Advent in 1 Peter (1:1-13)
This week begins the Advent
season, a time in which we anticipate the celebration of our Lord’s incarnation
and entrance into this world. Though I
highly doubt that Jesus was actually born on December 25 (there is no reasonable
argument I have seen for this), yet it is right for us to remember the great
historical-redemptive events, especially those connected with the life and
ministry, death and resurrection of our Lord.
And so I think it is right for us to set aside some time to remember
these things more purposefully and intentionally.
Now it is true that 1 Peter is
not exactly perhaps the text you might think of going to first when
contemplating Advent. However, there is
this phrase in 1 Peter 1:20, that does point us in this direction. Speaking of our Savior, the apostle Peter
writes, “He was foreknown before the foundation of the world but was made
manifest in the last times for the sake of you.” When the apostle refers to the fact that our
Lord “was made manifest in the last times” he is referring to the entrance of
our Lord into this world and the life that followed.
It is important for us to
recognize that Peter's point here is not that Jesus is revealed in the preaching
of the apostles: in this place it is history that he is referring to. “In the last times” points to the fact that
for Peter and the Christians of the first century, the incarnation of our Lord
marked a turning point in history, so that all the days that followed are the
“last times.” We live in the last times,
not because the Second Coming is necessarily going to happen tomorrow (though I
would be overjoyed if it did!), but because the life and death and resurrection
of Jesus Christ was the last great redemptive event in history before the
Second Coming and the Final Judgment.
This is important to remember for this reason: Christianity is not about
man’s attempt to ascend to heaven through piety and penance and philosophy, but
it is about God’s descending to earth in our time and space universe in the person
of his Son in order to save men who could not save themselves.
And that ultimately is what
Christmas is all about, or at least should be.
In our day, any semblance of the Christian content of the holiday is
fading fast as our culture becomes increasingly secular. But as Christians, we need to remind
ourselves that remembering our Lord’s birth is not about family get-togethers
and food and presents. It is not even
about peace in this fallen world or about a cute baby in a manger. Rather, it is about the fact that the world
in which we live is so bad, so corrupt, so fallen, so wicked, that it took the
God-Man Jesus Christ invading our world to rescue his people not only from the
present fallenness, but from the everlasting misery which must inevitably
follow our rebellion against heaven.
Jesus didn’t come into this world
because it is a swell place. He came
because it stinks. It stinks up to high
heaven, and one day he is going to replace it.
He came to redeem his people from their sins so that they would be
delivered from this present evil generation and be able to enjoy the age to
come in a new heavens and new earth. So
Christmas is not about the goodness of this world, which is ultimately how the
world presents it. It is about the
badness of this world and the fact that it needs to be redeemed.
This is shown partly in the fact
that when our Lord came into this world, he was not welcomed or treated with
the respect that he deserves. Rather,
“He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him” (John 1:11). “He was despised and rejected by men; a man
of sorrows and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces
he was despised, and we esteemed him not” (Isa. 53:3). We are told repeatedly in the gospels that,
confronted with the authority and power and holiness of our Lord, people became
afraid. They were afraid because they
recognized that Jesus Christ was unlike them.
Of course, this is mostly due to the fact that he is the Son of God, and
they were not. But it is also due to the
fact that he was holy and they were not.
He was a stranger in this world – in the world, yet not of it – holy,
harmless, separate from sinners. He was
an exile in the very world that he made.
It is important for us to
remember this as we come to the celebration of our Lord’s birth. We need to remember that our Lord didn’t come
into this world to make it better for us.
He came to redeem us out of this world.
That doesn’t mean, of course, that there is nothing good in this
world. Fallen as it is, it is still the
handiwork of God, his creation that speaks his Name to all who would
listen. Men, fallen as they are, are
still made in the image of God. And that
means two things. First, that it is not
wrong to enjoy God’s creation. It is not
wrong to celebrate God’s gifts to us in the here and now. But second, it means that this world is
pointing to something much, much better.
There are glimpses, even in its fallenness, of God’s greater
purpose. And so, though we rightfully
enjoy God’s created gifts with thankfulness – like family and friends and material
provision – we should also long and look forward to the prize that is set
before us in the age to come.
What has this to do with 1 Peter
1, you might ask, apart from this fleeing phrase in verse 20? In this first chapter, the apostle lays out a
doctrinal foundation that supports the exhortations that follow. As he does so, we cannot help but notice the
centrality of Christ and his redemptive work.
