I grew up in a house with eight boys. Seven brothers under one roof. That’s a lot of competition at the dinner table. Squabbling over food at mealtimes and fighting over toys or television at others, one could say we played by the rules of “power politics.” Which meant that the biggest and strongest of us won.

As I’ve grown older, I’ve recognized the same power struggles that once played out around my dinner table appearing in communities, headlines and in international politics—with much more at stake. But being surrounded by a constant stream of political conflict, I gradually found myself responding with indifference. I felt numbed to the military conflict with Iran, just as I had become numb to the suffering of Ukrainians. It’s possible to avoid the large-scale political warfare between Democrats and Republicans, but even the conversations between neighbors and friends turn into arguments. I feel pressure to be as passionate about politics as they are, but not at the cost of contention.

Upon reflection, I realized that what I wanted was the wisdom to understand the politics of peacemaking.

Finding Peace in a Divided World

I turned to religious teachings to learn about politics. I found that from Genesis to Revelation, hundreds of Bible verses contrast approaches that resemble both power politics and peace politics. Power politics pursue stability through centralized authority, pressure, or force, often motivated by fear or ambition. Scriptural examples include Pharaoh’s responses to Moses in Exodus and the rioters of Ephesus denouncing Christian converts in Acts 19. A contrasting method, referred to as peace politics, pursues stability through expanded trust networks and responsibilities. And it was this approach that earned Joseph, Mordecai, and Daniel hard-to-come-by leadership roles in foreign kingdoms, all of which resulted in flourishing. Throughout scripture, the warning that people’s devotions tend to power politics more than peace politics is repeated.

For a large part, people tend to interpret the Bible through their own lens of power or peace. For instance, you may have heard antisemitism justified by power politics arguments, maybe through the assertion that “the Jews” killed the Lord Jesus Christ. Yet Jesus was a Jew in a whole nation of Jews. So, more accurately, the Sanhedrin justified killing Christ while fearing loss of power. Or that a Roman politician, also motivated by power, ordered the death of the Son of God. In both of these cases, the motivation behind Christ’s crucifixion was political.

Scripture repeatedly invites us to recognize political ambitions for power like these.

Expectations of How Peace Can Be Achieved

When Jesus rode down the Mount of Olives, throngs gathered. His triumphal entry was the prophesied return of the King to the “city of peace,” or Jerusalem. But many of those shouting praise to Christ expected a restoration of David’s throne and national independence. No more Roman rule. No more Sanhedrin corruption. For those people, this event may as well  have been a political rally.

Many in Jerusalem had hoped that the Messiah would bring safety and security, but were not expecting the peaceful politics of a homecoming celebration. So, they may have been puzzled when the young rabbi went to the temple to share wisdom proverbs, rather than to proclaim. After all the hype, some hearing sermons may have thought, “We got the wrong candidate. Our leaders must be right.” To follow or to revile Jesus became a political choice, with one’s own reputation at stake. Many people remained aligned with local politicians, rather than with the King of the Universe.

What about my own allegiances? As I reflected on the crowds who welcomed Jesus, I realized that my own response to politics was not much wiser. Rather than becoming consumed by political conflict, I often withdrew from it altogether. My own apathy came from the comfort of self-interest, ignoring the needs of others. In that sense, I was one of the multitudes. So, what is the wiser option?

Peace Politics in Scripture

In the Bible, many stories demonstrate an alternative approach: peace politics. After witnessing generations destroyed by violence and wickedness—power politics—Melchizedek chose a different path. Rather than seeking power through force, he invited his people to build a society that became known as Zion. Abraham formed his family while fleeing power politics, but continually prayed for the welfare of sinners. Jacob paid a high price to create his family rather than violently protesting the coercion by his father-in-law, and later faced Esau’s band unarmed—winning back a united family. Joseph used his political power in Egypt to preserve life and reunite his family rather than punish those who had wronged him, forgiving his brothers and feeding foreign nations. 

In each of these cases, reconciliation and progress were achieved by prioritizing people over power. Thus, from ancient prophets to modern ones, the message is clear, offering a political rule by people-first policies. So, in our own days of political warfare, how will we take on the role of peacemakers and really make peace?

Learning to Recognize Abundance at the Table

First and foremost, peacemakers learn to celebrate the good around them. Power politics condition us to focus on what we lack and who is to blame, making us vulnerable to manipulation and creating a false sense of scarcity. One Biblical metaphor aligning with the ideals of peace politics is a marriage feast, or a celebratory gathering. Even when someone else at the table hands us something undercooked, bland, or even painfully spicy, it does not end the meal, let alone the relationship. Abundant grace is the good news of peace politics. Rather than manipulating us through fear, it invites us to trust that there is enough goodness, mercy, and fellowship to share.

In this way, peace politics replaces our natural tendencies toward scarcity thinking and competition. Growing up with seven brothers, I learned to think competitively. At mealtimes, we rushed to claim our favorite foods before someone else could take them. Looking back, we had it all wrong. Having a scarcity mindset, we often acted as though there would never be enough, even when the table was full. We took the food we wanted, ignoring what was “good for us,” and paid more attention to one another’s choices than to the abundance before us. Power politics depends on that same scarcity mindset, keeping us fearful and squabbling about excessive constraints pitted against excessive self-interest. 

Peace politics begins from a different assumption. Like a family meal, it is not a contest but a shared experience, one that balances fairness with generosity and makes room for imperfect people to belong together. This approach simultaneously enforces fairness while repairing the realities of injustice. Today, when political parties of all kinds engage in the same tactics that I inflicted on my own brothers, I understand the tendency to develop a scarcity mindset. But we must recognize that what we all want is the wisdom to live with one another in abundant goodwill. 

Seeing People Clearly

Second, peace politics requires continual self-correction. We practice peace in daily interactions through balancing extremes, taking positive action, and learning from everyone. Power politics thrives on extreme and opposite impulses, discouraging reflection, and rewarding us for remaining in echo chambers. One sign that power politics is at work is a decrease in our ability to see people as individuals and begin treating entire groups as enemies. It becomes easy to blame whole populations for the actions of leaders or governments. In one recent example, a post incorrectly blames Jews for the conflict with Iran. While the Israeli armed forces entered battle, “the Jews” did not. Peace politics resists this temptation, preventing us from slipping into “othering” mindsets that lead to antisemitism, hate, and sweeping judgement. The Prince of Peace taught that doing good matters even when its effects seem small. He invites us to love people we do not fully understand, to learn from those whose experiences differ from our own, and to become one by recognizing our shared humanity. 

Through Christ, peace will ultimately prevail. And in many ways, it already is. Adopting this perspective has replaced my numbness with volunteer projects, interfaith friendships, and causes that are truly good for me, all nourishing me deeply.

With knowledge of the end from the beginning, biblical and modern prophets wisely describe the principles of peace. They urge us to replace power politics with a more direct path to peace, working together and simultaneously living by the rules while repairing the injustices. When we wisely adopt their prophetic vision, peace will follow. We stop quarreling at the table and learn instead to enjoy the feast. Abundant grace is not merely “good for us,” but delightful. Pass the plate, please.

The post The Politics of the Feast appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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