Reading:
1 Peter 1:3-9
Devotional:
Praise with my whole heart!
Because You do great, majestic, splendid things.
Gratitude with my whole heart!
Because Your work is memorable, gracious, and compassionate.
Awe with my whole heart!
Because You are faithful, trustworthy and just.
What does it really look like to take off old grave clothes? Imagine Lazarus, coming out of the grave and peeling off his mummy wrappings. At best, maybe we could kindly say that it’s out of place or unusual, but the reality is that it’s uncomfortable to watch and a struggle to experience. How do you get your own hands and feet free? And it’s new for everyone—no one has seen someone raised to life; there’s not a how-to guide for helping people out of their burial clothes. And what if you’re not really enthusiastic about getting up close and personal with a recently dead person and their (likely) smelly clothes? There’s not a formula or best practice to apply, there’s nothing that tells you whether it’s better to start with the head or the legs. But Lazarus must change out of the clothes; resurrection has already happened. Uncomfortable as the transition may be, the life ahead holds too much promise to stay in his old condition.
Fast forward to Jesus’ own resurrection, and the apostles face the same confrontation. Their faith, as we discussed on Sunday, is not in believing Christ the Resurrection (whom they saw first-hand), but rather is in the implications of the Kingdom unfolding. Practically, it is in the unwrapping—uncomfortable, clumsy and awkward as it may be—because the new Kingdom must be realized. Change must occur.
Which brings us to the accompanying lectionary text in 1 Peter this week. If we read the few extra verses just before the passage begins, we learn this is written to “those who reside as aliens” and are scattered throughout modern-day Turkey. They are possibly Gentile Christians, possibly Jews who are now converted to Christianity, or a mix of both, and they are experiencing trials. We don’t know the specifics of their distress, but we’ve all had our own similar moments. We’ve experienced what it is like to understand the kindness and goodness of God, to hold the hope of redeemed creation, and yet find ourselves in the friction of old kingdom habits and systems. Perhaps we can imagine that shedding grave clothes is still as awkward as it was with Lazarus for these early Christians. That uncovering and revealing the Kingdom is not always comfortable or obvious or embraced.
So Peter offers to the early Christians of Asia Minor (and us) comma-laden sentence after sentence expounding on the richness of God’s intentional love toward us, of that Apostolic faith that we the readers (both now and then) share in, and of the present and real impact in our lives. These are the kind of long, dependent sentences that you have to re-read to follow. They’re also the kind of sentences that grammar teachers love to use for diagramming exercises because they fill up a whole page with all the clauses and phrases and diagonal lines. But tucked in the profound, weighty statements of the new Kingdom, Peter chooses words that will comfort and encourage those early Christians (and us too).
Even as we begin the chapter, Peter notes we are living as aliens, but this isn’t necessarily language of separation from the people and culture around them. No, instead, he adds words that remind us we are, and have always been, part of God’s intention. These Gentiles, too, are “chosen” like God’s chosen people; they too are sprinkled with the blood of Jesus Christ, just like Israel in the Passover. Now the landscape is different, and the new Kingdom is for all. It might feel like this new way of doing things is foreign, but take heart, we’re all living in this new Kingdom.
And it is a Kingdom characterized by God’s mercy and love directed toward us. The same mercy that causes us to be born again—at His doing! He reserves an inheritance for us, uses His power to protect us. These are words of intention and action, and Peter is reminding us that this Kingdom reflects God’s meaningful favor toward us. The trials are just the unwrapping, but the how is established. It’s through His love, at His mercy, by His hand.
He reminds us too of what we’re unwrapping in our inheritance: it’s change that doesn’t fade, doesn’t spoil, doesn’t go out of fashion. It’s the permanent restructuring of the world. And in this hope, Peter offers, we rejoice. Because when the grave clothes fall away, what is revealed and restored includes us, bringing inexpressible joy, full of glory, resulting in praise. These are words of life, of salvation.
So, early Christians, you’re right where you should be, your faith deepening in the uncovering of the new Kingdom. It might feel foreign, it might seem distressful, it might present challenges. Early Christians, you love Him, and you believe. And the return is richer, enduring, precious life ahead.
Us too, in our hump days and trials, in the systems that still insist on the old kingdoms and the old ways, we rejoice. Because these grave clothes have to go! (Even if they are weird and smelly and difficult to remove.) We rejoice at the hope of what we are now living in through the resurrection of Jesus Christ—the expression of God’s love and intention.
Seen and heard, deed and word
Belief is our inheritance.
Remembered, expected, delivered, protected.
Redemption is our heritage.
A Prayer for Each Moment
God Who Gives,
You breathed out, again and again, giving us life in creation, rescue in desperation, and comfort in companionship. Let us be believing, with more joy than we can express, that we might see creation made peacefully whole and that our faith might yield praise, honor, and glory to You.
Amen.
A Prayer for Each Other
Our Father,
You have a track record of rescue and redemption. As You always have and do, help those who are distressed, those who are facing struggles and doubts, those who feel they’re at a dead end with no escape, filling them with living hope and overflowing joy. Give us words of gratitude, that we too can marvel, “Who is like You, majestic in holiness, awesome in praises, working wonders?”
Amen
Blessing
This week, may we approach our distresses, doubts, and struggles with hope, our faith encouraged by the Holy Spirit in the life of the resurrection.
