1 Pet 5

the desired effect

(1 Peter 5)

Jason Procopio

This final chapter of 1 Peter is an absolutely monumental conclusion to this letter. In every sermon, we look at a text in the Bible, we see what God says to us through that specific passage, and then we see how we are called to respond to what God says there—this is the part we usually call the application. The reason I love chapter 5 is that it’s not just a list of commands; it is in fact the application of Peter’s entire letter. 

Peter has told us that we have been called to live as exiles in a world which is no longer our own; he reminded us that God has promised us an inheritance along with his Son, and this inheritance is incentive for us to live godly lives, in obedience to his commandments. But our holiness, our obedience to God, is not an end in itself; when we live for God in our day to day lives, as individuals and as a community of believers, we actually give the world a visible testimony of the gospel. And the Christians to whom Peter is writing will be able to do this in a particular way through the way in which they respond to suffering. They are being persecuted and ridiculed for their faith, so their response to that persecution shows the world what it means to be a Christian—and it is far different than what many of their persecutors might expect.

You see, nearly everything in this letter has been about the relationships that Christians in the church have with people from outside the church: the way we relate to our neighbors, the way we submit to the government, the way we live with our spouses in view of unbelievers, the way we respond to those who insult and mock us for our faith; and Peter’s been examining these situations through the lens of the gospel—how the gospel influences our reactions to the outside world, and how our reactions bear witness to that gospel.

In this final chapter, he takes this same lens of the gospel, and he points it inward—at us. He’s just spent four chapters talking about how the gospel changes the way we relate to the world outside the church; now, how does the gospel change the way we relate to one another? to those inside the church? And then, he takes the lens of the gospel he has been pointing inward so far, and he points it back out again—but really far out. Not just to the world outside, but to the world outside of that world: the spiritual world, where forces more powerful than us wage war for our souls.

In both of these two arenas, Peter highlights some characteristics we should be nourishing amongst ourselves—he gives us six distinct characteristics we should be seeing and growing and manifesting as members of the local body of believers, which together make up the desired effect of what Peter has written.

Humility (v. 1-5)

This first characteristic of humility makes up the largest section of our passage, and I think it’s because it’s potentially the most complex. There are certain things we are all called to do, regardless of what role we occupy in the church (and we’ll see those next). But because in the church we are called to have a certain structure, and people of varying ages, there will be particular temptations to abuse that structure, to take advantage of that age difference.

Peter knows this, and so he begins with the elders. 

So I exhort the elders among you, as a fellow elder and a witness of the sufferings of Christ, as well as a partaker in the glory that is going to be revealed… 

Stop there for a moment.

For those who may not know, the word “elder” is the go-to word in the New Testament for certain qualified men who have the responsibility of leading a local church. (It’s synonymous with words like pastor or overseer. So although I am the lead pastor of this church—as in, that’s what people call me, because I do this full time—I don’t have more authority to lead or decide things than Paul or Arnaud do; we do this together.)

And the first remarkable thing we see here is that Peter leads by example. He doesn’t call himself an apostle, as he did in v. 1, but he calls himself a “fellow elder.” He brings himself down to their level, not suggesting that their roles are exactly the same, but that in God’s eyes no one role is worthy of more importance than another.

The second remarkable thing he says is that he is a witness of the sufferings of Christ. Now, there are many other things he could have said here. He could have called himself a witness of the miracles of Christ, or of the resurrection of Christ—he was there for all that.

Instead, he calls himself a witness of the sufferings of Christ. This is remarkable, because what sufferings of Christ did Peter actually see? Remember the gospels. He saw Jesus’s prayer in the garden; he saw his arrest. He follows them to the place where they’re holding Jesus, waiting off at a distance… And there, fear overtakes him. When asked on three separate occasions whether he is one of Jesus’s disciples, he denies even knowing him. 

And what does he do when the rooster crows? He realizes what he’s done, and he runs away. For the rest of the day, until after Jesus has been crucified, he is nowhere to be seen.

