Original Meaning
First Exhortation: Hope (1:13)
PETER’S EXHORTATION TO hope has three parts: two metaphorical images, preparing the reader for the main verb, “set your hope.”1 His first image is captivating: “Prepare your minds for action” translates an ancient image that literally reads, “gird up the loins of your mind.”2 This image is drawn from the ancient (and still modern for some in the Middle East) form of dress in which a man’s long outer “shirt” draped down to his ankles, obviously preventing agile and quick motions and strenuous work. As a result, when such actions were needed, a man tucked his shirt into his belt and thus “girded himself for action” (cf. 1 Kings 18:46; Jer. 1:17; Luke 17:8; John 21:18; Acts 12:8). Peter applies the metaphor to mental behavior with the added word “of your minds” (see Luke 12:35).3 Thus, the NIV rendering captures the image with “prepare your minds for action.” C. E. B. Cranfield suggested that we translate it as “rolling up the shirt-sleeves of your mind,” or “taking off the coat of your mind.”4 Given our fitness craze, we might translate it today, “Take off your mental warm-up so your mind can move freely.” In light of Peter’s emphasis on hope in 1:3–12 and the subordinate nature of this image to the verb “set your hope,” this mental activity involves perceiving this world as transitory and orienting itself around the future hope that God will bring about at the day of Jesus Christ (see 1:13b).5 Peter wants his churches to maintain a loose grip on this world and a tight grip on the world to come.
The second image is “be totally self-controlled.”6 This image is drawn from the all-too-realistic world of drunkenness; drunks have no control over themselves or their body. Peter’s expression is metaphorical7 in that believers are to be totally in tune with God’s plan in history, so much so that they set their hope on the future and live in light of that day. People who look into the future and want to live completely in light of God’s will do not want their eyes blurred by sin or other distractions (cf. 4:7; 5:8; 1 Thess. 5:6, 8; 2 Tim. 4:5).
Christians must be ready to do mental work and be totally focused on God’s plan; that is, they must “set [their] hope [fully]8 on the grace to be given you when Jesus Christ is revealed.” Living for the future is fundamental for Peter, and a brief sketch of his theology here provides the most important context. Even if believers have begun to share in the salvation of God (1:9), that salvation is presented as only complete in the future (1:5). There will be a penetrating evaluation by God (1:7, 9, 17; 2:12, 23; 3:12; 4:5–6, 17–19) when Jesus is fully revealed (1:7, 13; 4:13). After the judgment, the faithful followers of Jesus will share his glory (5:1, 4) and receive the full compensation of grace (1:17; 4:13, 14). Peter urges his readers to see history the way God has planned it. Though now they may suffer unjustly at the hands of evil people, someday Christ will return and justice will be fully established. As a result, Christians are to live in light of that day of manifested grace. If they think fellowship in the family of God and tasting of Jesus are good now (2:3), they need to think even more about the future when better things await them. What they can only praise God for now they will then know personally in all its glory (cf. 1:3–12).
Bridging Contexts
GENERAL ETHICAL DIRECTIVES like those in our passage are easy to apply, but certain cultural conditions can make specific applications more difficult. For example, someone who grew up under an abusive father may find it exceedingly difficult to want to live in the “fear of the Father,” just as someone who grew up hearing nothing but the threat of God’s judgment may experience an understandable discomfort reading our passage. Thus, we must be aware of the context of our audience and how they will hear such directives. We may need to supplement or explain a given directive for it to gain the kind of force needed.
What is fundamental for applying general ethical directives, however, is to reflect on the foundation of ethics. I find television talk shows fascinating, if not a bit comical at times (not that I spend much time watching them). It is rare that one of these talk shows does not venture at some point into an ethical issue, whether it is homosexuality, abusive husbands, tattoos, losing weight, or confronting one’s boss. What I find amazing is how easily these talk show hosts and their guests slide from a moral dilemma into a moral stance without any reflection on how they got there or how they can make such a decision. A standard line of reflection contends, “If it doesn’t hurt anyone, then … ,” while another one suggests that ethics are based on “doing good in society.” Appeals to authority, even the American Constitution, generate scorn while an appeal to special revelation (the Bible, the Koran) only begets the suggestion of fundamentalism. At their most religious moments, these hosts will strain their necks out far enough to suggest that “some old-fashioned American ideals” are just what we need in our society today. Whatever the discussion, television talk-show hosts struggle with ethical dilemmas, and their audiences are yearning for answers to some of life’s most difficult problems. But where will these hosts and viewers get answers that satisfy both their sense of what is right and wrong and provide a foundation on which others can build?
Deep in the heart of television, ethical reflection is belief in the essential goodness of humans, or at least a hope that such is the case. If we dig down deeply enough or try harder or discipline our lives, so it is argued, we will find we are capable of making our world better. Then, like an explosion of a bomb in a small room, the host is interrupted with the news of ten-year-olds being shot execution-style by fellow gang members who were not much older. Belief in some kind of goodness quickly falls on deaf ears. Any theory of ethics that assumes humans are somehow inherently good and, if they are simply educated, will begin to behave in morally decent ways is about as believable as the Easter bunny—a great story but it belongs to a previous stage of development. Where then do talk hosts—and they are but representatives of their viewers—get their morals? The answer is that they base their ethics on consensus and on what makes sense to most rational people. But to suggest there are moral absolutes that apply to all people is beyond their capacities to announce.
Let’s take “consensus” as a strategy for determining ethics. We must simply ask, “Whose consensus?” Do we take into consideration moral experts, ministers, average people, special interest groups—just whom do we ask? Are we not building a castle in the sky to think there is some consensus? And what about “rational people”? “Rational people” disagree among themselves. They cannot find any kind of unity over abortion, intervention in foreign countries, health care, welfare, or anything that has been politicized. We all agree that murder is wrong, but we refuse to prohibit the sale and use of hand guns “in the name of personal freedom.” We all agree that cigarette smoking is injurious to health, both for the smoker and the one who must breathe the smoke indirectly, but we cannot come to terms morally with prohibiting the act because it breaks down a person’s freedom. I have no faith in “rational people” being able to determine a code of ethics that is both respective of personal freedom and morally sensible.
Tragically, those who may be influencing our culture the most at the moral level are people who refuse to be engaged in a reflective discussion about how to make ethical decisions, for such reflection would expose the superficiality of their ethical decisions. It would also unmask the fear that each hides, namely, that there is no way to make ethical decisions binding for all apart from a belief in a final revelation or in a unique God. If human consensus breaks down and if human rationality will not get us there, then we will either be awash in a sea of relativity (fortunately for us, there is a cooperative sense of some things being good) or be blown by the same winds into the hands of a revealing God.
That’s exactly where Peter is—in the hands of a revealing God, whose character and words chart the course of ethics and morality.24 Ethics in a Christian context begins, oddly enough, with a belief in the depravity of humans, not their goodness. Thus, Peter says, his readers have been redeemed from a slavery to their former, empty traditions (1:18), they have been given a new life and a living hope (1:3–5), and they have been purified (1:22)—the latter two assume the opposite as a condition from which they needed deliverance: hopelessness and moral filthiness. Human beings are in need of repair, restoration, and reformation.
Peter goes on to argue that his readers have been given a new life by God, and this conviction provides the ground of morality for Christianity. Until we have been given God’s life and have partaken of God’s character (cf. 2 Peter 1:4), we have no chance of performing God’s will as he wants us to. Conversion and participation in God’s nature through conversion are the only true and enduring foundations for Christian ethics. John Murray, a brilliant theologian-ethicist, once concluded: “Remove from Scripture the transcendent holiness, righteousness, and truth of God and its ethic disintegrates.”25
As we try to move the ethics of Peter into our world, then, we must carry with us the foundations he builds upon: the nature of God, the sinfulness of humans, the need of divine revelation, and the need of salvation.26 If we urge Peter’s ethics while neglecting his foundation, we are building an edifice that will collapse. Salvation, Peter argues, is necessary in order for God’s people to live like God’s people in our world: “The redemptive process … is the only answer to the impossibility inherent in our depravity.”27 Or, as C. S. Lewis asks in his inimitable style, “What is the good of telling the ships how to steer so as to avoid collisions if, in fact, they are such crazy old tubs that they cannot be steered at all?” He continues, “You cannot make men good by law: and without good men you cannot have a good society. That is why we must go on to think of the second thing: of morality inside the individual.”28
Accordingly, the area where this passage from 1 Peter speaks most clearly to our world is in the area of ethical systems and how to make ethical decisions. Peter’s approach is theological, and the Christian who follows him will establish his or her ethical decisions on the basis of God’s nature and God’s Word.
Contemporary Significance
OUR DISCUSSION ABOVE began to show the significance of Peter’s theoretical framework for our world today. I want to continue that discussion here and then move to a related topic, the importance of living for the future and in light of that future. Living in light of God’s judgment is part of the theme of anchoring ethics in God’s nature and revealed Word because it involves a decision to live in light of God’s holy character, which forms the foundation of his final judgment.
As much as anyone in the history of American Christendom, Thomas Jefferson (who was himself merely a brilliant spokesman for a larger worldwide trend) reduced Christianity to morals, and he founded those morals on an appreciation of classical writers, the innate goodness of humans, the Creator’s implanting in humans an instinct for what is right, and the Enlightenment understanding of reason.29 Hence, Jeffersonian morals are really a reflection of a European trend toward rational ethics. His rational, or better yet instinctive, morality became the essence of liberal Protestantism that has gripped North America for the better part of this century. The following equation expresses the mood of many Western societies: A Christian is someone who is good and loving; a loving and good person is a Christian. While biblical Christianity affirms the first, it does not necessarily affirm the second. The problem with rational morality as the definition of Christianity is that the two are not distinguished.
