Musings on 1 Peter (4:17-19)

17-19: Learn and love these words of comfort and encouragement because the time has come for judgment, and it will begin with the house of God. Peter is, in effect, summing up the reason for this letter to the dispersed. More than a simple 'hold fast,' he confirms that all suffering has purpose. Our God is the great Author of all life. This means our lives are a story. They have a beginning, a middle, and an end. There is rising action, falling action, climax and denouement. As with any story worth reading, there is tension throughout, and a wedding at the end. And as any good story shows, the tension is the very element that makes the wedding so satisfying. As characters in God's story, we must learn to read the events around us as elements of His story. Where there is tension, we find allusion to The Fall. And where there is resolve, we find foreshadowing of the Great Restoration. In the middle we find our lives, bobbing on the stream between the banks of tension and resolve, from Fall to Restoration. We sin, we stumble, we suffer. God forgives, God restores, God exalts. More than that, our Father the Author writes in the dark parts, writes in the tension with purpose and intent. As fallen creatures we are like gold that is filled with imperfections. The tension in our story, the pain and suffering, the trials and hardships, these are the fires of the refiners forge. Without them the story goes nowhere, and the gold remains drossy. Through the trials we travel, sometimes page after page, sometimes chapter after chapter. But if we have read the story rightly, we know that no pain is without purpose, there is no tension without resolve.

What is this purpose you speak of? What good can possibly come from this? Here we must be sensitive because living in this fallen world truly is difficult. Dealing with fallen people day after day gets tiresome. Constantly falling into our own petty sins is infuriating. On top of that our fallen natures are continually crying out in despair at the seeming purposelessness of it all. But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope. The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases. His mercies never come to an end. In fact they are new every single morning. Great is the faithfulness of our God. Great is the faithfulness of our God. First, this must be where our thoughts dwell. Let your mind dwell on truth. These things are true: God is sovereign over all things. All things means all things. God is a Father who desperately loves His creation. We are His creation. God has decreed from before time began, every event of our lives. This means even the tension-filled hard parts. God has a purpose in telling His story the way He does. His purpose is twofold: All things are for His glory, and for our good. Glory we get, mostly, but for our good? How is this trial for my good? If this is our response the first question we should ask ourselves is, by what standard are we declaring something good? Is our own personal comfort the standard? Or is God's glory the standard. If the first is true, then I dare say we will never achieve 'good' as long as we live. Living in a fallen world has its downsides. Our own personal comfort will forever be plagued with sickness, external pressures, and eventually death. But if God's glory is our standard, then everything is found to be for our good. Our God knows our needs better than we do. He knows our true needs because He knows our true end. What you need depends a great deal on where you are going. God has glory in mind for us. He alone knows what it takes to bear the weight of that eternal glory. Therefore He is in the process of training us. The tension we experience in our life is just that, training. We are being taught how to trust our God. Do we see every minute of every day as a gift from the hand of a Father who loves us? Including the hard minutes? Do we honor God as God, and give Him thanks in and for every one of those long and hard minutes? Do we recognize that we have no right to the reins, our lives not being our own? I would venture to guess not always. Thus the need for training. God wants to prepare us. And so, not to make light of our sufferings, this whole world is, in a way, training wheels. When we die, the training wheels come off. When we die, we get to see what bikes were for.

Someone might shout from the back row, "It's all very good for you to say these things, but you don't know how hard this trial is," or "You don't know how long I've been suffering." And they would be absolutely right. I don't know. I only really know the trials and hardships the great Author has written into my story. I can relate only as far as our pains are similar. But here is the crux of our comfort. Jesus does. Jesus knows every bit of your pain. He knows every hour of your suffering. He has numbered everyone of your tears. More than that He has born the brunt of it for you. On the cross Jesus not only took upon Himself our sin and the wrath we deserved. He bore our griefs and our sorrows as well. When you weep, He weeps. When you are wronged, He is wronged. When you hurt, He holds you with nail-pierced hands. So look to Jesus when you suffer. Look to Jesus when you hurt. You'll find in Him One who knows your pain.

