There is a passage in 1 Peter 5 that does something unusual. Rather than addressing the broader congregation, it zeroes in on the leaders of the church, the elders, and gives them a direct and unflinching charge. But here is what makes it remarkable: the instructions given to those leaders ultimately benefit everyone. The shepherd and the sheep are inseparable. You cannot talk about one without implicating the other.

Peter opens the passage by identifying himself not as an apostle standing above the crowd, but as a fellow elder. He is not writing from a throne. He is writing from the trenches. He has witnessed Christ's suffering firsthand. He has lived a life marked by both failure and restoration. He knows what it costs to lead, and he knows what it costs to follow. And from that place of hard-won experience, he writes to encourage those who bear the weight of spiritual leadership.

His message provides three essential qualities that should define how elders lead: willingly, eagerly, and by example.

Serving Willingly
Peter instructs elders to shepherd the flock of God not under compulsion, but willingly. The distinction matters more than it might first appear. Service rendered out of obligation tends to be joyless, mechanical, and ultimately hollow. It gets the job done, but it communicates nothing of the love that should animate it.

The image of the shepherd is not accidental here. Jesus himself used it when he restored Peter after the resurrection. Three times he asked, "Do you love me?" and three times the command that followed was to feed and tend the sheep. The connection is direct and intentional: love for Christ expresses itself in love for the people Christ has entrusted to our care. The degree to which a leader loves Jesus is the degree to which that leader will genuinely care for those he serves.

Willingness does not mean every morning feels like a triumph. It does not mean the work is always easy or that the calling never feels heavy. It means that beneath the difficulty, there is a recognition of privilege. To speak truth into someone's grief, to stand beside someone in illness, to welcome a new believer into the family of God, to offer counsel in a moment of uncertainty -- these are not burdens to be endured. They are honors to be received. When the work stops feeling like a privilege, that is a signal worth taking seriously.

Serving Eagerly
The second quality Peter calls for is eagerness, and he frames it against a stark contrast. The elder is not to serve for shameful gain. False teachers throughout the New Testament were frequently motivated by financial benefit or personal popularity. The ministry became a vehicle for self-advancement rather than a way to point people to Christ.

Jesus does not need celebrities. He wants servants.

Eagerness, as Peter uses it, speaks to motivation. Where willingness reflects humility and surrender, eagerness reflects energy and enthusiasm. It is the quality that keeps a leader leaning forward rather than coasting. It is the recognition that God is still unfolding his purpose and that there is something genuinely worth showing up for.

When willingness and eagerness are held together, they paint a full picture of the attitude that should characterize spiritual leadership. Gratitude for the calling, humility in the execution, and genuine excitement about what God is doing. None of that can be manufactured through sheer personal effort. It flows from a life that is drawing from Christ rather than from its own reserves.

Leading by Example
The third quality Peter names is perhaps the most convicting. He tells the elders not to domineer over those in their charge, but to set an example for the flock. In Matthew 20, Jesus made the same point with striking clarity, noting that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over those beneath them, and then saying plainly that it shall not be so among his followers. Whoever would be great must become a servant.

Leadership in the kingdom of God is not about accumulating power. It is not about control. It is not about positioning oneself above the requirements that apply to everyone else. Dominance has no place in the elder's calling. What does have a place is a life that is worth following, not because it is perfect, but because it is genuinely oriented toward Christ.

Words without evidence are empty. An elder cannot lead people where he is unwilling to go himself. The servant's heart and the domineering spirit cannot coexist. One will always crowd out the other.

The Promise That Holds It Together
Peter does not leave the elders without hope. He closes this section with a promise: when the chief shepherd appears, faithful leaders will receive an unfading crown of glory. The language is deliberate. Earthly crowns fade. Earthly power corrodes. Earthly recognition evaporates. But what Christ gives cannot be lost.

This promise is not meant to create a hierarchy of rewards or to suggest that elders occupy a higher tier of heaven than everyone else. It is meant to anchor the entire calling in something that outlasts the difficulty. Whatever suffering comes, whatever the cost of faithful service, it will not compare to the glory that is to be revealed.