None of this would be possible apart from what our Lord has done. In particular, he spells out the hope that we
have in Christ. Our hope is living because of the resurrection of Christ from
the dead (3), and it culminates “at the revelation of Jesus Christ” (7). As a result, Peter’s readers, the Christians
of Asia Minor, love him even though they have not seen him (8).
This hope, this salvation, which
centers around “the sufferings of Christ and the subsequent glories” (11), was
prophesied by the Spirit of Christ in the OT (10-12), good news “into which
angels long to look” (12).
When the apostle then comes to
his first exhortation in verses 13-21, we note again that these moral
imperatives are rooted in the work of Christ for them. They are not to go back to their former way
of living, since they were redeemed from that by the precious blood of Christ
(19). In fact, we hope in God through
our Lord Jesus Christ, since God “raised him from the dead and gave him glory”
(21).
To sum up, our hope and our
obedience as believers are unimaginable apart from the person and work of
Christ. They are inconceivable apart
from the advent of our Lord.
But what is this hope that
animates our obedience? In other words,
what is it that this Advent season ought to be pointing us to? This is what Peter spells out in verses
3-12. I want you to see what is the hope
to which you are called. Next time we will consider how this works to produce the fruit of holiness in
your lives.
The grace that will be brought
to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ
Our hope, which is spelled out in
verses 3-12 is summed up in verse 13 at “the grace that will be brought to you
at the revelation of Jesus Christ.” This
revelation is not a reference to the first, but to the second coming of our
Lord. It has not been brought but
will be brought. Having come once
in fulfillment of OT prophesy, we can be sure that he will come again in
fulfillment of NT prophesy. We long for
the grace that will be brought to us at that time. It is called grace, because there is no way
we could ever earn or merit it. We don’t
become saved by grace and then stay saved by works. We begin and end by grace, which makes our
confidence all the more sure.
The thing that is important to
notice in verse 13 is the fact that Peter tells us to set our hope “fully
on the grace that will be brought to you.”
This hit me recently as I was reading this chapter again. In fact, this is the real reason I am
preaching this message today. We are not
told to set our hope partly on God’s future grace but fully on
God’s future grace. How is this
possible? How can we leap over earthly
hopes – like the hope of a better job or better marriage or better whatever –
and reserve our highest hopes for something which is not only future but which
belongs to another world completely?
We had better understand this,
because Peter grounds his call to holiness upon this reality (13). To understand this, we need to go back and
understand what is our hope that Peter outlines for us in the previous
verses. How can we get to the place
where we will set our hope fully on the grace that is to be brought to us at
Christ’s Second Coming?
Understand your Identity
(1-2)
Peter begins this epistle with
these words: “Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ. To those who are elect exiles of the
Dispersion in Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia, according to the
foreknowledge of God the Father, in the sanctification of the Spirit, for
obedience to Jesus Christ and for sprinkling with this blood: May grace and
peace be multiplied to you.” I want to
focus on the phrase “elect exiles of the Dispersion.”
“The Dispersion” was a phrase
that was usually used to refer to the Jews that had been scattered throughout
the world as a result of their exile from their homeland in Judea, in particular
to the Greek-speaking Jews throughout the Roman Empire in Peter’s day. However, there are good reasons to see this
as referring, not to Jews only but also to Gentile believers who lived in Asia
Minor. The apostle is spiritualizing
this description and turning it to a reference to believers in the Lord. They are dispersed throughout this world, but
like the Jews, they were not in their homeland.
For our home ultimately is not in this world but in the world to
come.
This is why Peter also calls them
“elect exiles.” The King James Version translates
this word, exiles, as “strangers.”
According to Wayne Grudem, perhaps the best translation is
“sojourners.” (A similar word is used in
verse 17, which the KJV translates as “the time of your sojourning.”) The word “always refers to a temporary
resident in a foreign place.”[1] As Christians, that is what we are. No matter how rooted we may begin to imagine
ourselves in this world, we are at best temporary residents in it. But that is true of everyone. What makes the difference and distinguishes
the Christian from those who are not, is that we recognize the face that we are
not only temporary residents, but residents in a foreign place. As believers in Christ, we need to face up to
the reality that this world is not our home.
We are not to find our identity in this world, in our jobs, or in our
families, or in our country. We are to
be like Abraham and the patriarchs, who “acknowledged that they were strangers
and exiles on the earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are
seeking a homeland. If they had been
thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had
opportunity to return. But as it is,
they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called
their God, for he has prepared for them a city” (Heb. 11:13-16).
Peter does not drop this
description of these believers by accident.
