“Living In a Far From Perfect World” (1 Peter 2:18-25)

I suspect that a number of you have heard the old story of the young man who was desperately seeking God’s guidance for some crucial issue in his life. For some reason he decided that the best way forward might be simply to allow his Bible to fall open randomly and then follow the wisdom of whatever verse his eyes first fell upon.

So he let his Bible fall open. And much to his alarm the verse staring up at him was Matthew 27:5, where he read these words: “And throwing down the pieces of silver into the temple, he departed, and he went and hanged himself.” Well that certainly didn’t appeal to him, so he decided to try again. This time he came to Luke 10:37 – “You go, and do likewise.” Well, he thought to himself, maybe it’s third time lucky. So he riffled through the pages once more and what did his eyes land upon, but John 13:27 – “What you are going to do, do quickly.”

You don’t have to laugh, but I just wanted to illustrate a maxim that was drilled into me early in my Christian life by some of my fellow students in our Christian fellowship at university. It goes like this: A text without a context is a pretext.

I could name any number of clips from the Bible that have been misused because they have been quoted without any regard for the context in which they were originally written. And I confess to my shame that I am guilty of having done it on more than one occasion myself. But I say all of this because this morning we have come to a passage that has been one of the most egregiously misinterpreted in all of Scripture. And if you haven’t guessed it already, it is Peter’s words about slavery.

A couple of weeks ago in my own personal quiet time I was reading through Ephesians. There the apostle Paul also addresses slaves, and in terms not all that different from what we have read from Peter this morning. I must say that I was tremendously grateful for what the commentator had written in my study guide. He gave this warning: “This text should not be misused either to downplay the evil of slavery or, as has historically been the case, to support its horrors.”[1] A text without a context is a pretext.

The Sorrow of Injustice

So it is this morning that we find Peter addressing “servants” and calling upon them to be subject to their masters with all respect. The word translated “servants” in our Bibles in the original is oiketes. My Greek lectionary translates that term as a domestic or a house slave, or simply a slave. And in fact that is how the majority of contemporary English translations render this word: “slave”.

But whether the word means “servant” or “slave” is not the issue. The real tragedy is that passages like this, which can be found in both the Old and the New Testaments, have been used as a justification for slavery.

No less a figure than George Whitefield, who with Jonathan Edwards was one of the leaders of the First Great Awakening—that remarkable revival that swept across what is now the eastern United States in the early eighteenth century—was a leading proponent of slavery. As was Charles Hodge, principal of Princeton Theological Seminary and recognized as one of the greatest evangelical theologians of the nineteenth century. In fact, just a year before the outbreak of the American Civil War, Hodge could write in categorical terms, “If the present course of the abolitionists is right, then the course of Christ and the apostles was wrong.”[2]

But to go back to my daily devotional reading, here is more of what the author had to say:

Many times I have heard it said that the best way to understand [the Bible’s] words about slavery is to think about the modern workplace, so that the text becomes about respecting your boss … In the ancient world, slavery was common, as being employed is common today, but to compare the two in any way beyond this is wrong. Slavery meant you were owned by someone else, that your body was not yours and that you were not able to decide for yourself.

So what are we to take away from these words from Scripture? How are we to understand and apply them to our lives and in our world today?

First of all, we must remember that neither Peter nor the slaves to whom he wrote were in a position to do anything about their slavery. Although it had occurred a century and a half before, everybody knew about the revolt of 120,000 slaves that after a three-year struggle had been brutally put down by the Roman army. Of those who were not slaughtered in the conflict, more than 6,000 were crucified along the Appian Way.

Besides that, we need to recognize that you and I are in a position of privilege. We may face difficult circumstances at work—unreasonable bosses, excessive hours, dangerous conditions, the pressure to compromise our integrity, or a host of other unfavourable conditions, but the fact remains that we aren’t slaves.

Yet estimates are that there are well in excess of forty million men, women and children who are living in some form of enslavement in our world today—whether in forced labour on farms, in mines and in factories, in forced marriages, through child labour, through forced sexual exploitation or in still other variations. Think of it for a moment. Forty million: that’s the population of Canada. And the fact is that you and I benefit from their labours through the inexpensive produce and manufactured goods that are at our fingertips every day.

I am grateful to Jo Hockley, who a couple of weeks ago pointed me to a website called “Slavery Footprint”. I took their survey and discovered that by a conservative estimate my lifestyle depends on the labour of at least forty-eight slaves. Those slaves are invisible to me because they are working (or perhaps I should say overworked) often in dangerous and unhealthy conditions in mines and fields and sweatshops thousands of miles away. What is the solution to this? I confess that the problem is far too complex for me to make any recommendations, except at the very least to make ourselves aware of the extent of slavery still present in our world today and to be careful about what we purchase. And if you’d like some help with that, the website endslaverynow.org has 429 useful suggestions for you!

