I recently read an interesting quote about Buddhism’s impact on real world problems. Check this out. ”Christmas Humpreys, an influential Western Buddhist, admits…’It may be asked, what contribution Buddhism is making to world problems, national problems, social problems, appearing among every group of men. The answer is clear as it is perhaps unique. Comparatively speaking, none.”[1]

I’ve long wondered why Christianity seems to be able to so successfully generate an enormous number of mercy-oriented ministries, organizations, and movements that serve both man and beast. Why did Christianity produce so many educational institutions, hospitals, prison ministries, anti-poverty movements, and more while competing worldviews like Buddhism seem unable or unwilling to do so? It’s not that they don’t make the attempt, it’s that they are just so darn infrequent and invisible. If Buddhism was truly a mercy-oriented system, why hasn’t it generated such things at a level competitive with Christianity?

It turns out that the answer is also provided by Humpreys, “The reason is clear. One man at peace within lives happily.”[2] In other words, when your system of philosophy is “self” centered the motivation for such mercy-oriented movements is, to echo Humpreys’ words, comparatively, none.

In contrast to the “self” centeredness of buddhist movitations, apologists John Ankerberg and John Weldon note that, ”We never ask, ‘Why is there so much good in the world?’ It is always, ‘Why is there so much evil in the world?’ We know that evil is an abberation in a universe whose Ruler is good and righteous.”[3]

Ankerberg and Weldon are correct. We instinctively know that something is wrong with the world (sin, and the suffering caused by sin), but it should be good because we have a good Creator. Creation is supposed to reflect the goodness of the Creator. In many ways it does. But in the case of man our behavior often reflects that which is not good, and thus not from a good Creator. As Christians we recognize that something must be done about this inequity since we are motivated by God’s goodness, just as the scripture says, “Be holy for I am holy.”[4] We want to bring order, and justice, and good to the world because God’s character reflects these good things. The Apostle Peter notes our motivation. After quoting the “be holy” passage from Leviticus he says, “You have in obedience to the truth purified your souls for a sincere love of the brethren, fervently love one another from the heart”[5] (emphasis mine).

I’ll never forget the story my daughter’s told me about an experience they had in Mongolia. They were walking home with friends one evening in the freezing sub-zero temperatures of Ulaanbaatar when they came across a teenager who had been beaten to a pulp. He was on the sidewalk bleeding profusely, unable to stand, with hundreds of people strolling by him. The kids tried to get the attention of a police officer to help the young man, but he simply laughed at them. Everyone walking by steered clear. Not a single person would stop to help. It was a scene reminiscent of the Good Samaritan. Then a buddhist monk happened by, but he too walked right passed them, electing not to stop. There was no mercy. In true Good Samaritan form these Christian teenagers did all they could to try to help the young man, with one of the girls even removing her coat and putting it on the bleeding, freezing teen. She walked home, freezing.

Every religious system inculcates in its followers a model that is to be emulated. For Buddhism the model is Siddhartha Gautama. But for Christians the model is supremely different—Jesus Christ. He wrapped himself inside humanity and suffered as one of us while at the same time rising above us in ethics and glory. Just as those teenagers tried to save the life of a stranger and gave sacrificially to try to revive him, so too Christ did what was necessary to save us by giving of himself through the ultimate sacrifice and suffering.

Where are the Buddhist mercy-oriented movements? I’m sure there are a small number out there. But the model necessary to motivate such things isn’t found in Buddhism’s core. So as Humpreys’ notes it is comparatively, none. Thank God we have a model in the Savior, Jesus Christ who motivates those who love him truly, differently.

1. In F.L. Woodward, Trans., Some Sayings of the Buddha (New York: Oxford University Press 1973), p. X.X.I.I.
2. Ibid
3. Encyclopedia of Cults and New Religions, John Ankerberg and John Weldon, “Buddhism and Nichiren Shoshu Buddhism,” page 62.
4. Leviticus 11:44
5. I Peter 1:22

If there is group of people that might be described as “seekers,” then Buddhists must be high on the list. Buddhism, as a system, requires its adherent to be devoted to exploring a set of principles that will earn him or her an enlightened state that they hope will lead to the end of suffering—a noble and worthwhile goal. Those who explore the Buddhist path are taught concepts such as: The Middle Way, Samsara, The Four Noble Truths, and others.