Our concern here, however, is not with the history of American ethics or Jeffersonian ideals. Rather, our concern is with the foundation of ethics. Where do we begin when we want to state a moral good?30 To simplify greatly, ethics are either founded in ourselves (e.g., through reason, intuition, nature, moral instinct, conscience) or outside ourselves (e.g., through revelation, an established code of ethics, the Constitution). Christian orthodoxy teaches that ethics flows from salvation and that humans, by themselves, cannot discern the will of God—for personal salvation, for personal ethics, or for the social order. We know God’s will because in his grace he has made his will known to us through his revelation, the Bible being the primary mode of this revelation. The same construction applies to our knowledge of ethics: We know what is good from what is bad because God has told us in his Word, beginning with the Mosaic legislation and climaxing in the teachings of Jesus and the apostolic testimony.
Recently I zipped home from teaching to grab a round of golf in what I thought would be one of the last nice days of the year. Rarely do golf courses let someone play alone, so I assumed I would be paired with other golfers whom I did not know. The course was empty for three holes, and I caught up to two distinguished African-American gentlemen, whom I joined for the rest of the round. We made enough light talk for me to discover that one of them was a social worker and the other a pastor. After a few holes I raised the issue of the problems of inner-city violence, hoping to generate an ethical conversation: “What do you think is the solution to the problems in the inner city?” Tony, the first one to speak, said, “God’s Word! In one of the last Scriptures of the Old Testament [Mal. 4:6], it says that in the last days God will return the hearts of the fathers to their children. Unless hearts are made right,” he went on to say, “there is no hope for the inner city.” Then he made a stunning observation about our official “American policy”: “All the money and programs in the world will not change people’s hearts.”
I agreed wholeheartedly with their solution: salvation. I also agreed that commitment to salvation as central to ethical problems does not alleviate us from seeking to help people in their socially deprived conditions. Will, the other man, said quite tersely: “Don’t get me wrong. Those babies didn’t choose to come into this world, and we can’t choose to neglect them. We need welfare for those kids.” In my judgment, these two men crystallize the testimony of God’s people in the history of the church. Ethics begin with salvation, but we dare not neglect our social duties.
But what if others in society do not believe in salvation in Christ? Can we expect to stop society until it becomes Christian before we can go on profitably with ethical issues? Obviously not. But Peter knows of no foundation for proper conduct before God that does not begin with salvation and the life that comes in Christ. Precisely at this point too many Christians have compromised themselves. Ours is a pluralistic world, and this means that public discourse has to be tolerant of opposing viewpoints and alternative foundations for ethical discussions. But Christians must never pretend that the ethics of Christianity can be discovered by pure reason (as was attempted in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries) or by legislation. The proper motive for morals comes only from God’s work of grace, and a life pleasing to God finds its blueprint in the pages of the Bible. While we may have to tolerate alternate viewpoints, we must learn in our toleration not to compromise the foundation on which we stand. In our desire to be influential or to be acceptable, too frequently we have adopted the level of public discourse as the only level for ethical discussions.
Christians desire biblical ethics for society, but our society is frequently against Christian ethics. Thus, the only way we can work for Christian ethics in society is by way of the normal means of public discourse. This requires toleration. But tolerating other views does not mean accepting them (just as the materialist does not have to accept the Christian view) or permitting them to ruin the foundation of Christian ethics. We dare not be silent about our foundation, for it is a silence that can eventually lead to erosion. So let us be political, and let us be involved; but we must avoid surrendering why we do what we do.
There is no question about the historical development of public morals in America. We now know that the need to be “nonsectarian” or “nondenominational” but still broadly Christian in our public discourse eventually led to a total breakdown of the foundation itself (biblical morality). We now find public morals at low ebb, characterized by antireligious sentiments, secularism, and blanket toleration of everyone except the one who believes in divine mandates for proper conduct. The corroding effects of pluralism have not only rusted away at public morals; indeed, evangelicalism has been assaulted by the same forces in modernity.31 To resist this erosion, Christians must construct again the strong walls of theology and ethics both within the church and in interaction with our cultural world.
Another issue for Peter that emerges from this section concerns living in light of and for the future, what Peter calls hope. This hope is grounded in God’s holiness. Peter wants believers to live in light of God’s judgment, a judgment that is at the same time the Christian’s hope for vindication and justice. This judgment satisfies our desire for justice.
While hope is an ethical directive, it partakes of ethics in a different way because it manifests itself not so much in behavior as in attitude and disposition. The one who lives for the future does concrete things (like living in a loving manner), but it is the orientation that leads to a system of checks and balances with love. Those who live for the future have their eyes on the horizon rather than at their feet. Because of this, they exude an attitude about this world and its brevity. We must look further at this idea of living for the future.
Peter manifests two primary emphases in the attitude of living for the future. (1) We must live in light of God’s righteous judgment of our lives (cf. 1:17; 4:5, 17), and (2) we must live in the hope of the joy of final salvation (1:6–9; 2:23; 4:11, 19). These attitudes ought to govern the entirety of our ethical behavior. Every step we take and every move we make should be in light of what God thinks of what we are doing. This is not some form of perverse legalism, any more than my desire to please my wife, Kris, is legalism. A desire to please God is the noblest motivation in life; to reject such a desire in the name of legalism is to misunderstand our family relationship to God. This perspective on our own future ought to influence every area of life with forceful impact. I will mention three.
We ought to shape our attitude toward materialism in light of this future orientation in life. The Western world is a comfortable world, especially when compared to places like Zaire (racked now by a deadly virus) or the former Yugoslavia. And while it is proper and good for wealthy Christians to share with the rest of the world, they will still probably live in comfort. We need to look at this issue, however, from another angle. Material things, like large homes, extra cars, special video and computer equipment, involvement in sports entertainment that costs unreasonable amounts, boats, vacation homes, and special trips to exotic parts of the world, are all tempting. But the joy and delight we take in such things (I can get as excited as anyone about professional sports) can easily detract our attention from living before God in light of his final judgment and can steal any desire for the joy that can only come when our salvation is complete. We need in our materialistic culture a special grace from God to give us a desire for what lies beyond our days and our culture, and we need a new vision of just how great God’s salvation and glory will eventually be. This vision will no doubt lead us to tone down our purchases and to rearrange our schedules so that first things are first.
Understanding our present in light of God’s future will also impact how we plan our lives. In my judgment, far too many Christians waste too much time planning for a future, especially as it concerns insurances, investments, and retirement, and do not consider that future sufficiently enough in light of its contingency and God’s providence. I do not want to sound here like some curmudgeon who believes that planning for the future is wrong, for that is neither biblical nor wise. What I am pointing to is an orientation and a preoccupation. Pastors who plan their ministries in light of sure benefits or profits, leaders of institutions whose plans are subjected only to the bottom line and not to God’s will and his truth, and evangelists who think only in terms of the kinds of churches where profits are large are all guilty of the sin of planning without regard to God’s final judgment and the beauty of final salvation. Planning for our future is wise, but being preoccupied with it may well evince a lack of faith in God’s control of that future.
I have a friend who is constantly in demand to preach and teach at churches throughout the nation. He is regularly asked “what his price is.” His response is always the same. “Please,” he says, “give me an outline of what you need in the way of preaching, the kind of audience I will face, and the dates, and I will seek the face of God to see if this engagement is what God wants me to do because someday I will have to answer to him.” Then he adds, “I will take whatever you give me because I do not preach for money. I preach to announce the good news of Christ, to serve God, and to strengthen the church.” Such an attitude is one that focuses on living for the future, and it has safeguards to prevent one from making plans without regard to that future.
Finally, our health ought also to be subjected to God’s final plans for history. Several ideas come to mind. While it is not wrong to be fit and strong, some motivations for being fit are wrong. We are not immortal, and no matter how hard we work at being fit, we will still die. Some people, however, are motivated to be fit by a fear of death. Fear of death is not a Christian emotion; joy at the prospects of fellowship with God is. We ought, rather, to desire to be fit so that we can serve God (maybe longer than otherwise) better and more energetically. This puts us right back in the lap of Peter’s church. Believers in his day were suffering for their obedience to Christ, and Peter exhorts them not to worry about suffering but to live in constant expectation of God’s final vindication, just as Jesus lived (2:18–25; 3:18–22). Peter shows them how they could adopt an entirely different attitude toward suffering: to trust in God, to look forward to God’s final glory, and in the meantime to enjoy the fellowship with his people as a substitute for what they were losing in society because of their decisions to be Christians.
I conclude with a conversation I recently had with Lukas, my son, when he was fourteen years old—a conversation not unlike I have had with both of my children. We had been at a local sports event, and the vulgarity of the coach and his team was quite noticeable. When we got in the car to ride home, I raised this issue with my son and asked if he noticed. He said that he had heard the vulgarity. What was funny and entertaining to that team, and to some of the spectators, was sad to me. What I said to Lukas that day goes for more than just vulgarity but any moral decision we make: “You and I can talk any way we want. But we need to realize that someday we will stand before a holy God and will have to give a justification for how we have talked. That, in itself, ought to make us pause before we speak and to transform how we talk.” This is living in the light of the future.
In summary, therefore, Peter’s little passage of four exhortations contains strong pillars on which we can construct Christian ethics. He provides us with at least three foundations for determining whether an action is right or wrong. (1) Does it conform to the character of God? (2) Is it the natural outcome of a life that has benefited from the salvation of God? (3) Will it stand up to God’s scrutiny in that final day when he ushers us into his glorious presence?