So you see, when Peter calls himself a witness to the sufferings of Christ, he is reminding his readers of his own failure. Because the only sufferings he witnessed were those sufferings he saw while he was actively renouncing his Master. He is deliberately adopting a posture of humility, before exhorting these elders to humility themselves. 

And given the context of the letter so far, it won’t escape the readers that a reminder of Christ’s sufferings is a reminder that we’ll suffer too—so we are to serve in the image of our Master.

He says (v. 2): 

2 …shepherd the flock of God that is among you, exercising oversight, not under compulsion, but willingly, as God would have you; not for shameful gain, but eagerly; 3 not domineering over those in your charge, but being examples to the flock. 4 And when the chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the unfading crown of glory. 

Essentially, he’s warning the elders of these churches of the temptations that will await them. An elder in a church is called to shepherd the flock—and I love that Peter picks up this picture that Jesus himself gave, when he called himself the Good Shepherd who takes care of his sheep. “Shepherd the flock” means, lead the people God has put under your charge. Guide them. Tell them what God tells them to do, and show them what that looks like, in the image of our Good Shepherd Christ, who did the same for us all.

The office of elder or pastor is a dangerous thing—for the elder and for the ones the elder is responsible for. Because either the elder’s qualifications will be in doubt, and he will open himself up to slander and pain and potential damage to the church; or the elder’s qualifications won’t be in doubt, which will lend him a spiritual authority over the people he leads—authority which may be too great to bear.

Anyone who leads, anyone who preaches the Word—legitimately or illegitimately—will be seen by some or by all as having spiritual authority. And where there is authority, there is the potential for abuse. There is the potential to manipulate. There is the potential to use your influence to get what you want.

I don’t think I have to tell you that this is the very antithesis of what it means to be an elder. We have as a model the Chief Shepherd, Jesus Christ, who gave himself for his flock. Who sacrificed for them. Who put their needs before his own, to the point of taking their punishment for their sins. 

Now an elder can’t sacrifice himself for your sins, obviously; but he can and he does sacrifice himself for your growth. He takes the shots so the church doesn’t have to. He takes criticism over decisions made in the church, and he carries the weight of knowing how many of you are hurting and why. 

This sounds bad, and it can feel that way sometimes—but it shouldn’t. We’re called to fulfill our charge willingly, not because we have to; eagerly ready to sacrifice for you rather than earn selfish gain for ourselves; being examples to the flock rather than beating you into submission to make you the way we want you to be.

You see, Peter calls the elders to lead with humility. Have you ever seen someone get on their hands and knees to let someone else stand on their back, to get over a fence or to see from higher up? An elder is a good, qualified elder when he sees himself as the stepladder his church members can stand on, in order to life them higher. That's what he’s talking about. 

(And just to be clear: I’m not saying I do this well—that’s why I haven’t used myself as an example in any of this. I struggle with this, like anyone would; and I’m happy to let God and you all be the judges, to encourage me when I’m doing well, and to call me to accounts when I’m not. But this is what I want to be. This is what keeps me up at night praying, that God would make me this kind of elder, this kind of shepherd.)

Now, after beginning with the humility of the elders, he moves on to the humility of those under the elders’ responsibility—particularly those who are younger.

5 Likewise, you who are younger, be subject to the elders. 

Now I hesitate to even say this, but I can’t avoid it: if you are young (say, a young adult or under), Peter singles you out here. I have a pretty good idea of why he did that, and why he didn’t just say Likewise, ALL of you. It’s not because older church members don’t have to submit to the elders; and it’s not because elders were always really old men at the time (Timothy was a young man who was an elder). 

I have to be careful here; I don’t want you to take it the wrong way. I’m going to be forty in a couple months—how many of you are younger than me? How many are in your early twenties? I generally try to avoid being a condescending older guy, the kind who says things like, “When I was your age we didn’t have these smartphone gadgets—we had telephones that plugged into walls.” (It’s true, and I know I have said that before, but I try not to.) But in this particular case it’s unavoidable—so please know that I’m saying this because I love you, and that I’m not being condescending, just honest.