This is the thrust of Peter's entire letter. In these verses he is saying that purification begins with God's own people. The refiners fire burns hottest where the gold is most precious. We feel the heat, but we do not despair, for we look forward to a better country, our own country. But if we have the hope of glory, and still suffer the way we do, then what must it be like for those who do not obey the gospel? To suffer in this world without hope, without peace, this must be terrifying. Twice Peter asks this question, what will be the outcome of the ungodly and the sinner? From the eternal perspective, eternal destruction awaits the wicked. But from our own earthly perspective, the hope of the gospel is for all peoples, all tribes, all nations. I believe Peter is giving even more purpose to our pain here by showing us the ripe harvest, not yet gathered in. We suffer, and are made ready for glory it is true. But we also suffer and are suddenly and uniquely equipped to minister to others who are suffering in the same way we are. We suffer, but with hope. Others suffer in similar ways without the hope of Jesus. I believe Peter's purpose here is to say, "Yes you are suffering. Yes it hurts. It is true. But you trust in the God of your suffering. You have been given the peace that trumps the pain. Therefore get off your duff, and help your fellow creature. Share with them the hope you have been given. Share with them Jesus." Again, I don't wish to make light of the sufferings of this life. I know too well the pain that strikes deep, the crying out, "Why?", the doubts that bring into question the goodness of God. But the answer really is the Gospel. The answer always is the Gospel. So look away from self. Look to the needs of others. Just as Jesus did on the cross. See your suffering as a new shiny tool the good Lord has put in your toolbox. You have the tools. Go therefore, make disciples of all the nations. Go and build God's house.

Peter concludes His thoughts on this theme with the simple encouragement to trust. If all else fails, trust that God knows what He is doing. Trust that He knows the end from the beginning. Trust that He knows every hair on your head, and the lifespan of each of them. He also knows when each one will turn grey, whether prematurely or not. Trust that He is a good story teller. Trust that your story is worth living, no matter how hard it is, because it reveals the goodness and beauty of our God. Trust that simple obedience cannot help but bear fruit. Trust that a life lived in the presence of God is its own reward.

Musings on 1 Peter (4:12-16)

12-16: It makes sense, coming on the heels of Peter's exhortation to living outward focused lives, for him to switch gears, and encourage us to not be shocked when we are persecuted. The world's fundamental disposition toward grace is revulsion. They can't imagine a life not focused on one's own needs. It is suicidal to consider the needs of others as more important than your own. Why, they say, that might lead to personal discomfort, or letting go of the niceties we have come to feel entitled to. Niceties such as designer clothes, or more expensive cars, or even cable TV. After all, we've worked hard. We deserve some comforts in this life. Caring for others is alright in its way, but what do we get out of it? Is it tax deductible? Against this grain of thought grace cuts deep. So deep it hurts. The world sees it and rebels against it. Doing something not necessarily beneficial to self, for the sake of Someone you can't even see, is complete nonsense to the natural man. And so, when this becomes our life code, those around us will balk, then laugh, and finally shun. Therefore don't be surprised when it happens, Peter tells us. Don't look for a different outcome. You knew this was coming, in other words. Its part of what we signed up for. The Christian life of grace is so antithetical to everything the world stands for that friction is a necessary byproduct.

Furthermore, this friction is not only necessary but healthy. If nothing in our lives ever causes an unbeliever to feel awkward or resentful or just plain mad, barring our own sin of course, then it would do well for us to check our own position. If we are Christians, then we have been pulled out of death, and placed into life. As living, breathing examples of Holy Spirit filled life walking in the shadows of death, we should stand out like sore thumbs. If not, if you blend in with the shadowy surroundings, it's possible that you have not cast yourself on the mercy of Christ. If that is true, do so now. I'll gladly wait.

This is what Peter is speaking of when he talks about our faith being 'put to the proof.' When the cup is shaken, what spills out? When the sponge is squeezed, what liquid escapes? Is the sponge of your life soaked in the lifeblood of Jesus? Does grace gush out when you are squeezed? This is our faith being put to the test. Not so that we will despair at our sin. Rather, we are shown our sin so that the Father can scrape it off the top. We are being purified in this life. The dross of our sin is rising to the surface as we undergo the painful heat of tribulation, and the cold fire of suffering. It is precisely for this reason that Paul counts all the pains and hardships of this life as 'momentary light afflictions.' After darkness, light. After winter, spring.

