1 Pet 3.21-22

baptism & the flood

(1 Peter 3.21-22)

Jason Procopio

Most of us, I think, have gotten used to the pandemic by now. Even in the life of the church, the majority of our activities continue, despite the fact that we’re confined at home. We have our services, we have our members’ class next Saturday, we’re starting up our pre-marital and post-marital classes… None of it’s quite the same—we really miss being together—but we’ve been able to find at least a suitable, temporary approximation of normal.

But there is a key category of church life for which we haven’t been able to do that—because there is no temporary replacement possible for it. And that is what the church has typically called “the sacraments”—baptism and the Lord’s Supper. We can’t do those things because they each require physical elements: most importantly, both involve the physical presence of the church. And that’s the one thing we just can’t provide right now.

The reason I bring this up is because last week when we went through the end of 1 Peter 3, we skipped over the last two verses of that chapter. The end of 1 Peter 3 contains two pretty difficult verses—v. 19, where Peter talks about Christ preaching to “the spirits in prison” (we saw that last week); and v. 21, where he makes a correlation between Noah’s Ark and baptism. 

I just didn’t feel like we had enough time to process both of those things at once. And in addition, since the beginning of the year we’ve had two people ask to be baptized, and we really want to baptize them. Until the confinement ends at least, it will be impossible to do that. So I thought it’d be good to take some time today to at least give us something to hold us over until the day when we can baptize again, by taking a deep dive into baptism, in these last two verses of 1 Peter 3.

So we’re going to handle this in several parts. Before we go to the text, we’re going to briefly talk about what the sacraments are, and how they relate; and then we’re going to go to 1 Peter 3.21-22, to see what Peter has to say about baptism, and how he deepens our understanding of it.

(And we’re going to be doing some heavy lifting this morning, so we’ll be taking two breaks to stand up and sing.)

Many of you grew up in churches and in situations that apply extremely strict rules to baptism, often based on arbitrary criteria set up by those in charge (like whether or not they feel like you’re spiritually mature or not). While I don’t think that’s what the Bible calls us to do (I’ll explain why in a bit), it’s important to give these churches (those which operate like this) the benefit of the doubt. Because the main reason most of them apply such strict rules to baptism is that for them, baptism is a really big deal. 

And they’re right. It is a really big deal.

It is one of only two “sacraments” we recognize in Protestantism (the other being the Lord’s Supper). The Westminster Confession of Faith defines a sacrament as follows: 

“Sacraments are holy signs and seals of the covenant of grace, immediately instituted by God, to represent Christ and his benefits, and to confirm our interest in him; as also to put a visible difference between those that belong unto the church and the rest of the world; and solemnly to engage them to the service of God in Christ, according to his word.”

First of all, the sacraments are signs. They are pedagogical tools in God’s hands—tools he uses to teach us. John Frame is helpful here: 

“[The sacraments] symbolize the gospel and teach us authoritatively what the gospel is. They teach us not by words, but by pictures, by actions. In baptism, not only do we hear about our cleansing, but we see and feel it, depicted dramatically. In the Supper, not only do we hear about Jesus’ death for us, but we see his body given for us, and we taste, smell, and touch it. As the Reformers used to say, the sacraments are visible words. They supplement the Word of God by divinely authorized dramatic images.”

Secondly, sacraments are divine action. They are the means by which God does something in us. The Westminster Confession describes the sacraments as seals—like the seal on a birth certificate, or on a certificate of naturalization, which proves authoritatively that this person is a citizen of this country. Through the sacraments, God confirms and guarantees his promises—that is, he looks at all of the promises God has made to his covenant people, and then in the sacraments, he applies those promises to us.

So this is why we call the sacraments means of grace. They are special ways in which God brings the gospel to bear on our hearts and lives,  in a particular way, to change us. Of course, we don’t believe that activity is automatic (as the Catholics do); Scripture is abundantly clear that the sacraments do their work in us by faith. But when we participate in their work by faith, they are marvelous and mysterious means of grace to us.

So we have these two sacraments, set up by Christ in the Bible: baptism and the Lord’s Supper. And it’s absolutely vital to understand that the two are fundamentally related—you cannot have one without the other. 

Baptism is, first of all, a sign—a picture of what Christ did in us through his life, death and resurrection (we’ll get into the specifics a bit later). It is, additionally, a seal. It is the rite of entrance into the universal church. It is God’s way of publicly confirming that we who are baptized belong to his church. It’s the official stamp he puts on the “new birth” certificate. 

This is one reason why whenever possible, we perform baptisms with the members of the local church present. I know baptism is a time when we want family and friends to come, to hear our testimony; we see it as an evangelism tool. And there’s nothing wrong with that. But baptism doesn’t mainly concern our friends and family; it concerns the church, because it is through baptism that the believer publicly declares, “I belong to the church,” and the church publicly testifies to that reality. If you had to make the choice in who should be present at a baptism—our unbelieving friends and family, or the church—I’d choose the church every time, because that’s what baptism is about. (Thankfully, we almost never have to choose between the two; we can do both.)

