elect exiles, part 02
1 Peter 1:1: Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ, To those who are elect exiles….
Peter begins his letter with an amazing summary of the Christian life, which also happens to express the essence of Core Community Church. In just 2 words, Peter pieces together the theological foundation and visible expression of living as a Christian: elect exiles. The theological foundation is our election – God sovereignly, graciously, and lovingly choosing to rescue us from our sin, bring us into His light, and grant to us the opportunity to love others. The visible expression is our identity as exiles. Our new birth, brought about by God’s election, creates a brand new identity in us even though we continue to live in the same culture.
We already looked at what Peter meant by election, but what does he mean by exiles? Have they been forced to pack up their bags, move to an unwelcome place, and suffer there for a time? Have they been banished to isolation on a lonely island? This isn’t just a question for the original readers of Peter’s letter. It is a question for any Christian today, anyone who has been “born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 1:3).
The Greek word Peter chose to use parepidemos, which simply refers to a stranger, someone living in a foreign land. Peter uses it here and in 1 Peter 2:11 in connection with our identity as sojourners. But how are Christians who grew up in the same culture they continue to live in after being born again, still able to be considered strangers? We are already familiar with the customs of our culture. We are already in tune with the language, economy, sociology, and psychology of what surrounds us. We have not been geographically displaced, have we?
We haven’t been geographically displaced, but we have been completely and wholly spiritually displaced. Peter spends time in his letter talking about the Christian’s true home, namely, heaven. Peter tells us our inheritance is kept in heaven for us (1 Peter 1:4). Our inheritance is no longer wrapped up in earthly parents, but we await our inheritance from our heavenly Father. He tells us that the Holy Spirit we have received was sent from our homeland, heaven (1 Peter 1:12). Our power for living is no longer coming from our self-exertion, but it is coming from the heaven-sent Holy Spirit. He tells us that our Savior, our example to follow has gone into heaven (1 Peter 3:22). Our model for living is no longer earthly men or women, but He is the One who has gone into heaven and it seated at the right hand of God. In short, our identity is no longer based on our past – whatever they may be. Now, because of our new birth in Jesus, our identity is based on our future.
This fundamental change in our identity is also highlighted by Peter’s fascination with hope. He says,
- We are born again to a living hope (1 Peter 1:3).
- Our hope should be set on the grace revealed when Jesus returns (1 Peter 1:13).
- The cross of Christ produces hope in God (1 Peter 1:20-21).
- Holy women are characterized by hope in God (1 Peter 3:5).
- Our hope is what should make us distinct from others, leading to our friends questioning our hope (1 Peter 3:15).
Hope is a confident trust in a promised future reality. As Christians, our hope is secure because the One who made the promises always keeps them. We know that our future is secure. Once again Peter is telling us over and over again that our identity is now shaped by our future – not by our past. This is incredible news for all of us!
If heaven is our new home, and our identity is shaped by our future instead of our past, what does this produce in us? How, then, do we live? Well, that is why Peter wrote this letter. Peter introduced his main concepts in just 2 words, but he then chose to unpack those 2 words in the following 104 verses. This is the development of 1 Peter, all pointing back to our identity as elect exiles: firmly rooted in the theological truth of election, graciously living in our culture as exiles.
elect exiles, part 01
1 Peter 1:1: Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ, To those who are elect exiles…
There, in 2 words, is the essence of 1 Peter and – quite possibly – a succinct expression of biblical Christianity, the philosophy of ministry for Core Community Church, and any healthy movement of the Gospel. I know it sounds inflated and souped-up, but in those 2 words are meaning that transcend to most parts of life. Elect exiles. Not only elect. And not only exiles. Elect exiles.
Theology + identity. Truth + translation. Thought + formation. Who we are + where we are. Why we live + how we live. And the list could go on. Elect exiles.