Yet on a practical, day-to-day level, many Buddhists inwardly struggle. They feel spiritually empty, as if the practices they engage in provide some temporary satisfaction or guidance, but when over, the emptiness or futility remains. While they pursue the path they are taught the Buddha has lain out, they secretly wonder about the reality of the Buddha’s teachings. Being taught that they will experience many rebirths until finally reaching their objective, they cannot help but wonder, “Will this truly end my suffering? How can I know that what I am doing really works?”

For the next few weeks I want to explore together some key ideas in Buddhism. I attempt to compare Buddhist principles to the teachings of the Bible and Jesus Christ in hopes of helping the Buddhist seeker, discover a different kind of enlightenment—one that can be fully experienced and realized in this life, right now, without the need for what may seem like a tumultuous cycle of rebirth.

For the next few weeks we will very consider the Buddhist and Christian teachings on:

• The World Around Us
• The Seen and the Unseen
• The Middle Way and The High Way, and
• Experiencing Truth

Then I will present a short presentation called: Four Higher Truths, which will contrast the Buddha’s Four Noble Truths with a meaningful presentation of the Gospel. So let’s begin with our first installment.

The World Around Us

What is the nature of reality? How can we tell that what we experience is primarily an experience that comes from our own perceptions or is a part of true existence? If our reality is defined by our perceptions, how can we know when our perceptions give us accurate information about the world around us or even our own existence? If our perceptions of reality are problematic, then how do we address the even more important issues involving eternity?

To its credit, Buddhism tries to address the questions of reality and perception. Many Buddhists have found meaning and solace in Buddhist teachings (or debate) about the nature of the world around us. At first a person who is unfamiliar with Buddhist concepts may struggle. In fact, many Buddhists themselves struggle with these ideas. Whole schools of competing Buddhist thought have arisen to address the nature of reality.

For our purposes together, let us address the core of Buddhist ideas about the world around us:

• The evidence of reality presented to us by our senses is faulty. Human perception of the world is mistaken,(1)
• “Everything is part of an ultimate, impersonal ground of existence which is neither good nor evil,”(2)
• Good, evil, truth, and falsehood are mistaken perceptions (or conventions), which have no absolute meaning.

These ideas about reality are foundational to Buddhism’s attempt to address humanity’s ultimate problems. Let’s address these issues together and also discover how Jesus Christ addressed these issues in His teaching. First, let’s apply some common sense—and science—to the Buddhist teachings about reality and perception.

Sense & Senses

As I type these words I see them on my computer screen. By doing this I am making the assumption that you who are reading it are also seeing the same words that I typed. In fact I’m also assuming you have access to a computer, the Internet, can input a website address, find this page, and read this article. You are doing the same thing that thousands of people have done before you, and will after you. All of us share a common set of perceptions that allows us to have a certain degree of unity in our experience of writing and reading—or any other experience. Let’s call this our unity of perception.

Sight in an important part of our perceptive abilities. What we see can be pleasurable or frightening. It can foster longing or fear. What we see is also an important part of our learning process and contributes heavily to the assumptions we make together. And—together—is the point I’d like to make. If you sit in a group with a printed version and all read together from the page, you will all read the same thing. Your perception about what words are written, are the same. It is this unity of perception that encourages us that what we are reading really exists, and that by implication, it has a writer who also exists. The same may be said of the world. We have a unity of perception about the world around us. We do not all experience different realities generated by our minds like hallucinations—”self generated sensory experiences.”(3) Nor are our perceptions, illusions. “Cognitive illusions come about because the brain is full of prejudices: habits of thought, knee-jerk emotional reactions and automatic orders of perception.(4)

“Ah, but wait,” you might say. “Isn’t that part of what Buddhism refers to, cognitive prejudices, etc.?” In some ways, yes. But the idea that our perceptions create an illusion of what the nature of the world is like, must disregard the unity of perception that we all share. This leaves us with one of two choices: Humanity’s unity of perception is itself, illusionary, or our unity of perception provides evidence that our experiences and the world around us are real. Which is the case?