Jesus is the chief shepherd. Every elder, every leader, every person who takes on the responsibility of caring for others in Christ's name is an under-shepherd, pointing people not to themselves but to Christ. The church exists for the glory of his name. And when he returns, the investment of faithful, willing, eager, exemplary service will have been worth every difficult morning, every hard conversation, every moment of doubt overcome.

The shepherd and the sheep are in it together. That is the point. And when both take their calling seriously, the church becomes what it was always meant to be: a community that shows a lost world what Jesus looks like.

This article was adapted from the sermon, "Of Shepherds & Sheep," by Pastor Scott Perry, preached at Temple Baptist Church on September 20, 2026.

Suffering is one of the most universal human experiences. No one escapes it. Whether it arrives as physical pain, personal loss, social rejection, or the quiet ache of living in a world that seems to be falling apart at the seams, suffering eventually finds every one of us. And when it does, the questions that rise up from the depths of our hearts are often the same: Why is this happening? Where is God? Does any of this mean anything?

Peter wrote the first letter to believers suffering because of their faith in Jesus Christ. Their families and communities ridiculed, marginalized, and oppressed them. Their world was hostile to what they believed, and that hostility had a cost. Yet the message Peter delivers to them is not one of sympathy alone. It is a message of profound theological clarity that reframes suffering entirely, and it is just as relevant today as it was when it was first written.

Do Not Be Surprised
One of the most striking things Peter says is found in 1 Peter 4:12, where he urges believers not to be shocked or caught off guard by the fiery trials they are experiencing. He frames suffering not as an anomaly but as something to be expected. The language of a fiery trial comes from the image of a refiner's fire, the process by which intense heat purifies metal, burning away impurities and strengthening what remains.

This is not accidental language. Peter is telling us something important about the nature of suffering: it is purposeful. It is not random chaos. It is not evidence that God has looked away. It is, in fact, evidence that God is at work. The trials we endure serve to purify our faith, deepen our dependence on God, and prove the genuineness of what we believe.

This advance warning matters more than it might seem. When suffering arrives without context, it can feel like abandonment. It can tempt us to believe that faith is pointless, that God is absent, or that something has gone terribly wrong. But when we understand that suffering is part of the landscape of following Jesus, it does not destroy our faith. It actually confirms it.

The Privilege of Suffering
Perhaps the most counterintuitive idea in this passage is that suffering for Christ's sake is a privilege. In 1 Peter 4:13, believers are urged to rejoice when they share in the sufferings of Christ. This is not a call to enjoy pain or to pretend that hardship does not hurt. It calls us to recognize that identifying with Jesus, even in difficulty, is worth celebrating.

The apostle Paul echoes this in Romans 5:3-5, where he describes suffering as the starting point of a chain reaction that produces endurance, then character, then hope, and ultimately the experience of God's love poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit. James opens his letter with a similar declaration in James 1:2-4, calling believers to count it pure joy when they face trials of various kinds, because the testing of faith produces steadfastness that leads to maturity and completeness.

These are not the words of people who have never suffered. These are the words of people who have suffered deeply and discovered something on the other side of it that they could not have found any other way.

Peter also points to a future dimension of this joy. The rejoicing we experience now, in the midst of trial, will give way to an even greater joy when the glory of Christ is fully revealed at his return. The suffering of this present age is real, but it is also temporary. The glory that follows is eternal.

Suffering That Does Not Glorify God
Peter makes an important distinction. Not all suffering brings honor to God. He lists specific behaviors in 1 Peter 4:15 that lead to a very different kind of suffering: wrongdoing, dishonesty, harmful behavior toward others, and the tendency to meddle in matters that are not our concern. Suffering that comes as a consequence of our own poor choices is not the same as suffering for righteousness. When we bring hardship on ourselves through disobedience or harmful behavior, we cannot credit that to our faith.

The distinction matters because it calls us to honest self-examination. Are we suffering because we are standing for something true and good? Or are we suffering because of choices we have made that have natural consequences? Peter calls us to make sure that when we suffer, it is for the right reasons.

Entrusting Ourselves to a Faithful Creator
The passage concludes in 1 Peter 4:19 with one of the most powerful statements in the entire letter. Those who suffer according to God's will are called to entrust their souls to a faithful Creator while continuing to do good. Everything in those words deserves careful attention.

