I Peter 2:13-25: tracing the pattern of Christ

If you’re reading this, then you’re old enough to have realized that in life we often have to do things we don’t like.  We often have to work with, or associate with people we don’t like.  What do we do as people of faith when life’s circumstances remind us of this realization?  Peter tells us that as Christians, we should be motivated to submit “for the sake of the Lord”, even if the person they are submitting to is found to be offensive.  We live in a time when not only the people we must submit to, but also the very idea of submission itself is less than appealing.  All our emphasis on personal liberties and being an individual has taken us to a place where we chafe at the idea of submitting to anyone.  And yet, submit we must.  We submit when we see those blue lights come on in our rear-view mirror, when we mail in that check to the IRS, or when the boss calls to tell us he needs us to come in to work.  If submission is a reality that we can’t escape, maybe we should consider not whether to submit, but how we submit.  It’s not that we will suddenly be happy about that speeding ticket, or rejoice as we pay our taxes, or love the idea of going into work.  However, perhaps we can endure all those things, and even grow to the point that we can do them with a positive attitude, if we think of them not as submitting to a police officer, or the government, or our boss, but if we see them as submitting to Jesus. 

Peter desperately wants us to understand that it’s how we respond in those less than enjoyable moments that serve as the greatest witness to our faith, or our lack thereof.  Detractors of the Christian faith are all around us, and our conduct can become either a testimony to our faith, or evidence that Christians are not all that different from anyone else.  Good deeds silence those who reject the gospel, and undercut their arguments against it.  I’m reminded of a story I read not too long ago about an atheist in Texas.  This man was suing to have all Christian symbols removed from the county courthouse.  He did not want to see a nativity scene at Christmas, and if going to court was what it took to remove it, so be it.  Before too long however, the man would not be seeing anything, including a nativity scene.  For some time the man had been suffering from a condition that would eventually leave him blind.  While some Christians might see this as divine justice (and sadly some of those Christians are the ones with the largest microphones), a group of Christians in this Texas town chose not to delight in the man’s plight, but rather to help him as Jesus had instructed them.  Soon the man received a check from local Christians to help cover his medical expenses. 

I’m not sure if those Christians had spent a lot of time reading I Peter, but I think Peter would have been very proud to see how they reacted toward one who was supposed to be their “enemy”.  Peter is trying to tell us that rather than using our freedom for ourselves, or to do evil, we should use it to become servants of God.  That group of Christians became servants of God by helping an atheist pay his medical bills, because everyone is made in the image of God, even atheists.    In a time where there is an emphasis on personal liberty, and on our “rights”, we should be asking the question, what do we do with our liberty?  How do we use our rights not to bless ourselves, but to bless others?  Do we respect everyone, from the top of our social ladder all the way down to the bottom?  According to Peter, we should show as much deference to every human being, as we do to the most powerful among us.  He tells us to honor the emperor, which the Roman government would have been glad to hear.  But he also says honor everyone.  Rather than dragging the emperor down, and risking sounding treasonous, Peter instead elevates the rest of humanity.  Rather than viewing society as a ladder, the apostle insists that we should see it as an even plane where everyone is honored and respected, and God alone is feared and worshiped. 

How does that happen?  It sound great, but how can we control our emotions, keep our pride in check, and treat every person with the dignity they deserve?  The passage points to the fact that the answer lies in following the one who did it the best, who did it perfectly, Jesus Christ.  When the verse refers to Jesus as our example, it uses the Greek word hypogrammos, the word for a pattern that a child would trace.  So, in patterning our life after Jesus, we learn to suffer for others because Christ suffered for us.  In following Jesus we come to an understanding that just like him, we do not receive the crown of glory without the crown of thorns.   Martin Hengel would say, “’Following’ means in the first place unconditional sharing of the master’s destiny, which does not stop even at deprivation and suffering in the train of the master, and is possible only on the basis of complete trust on the part of the person who ‘follows’; he has placed his destiny and his future in his master’s hands.”  That is exactly what Peter encourages us to do, to believe that we share in the destiny of our master.  While that may include suffering for a time, it ultimately leads to that far richer fate of eternal life in the presence of God.  

