Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Musings on 1 Peter (4:7)

7: We live in a fallen world. A world that has been ripped apart by sin. Through our sin, Death has entered. Our enemy and our deceiver. But though he be our foe, he lies on the ground both conquered and vanquished. His sword is dull, and his shield is beaten down. His armor is all but gone. O Death, where is thy Sting? Where is thy Victory? The Death Slayer stands poised, with His holy heel firmly pinning Death's head to the blood soaked ground, the shadow of a cross stretching out before his face. Death no longer holds the keys. He no longer claims his victims. He is forced to watch as his most dreaded fears come to pass. His only trick, the death of the human body, has become the means by which his Enemy, the Father Almighty, ushers in mankind to eternal rest and glory. And if that wasn't enough, Death will go to his destruction knowing that his gift to mankind, the corruption of the flesh, the dark night of the soul, will be once and for all resurrected into perfected and reflective light. The whole man will be whole again. No longer will the Spirit wage war with a fallen nature so deeply imbedded. Death despairs. Millennia of work, completely undone. Millennia of work, shown in the end to accomplish His good plan all along. Death's humiliation is complete. He is a stooge, a fool, the court joke. He is shown to be ridiculous. Holy laughter will reign down on his beaten and crushed head. Good wins. The story ends in marriage. All live happily ever after. All is comedy. Further up and further in.

Here is the backdrop for Peter's words of encouragement, "The end of all things is at hand..." This phrase refers either to the end of this created world, the end of the reader's life, or the end of Judaic age in 70AD, with the fall of Jerusalem. Either which way these words are taken, the encouragement stands. Death comes to us all. Either at the last trumpet, the martyr's flame, or in the wave of violent persecution, death will find us. We will cross the great river. When it comes to living on this earth, there is a 100% mortality rate. But what is death? Has not death simply become a door? Our modern philosophers want death to be final, complete, the end game. If death truly is a wall and not a window, then there can be no justice. A lack of final justice leads to complete and utter relativity and chaos. Nothing truly matters. And it is where self aware, honest, materialistic atheists end up. A dismal prospect. Also a lie about the world we live in. It is the lie that whispers in our ear in the final moments of life, "What was it all for?" "Did your life really matter?" It is the fear of these 'sweet nothings' that cause us in our youth to cry out with vigor, "Carpe Diem!" We must make something of ourselves. We must make our mark in the world. For death will come and then we will be gone. Kaput. No more. Lights out. Game over. And for many, many people that scares them, no pun intended, to death. To dwell on utter futility, utter meaninglessness. For in the absence of a God and without final and complete justice in the world, the universe is simply apathetic to your insignificant efforts to make a name for yourself. It's as if a grain of sand somewhere rose above the rest and declared, "I am Sand. And I matter," blithely unaware of the massive wave quickly, and unfeelingly, descending upon his podium. To the man without God, this is what his attempts to distinguish himself amount to. But there is a God. There is final and complete justice. And therefore, there is final and complete peace. Thus we rest in the justice of our God, for in a world governed by His just hand, there is meaning and purpose. We are no longer surrounded by chaos but by story. And if it is His story that we are surrounded by, and it is, then there is nothing in this world that can bring us harm. For we are the beloved children of the almighty and sovereign Author of all things. And that is comfort.

This is the thrust of Peter's exhortation to be sober minded, and self controlled, or watchful. We remember that Peter is writing to the Dispersed. Those Christians who were blown to the four winds of the known world, to the Christians suffering severe persecution. For many of them the end of all things was in deed very near, for them at least. Death was approaching quickly. And their persecutors, their murderers would have taunted them with these words of hopelessness. But their hope was this: death had lost on Golgotha. Therefore their own deaths would be mini-victories that embraced and partook in that Great Death, where Death itself received its first death blow. With each of our own deaths, the heel increases downward pressure. When the last saint dies, heel and ground will meet. Sisera, twice nailed to the floor of Jael's tent. So be sober minded. Think about these things. Be aware of what the implications of the cross and the empty tomb are. Not only understand it, but live in obedience to it. Be self controlled. Do not let fear of death, fear of unknown, fear of uncertainty bring despair into your life. Control the fear. Say to the Deceiver, "I see the cards you are holding, and they are nothing. You have shown your hand. You are bluffing." We have been given a spirit, not of fear, but of power, love and self control. This becomes our life: a life radically redefined by the empty tomb. We become invincible. Who can touch us? Who can harm us? If God is for us, who can stand against us? The answer is simple: no one.

Peter then adds the odd clause, "for the sake of your prayers." I believe Peter's goal is to lay the ground work for a life of dependancy. Pay attention, he is saying. Be aware of the story you are in. If we are with brutal immediacy aware of the human condition, and at the same time with ecstatic humility aware of the empty tomb, our prayer life will simply be our life. We will know our place before the throne. We will simply assume our dependance on Jesus is complete and touches every area of life. Through this dependance, the Gospel goes out and changes the world. Through this dependance, our lives begin to look like Jesus.

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