Musings on 1 Peter (5:12-14)

12-14: Peter has written a letter. A letter for a suffering Church. A letter of encouragement and hope. His aim has been to reveal the true grace of God, and to build us up in it. We too are pilgrims dispersed in a land that is not our home. We too know trials and hardships. As with the exiled Jews in Babylon, we are called to seek the welfare of our cities, to set roots down, to live, work and play in the homes and places God has given each of us. Our lives should be full and rich, with traditions of joy and long seasons of laughter. Our lives should always be pointing outward, seeking to engage others with the joy of our salvation. Our lives are no longer our own, and in this we find peace. Peace in every trial, peace in every shadowed valley. Peace because the One to whom our lives do belong is the Author of all things. In Him we rest. In Him we are being transformed, as a community, into a glorious citadel. We are the bricks and living stones that make up the walls, and battlements. At times this hurts. Especially as dirt and straw must be scraped off for the stone to fit. But we are in the hands of the Master mason. And we take comfort knowing that whatever it is He is doing, however long it takes, and however much it may hurt, the final product will be beautiful. This is our peace. This is what all our toasts and odes and stories point to. As a compass points north, so our lives point to beauty. Every aspect of our nature is being transformed into loveliness. Therefore stand firm, knowing the One whose hands you are in.
As Peter sends his final greetings, he sends peace. This should be the make up of all our final words as well. Peace. If God sits on His throne, then we can have peace. Justice is not an obscure maybe. There will be justice. Every wrong will be made right, every hurtful word will be reckoned for, every debt will be paid, every tear will be dried. We believe these things to be true. We show a desperately discouraged and despairing world that these things are indeed true, by our peace. This peace is beyond understanding. This peace guards our hearts and our minds. This peace is woven into the very structure of our home. For our home is found in the Prince of Peace. Our home is Jesus.

Musings on 1 Peter (5:10-11)