I Peter 2:1-12: When God changes our name

Peter understood something about being human.  He understood that before we can pursue God, and the vocation that God has given us, we must first decide to turn our back on our old life, on our old way of thinking.  That’s why he instructs his readers to “put away”, or some translations might say “put off”, things like malice, deceit, and slander.  It’s the same verb used in the Greek for the taking off of one’s clothes, perhaps because they are dirty.  Just as we take off our dirty clothes to put on clean ones, so we must also take off our old sinful way of living, before attempting to live a Godly life.  Imagine how foolish we would look if we kept putting on clean clothes, but never took off our dirty ones.  My guess is the fact that the new clothes were clean wouldn’t make much of a difference due to the stench of the old ones.   While in some places, the imagery of milk is used to refer to something basic, here the emphasis isn’t on the milk, but on the longing.  We must have a desire, a longing to be clean, before we will be moved to take off those old rags of sin and doubt.  What does it mean to long?  The psalmist would compare a longing for God, to a deer that pants for flowing streams:  “As a deer pants for flowing streams, so pants my soul for you, O God.” (Psalm 42:1)  I remember that feeling when I was a runner in high school.  The longer we ran, the harder we pushed ourselves, the more we longed for water, for pure refreshment.   In another psalm, the author would state “my soul longs, yes, faints for the courts of the Lord; my heart and flesh sing for joy to the living God.” (Psalm 84:2)  It is clear that if we are truly exerting ourselves as people of faith, then we will long for the spiritual nourishment that only God can provide. 

In the middle section of this passage, a number of Old Testament passages are quoted, as the author lays out two possibilities for his audience.  He describes our response to Jesus as either tripping, or as building.  Some people trip, rejecting Jesus for various reasons.  However, God overrules their rejection by taking the object, or in this case the person, whom they scorn, and making him the foundation of a new world.  That’s where that Old Testament quotation comes in, “the stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.” (Psalm 118:22)  The author didn’t have to try hard to make the connection between Jesus and this passage, as Jesus actually makes it himself in Matthew 21:42; Mark 12:10; Luke 20:17.  Also, Peter uses it in Acts 4:11 when he and John are standing before the council, he states that “this Jesus is the stone that was rejected by you, the builders, which has become the cornerstone.”  A quotation from Isaiah is also used, that describes Jesus as “a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offense.” (Isaiah 8:14)  One of the words used to describe this rejection of Jesus is the Greek word from which we get our word “scandal”.  Jesus was indeed a scandal in his day, just as he continues to be in our day, at least when the implications of his life, death, and resurrection are properly understood.    A crucified Messiah is indeed a tough pill to swallow; Paul says as much in Galatians, that the cross as an instrument of shame and defeat is hard for some people to overcome.  But for those who trust in God, it need not be a stumbling block.  You see, not everyone trips over Jesus.  While some might trip over a stone like Jesus, others choose to build with him.  We see in verse 4 that though Jesus was rejected by men, he is precious and chosen in the sight of God.  “Chosen” or “elect” is the same word used to describe us in the very first verse of I Peter.  When we build with Jesus, we become the new temple.  In John 2, Jesus talks about how he will replace the temple as the place where people encounter God.  What if as followers of Christ, we can serve that same purpose, and through our love for those around us serve as a place where people encounter God? 

That is indeed our purpose as a type of new Israel.  It’s why Peter refers to us as a “chosen race”, “royal priesthood”, “a holy nation”, and “a people for his own possession”.   These are all titles that belong to Israel.  “Royal priesthood” and “holy nation” are direct quotes from Exodus 19:6.  Peter is in essence saying, now they also belong to the Christian community, the church.   We proclaim God’s goodness, in calling us out of the darkness and into the light.  We even hear echoes of the story of Hosea and Gomer’s children from Hosea.  In the story, Hosea’s wife Gomer has children with another man, and they are named “she has not received mercy”, and “not my people”.  They are odd, even damaging names for children, unless you are looking to prove a point.  However, in a move that illustrates God’s mercifulness towards us, Hosea adopts the children, naming them “she has received mercy”, and “my people”.   In the Hebrew, all you have to do is drop the negative component of the names, a simple “Lo-“, to go from merciless to merciful, to go from “not my people” to “my people”.   Isn’t that what God does for us?  In his mercy and grace, God drops the negative component of our names.  The “nos” and the “nots” that defined us not as who we were, but who we weren’t.   God gives us a way of defining ourselves not by our failures, but by our purpose.  I think Peter would join us in giving thanks for a God who rather than looking back at our failures, looks ahead to the purpose that he has for us.     

I Peter 1:13-25: holiness, the forgotten vocation

Peter writes to this group of Christians under fire for a reason.  One of the things he wants to do is remind them of why they are being persecuted.  He is reminding them that their vocation is of the utmost importance, which explains why it has drawn so much fire from the world.  That vocation is nothing less than holiness. 