More than this, suffering for righteousness sake is our glory. For if we suffer for our faith, and in our faith, we suffer with Jesus. We are united to Him in the Garden. His blood sweat becomes our own. He identifies with us, and allows us to participate with Him in suffering in this world. For if we suffer with Him in this world, we will be glorified with Him in the next. Therefore rejoice! Dance, Sing! Sing a song of joy! Our graves will lie abandoned. Our tombs, like His, will be empty.

So laugh when you are insulted. When someone throws the name 'Christian' in your face with the intent to make you ashamed, or to make you feel stupid, laugh. Not for spite, but simply for joy, for it means the Spirit of glory and of God rests upon you. Therefore glorify God with your laughter. Honor Jesus with your joy. To be named a Christian by the onlooking world is a great honor, and should be seen as a sign of heading in the right direction. It is the same lifestyle that will cause the ones God is drawing to Himself to ask you about the hope within you. If you by your faithful and loving life of grace are not drawing scorn from the hateful and spiteful world, you will not be drawing searching questions from those God is bringing to Himself. It must remembered of course, we are to live quiet and peaceable lives, seeking peace with all men as far as it depends on us. But if we live in obedience to God first, and man second, some men will necessarily be disobeyed, and that will not sit well with them. And so we find the great chasm that separates the City of God and City of Man. In this way we show our allegiance. In this way we honor our King.

Musings on 1 Peter (4:10-11)

10-11: Having been exhorted to be "lovers of strangers" in verse 9, leading us all to be givers, Peter brings the command into clearer focus. We all have been shown grace. All of life is grace. The air we breath, the water we drink, the loveliness of a sunset, the beauty of a pastoral scene. Not only the essentials of life that we take for granted are grace, but also the very aesthetic quality of those essentials as well. Our God does not dole out grace. He dumps it out. Deluge and not sprinkle is the proper term. Every minute, I am fond of saying, is a moment in which we as living creations experience grace. We are completely surrounded. The expedient thing to do is to surrender. To throw up the white flag of truce. To realize that the castle of our own self-will has been besieged by the manifold Grace of God, is to find life. But more than this, each of us have been shown particular graces as well. Some are given to speaking, and are given tongues that proclaim with bold words the grace that supports it. Some are given to serving, and are given hands that hold cups of clear and cool grace, refreshing the thirsty soul. Some are given to praying, and are given knees that know the grace of the worn floor beside the bed. Each of us has not only been given life, but a means to share it. Not only are we given water, we are given a cup as well. Grace comes in many shapes and sizes, for our Father has a different purpose for each of us.

The Author of all things speaks to us in story. He speaks to us both in the Revealed Story of Scripture, and in the story we call our life. As mentioned above, our lives are not our own. They are not ours to do with as we like. It is not as though the Father rents time from us every now and then, paying us for time spent in His presence. Rather, our lives, bought with a purpose, belong to Him, to do with as He likes. This means every part of our life has meaning behind it. There is nothing accidental about our existence. This in itself is most comforting, but it leads to something far more amazing. It means we as characters in His book, actually participate with Him in the ministry of His Grace to the world. As a Father He wants a thirsty child to have water to refresh his spirit. Therefore He has gifted another child to hold out clear cups of grace at the right time and in the right place. In this way He has made us interdependent. We are all connected and given to one another. My cup, holding the grace that I have been given, is perfectly suited to offer refreshment to your need. And the cup you have been given is shaped in just the right way so as to quench the thirst that has been welling up in me. In other words, the Author of all things uses indirect methods of blessing His people. Even this is grace in that it builds up a bond between believers, and bond no army can undo.

So what are we to do? Know the story being written around you. Who are you? What graces have you been shown? What vessel has been given to you so that you may meet very particular needs? This requires us to actually see others as more important that ourselves. With us at the center all we look for is what others can do for us. All we notice is the shortfall in their cups ability to meet our needs. But that's the magic of grace. When pursued for self-serving reasons, grace, when obtained, always turns to ash, and will not quench. But when one keeps others in front at all times, the grace shown him, no matter what size cup it comes in, nor what shape, will quench his need beyond all the wells in the world. Therefore let us pursue others, showering them with the grace we have been given. This way of life honors our Maker more than anything.

