This final chapter. My ten year journey alongside the good people of Aldersgate is drawing to a close. I confess it isn’t ending like I dreamed it would, and there is heartache in that. But I am learning to find moments to celebrate. And there are many things to give thanks for, many relationships that sustained me, many souls that have been touched by our shared ministry. I can’t help but give God thanks for the ways God’s blessings have been experienced here in the past ten years. Thanks for those who have welcomed us like family, for those who have been instrumental in shaping me and my family into who we are today. To those who have caught the vision of what we could be, what we are called to be in Christ, and worked like crazy to make it happen. The Kingdom was experienced at Aldersgate by those who had eyes to see.
So, what shall be the theme of this final chapter? How shall we begin the process of following the call of God to continue to be the body even as we walk separately from here? What shall we grab hold of to carry us into God’s glorious future? Joy.
Just that? Joy? Nothing more profound? Just ...Joy? Well, yeah. But no. No, in fact, there is no such thing as just joy. Nothing “only” about it, nothing insignificant, nothing easy, nothing “no big deal” about joy. It is central to the faith. Really? Central? I thought that was love. Yes, it is. Two centers? No, one center, or central expression. You’re right, it is love. But Paul’s letter to the Galatians says that this central expression, this fruit of the Spirit, love is characterized first by joy. It is the chief property of love. A joyous love. That’s what we ought to have, ought to exude, ought to live each and every day. And why not? We’ve got everything we could ever ask or imagine. Our cup runneth over. The Lord is our shepherd, we shall not want. Do you hear how many verses are pointing us toward joy? Read through the Bible (that was fun wasn’t it? How long ago was that? Maybe time to do it again) and find every word telling us that we can be, we ought to be, we are given permission and encouragement to be joyful. And don’t forget this one:
1 Peter 1:3-9 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! By his great mercy he has given us a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, 4 and into an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, 5 who are being protected by the power of God through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. 6 In this you rejoice, even if now for a little while you have had to suffer various trials, 7 so that the genuineness of your faith-- being more precious than gold that, though perishable, is tested by fire-- may be found to result in praise and glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. 8 Although you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and rejoice with an indescribable and glorious joy, 9 for you are receiving the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls.
First Peter. Not a letter we read all that often. It’s just tucked away back there toward the end of the New Testament as though it was embarrassed to be included. I’ll just sit back here, out of the way, so as not to bother anyone, it says. Call me if you need me. But I hope you won’t. Really. And why so shy? Besides the fact that Peter had been through the wringer and was probably a little skittish.
Well, this letter isn’t really for us. I mean it is, of course, all of scripture is God-breathed and useful for building up. But it isn’t. This letter was written when the church was under constant threat. When the benediction was spoken in a whisper because everyone knew when they gathered again someone likely would be missing, caught up in the cleansing, in deportations and imprisonment. When they were afraid of their neighbors. Afraid they might discover that they practiced a minority religion, practiced a suspect faith and might turn them in to the increasingly vigilant authorities who were out to make the nation safe. They were looked at with suspicion as they passed their neighbors on the street. They didn’t feel safe in their own home towns, their own places of work. They were, in fact, model citizens. They did jobs no one else would do. Christians were often the only ones who care for the dead, who would treat the body as though it was something precious and give it a decent burial. Because they believed that life was bigger than what we could see with our eyes. But others thought that was just odd. And icky. And scary.
Questions began to be raised in the communities of faith. Should we go under ground? Should we hide? Blend in, act like them? Would it be safer to pretend we aren’t saved by grace through faith? Should we act as though we weren’t asked to pray for our enemies and pray for those who persecute us, because it’s risky, and darned hard? The question was should our faith move inside: inside our heads, inside our hearts. Should it be a personal faith that keeps us safe and warm where it really matters in the imaginations of our inner life?
This was the question Peter set out to answer in this letter. OK, let’s be aware that there are some who don’t think this letter was actually written by Peter. The timing is wrong, they say, the vocabulary doesn’t sound like a Galilean fisherman. Besides, his name was Simon, not Peter. OK, I get that. And they’re probably right. But, doesn’t it sound like something Peter would do? If he didn’t write it, then maybe he said it and later someone wrote it down and put his name on it. If he did write it, I’m sure he did it without a sense of irony.
If the question should we hide is the one being addressed, who better than Peter to answer it? Peter, who professed his loyalty to his Lord with moral conviction and then ran like a scared bunny when things got heated. Who claimed his steadfastness with loud protests, and then claimed to not know who they were talking about when someone asked him about this Jesus. Of course Peter would answer this question. He’s been there. He understands the pull to save one’s own skin. He has a grasp on reality, he knows what will work and what won’t. He’s as pragmatic as they come. So, who better? What do you say Peter? Stay safe? By no means.
We’d need to study the whole letter to get all the answer, but we can catch a glimpse of Peter’s spirit even in these opening verses. A new birth, that’s our gift. A new life not based our merits, not earned by the sweat of our brows, but by the resurrection of Jesus Christ. And now that gift is ours. And nothing can diminish it. Nothing can snatch it out of our grasp. But it is ours. As sure as the air we breathe. As sure as the light we see. As sure as the hope in our hearts. It is ours, this gift of life. This way of seeing ourselves and all of creation around us. It is ours.
There is only one response to that. Only one. Rejoice. Yes, of course, rejoice. And there are times when I can rejoice. Times when things are going well and I can contemplate the fullness of the promise of eternity. Then, yes, I can look inward and rejoice. Feel good about what has been given, content. Satisfied. Uh, no, says Peter, grinning in his beard. You rejoice, even if now for a little while you suffer. Wait, what? Rejoice while suffering? That doesn’t compute. I know, right? Says Peter. But yeah, it really does. Here’s the thing, you’re alive. I know, and I’d like to stay that way. No, alive. Not just living. You’re alive. Which means that anything that happens is just a moment in eternity. Just a blip on the screen. So all those things that terrify you don’t mean anything. They can’t diminish you, they can’t break you. You’re alive. I didn’t get that then. I get it now. All there is is love.
Peter laughs at his own thoughts. Sounds like a pop song, doesn’t it? But it’s the truth. The deep truth. Love that starts with Him, the One I turned my back on, but who never turned His back on me. Love of Him who loves so deeply it shakes you to the core. Love so profound we are remade. Made alive. Call it salvation, that’s the only word that fits. We are being saved by His love. Saved to love like Him. Saved to live like Him. Does that sound like a party or what?
His teeth gleam through that tangle of a beard, weathered face wrinkling around his eyes as he reaches out with those big fisherman hands to slap you on the back. Welcome to the party, he shouts a little too loudly. Rejoice with an indescribable and glorious joy. Amen, Peter, amen.
Shalom,
Derek
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