In the same way, the Lord’s Supper is a sign and a seal. If baptism is a rite of initiation into the church, the Lord’s Supper is a sign of continuing fellowship with God in the church. That’s why baptism only happens once, while we take the Lord’s Supper every week. Every week we come together as naturalized citizens of God’s kingdom to renew our commitment to him; and at the same time, in the taking of the Lord’s Supper, God reminds us of his commitment to us. 

And this is why baptism and the Lord’s Supper necessarily go together. Baptism makes no sense if you are not committed to the life of the church into which you’re being baptized; and the Lord’s Supper makes no sense if you haven’t been brought into the life of the church through baptism. Now, because we don’t have easy access to a baptistry in our church, we don’t want to make people wait for months to be able to participate in the Lord’s Supper; but you should not take the Lord’s Supper if you have no intention of being baptized. And if you have been baptized, you should not refrain from taking the Lord’s Supper. They are two sides of the same coin. 

Baptism and the Flood (v. 21) 

Now there’s a lot more we could say about both, but the point of our time this morning isn’t to talk about the sacraments generally, but to see specifically why Peter says what he says about baptism at the end of 1 Peter 3. So let’s read the text together—in its context, starting from v. 18.

18 For Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh but made alive in the spirit, 19 in which he went and proclaimed to the spirits in prison, 20 because they formerly did not obey, when God’s patience waited in the days of Noah, while the ark was being prepared, in which a few, that is, eight persons, were brought safely through water. 21 Baptism, which corresponds to this, now saves you, not as a removal of dirt from the body but as an appeal to God for a good conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ, 22 who has gone into heaven and is at the right hand of God, with angels, authorities, and powers having been subjected to him. 

So we saw verses 13 to 20 over the last two weeks: Peter tells us that when we suffer for the gospel, we should use that suffering as an opportunity to witness for the gospel, and he gives two reasons why. 

Firstly, because Christ suffered in order to bring us to God (v. 18). Peter reminds us that Christ also suffered for the gospel—suffered to save us—and he gives another example of what this looks like, in the person of Noah. He said that Christ, in a spiritual sense, proclaimed the coming judgment of God though Noah, while he was building the ark and while hostile unbelievers surrounded him. 

The second reason why we are to have courage in the midst of persecution—courage to use our suffering as an opportunity to share the gospel with gentleness and respect—is very simple. We can have courage in our suffering because we know that God will save us, as he saved Noah, and as he saved Christ.

All that, we saw last week. 

But that’s why he turns to the subject of baptism here. He sets up the image in v. 20, when he says that in the ark, Noah and his family were brought safely through water. Then he continues, v. 21: 

21 Baptism, which corresponds to this, now saves you, not as a removal of dirt from the body but as an appeal to God for a good conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ...

So here’s why Peter makes this link between the story of Noah and baptism: both are images of salvation through judgment. In both cases, the instrument of judgment is water: in the flood, God literally exercised his judgment through water;  and in baptism, water is the symbol of the judgment given to Christ instead of us. 

It may sound strange to say that these are pictures of salvation through judgment—most people think about salvation as a means from getting out of judgment. But the Bible is clear that there is no salvation without judgment, because when God judges, he judges our sin, and sin cannot just be swept under the rug. Sin is far more than just wrong actions—sin is the human heart’s disposition to reject God. And that disposition is infinitely serious, because God is infinitely worthy of our worship and our lives; and on top of that, he created each of us in his own image, and only commands what is good for us. So sin is our heart’s desire to not just reject God, but also to reject what makes us human, and what makes life worthwhile. All sin is a crime against God, and all sin is a crime against humanity. So all sin deserves punishment.

And because God is just, he must punish all sin; he can’t just overlook it or forget it.

So just think for a moment about what that means for Noah. God gave Noah and his family a way of escaping his judgment in the flood. But that salvation was imperfect, because even if the sin of humanity (collectively) was punished in the flood, Noah’s sin, and the sin of his family, was left unpunished, at least for the moment. So what happens after the waters recede in Genesis 8-9? Sin reasserts its grip on humanity pretty much as soon as Noah and his family exit the ark. 

God judges the world for its sin, but that judgment doesn’t solve the ultimate problem of sin. And it wasn’t meant to. God judged humanity in the flood to show us what humanity deserves, and how patient God is to not judge humanity again in that way. If he had exercised justice in the strictest sense of the word, Noah and his family would have died too—and humanity would have been no more. But God is gracious, and he is patient. After showing us what we deserve by sending the flood, at just the right time, God exercised his perfect judgment in the person of Jesus Christ.