This is on purpose. He wants them
to see that the significance of their lives does not depend on how they are
perceived in this world. It does not
depend on what other people think of them, or how they usefulness is rated by
others. Our home, and the place in which
we will find ultimate rest, is heaven.
These believers were being
persecuted. So they were acutely aware
that they were being rejected by their neighbors and the authorities. They were seen as being traitors to their
country because of their faith. This is
hinted at in verse 18, when the apostle says that they were “ransomed from the
futile ways inherited from your forefathers.”
In other words, in their conversion to Christ, they were turning their
backs on their heritage. They were almost
certainly seen as being unpatriotic and disloyal. So there would have been this tremendous
pressure on them to repent of their repentance.
So Peter is telling them, “Look, don’t worry too much about being
rejected by your neighbors. For remember
that you are a resident alien. You live
here and rub shoulders with these people, but this is not your home. This is not your country. You don’t owe your allegiance to a culture
which is in revolt against God, who is your true King and to whose Country you
belong.”
You will never set your hope
fully on the grace that is coming with the End, if your allegiance is to this
world. And your allegiance will land
here unless you see that you are an elect exile, a stranger and a pilgrim, a
sojourner.
But we also need to remember that
pilgrims can do great things. One thinks
of the Pilgrim Fathers of our own nation.
They were a very small group of people, described by some historians as
fundamentalist nuts. They were branded
as such by their own countrymen. They
had been “harried out of the land” by the religious leaders of their
nation. They were not wanted. They were not appreciated. They were
not respected. And there were
barely 100 of them when they reached the New World, and then half of them died
in the first winter. What could such
people do? Yet it was their bravery and
pilgrim spirit which laid the foundation for those who would follow. So don’t worry about being a pilgrim, a
sojourner, an exile. God uses pilgrims
in the establishment of his kingdom, too.
Find your identity as an elect exile.
And then there is that word
“elect.” God is of course the one who
chose them. You might be rejected by
your countrymen, but if God is for you, who can be against you? Peter further elucidates what he means by
this, when he says that they were elect exiles “according to the foreknowledge
of God the Father.” This does not mean
that they were chosen by God because he foresaw certain things about them, or
that he chose them because they chose him first. That sense of the word doesn’t hold, for
example, in its application to Christ in verse 20. Rather, what it means is that they were loved
by God with the love that a father has for his children. Let the whole world reject you if God the
Father has received you into his fatherly care.
And he is not like some earthly fathers, who are arbitrary in their
displays of love towards their children.
Rather, we know that God the Father is relentlessly faithful and loving
toward his children. What more security
could anyone ask for? And what a
foundation for your identity!
By the way, when we adopt the
attitude of sojourners and strangers in this world, we are following the
example and pattern of our Savior, who was the ultimate Exile in this
world. How could we expect any
different, when following Christ?
“Therefore let us go to him outside the camp and bear the reproach he
endured. For here we have no lasting
city, but we seek the city that is to come” (Heb. 13:13-14).
Rejoice in your Inheritance (3-6)
What Peter does here is to show
them that what God has promised them is infinitely better than anything that
this world can offer. It is the fruit of
our Lord’s resurrection from the dead, sealing his redemptive work with victory
over death. As a result of this, we are,
according to the mercy of the Lord, “born again to a living hope” (3). I don’t think I really understood what this
meant until just the other day. Perhaps
I am just dull. I guess when I read
“living hope” I just understood that to mean a vibrant, exuberant hope. And probably that is included in the
meaning. But the fact that our hope is
“living” also surely means that it is growing. For it is the property of living things that
they grow. This stands in stark contrast
with the things of this world. We may
start off having bright hope in something, like a new political party, or a new
job, or a new friend, or a new church.
But then over time we begin to learn that there is nothing in this world
that is without fault and failures. Our
hopes diminish over time, or at least become more damped over time. With the Christian hope, it is the
opposite. It grows, because this hope
does not make one ashamed (Rom. 5:5).
Those who hope is in Christ will never be disappointed.
What is the content of this
hope? Peter tells us: “to an inheritance
that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by
God’s power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be
revealed in the last time” (4-5). Here
Peter gets at the heart of that grace that is to be brought at the coming of
Jesus Christ at the end of history. He
tells us five things about it.
First, it is an inheritance. Canaan was described as Israel’s
inheritance. But this pointed to the
greater inheritance that we have in Christ.
An inheritance is not something that we obtain because we saved up
enough money for it. An inheritance is
something bequeathed, something given.