If they are going to successfully answer God’s call for them to live holy lives, they must first be prepared.  The word usually translated as “prepare” at the beginning of this passage literally means “gird”.  It’s a word which implies impending action, as to gird up literally meant to gather in your cloak or long garment, and tie it up in preparation for running, fighting, or other strenuous work.  When simply walking, sitting, or at leisure, the garment was allowed to remain long.  The exhortation to “gird up” invokes images of Israel, specifically their preparation to leave Egypt during the Exodus.  During the one season I played basketball in high school, on the junior varsity team, I was rarely required to “gird myself” for action.  My warm-up almost always stayed on, and I seldom saw the court.  Peter is telling us here that when it comes to faith, there are no “bench-warmers”, we all must be ready to go into the game.

What is the game exactly you may be wondering?  Too often, holiness is described as abstaining from certain things.  While it is true that part of our calling to be holy requires us to forego many of the things the world deems acceptable, and even good, holiness is more than abstention.  Holiness is also, and I would argue primarily, concerted action on behalf of God.  In both the Old and New Testaments, imitation of God is the standard of our ethics.   Placing our hope totally in Jesus Christ means we invest fully in his service, and in the spread of the gospel.  How do we accomplish that?  To put it simply, we accomplish it through action, through the loving service of our neighbor that we see so powerfully manifested in the life of Jesus himself.  In the words of Clement of Rome, “seeing then that we are the portion of one who is holy, let us do all the deeds of sanctification.”   

In order to perform those “deeds of sanctification” that Clement refers to, God gives us great freedom.  Not a freedom that is an escape from responsibility, but one that liberates us from the restricting power of sin and death.  It was freedom that came at great price, the blood of Jesus, which means that we should not think we can waste the gift that God has given us without consequence.   Our relationship with God, namely his being our Father, should not lead us to believe that he is partial, and that he will refrain from judging us fairly.  In fact, his punishment is often motivated by love, and a desire to see us grow into the task he has set before us.  I remember back in high school when I brought home the worst grade I ever made on a report card, a “D” in Algebra II.  For the entire six weeks that followed, I was not allowed to watch television.  Why was it that my parents punished me?  Was it because they hated me?  Far from it, it was because they knew I was capable of doing much better than a “D”.  The last thing they wanted was to see me squander my talent because of laziness, or a lack of desire to do my best.   We should not think that our relationship with God will cause him to compromise his sense of justice, and righteousness.  If we truly know God, we know that justice and impartiality is part of who God is.  

It was the justice of God that required that he purchase our redemption, rather than simply granting it.  It was the costliest transaction in history, as our redemption led his only Son to be hung on a cross.  In his allusion to the Passover lamb, Peter refers simultaneously to Christ, as well as to our identity as the people of God, Israel.   The blood of Christ does more than cleanse us from sin, it cleanses our consciences (Hebrews 9:14); gives us bold access to the Father (Hebrews 10:19); and rescues us from a sinful way of life.  In other words, it does not just do away with the negative consequences; it adds positive aspects as well.  Reinforcing the point made earlier, it does not just aid the aspect of holiness that requires us to abstain from evil, but it also empowers us to actively participate in the positive side of holiness, to take part in the “deeds of sanctification”.  This has been God’s plan all along.  The phrase “chosen in advance”, points to the fact that God did not just predict these events, but rather planned them from the beginning.   Jesus is the revelation of God for us, and also the one through whom we believe.  Indeed, our relationship with God is through Christ, because we see done in Christ what will ultimately be done in us.  Jesus resurrection gives us hope that God can and will also raise us, and vindicate us no matter what the world does to us as we live out our lives in holiness. 

In this passage, Peter is reminding them that they are saved for a purpose.  How many of us think only of salvation, and not about why we are saved?  Our salvation is not about avoiding death, or hell, it’s about living life, and embracing a relationship with God.  I am reminded of Lieutenant Dan in the movie Forest Gump.   Lieutenant Dan saw his purpose in life as being to die in combat, just as several prior generations of men in his family had done.  When Forest saves him from that death he so desired, his world is shaken to the core.  He was alive, but for a long time he refused to live.  How many of us have been spared death, but have yet to embrace life?  What does it mean to embrace life you may ask?  In essence, embracing life is to order our behavior according to God’s principles.  God’s word reveals imperishable truth, namely the command for us to love one another.  There is power in that love, a power that unleashes in us eternal life.   We are after all, not now the product of corruptible seed, but the incorruptible word of God, which creates, and recreates (see Genesis, John, etc.).   Peter longs for his audience, and for us, to realize that our faith should extend to every part of who we are.  Christ’s redemption of our souls, God’s plan for our life, is as all-encompassing as the love which made that plan possible in the first place. 