Original Meaning
Second Exhortation: Holiness (1:14–16)
VERSES 14–16 BEGIN with an assumption of salvation (v. 14a), give the command to holiness (vv. 14b–15), and then return once again to the assumption of salvation (v. 16). The expression “as obedient children” returns to the foundation of ethics in salvation. The obedience mentioned at 1:2 as the response believers make to the gospel (cf. also 1:22) is clearly an expression for conversion. It is only because in modern discussion the term obedience describes how converts behave after conversion that we miss the meaning of this term here.9
The exhortation to holiness begins with a negative statement (“do not conform to the evil desires you had when you lived in ignorance”) that is subordinate10 to a positive one that follows (“just as he who called you is holy, so be holy in all you do”). As Paul urged the Romans not to be conformed to this world (Rom. 12:2), so Peter urges his readers not to be conformed to their former passions, which dominated their lives prior to their entrance into God’s family. Since they are now children of obedience (1:14a), they are to be holy, just as God is holy. We can assume that Peter has in mind here the similarity children are to have to their parents.
God, who is different and unlike anything the Israelites had ever seen or would see, is altogether holy (Ex. 3:5; 15:11; Lev. 20:26; Ps. 99; Hos. 11:9; cf. Luke 4:34; John 6:69; Rev. 1:16–17). Because he had drawn Israel into a special relationship with himself, he expected his people to reflect his nature, including his holiness (Ex. 19:6; Col. 1:2). Those who lived according to God’s commandments and will were considered holy because they were morally excellent (cf. Lev. 20:7–8; Hab. 1:12–13).11 The fundamental connection made here is twofold: Christians should be holy both because they have been converted (1:14a) and because they are children of a God who is himself altogether holy (1:15–16). In fact, Peter prefaces and concludes the exhortation to holiness with a description of God as holy (1:15a, 16). I can think of no section in the Bible that involves more interweaving of ethical exhortation and theological foundations for ethics than these three verses.
Bridging Contexts
GENERAL ETHICAL DIRECTIVES like those in our passage are easy to apply, but certain cultural conditions can make specific applications more difficult. For example, someone who grew up under an abusive father may find it exceedingly difficult to want to live in the “fear of the Father,” just as someone who grew up hearing nothing but the threat of God’s judgment may experience an understandable discomfort reading our passage. Thus, we must be aware of the context of our audience and how they will hear such directives. We may need to supplement or explain a given directive for it to gain the kind of force needed.
What is fundamental for applying general ethical directives, however, is to reflect on the foundation of ethics. I find television talk shows fascinating, if not a bit comical at times (not that I spend much time watching them). It is rare that one of these talk shows does not venture at some point into an ethical issue, whether it is homosexuality, abusive husbands, tattoos, losing weight, or confronting one’s boss. What I find amazing is how easily these talk show hosts and their guests slide from a moral dilemma into a moral stance without any reflection on how they got there or how they can make such a decision. A standard line of reflection contends, “If it doesn’t hurt anyone, then … ,” while another one suggests that ethics are based on “doing good in society.” Appeals to authority, even the American Constitution, generate scorn while an appeal to special revelation (the Bible, the Koran) only begets the suggestion of fundamentalism. At their most religious moments, these hosts will strain their necks out far enough to suggest that “some old-fashioned American ideals” are just what we need in our society today. Whatever the discussion, television talk-show hosts struggle with ethical dilemmas, and their audiences are yearning for answers to some of life’s most difficult problems. But where will these hosts and viewers get answers that satisfy both their sense of what is right and wrong and provide a foundation on which others can build?
Deep in the heart of television, ethical reflection is belief in the essential goodness of humans, or at least a hope that such is the case. If we dig down deeply enough or try harder or discipline our lives, so it is argued, we will find we are capable of making our world better. Then, like an explosion of a bomb in a small room, the host is interrupted with the news of ten-year-olds being shot execution-style by fellow gang members who were not much older. Belief in some kind of goodness quickly falls on deaf ears. Any theory of ethics that assumes humans are somehow inherently good and, if they are simply educated, will begin to behave in morally decent ways is about as believable as the Easter bunny—a great story but it belongs to a previous stage of development. Where then do talk hosts—and they are but representatives of their viewers—get their morals? The answer is that they base their ethics on consensus and on what makes sense to most rational people. But to suggest there are moral absolutes that apply to all people is beyond their capacities to announce.
Let’s take “consensus” as a strategy for determining ethics. We must simply ask, “Whose consensus?” Do we take into consideration moral experts, ministers, average people, special interest groups—just whom do we ask? Are we not building a castle in the sky to think there is some consensus? And what about “rational people”? “Rational people” disagree among themselves. They cannot find any kind of unity over abortion, intervention in foreign countries, health care, welfare, or anything that has been politicized. We all agree that murder is wrong, but we refuse to prohibit the sale and use of hand guns “in the name of personal freedom.” We all agree that cigarette smoking is injurious to health, both for the smoker and the one who must breathe the smoke indirectly, but we cannot come to terms morally with prohibiting the act because it breaks down a person’s freedom. I have no faith in “rational people” being able to determine a code of ethics that is both respective of personal freedom and morally sensible.
Tragically, those who may be influencing our culture the most at the moral level are people who refuse to be engaged in a reflective discussion about how to make ethical decisions, for such reflection would expose the superficiality of their ethical decisions. It would also unmask the fear that each hides, namely, that there is no way to make ethical decisions binding for all apart from a belief in a final revelation or in a unique God. If human consensus breaks down and if human rationality will not get us there, then we will either be awash in a sea of relativity (fortunately for us, there is a cooperative sense of some things being good) or be blown by the same winds into the hands of a revealing God.
That’s exactly where Peter is—in the hands of a revealing God, whose character and words chart the course of ethics and morality.24 Ethics in a Christian context begins, oddly enough, with a belief in the depravity of humans, not their goodness. Thus, Peter says, his readers have been redeemed from a slavery to their former, empty traditions (1:18), they have been given a new life and a living hope (1:3–5), and they have been purified (1:22)—the latter two assume the opposite as a condition from which they needed deliverance: hopelessness and moral filthiness. Human beings are in need of repair, restoration, and reformation.
Peter goes on to argue that his readers have been given a new life by God, and this conviction provides the ground of morality for Christianity. Until we have been given God’s life and have partaken of God’s character (cf. 2 Peter 1:4), we have no chance of performing God’s will as he wants us to. Conversion and participation in God’s nature through conversion are the only true and enduring foundations for Christian ethics. John Murray, a brilliant theologian-ethicist, once concluded: “Remove from Scripture the transcendent holiness, righteousness, and truth of God and its ethic disintegrates.”25
As we try to move the ethics of Peter into our world, then, we must carry with us the foundations he builds upon: the nature of God, the sinfulness of humans, the need of divine revelation, and the need of salvation.26 If we urge Peter’s ethics while neglecting his foundation, we are building an edifice that will collapse. Salvation, Peter argues, is necessary in order for God’s people to live like God’s people in our world: “The redemptive process … is the only answer to the impossibility inherent in our depravity.”27 Or, as C. S. Lewis asks in his inimitable style, “What is the good of telling the ships how to steer so as to avoid collisions if, in fact, they are such crazy old tubs that they cannot be steered at all?” He continues, “You cannot make men good by law: and without good men you cannot have a good society. That is why we must go on to think of the second thing: of morality inside the individual.”28
Accordingly, the area where this passage from 1 Peter speaks most clearly to our world is in the area of ethical systems and how to make ethical decisions. Peter’s approach is theological, and the Christian who follows him will establish his or her ethical decisions on the basis of God’s nature and God’s Word.
Contemporary Significance
OUR DISCUSSION ABOVE began to show the significance of Peter’s theoretical framework for our world today. I want to continue that discussion here and then move to a related topic, the importance of living for the future and in light of that future. Living in light of God’s judgment is part of the theme of anchoring ethics in God’s nature and revealed Word because it involves a decision to live in light of God’s holy character, which forms the foundation of his final judgment.
As much as anyone in the history of American Christendom, Thomas Jefferson (who was himself merely a brilliant spokesman for a larger worldwide trend) reduced Christianity to morals, and he founded those morals on an appreciation of classical writers, the innate goodness of humans, the Creator’s implanting in humans an instinct for what is right, and the Enlightenment understanding of reason.29 Hence, Jeffersonian morals are really a reflection of a European trend toward rational ethics. His rational, or better yet instinctive, morality became the essence of liberal Protestantism that has gripped North America for the better part of this century. The following equation expresses the mood of many Western societies: A Christian is someone who is good and loving; a loving and good person is a Christian. While biblical Christianity affirms the first, it does not necessarily affirm the second. The problem with rational morality as the definition of Christianity is that the two are not distinguished.
Our concern here, however, is not with the history of American ethics or Jeffersonian ideals. Rather, our concern is with the foundation of ethics. Where do we begin when we want to state a moral good?30 To simplify greatly, ethics are either founded in ourselves (e.g., through reason, intuition, nature, moral instinct, conscience) or outside ourselves (e.g., through revelation, an established code of ethics, the Constitution). Christian orthodoxy teaches that ethics flows from salvation and that humans, by themselves, cannot discern the will of God—for personal salvation, for personal ethics, or for the social order. We know God’s will because in his grace he has made his will known to us through his revelation, the Bible being the primary mode of this revelation. The same construction applies to our knowledge of ethics: We know what is good from what is bad because God has told us in his Word, beginning with the Mosaic legislation and climaxing in the teachings of Jesus and the apostolic testimony.