Christ, the Son of God, took on a human nature, lived a perfect life, took our sins on himself, and was punished in our place. So our salvation comes about through judgment too—it’s just that our judgment was placed on Christ instead of us. Christ was declared sin for us, so that we might be declared righteous. And because of Christ’s perfect life, death and resurrection, God declares us righteous, and gives us eternal life in him.

So you see, we have a picture, and we have the reality.

We have an instrument of judgment—the flood on one hand; and the wrath of God against sin on the other.

We have a vehicle of salvation—the ark which protected Noah and his family in the flood; and Christ himself, who protects us from God’s wrath against sin.

And we have life as a result—physical, finite life for Noah, his family, the animals and the rest of humanity; and eternal life for us in Christ.

So here’s what this all has to do with baptism. God gave us a picture of salvation through judgment in the story of the flood and the ark. In baptism, God comes full circle, and gives us another picture. The water of baptism is like the waters of judgment—like the waters of the flood. When we get into the water to be baptized, we should be reminded of the flood, and think, THAT is what I deserve. 

So we go down into the water—figuratively speaking, we go down into judgment. And many people actually do instinctively feel what they should feel—going into the water makes a lot of people nervous. I remember when I baptized Garance—she’s really tall, and she’d just had surgery on her knee a few weeks before, so she couldn’t bend her legs. So she just fell back, almost hit her head on the side of the baptistry—I pulled her back at the last second, lost my grip on the hand she was using to hold her nose, so she lost her footing and her feet came up out of the water… I don’t know if it was stressful for her, but my heart was racing. 

Going under the water like that takes trust in the person doing the baptizing—it takes trust that we will indeed come back up out of the water, safe and sound. But we do. (I’ve never heard of anyone drowning in a baptism.) We go down under the water, then we come back out again, alive. It’s a picture of salvation through judgment. We go through the judgment…and we are completely protected, because we are in Christ, and HE takes the judgment for us. 

Baptism and the Conscience (v. 21-22)

So let’s look at v. 21 again (we’re going to take it little by little): 

21 Baptism, which corresponds to this [to the flood], now saves you… 

A lot of people have taken this to mean that the act of baptism itself is what saves you; that you cannot be saved until you are baptized. Clearly that’s not true, because Jesus told the thief on the cross that that very day, he would be with him in paradise (Luke 23.43), and that thief wasn’t baptized. 

So that’s not what Peter’s saying. He actually explains himself when he says, 

 Baptism...now saves you, not as a removal of dirt from the body…

Okay, so what saves us isn’t the outward, physical act of baptism, which can only get the dirt off the outside of our bodies. Rather it is: 

an appeal to God for a good conscience… 

What saves us isn’t the outward, physical act of baptism, but the inward, spiritual work that God does IN us, the work which baptism symbolizes. God opens our eyes to see the truth of the gospel; he gives us faith and draws us to his Son; and that faith that God gives us drives us to repent: to turn away from our sin and to follow Christ and obey his commands. That faith that God gives us—and the repentance it produces in us—are what saves us. So even if Peter’s grammar is really strange and hard to decipher, by saying it this way he’s safeguarding us against any mystical view of baptism which would suggest the act itself saves us. It’s not the act of baptism which saves us, but the faith that God gives us, which causes us to repent, to appeal to God for a good conscience.

By the way, this is one of the main reasons why we don’t baptize babies at Eglise Connexion—babies can’t appeal to God for a good conscience. They don’t know what that means, and they can’t make that decision.

But if we’re honest, we have a hard time understand what it means too, don’t we? How do we “appeal to God for a good conscience”? It seems to me that we could only have a good conscience if we’ve always obeyed perfectly. Jesus has a good conscience, because he never sinned. But we have sin in our past, and we know we will have sin in our future…so we can’t have an absolutely clean conscience, right? 

Wrong. For two reasons.

Besides Jesus Christ (who never sinned), there is only one category of person who can truly have a good conscience before God, and that is a forgiven person. When we are baptized, we appeal to God for a good conscience—not just for today’s sins, but for yesterday’s sins, and tomorrow’s sins as well. And the only way we can have a clean conscience despite our sin is by knowing that sin has already been punished. Already been judged. Already been removed. We can have a clean conscience because we know our sin is no longer sitting on our shoulders. Christ took it, and he put it on himself, and he was punished for it. And so we’re free.

The second reason we can have a clean conscience is because Christ was raised from the dead. 

Baptism…now saves you, not as a removal of dirt from the body but as an appeal to God for a good conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ...

When Christ took on a human nature, he came down into our world—our world which was corrupted and broken by sin. And you can see the effects of our sin on Christ in the gospels—he got tired after long walks; he got hungry; he got thirsty; he was troubled and anguished over the pain that was awaiting him. But when he was raised from the dead, that resurrection marked his exit from the world of death and judgment. He resurrected in a glorified, perfected body, no longer subject to the effects of sin. 

