collapsing. Into their wreckage, God gives a vision—not of escape, but of resurrection. A world remade. A people restored. A future governed by the peace of God and not the panic of humanity.

Yet before such peace can take root in us, we must acknowledge something essential: the problem is not only out there in the world; it is also in here, in the human heart. Yes—God will intervene. Yes—the world will one day respond. But the immediate reality is this: we look at the chaos around us and feel the whisper, “This is not for us… for the LORD is our portion.”

And before any soul can truly declare that, before we can rest in that promise, we must face the things within us that keep God’s peace at arm’s length. Scripture tells us that peace is a gift (John 14:27)— but a gift can be resisted, ignored, or unopened.

So Isaiah’s vision leads us back to our own condition: What keeps us from receiving the very peace God longs to give?

These are the inner barriers— the qualities, wounds, and distortions— that block the soul from the peace of God. God will intervene and the world will respond. The reality before us will be as we look upon all that is and say this is not for us, for the LORD is our portion.

Before the soul can declare, “The Lord is my portion,” we must be honest about the things that keep us from experiencing His peace. Scripture tells us that God’s peace is a gift (John 14:27), but many of us find it difficult to receive because something in us resists it.

These are the inner barriers, both qualities and conditions, that stand between us and the peace God longs to give:

1. The Illusion of Control

We convince ourselves that if we just manage harder, plan better, hold tighter, we can secure peace. But control is a cruel counterfeit—it promises stability while breeding anxiety.

2. Misplaced Trust

We place our hope in: • circumstances, • finances, • health, • leaders, • or even our own strength. When any of these wobble, peace collapses with them.

3. Emotional Exhaustion

Weariness distorts reality. Fatigue makes fear feel bigger, problems feel heavier, and God’s nearness feel distant.

4. Wounded Places in the Heart

Unresolved grief, bitterness, betrayal, and disappointments create internal noise that peace cannot speak through until it is brought into the light.

5. Fear of the Unknown

Fear inflates the future, turning possibility into paralysis. Peace becomes impossible when fear becomes the narrator of our story.

6. Shame and Self-Condemnation

Many Christians believe God forgives… but struggle to believe God forgives them. Shame robs the heart of rest.

7. Constant Comparison

When we measure our worth by someone else’s highlight reel, envy and insecurity grow—and peace evaporates.

8. Spiritual Distraction

We live hurried, scattered lives. Crowded hearts have no room for Christ’s peace to settle.

9. Cynicism

Cynicism calls optimism naive and hope irresponsible. It closes the door before God even has a chance to speak peace.

10. The Noise of the World

The disruptions of politics, media, war, tragedy, and conflict saturate us with fear and outrage—drowning out the quiet voice of the Shepherd.

Transition to The Lord Is My Portion

And so, Lamentations confronts us with something countercultural and deeply liberating:

Peace does not come when we secure our circumstances. Peace comes when God secures our hearts.

When everything else was taken away… When Jerusalem lay in ruins… When nothing felt stable or safe… The author discovered a truth that cannot be shaken:

“The Lord is my portion… therefore I will hope.”

Because when God is our portion, He becomes: our peace, our anchor, our resurrection in ruin.

And that touches every place in our lives…

IV. The Lord Is My Portion

And it’s there—in that honest inventory of our own hearts—that the book of Lamentations speaks with impossible clarity.

Jerusalem is in ruins. Hope is buried under ash. Every earthly source of security has been stripped away.

Yet from the rubble comes this declaration:

“The Lord is my portion… therefore I will hope.”

Optimism says, “It will get better.” Hope says, “God will bring life even if everything collapses.”

From a ruined Jerusalem, Lamentations declares: “The Lord is my portion… therefore I will hope.”

Peace does not come when we secure our circumstances. Peace comes when God secures our hearts.

When God is our portion, He becomes:

our peace,

our anchor,

our resurrection in ruin.

And this touches every place in our lives:

A. In relationships

the rusted places of broken trust.

B. In our community

division, hostility, fear.

C. In our souls

inner unrest, anxiety, grief.

D. In the world

wars, nations in turmoil.

Where we see junkyards, God sees pearls.

V. When God Draws Near, Peace Takes Shape

Peace becomes real when:

surrender replaces control,

stillness replaces anxiety,

the Lord—not success or stability—becomes our portion.

A. God restores what we believed was beyond repair. B. Christ Himself is God’s peace—ruin meets resurrection at the Cross. C. Peace is not a place; it is a Person drawing near.

This transformation is not private; it reshapes families, congregations, and communities. God forms a people who practice peace because they have encountered Him.

VI. Conclusion – Walk in the Light of God’s Vision

A. Lift your eyes—look again. B. Let God teach you to see as He sees. C. God still steps into the junkyards of the world… and He still finds pearls.

Peace is not the absence of trouble; it is the presence of God.

God dreams of peace for His people—peace that turns weapons into plowshares and ruins into resurrection sites.

The prayer of Psalm 122 becomes our prayer: “Peace be within your walls… for the sake of the house of the Lord our God.”

The vision of Isaiah becomes our call: “Come, let us walk in the light of the Lord.”