Saying that our perception of the shared unity of perception is illusionary is the same as saying our illusion is illusionary—i.e. our we do not experience illusion. It is self-defeating and leaves us only with our second option. Our perceptions are real. In fact, our perceptions are not only real, but our brains naturally anticipate the reality around us allowing us to experience it according to reality. Our brains know that what our senses deliver to it is real. “An act of perception is a lot more than capturing an act of incoming stimulus. It requires a form of expectation, of knowing what is about to confront us, and preparing for it. Without expectations, or constructs through which we perceive our world, our surroundings would be…confusion. Each experience would truly be a new one, rapidly overwhelming us.”(5) Where do those “constructs” come from? From the previous real-world experiences we have had!

This does not mean that we do not sometimes have faulty perceptions about the world around us, or our nature. In fact, the very thrust of the argument presented here is that Buddhism is a perceptive filter that presents an illusion about the nature of existence.

The Nature of Existence

If our perceptions about the world around us are faulty, and there is another truth underneath what we perceive, then, our perceptions about how to live in the world are also colored by our misperceptions. Could this be true? Let’s turn again to our unity of perception.

Everyone has some kind of concept of right and wrong, good and evil. We all share common perceptions, that there are certain things that are good, and certain things that are evil. Personal preference and culture permit varying degrees in our agreement over what is right and wrong. But the fact stands that there still remains the concept of good and evil, right and wrong.

According to Buddhist thought the issue of what is right and wrong is nothing more than a convention without absolute authority or substance. This teaching, in point of fact, leaves the adherent with the idea that what is good and evil cannot be ultimately defined since good and evil are illisionary. Let’s present it this way:

Is a belief in absolute good and evil, a right belief or a wrong belief?

If you are under the Buddhist way of thinking that last sentence is a trap in both its construct and its implication. For the Buddhist the question is unanswerable without causing a new set of philosophical problems. If you declare it a “wrong belief,” you are left with a moral dilemma. Under Buddhism, wrong beliefs or perceptions lead to suffering. If this wrong belief leads to suffering, then is not the belief itself evil (morally wrong and not just factually wrong)? Could it not be argued that Siddhartha perceptually recognized the existence of evil when he saw the sick man, poor man, beggar, and the corpse? He lamented the suffering of humanity because he recognized the evil of what he saw.

These arguments would seem to indicate the existence of evil, which would be a right belief, meaning that there is something more significantly wrong with humanity than perceptions, ignorance, and suffering.(6)

There is More Wrong with Us Than Our Ignorance

Buddhism has gotten something right about our existence. We do have a problem with perception. But according to Jesus Christ, our problem is not ignorance about the human condition. Our problem is denial.
Earlier I wrote about our “cognitive prejudices” that color our perceptions of the world around us, and our own nature. The earlier quote would seem to support the ideas of Buddhism, that our perceptions are a problem. If in fact we interpret everything around us through perceptual filters like greed, envy, jealousy, selfishness and so on, then we should ask the question: Where do these come from?

Jesus taught that such things come from within the human heart.

“The good man brings out of his good treasure what is good; and the evil man brings out of his evil treasure what is evil.”(7)

But who is an evil man? What constitutes a person who is evil?