10-11: So if God is loving, why do we suffer? Why isn't our life a can of peaches? Hopefully the asking of the question puts things into perspective. The first answer is, of course, whoever said that's what life was supposed to be? Where is it written that everyday will be chocolate milk and ice cream? It seems to me that as fallen creatures living in a fallen world with fallen bodies surrounded by fallen sinners, we are bound to have our fur rubbed the wrong way sooner or later. A friend once said, its not a question of if you will suffer, but when and how much. Strife and friction lie at the very heart of what it means to be human. Lets back up. We were created perfect in a perfect Garden, given everything we could possibly need. God walked with us in the cool of the day. And in that very real utopia, we decided that it wasn't enough. We needed to have some say over what we did or did not do. We needed some autonomy. And so we threw away the perfect gift of life that was given us. The result has been pain. Our original duty was to be fruitful. To grow. Men tilling the ground, and women tilling their children. Now, all fruitfulness would be fraught with pain. Thorns and screams. Pain and frustration are the consequences of sin. One can't acknowledge the one, and be indignant at the other. It doesn't follow. And so if we are honest with ourselves, and if we take the fall seriously, we must acknowledge that suffering is a reality that is not to be wondered at.
When we sinned, we took the image of God, and we covered it with tar and pitch, rolled it in the dirt, and dusted it with fine bits of gravel. Then we mashed it all up so that the tar and dirt was evenly spread throughout the whole lump. So now, ever since the fall, God, whose kindness and mercy truly are everlasting, has set His mind on plucking out every bit of dirt. Its as if He made a perfectly clean lump of clay, and that lump decided to jump off the table and roll in the filth. Now, after picking the lump back up, He washes it, and proceeds with sharp tweezers to remove every grain of filth. Does the lump of clay really have anything to complain about? And yet that is exactly what we do. Stop it! we scream. Ouch, too deep! we whine. And still the Maker, in His kind patience continues to remove the dirt.
How kind is our God! How patient are the ways of the Almighty! He who sits enthroned in the Heavens, He gave the world to us His children, and we spat it back in His face. We, tiny specs of nothing, in the same breath defy the will of our Maker and demand our own wellbeing. Who are we? Who do we think we are? And how great is our God to smile at us and pour Himself out on the cross for us. To say to us, "Yes, within its first hours my perfect world has seen great evil. But I will make sure that I bear the brunt of it. I will take the ultimate consequence upon My own back, so that you, My children, may see My glory, and share in it with Me. Rejoice My people, therefore. You have acted foolishly. But come. Be undone by My grace."
Jesus is the answer. Jesus on the cross is the answer to every pain and every sorrow. Jesus on the cross not only bore our sins, but our griefs as well. He took upon Himself the worst of the pain so that everything we experience would be for our growth and not our destruction. This is our hope. Our suffering is the fire stoked to such a heat, that dross cannot help but rise and be scraped. And so we see that our God has turned even our punishment into grace, using the consequence of sin to sponge the sin away. It hurts, just as picking the dirt out of a fresh scrape on the knee hurts. But just as the knee heals, so do we.
Boot camp, I'm sure, is a horrible place, where horrible things happen. But they happen in a controlled space under close supervision with the purpose of training men for war, a horrific place where horrific things happen. The pain of boot camp pays off when the instincts that have been drilled into the brain, show themselves in the heat of battle, and lives are saved. Our 80 years on this groaning rock is our boot camp. Now the new heavens and the new earth are no war. Much the opposite. But we need to be prepared for it all the same. God is teaching us to trust Him, and to do so instinctively. He is tearing away the layers of self reliance and self worship. He is stripping us bare to where we have no false image of ourselves, where we can see ourselves for what we really are: jars of clay, created to carry glory.
So what is Peter's final encouragement to this crowd of suffering sinners, dispersed throughout the known world, far from their homeland? What words does he have for us, who pitched our tents in the midst of idolatrous living, but are called to be separate from it? What hope is there in this fallen world for fallen sinners such as us, redeemed though we may be? Peter's words are firm. And glorious. After we have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called us to His eternal glory in Christ Jesus, will Himself restore, confirm, strengthen and establish us. Let those words sink in.
We will suffer for a little while. Its true. The word 'little' throws it into perspective. Compared to eternity, time on this earth is brief. And while we are here this side of the grave, we will suffer. It is the reason Paul called his suffering, 'momentary, light affliction.' Placed in the scales against the weight of glory that is ours in Christ, our own hardships might as well be as light as air for all the resistance they give. At the same time, suffering is not something we blow off, or simply disregard. We weep with those who weep. Our heart aches, with all of creation, to be free of this fallen shell, to be made whole once again. But only seen in the light of eternity does pain not turn into despair.
The God of all grace. Everything is grace. Everything is gift. All of life is God's present to us, wrapped in shiny paper with a bow. Every moment is given to us from the hand of a Father who has His glory and our good in mind at all times. Therefore every moment is a opportunity for us to say thank you. Every moment sees us either honor God as God, or lifting self up. Murphey's Law is God's humorous training ground for our gratitude. Do we acknowledge in our hearts that God is the one who tangled all those cords, forcing you to choose between being offended that this inanimate object does not recognize the importance of the one trying to untangle it, or laughing at the silliness of this world. The choice is ours. What does it mean to give thanks for all things?
Who has called us to glory in Jesus. We were created for glory. We fell. He sent His Son to bear the brunt of the punishment, so that in Him we might receive the glory after all. This is what we were purposed for, and what we now are repurposed for. It is our end. Paul calls us jars of clay. As clumsy, anything-but-special vessels, we hold the treasure of the gospel. Red wine in paper cups. And yet, the power of the wine is to transform our paper cup into bejeweled chalices, fit for the King.
Will Himself. He does not wait for us to do it. He knows we never could. Not only did He create us in the first place (completely unnecessary), but He proceeds to pay the ransom, after we go and screw things up. It is all a work of God. First to last. Even now as we work out our salvation, we only work out what He Himself is working in. We are the branch bearing the fruit of the Spirit. Not fruit we mustered up in our own strength. He is the Lord. He will surely do it.
Restore. He Himself will restore us. He restores us to the garden. But a garden in which He has sweat blood on our behalf. He does not bring us back to simple innocence. That was never the plan. The garden has become an urban garden, a great green city. We fell at a tree in a garden. Jesus redeemed us at a tree in a garden. He brought us back to Himself, with an eye to graduate us to maturity in Him.
Confirm. He will confirm that what we experience is not without purpose. Nor are we alone in our pain. We have both brothers and sisters, and a God who share in the weight of our woe. Our suffering is not without an end. It is the road we take to reach the garden. He will confirm that the source of our pain is the font of mercy and not simply the cruel hand of fate, or the evil designs of the devil. Our suffering is valid and real. This was confirmed on the cross.
Strengthen. Do not fear, Isaiah tells us. Do not be dismayed. For the Lord is our God. He will strengthen us, He will help us, He will uphold us by His righteous right hand. With God on our side, who can stand against us? This is the source of every encouragement. The gospel is true. The God of all things is our God. Therefore do not fear. Let your heart be strengthened. Let your soul find courage.
Establish. He will set our feet on solid ground. This world will be shaken. And the kingdoms of this world will crumble and fall. But our feet will be secure. For He Himself will establish us in truth. He has set His Anointed on His holy hill. Jesus is established forever as the sovereign ruler of all nations. In Him we are established forever as the heirs to this kingdom. We are like the oak planted by streams of living water. Our roots go deep. Our leaves will not whither. The wind may rise, but we will stand firm. Indeed, the birds of the nations will rest in our branches.
Us. He does this for us. The weak and sinful creatures that rebelled against Him. Us. We are the ones He wishes to make new. We are the ones He has chosen to bless as His people. Not from anything we have done. Not because were in any way special. Simply from the goodness of His heart, it was the pleasure of His will, to do all things for us. At this point Peter cannot help but break into doxology. The faithfulness and the mercy of Lord is from everlasting to everlasting. To Him be dominion and all glory forever and ever. May Jesus forever have the dominion and the glory. May we always be ready to give both in all areas of our lives.
This Gospel is ridiculous. The weak confound the strong. The way up is down. The humble are exalted. Life after death. By all human standards, this does not work. But then again, human standards are broken and have never worked themselves. But the Gospel is what makes life worth living. It is also what makes death worth dying. Daily picking up our cross, we share in the suffering of Jesus that remains for us. We find in this suffering our deepest joy for it unites us to Him. The more acute the hardship, the closer He draws near. The steeper the pain, the sweeter the grace.