Recently I zipped home from teaching to grab a round of golf in what I thought would be one of the last nice days of the year. Rarely do golf courses let someone play alone, so I assumed I would be paired with other golfers whom I did not know. The course was empty for three holes, and I caught up to two distinguished African-American gentlemen, whom I joined for the rest of the round. We made enough light talk for me to discover that one of them was a social worker and the other a pastor. After a few holes I raised the issue of the problems of inner-city violence, hoping to generate an ethical conversation: “What do you think is the solution to the problems in the inner city?” Tony, the first one to speak, said, “God’s Word! In one of the last Scriptures of the Old Testament [Mal. 4:6], it says that in the last days God will return the hearts of the fathers to their children. Unless hearts are made right,” he went on to say, “there is no hope for the inner city.” Then he made a stunning observation about our official “American policy”: “All the money and programs in the world will not change people’s hearts.”
I agreed wholeheartedly with their solution: salvation. I also agreed that commitment to salvation as central to ethical problems does not alleviate us from seeking to help people in their socially deprived conditions. Will, the other man, said quite tersely: “Don’t get me wrong. Those babies didn’t choose to come into this world, and we can’t choose to neglect them. We need welfare for those kids.” In my judgment, these two men crystallize the testimony of God’s people in the history of the church. Ethics begin with salvation, but we dare not neglect our social duties.
But what if others in society do not believe in salvation in Christ? Can we expect to stop society until it becomes Christian before we can go on profitably with ethical issues? Obviously not. But Peter knows of no foundation for proper conduct before God that does not begin with salvation and the life that comes in Christ. Precisely at this point too many Christians have compromised themselves. Ours is a pluralistic world, and this means that public discourse has to be tolerant of opposing viewpoints and alternative foundations for ethical discussions. But Christians must never pretend that the ethics of Christianity can be discovered by pure reason (as was attempted in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries) or by legislation. The proper motive for morals comes only from God’s work of grace, and a life pleasing to God finds its blueprint in the pages of the Bible. While we may have to tolerate alternate viewpoints, we must learn in our toleration not to compromise the foundation on which we stand. In our desire to be influential or to be acceptable, too frequently we have adopted the level of public discourse as the only level for ethical discussions.
Christians desire biblical ethics for society, but our society is frequently against Christian ethics. Thus, the only way we can work for Christian ethics in society is by way of the normal means of public discourse. This requires toleration. But tolerating other views does not mean accepting them (just as the materialist does not have to accept the Christian view) or permitting them to ruin the foundation of Christian ethics. We dare not be silent about our foundation, for it is a silence that can eventually lead to erosion. So let us be political, and let us be involved; but we must avoid surrendering why we do what we do.
There is no question about the historical development of public morals in America. We now know that the need to be “nonsectarian” or “nondenominational” but still broadly Christian in our public discourse eventually led to a total breakdown of the foundation itself (biblical morality). We now find public morals at low ebb, characterized by antireligious sentiments, secularism, and blanket toleration of everyone except the one who believes in divine mandates for proper conduct. The corroding effects of pluralism have not only rusted away at public morals; indeed, evangelicalism has been assaulted by the same forces in modernity.31 To resist this erosion, Christians must construct again the strong walls of theology and ethics both within the church and in interaction with our cultural world.
Another issue for Peter that emerges from this section concerns living in light of and for the future, what Peter calls hope. This hope is grounded in God’s holiness. Peter wants believers to live in light of God’s judgment, a judgment that is at the same time the Christian’s hope for vindication and justice. This judgment satisfies our desire for justice.
While hope is an ethical directive, it partakes of ethics in a different way because it manifests itself not so much in behavior as in attitude and disposition. The one who lives for the future does concrete things (like living in a loving manner), but it is the orientation that leads to a system of checks and balances with love. Those who live for the future have their eyes on the horizon rather than at their feet. Because of this, they exude an attitude about this world and its brevity. We must look further at this idea of living for the future.
Peter manifests two primary emphases in the attitude of living for the future. (1) We must live in light of God’s righteous judgment of our lives (cf. 1:17; 4:5, 17), and (2) we must live in the hope of the joy of final salvation (1:6–9; 2:23; 4:11, 19). These attitudes ought to govern the entirety of our ethical behavior. Every step we take and every move we make should be in light of what God thinks of what we are doing. This is not some form of perverse legalism, any more than my desire to please my wife, Kris, is legalism. A desire to please God is the noblest motivation in life; to reject such a desire in the name of legalism is to misunderstand our family relationship to God. This perspective on our own future ought to influence every area of life with forceful impact. I will mention three.
We ought to shape our attitude toward materialism in light of this future orientation in life. The Western world is a comfortable world, especially when compared to places like Zaire (racked now by a deadly virus) or the former Yugoslavia. And while it is proper and good for wealthy Christians to share with the rest of the world, they will still probably live in comfort. We need to look at this issue, however, from another angle. Material things, like large homes, extra cars, special video and computer equipment, involvement in sports entertainment that costs unreasonable amounts, boats, vacation homes, and special trips to exotic parts of the world, are all tempting. But the joy and delight we take in such things (I can get as excited as anyone about professional sports) can easily detract our attention from living before God in light of his final judgment and can steal any desire for the joy that can only come when our salvation is complete. We need in our materialistic culture a special grace from God to give us a desire for what lies beyond our days and our culture, and we need a new vision of just how great God’s salvation and glory will eventually be. This vision will no doubt lead us to tone down our purchases and to rearrange our schedules so that first things are first.
Understanding our present in light of God’s future will also impact how we plan our lives. In my judgment, far too many Christians waste too much time planning for a future, especially as it concerns insurances, investments, and retirement, and do not consider that future sufficiently enough in light of its contingency and God’s providence. I do not want to sound here like some curmudgeon who believes that planning for the future is wrong, for that is neither biblical nor wise. What I am pointing to is an orientation and a preoccupation. Pastors who plan their ministries in light of sure benefits or profits, leaders of institutions whose plans are subjected only to the bottom line and not to God’s will and his truth, and evangelists who think only in terms of the kinds of churches where profits are large are all guilty of the sin of planning without regard to God’s final judgment and the beauty of final salvation. Planning for our future is wise, but being preoccupied with it may well evince a lack of faith in God’s control of that future.
I have a friend who is constantly in demand to preach and teach at churches throughout the nation. He is regularly asked “what his price is.” His response is always the same. “Please,” he says, “give me an outline of what you need in the way of preaching, the kind of audience I will face, and the dates, and I will seek the face of God to see if this engagement is what God wants me to do because someday I will have to answer to him.” Then he adds, “I will take whatever you give me because I do not preach for money. I preach to announce the good news of Christ, to serve God, and to strengthen the church.” Such an attitude is one that focuses on living for the future, and it has safeguards to prevent one from making plans without regard to that future.
Finally, our health ought also to be subjected to God’s final plans for history. Several ideas come to mind. While it is not wrong to be fit and strong, some motivations for being fit are wrong. We are not immortal, and no matter how hard we work at being fit, we will still die. Some people, however, are motivated to be fit by a fear of death. Fear of death is not a Christian emotion; joy at the prospects of fellowship with God is. We ought, rather, to desire to be fit so that we can serve God (maybe longer than otherwise) better and more energetically. This puts us right back in the lap of Peter’s church. Believers in his day were suffering for their obedience to Christ, and Peter exhorts them not to worry about suffering but to live in constant expectation of God’s final vindication, just as Jesus lived (2:18–25; 3:18–22). Peter shows them how they could adopt an entirely different attitude toward suffering: to trust in God, to look forward to God’s final glory, and in the meantime to enjoy the fellowship with his people as a substitute for what they were losing in society because of their decisions to be Christians.
I conclude with a conversation I recently had with Lukas, my son, when he was fourteen years old—a conversation not unlike I have had with both of my children. We had been at a local sports event, and the vulgarity of the coach and his team was quite noticeable. When we got in the car to ride home, I raised this issue with my son and asked if he noticed. He said that he had heard the vulgarity. What was funny and entertaining to that team, and to some of the spectators, was sad to me. What I said to Lukas that day goes for more than just vulgarity but any moral decision we make: “You and I can talk any way we want. But we need to realize that someday we will stand before a holy God and will have to give a justification for how we have talked. That, in itself, ought to make us pause before we speak and to transform how we talk.” This is living in the light of the future.
In summary, therefore, Peter’s little passage of four exhortations contains strong pillars on which we can construct Christian ethics. He provides us with at least three foundations for determining whether an action is right or wrong. (1) Does it conform to the character of God? (2) Is it the natural outcome of a life that has benefited from the salvation of God? (3) Will it stand up to God’s scrutiny in that final day when he ushers us into his glorious presence?
Original Meaning
Third Exhortation: Fear of God (1:17–21)
THE FLOW OF thought here again emphasizes the foundation of ethics. Peter begins with the foundation for living in the fear of God (1:17a), then exhorts his readers to live that way (1:17b), and finally reflects again on the foundation for living in that fear, this time as it relates to their redemption (1:18–21).