During a conversation with a devoutly religious man, Jesus made a surprising statement. While asking about how to attain eternal life, a man called out to Jesus, calling him, “Good teacher.” Jesus responded:

“‘No one is good except God alone. You know the commandments, do not commit adultery, do not murder, do not steal, do not bear false witness, honor your father and mother.’
‘And he said, “All these things I have kept from my youth.”
‘When Jesus heard this, He said to him, “One thing you still lack; sell all that you possess and distribute it to the poor, and you shall have treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me.’”(8)

Jesus had two criteria for evil. First, a person who is evil is a person who obeys evil. He or she is a person who engages in morally wrong thoughts, feelings, and actions. The commandments Jesus referred to were Laws given to Israel by God. Engaging in these behaviors, like all behaviors, starts from the heart or mind, and ends with the actual doing of the evil. A person who obeys evil is evil.

Second, Jesus provided a criteria for evil that was highly personal and surprising to the man who heard it.

“…and come, follow Me.”

Jesus regarded the person who willfully rejected him as evil. Why would He do this? Why did Jesus’ criteria for right and wrong have to be so relational?

Unlike Buddhism, which presents everything as an “impersonal ground of existence, which is neither good nor evil,” Jesus Christ presented himself as the ultimate standard of personal existence that is, inherently, good. He recognized that in order for man to deal with suffering, he had to deal with his relationships. Notice the commandments that Jesus mentioned. All are committed in relationship with, or to, another person. In fact, all evil is committed within the context of relationship. The same is true about good. There can be no good and no evil without relationship.

Under Buddhism the adherent attempts to either remove himself from the world through monasticism, or minimize his attachments. In other words, the devout Buddhist must minimize relationships. Yet doing so will not mitigate evil, because love is only expressed in relationships and only love can conqueror evil. Suffering is therefore, not the real problem for Buddhism, denial is.

Because Buddhism is a philosophy of the impersonal, it is only natural that it would deny concepts of good and evil beyond their use as mere conventions. Yet Jesus Christ defined good and evil only in terms of relationship—relationship to others and relationship to Himself. In Buddhism one does not have a relationship with the reality around him since his reality is considered to be an illusion of mistaken perceptions. In comparison, the Bible teaches us that we have not only a relationship with the world around us, but also the people in it, and the God who created it.

Our perceptions are real, and given to us by God so that we might “seek him with all our heart.”(9) If God has enabled us to seek Him, then surely He has given us the perceptive ability to recognize His reality.

1. Dalai Lama XIV, The Dalai Lama at Harvard, page 36.
2. M. Tsering, Jesus in a New Age, Dalai Lama World, page 153.
3. Rita Carter & Professor Christoper Frith, Mapping the Mind, page 127.
4. Ibid, page 131.
5. John J. Ratey, M.D., A User’s Guide to the Brain: Perception, Attention, and the Four Theaters of the Brain, page 56.
6. What if you argue that the belief itself is not right or wrong? Doing so would imply the nonexistence of the belief, and perhaps even the question. For an argument against such a point, read two paragraphs above. If in doubt, read it with a friend using unity of perception.
7. Matthew 12:35.
8. Luke 18:19-22.
9. Psalm 119:2.

I spoke at a brunch yesterday at Valley View Baptist Church, at the morning service at First Southern in St. John’s, and the evening service at First Baptist in Overgaard. In addition to talking about the work of Eagle TV in Mongolia I taught on the subject of how Animism and Buddhism has influenced Mongolian culture, and the incredible openness of most Mongolians to discuss spiritual things. The Americans I speak with are fascinated by discussions about Mongolia and its Buddhist foundations. It comes as a great surprise for many to learn, through practical illustrations, how Animism and Buddhism have crafted the basic value system of Mongolia, which is very different from the value systems that most Americans subscribe too. In all of my talks I draw out the two most important differences between Buddhism, Islam (also in Mongolia), and Christianity—suffering and love.

This is one of those blog entries that I wonder if I should post. It is so personal, so gut-wrenching personal.

I sent my daughter away.