First of all, elect. Just the fact that Peter brings up election this early in his letter means something. He doesn’t shy away from calling them elect, the chosen, the set apart, the fore-ordained. In fact, he gets to it as quickly as possible. There might be two reasons why Peter would so quickly call his readers elect:
- They were probably Jewish, and therefore know what it is like to be chosen and set apart. The Jewish people had been especially chosen by God, elect according to his purposes, since Abraham way back in Genesis. The word elect wouldn’t alarm them. They wouldn’t run from it. When their pastors preached through the letter, they wouldn’t skip over the word for fear of being “too theological.”
- These Jewish people needed ongoing refinement of what it means to be elect. Throughout redemptive history, the Jewish people had misunderstood election, often thinking it was merely about special privileges. But, as Peter will soon make clear, election also leads to suffering. Election demands (and produces!) obedience. And obedience to Jesus surely leads to suffering, persecution, hardship, and pain. Being chosen by God did not (and does not) set anyone apart from suffering; being among the elect did not (and does not) mean escaping from suffering as an exile.
When Peter talks about the elect, he is simply joining the crowd. In the New Testament, Jesus talked about the elect (Matthew 24:22, 24, 31; Luke 18:1-8). Paul talked about the elect (Romans 8:33; 9:11; 11:7; 2 Timothy 2:10; Titus 1:1). And, depending on how one interprets John’s letters, he may have talked about the elect, too (2 John 1:1, 13). Finally, through John’s vision, we can know that elect is an eternal title given to God’s people, Jesus’ co-warriors forever (Revelation 17:14, which uses the same Greek word as Peter in 1 Peter 1:1, but translates it chosen).
Furthermore, the concept of election is laced throughout the Old Testament, too. The Hebrews were God’s chosen people, his treasured possession, out of all the peoples on the earth (Deuteronomy 7:6; 14:2). David viewed the people he led as God’s elect (1 Chronicles 16:13; Psalm 33:12; 135:4). Solomon also understo0d that God has chosen the Jewish people in a special way (1 Kings 3:8). Through Isaiah, God reminded his people that they were elect (Isaiah 41:8-9; 43:10; 44:1; 45:4). Literally dozens of times, God specially chooses a person, a team of persons, a city, or a place for his own purposes.
Thankfully, the electing nature of God can not be escaped, denied, or refuted. In his kindness and in his mercy God has chosen some of us. He has elected some of us. He has set us apart from the rest. This is election. Peter explains more of election in 1 Peter 1:2. He says that election is according to God the Father’s foreknowledge; election is carried out through sanctification by God the Spirit; and election exists to bring about obedience to God the Son. And all of this is accomplished fully and only by the shed blood of Jesus Christ. All members of the Trinity are involved in election. All of them believe in election, take part in election, and bring about election. And – as with anything in the world – election finds its power in the shed blood of Jesus.
If Peter only referred to his readers as elect, that would not be enough help for their situation. The fact of election is great. It reminds us of God’s mercy, God’s sovereign control, God’s carried-through purposes, and God’s long-term, eternal plan. But what does election do to us? Does it just put us in another category? Does it just mark us? What is the point of election, and what does election make us?
Enter our identity as the elect: exiles.
soft difference in 1 Peter
My pastor and my friend, Ethan Burmeister, sent an article about 1 Peter to me earlier this week. As I have been studying, meditating on, and praying through 1 Peter in the past couple of weeks, I found this particular article to be extremely helpful. It was written by Miroslav Volf way back in 1994. It is entitled “Soft Difference: Theological Reflections on the Relation Between Church and Culture in 1 Peter.” It is slightly more scholarly than the average read, but it is very, very helpful.
For me personally, I left the article more aware of my fears and my tendencies when I engage with non-Christians. My friendships with non-Christians are usually developed by geography, simply because working for a church means my co-workers are (usually?) already following Jesus. This means that building friendships with neighbors is crucial. Whitney and I love doing this, but – just like any Christians – we have fears, we have sinful tendencies, and we get discouraged.