How? How does this way of living honor our Maker? For one thing it means a life of obedience, and obedience is sweeter than sacrifice. More than that though, and closer to Peter's point, a life which showcases grace is a life that makes manifest the incarnation of Jesus. We are the Body of Christ. He has made us His incarnate presence on this Earth, through the power of His Spirit. Now of course, Jesus still has a physical body, which we have argued thoroughly above. But, in a very real sense, we are His body. Every time we put grace on display we are telling the truth about who God is to the world. Every time we live for self, we lie concerning the name we have been given. Every clenched and grasping fist is Peter before the cock crowed, denying his association with His Lord. Every upturned hand, open to the story being told, is Peter saying, "You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God." In other words, our actions are our theology. What we say with our hands is truer than anything we say with our lips, concerning our real heart attitude. And there is no neutral zone. Either we brush our teeth to the glory of God or we don't. Either we wash the dishes to the praise of His name, or we don't. Granted, actions fall on a graded scale in terms of importance, but nothing happens without meaning or story behind it. Everything we do is accompanied by attitudes and motivations. Despite our best intentions they are often thinly veiled, and so speak volumes to those who watch. Either they speak truth, or they lie. Either they align with what we say we believe, or they prove us to be hypocrites. And someone is always watching. Even if it is only the Lord of all things. Therefore let your actions be true.

We serve "as one who serves by the strength that God supplies." In other words, when we do anything we are to do it as a representative of the One who enables us to do anything at all. In this way, Jesus is made manifest, and through Him the Father is glorified. Peter supplies that common and annoying clause, 'so that in everything.' This does not mean only in big ticket items like our jobs, or our marriages, or our finances. It means in everything, down to the way we tie our shoes. In everything, if our lives reflect the grace that we have been shown, then Jesus is preached, and the Father is glorified. Peter explains why this is necessary. All things are already under His dominion anyway. All glory belongs to Him already. Therefore wake up. Don't be the child who covers his eyes and says, "I can't see you so you must not be there." Look around. See with your eyes that Jesus is Lord. Show with your hands that you see.

Musings on 1 Peter (4:9)

The three commands of verses 7-9 are set in the context of the immediacy of the end of all things. The first two commands make sense in light of this imminent reality. First, be self controlled, or don't flip out because the end is coming. Our security is not found in this world, and so the coming destruction of this material world should not burden on our souls. Second, love each other. This also makes sense as we live in communities as reflections of Christ. We show Christ to one another without care for seasons or days. We have been filled with the Spirit and so love is simply our new way of living. But the third command might seem strange to our modern, individualistic ears. Sure, we love people...out there. Our home though is our home, after all. Our sanctuary from the outside world. Right? So when Peter tells us all to love strangers and foreigners, to be a friend to them and to do so without grumbling and complaining, and when we realize the implication is that we do this in the context of our home, our personal sanctuary, we might start looking for ways to turn this command into a metaphor. But that would be playing Twister with Scripture.

Our modern, enlightened minds have told us that we are the number one priority in our lives. Existence begins at home, Descartes might have put it. We have been taught from and early age that what we want and how we feel are the two most important things in our life. It is our desires and our self esteem that make up the bulk of reasons that lie behind the actions of our everyday lives. I want ice cream, and ice cream makes me feel good. Therefore I will go have an ice cream. Innocuous enough. But in the context of the end of the world, in the context of strangers and foreigners, in the context of loving all without ceasing, perhaps there are other considerations that need to be made before we go get ourselves an ice cream. Now, I am not saying there is anything wrong with getting an ice cream. What need to be challenged, or at least brought out into the daylight and examined, are the unconscious gears that churned out that particular action. Was it merely to satisfy personal, fleshly foodlust? Perhaps to gratify the "You deserve a break today" thought that we have been inundated with these past decades? What drives our actions? What lies behind our motivations to do whatever it is that we do? Paul calls us to consider the needs of our neighbor more important that our own, to consider others as more important than ourselves. How does this factor into our thought processes? Is "Does this bless others?" a box that we check off before we do anything in particular? More to the point of this verse, does "Is my house a place where others feel comfortable?" every cross our minds? How about this: "Is my life, and thereby, my personal space focused on blessing me, or on blessing others?" Or this: "Do I actively pursue blessing others with my goods and my spaces, or do I think that blessing others chiefly means staying out of their way?" What is the aroma of our homes? Is it welcoming and inviting, comfortable and outward focused? Or is the outside of the front door the only space we are willing to share with strangers? What is our own attitude, an extension of our personal space, homes in miniature we might say, as we move in and through society and culture? Are we good hosts?