To entrust your soul to God is an act of radical confidence. It is the declaration that God is not only aware of what you are going through but that he is trustworthy in the middle of it. He made you. He knows you. He has not lost track of you. And because he is faithful, you can place yourself entirely in his hands without fear.

And then comes the final instruction, simple and undramatic: keep doing good. Do not check out. Do not quit. Do not allow suffering to become an excuse for withdrawal or bitterness. Keep doing good.

A Different Way to See
What Peter offers in this passage is not a formula for avoiding suffering. It is a framework for understanding it. Suffering is real. It is hard. It is sometimes relentless. But for the believer, it is never meaningless. It is the refiner's fire doing its work. It is the testing ground of genuine faith. It is the place where God's presence becomes most tangible and his faithfulness most evident.

The invitation is not to pretend that suffering does not hurt. The invitation is to see it clearly, to trust the One who holds you in the middle of it, and to keep moving forward in faithfulness.

This article was adapted from the sermon, "Making Sense of Suffering," by Pastor Scott Perry, preached at Temple Baptist Church on September 13, 2026.

There is a sign that has become something of a cultural punchline. You have seen it in cartoons, on street corners, and in the background of photographs taken at crowded public events. A disheveled figure holds a hand-lettered placard bearing four words: THE END IS NEAR. We laugh because the image has become so familiar, so associated with fringe thinking and failed predictions, that it no longer carries any real weight. We have been conditioned to dismiss it.

But what if the dismissal is the problem?

What if the announcement itself is true, and the only thing that has gone wrong is what people have done with it?

In 1 Peter 4:7-11, the apostle Peter opens with a declaration that would have stopped his original readers cold. He tells them plainly that the end of all things is at hand. He is not setting a date. He is not building a predictive chart. He is making a theological statement rooted in what Jesus Christ accomplished through his death and resurrection. The empty tomb did not simply mark the end of a story. It inaugurated the final age of history, the last chapter before the consummation of everything God promised. And because that is true, Peter says, here is how you should live.

It is not a call to withdraw from ordinary life, sell your possessions, and wait in a field. It is, in fact, a call to the most grounded and relational kind of living imaginable. Three things emerge from this passage, and each one is more practical than the last.

Be Grounded in Prayer
Peter's first instruction in light of the approaching end is to be self-controlled and sober-minded, and he anchors that instruction to a specific purpose: prayer. The nearness of the end is not a reason to become frantic or irrational. It is a reason to become steadier, clearer-headed, and more deeply connected to God through ongoing conversation with him.

Prayer is not meant to be a formal recitation or a scheduled obligation. It is the language of a living relationship. When Peter calls believers to pray in light of the end, he is calling them to deepen their intimacy with the God who holds that end in his hands. The self-control and sober-mindedness he describes are not cold disciplines. They are the qualities of someone who is paying attention, someone who knows that the time remaining is meaningful and should not be wasted on distraction or panic.

In a moment when one might expect a call to extraordinary action, Peter calls for extraordinary attentiveness to the ordinary practice of prayer. The closer we draw to God through honest, open communication, the more clearly we see what matters and what does not.

Grow in Love
The second instruction is the one Peter marks as most important. Above all, he says, keep loving one another earnestly, because love covers a multitude of sins. The word "keep" carries weight here. This is not a love that is expressed once and then assumed. It is a love that must be practiced, sustained, and allowed to grow. It is ongoing by nature.

Jesus himself warned in Matthew 24:12 that as lawlessness increases in the last days, the love of many will grow cold. The warning implies that love requires active tending. A heart that does not practice love will lose it. Peter's call to earnest, persistent love is therefore both a command and a protection. A church that keeps loving one another remains warm when everything around it is growing cold.

What does this love look like in practice? It looks like showing up. It looks like sharing burdens and carrying concerns for one another into prayer. It looks like small, consistent acts of presence that communicate to another person that they are not alone. The local church is the primary place where this kind of love is meant to develop and be expressed. Large gatherings can inspire and instruct, but love is practiced, tested, and deepened in smaller, closer communities.

Peter makes this theme concrete when he calls believers to show hospitality to one another without grumbling. Hospitality in the first century was essential to spreading the gospel. Traveling teachers and missionaries depended on local believers' generosity for food and shelter. But the principle reaches beyond the first century. Genuine hospitality is the willingness to share what God has given you with someone in need. The key word is "without grumbling," because hospitality given reluctantly is duty, not love. Christ is the model, who gave his life not because he was required to, but because he chose to.