Volf helped me understand better the middle ground between two extremes of relating to my friends who don’t know Jesus. The middle ground is what he calls soft difference. Peter and my life experiences tell me clearly that there are differences between our family and the families living around us who don’t know Jesus. The way our family does life, the way Whitney and I relate in our marriage, the way we shepherd our children, and the way we don’t do some things quickly bring up differences between us and our neighbors. Volf helped me by highlighting that these are soft differences – and I don’t need to make them hard differences. Here’s what he means.
The differences between me and my friends who don’t know Jesus should be there because of what I love, because of the values in my life, because of the new-birth-lifestyle that comes from the word of God (obeying the Gospel). The differences between me and my friends who don’t know Jesus should not primarily come from what I don’t like in their lives. They shouldn’t come from putting up a bunch of fences, or highlighting their sin, or rejecting everything they love. The soft differences between me and my neighbors are how I love Jesus, how I serve Whitney, the foundation we build upon to raise children (i.e., the Bible). The hard differences between me and my neighbors would happen if I always talked about being against divorce, or always talked about being against living together before marriage, or always talked about how terrible it is to cuss so much, or always talked about how bad it is to be drunk.
When I love Jesus, serve my wife, and disciple my children, there are plenty enough soft differences that will naturally arise. I don’t need to (nor should I want to) primarily be known for what I am against. This does not portray the Gospel best, though there are times when – as a Christian – I need to say No to some invitations or express the Bible’s disapproval of some lifestyles. But even these moments should be handled with great care, great gentleness, and great kindness. The point is not to show what I am against; the point is to highlight the hope God has called me to by causing me to be born again through Jesus Christ!
So when it comes to relating to friends who don’t know Jesus yet, “soft difference” is right in the middle of the spectrum. On opposite ends of the spectrum are…
(1) No difference.
(2) Hard difference.
Personally, I give in to both of these. I have some friends with whom I purposefully don’t talk about loving Jesus or I purposefully don’t let them see how I serve Whitney. I try way too hard to make it look like there is no difference between us, when in fact, there is. This does not serve my friend at all. For me to withhold the expressions of new birth in Jesus does not bless my friends. It is actually hypocritical – me pretending to be something I am really not.
With other friends, I can quickly highlight the hard differences between me and them. I am quick to speak against things they do, I tend to separate myself from them, my reactions to what they say are dramatic or astounding.
Thankfully, I don’t think I live on either end of the spectrum. But the temptations are so strong! I want to hide (because of fear), or I want to stand out too much (again, because of fear). Fear of man drives my desire to hide because I am afraid they might dislike me, make fun of me, estrange themselves from me, or be turned off to Jesus. And fear of man drives my desire to stand out too much because I am afraid of their perceptions, afraid of what other Christians might think about me, afraid of sending the wrong message at the wrong time. For these reasons and so much more, I need to keep hearing 1 Peter 3:14-16:
But even if you should suffer for righteousness’ sake, you will be blessed. Have no fear of them, nor be troubled, but in your hearts regard Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect, having a good conscience, so that, when you are slandered, those who revile your good behavior in Christ may be put to shame.
thankful for 1 Peter
This fall our church (Core Community Church) is going to track through 1 Peter. At first I had no idea what this would be about or why it might be important for our church. But in the past few weeks, my heart has grown increasingly grateful that we are going to study 1 Peter.
1 Peter is anything but a sexy book. It is simply about solid theology, submission in varying relationships, and suffering – none of which are particularly attractive to any human being. There aren’t many verses in 1 Peter that get me really excited about big things that might happen. There isn’t a boom halfway through the book that gets people out of the seats and in the aisles to cheer on the main event. The book really is about three things:
(1) truths that remain truths regardless of your circumstances,
(2) submission in differing relationships, and
(2) suffering.