1 Peter 1:3-9
Devotional:
Praise with my whole heart!
Because You do great, majestic, splendid things.
Gratitude with my whole heart!
Because Your work is memorable, gracious, and compassionate.
Awe with my whole heart!
Because You are faithful, trustworthy and just.
What does it really look like to take off old grave clothes? Imagine Lazarus, coming out of the grave and peeling off his mummy wrappings. At best, maybe we could kindly say that it’s out of place or unusual, but the reality is that it’s uncomfortable to watch and a struggle to experience. How do you get your own hands and feet free? And it’s new for everyone—no one has seen someone raised to life; there’s not a how-to guide for helping people out of their burial clothes. And what if you’re not really enthusiastic about getting up close and personal with a recently dead person and their (likely) smelly clothes? There’s not a formula or best practice to apply, there’s nothing that tells you whether it’s better to start with the head or the legs. But Lazarus must change out of the clothes; resurrection has already happened. Uncomfortable as the transition may be, the life ahead holds too much promise to stay in his old condition.
Fast forward to Jesus’ own resurrection, and the apostles face the same confrontation. Their faith, as we discussed on Sunday, is not in believing Christ the Resurrection (whom they saw first-hand), but rather is in the implications of the Kingdom unfolding. Practically, it is in the unwrapping—uncomfortable, clumsy and awkward as it may be—because the new Kingdom must be realized. Change must occur.
Which brings us to the accompanying lectionary text in 1 Peter this week. If we read the few extra verses just before the passage begins, we learn this is written to “those who reside as aliens” and are scattered throughout modern-day Turkey. They are possibly Gentile Christians, possibly Jews who are now converted to Christianity, or a mix of both, and they are experiencing trials. We don’t know the specifics of their distress, but we’ve all had our own similar moments. We’ve experienced what it is like to understand the kindness and goodness of God, to hold the hope of redeemed creation, and yet find ourselves in the friction of old kingdom habits and systems. Perhaps we can imagine that shedding grave clothes is still as awkward as it was with Lazarus for these early Christians. That uncovering and revealing the Kingdom is not always comfortable or obvious or embraced.
So Peter offers to the early Christians of Asia Minor (and us) comma-laden sentence after sentence expounding on the richness of God’s intentional love toward us, of that Apostolic faith that we the readers (both now and then) share in, and of the present and real impact in our lives. These are the kind of long, dependent sentences that you have to re-read to follow. They’re also the kind of sentences that grammar teachers love to use for diagramming exercises because they fill up a whole page with all the clauses and phrases and diagonal lines. But tucked in the profound, weighty statements of the new Kingdom, Peter chooses words that will comfort and encourage those early Christians (and us too).
Even as we begin the chapter, Peter notes we are living as aliens, but this isn’t necessarily language of separation from the people and culture around them. No, instead, he adds words that remind us we are, and have always been, part of God’s intention. These Gentiles, too, are “chosen” like God’s chosen people; they too are sprinkled with the blood of Jesus Christ, just like Israel in the Passover. Now the landscape is different, and the new Kingdom is for all. It might feel like this new way of doing things is foreign, but take heart, we’re all living in this new Kingdom.
And it is a Kingdom characterized by God’s mercy and love directed toward us. The same mercy that causes us to be born again—at His doing! He reserves an inheritance for us, uses His power to protect us. These are words of intention and action, and Peter is reminding us that this Kingdom reflects God’s meaningful favor toward us. The trials are just the unwrapping, but the how is established. It’s through His love, at His mercy, by His hand.
He reminds us too of what we’re unwrapping in our inheritance: it’s change that doesn’t fade, doesn’t spoil, doesn’t go out of fashion. It’s the permanent restructuring of the world. And in this hope, Peter offers, we rejoice. Because when the grave clothes fall away, what is revealed and restored includes us, bringing inexpressible joy, full of glory, resulting in praise. These are words of life, of salvation.
So, early Christians, you’re right where you should be, your faith deepening in the uncovering of the new Kingdom. It might feel foreign, it might seem distressful, it might present challenges. Early Christians, you love Him, and you believe. And the return is richer, enduring, precious life ahead.
Us too, in our hump days and trials, in the systems that still insist on the old kingdoms and the old ways, we rejoice. Because these grave clothes have to go! (Even if they are weird and smelly and difficult to remove.) We rejoice at the hope of what we are now living in through the resurrection of Jesus Christ—the expression of God’s love and intention.
Seen and heard, deed and word
Belief is our inheritance.
Remembered, expected, delivered, protected.
Redemption is our heritage.
A Prayer for Each Moment
God Who Gives,
You breathed out, again and again, giving us life in creation, rescue in desperation, and comfort in companionship. Let us be believing, with more joy than we can express, that we might see creation made peacefully whole and that our faith might yield praise, honor, and glory to You.
Amen.
A Prayer for Each Other
Our Father,
You have a track record of rescue and redemption. As You always have and do, help those who are distressed, those who are facing struggles and doubts, those who feel they’re at a dead end with no escape, filling them with living hope and overflowing joy. Give us words of gratitude, that we too can marvel, “Who is like You, majestic in holiness, awesome in praises, working wonders?”
Amen
Blessing
This week, may we approach our distresses, doubts, and struggles with hope, our faith encouraged by the Holy Spirit in the life of the resurrection.