Serve for His Glory
The third instruction shifts the focus to spiritual gifts. Peter makes clear that every believer has received a gift from God, and that gift is not a personal achievement or a point of pride. It is a manifestation of God's grace, given to serve others.

He divides these gifts into two broad categories: speaking and serving. Those who speak must speak the words of God faithfully, holding to the revealed truth of Scripture without veering into personal agendas or comfortable distortions. Those who serve must do so in the strength that God supplies, not in the strength of their own effort and willpower. This distinction matters enormously. A servant who relies on personal reserves will eventually run dry. A servant who draws from God's supply will find that the source does not run out.

The purpose behind all of it, speaking and serving alike, is stated plainly at the close of the passage. Everything is to be done so that God may be glorified through Jesus Christ. This is the measuring rod for every ministry, every decision, every act of love and hospitality and prayer. Not our reputation. Not our comfort. His glory.

The end is near. It has been near since the resurrection. And the question it poses has not changed in two thousand years: knowing that, how will you live?

The answer, it turns out, is simpler than we might expect. Pray deeply. Love persistently. Serve faithfully.

This article was adapted from the sermon, "The End Is Near," by Pastor Scott Perry, preached at Temple Baptist Church on September 6, 2026.

Few phrases have haunted the church for decades like “cheap grace,” a term made famous by German theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer in his landmark work The Cost of Discipleship. And the more honestly we examine it, the more we are forced to ask whether it has taken root in our own lives.

Bonhoeffer defined cheap grace as grace without price, grace without cost. He described it as the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without discipline, communion without confession. Most pointedly, he called it grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, and grace without Jesus Christ living and incarnate.

True grace is free to us because Christ paid its price; but it certainly isn't cheap.  The same Christ who freely saves us also calls us to follow Him, take up our cross, and die to ourselves.

So what does costly grace actually look like when it is lived out?

The Mindset of Christ
The apostle Peter gives us a framework in 1 Peter 4. He opens with a striking instruction: since Christ suffered in the flesh, believers are to arm themselves with the same way of thinking. The logic is direct. Christ did not sidestep suffering on the way to glory. He walked straight through it. And those who follow Him are called to the same orientation.

This is not a call to seek out misery for its own sake. It is a call to stop being surprised when obedience to God costs something. It is a call to stop negotiating with the world for a version of faith that offends no one and demands nothing.

Peter is describing a decisive break with the way of life that once governed us. The person who is willing to suffer rather than return to sin demonstrates that sin no longer rules his life as it once did. This is the nature of transformation.

It is not perfection. It is direction. When a person genuinely encounters Christ, something changes. The values shift. The motivations change. The standard by which decisions are made is no longer rooted in personal appetite or cultural approval, but in God's will.

Identity With The Cross
One of the most important truths of the Christian life is that following Christ means identifying with both His death and His resurrection. It is easy to celebrate the resurrection. It is far more challenging to identify with the cross.

Paul wrote in his letter to the Romans that believers are buried with Christ in baptism, and that just as Christ rose from the dead, so too must we rise to walk in newness of life. The death that precedes that resurrection is not merely symbolic. It is the death of the old self, the old patterns, the old allegiances. It is the mortification of everything that once held us captive to sin. And it is in that death that genuine freedom is found.

The Christian life is therefore not simply about receiving forgiveness while continuing to live as we always have. It is about being united with Christ in His death and resurrection—dying to the old life and learning to walk in the new.

This is precisely what Peter is describing. Suffering, hardship, and the difficulty of living in a broken world are not obstacles to faith. They are often the very circumstances in which faith is tested, strengthened, and displayed. They are experiences through which believers identify more deeply with what Christ accomplished for them.

The World Will Notice
Peter does not pretend that this kind of life will be welcomed by everyone. In fact, he is remarkably direct about the reaction it will provoke. He describes how those outside the faith are first surprised when believers no longer join them in the patterns of a life without God, and then how that surprise turns to criticism and hostility.