And guys, listen closely—when we place our faith in Christ, when we repent of our sins, we are united to Christ AS HE IS RIGHT NOW. When Christ saves us, he takes us through judgment, and then resurrects us with him. When we go down into the water, remember that we went through judgment with him, like Noah in the ark (and he brought us through safe and sound); and when we come out of the water, we remember that in a spiritual sense, we have exited this world of death and judgment, just as he has. Physically, we’re still here. And we still see echoes of that sin in ourselves. 

But in a much more real sense (as we’ve been seeing since the beginning of this letter), this world is no longer our home. We have exited the kingdom of sin and death, and we have been brought into the kingdom of God. 

That is what baptism shows us: it gives us a picture of this transfer of power—from death to life, from sin to Christ. 

But it doesn’t just show us these realities; it marks us in these realities. Baptism is both a sign and a seal: it isn’t just something we do, but something which God does in us, through faith. 

Because after all, how do we know we won’t reject Christ? How do we know that this salvation will last?

Because we are in Christ now, and he has all authority (v. 22):  

…through the resurrection of Jesus Christ, 22 who has gone into heaven and is at the right hand of God, with angels, authorities, and powers having been subjected to him. 

We’ve been seeing it since the beginning of the letter. Our faith will not protect us from suffering in this world. (It may even add to our suffering.) It will not keep us from getting sick, or from being persecuted, or from being discouraged.

But our faith—if it is faith in the biblical sense, faith which comes from God—will protect us from anything that could come against us and cause us to lose our salvation. Why? Because Christ is sitting on the throne in heaven, and every being with any kind of spiritual power to deceive us—angel or demon—they are all now subject to him. He took on a human nature, was punished in our place, for our sin…so it is absolutely inconceivable that a Savior who did that much to save us would now allow anything to rob us of that salvation, when he has the power to prevent it. 

If he saved us, he will keep us.

Conclusion

So there are two things we need to consider as we end today—two ways in which this text calls us to respond.

First of all, this text speaks to those who are listening who maybe don’t know Christ, or who have begun to live for Christ but who haven’t yet been baptized. And it says very clearly: Repent and be baptized!

Notice that Peter simply assumes in v. 21 that every Christian to whom he is writing is saved, and has been baptized. He doesn’t tell them to be baptized because he assumes all of them already have been. Why? Because Christ commanded baptism, and because baptism doesn’t exist for people who have reached a certain level of spiritual maturity—baptism is for everyone who has placed their faith in Christ, even if it was just this morning that it happened!

Now of course baptism has always been difficult for our church, because we don’t have our own building; we have to wait to use another church’s baptistry. And it’s even more difficult now, in confinement—we can’t well baptize you if we can’t get to you. 

But when the confinement is lifted, one of the first things we want to do is to baptize those Christians who have faith, but who haven’t yet been baptized. So if you have placed your faith in Christ, and you’d like to be baptized as your first step into the life of the church, please contact us—all our info is on the church’s website. We want to get you baptized ASAP.

Secondly, this text speaks to those of us who are Christians, and who have been baptized. Peter tells us to remember what our baptism means, and to live our baptism every day. 

We spoke earlier about how God saves us. God transforms our hearts and gives us faith (that’s what the Bible calls “regeneration”, or “new birth”, or what we means when we speak about “conversion”); and that faith drives us to turn away from our sin and to follow Christ and obey him (that’s what the Bible calls “repentance”). It is that process that baptism images for us—that process of new birth and repentance. 

And if you think about the implications of that, you will come to one unavoidable fact: baptism means absolutely nothing if it doesn’t truly reflect a changed life. Without faith and repentance, it’s just a dip in a small pool. 

Baptism without faith and repentance means nothing, because baptism assumes that obedience—that’s the whole point. It shows us a picture of the thing that makes us able to love for Christ. Faith is so much more than intellectual assent to a doctrine. You might accept that God exists, or that Christ died for our sins. Satan does too. If that acceptance doesn’t drive you to obedience, then it is not faith. (And Peter’s been clear on this since the beginning too—as he said in chapter 1 verse 14: “As obedient children, do not be conformed to the passions of your former ignorance, but as he who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct, since it is written, “You shall be holy, for I am holy.”)

So brothers and sisters, if you have been baptized upon your profession of faith, that baptism still means something. It is a seal on your life, which was witnessed by other members of the body of Christ, and which means that you are no longer who you once were. You are no longer a citizen of this world; you belong to the kingdom of God, and you have the joy of following in your Savior’s footsteps.

So if you have been baptized, then live in obedience. Every day. You have made an appeal to God for a good conscience, and he has made you able to HAVE a good conscience, because he has made you able to obey. 

So let your life reflect your baptism. Live your repentance. Savor the good conscience God has given you.