Israel certainly didn’t deserve the land of Canaan. It was nevertheless given to them because God
had promised it to Abraham. In the same way, we don’t obtain heaven
because we deserve it. It is bequeathed
to us by grace. For that reason, our
inheriting it does not depend upon us but upon the grace of God that gives it
(cf. Eph. 1:11).
Second, it is imperishable. This again stands in stark contrast to
everything in this world. Everything
here ultimately disintegrates. People
die. Machines break down. Flowers fade.
Houses fall down. Governments
crumble. Stock markets crash. But the kingdom of God endures forever. It is imperishable. The gates of hell will never prevail against
it.
Third, it is undefiled. I suppose that imperishable is not
necessarily desirable on its own. But
this inheritance is also undefiled. That
is, everything that might cause it to become stained with sin is absent from
it. Remember that everything in this
world that is bad – all the pain and suffering and injustice – ultimately comes
from the fact that sin is now part of the warp and woof of this world. That is all gone in the age to come. There is therefore nothing undesirable in
that land. It is pristine and lovely in
its holiness. “But according to his
promise we are waiting for new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness
dwells” (2 Pet. 3:13).
Fourth, it is unfading. That is to say, it can not only never be
destroyed, but its pristine glory will never fade either.
Finally, it is kept in heaven
for you. These are two of my
favorite verses in the NT (4-5). I like
the KJV better: “reserved in heaven for you, who are kept by the power of God
through faith unto salvation ready to be revealed in the last time.” This is not like a hotel reservation, which
completely depends on you getting there on time. Rather, not only is heaven kept for us, but
we ourselves are kept, not by our own feeble efforts, but by the very power of
God. This is one of the reasons why I
get upset when I hear people downplay the perseverance of the saints. It borders on blasphemy, because it basically
says that God’s power is insufficient to keep God’s people to the very
end. Grudem comments that the word can
mean “both ‘kept from escaping’ and ‘protected from attack’, and perhaps both
kinds of guarding are intended here: God is preserving believers from escaping
out of his kingdom, and he is protecting them from external attacks.”[2]
But this is not apart from faith:
we are kept by God’s power, yes, but it is through faith. We must preserve this balance. There is no hope for those who abandon the
faith. That is because those who are
kept by God’s power are not kept apart from faith, but through faith. This is why the phrase “the perseverance of
the saints” is better than the “eternal security of the believer” or “the
preservation of the saints.” Both of the
latter descriptions are helpful, but the perseverance underlines the fact that
we are secure and preserved by God as we persevere in the faith.
But even our faith is supported
by our faithful God. We must never
imagine that our faith depends solely upon our own fickle resources. We are ultimately kept by God’s unwavering,
unstoppable power. We could never be
more secure. “My sheep hear my voice,
and I know them, and they follow me. I
give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them
out of my hand. My Father, who gave them
to me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the
Father’s hand” (Jn. 10:27-29).
What Peter is doing here is to
show us that the inheritance that is ours through Christ is both incomparable
and infinitely desirable. His readers
had already found it so: “In this [inheritance] you rejoice” (6). This is what Christ came to purchase for us. He did not come to give us this world, but
the world to come. This does not mean,
of course, that believers can’t be successful here. But that is not the promise, and it certainly
should not be what our hope is in. Those
who are rich in this world are exhorted to not “set their hopes on the
uncertainty of riches, but on God, who richly provides us with everything to
enjoy. They are to be generous and ready
to share, thus storing up treasure for themselves as a good foundation for the
future, so that they may take hold of that which is truly life” (1 Tim. 6:17-19).
But what about suffering? (6-7)
One of the biggest problems with
a future inheritance is that present suffering can often cloud our hope and
hide it from our eyes. Since Peter’s
audience were in fact suffering, I think he found it necessary to point out a
very important truth that he will come back to: that our sufferings are not
pointless, but are ultimately for our good (cf. 4:19). And so he says, “In this you rejoice, though
now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials,
so that the tested genuineness of your faith – more precious than gold that
perishes though it is tested by fire – may be found to result in praise and
glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ” (6-7). Note that the joy that we have in Christ is
not a plastic smile that we dutifully wear on our faces. Rather, it is something so real and so deep
that it is perfectly consistent with grief and sorrow. Far from being insulated from the assaults of
this fallen world, we can expect to be “grieved by various trials.” Don’t let anyone tell you that if you’re a
faithful Christian, then you should not have to worry about trials in your
life. Peter says the exact opposite:
that these trials (I love the fact that Peter leaves them unspecified –
“various trials” covers all the sorts of testing that we meet with in this
world) are “necessary.” When he says
“necessary” I think he means from God’s perspective. This doesn’t mean that we will know, but we
can rest in the confidence that our sovereign God in his providence is working
this trial for our good and his glory.