The reason is not difficult to understand. A life of genuine devotion to Christ implicitly rebukes those who have chosen a different path. The refusal to participate in what Peter calls the flood of debauchery is not perceived as indifference. It is perceived as judgment. And rather than examining that discomfort honestly, many people will redirect it as anger toward the one whose life prompted it.

This is why Peter reminds believers that judgment belongs to God. He is ready to judge the living and the dead. The believer's responsibility is not to avenge, retaliate, or compromise. The responsibility is obedience. God will handle the rest.

The Promise That Holds It All Together
The reason any of this is sustainable is the promise that anchors it. Peter writes that the gospel was preached to those who are now dead so that though they were judged in the flesh the way all people are, they might live in the spirit the way God does.

This is the hope that makes costly discipleship worth every cost. It is the reason suffering does not have the last word. It is the reason the narrow road, as difficult as it is, leads somewhere worth going.

But there is something even deeper than simply enduring the cost: Christ Himself is worth it.

Paul said that the love of Christ compels us. That is the heart of Christian obedience. We do not follow Jesus merely because He has given us a list of commands. We follow Him because He loved us, gave Himself for us, and has become more valuable to us than the things we once lived for.

Jesus said, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.” Christ's invitation has never been an invitation to preserve our old lives while adding religion to them. It is an invitation to die—and then to live.

Disciples who turn away from cheap grace and embrace the real weight of following Jesus do not ultimately become burdened. They discover the freedom of no longer being enslaved to the things that once ruled them. And in that freedom, they become exactly what the world desperately needs to see.

Come and die. It is the only invitation that leads to life.

When we hear the word purity, our minds often go immediately to sexual morality. While that is certainly a part of biblical purity, it is not the whole story.

Purity, biblically, is moral cleanness and freedom from defilement or corruption. It describes a heart, mind, and life that are not being governed by what is sinful or corrupt, but are increasingly characterized by what is true, righteous, and pleasing to God. For the Christian, purity is not what makes us acceptable to God. It is one of the ways we live out the new life God has already given us in Christ.

In other words, purity is rooted in obeying God and becoming like Christ. “And everyone who has this hope in him purifies himself, just as he is pure.”—1 John 3:3

Why Does Purity Matter?
We often confuse purity and holiness. They are closely related, but they are not the same thing. Holiness means being set apart by God for His purposes. God is unique and set apart from the sin and darkness of this world, and those who belong to Him are likewise called to be set apart.

This is why Christians are called saints, meaning “holy ones.” It does not mean that we have already achieved moral perfection. It means that God has set us apart in Christ as His people. This is our positional holiness—our standing before God because we belong to Christ.

So when Peter says, “Be holy as he is holy” (1 Peter 1:15), he is not telling Christians to somehow earn a status they do not possess. He is calling us to live out the identity God has already given us in Christ. God has already set us apart as His people; now He calls us to increasingly live like people who belong to Him. This is progressive holiness—our daily lives being increasingly conformed to the holiness God has already given us in Christ. Purity is one expression of that holiness.

Purity is about moral cleanness before God, and that purity is expressed in our daily thoughts, desires, words, and actions. This is where we fight the daily battle with sin and seek to turn away from what defiles us. Because God has already set us apart as His people, we are called to live in a way that reflects that reality.

God's commands are not arbitrary restrictions designed to keep us from enjoying life. They reveal what is good and protect us from what is destructive. Sin is not merely breaking a rule—it is rebellion against God. And because God is the source of what is good, sin inevitably brings corruption and destruction into our lives. It affects our thinking, our relationships, our testimony, and our spiritual growth. When we choose sin, we choose what is contrary to God's character and will, and we hinder the Christlike transformation He is producing in us. God has something better for us than sin.

Purity Begins in the Heart
Purity is more than outward behavior. It begins with what is happening inside of us.

God promised: “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.”—Ezekiel 36:26

Biblical purity is not simply external good behavior. It flows from the internal transformation God produces in us. God changes the heart, and that changed heart begins to affect our desires, our choices, and ultimately our behavior. As God transforms us, our desires increasingly align with His will, and our obedience becomes an expression of love for Him. We do not purify ourselves in order to become God's people; God makes us His people, and He then works in us to produce a life that increasingly reflects Him.

Purity Is Measured by God's Truth
The world constantly changes its definition of what is right and wrong. We cannot look to the world to determine what it means to be pure before God. We need a standard that does not change. That standard is God's Word.