It’s hard to describe at this moment, not quite an hour after Stefani’s plane took off, how desperately alone I feel. It was time for Stefani to go back to America, prepare for college, and learn how to begin living life on her own. It was time. And I know that what I’m experiencing at this moment is not unusual for parents who send their kids off on their own. It’s not usual. I’ve seen other parents send their kids away, halfway around the world—as I just have, knowing that I won’t be seeing my daughter for a very long time. Knowing that she’s not just around the corner, or down the street, across town, or even in the next State. Very soon her bright days will be my dark nights. But I know it’s not unusual. I know that the emotional earthquake inside will calm over time. I know. Still it’s hard for me to contain.

I sent my daughter away.

It was the right thing to do, but the overwhelming sense of guilt and loss at this moment is hard to take. I can’t recall ever feeling this alone. Not ever.

I moved up Stefani’s original date for departure by 8 months because I thought it was the right thing to do. It was the right thing to do. I’m her dad. Her future is my first concern, even if it means losing her early. As hard as it was, she also thought it was the right thing to do too. Still…

I sent my daughter away.

I’m stretching for words to describe what it feels like at this moment, but they fail me. I wonder if Stefani looked out the window of the plane as Mongolia fled beneath her, feeling as empty and alone on that crowded plane as I feel in this empty apartment.

Diane, Rochele, and Whitney are waiting for Stefani in Tucson, looking forward to seeing her again after a long 3-month separation. I know it will be a very happy to time for them, and that gives me some comfort. When it comes time later this year for Diane, and the girls to return to Mongolia, they will leave Stefani behind in Tucson. Then Stefani will begin to taste her first experiences of being alone. Diane, Rochele, and Whitney will have each other as they fly away to return home. But right now it’s just me, alone in this apartment with a fly that keeps buzzing my head. I want to kill it so bad. But I can only kill it once.

It’s so quiet now.

It’s quieter than it’s ever been even when she was at school or out with friends. Her mobile phone sits on the table, powered off. It won’t be ringing anymore. I won’t be getting a call or a text message from her to say she’s out with friends, or on her way home, or asking if we can go to dinner tonight. I’d die just to be able to get a text message from her.

It’s so quiet. I’m going to be alone today. I need to be alone today. No phone calls. No going out. No distracting myself from what I’m feeling. Take the experience and embrace it for all that it is. I need to get used to it, allow it to pass, allow the despair to pass on its own, reminding myself that I know this is not an unusual thing. It’s not. It is not. This is normal.

But my chest is caving in to where my heart used to be because I sent my daughter away.

Have you ever heard a Christian say they have decided to do something or not do something and that they “have a peace about it?” “Peace” is one of those Christianese terms that is sometimes used in the context of decision-making as a test for God’s will. Often when a Christian says, “I have peace about this or that,” they mean that they take that particular thing to be God’s will for them. Every Christian I’ve gotten to know over a length of time, no matter what country or culture they are from seems to have this universal catch-phrase in common. “Peace” is used as a barometer to determine the right thing to do in a given situation. Many go so far as to say, “God has given me a real peace about it.” (As opposed to him giving a false peace?)

In my Christian experience I’ve sometimes taken to using the peace barometer to aid decision-making. Rather, I should say that I used to do that. I don’t do it anymore because, uh, well, because…

I don’t have a peace about it.

In all seriousness, as a Christian when you say you “have peace” about something it means nothing more than you “feel good” about it or there is an absence of emotional conflict. Some Christians refer to a “supernatural peace” taking their cue from Philippians 4:7, “The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” This is a comforting passage, but one that is often mistakenly called upon when trying to determine God’s will. This is a mistake because the scripture never gives us instruction to use “peace” as a barometer for determining God’s will—rather, the scripture uses conviction. Peace can be a byproduct of an already-made choice, but not always.

“Peace” from a biblical view is first “peace with God” (Romans 5:1), meaning that our enmity with God has been erased by the atoning working of the Lord Jesus on the cross. Because of Jesus, God is no longer in conflict with those who have received him. We are “at peace” with him.