Important questions that are not often asked. Especially when life is busy with work and family and hobbies. All good things with which the Author of Life has loaded up our plates. But our Author does not load up our plate simply to see if we can get through it all. He is more interested in how we get through it all. What is the fundamental attitude we carry through life? Do we make ourselves Grand Central Station, with everything starting here, with us, and then moving out? Do we decide what we export and import, and how much, and when? Or are we simply a railroad car, carrying cargo from the true Central Station, from Him, out into the world, traveling on the tracks He has laid for us? There are only two orientations in the world. Either we are looking at self or we are looking at the Father. Furthermore, there is not one area of life where this orientation does not manifest itself. Even in eating an ice cream.

As with everything we rely entirely on the Gospel. First and foremost because we do not have the right orientation in and of ourselves. We cannot live in such a way that puts others first unless we have been born again of the Spirit. Only with new hearts can we look outward. The cargo container, which is our life, must first be picked up and placed on the train. Then we can live oriented in the right direction. But if we have been born again, and the Spirit is at work in us, in what ways do we impede His work? In what part of our gardens do we refill, with the dirt of our sin, the holes He has dug to plant new fruit trees? How are we getting in His way? To stay on topic, we do not live 'gospel-y' lives when we see our homes as belonging to us. When we take private property to the absolute, and declare our homes free from the annoying interference of the Spirit, we are most definitely getting in His way. When Jesus bought us with His blood, He did not just buy our souls, keeping our name on the books until we get to heaven, as if salvation is merely reserving a table for Friday night at 6:30. He bought our entire lives, and He bought them for the here and now. Even our salvation is not intended for us. Our salvation plays a small bit part in a much larger story. We have been repurposed. When He bought our entire life, that included every extension of it. It included our homes, our own sacred personal sanctuaries. In other words, our homes are not our own to do with as we like. They belong to God, to do with as He likes. On the broad scale this means He can take it away from us at any point in time, and we can still trust His goodness. But this is covered in the first command, to be sober minded in all things and to not place the substance of our hope in these material things we are surrounded by. But what about the home He has allowed us to keep? What about the home He has obviously put us into? How do we reflect the Gospel there?

The first principle to always remember is that all things are gift. Everything you have, everything you eat, everything you see, everything you smell, everything is gift. This world is gift. Every minute in the day, every day in the year, every year of our lives is gift. This lies at the heart of understanding the world and our part in it through the lens of Gospel. We deserve nothing that we have received. Even the hard and painful consequences of our sins are gracious gifts, for every sin deserves instant and immediate death, followed by eternal and unending separation from God. But this is not what we receive. Far from it. We are given breath every day. We are given the means to live, every day. Beyond that we are given unnecessary joys and blessings every day. Gift. Complete gift. This is what grace looks like: a thrice holy God who cannot stand the sight of sin, becoming a man and living in the very pit of sin for 33 years. Surrounded by sin daily. Watching it express itself every minute. And then, taking all that sin and putting it on like a cloak, He bares the shame that sin carries with it. All so that you and I can continue to breath, without fear of death. This is grace. This is gift. A gift always has a giver. The giver of all these things is the Father. He actually does deserve everything, and yet His orientation is to give. Therefore Christian. What do you do with this gift? Do you also give? Do you also look a sinner directly in the face and give? Give of yourself, give of your property? If our very lives are a gift to us, is it not height of arrogance to not give of our lives to others? Remember, our lives were bought for a purpose. Our lives were given to us, not for us to keep for ourselves. We were granted breath, both physical and spiritual breath, with the purpose of taking life to others. Every aspect of our life, not one of which we can declare ours by right, is purposed for others. This includes, most inconveniently our own homes. So what do we do with them? How do we love and befriend the alien and stranger with our homes? Once we have answered that question, all that is left is to not grumble about it. He who complains is giving with his hands while grasping with his heart. But both hands and heart were bought by the blood. And so with every part of our self, none of which belongs to our self, with every extension of our self, none of which belongs to our self, let us give and make gift, and let us do so cheerfully. In light of the empty tomb, how can we do otherwise?