Put simply, Peter says that if believers call as Father the one who judges indiscriminately, penetratingly, and absolutely honestly, then they had better live in fear of this God, for he is altogether holy and will judge justly. The notion of God as Judge underlies many exhortations to obedience in the Bible. Furthermore, if there is a God, if the God of Israel and Jesus are the true one God, and if this God is altogether holy, it follows that this God must judge if he is to allow anyone in his presence. He cannot tolerate any sin, for sin is repulsive to his holiness. The God of the Bible is the Judge of all (cf. Gen. 18:25; Ps. 75:7; Acts 5:1–10; Heb. 12:23; Revelation), and, as Peter says, he is “ready to judge the living and the dead” (1 Peter 4:5) with a judgment that begins “with the family of God” (4:17). This judgment is according to their works, because these works are the logical result of one’s relationship to God (Matt. 16:27; 25:31–46; Rom. 2:6–11; 14:9–12; 1 Cor. 3:10–15; 2 Cor. 5:10).12 As Stephen Travis has said, “The final judgment means God’s underlining and ratification of the relationship or non-relationship with him which men have chosen in this life.”13
Knowing that God is judge and that he judges with absolute fairness14 drives us to live in a healthy fear and awe of him (cf. 2:17, 18; 3:2, 15; see Prov. 1:7; Matt. 10:28; 2 Cor. 5:11; 7:1; Eph. 5:21; Phil. 2:12; 1 Tim. 5:20; Heb. 4:1; 10:31).15 This can only refer to the constant knowledge the child of God (1 Peter 1:14) has that whatever he or she is about to think or do is subject to the scrutiny of God’s penetrating holiness and love. And when his beautiful holy love checks our thoughts and our actions, we live in the light of his character and in the fear of him, regardless of social conditions.16 This fear is neither dread nor anxiety; rather, it is the healthy response of a human being before an altogether different kind of being, God, and is a sign of spiritual health and gratitude. This holy Judge we now call “Father,” a term indicating intimacy and love but also respect and submission. That is, though we now call God “Father” (cf. 1:14), as Jesus taught (Matt. 6:9), we must not let that familiarity with God degrade his holiness, for God is just and his judgment will be just.
To this fear of the Judge Peter adds a second motive for a life of obedience: the nature of redemption (1:18–21). The former life of his addressees was an “empty way of life handed down to you from your forefathers.” What had been considered venerable tradition was now considered “empty” (cf. Jer. 10:15; Acts 14:15; Rom. 1:21; 8:20; 1 Cor. 3:20; Eph. 4:17); thus, a new tradition, one rooted in Jesus and the apostolic testimony, was needed.17
From this former life believers have been redeemed, that is, purchased with a price—the blood of Jesus Christ.18 The plight of humans is moral offense (Rom. 1:18–3:20; Eph. 1:7; Col. 1:14), sinfulness, and bondage to that vicious condition (Rom. 7:1–6; Gal. 3:13; 4:5; Titus 2:14; 1 Peter 1:18); the price paid is the atoning death of God’s Son (Mark 10:45; Rom. 3:21–26; 5:1–11; Gal. 3:13; 4:4–5; 2 Cor. 5:21; Titus 2:14). As a result, we are now back in God’s ownership as his servants, free from sin and death (Rom. 6; 8; 1 Cor. 6:19–20; 7:22–23; Gal. 5:1). Since we know we have been redeemed by the precious blood of Christ, we should be grateful to God for our new family and live in fear and holiness before him.
Reflection on the redemption accomplished by Christ leads Peter to reflect further on Christ: “He was chosen before the creation of the world, but was revealed in these last times for your sake” (1:20). Furthermore, this same Christ is the agent in our developing faith and hope in God (1:21).
Bridging Contexts
GENERAL ETHICAL DIRECTIVES like those in our passage are easy to apply, but certain cultural conditions can make specific applications more difficult. For example, someone who grew up under an abusive father may find it exceedingly difficult to want to live in the “fear of the Father,” just as someone who grew up hearing nothing but the threat of God’s judgment may experience an understandable discomfort reading our passage. Thus, we must be aware of the context of our audience and how they will hear such directives. We may need to supplement or explain a given directive for it to gain the kind of force needed.
What is fundamental for applying general ethical directives, however, is to reflect on the foundation of ethics. I find television talk shows fascinating, if not a bit comical at times (not that I spend much time watching them). It is rare that one of these talk shows does not venture at some point into an ethical issue, whether it is homosexuality, abusive husbands, tattoos, losing weight, or confronting one’s boss. What I find amazing is how easily these talk show hosts and their guests slide from a moral dilemma into a moral stance without any reflection on how they got there or how they can make such a decision. A standard line of reflection contends, “If it doesn’t hurt anyone, then … ,” while another one suggests that ethics are based on “doing good in society.” Appeals to authority, even the American Constitution, generate scorn while an appeal to special revelation (the Bible, the Koran) only begets the suggestion of fundamentalism. At their most religious moments, these hosts will strain their necks out far enough to suggest that “some old-fashioned American ideals” are just what we need in our society today. Whatever the discussion, television talk-show hosts struggle with ethical dilemmas, and their audiences are yearning for answers to some of life’s most difficult problems. But where will these hosts and viewers get answers that satisfy both their sense of what is right and wrong and provide a foundation on which others can build?
Deep in the heart of television, ethical reflection is belief in the essential goodness of humans, or at least a hope that such is the case. If we dig down deeply enough or try harder or discipline our lives, so it is argued, we will find we are capable of making our world better. Then, like an explosion of a bomb in a small room, the host is interrupted with the news of ten-year-olds being shot execution-style by fellow gang members who were not much older. Belief in some kind of goodness quickly falls on deaf ears. Any theory of ethics that assumes humans are somehow inherently good and, if they are simply educated, will begin to behave in morally decent ways is about as believable as the Easter bunny—a great story but it belongs to a previous stage of development. Where then do talk hosts—and they are but representatives of their viewers—get their morals? The answer is that they base their ethics on consensus and on what makes sense to most rational people. But to suggest there are moral absolutes that apply to all people is beyond their capacities to announce.
Let’s take “consensus” as a strategy for determining ethics. We must simply ask, “Whose consensus?” Do we take into consideration moral experts, ministers, average people, special interest groups—just whom do we ask? Are we not building a castle in the sky to think there is some consensus? And what about “rational people”? “Rational people” disagree among themselves. They cannot find any kind of unity over abortion, intervention in foreign countries, health care, welfare, or anything that has been politicized. We all agree that murder is wrong, but we refuse to prohibit the sale and use of hand guns “in the name of personal freedom.” We all agree that cigarette smoking is injurious to health, both for the smoker and the one who must breathe the smoke indirectly, but we cannot come to terms morally with prohibiting the act because it breaks down a person’s freedom. I have no faith in “rational people” being able to determine a code of ethics that is both respective of personal freedom and morally sensible.
Tragically, those who may be influencing our culture the most at the moral level are people who refuse to be engaged in a reflective discussion about how to make ethical decisions, for such reflection would expose the superficiality of their ethical decisions. It would also unmask the fear that each hides, namely, that there is no way to make ethical decisions binding for all apart from a belief in a final revelation or in a unique God. If human consensus breaks down and if human rationality will not get us there, then we will either be awash in a sea of relativity (fortunately for us, there is a cooperative sense of some things being good) or be blown by the same winds into the hands of a revealing God.
That’s exactly where Peter is—in the hands of a revealing God, whose character and words chart the course of ethics and morality.24 Ethics in a Christian context begins, oddly enough, with a belief in the depravity of humans, not their goodness. Thus, Peter says, his readers have been redeemed from a slavery to their former, empty traditions (1:18), they have been given a new life and a living hope (1:3–5), and they have been purified (1:22)—the latter two assume the opposite as a condition from which they needed deliverance: hopelessness and moral filthiness. Human beings are in need of repair, restoration, and reformation.
Peter goes on to argue that his readers have been given a new life by God, and this conviction provides the ground of morality for Christianity. Until we have been given God’s life and have partaken of God’s character (cf. 2 Peter 1:4), we have no chance of performing God’s will as he wants us to. Conversion and participation in God’s nature through conversion are the only true and enduring foundations for Christian ethics. John Murray, a brilliant theologian-ethicist, once concluded: “Remove from Scripture the transcendent holiness, righteousness, and truth of God and its ethic disintegrates.”25
As we try to move the ethics of Peter into our world, then, we must carry with us the foundations he builds upon: the nature of God, the sinfulness of humans, the need of divine revelation, and the need of salvation.26 If we urge Peter’s ethics while neglecting his foundation, we are building an edifice that will collapse. Salvation, Peter argues, is necessary in order for God’s people to live like God’s people in our world: “The redemptive process … is the only answer to the impossibility inherent in our depravity.”27 Or, as C. S. Lewis asks in his inimitable style, “What is the good of telling the ships how to steer so as to avoid collisions if, in fact, they are such crazy old tubs that they cannot be steered at all?” He continues, “You cannot make men good by law: and without good men you cannot have a good society. That is why we must go on to think of the second thing: of morality inside the individual.”28
Accordingly, the area where this passage from 1 Peter speaks most clearly to our world is in the area of ethical systems and how to make ethical decisions. Peter’s approach is theological, and the Christian who follows him will establish his or her ethical decisions on the basis of God’s nature and God’s Word.
Contemporary Significance
OUR DISCUSSION ABOVE began to show the significance of Peter’s theoretical framework for our world today. I want to continue that discussion here and then move to a related topic, the importance of living for the future and in light of that future. Living in light of God’s judgment is part of the theme of anchoring ethics in God’s nature and revealed Word because it involves a decision to live in light of God’s holy character, which forms the foundation of his final judgment.
As much as anyone in the history of American Christendom, Thomas Jefferson (who was himself merely a brilliant spokesman for a larger worldwide trend) reduced Christianity to morals, and he founded those morals on an appreciation of classical writers, the innate goodness of humans, the Creator’s implanting in humans an instinct for what is right, and the Enlightenment understanding of reason.29 Hence, Jeffersonian morals are really a reflection of a European trend toward rational ethics. His rational, or better yet instinctive, morality became the essence of liberal Protestantism that has gripped North America for the better part of this century. The following equation expresses the mood of many Western societies: A Christian is someone who is good and loving; a loving and good person is a Christian. While biblical Christianity affirms the first, it does not necessarily affirm the second. The problem with rational morality as the definition of Christianity is that the two are not distinguished.