But I am so thankful for this now. Here is why. In the past year, Whitney and I have encountered more suffering together than we had combined in the previous 4 years of our marriage. It has felt like one difficulty after another difficulty for a long string of months now, approaching a full year. At first it hit hard, but it seemed like a one-time shot. Then there was another huge blow to my emotions, coming from difficulties in my extended family. Since this was messing with my emotions, it was also messing with our marriage. We were simply both exhausted, especially my interior life. Then there was a slight lull in suffering while God gave us strength to give away to our new born, little baby girl. Just a few months into our daughter’s life, though, there was another blow, this time on Whitney’s side of the family. Shortly after that came two more knocks from my side of the family. Looking back at the past year, the multiple small things do seem to add up. Sickness, cancer, sin, confusion.
Just in the past few weeks, we got to see God work a beautiful miracle in the way he sold our house. In the current economy, we figured it would be nearly impossible to sell, especially considering its location. But we had a realtor come over anyway to advise us. We decided we might as well give it a shot, but before it was ever put on the market our realtor had already found a purchaser. Just yesterday we accepted the official offer, and now we await the closing date while scrambling to find another house or an apartment. The offer was amazing, and we are going to end up making a good sum of money on a house in a bad location right in the middle of a poor economy.
Previously it felt like most things in our life were like this recent sell of our house – amazing, easy, and quick. When big changes happened they were usually exciting changes full of promise. But now – in this moment – it feels like this recent sell of our house is the rare occurrence instead of the common occurrence. Whitney and I are so thankful for our house selling, and we don’t want to downplay it at all. But it is different when it is embedded against a stronger, darker background of suffering that is surrounding us.
In light of that, I am loving 1 Peter – the non-sexy, no-big-boom, truthful book about being born again by God’s word, submitting even when I don’t want to, and suffering together as a people of God. I love it. Each word is for me and Whitney.
Amos 5:5: Worship is about God
For thus says the Lord to the house of Israel: Seek me and live; but do not seek Bethel, and do not enter into Gilgal or cross over to Beersheba; for Gilgal shall surely go into exile, and Bethel shall come to nothing. Amos 5:4-5.
Hundreds of years earlier something amazing had happened. The Hebrews had crossed over the Jordan River on completely dry land. It was a momentous occasion, with the priests holding the ark of the covenant in the middle of the river bed, allowing everyone to pass through. Waters were stopped, pulled apart, dried up, and kept that way for an entire nation to cross a river. If you were a Hebrew, this was a big part of your story. God had promised a land, and this was the moment when your people first went into it. The moment. The moment of promise-made-true.
God acknowledged the moment, too. He asked the Hebrews to set up a memorial so that they would remember it. The memorial was put together by all twelve tribes, bringing unity in history to the Hebrews. God wanted this moment to be remembered. He wanted it to be passed down through generations. In particular, he instructed them, “When your children ask their fathers in times to come, ‘What do these stones mean?’ then you shall let your children know, ‘Israel passed over this Jordan on dry ground.’ For the Lord your God dried up the waters of the Jordan for you until you passed over, as the Lord your God did to the Red Sea, which he dried up for us until we passed over, so that all the people of the earth may know that the hand of the Lord is mighty, that you may fear the Lord your God forever.” Joshua 4:19-24.
A memorial. A moment to remember. This was Gilgal.
Yet now God is telling his people to not enter into Gilgal. Don’t go there. Don’t be around it. Don’t entertain the thought of it. It is almost as though he is telling them to forget about it.
Why? How did such a place full of such history turn into a place God told his people to avoid? This is where Israelites should take their children for field trips or history lessons. This is where they go back to see what God did and how God miraculously fulfilled his promise. This is the story that grandpas were supposed to tell grandkids. So why, now, is God telling them to not go near it?
I will venture a guess. God is instructing his people to not go into Gilgal because the place that was meant to be about worshipping God became a place that was about worship itself. The act of worship was more important than the object of worship. The trip down to Gilgal, the routine of the story, the experience of the place – all of that had replaced the point of the story. The story itself had surpassed the point of the story.
