THE LINC COLLECTIVE

Peace Has Come:
Not just a phrase, but a prophecy fulfilled.

It’s easy to reduce peace to a passing feeling, but the peace announced in the hills of Bethlehem wasn’t a fleeting moment; it was a seismic shift in heavenly history. “Peace on earth to those on whom His favour rests.” With those words, the angels didn’t just declare a mood—they marked a movement.

This wasn’t a peace forged by political effort. It wasn’t the Pax Romana, the enforced peace of Caesar’s command. It was the shalom of heaven—God’s sovereign order breaking into the chaos of man. It was the arrival of Jesus, Prince of Peace, and the invitation to live under His Kingdom rather than the kingdoms of this world. Peace has come. And His name is Jesus.

We live in a world that tries to manufacture peace through control. Politics—whether in nations, neighborhoods, or even Christmas tables—is often our attempt to manage outcomes and craft atmospheres. But God’s peace doesn’t rise from human plans. It flows from prophetic fulfillment. From day one, the arrival of Jesus was not shaped by Caesar’s census but heaven’s script. The emperor may have called the census, but it was God who orchestrated the movement that brought Mary and Joseph to Bethlehem to fulfill Micah’s ancient prophecy.

Prophecy over politics—this is the story of Christmas. It reminds us that the world may roar with decrees, but God’s whispers shape destiny. The shepherds weren’t consulted by empires, but they were summoned by the Divine. These overlooked men tending sheep heard heaven’s announcement first. Why? Because God’s Kingdom honors the lowly, not the lofty. He didn’t send His angels to Caesar’s court, but to David’s fields—to the forgotten and the faithful.

Shepherds—the same role young David once held before becoming king. These weren’t just random men; they represented a remnant, a lineage, and a longing. The angelic visitation to the shepherds was the first clarion call of the new Kingdom—a kingdom not of political dominance but devotional surrender. A kingdom not marked by military might, but by worship. A kingdom awakening.

This is a kingdom that moves not with orders shouted from palaces, but with songs sung in stables. Jesus didn’t arrive with legislation, but with incarnation. God in the flesh. Vulnerable. Approachable. Humble. His silence in a manger spoke louder than Caesar’s proclamations from Rome. For His peace wasn’t declared with force, but delivered with presence.

Many of us this Christmas are searching for peace amidst chaos—in our homes, in our countries, in our hearts. We long for rest, but we look for it in all the wrong places. We strive and manage and maneuver. But Jesus didn’t encourage us to achieve peace—He became it. He doesn’t offer a formula—He offers Himself. He is the gift and the giver. He is our shalom.

So how do we walk in this peace?

One: We stop trying to leverage circumstances for security and instead surrender to the prophecy spoken over us: that God is with us, for us, and ahead of us. You are not primarily a manager of outcomes. You are a carrier of promises.

Two: We awaken to the Davidic way. We return to the heart of a worshiper. Before David was a king, he was a singer of songs. He led from intimacy. And now Jesus, the King in David’s line, leads us still. Not with force, but with favor. Not by counting us, but by calling us. And He is calling us back to the manger—not just to remember the story, but to join it.

Peace has come. Not because we earned it. Not because we figured it out. But because God gave it. Because Jesus is here. Emmanuel. God with us. And if He is with us, then peace is not far away—it’s present. It’s possible. It’s a Person.

This Christmas, pick up the prophetic. Don’t just look for peace—step into it. And as we gather around tables, churches, and community this season, may our lives resound with the simple yet subversive anthem of heaven: Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to those on whom His favour rests.