I’m pretty sure that Peter singles out young people here because there is a natural arrogance that comes with youth. This isn’t a new thing—even if it’s probably more pronounced today. You arrive at an age (usually in mid- to late-adolescence) when you can finally start to understand what adults are saying most of the time; you can participate in their conversations; you start reading the same books they’re reading. 

Then you get a little older, and you start thinking for yourself. And it always seems like you are the first person to think whatever it is you’re thinking, like you're the first person to discover rational thought. So you want to start poking holes in what the old folks are doing, because of course you could do it better. 

Peter’s trying to remind you that the arrogance of youth is misleading. He’s reminding me of that too, because even though I’m older than you guys, I’m younger than a lot of guys in our network of churches, and my gut instinct too is to imagine that I could do it better. We all struggle with this.

So he says, If you are younger, be subject to the elders. You may not do things how they would do it…but they carry a weight on their shoulders that you don’t. People often forget that an elder’s goal is not efficiency, but faithfulness. Sure, there may be more effective ways to accomplish a given goal…but that’s not the main thing they’re after. 

You see, the sacrifice God demands of elders, he demands of all of us—that sacrifice will just play out in different ways depending on who we are. 

Now what does that look like in practice? Does it mean you can’t tell us that you disagree with us? Of course not, and we hope you know that. But it does mean that the church has deemed us qualified to serve in this capacity (according to the qualifications found in 1 Timothy 3 and Titus 1), and we are committed to living according to those qualifications. In many cases, we have information we can’t share with the rest of you, which influence our decisions; and in every case, these decisions have been preceded by much prayer and time in the Word, to allow the Holy Spirit to guide us.

So in these times of disagreement, the question you should ask is not, “Would I do it this way?” or “Do I agree with this decision?” But rather, “Have my elders proven themselves faithful?” And if the answer is yes, you can trust them. You can get on board. You can support them in the load that they have (and they need your support and encouragement).

So that’s humility in elders towards the church, and in church members towards the elders. Now Peter opens it wide open, and says (v. 5b):

Clothe yourselves, all of you, with humility toward one another, for “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.” 

To put it simply: our reflex as Christians should be to say to ourselves, “The church isn’t here for me; I am here for the church.”

Now of course on some level that’s not entirely true; the church is here for you, and for all of us. But the service that comes from the church will only be there if it comes clothed in humility. If everyone comes into the church asking, “What can this church do for me?”, what do you get? You get a group of people who come to a show once a week and who leave; that’s it. They got their fill, so they go back home. Or you get a group of people who are codependent and enabling, who are always looking for what they need by sucking it out of everyone else.

But when you see your brothers and sisters as the priority, rather than your own needs, what happens? You get a family with no one-upmanship. You get disciples who make disciples. God takes care of you through the service you give to them; and since they have that same attitude, when you need help, they’re there for you too, to help you grow. You don’t need to prove yourself to others, you don’t need to put yourself first, because you have the promise that God will exalt you at the proper time.

And Peter says this applies to all of us. Elder and member, young and old, mature believer and new believer—and what is the reason he gives for such an attitude in all of us? Because God opposes the proud and gives grace to the humble. The proud trust in their own strength, and so are always looking for a way to bolster themselves; the first reflex of the humble is to know that they can’t solve their problem on their own, and so to trust in the one who can be what they need: God himself.

And that trust is the second characteristic Peter calls Christians to develop.

Trust (v. 6-7)

6 Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, 7 casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. 

Now we love v. 7; verse 7, you see on coffee cups and t-shirts. You see it on posters with kittens hanging awkwardly from tree branches. And it’s a wonderfully true thing to say: God cares for us, so we can go to him with our worries.

But have you ever had problems feeling like “casting your cares on God” was really making any difference? I feel almost blasphemous saying it, but have you ever prayed and told God your worries, said “Amen,” and then gone right back to worrying? (Am I the only one?) 