We are called to reject falsehood and embrace the truth God has revealed. But knowing the truth isn't enough. God's truth is meant to be believed and lived. Peter says, “You have purified your souls by your obedience to the truth” (1 Peter 1:22). Peter is not saying that our obedience earns our acceptance before God. He is describing the obedience that flows from the new life God has already given us. Purity therefore involves both what we believe and how we live.

God's truth is meant to be lived. The standard for the Christian life isn't other Christians, our culture, or even our own idea of what is good enough. Jesus is the standard. And His Word reveals what He desires for us.

Purity isn't simply about asking, “What am I allowed to do?” as if knowing how close we can get to sin without technically crossing a line is the goal.

Instead, we should be asking: “Does this reflect the character of Christ and help me grow in Christlikeness?”
What we think about.
What we desire.
What we believe.
What we say.
How we treat others.
How we respond to temptation.

All of these things matter because God is not merely trying to make us look better on the outside. He is transforming us from the inside out.

Purity is not about becoming good enough for Christ. It is about increasingly becoming like Christ because we already belong to Him. We do not pursue purity to earn our place in God's family; we pursue purity because, in Christ, God has already made us His own. God has set us apart in Christ. Now He is teaching us to live like people who belong to Him.

One of the most remarkable things about our sinful nature is its ability to convince us that we are seeing things clearly when we are not. We naturally view the world through the lens of ourselves—what we want, what makes us comfortable, what makes us happy, and what we think will make our lives better.

The problem is that selfishness doesn't always show up in obvious ways. Sometimes it quietly works its way into how we think, even into how we read the Bible.

We can approach Scripture asking, "What does this mean for me? How can this make my life better? What does God want to give me?" Those aren't necessarily bad questions, but perhaps they aren't the first questions we should ask. Instead of "What's in it for me", I should first ask, "What does God want?" 

Think about the Garden of Eden.

When we picture paradise, we tend to picture a place where everything is about our comfort: no pain, no sickness, no sorrow, no stress, no problems, and plenty of time to simply enjoy ourselves. And Eden really was paradise. God created it, provided everything Adam needed, and called His creation "very good" (Genesis 1:31).

But Adam wasn't created to sit around doing nothing. God gave him a purpose. Genesis 2:15 tells us that God placed Adam in the garden "to work it and keep it." He was given responsibility over God's creation. He had a relationship with God, a calling, and a command to obey. There was even a boundary he was not to cross (Genesis 2:16–17).

There was work in paradise. There were responsibilities in paradise. There were rules in paradise.

And it was still paradise.

Maybe that should change the way we think about life. We tend to measure goodness by how much pleasure something gives us and how little discomfort it causes. But God didn't create us merely to be comfortable. He created us to know Him, serve Him, obey Him, and glorify Him.

We can become consumed with what the church does for us—the music we like, the preaching we prefer, the programs we want, the schedule that's convenient for our family, the people who make us comfortable. None of those things are inherently wrong. But when church becomes primarily about what I receive, I can easily become a spectator rather than a servant.

God didn't save us simply to fill a seat. He has given each of us opportunities, abilities, and responsibilities to serve Him and serve His people. Scripture describes the church as the body of Christ, with each member having a role to fulfill (1 Corinthians 12:12–27). Peter tells believers to use whatever gifts they have received to serve one another (1 Peter 4:10).

Sometimes that service is enjoyable. Sometimes it is inconvenient. Sometimes nobody notices.

But the question isn't always, "Do I enjoy this?"

The better question is, "Does this please God?"

That question matters far beyond church. It affects how we respond when God's Word confronts us. It affects how we handle our money, relationships, time, priorities, and desires. It even affects how we interpret Scripture.

If we emphasize what we like and minimize what makes us uncomfortable, we bend Scripture toward our preferences rather than allowing Scripture to reshape us. We may not reject what the Bible says, but sometimes we simply try to make it say what we want it to say.

That is essentially the problem we see in Eden. Adam and Eve weren't living in a miserable world from which they needed to escape. They had everything they needed. But they chose what they wanted over what God had said (Genesis 3:1–6). Humanity has been repeating that pattern ever since.

So perhaps we should occasionally stop and ask ourselves a difficult question:
Am I trying to please God, or am I trying to get God to please me?

