When Peace Came to Roaring Camp

C.S. Lewis once wrote, “God cannot give us a peace apart from Himself, because it is not there. There is no such thing.” True peace is inseparable from God Himself.

The angels made this abundantly clear on the night of Jesus’ birth. Luke 2:13-14 (NLT) tells us: “Suddenly, the angel was joined by a vast host of others—the armies of heaven—praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in highest heaven, and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased.’” What a scene that must have been! The heavens filled with light, the silence of the night broken by the sound of an angelic choir rejoicing over the coming of Jesus, the Prince of Peace.

Yet, isn’t it curious? Of all the things the angels could have done that night—helping Mary, easing Joseph’s confusion, or providing a bassinet for the baby—they instead proclaimed peace. God knew that what humanity needed most in that moment was the announcement of Christ’s arrival and the peace He would bring.

This reminds me of a story recorded by F.W. Boreham in My Christmas Book. Boreham recounts a tale first told by American author Bret Harte, set in a rough and lawless mining camp called Roaring Camp. Peace and goodwill were utterly foreign to Roaring Camp, a place known for violence, gambling, and death. Yet everything changed with the arrival of a little baby.

In the story, Cherokee Sal, the camp’s only woman, gives birth but tragically dies. The baby’s survival becomes the camp’s responsibility. At first, the miners lay the child in a box lined with rags, but it soon becomes clear the box isn’t suitable. A man is sent 80 miles to purchase a beautiful rosewood cradle. Once the cradle arrives, the rags look out of place, so fine lace and linens are brought in to swaddle the baby.

Then the miners notice the filthy floor and scrub it clean. The clean floor makes the grimy walls and ceiling unbearable, so they whitewash them and mend the windows, even adding curtains. The camp’s roar softens to allow the baby to sleep, and flowers are planted to brighten the dusty grounds. The rough miners, inspired by the baby’s presence, begin to shave, bathe, and dress with care. Everything about Roaring Camp changes because of the child.

This story is a Christmas allegory. Two thousand years ago, the world itself was Roaring Camp—a place of brutality, oppression, and despair. Seneca, a Roman philosopher contemporary with Jesus, famously described the culture’s disregard for human life: “Children also, if they are born weakly or deformed, we drown.” Women were oppressed, childhood was unvalued, and the world was in desperate need of peace.

Then a little Child was born in Bethlehem. In His presence, humanity saw its need for change. Slavery had to go. The degradation of women was no longer acceptable. Children were recognized as sacred gifts, and the darkest evils began to vanish, like shadows fleeing the sunrise.

Even today, the presence of Christ still transforms lives and communities. When Jesus enters the human heart, as that Child entered Roaring Camp, all that is sordid, selfish, and unclean is swept away. Peace takes root. Brokenness is healed. Harmony and beauty flourish where chaos once reigned.

Henry Drummond once told the story of a young man whose walls were adorned with worldly and questionable images. For his birthday, his sweetheart gave him a framed print of Jesus’ thorn-crowned face. He placed the picture on his wall, and soon, the other images vanished, replaced by ones more fitting in the presence of Christ. The same happens to us when Christ comes into our lives. Without saying a word, He transforms everything.

This Christmas, may the peace of the Little Child of Bethlehem come into our hearts and homes. Just as Roaring Camp was changed, so too can we experience peace, sweetness, and harmony through Him. As the angels declared: “Glory to God in highest heaven, and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased.” (Luke 2:14)