This often happens for a reason that is so obvious we forget it—because we took the verse out of its context. “Casting all our anxieties on God” is not the main action we are called to do here; that’s what we do when we vent to a friend—the goal isn’t simply to say what’s worrying us, in order to get it out. 

The main commandment in this verse is to humble ourselves under God’s mighty hand—casting our anxieties on him is the way we do it.

Now what changes in our prayers when the main goal isn’t that God would simply take our worries, but that we might humble ourselves before him? When we humble ourselves before him by casting our anxieties on him, we recognize that yes, God has the power to help us in our troubles, but also the wisdom to know how best to give us that help. As one theologian put it, we accept “the twists and turns of his providence.” We don’t dictate to God what he must do for us—we don’t perform a name-it-and-claim-it kind of prayer. Rather, we accept what God will do for us, because we know he knows our worries, and we know he cares for us…so whatever he gives us is what we need.

So the Christian is called to be humble—elders exercise humble leadership over their church; the church responds with humble submission to their elders; all of us live with humble love for one another; and we come to God with humble trust, knowing he’s taking care of us.

In speaking of the third characteristic we are to have, Peter shifts gears a bit.  He takes the lens of the gospel he has been pointing inward so far, and he points it back out again—but really far out. Not just to the world outside, but to the world outside of that world: the spiritual world, where forces more powerful than us wage war for our souls.

vigilance (v. 8)

8 Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. 

When we know that God is caring for us, and we humbly submit to his providence in our lives, there is a whole heap of things we no longer have to worry about. It clears our minds to focus, no longer on the potential worries surrounding us, but on the task in front of us.

This is the third time Peter has exhorted his readers to be sober-minded in this letter. And in case you’ve forgotten, it’s a call to rid our minds of what is unimportant—to set our minds on things that matter. 

And this time, in the next few verses, Peter tells us what that is—what is it that we should have our attention set on?

The first is the reality that things are way more serious than we realize. People who hold to the theology of the Reformation (like we do) love to speak about the sovereignty of God—and if you’ve been here for a while, you know I’m no exception. I don’t know how a Christian doesn’t go completely nuts without dwelling on God’s sovereignty, pretty much constantly.

But we can easily fall into the trap of leaning so hard on his sovereignty—casually saying, “No worries, God’s got this”—that we neglect to be mindful of the adversary who is gunning for us. 

C.S. Lewis famously, said, “There are two equal and opposite errors into which our race can fall about the devils. One is to disbelieve in their existence. The other is to believe, and to feel an excessive and unhealthy interest in them.” 

So we have to be careful to affirm what the Bible affirms. The devil exists. Satan exists. He is a demonic being in rebellion against God, who has leadership over many demons like himself, who is far more powerful than we are, and he is prowling around us like a lion, looking for an opportunity to sink his teeth in us and eat us alive. 

Horror movies (even for those of us who never watch them) have built up categories in our minds for ways to spot the devil at work—doors slamming shut on their own, people speaking in different voices, heads spinning around, and so on.

But even if there may be a little truth to some of that, those kinds of supernatural manifestations are not the main way the devil operates. 

So what does he do? The image I always have in my mind is kind of silly, but I actually think it’s pretty close to the truth. Most of the time, the devil is sort of like those girls you see on The Price Is Right—the ones who show off the prizes you can win and give their attractive smiles. 

Weirdly, that is what Satan does; his main activity in this world is not oppression, but attraction to sin. He doesn’t—he can’t—force us to do things we don’t want to do. Rather, he attracts us by putting sin in front of our eyes and making it seem pretty. He finds us in situations in which we are exposed to temptations, and he presses—he stokes the fire of our sinful desires, and convinces us that rebelling against God is what we want. It’s what he did to Adam and Eve in the garden; it’s what he did to Judas when he betrayed Jesus. This is how he gets us; this is how he seeks to destroy us. 