Second, biblical “peace” is a lack of internal conflict, or perhaps we shall also call this internal enmity, with ourselves about something. In both cases this kind of peace does not proceed or coincide with a decision to do something, rather it is a byproduct of an already-made decision—sometimes. I’ll explain that qualifying “sometimes” in a moment.

Take a close look at the book of Philippians for the context in which Paul was speaking when he briefly, almost in passing made his reference to the “peace of God which surpasses all understanding.” First look at when Paul said what he said, as it will aid our understanding of Paul’s context. Paul wrote this epistle while imprisoned by Rome awaiting judgment by Caesar for his evangelism activities (1:7). This was equivalent to a charge of political treason, punishable by death. Paul had peace about what he was doing and about what he would suffer because he had already made a decision—in advance—that it was right for him to set his face toward imprisonment and suffering.

How many of us would have peace with that kind of decision?

Paul’s imprisonment is fascinating since he deliberately set out on a mission that he knew beforehand would get him arrested. Let that sink in. I think I’ll go to jail and be executed. Yes. Ah, yes, I have peace about that. Paul’s imprisonment was no accident. He intentionally worked in such a way as to keep himself in Roman custody after he was arrested.

During Paul’s time in Ephesus he set his face to go to Jerusalem knowing full well that if he preached Jesus while there (and being Paul he could not avoid it) he would be confronted and arrested. Look carefully at Paul’s words to his Ephesian brothers. “I am going to Jerusalem, constrained by the Spirit, not knowing what will happen to me there, except that the Holy Spirit testifies to me in every city that imprisonment and afflictions await me. But I do not count my life of any value nor as precious to myself…” (Acts 20:22-24). Did you notice that phrase, “constrained by the Spirit?” This is Paul’s way of saying, “I’m not really sure I like this idea, but God is moving me in this direction so I must do it regardless of my personal feelings.” Now, does this sound like Paul used “peace” to make his decision about God’s will? Not at all. Paul didn’t need supernatural peace for the decision-making process, he used conviction provided by, as he said, the Holy Spirit. Upon his arrival in Jerusalem Paul attempted to appease an angry mob of Jews that God had given the same blessing of salvation to Gentiles (Acts 22:21-22). At every step making his defense over a period of years Paul upped the ante saying things to his prosecutors and accusers that were all but assured to get him into further trouble. It was as if Paul was orchestrating things so that he could get to Rome, under Roman guard, to force a hearing for Christianity before the Roman emperor himself (Acts 25:11-12, 26:31-32, 28:18-20). In fact that is exactly what one late professor of theology taught Paul was doing. “[Paul’s] appeal to Caesar brought Christianity directly to the attention of the Roman government and compelled the civil authorities to pass judgment on its legality. If it was to be allowed as religio licita, a permitted cult, the persecution of it would be illegal, and its security would be assured. If, on the other hand, it was adjudged to be religio illicita, a forbidden cult, then the ensuing persecution would only advertise it and offer an opportunity for a demonstration of its power” (New Testament Survey, Merrill C. Tenney, “Results of the Pauline Imprisonment,” page 329).

Whether Paul would be executed or set free it was a win/win situation for Paul and a lose/lose for Rome. If Rome had simply ignored Paul and sent him on his way, Christianity would have remained in further obscurity. Paul’s strategy would either bring greater freedom to Christians to advance their faith, or cause greater suffering for the church at large. Some might have asked, who was Paul to make such a decision for the whole church?

It was in this environment of difficult, sacrificial, painful choices and imprisonment that Paul wrote to his Philippian brothers, urging them to sacrifice themselves for one another, writing that his own life was nothing apart from Christ, even noting his suffering and many sacrifices to get to where he was. Isn’t that an interesting notion? I’ve sacrificed a lot to get to prison where I can suffer and be mistreated for the sake of Jesus, and possibly cause you more suffering.