Our concern here, however, is not with the history of American ethics or Jeffersonian ideals. Rather, our concern is with the foundation of ethics. Where do we begin when we want to state a moral good?30 To simplify greatly, ethics are either founded in ourselves (e.g., through reason, intuition, nature, moral instinct, conscience) or outside ourselves (e.g., through revelation, an established code of ethics, the Constitution). Christian orthodoxy teaches that ethics flows from salvation and that humans, by themselves, cannot discern the will of God—for personal salvation, for personal ethics, or for the social order. We know God’s will because in his grace he has made his will known to us through his revelation, the Bible being the primary mode of this revelation. The same construction applies to our knowledge of ethics: We know what is good from what is bad because God has told us in his Word, beginning with the Mosaic legislation and climaxing in the teachings of Jesus and the apostolic testimony.
Recently I zipped home from teaching to grab a round of golf in what I thought would be one of the last nice days of the year. Rarely do golf courses let someone play alone, so I assumed I would be paired with other golfers whom I did not know. The course was empty for three holes, and I caught up to two distinguished African-American gentlemen, whom I joined for the rest of the round. We made enough light talk for me to discover that one of them was a social worker and the other a pastor. After a few holes I raised the issue of the problems of inner-city violence, hoping to generate an ethical conversation: “What do you think is the solution to the problems in the inner city?” Tony, the first one to speak, said, “God’s Word! In one of the last Scriptures of the Old Testament [Mal. 4:6], it says that in the last days God will return the hearts of the fathers to their children. Unless hearts are made right,” he went on to say, “there is no hope for the inner city.” Then he made a stunning observation about our official “American policy”: “All the money and programs in the world will not change people’s hearts.”
I agreed wholeheartedly with their solution: salvation. I also agreed that commitment to salvation as central to ethical problems does not alleviate us from seeking to help people in their socially deprived conditions. Will, the other man, said quite tersely: “Don’t get me wrong. Those babies didn’t choose to come into this world, and we can’t choose to neglect them. We need welfare for those kids.” In my judgment, these two men crystallize the testimony of God’s people in the history of the church. Ethics begin with salvation, but we dare not neglect our social duties.
But what if others in society do not believe in salvation in Christ? Can we expect to stop society until it becomes Christian before we can go on profitably with ethical issues? Obviously not. But Peter knows of no foundation for proper conduct before God that does not begin with salvation and the life that comes in Christ. Precisely at this point too many Christians have compromised themselves. Ours is a pluralistic world, and this means that public discourse has to be tolerant of opposing viewpoints and alternative foundations for ethical discussions. But Christians must never pretend that the ethics of Christianity can be discovered by pure reason (as was attempted in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries) or by legislation. The proper motive for morals comes only from God’s work of grace, and a life pleasing to God finds its blueprint in the pages of the Bible. While we may have to tolerate alternate viewpoints, we must learn in our toleration not to compromise the foundation on which we stand. In our desire to be influential or to be acceptable, too frequently we have adopted the level of public discourse as the only level for ethical discussions.
Christians desire biblical ethics for society, but our society is frequently against Christian ethics. Thus, the only way we can work for Christian ethics in society is by way of the normal means of public discourse. This requires toleration. But tolerating other views does not mean accepting them (just as the materialist does not have to accept the Christian view) or permitting them to ruin the foundation of Christian ethics. We dare not be silent about our foundation, for it is a silence that can eventually lead to erosion. So let us be political, and let us be involved; but we must avoid surrendering why we do what we do.
There is no question about the historical development of public morals in America. We now know that the need to be “nonsectarian” or “nondenominational” but still broadly Christian in our public discourse eventually led to a total breakdown of the foundation itself (biblical morality). We now find public morals at low ebb, characterized by antireligious sentiments, secularism, and blanket toleration of everyone except the one who believes in divine mandates for proper conduct. The corroding effects of pluralism have not only rusted away at public morals; indeed, evangelicalism has been assaulted by the same forces in modernity.31 To resist this erosion, Christians must construct again the strong walls of theology and ethics both within the church and in interaction with our cultural world.
Another issue for Peter that emerges from this section concerns living in light of and for the future, what Peter calls hope. This hope is grounded in God’s holiness. Peter wants believers to live in light of God’s judgment, a judgment that is at the same time the Christian’s hope for vindication and justice. This judgment satisfies our desire for justice.
While hope is an ethical directive, it partakes of ethics in a different way because it manifests itself not so much in behavior as in attitude and disposition. The one who lives for the future does concrete things (like living in a loving manner), but it is the orientation that leads to a system of checks and balances with love. Those who live for the future have their eyes on the horizon rather than at their feet. Because of this, they exude an attitude about this world and its brevity. We must look further at this idea of living for the future.
Peter manifests two primary emphases in the attitude of living for the future. (1) We must live in light of God’s righteous judgment of our lives (cf. 1:17; 4:5, 17), and (2) we must live in the hope of the joy of final salvation (1:6–9; 2:23; 4:11, 19). These attitudes ought to govern the entirety of our ethical behavior. Every step we take and every move we make should be in light of what God thinks of what we are doing. This is not some form of perverse legalism, any more than my desire to please my wife, Kris, is legalism. A desire to please God is the noblest motivation in life; to reject such a desire in the name of legalism is to misunderstand our family relationship to God. This perspective on our own future ought to influence every area of life with forceful impact. I will mention three.
We ought to shape our attitude toward materialism in light of this future orientation in life. The Western world is a comfortable world, especially when compared to places like Zaire (racked now by a deadly virus) or the former Yugoslavia. And while it is proper and good for wealthy Christians to share with the rest of the world, they will still probably live in comfort. We need to look at this issue, however, from another angle. Material things, like large homes, extra cars, special video and computer equipment, involvement in sports entertainment that costs unreasonable amounts, boats, vacation homes, and special trips to exotic parts of the world, are all tempting. But the joy and delight we take in such things (I can get as excited as anyone about professional sports) can easily detract our attention from living before God in light of his final judgment and can steal any desire for the joy that can only come when our salvation is complete. We need in our materialistic culture a special grace from God to give us a desire for what lies beyond our days and our culture, and we need a new vision of just how great God’s salvation and glory will eventually be. This vision will no doubt lead us to tone down our purchases and to rearrange our schedules so that first things are first.
Understanding our present in light of God’s future will also impact how we plan our lives. In my judgment, far too many Christians waste too much time planning for a future, especially as it concerns insurances, investments, and retirement, and do not consider that future sufficiently enough in light of its contingency and God’s providence. I do not want to sound here like some curmudgeon who believes that planning for the future is wrong, for that is neither biblical nor wise. What I am pointing to is an orientation and a preoccupation. Pastors who plan their ministries in light of sure benefits or profits, leaders of institutions whose plans are subjected only to the bottom line and not to God’s will and his truth, and evangelists who think only in terms of the kinds of churches where profits are large are all guilty of the sin of planning without regard to God’s final judgment and the beauty of final salvation. Planning for our future is wise, but being preoccupied with it may well evince a lack of faith in God’s control of that future.
I have a friend who is constantly in demand to preach and teach at churches throughout the nation. He is regularly asked “what his price is.” His response is always the same. “Please,” he says, “give me an outline of what you need in the way of preaching, the kind of audience I will face, and the dates, and I will seek the face of God to see if this engagement is what God wants me to do because someday I will have to answer to him.” Then he adds, “I will take whatever you give me because I do not preach for money. I preach to announce the good news of Christ, to serve God, and to strengthen the church.” Such an attitude is one that focuses on living for the future, and it has safeguards to prevent one from making plans without regard to that future.
Finally, our health ought also to be subjected to God’s final plans for history. Several ideas come to mind. While it is not wrong to be fit and strong, some motivations for being fit are wrong. We are not immortal, and no matter how hard we work at being fit, we will still die. Some people, however, are motivated to be fit by a fear of death. Fear of death is not a Christian emotion; joy at the prospects of fellowship with God is. We ought, rather, to desire to be fit so that we can serve God (maybe longer than otherwise) better and more energetically. This puts us right back in the lap of Peter’s church. Believers in his day were suffering for their obedience to Christ, and Peter exhorts them not to worry about suffering but to live in constant expectation of God’s final vindication, just as Jesus lived (2:18–25; 3:18–22). Peter shows them how they could adopt an entirely different attitude toward suffering: to trust in God, to look forward to God’s final glory, and in the meantime to enjoy the fellowship with his people as a substitute for what they were losing in society because of their decisions to be Christians.
I conclude with a conversation I recently had with Lukas, my son, when he was fourteen years old—a conversation not unlike I have had with both of my children. We had been at a local sports event, and the vulgarity of the coach and his team was quite noticeable. When we got in the car to ride home, I raised this issue with my son and asked if he noticed. He said that he had heard the vulgarity. What was funny and entertaining to that team, and to some of the spectators, was sad to me. What I said to Lukas that day goes for more than just vulgarity but any moral decision we make: “You and I can talk any way we want. But we need to realize that someday we will stand before a holy God and will have to give a justification for how we have talked. That, in itself, ought to make us pause before we speak and to transform how we talk.” This is living in the light of the future.
In summary, therefore, Peter’s little passage of four exhortations contains strong pillars on which we can construct Christian ethics. He provides us with at least three foundations for determining whether an action is right or wrong. (1) Does it conform to the character of God? (2) Is it the natural outcome of a life that has benefited from the salvation of God? (3) Will it stand up to God’s scrutiny in that final day when he ushers us into his glorious presence?