And let us not forget that we follow the one anointed by the Spirit of the Lord “to proclaim good news to the poor…, to proclaim liberty to the captives…, to set at liberty those who are oppressed…” (Luke 4:18)

The Suffering of Christ

So how are we to understand those words of Peter to slaves? The answer is to try to comprehend them not only in their historical context but equally, if not more importantly, in their biblical context. And that context is found in words that Peter would certainly have heard from Jesus himself: “But I say to you who hear, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. To one who strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also, and from one who takes away your cloak do not withhold your tunic  either… And as you wish that others would do to you, do so to them.” (Luke 6:27-28,31)

Peter had witnessed that lesson dramatically put into action by Jesus himself in the Garden of Gethsemane on the night before his crucifixion. You will remember how, when the soldiers had come to arrest Jesus, Peter drew out a sword in an attempt at bravado and slashed off the high priest’s servant’s ear—only to be met by Jesus’ stern rebuke, “Put your sword in its place, for all who take the sword will perish by the sword.” (John 18:10-11) At which point Jesus touched the servant’s ear and healed him.

Perhaps it shouldn’t surprise us, then, that at this point Peter’s thoughts turn to what took place on the day that followed. As he looked back across the space of a generation or more, I suspect that the events of that grim and fateful day were as clear in Peter’s mind as when they had first occurred. The heckling of the passers-by would still have echoed in his ears. He could still see the sadistic grins on the faces of the soldiers. And he could still feel the tears that trickled down the faces of Mary and the other women—and down his own too. And above it all he could hear the parched voice that cried out, “Father, forgive them…”

So we shouldn’t be too surprised when a generation later we find Peter writing, “For this is a gracious thing, when, mindful of God, one endures sorrows while suffering unjustly.” It is not an easy lesson to absorb, because it is counterintuitive. It goes against all our grain. It turns our natural sense of justice on its head. Yet it is the repeated experience of generation upon generation of Christian believers from Peter’s time right through to our own—somehow to meet abuse with grace, anger with gentleness, nastiness with love. I’m not going to say that people are necessarily going to change as a result (although perhaps by God’s grace some will), but regardless of their reaction we will be radiating the sweet aroma of Jesus.

The Sacrifice that Transforms Us

It was only later, during those forty days between Jesus’ resurrection and ascension, that Peter began to realize that Jesus’ suffering on the cross was more than just a terrible miscarriage of justice. Luke tells us it was then that Jesus “opened their minds to understand the Scriptures, and said to them, ‘Thus it is written, that the Christ should suffer and on the third day rise from the dead, and that repentance for the forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in his name to all nations…’” (Luke 24:44-47)

So it was that in the space of a short seven weeks later Peter would be proclaiming, “Let all the house of Israel … know for certain that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified… Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins…” (Acts 2:36,38) And so it is that we read this morning, “He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed.”

It was at Calvary that Jesus took all the suffering, all the injustice, all the cruelty and evil of the world upon himself. And the power and effects of that sacrifice reach across the whole sweep of eternity to touch not only Peter and his readers but the likes of you and me today. The cross of Christ tells us like nothing else that you and I are loved—loved by none less than the God of the universe and of all eternity, and loved to the point where he would give his own Son to restore our relationship with him.

The cross frees us from the burden of thinking that somehow we need to earn our way into God’s good books (which is something we could never do in the first place). For through his cross Jesus has nullified both the curse and the power of sin over our lives.

When Jesus uttered those words, “It is finished,” we are told that the thick veil of the Temple was torn in two from top to bottom. It was a dramatic sign that the wall that our sins and waywardness had erected between us and God was demolished. The Good Shepherd had reclaimed his straying sheep to bring them home.

Well, that’s the big context of our passage this morning. May it cause us to rejoice in the freedom that we enjoy in our society, to pray and advocate and do what we can for those who still live in bondage today—and never to underestimate the price that Jesus has paid for your and my eternal freedom and for theirs.

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[1]     David Horsfall, “It is Not About Your Boss”, Ephesians 6:1-9, Scripture Union Encounter With God, 5 March 2024

[2]     Darius Jankiewicz, “Hermeneutics of Slavery”

“The Freedom of Obedience” (Romans 6:15-23)

I want you to take a moment to try to form a picture in your mind. We are looking down to the narrow pass that separates the twin slopes of Mount Gerizim and Mount Ebal in Palestine. There beneath us is a vast crowd of the Israelite people. They have gathered at the behest of their mighty leader, Joshua, who has led them into victory after victory as they have laid claim to the land which God had promised them through Abraham centuries before. Now the battles are over. One by one the fortress cities of the Canaanite people have been conquered and the Israelites can look forward to peace in their land.