In the midst of all of this, when Paul knew that great suffering awaited him still, then and only then does Paul refer to the “peace that surpasses understanding.” In fact, Paul went on in the same chapter to describe how to attain that peace: “What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, practice these things and the God of peace shall be with you” (4:9). What example did Paul set for his Philippian brothers? He was an example of a man who lived godly as he embraced suffering and imprisonment with both arms for the sake of the Church and the sake of Christ. It was in that context that Paul wrote about peace – a context where Paul intentionally chose to intentionally suffer though he could have if he wanted, intentionally avoided it. By chance, do you see a pattern here?

In this context what do we learn from Paul’s admonition of peace? It is that “peace that passes understanding” isn’t something that is given to make decisions. Where will I live, where will I go to school, what will be my job, who will I marry, etc? Paul didn’t even use the peace barometer to make decisions about the persecution of the church. He used conviction.

Feeling good or bad about decisions is not abnormal, and does not require Paul’s “peace that passes understanding.” The peace that Paul refers to is supernatural because extreme circumstance require extreme conviction, and sometimes extreme encouragement. Feeling good or non-conflicted is not peace in the biblical sense. Peace in the biblical sense is that jaw-dropping, “how does he do that” sense of security and firm conviction in the face of absolutely overwhelming odds and opposition where no sense of sense makes sense to accept it. It is what the Apostle Peter had when he walked calmly to his own execution and begged to be crucified upside down because he felt unworthy of his Lord. It is what the early martyrs experienced when they smiled at the flames alight under their feat as the kindling began searing their flesh. It is what Paul experienced after he resolutely, firmly, and purposefully with deep conviction set his face to go toward imprisonment and suffering and embraced it at every step of his journey until the butcher’s axe severed his head from his neck. It is not to stand when the world demands you sit. It is the conviction to stand when the world cuts off your legs and greases the floor—and your conviction persuades others to stand with you. THAT is the kind of peace the Bible promises.

Sometimes. Sometimes it’s a bit delayed.

The night before the Lord Jesus was lead away to be crucified he prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane asking the Father to, “remove this cup from me” (Luke 22:42). Yet at the same time his resolution was set, “not my will, but yours be done.” Did Jesus have “peace” at this momentous moment of decision – the decision to embrace the cross? Not in the slightest. Look at the following passages: “And there appeared to him an angel from Heaven, strengthening him (22:43). Rhetorical question: Why would Jesus need strengthening? Answer: Duh! Look at the following verse, even more revealing: “And being in agony he prayed even more earnestly” (22:44). Jesus’ stress was so great that it brought about hematohidrosis, causing blood vessels around sweat glands to burst so that he “sweat drops of blood” (22:44). Was this a Jesus “at peace” or was this a Jesus resolute in his decision regardless of his feelings? Clearly, the latter.

He was suffering great mental and emotional stress knowing what was to come. Yet remarkably he embraced the cross anyway. In stark, almost violent contrast Hebrews 12:2 paints the picture of Jesus’ kind of peace this way: “Who for the joy set before him endured the cross, despising its shame…” Jesus didn’t embrace the suffering of the cross because he “had peace about it.” He embraced the suffering of the cross for the peace it would bring us later.

When you make decisions about what course your life will take remember that “peace” is not designed to help us make decisions. If that were the case then all of our decisions would be designed to run from suffering like children. Rather, peace is the byproduct of decisions that are pleasing to God, regardless of suffering or joy. Yet also remember the suffering of the Lord Jesus who did not experience peace in the immediate aftermath of his decision. Instead he set himself resolutely to go to the cross because of his conviction and love for us. “Peace” had nothing to do with it except for the peace he was making between God and men.

Whom do you admire in the scriptures or in history the most? Chances are, like Jesus they are people who endured great suffering or turmoil, and either because of it and/or through it transformed the world around them.

And they didn’t always feel good about it.

In contrast to the worldview that runs from suffering, that makes it decisions through escapism, the scripture encourages times when we must embrace suffering, for out of it and through it great deeds are done, lives are transformed, and yes, even heroes are made. For there is nothing admirable about the man who embraces his personal peace at the expense of doing the right thing.