The answer may reveal more about our hearts than we want to admit.

The Christian life isn't ultimately about building a life that pleases me. It is about living a life that pleases God. Paul reminds us, "Whatever you do, do everything for the glory of God" (1 Corinthians 10:31).

And the remarkable thing is that when we stop making ourselves the center, we don't lose our joy. We find it in the place God intended all along—not in getting everything we want, but in knowing Him, serving Him, and living for His glory.

The next time we open our Bibles, we should resist the temptation to begin with, "What do I want this to say?"

Instead, let's begin with a better question:
"God, what have You said—and am I willing to obey it?"

Perhaps that's the question we should be asking more often.

There is a passage in 1 Peter that has puzzled scholars and sparked centuries of theological debate. In 1 Peter 3:18–22, Peter speaks of Christ proclaiming to “spirits in prison,” connects the passage to Noah and the flood, and then turns to baptism and Christ’s exaltation.

It is a difficult passage. But Peter’s purpose is not ultimately to leave us wrestling with a theological puzzle. He wants suffering Christians to know this: Christ suffered, Christ conquered, and Christ reigns. And if we belong to Christ, our suffering is not the end of our story either.

Christ Suffered
Peter begins with one of the clearest statements of the gospel in the New Testament:
“For Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring us to God.” — 1 Peter 3:18

Notice the purpose: “that he might bring us to God.” Jesus did not merely die to make forgiveness possible. He died to reconcile sinners to God.

And Peter emphasizes that Christ suffered “once.” His sacrifice was complete. Nothing needs to be added to the cross. No amount of good works, religious effort, or moral improvement can supplement what Christ has already accomplished.

The righteous died for the unrighteous. Jesus took the place of sinners so that sinners could be brought into the presence of God. That is where Peter wants suffering believers to begin. Before he tells us anything about the strange events that follow, he reminds us of the cross.

Our suffering does not mean God has abandoned us. Christ himself suffered. And his suffering accomplished our salvation.

Christ Conquered
Then Peter takes us into the difficult language of verses 19–21. Christ proclaimed to “spirits in prison,” followed by a reference to Noah, the flood, and baptism. While Christians have debated the precise details of this passage, Peter's larger point is remarkably clear: Christ's suffering was not defeat. It was victory.

The powers of darkness did not have the final word at the cross. Jesus died, but he was made alive. He rose from the grave. He ascended to heaven. And the very event that appeared to be Satan's greatest victory became the means by which God accomplished redemption.

Peter then points his readers to Noah. Noah lived faithfully in a world that had rejected God. He was surrounded by wickedness and vastly outnumbered. Yet he trusted God, obeyed God, and was carried safely through the judgment.

Peter is writing to Christians who may have felt much the same way. You may be outnumbered, but you are not abandoned. Faithfulness may be costly, but it is never wasted. The world may look as though evil is winning, but the resurrection has already settled the outcome.

Baptism Declares Whose We Are
Peter then connects the flood to baptism. Baptism does not save us by physically washing away dirt. Rather, it points to the spiritual reality accomplished through Christ's resurrection. It is the public declaration that we belong to Jesus.

In baptism, the believer identifies with Christ—his death, burial, and resurrection—and publicly declares allegiance to him. The waters of the flood remind us that God judges sin, but they also remind us that God preserves those who trust him.

Baptism tells the world: I belong to Christ. My old life has been buried. My new life is found in him. And my hope is not in myself but in the risen Christ.

Christ Reigns
Peter ends the passage by lifting our eyes from the suffering of believers to the throne of Christ: “Who has gone into heaven and is at the right hand of God, with angels, authorities, and powers having been subjected to him.” — 1 Peter 3:22

This is where the entire passage lands. Jesus reigns. The one who suffered is now enthroned. The one who was crucified is now exalted. The one who was rejected by the world has been given authority over every spiritual power.

That changes how we face suffering. The darkness may be real. The opposition may be real. The pain may be real. But none of it is outside the authority of Christ. We do not endure suffering wondering how the story will end. We endure knowing how the story ends. Christ has conquered. Christ reigns. And everyone who belongs to him will share in his victory.

So when faithfulness becomes costly, remember the pattern Peter gives us:
Christ suffered.
Christ conquered.
Christ reigns.