This commandment to be sober-minded and watchful—to pay attention to the devil who is trying to destroy you—is one of the most neglected commandments in the Bible, amongst people in our theological tradition. And if you needed proof, think of all the times you put yourself in situations in which you knew you would be exposed to temptation to sin…and you did it anyway. (Think of someone prone to lust—that is, all of us, man or woman—sleeping over at your boyfriend or your girlfriend’s house, when no one else is around to see what goes on. You may not do anything, but you could—and that possibility is a risk. Think of someone prone to anger going on social media during an election, or to check out the crazy commentaries on theological Facebook groups.) You knew it was dangerous, you knew it would be hard to resist, but you put yourself there anyway, because your desire to enjoy whatever it was you went there for was greater than your desire to resist temptation. Even if you managed not to fall into, you took the risk—and that risk is proof that you underestimated the devil, that you weren’t paying attention.

Wayne Grudem says this: “The opposite of this sober watchfulness [to which Peter calls us] is a kind of spiritual drowsiness in which one sees and responds to situations no differently than unbelievers, and God’s perspective on each event is seldom if ever considered.”

Guys, the devil is real; and he is coming. So be sober-minded. Be watchful. Be ready.

Now that’s the scary news. The good news is that thanks to God’s work in Christ, thanks to his sovereignty, we CAN resist the devil—and that resistance is the fourth characteristic Peter calls us to.

Resistance (v. 9)

9 Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world. 

So while Peter encourages us to be watchful and pay attention to the devil’s schemes, he also reminds us that we need not be afraid of him. Jesus Christ lived, died and was raised in order to reconcile us to God. He gave us his Holy Spirit to call us out from death to life, to give us faith in Christ. It is by that faith that we are saved, and it is by that faith that we live for God, that we grow in our knowledge of him, that we grow in conformity to his Son.

This faith is the weapon with which we resist the devil. To be “firm in your faith” means to have trust that God is at work in our trials and will give us victory in them. We may not get out of our trials, but by this faith we will not cave under them.

And once again, Peter reiterates what we saw the last two weeks—resisting the devil, resisting temptation, is a painful, difficult experience; but the suffering we will face when we do is not unusual. How many of you who aren’t naturally athletic have tried to take up some kind of physical exercise? How difficult is it to persevere and keep at it if you're doing it alone? We are far better able to keep going when we know we’re not the only ones doing the same work.

So Peter says, as you resist, as you fight, remember that you’re not alone. The same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world. Whether it’s persecution for your faith or suffering because you’re resisting temptation, what you’re suffering is not unusual, and it is not unique to you. Keep going.

And what will happen if we do resist the devil? if we do persevere in our faith?

Hope (v. 10-11)

10 And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you. 11 To him be the dominion forever and ever. Amen. 

The longest night of my life was the night after we returned home from a trip to see my parents in Florida. For years, Loanne has had this habit when she gets on planes—she takes out some hand sanitizing gel, puts it on a tissue, and disinfects every surface around her: the tray table, the screen, the armrests, the seatbelt. Every time she did this I would roll my eyes—like, how paranoid can you get?

And then we flew back from Florida seven or eight years ago (Jack was a baby at the time). And around midnight that night, I woke up, and I was sicker than I have ever been in my life. (I now do the exact same disinfection routine every time I get on a plane.) That night I threw up—I counted—twenty-three times in ten hours. I was positive I was going to die.

A night with no sleep is always long; a night with no sleep when you are feeling sicker than you thought possible, is an eternity. 

At least that’s how it felt. In reality, it was about ten hours. Not that long. But because I was so miserable, time seemed to stretch on forever.

It’s important to see that Peter says, After you have suffered A LITTLE WHILE. This is an intentionally vague phrase; he doesn’t say just how long “a little while” is. It could be a day; it could be a year, or several years; or it could be the rest of your life, until you die. 

In all of these cases, his point is this: what you’re suffering may be incredibly difficult, but it won’t last as long as you think. Even a lifetime’s worth of suffering is not that long from the perspective of eternity. Seriously, in ten billion years, when you think back on your life, a lifetime of years on this earth will be nothing. Seventy, eighty, ninety years? Compared to eternity? It’ll seem like nothing more than a bad dream—it feels long when you’re in it, but when you’re out, you see how short it actually was.

