Lesson 105 of A Course in Miracles opens with the simple yet astonishing declaration: “God’s peace and joy are mine.” This is not framed as wishful thinking or a reward to be earned later. It is presented as a present-tense inheritance — something already belonging to us, available now.
The lesson challenges our deep-seated assumptions about lack, justice, giving, and reciprocity. And perhaps most importantly, it reminds us that peace and joy are not commodities to hoard, but divine capacities that increase by being shared.
The Course makes a distinction here that is subtle yet transformative. It contrasts the world’s notion of giving — in which to give is to lose — with a spiritual understanding in which giving is the mechanism by which we receive. In the world’s economy, possession diminishes through sharing. In God’s economy, it expands.
The text reads:
“These gifts increase as we receive them. They are not like the gifts the world can give, in which the giver loses as he or she gives the gift… Such are not gifts, but bargains with guilt.” (ACIM, Lesson 105)
A few paragraphs later, the Course clarifies one of its core learning goals:
“A major learning goal this course has set itself is to reverse your view of giving so you can receive. God’s gifts will never lessen when they are given away. They but increase thereby.”
This reversal is not merely a doctrinal distinction. It is an existential shift — one that invites us to inhabit a universe rooted in abundance rather than scarcity.
Giving in Scarcity vs. Giving in Abundance
Many of us operate in what might be called the “ten oranges” mindset. If I have ten oranges and give away five, I have fewer left. The math is straightforward: one benefits, one loses. This worldview shapes how we approach everything — from money, affection, patience, praise, forgiveness, and time, to social power and emotional energy.
But the Course asks us to reconsider whether this model reflects reality or merely fear. When we give in alignment with divine abundance — not from obligation, guilt, or performative generosity — something miraculous happens. What we give returns to us multiplied. Not because the universe is transactional in a crude sense, but because we cannot give what we do not possess, and in the act of giving we are reminded that we do possess it.
This idea lies at the heart of spiritual tithing: giving to bless others so that the blessing circulates, not diminishes. When we give joy, gratitude, money, compassion, or peace, we affirm these very qualities in ourselves. We reinforce our participation in a system of divine reciprocity, rather than the anxious self-preservation strategies of the world.
As Lesson 105 makes clear, the practice is especially powerful — and perhaps especially uncomfortable — when we direct peace and joy toward those we perceive as “enemies” or adversaries. The exercise the Course proposes is simple and audacious:
“Think of your enemies a little while, and tell each one… ‘My brother, peace and joy I offer you, that I may have God’s peace and joy as mine.’”
We often recoil at this suggestion. It can feel naïve or self-betraying to extend goodwill toward those who have harmed, belittled, or opposed us. Yet extending peace is not the same as tolerating mistreatment, ignoring boundaries, or pretending there are no wounds. It simply means refusing to let grievance become our self-definition and refusing to let resentment become our theology.
The Chain Reaction of What We Give
One of the most relatable illustrations of this principle came through a childhood memory shared in the discussion. As a child visiting Dave & Buster’s arcade, Brittany and her brother were encouraged by their father to give away the game tickets they had earned rather than exchange them for prizes. They handed them to another child and walked away.
Within minutes, a “bigger kid” approached and handed them an even larger bag of tickets — an immediate return of abundance. Her father laughed, naming it sowing and reaping. The story has stayed with her into adulthood.
Whether we call it karma, reciprocity, tithing, or miracle logic, the pattern remains: what we give becomes what we live. In organizations, relationships, families, and nations, we see this illustrated continually. Leaders who model grudges cultivate cultures of retaliation. Parents who model praise teach generosity of spirit. Communities receive the emotional weather systems of those who guide them.
We often say we want peace, but if we are honest, many of us hoard it. We wait to offer peace until it is offered to us first, as though peace were delicate, expensive, or scarce. But the Course insists: peace expands when shared, not when withheld.
From Theory to Headlines: Applying Peace to a Fractured World
The practice becomes most meaningful not in abstract contemplation but in the world as it is — fractured, polarized, and noisy. During the episode, several headlines were raised as invitations to apply Lesson 105 in real time.
With the Winter Olympics taking place in Italy, conversations unfolded not only about athletic beauty and international unity but also about climate impact, resource consumption, and political tension — including Russia’s ban from participation due to the war in Ukraine. Controversies like these often demand that we choose sides quickly: Are we for the athletes or for the environment? For sanction or diplomacy? For spectacle or restraint?
Similarly, many other geopolitical crises, cultural clashes, or tragedies push us instinctively toward outrage, blame, righteousness, or pessimism. Headlines place pressure on us to become commentators rather than healers.
But Lesson 105 proposes a different approach: apply peace. Offer peace inward and outward without first solving the argument. Infuse joy without downplaying suffering. Extend forgiveness without erasing accountability. As Brittany noted, “We ultimately want world peace, so we have to become beacons of peace.”
We often underestimate how powerful it is for any of us — regardless of political persuasion — to stop and say: May peace be offered here. May joy touch this situation. May forgiveness mend what fear has broken. Even in silence, this shifts the energetic field.
The Personal Call to Action: Give What You Want to Receive
The Course is practical as well as poetic. We do not transform the world through intellectual admiration but through lived application. One simple exercise offered was this: identify something you deeply crave — love, affirmation, attention, recognition, appreciation, support, safety — and intentionally give that quality to someone else today.
If we long for acknowledgment, we can acknowledge someone else’s effort or beauty or contribution.
If we long for comfort, we can comfort someone we care about — or someone we barely know.
If we long for joy, we can brighten another’s day without tracking whether they reciprocate.
Worst case, we feel better for having done something kind. Best case, we participate in miracle logic.
By giving what we lack, we demonstrate that we are not actually lacking. By sharing what we value, we become who we hope to be.
Coming Home to Divine Reciprocity
If Lesson 105 could speak in plain language, perhaps it would say: Stop waiting. Peace and joy are not wages to be earned, but gifts to be exercised. We do not arrive in heaven as a reward; we remember heaven by practicing peace now. Joy is not compensation for correct belief; it is participation in divine abundance.
Giving and receiving are not opposites — they are identical acts seen from different angles.
A Call for Us — Together
So today, let us — as fellow travelers, prodigals, lighthouse-bearers — engage this experiment collectively:
Give what you want to receive.
Offer the peace you crave.
Extend the joy you seek.
Share the forgiveness you have been too afraid to ask for.
Write it down. Try one act today. Observe what returns. Not because we bargain with God, but because God’s gifts do not diminish through sharing — they multiply.
And as we do, may we remember the simple headline of Lesson 105:
God’s peace and joy are ours. Already. Now. Always.
