"Suffering and Blessing"

First Presbyterian Church
Peter S. Buehler
April 27, 2008
1 Peter 3:13-22

Now who will harm you if you are eager to do what is good?

If we were to stop after the first verse of our scripture passage -- if we were to read no farther than verse 13 -- we'd answer the question and be done.

Now who will harm you if you are eager to do what is good? That's easy, No one!
If you're eager to do what is good, no one will harm you! It's what we're taught from childhood: Do what's right, keep your nose clean, live by the rules and things will go well for you. Stay out of trouble. The Chinese proverb: "If you don't want anyone to know it, don't do it."

But beyond merely avoiding wrongdoing, we believe that those who do good will be rewarded. It's common sense; it's in the Bible: The good obtain favor from the LORD (Prov. 12:2).

So maybe we want to stop reading after the first verse of the scripture, after the question: Now who will harm you if you are eager to do what is good? Because if we proceed to verse 14, things change, they get complicated. Verse 14 is like taking our car out for a drive, only going the whole distance backwards -- it doesn't make sense: Now who will harm you if you are eager to do what is good? But even if you do suffer for doing what is right, you are blessed.

What is this about? "Suffering" and "blessed" in the same sentence? Suffering for doing what's right? Being blessed not when the suffering is over but when we're still in it? Christian faith is not what many think: it's not merely some way of living a good life and avoiding wrongdoing, not some formula for rising above pain, hardship, stress, and suffering.

Can it be that there are times when Christian faith leads to these things? That we may suffer because we're Christian?

If last week's scripture from 1 Peter began Like newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk, this week's reading should say You'll need a full set of teeth, because this is about as chewy as protein ever gets! We're out of preschool; this is graduate school.

I was driving the other day and the car in front of me had a bumper sticker which read, "Not of This World." An image of a cross was next to the words. I thought, fine, I get it: You're in this world, but not of it. You're a Christian; your true life is in heaven. But what exactly does that mean? What does it mean to live a Christian life? What is involved in being eager to do good, especially when one's goodness brings not acclaim and applause but argument and adversity? And how is this, pray tell, a blessing?

What was life like for the believers the apostle was writing his letter to? In fact, the Roman Empire was not yet at the point of persecuting Christians; the tone of Peter's letter is respectful of government. Fear God. Honor the emperor, is what we hear in 1st Peter (2:17cd).

But 1st century Christians in Asia Minor were most definitely suffering, because essentially they were having to choose Christ over conformity. In distinguishing themselves from their Gentile neighbors, in worshipping one God over many gods -- saying, in effect, that there was one true God and one true story about God and the human family -- they were denying the power and authenticity of the gods everyone else believed in, the fear which ruled people's lives.

So Peter tells the believers: Do not fear what they fear, and do not be intimidated, but in your hearts sanctify Christ as Lord.

This helps us! I know it helps me, because Peter is speaking to ordinary people.
So many martyrs over the centuries -- many in New Testament times, and in our time: Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Martin Luther King, Jr., Oscar Romero -- courageous leaders who laid down their lives for the truth. We think of Cassie Bernall at Columbine High School, asked at gunpoint if she believed in God. Her one-word answer, her Yes, has been her great legacy.

We wonder what ours will be. Yet perhaps Peter is speaking to those of us who are asked to give of our lives, to say own Yes in a more ordinary sort of way.
Perhaps what Peter is saying has to do with living with faith, not being intimidated by those who think that your being Christian is naïve or foolish, or of no practical value -- that a Savior who suffered and died on a cross could hardly have any useful practical power, let alone power to save, power to bless, power to heal, power to thrive, power to live with joy and hope.

Do not fear what they fear, and do not be intimidated, but in your hearts sanctify Christ as Lord. The suffering the 1st century believers faced was not necessarily physical, but it was real. Believers were isolated and shunned, often by their own families; their businesses were boycotted; they were ridiculed in public and private for their faith. For them, for the women, men and children whose faces the apostle saw in his mind as he wrote his letter, Christianity came at a cost.

Does it come at a cost for us?

