Finding the True Meaning of Christmas with Charlie Brown: Inside Out Peace

For Your Heart Today
Advent reminds us that peace is not something we manufacture—it is something God forms within us. From Eden’s wholeness to Isaiah’s promise, from the angels’ song in Bethlehem to Jesus’ own words to His disciples, Scripture tells a story of peace that moves through history and into our hearts.

This is a peace that steadies us when life feels overwhelming, a peace that holds us even when the world around us feels unsteady. It is the peace of Christ—deep, grounding, inner peace that grows from the inside out.

As you enter this week of Advent, may you sense the Prince of Peace drawing near, calming the storms within you, and forming in you a presence of peace that extends gently to others.

3 Takeaways on Peace

1. Peace is God’s original intention.
We were created for shalom—wholeness, harmony, nothing missing, nothing broken. Our longing for peace echoes Eden.

2. Peace is not circumstantial—it is a person.
Isaiah calls Jesus the Prince of Peace. The angels announce His arrival. Jesus gives His own peace to His followers. This peace is steady, eternal, and not dependent on what is happening around us.

3. Peace grows from the inside out.
As Paul teaches, peace rises within us as we turn to God, tell Him the truth, and anchor ourselves in gratitude for His faithfulness. The peace of Christ then flows outward, shaping how we live and how we love.

Breath Prayer
Inhale: Your peace is here.
Exhale: Let it fill me within.

Full Manuscript — Estimated Reading Time: 14–16 minutes

Inside Out Peace

Introduction
“Christmas Is Coming” is one of my favorite pieces in the Charlie Brown soundtrack. It’s fun, lively, and always makes me smile. I love the energy that feels playful and inviting. And then, almost out of nowhere, another melody cuts in, which can catch you off balance when you hear it for the first time – it has a completely different rhythm and feel. It’s not exactly a tug-of-war, more of a musical push-and-pull between two moods, kind of like sunshine and shadow sharing the same space.

The holidays can feel like that. We enter the season wanting to enjoy the sacred beauty of Jesus' birth, to share gifts for those we love and those in need, to celebrate with good food and friends, and enjoy the merriment. And at the same time, practical realities pull us in another direction – the shopping, the cleaning, the planning, the spending, and the emotional weight of it all can press against the joy. Most of us know the tension of loving this time of year and still feeling like it’s… a lot.

As I’ve been preparing this series, Finding the True Meaning of Christmas with Charlie Brown, I’ve learned all kinds of interesting tidbits about A Charlie Brown Christmas. We watch it because it’s simple, nostalgic, and comforting. But the story behind its creation was stressful, tense, and at times explosive.

The idea for the show came relatively late and had to be produced in only 6 months. The budget was shoestring, and the production schedule was intense. The comic strip had only ever been done in basic comic-strip two dimensions, so there wasn't much time to refine side angles, proportions, and animation details. So, the movie was drawn simply, and the producers thought it looked too amateurish. The joke was that Charlie Brown’s arms were so short that he couldn’t even scratch his own head.

Then there were the disagreements. Disagreements over using actual kids for the voices, whether or not to use a laugh track, using jazz for a kids' movie, and the argument to remove Linus’s recitation from Luke. The producers feared it would offend the audience. In the end, Charles Shultz got what he envisioned – kid voices, no laugh track, and the biblical text untouched. The story goes that the conflict grew so intense that Shultz walked out of two meetings.

It’s ironic that one of the most peaceful Christmas specials we cherish today was born in an atmosphere without much peace at all.

And truthfully, many of us know exactly what that feels like. Because even beyond the holiday pressures, peace can be hard to hold onto in everyday life.

We wake up burdened with responsibilities and deadlines. We navigate relationships that require more energy than we have. We rush from task to task while our minds run even faster. We deal with worries we don’t always speak out loud, and grief that can surface or resurface without warning, not to mention a world where the news cycle alone unsettles our spirits.

We long for peace… especially in this season of Advent—the season we proclaim, “peace on earth,” even when peace eludes us in so many ways.

Well, of course, God’s Word has much to share on this topic. Our Bible passage for today is actually four shorter passages from the Old and New Testaments.

Isaiah 9:6–7
Luke 2:13–14
John 14:26–27
Philippians 4:6–7

Peace Intended – Back to the Garden

As we take a closer look at these passages, I want us to hear them as a story — God’s story of peace unfolding across time. Peace not as a moment, but as a movement, from creation to prophecy, from announcement to gift, from gift to lived experience. The Bible tells a single story of God’s intention, plan, and embodiment of peace.

And that story begins in the very beginning.