By the way, I think this is a
real test for any religion or worldview.
How does it deal with suffering?
If it has to ignore it or deny it or infuse it with meaning that doesn’t
exist in that worldview, then something is wrong. When I look at the secularist mindset, there
is no place for meaning in suffering. It
cannot handle it except to say, “Que sera, sera.” Any meaning in suffering has to be imported
from somewhere else. But this is not so
in the Christian worldview. We know
there is meaning in our suffering, not because we pretend it is so, but because
we know that God is both good and sovereign.
And we can rest in that, even if we will never understand it this side
of heaven.
However, that doesn’t mean we
can’t know anything. There are two
things, according to the apostle, that must inevitably result from our
suffering. The first is that our faith
will be shown to be genuine: he speaks of “the tested genuineness of your
faith.” This is not only for the benefit
of unbelievers, who by seeing our steadfastness might begin to look into the
gospel, but also for ourselves. There is
always the question, “Will I endure?”
Then suffering comes, the Lord brings us through it, and our hope is all
the more strong.
The second thing is more
important, and is the main thing Peter aims at: “might be found to result in
praise and glory and honor” – when and where?
The answer: “at the revelation of Jesus Christ.” Our sufferings will produce the fruit of
praise and glory and honor. Though it is
true that we will give all praise and honor to the Lord, yet it is also true
that God has promised to give praise and glory and honor to his people. However, and this is important, this does not
happen now, but “at the revelation of Jesus Christ,” that is to say, at his
Coming. It may be that our suffering has
no meaning if we confine our viewpoint to the limited perspective of the
present. But if we allow God’s word to
widen it to the breadth of eternity, then we can be sure that our suffering
will be brimming over with meaning and purpose and good.
Love your
Savior (7-12)
The “praise and
honor” that the believer will find in the future inheritance is inseparable
from the “revelation of Jesus Christ” (7).
That is because what ultimately makes the inheritance imperishable and
undefiled and unfading, or secures the reality that “no longer will there be
anything accursed,” is due to the fact that “the throne of God and of the Lamb
will be in it, and his servants will worship him. They will see his face, and his name will be
on their foreheads. And night will be no
more. They will need no light of lamp or
sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and
ever” (Rev. 22:3-5). Christ is the sun
whose light makes everything beautiful in heaven. To want the inheritance without Christ is
like wanting the sea without water, bread without flour, or the morning without
the sun.
This is why,
though Peter says that they rejoiced in their inheritance, he says something
stronger when he comes to their delight in the Lord: “Though you have not seen
him, you love him. Though you do not now
see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and
filled with glory” (8). You don’t have
to know Greek to see the difference.
Their rejoicing in the inheritance is a step down from their rejoicing
in Jesus because their possession of the inheritance is only meaningful in
light of their possession of Christ.
Like Paul, they believed that to depart and be with Christ was far
better than any blessing that could be experienced in the here and now (Phil.
1:23).
We often judge
the worthiness of something by how other worthy people view it. If a well-known artist admires a piece of
art, well then, it must be worthy of admiration. If a talented musician praises a concerto,
then we might try to enjoy it ourselves.
If a successful writer of fiction whose works we’ve enjoyed tells us
that he has modeled his writing after someone, then we will probably try to
find the works of his inspiration. Well,
apply this to Christ, and the only thing to conclude is that he is worthy of
your worship. For who has admired
him? Peter tells us that the great men
of the OT, the men anointed by the Holy Spirit himself to write Scripture “searched
and inquired carefully” what the Spirit of Christ in them was indicating about
the future coming of the Messiah (10).
Peter ends this paragraph by saying that these are “things into which
angels long to look” (12). Prophets and
angels strain every nerve to know more about Christ. Angelic beings who minds are not afflicted
with infirmity or darkened by iniquity want to know nothing more than the
person and work of Jesus our Lord. Shall
we not then take their example to heart?
Something is wrong with us if we are blind to the glory of which the
wisest of men and purest of angels delight to see.
If you want to
be the kind of person who sets his or her hope fully on the grace that is to be
brought to you, then you must do these three things: know your identity,
rejoice in your inheritance, and love your Savior. Know that you are strangers and pilgrims in
this world. Know that your inheritance
does not belong to the here and now, and yet is infinitely better and desirable
than any earthly portion. And know that
Christ is worthy of your strongest admiration, your strictest attention, and
your supreme affection.
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