Someone I was speaking with the other day mentioned how, when he is driving and someone cuts him off or does something stupid, he tries very hard not to react with angry words and hostility. A small thing, but for those of us who are prone to flare-ups of anger, it is not a small thing. The cost of being a follower of Jesus may be setting aside our anger -- which we happen to enjoy expressing from time-to-time when others have it coming -- for the sake of civility and peace.

More than that, in Peter's words, for the sake of keeping our conscience clear.
This is an incredible statement! It goes beyond refraining from wrongdoing,
Keeping our conscience clear is not just stopping something but reaching deep for something, even our best self at our weakest moment, inviting Jesus into our field of vision when we'd prefer to have him stay back in our blind spot.

Keep your conscience clear, writes the apostle, so that, when you are maligned, those who abuse you for your good conduct in Christ may be put to shame.
Especially when it seems the hardest thing to do, we conduct ourselves with gentleness and respect. If it means stepping outside ourselves -- our old selves, that is, our former selves, the nagging and nasty part of us that won't seem to go away. We make a conscious decision to conduct ourselves with gentleness and respect.

Because Christian faith comes at a cost. We don't just do what we like. Keeping our consciences clear is not just the avoidance of doing wrong, it's the readiness to take the next step of faith.

A clear conscience is not a prize, it's not an end in itself. There's no medal for it, as in: Look at me! Two weeks without an angry word! Bet you can't do that!

A clear conscience is for a quieter, a riskier purpose. A clear conscience is that which allows us to be fully prepared, completely ready for the moment when we need to make our defense, as Peter puts it -- when we need to give an accounting for the hope that is in us. When we say why we trust in Christ and live by the light of his grace.

This is where a lot of us get nervous. We're glad to live as Christians, to serve others, to give of ourselves in Christ-like ways. But we mustn't be shy about using words, either. We mustn't be shy about our story, how our faith has made us new; how our faith gives us hope.

We mustn't be shy about saying what the church means to us, why we come to worship, why we're involved in ministry. And it's OK to use the name of Jesus, the One who gave himself for us, the righteous for the unrighteous.

The value of a clear conscience, the value of living a life of gentleness, respectfulness, and humility, is that when the time comes, we will be ready to share the gospel with someone who needs to hear it.

When the time comes, we will be ready to tell our story. It will not seem forced or phony. We'll not need to use anyone else's words but our own. We will not be embarrassed. Even if we experience harm for being eager to do good, we will be blessed. We hold on to that promise.

Maybe we need to be prepared for the opposite. Many of us are anxious about sharing what is so personal and precious to us, our faith; we recoil from the possibility of any confrontation over our Christianity. I know I do. I wonder why?
Peter says, Do not fear what they fear, and do not be intimidated, but in your hearts sanctify Christ as Lord.

If all we remember from this passage in 1 Peter is "do not be intimidated," that will be enough! Because what may well happen when you and I share our faith is that our friend may want to know more! Please, tell me more! Tell me where your hope comes from. Tell me how you keep going.

If we're intimidated, if we're not sure we have all the right words at our fingertips, or we don't know the Bible well enough, or we don't want to sound like Baptists, heaven forbid, but like Presbyterians -- it's OK. There are no denominational labels in the Bible, none that I can find. The words Peter urges upon us, the attitude he recommends to us, is gentleness and humility. When we share what's most precious to us, our faith, we do it with gentleness and humility.

Especially when a friend, or a stranger is suffering. Such moments are holy. We know from our own times of suffering, whatever they have been, that God can seem terribly absent, and we can feel terribly alone.

Therefore, when we are with our friend, or with a stranger, we may stay silent for a long time. We may choose to listen for a long time. We will not say, "I know what you're going through," because at that moment we do not. Even if our personal experience of hardship and pain seems identical, we will express that compassion with our presence. We will allow ourselves to be vulnerable, to feel some of the brokenness our friend is feeling.

When the time comes to use words, they may seem awkward, and not eloquent.
Afterwards we'll think of other words we wished we'd said, and some we wished we hadn't. But we will have been obedient to the moment, willing if not eager to do good; and we will have shown love. As someone has said, "Nothing is sweeter than Love, nothing more courageous" (Thomas a Kempis).

Amen.