Resurrection Day 2012

We feasted last night. A royal feast it was too. Succulent lamb, slow roasted over open coals with a rosemary-white wine-mustard sauce. Potatoes Rosti with garlic and rosemary. Onion Gratin with gruyere. Butter lettuce with pear and gorgonzola. We feasted with joy and laughter. Delight was at our right hand, and festal pleasure at our left. It was a feast to remember. Grand though it was, last night was a mere preamble to this morning. All of last night was an appetizer, a small plate, shared among friends as we awaited the main course. Last night was the teaser plate the waiter brings to show off their specials. Last night, our mouths watered at the sight of it. Today we feast for real.

Its hard to imagine what the women in the garden must have been feeling that first of all Sunday Mornings. We have been living for 2000 years in Resurrection light and so our eyes have grown accustomed to the beauty. But for them, the sun had only just risen, as Mark's Gospel says. This new daylight was foreign to their eyes. Staring, open mouthed at the stone rolled away, terror must have filled their minds. Not only was their teacher dead, but now someone has stollen the body. Even the rights and privileges of the mourner were taken away from them. As they stooped to enter the tomb to make sure the body was not still there, they received a shock. The tomb was filled with light. Not light from the day outside, nor light from an oiled wick. A different kind of light altogether. A light that made our own sun look like shadow. It was coming from a young man dressed in white, apparently having waited just for them. The light must have thrown them to their faces. Even reflective glory is too magnificent to look at for long, when the glory comes from Him. Then words were spoken. Unthinkable words.

Today we feast at the table of our Lord. He himself has laid the table with his own pierced hands. From His pierced side came water and blood. We have been washed in that water, made clean and fit, granted access to this table. As we sit we find our goblets filled with His lifeblood, and on our plates, the bread from Heaven. It is on the body and blood of our Risen Lord that we feast. Only the Risen Body can make such a feast. Here we find true life. Life full and rich. Lasting life that sustains well beyond the grave. Life that gives us empty tombs as well. Therefore as we worship our Resurrected Lord today, let our worship be strong. Let our cheeks grow red with laughter. Let us feast with Joy, for Joy himself has come and joined fellowship. Christ is risen. He is risen indeed.

Musings on 1 Peter (4:8)

8: This is one of the most oft quoted verses of Scripture. For good reason too, but perhaps without fully understanding what we are saying. Peter notes the high importance of his own phrase by beginning with 'above all else', 'before anything else', or perhaps, 'if you don't get anything else out of this letter, get this.' He has heightened our anticipation. What is it that he wants us to understand 'above all else?' It is what everything he has been talking about boils down to. It is the gospel response in miniature. Love one another, or more literally, always have unceasing and intentional love among yourselves. Why? Because love covers a plethora of sins. How though? How does love cover sin? What does he mean by cover? Sweeping sins under the rug? Ignoring sin? Well, actually, to a certain extent, yes. The word for cover literally means, to cover, or hide. Uncomfortable as we are with the thought of hiding sin, let's start with what Peter does not mean. Throughout the Word we are given exhortations to judge others, especially leaders and teachers, by their fruit. By judge I mean examine or discern. This can only be done with a complete and honest understanding of their faults. So in this sense, we are not ignoring sin or sweeping sins under the rug, but rather holding them up in order to discern whether or not it is wise to listen to or follow a certain leader. Nor does Peter mean that when we cover sin, it magically disappears and all consequences automatically and instantly vanish. You can hide a bowling ball under the rug, but people will still trip over it. So we cannot use this verse to justify ongoing sinful behavior leading to annual harvests of bad fruit. Nor can we bring this verse to our aid when we want the inevitable consequences of major sins to simply fade gently into the forgotten past. Sin is still sin, and it is serious, and it will be judged, either on the cross or on the last day. We cannot ignore this all important truth.