Original Meaning
Fourth Exhortation: Love One Another (1:22–25)
PETER’S FINAL EXHORTATION is again rooted in the “before and after” of conversion: Since you have been purified, love one another, because you have been born again. The foundation for love that Peter builds on is that “you have purified yourselves by obeying the truth so that you have sincere love for your brothers” (1:22). Their purification was by means of the sprinkling (cf. 1:2; also Ex. 19:10; Acts 21:24, 26; 1 John 3:3), and they responded to God by obeying the truth of the gospel (1 Peter 1:2, 14).19 The result of obeying the truth was that they were ushered into the realm of brotherly love.20
Almost redundantly, Peter exhorts his addressees to “love one another deeply, from the heart” (1:22). The word “deeply” (found also at 4:8) speaks of the effort required for that love, the depth of it for one another, and the duration of it (until the end). The word is frequently associated with characteristics of prayer: fervency, constancy, and effort (cf. Luke 22:44; Acts 12:5).21 Peter expects his churches to be filled with people who love one another in that way, who try to understand one another, who give the other person the benefit of the doubt, and who reach out to others in the same love. But, as Howard Snyder says,
The church today is suffering a fellowship crisis…. In a world of big, impersonal institutions, the church often looks like just another big, impersonal institution…. One seldom finds within the institutionalized church today that winsome intimacy among people where masks are dropped, honesty prevails, and that sense of communication and community beyond the human abounds—where there is literally the fellowship of and in the Holy Spirit.22
Peter wants churches filled with people who love one another and where intimacy is the inevitable result of being made holy by God’s grace.
Peter returns again to the foundation23 of their love: their regeneration (1:23). The new birth gave them a new likeness to a loving God and a new family, which had the characteristic and ability to love one another. Their new birth came about by means of an “imperishable” seed; like the precious blood of Jesus (1:19), that seed was rooted in the living God (1:23) and, because it was eternally effective (1:24–25a), gave them an ultimate foundation for loving one another deeply. Humans and humanly created things are like grass in that they will perish and vanish away. But the Word of God, planted in Christians, is eternal and grows in those same Christians to give them an eternal existence. This effective seed is, in fact, the sure word of God that they heard in the gospel that was preached to them (1:25b).
In summary, Peter exhorts the Christians of Asia Minor to work out their salvation by building a life of ethics that is rooted in the salvation that God has given to them and is based in the holy and loving character of God. Ethics, then, is a part of theology, not something added to theology in a moment of practical urgency. Ethical decisions, in fact, are logical extensions of theology. Without solid theology, that is, a theology that reflects on the character and actions of God, there is no foundation for ethics. If one’s ethics is not rooted in Christian theology, it becomes nothing more than a pluralistic option thrown into the winds of cultural changes.
Bridging Contexts
GENERAL ETHICAL DIRECTIVES like those in our passage are easy to apply, but certain cultural conditions can make specific applications more difficult. For example, someone who grew up under an abusive father may find it exceedingly difficult to want to live in the “fear of the Father,” just as someone who grew up hearing nothing but the threat of God’s judgment may experience an understandable discomfort reading our passage. Thus, we must be aware of the context of our audience and how they will hear such directives. We may need to supplement or explain a given directive for it to gain the kind of force needed.
What is fundamental for applying general ethical directives, however, is to reflect on the foundation of ethics. I find television talk shows fascinating, if not a bit comical at times (not that I spend much time watching them). It is rare that one of these talk shows does not venture at some point into an ethical issue, whether it is homosexuality, abusive husbands, tattoos, losing weight, or confronting one’s boss. What I find amazing is how easily these talk show hosts and their guests slide from a moral dilemma into a moral stance without any reflection on how they got there or how they can make such a decision. A standard line of reflection contends, “If it doesn’t hurt anyone, then … ,” while another one suggests that ethics are based on “doing good in society.” Appeals to authority, even the American Constitution, generate scorn while an appeal to special revelation (the Bible, the Koran) only begets the suggestion of fundamentalism. At their most religious moments, these hosts will strain their necks out far enough to suggest that “some old-fashioned American ideals” are just what we need in our society today. Whatever the discussion, television talk-show hosts struggle with ethical dilemmas, and their audiences are yearning for answers to some of life’s most difficult problems. But where will these hosts and viewers get answers that satisfy both their sense of what is right and wrong and provide a foundation on which others can build?
Deep in the heart of television, ethical reflection is belief in the essential goodness of humans, or at least a hope that such is the case. If we dig down deeply enough or try harder or discipline our lives, so it is argued, we will find we are capable of making our world better. Then, like an explosion of a bomb in a small room, the host is interrupted with the news of ten-year-olds being shot execution-style by fellow gang members who were not much older. Belief in some kind of goodness quickly falls on deaf ears. Any theory of ethics that assumes humans are somehow inherently good and, if they are simply educated, will begin to behave in morally decent ways is about as believable as the Easter bunny—a great story but it belongs to a previous stage of development. Where then do talk hosts—and they are but representatives of their viewers—get their morals? The answer is that they base their ethics on consensus and on what makes sense to most rational people. But to suggest there are moral absolutes that apply to all people is beyond their capacities to announce.
Let’s take “consensus” as a strategy for determining ethics. We must simply ask, “Whose consensus?” Do we take into consideration moral experts, ministers, average people, special interest groups—just whom do we ask? Are we not building a castle in the sky to think there is some consensus? And what about “rational people”? “Rational people” disagree among themselves. They cannot find any kind of unity over abortion, intervention in foreign countries, health care, welfare, or anything that has been politicized. We all agree that murder is wrong, but we refuse to prohibit the sale and use of hand guns “in the name of personal freedom.” We all agree that cigarette smoking is injurious to health, both for the smoker and the one who must breathe the smoke indirectly, but we cannot come to terms morally with prohibiting the act because it breaks down a person’s freedom. I have no faith in “rational people” being able to determine a code of ethics that is both respective of personal freedom and morally sensible.
Tragically, those who may be influencing our culture the most at the moral level are people who refuse to be engaged in a reflective discussion about how to make ethical decisions, for such reflection would expose the superficiality of their ethical decisions. It would also unmask the fear that each hides, namely, that there is no way to make ethical decisions binding for all apart from a belief in a final revelation or in a unique God. If human consensus breaks down and if human rationality will not get us there, then we will either be awash in a sea of relativity (fortunately for us, there is a cooperative sense of some things being good) or be blown by the same winds into the hands of a revealing God.
That’s exactly where Peter is—in the hands of a revealing God, whose character and words chart the course of ethics and morality.24 Ethics in a Christian context begins, oddly enough, with a belief in the depravity of humans, not their goodness. Thus, Peter says, his readers have been redeemed from a slavery to their former, empty traditions (1:18), they have been given a new life and a living hope (1:3–5), and they have been purified (1:22)—the latter two assume the opposite as a condition from which they needed deliverance: hopelessness and moral filthiness. Human beings are in need of repair, restoration, and reformation.
Peter goes on to argue that his readers have been given a new life by God, and this conviction provides the ground of morality for Christianity. Until we have been given God’s life and have partaken of God’s character (cf. 2 Peter 1:4), we have no chance of performing God’s will as he wants us to. Conversion and participation in God’s nature through conversion are the only true and enduring foundations for Christian ethics. John Murray, a brilliant theologian-ethicist, once concluded: “Remove from Scripture the transcendent holiness, righteousness, and truth of God and its ethic disintegrates.”25
As we try to move the ethics of Peter into our world, then, we must carry with us the foundations he builds upon: the nature of God, the sinfulness of humans, the need of divine revelation, and the need of salvation.26 If we urge Peter’s ethics while neglecting his foundation, we are building an edifice that will collapse. Salvation, Peter argues, is necessary in order for God’s people to live like God’s people in our world: “The redemptive process … is the only answer to the impossibility inherent in our depravity.”27 Or, as C. S. Lewis asks in his inimitable style, “What is the good of telling the ships how to steer so as to avoid collisions if, in fact, they are such crazy old tubs that they cannot be steered at all?” He continues, “You cannot make men good by law: and without good men you cannot have a good society. That is why we must go on to think of the second thing: of morality inside the individual.”28
Accordingly, the area where this passage from 1 Peter speaks most clearly to our world is in the area of ethical systems and how to make ethical decisions. Peter’s approach is theological, and the Christian who follows him will establish his or her ethical decisions on the basis of God’s nature and God’s Word.
Contemporary Significance
OUR DISCUSSION ABOVE began to show the significance of Peter’s theoretical framework for our world today. I want to continue that discussion here and then move to a related topic, the importance of living for the future and in light of that future. Living in light of God’s judgment is part of the theme of anchoring ethics in God’s nature and revealed Word because it involves a decision to live in light of God’s holy character, which forms the foundation of his final judgment.
As much as anyone in the history of American Christendom, Thomas Jefferson (who was himself merely a brilliant spokesman for a larger worldwide trend) reduced Christianity to morals, and he founded those morals on an appreciation of classical writers, the innate goodness of humans, the Creator’s implanting in humans an instinct for what is right, and the Enlightenment understanding of reason.29 Hence, Jeffersonian morals are really a reflection of a European trend toward rational ethics. His rational, or better yet instinctive, morality became the essence of liberal Protestantism that has gripped North America for the better part of this century. The following equation expresses the mood of many Western societies: A Christian is someone who is good and loving; a loving and good person is a Christian. While biblical Christianity affirms the first, it does not necessarily affirm the second. The problem with rational morality as the definition of Christianity is that the two are not distinguished.