And we can endure this short suffering because we know that when it is over, and through it all, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you. This is the hope of chapters 3 and 4 of this letter: our suffering is not lost; it is not useless; God is using it to grow us up in him. And here the promise goes even further: what is lost will be restored; we “elect exiles” will be established in God’s kingdom, brought home again after a long sojourn in this world.

Finally, Peter ends with a more or less traditional salutation, but which underlines two final characteristics we are called to have while we wait for the accomplishment of this future hope.

Brotherly love (v. 12-14)

12 By Silvanus, a faithful brother as I regard him, I have written briefly to you, exhorting and declaring that this is the true grace of God. Stand firm in it. 13 She who is at Babylon, who is likewise chosen, sends you greetings, and so does Mark, my son. 14 Greet one another with the kiss of love. 

Peace to all of you who are in Christ. 

As is often the case, Peter says a good deal in a short space here. This is both an example of the brotherly love we should endeavor to develop amongst us, and a summary of everything he has said.

First, the examples. Peter mentions Silvanus, who was apparently the same man Luke calls Silas in the book of Acts; he more than likely brought this letter to the churches, delivering it himself from place to place. He sends greetings from Mark, the author of the gospel of Mark, who worked closely with Peter (this close association, by the way, is one of the reasons why Mark’s gospel was accepted into the canon of Scripture).

And he sends greetings on behalf of She who is at Babylon, who is likewise chosen. Now if we take this at face value, it’s kind of weird. By the time Peter wrote this letter, the ancient city of Babylon in Mesopotamia was small and obscure. And even if it wasn’t, there was no single woman famous enough for the churches to know who he was talking about just by mentioning where she was. (Even the apostles, who were very well-known, are identified by name when they are spoken of.)

The best conclusion is that She who is at Babylon is a reference to the church in Rome. Remember, Peter uses the imagery of the church as the new people of God, exiled in a foreign world. And where was the first people of God most famously exiled to? Babylon. 

So these greetings are examples of the brotherly love which crosses geographical lines. We are not united to our fellow believers by affinity or common interest, but by the grace of Christ which saved us. The expression of affection from one church to several others—most of which contain believers they had never met—is beautiful and remarkable.

And if this love can exist for other believers we don’t even know, how much more should it exist amongst us? Greet one another with the kiss of love, he says in v. 14. Now that doesn’t have to be a literal kiss—he’s saying that we are called to express our love for one another in visible, practical ways that are appropriate to the situation in which we find ourselves. 

Our love for one another should be seen—not just by those outside the church, but most especially by those inside. It’s a desperate failure when wounded people meet Christ and are saved…and enter into a family of believers where they are not loved well. Lord preserve us from such a failure—our love must be evident and visible and tangible.

Firmness in Grace (v. 12)

Now, finally, Peter summarizes his entire letter by saying (v. 12):

I have written briefly to you, exhorting and declaring that this is the true grace of God. Stand firm in it. 

He writes this letter to help these suffering Christians make sense of what they’re experiencing, to remind them that they’re suffering isn’t a sign that they’re missing the mark or that God has abandoned them. He’s writing to tell them—very clearly— “You’re on the right track. You’re doing well. Keep going.”

And how does he do it? By reminding them of God’s unfailing grace towards them. This letter contains a combination of commandments (exhortations) and doctrine (teachings on the true grace of God). It is no accident that Peter puts these two together—they are the entire life he describes in this letter. Every single aspect of our Christian life is a product of continual grace—God grants us salvation, growth, protection, sustenance, perseverance in suffering. It is his grace which allows us to live as Peter calls us to live here. 

It is with this grace that this letter begins, and it is with this grace that this letter ends.

So we must stand firm in it, for if we forget the grace of our God—if we neglect the gospel in our hearts and in our minds—we will not be able to live for him. It is by his grace we stand, and it is by his grace we live. 

Stand firm in it. Keep going. You’re doing well, and it will soon be over. At the right time, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you. Stand firm in that hope.