So what does Peter mean? As always, context is key. The main phrase in this verse is to love one another. It is odd that it is never quoted when the subsequent phrase is. And the love covering sins bit only makes sense if this first phrase is what it is referring to. We are a new people, a new humanity, forming a new culture. Peter has gone to great lengths already to establish this point. We are a holy priesthood, with a new way of living. Our lives are different now because Jesus has been born, has died, was buried, has risen and ascended to His throne. All things are new. As His growing city on a hill, we are called to emulate His grace. We become 'little Christs' to an onlooking world. And our love for one another is our most potent testimony. Indeed it is one of the primary ways our nation-discipling takes shape. Around the central tenants of our Faith, a community is built up, manifesting itself in local expressions. We call these local visible manifestations of the great community local churches; local bodies that are part of the much larger whole. In these communities Christians live in close proximity to one another. We share our lives and share our bread. We indwell one another, living as one even as the Father and the Son are one. In this context we live in the presence of one another's faults as well. Thus Peter's exhortation is spot on. Unceasing and Intentional love. Both words are fit for the human existence. Unceasing because we grow tired. We don't see any growth in our friends and so we want to give up loving them. We want to throw in the towel because we are tired of their faults and failings. But Peter is firm. Unceasing. Don't stop. The thought that hides just under the surface of this verse is this: Did Jesus cease loving you? Did Jesus throw in the towel because He was tired of you? Of course not. How can we, then, stop loving one another when Jesus never did? Especially when the offenses against Him were far, far greater than the offenses against us. Therefore our love for one another must know no bounds.

Our love must not only be unceasing, but intentional as well. The word translated as 'fervently' comes from the Greek word meaning, to put forward, or to cast out. Either way the direction is the same. Love must come from within and move outward, and we must be the ones to do it. When a man goes fishing, he does not simply hold the pole upright at the edge of the lake, hook and lure dangling from the top. He winds up his arm, and throws the hook and lure as far out as he can. With purpose and intention he casts his bait into the environment before him, with hopes of catching a fish. Our love for one another must be the same. Too often we take a passive approach to love, which says, "Just don't get in their way." Or we define love as 'not offending'. But these are weak and anemic non-loves. Love must take initiative, love must be purposeful. We need to be casting our love into the environment before us, with the hopes of catching a friend. Again, Jesus did not simply 'leave us alone'. Nor did He seek to 'not offend'. He put Himself forward, while we were yet sinners, while we were still dead in our sins, while we still were lying in the Lazerine tomb He cast Himself upon the cross. And praise God He did.

Here we begin to see the meaning of sin-covering love. Among other things it is a matter of perspective. Being forgiven of our million dollar debt, how can we demand the quarter from our neighbor? Our sins against a thrice Holy God having been forgiven, how can we hold in contempt the sins of a imperfect saint against another likewise imperfect saint, namely ourselves? We cannot. It is hypocrisy. It is two tongues in one mouth, and God hates a double tongue. Our love for the brethren looks past the particular brother and sees the Spirit that dwells there. We all are a work in progress, and the same Spirit is at work in each of us. How can we get impatient with each other then? How can we cease loving without unwittingly growing impatient with the Spirit who is at work within them? Do not our demanding natures and our bitternesses speak lies about the Spirit's work? We return to perspective. The Father is infinitely patient with us. He gives us each breath, even the ones we use to complain and grumble about our brother. Does it make sense? No. Grace is far to wild and crazy for us to comprehend. But its not too crazy to emulate. We are called to. It is what we are remade for. In this sense, in so far as it can be, we do ignore the faults of one another. We emulate the grace that remembers iniquity no more. We must see the Lord first when we see our friends and brothers. When we see one another through that lens, love truly will cover a multitude of sins.

Peter is writing to the dispersed Jewish Christians who are scattered throughout the known world. They are without physical homeland. We are in their shoes. Our homeland is Jesus, and He is not physically present with us. He has given us as tokens of His presence both His own Spirit, and His own Body. The Spirit is at work to grow the body up into maturity, to prepare it for the eternal weight of glory that lies just beyond the great river. He has called us to live with one another in such a way that reflects the holiness and the beauty of the Father. When we hold on to grudges or do not let love cover offenses against our own self, we are not reflecting the love shown to us on the cross. We are reflecting instead the pettiness of our own sinful hearts. We, the pot, in the end, call the kettle black. How then can we reflect His grace? Let your love for one another be intentional and unceasing, because Love Himself has covered our sins. In this way the new community is built. Upon these stones the walls of this new kingdom are erected. With this foundation, this holy house cannot fall. It is the very soil in which the mustard seed grows into a giant tree, giving shelter to all the birds of the air.

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.