Our concern here, however, is not with the history of American ethics or Jeffersonian ideals. Rather, our concern is with the foundation of ethics. Where do we begin when we want to state a moral good?30 To simplify greatly, ethics are either founded in ourselves (e.g., through reason, intuition, nature, moral instinct, conscience) or outside ourselves (e.g., through revelation, an established code of ethics, the Constitution). Christian orthodoxy teaches that ethics flows from salvation and that humans, by themselves, cannot discern the will of God—for personal salvation, for personal ethics, or for the social order. We know God’s will because in his grace he has made his will known to us through his revelation, the Bible being the primary mode of this revelation. The same construction applies to our knowledge of ethics: We know what is good from what is bad because God has told us in his Word, beginning with the Mosaic legislation and climaxing in the teachings of Jesus and the apostolic testimony.
Recently I zipped home from teaching to grab a round of golf in what I thought would be one of the last nice days of the year. Rarely do golf courses let someone play alone, so I assumed I would be paired with other golfers whom I did not know. The course was empty for three holes, and I caught up to two distinguished African-American gentlemen, whom I joined for the rest of the round. We made enough light talk for me to discover that one of them was a social worker and the other a pastor. After a few holes I raised the issue of the problems of inner-city violence, hoping to generate an ethical conversation: “What do you think is the solution to the problems in the inner city?” Tony, the first one to speak, said, “God’s Word! In one of the last Scriptures of the Old Testament [Mal. 4:6], it says that in the last days God will return the hearts of the fathers to their children. Unless hearts are made right,” he went on to say, “there is no hope for the inner city.” Then he made a stunning observation about our official “American policy”: “All the money and programs in the world will not change people’s hearts.”
I agreed wholeheartedly with their solution: salvation. I also agreed that commitment to salvation as central to ethical problems does not alleviate us from seeking to help people in their socially deprived conditions. Will, the other man, said quite tersely: “Don’t get me wrong. Those babies didn’t choose to come into this world, and we can’t choose to neglect them. We need welfare for those kids.” In my judgment, these two men crystallize the testimony of God’s people in the history of the church. Ethics begin with salvation, but we dare not neglect our social duties.
But what if others in society do not believe in salvation in Christ? Can we expect to stop society until it becomes Christian before we can go on profitably with ethical issues? Obviously not. But Peter knows of no foundation for proper conduct before God that does not begin with salvation and the life that comes in Christ. Precisely at this point too many Christians have compromised themselves. Ours is a pluralistic world, and this means that public discourse has to be tolerant of opposing viewpoints and alternative foundations for ethical discussions. But Christians must never pretend that the ethics of Christianity can be discovered by pure reason (as was attempted in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries) or by legislation. The proper motive for morals comes only from God’s work of grace, and a life pleasing to God finds its blueprint in the pages of the Bible. While we may have to tolerate alternate viewpoints, we must learn in our toleration not to compromise the foundation on which we stand. In our desire to be influential or to be acceptable, too frequently we have adopted the level of public discourse as the only level for ethical discussions.
Christians desire biblical ethics for society, but our society is frequently against Christian ethics. Thus, the only way we can work for Christian ethics in society is by way of the normal means of public discourse. This requires toleration. But tolerating other views does not mean accepting them (just as the materialist does not have to accept the Christian view) or permitting them to ruin the foundation of Christian ethics. We dare not be silent about our foundation, for it is a silence that can eventually lead to erosion. So let us be political, and let us be involved; but we must avoid surrendering why we do what we do.
There is no question about the historical development of public morals in America. We now know that the need to be “nonsectarian” or “nondenominational” but still broadly Christian in our public discourse eventually led to a total breakdown of the foundation itself (biblical morality). We now find public morals at low ebb, characterized by antireligious sentiments, secularism, and blanket toleration of everyone except the one who believes in divine mandates for proper conduct. The corroding effects of pluralism have not only rusted away at public morals; indeed, evangelicalism has been assaulted by the same forces in modernity.31 To resist this erosion, Christians must construct again the strong walls of theology and ethics both within the church and in interaction with our cultural world.
Another issue for Peter that emerges from this section concerns living in light of and for the future, what Peter calls hope. This hope is grounded in God’s holiness. Peter wants believers to live in light of God’s judgment, a judgment that is at the same time the Christian’s hope for vindication and justice. This judgment satisfies our desire for justice.
While hope is an ethical directive, it partakes of ethics in a different way because it manifests itself not so much in behavior as in attitude and disposition. The one who lives for the future does concrete things (like living in a loving manner), but it is the orientation that leads to a system of checks and balances with love. Those who live for the future have their eyes on the horizon rather than at their feet. Because of this, they exude an attitude about this world and its brevity. We must look further at this idea of living for the future.
Peter manifests two primary emphases in the attitude of living for the future. (1) We must live in light of God’s righteous judgment of our lives (cf. 1:17; 4:5, 17), and (2) we must live in the hope of the joy of final salvation (1:6–9; 2:23; 4:11, 19). These attitudes ought to govern the entirety of our ethical behavior. Every step we take and every move we make should be in light of what God thinks of what we are doing. This is not some form of perverse legalism, any more than my desire to please my wife, Kris, is legalism. A desire to please God is the noblest motivation in life; to reject such a desire in the name of legalism is to misunderstand our family relationship to God. This perspective on our own future ought to influence every area of life with forceful impact. I will mention three.
We ought to shape our attitude toward materialism in light of this future orientation in life. The Western world is a comfortable world, especially when compared to places like Zaire (racked now by a deadly virus) or the former Yugoslavia. And while it is proper and good for wealthy Christians to share with the rest of the world, they will still probably live in comfort. We need to look at this issue, however, from another angle. Material things, like large homes, extra cars, special video and computer equipment, involvement in sports entertainment that costs unreasonable amounts, boats, vacation homes, and special trips to exotic parts of the world, are all tempting. But the joy and delight we take in such things (I can get as excited as anyone about professional sports) can easily detract our attention from living before God in light of his final judgment and can steal any desire for the joy that can only come when our salvation is complete. We need in our materialistic culture a special grace from God to give us a desire for what lies beyond our days and our culture, and we need a new vision of just how great God’s salvation and glory will eventually be. This vision will no doubt lead us to tone down our purchases and to rearrange our schedules so that first things are first.
Understanding our present in light of God’s future will also impact how we plan our lives. In my judgment, far too many Christians waste too much time planning for a future, especially as it concerns insurances, investments, and retirement, and do not consider that future sufficiently enough in light of its contingency and God’s providence. I do not want to sound here like some curmudgeon who believes that planning for the future is wrong, for that is neither biblical nor wise. What I am pointing to is an orientation and a preoccupation. Pastors who plan their ministries in light of sure benefits or profits, leaders of institutions whose plans are subjected only to the bottom line and not to God’s will and his truth, and evangelists who think only in terms of the kinds of churches where profits are large are all guilty of the sin of planning without regard to God’s final judgment and the beauty of final salvation. Planning for our future is wise, but being preoccupied with it may well evince a lack of faith in God’s control of that future.
I have a friend who is constantly in demand to preach and teach at churches throughout the nation. He is regularly asked “what his price is.” His response is always the same. “Please,” he says, “give me an outline of what you need in the way of preaching, the kind of audience I will face, and the dates, and I will seek the face of God to see if this engagement is what God wants me to do because someday I will have to answer to him.” Then he adds, “I will take whatever you give me because I do not preach for money. I preach to announce the good news of Christ, to serve God, and to strengthen the church.” Such an attitude is one that focuses on living for the future, and it has safeguards to prevent one from making plans without regard to that future.
Finally, our health ought also to be subjected to God’s final plans for history. Several ideas come to mind. While it is not wrong to be fit and strong, some motivations for being fit are wrong. We are not immortal, and no matter how hard we work at being fit, we will still die. Some people, however, are motivated to be fit by a fear of death. Fear of death is not a Christian emotion; joy at the prospects of fellowship with God is. We ought, rather, to desire to be fit so that we can serve God (maybe longer than otherwise) better and more energetically. This puts us right back in the lap of Peter’s church. Believers in his day were suffering for their obedience to Christ, and Peter exhorts them not to worry about suffering but to live in constant expectation of God’s final vindication, just as Jesus lived (2:18–25; 3:18–22). Peter shows them how they could adopt an entirely different attitude toward suffering: to trust in God, to look forward to God’s final glory, and in the meantime to enjoy the fellowship with his people as a substitute for what they were losing in society because of their decisions to be Christians.
I conclude with a conversation I recently had with Lukas, my son, when he was fourteen years old—a conversation not unlike I have had with both of my children. We had been at a local sports event, and the vulgarity of the coach and his team was quite noticeable. When we got in the car to ride home, I raised this issue with my son and asked if he noticed. He said that he had heard the vulgarity. What was funny and entertaining to that team, and to some of the spectators, was sad to me. What I said to Lukas that day goes for more than just vulgarity but any moral decision we make: “You and I can talk any way we want. But we need to realize that someday we will stand before a holy God and will have to give a justification for how we have talked. That, in itself, ought to make us pause before we speak and to transform how we talk.” This is living in the light of the future.
In summary, therefore, Peter’s little passage of four exhortations contains strong pillars on which we can construct Christian ethics. He provides us with at least three foundations for determining whether an action is right or wrong. (1) Does it conform to the character of God? (2) Is it the natural outcome of a life that has benefited from the salvation of God? (3) Will it stand up to God’s scrutiny in that final day when he ushers us into his glorious presence?