Even before we look at the prophecy in Isaiah or Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem, we have to return to where the story of peace begins — in the Garden, and God’s plan for his creation.

When God formed the world, the very atmosphere humanity breathed from the start was peace. Not simply a quiet calm or the absence of chaos, but a deep, whole, harmonious well-being peace – the true meaning of shalom. Nothing missing. Nothing broken. Everything in right relationship: God with humanity, humanity with one another, humanity with itself. We were created for peace, shaped for peace, meant to live in peace.

This is why our longing for peace is so strong. It is not just a desire or sentimentality. It is a soul wiring in our spiritual DNA – a deep longing for Eden, God’s Kingdom on earth.

But when sin fractured the world through Adam and Eve’s disobedience, peace shattered along with it. Fear entered. Shame entered. Division, unrest, anxiety, violence, striving — all of it entered the human story. And ever since, humanity has been trying to find the peace we were made for, looking for it in our circumstances, relationships, accomplishments, and escapes.

Through those first humans, creation fell and broke, but God’s story wasn’t done.

Peace Promised — Isaiah 9:6–7

Generations pass. The world groans. And while there are moments of peace, peace feels far away.

And then, to a people living in political turmoil, emotional exhaustion, and spiritual restlessness from being far from God, God gives a promise through Isaiah.

He writes:

“For a child is born to us, a son is given to us.
The government will rest on his shoulders.
And he will be called:
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”

God, through Isaiah, does not promise a peaceful season or a temporary solution. He promises a person:

“And he will be called… the Prince of Peace.”

True peace is not something we manufacture; peace is Someone God sends – not just born but given, as a gift.

And Isaiah tells us more. He says this peace will define the Messiah’s kingdom. A peace with no end. A peace upheld with fairness or righteousness, and justice forever.

What humanity lost in Eden, God promises to restore through his son. A peace not rooted in circumstances, but in the character and reign of the Prince of Peace.

And the story of peace moves forward with an announcement.

Peace Announced — Luke 2:13 -14

Centuries after Isaiah, on an otherwise ordinary night, the promise comes to fruition with an announcement. Angels appear — heaven’s army — declaring:

“Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace…”

Peace is no longer just a prophecy. Peace has stepped into the world. Eden’s shalom begins to return, wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger.

And who hears the good news first? Shepherds! Not the powerful or privileged. Not the religious elite. But the marginalized, tired, overlooked, and not respected ordinary people working the night shift. The birth of Jesus is the beginning of a new day and a new way, a path to God’s original intention for humanity — life grounded, held, and renewed in peace.

And the story continues to peace given.

Peace Given — John 14:26–27

By the time we get to our John passage, we’ve moved from the manger to the upper room with Jesus during his final hours with His disciples. Their hearts are troubled, fear is rising, and their future feels uncertain because Jesus has told them he’s going away – back to his heavenly Father.

It is in this space that Jesus gives a gift: the gift of peace. He says:

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you… not as the world gives.”

Jesus gives His peace. A peace rooted in who He is, rooted in His union with the Father, reflecting and offering Shalom. The world’s peace is circumstantial and fleeting. But Jesus’ peace is steady and eternal, internal rather than external. That’s why he tells us we don’t have to be afraid. The peace Jesus offers is steadfast, unmovable and grounds us.

And Jesus ties this peace directly to the Holy Spirit, the one Jesus calls the Comforter — “The Advocate who will teach and remind followers of Jesus all that Jesus has said…”

The Holy Spirit carries the peace of Jesus into our thoughts, our emotions, and our inner world. Jesus does not promise a life free from struggle. He promises peace within the struggle.

But the story of peace continues.

Peace Experienced — Philippians 4:6–7

In our Philippians passage, Paul shows us how this peace moves from promise, proclamation, and a present to personal experience. For Paul, peace is not an abstract idea; it is personal.

Paul is writing from prison, surrounded by uncertainty, yet he speaks with deep assurance when he writes:

“Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything.
Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done.”

Paul is not scolding his readers for feeling anxiety or worry. He is simply acknowledging the reality of humanity. He is naming the storms that rise within us — the pressures we carry, and the emotional weather patterns we live under every day.

And then Paul gives a promise:

That even in circumstances of worry and anxiety, when we release those worries to God, we can experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. “His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.”

That word guard is telling. It means what we think it means — to hold steady, to keep watch, to protect our inner life – hearts and minds – from being overwhelmed.

Paul is saying that God’s peace strengthens and upholds us from the inside out, at our center and spiritual core. Paul echoes exactly what Jesus said when He gave the gift of peace and told His disciples, “Do not be afraid.”