I Peter 1:1-12: a message of hope from the hopeless

After countless blogs on the gospel of Mark, I have transitioned to I Peter.  The reasoning behind the decision is simple.   When we read I Peter, we are reading the testimony of the same man we saw bumbling his way through the gospel of Mark.  Who was Peter?

-          He was one of the first ones called to be a follower of Jesus Christ.  He was called with his brother Andrew.  He had been there from the beginning.

-          He had accompanied Jesus throughout his ministry, and had heard his teaching on multiple occasions

-          He had also experienced his share of setbacks, disappointments, and even failures.

In many ways Peter is like us.  Things don’t always go the way he wants.  Sometimes he is his own worst enemy.  And yet, what we’ll see from this letter is quite simple.  Peter has changed.  The resurrection has prompted Peter to respond in ways we would have thought unimaginable while reading Mark.  He still isn’t perfect, but when we listen closely we can hear the words of Christ in Peter’s writing, and we can see how his entire outlook has been radically altered because of the power of the Holy Spirit working in his life.

So with all this in mind, we sit up and take notice when Peter says that we are “born again to a living hope”.  We talked about how Peter had things in his past, things he wished he could undo, or redo.  I can’t help but wonder if as he writes this phrase, he doesn’t think of those low-points in his life- the boasting, the violence, the denial.  If anyone understood the power of being born again, of having a living hope, it was Peter.   There is no doubt that he delighted in this phrase, “he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.”  That implies more than a fresh start, it implies a different start.  Becoming a Christian isn’t about getting a mulligan.  It’s not a second chance to get things right, it’s coming to the understanding that we can’t get things right on our own.  In John 3 Jesus tells Nicodemus that we must be born again/from above.  For whatever reason, the translators usually chose either “born again” or “from above”, subjecting the alternative to the footnotes.  However, I don’t think Jesus was using the word because of its ambiguity, but because of the dual meaning inherent in the word itself.  We can’t only be born again, because then we would be destined to re-live our life in the same limited way we did the first go around.  Similarly, we can’t be born just “from above”, because that fails to reckon with our need for renewal. 

So what does this look like in Peter’s life?  Peter didn’t like it in Mark’s gospel, when Jesus mentioned the Messiah suffering.  Peter’s concept of the Messiah probably included Jesus riding a large war horse, not a donkey; it involved him sitting on a throne, not hanging on a cross.  And yet here we read of Peter describing an eternal kingdom well worth the enduring of temporary suffering, and momentary trials.  The inheritance of the Christian who perseveres is incorruptible, in that it will not rot or decay.  It is undefiled, in that it is morally and religiously pure, not requiring us to compromise our morals in order to obtain it.  And it is unfading, in that its beauty doesn’t slowly slip away like that of a flower.        

It would seem from reading this letter that Peter has come to realize the value of trusting in what we cannot see.  I am reminded from a scene in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, where Indiana comes to a pivotal point in his quest to find and rescue his father.  Before him stands a large chasm, a chasm that can be traversed only by a narrow foot-bridge.  The problem is, the footbridge is invisible.  Motivated by his love for his father, Indiana takes what is literally a step of faith.  Just when it appears he will fall to his death deep into the dark void, his foot lands upon the unseen ledge.  After walking across, he turns and throws dirt on the bridge, a visual reminder that though unseen, the bridge is in fact there.   It’s a move we all have to make in our faith.  It’s a move we see Peter making in the gospel of Mark, thus all his fumbling around.  He hears Jesus echo those famous words, “where your treasure is, there your heart will be also”, and over time the meaning of them slowly sinks in.  Finally, as we read the words of his epistle, we see that though he is still not perfect, he has shifted the location of his treasure, away from a worldly way of thinking, and toward a kingdom of God way of thinking. 

It’s a shift we are all called to make, indeed it’s a shift Peter is exhorting the troubled recipients of his letter to remain commited to.  It’s not that Peter has given up on the idea of a crown of glory, it’s just he’s come to embrace the paradox that we do not, that we cannot receive the crown of glory, without the crown of thorns.