Seeking Peace Beyond Certainty

A couple of years ago, I was accused by a conservative Christian online of espousing a form of Christianity he described as "easy-believism."  

I'd heard that term before from my fundamentalist Christian days, and I knew what it meant.  

He was saying that I was teaching people that grace was for everyone, God doesn't mind if we doubt, and that you don't have to leave your brain at the door to study the Bible or be a part of a church.  

The problem with the phrase he employed is that it's absolutely wrong.  

My life of faith was a lot easier when everything was simple and certain, doubts and questions were not allowed, and all that was required was blind belief.  

Holding on to a narrow set of beliefs, claiming certainty in them, and reading the Bible literally is the best definition of "easy-believism" you can muster. 

Certainty in belief is not only driving the train in so much of what passes for Christianity these days, but it has also crept into our social and political discourse, and the end result is a lack of the healing that peace can bring.    

Canadian philosopher and theologian Jean Vanier once wrote: 

“Peace is the fruit of love, a love that is also justice. But to grow in love requires work -- hard work. And it can bring pain because it implies loss -- loss of the certitudes, comforts, and hurts that shelter and define us.”

Our culture is deeply fractured, and many of us instinctively reach for security in the form of walls, opinions, possessions, or rigid certainties. We cling to them because they feel safe. 

Yet Vanier’s wisdom reminds us that peace doesn’t come from clinging but from letting go. It’s not built upon what shields us, but upon love—and love always demands courage, humility, and sometimes painful surrender.

Scripture echoes this truth. The prophet Isaiah tells us, “You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you” (Isaiah 26:3). Peace does not emerge from our ability to control outcomes or win arguments, but from trusting God. 

Jesus himself dismantled the false securities of his time—status, wealth, even religious legalism—teaching instead, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God” (Matthew 5:9).

Seeking peace means risking vulnerability. It means stepping beyond the comfort of our entrenched divisions, whether political, social, or personal, and daring to love across boundaries. 

Paul reminded the church in Ephesus that Christ “is our peace, who has made the two groups one and has destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility” (Ephesians 2:14). Peace, then, is not passive. It is active reconciliation, rooted in love that insists on justice and refuses to let hatred win.

The paradox is clear: peace requires loss. Loss of our certainties. Loss of our need to be right. Loss of the grudges that once gave us identity. Yet what feels like loss becomes gain, because in releasing these things we discover the freedom and spaciousness of God’s love.

Friends, may you have the courage to loosen your grip on what keeps you from peace. Let go of the certitudes that confine you. Trust that God’s love is stronger than division, fear, or hostility. In that trust, you will find peace—true peace, the fruit of love and justice.

Prayer
God of peace, help me release the false securities I cling to and trust instead in your love. Teach me the hard work of love that brings justice, and let your Spirit shape me into a peacemaker. Amen.

Reflection Questions

1. What certitudes or comforts do I rely on that may keep me from experiencing true peace?

2. How might God be inviting me to practice love as justice in my relationships or community?

3. Where can I become a peacemaker by letting go of hostility and trusting God’s love?