God’s peace doesn’t deny the storms that may come, or demand faith to pray them away. In fact, Jesus said we would have trials and tribulations, storms in this world. But God’s peace grounds us and holds us, keeping the storm from carrying us away.

The image that comes to me as I think about this passage is the eye of a hurricane. If you’ve ever seen a satellite image of one, it truly is something to behold. The outer bands, the bulk of the storm churns with violence — winds whipping, rain pounding, everything in motion, out of control.

But right in the very center is the eye — a sharply defined space of calm. Stillness. A quiet that makes no sense when you consider what is happening all around it. The eye simply holds — untouched, unmoved, utter peace — while everything around it continues to rage.

Paul is telling us that this is what God’s peace is like in our souls. It is the still point within the storm. The place where Christ holds us steady. A calm we cannot manufacture and cannot lose because it does not depend on what’s happening around us.

The peace of God doesn’t have to remove the storm — it refuses to let the storm define us or overtake us. It creates an internal space where Christ is present, where Jesus says, Peace, Be Still.

In the eye of the storm, the noise quiets, and our footing becomes sure again, and we can rest in God’s heavenly peace.

The storm may still be raging externally, but internally, the center holds because Christ Himself holds it.

This is peace from the inside out — peace that reaches into anxiety, grief, pressure, disappointment, uncertainty, and every place where life feels overwhelming.

This is the peace Advent proclaims.

This is the peace Jesus gives.

This is the peace the Spirit grows within us.

And this is the peace we can learn to live into, even now.

Living Into Peace — Practical Steps from Philippians 4

The Philippians passage not only shows us what peace looks like, but also shows us how we begin to live into it — not by trying to force ourselves to “feel peaceful,” but by opening space for peace to rise within us. Paul’s words give us a gentle rhythm to follow and practice right where we are.

Let’s look at that Philippians passage for a quick moment.

Paul begins by inviting us to turn toward God. When he says, “Don’t worry… instead, pray,” he’s naming the first step toward peace. Fixing our hearts and minds on God — even if all we can manage is a quiet breath prayer, “Lord, I need your peace.” Sometimes peace begins with the smallest step of simply turning toward Him in prayer.

Then Paul invites us to tell God the truth. He says, “Tell God what you need.” Peace doesn’t come from pretending we’re okay. It grows when we bring what’s real — the heaviness, the worry, the pressure, the grief, the fear — into God’s presence. Honesty is holy ground when we “cast all of our cares on Him,” as it says in 1st Peter.

And finally, Paul invites us to remember what is still true, despite the storm. He says, “…and thank God for all He has done.” Gratitude is not denial of our struggles or storms; it’s a way of grounding us by reminding us of God’s character and faithfulness. It clears the turbulence just enough for us to remember: God has carried me through before, and He will carry me again.

As we go to God in prayer, with honesty, and thank Him for all He’s done, and who He is, peace will begin to settle over us. The storm hasn’t changed – we have. We’ve entered the eye where Jesus abides and declares, “Peace, be still!”

Embracing and practicing the peace that passes understanding is a rhythm that anchors us and holds us steady from the inside out.

Extending Peace

And when peace grounds us like that, there’s even more to the story because peace doesn’t stay contained in our own little world. It extends and expands outward. It becomes something we carry into the world.

Jesus said, blessed are the peacemakers, not peacekeepers who seek to avoid conflict, but those who bring the peace of Christ into whatever space they enter.

Peacemakers are people who embody the peace Jesus has given them. And this isn’t about solving everyone’s problems to have peace. It’s about how our presence offers peace. We may speak more gently when tensions rise. We may slow our breath when things start revving up. We become the ones who bring calm instead of chaos, grace instead of judgment, faith instead of fear.

Sometimes the most powerful witness we give the world is the gift of a peaceful presence in a moment of unrest.

When the peace of Christ is formed in us, the peace of Christ flows through us. It shows up in how we love, how we listen, how we respond, and how we choose to be with others.

This is Advent peace — peace received deep within, peace lived outward, and peace extended to others as a quiet, steady gift of the Prince of Peace.

Conclusion

There’s a scene in the Charlie Brown movie after Linus shares the words about Jesus’ birth in Luke 2, in which we see Charlie Brown’s entire mood change. There’s a smile on his face, and a pep in his step as he remembers what Linus has said. He’s experiencing peace from the inside out.

Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace.
Where turmoil rages, let me embody Your calm.
Where wounds divide, let me offer Your gentleness.
Where anxieties grow loud, let me carry Your stillness.
Fill me, anchor me, send me—
that Your peace may rest within me,
and flow through me
to others.

Amen.