And because we are united with Christ, suffering is not the end of our story.

Victory is.

Over the last two Sundays, we have been walking through 1 Peter 3:9–14 and thinking about how to respond to suffering, mistreatment, and opposition as followers of Christ.

There is one thought from those passages that I kept coming back to after the message. It has to do with one little word: Blessed.

Peter says in 1 Peter 3:9:
“Do not repay evil for evil or reviling for reviling, but on the contrary, bless, for to this you were called, that you may obtain a blessing.”

Then, just a few verses later, he says:
“But even if you should suffer for righteousness’ sake, you will be blessed.”
— 1 Peter 3:14

In English, we use the same word—‘bless’ or ‘blessed’—but Peter is actually using different Greek words that help us see something we can easily miss in translation.

We Are Called to Bless - (eulogeō)
The word Peter uses in 1 Peter 3:9 for “bless” is the Greek verb eulogeō (εὐλογέω). It describes an action. Peter isn't merely telling us to have a positive attitude toward people who mistreat us. He is commanding us to actively bless them. Peter has just told his readers not to repay evil with evil or insult with insult. Instead, when someone speaks against you, mistreats you, or does you wrong, the Christian response is to bless.

Peter says: “For to this you were called.” In other words, this isn't an optional extra for particularly gracious Christians. This is part of what we have been called to be. And that raises an interesting question: Why should we bless people who don't deserve it?

God Is Worthy of Blessing - (eulogētos)
The answer becomes even more interesting when we look at the related Greek word eulogētos (εὐλογητός), which is an adjective translated as “blessed” and used in the New Testament in expressions of praise to God. For example, Peter begins this letter by saying: “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ!” — 1 Peter 1:3

God is eulogētos. He is worthy of blessing, praise, honor, and worship. We don't bless God because He needs something from us. We bless Him because He is holy and worthy and good. He is deserving of all praise. And here is where the command of 1 Peter 3:9 becomes so interesting. The same Greek word family used to praise the God who is perfectly worthy of praise is the verb Peter uses when commanding us to bless people who may be completely unworthy of it.

The person who insults you may not be worthy of your praise. The person who treats you unfairly may not deserve your kindness. The person who persecutes you may certainly not deserve to be rewarded for their behavior. And yet Peter says: Bless.

We Are Blessed - (μακάριος)
Now look at 1 Peter 3:14: “But even if you should suffer for righteousness’ sake, you will be blessed.” Here Peter uses a different Greek word: makarios (μακάριος). This is the word we see throughout the New Testament when describing someone as blessed—a person who is in a blessed or favored condition before God.

Jesus uses this word repeatedly in the Beatitudes:
“Blessed are the poor in spirit…”
“Blessed are those who mourn…”
“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake…”

The point isn't necessarily that their circumstances are pleasant. They are poor, grieving, persecuted, and suffering. And yet Jesus calls them blessed.

That is exactly what Peter is saying.
You may suffer for doing what is right.
You may be mistreated because you follow Christ.
You may bless someone who doesn't deserve your blessing.
And yet you are blessed.

Your circumstances don't determine whether you are blessed. God does.

Blessed to Be a Blessing
Here is the pattern: God blesses His people, and His people become a blessing to others.

We don't bless people because they have earned it.
We bless because we have received something we never could have earned.
We have experienced God's grace.
We have received forgiveness we didn't deserve.
We have been shown mercy.
We have been blessed by a God who is completely worthy of our praise.
And now He calls us to extend that grace—even toward people who don't deserve it.

Peter doesn't tell us to pretend that evil isn't evil. He doesn't tell us that injustice doesn't matter. He doesn't tell us that suffering isn't painful. He tells us something much harder: Don't become like the person who hurt you. Don't repay evil with evil. Don't answer insult with insult. Instead, bless.

Even if doing what is right costs you something—even if you suffer for righteousness' sake—Peter says: You are blessed. "For it is better to suffer for doing good, if that should be God’s will, than for doing evil" - 1 Peter 3:17

The question we need to ask ourselves daily is this: “How can I reflect the blessing and grace that God has already shown me?” Because the Christian life is not simply about being blessed. It is also about becoming a blessing to others.

We bless because we have been blessed.