No longer the powerful young warrior that he once was, nevertheless there is still a commanding power in Joshua’s voice. The nation, he tells them, has come to a crossroads. They are free to settle in the land that God has given them. However, now they must make a choice. Will they worship the Lord and serve him in faithfulness? Or will they turn to the false gods of their ancestors? “If serving the Lord seems undesirable to you,” Joshua calls out to them, “then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve…” From the depths of the valley a mighty roar rings forth. “We will serve the Lord,” the people cry, “because he is our God.”

As the noise subsides, Joshua speaks again. “You are not able to serve the Lord,” he protests. “He is a holy God; he is a jealous God.” But again the unanimous cry thunders forth: “No! We will serve the Lord.” Again Joshua waits for silence and speaks. “You are witnesses against yourselves,” he warns them, “that you have chosen to serve the Lord.” A third time the cry echoes down through the valley, “We will serve the Lord our God and obey him.”

In the lives of all of us there are certain defining moments, moments that set the course for much of our future lives. The moment you earned your very first dime; the moment you left home to live in independence from your parents; the moment you said, “I will…” These are some of the defining moments in our lives. And this was such a moment for the nation of Israel.

Another defining moment has occurred at St Paul’s Church this morning. Today in the sacrament of baptism three people, two infants (through their adult sponsors) and one adult, have expressed their faith in the Lord Jesus Christ and their desire to follow and serve him. In the washing of water they have visibly demonstrated their wish to die to sin, evil and injustice and to share in the life of Christ.

Baptism is a visible sign of what it means to become a Christian. It is a defining moment in life. As the people of Israel did at Shechem, we are saying, “We will worship the Lord our God and him only will we serve.” But what does this mean? Is what we are talking about a mere symbolic act, a matter of words? In response to this kind of thinking, in verse 2 of chapter 6 and in the opening verse of this morning’s passage from Romans, Paul uses an expression which we find from time to time in his letters. Our New International Version Bibles translate it, “By no means!” In Greek it is me genoito, which the King James Bible translates, “God forbid!” Perhaps the best way of rendering it today might be, “No way!” And so to those who would argue that becoming a Christian doesn’t make any difference to the kind of people we are, Paul responds, “No way!” To those who would want us to think that faith in Christ has no impact on our daily lives, he replies, “No way!” Then in the verses that follow he goes on to explain his answer.

Two kinds of slavery

For his explanation he uses the image of slavery. In the Roman world of Paul’s day there were sixty million slaves, and there can be no doubt that among those who first read his letter in Rome there were some who were themselves slaves. William Barclay gives us some idea of how masters could abuse their slaves the first century:

Pliny tells how Vedius Pollio treated a slave. The slave was carrying a tray of crystal goblets into the courtyard; he dropped and broke one; on the instant Pollio ordered him to be thrown into the fishpond in the middle of the court, where the savage lampreys tore him to pieces.[1]

In truth few masters ever displayed such cruelty to their slaves. In some cases slaves were better educated than their masters, had positions of great trust in the household and were treated with respect. But suppose, Paul suggests to us, you were the slave of a master such as Vedius Pollio and his lot, who treated you with cruelty and contempt from sunrise to sunset every day of your life. Then suppose you had the opportunity to come into the service of a master who was fair and kind, who graciously looked after your needs and treated you only with dignity and respect. Would you choose to go back to your former master? Me genoito! God forbid! No way!

This, says Paul, is exactly what the Christian life is all about. We can be slaves to sin. Or we can be set free from sin to be slaves to God. The choice is ours, and each has its consequences.

Slavery to sin

To be a slave to sin is to be trapped in a downward spiral. Paul uses three words to describe what is involved. The first of them is “impurity” in verse 19. For the ancient Jews impurity or uncleanness was a technical term. It had to do with one’s fitness to join in the religious observances of the nation. If you had a certain type of skin disease or had been in contact with a dead body or if you were a woman in her period or had recently given birth, you were considered “unclean”. But in the New Testament Jesus turns that around.

Nothing outside a person can make that person ‘unclean’ by going into him. Rather, it is what comes out of a person that makes him ‘unclean’. … For from within, out of people’s hearts, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice, deceit, lewdness, envy, slander, arrogance and folly. All these evils come from inside and make a man ‘unclean’ (Mark 7:15,21-23).

What the Bible is saying, then, is that to be a slave of sin means that we become tainted inside, in the realm of our hearts and minds. We do things that we know are wrong because “Everyone else does it, so why shouldn’t I?” We secretly gloat over our fellow workers’ failures because somehow we think it makes us look better. We embroider the truth a little bit when we talk about others, just to give the story a little more spice. This is the kind of thing the Bible means when it speaks about impurity. It is the direct consequence of being in slavery to sin—to all the negative forces in our lives—and the list could go on and on. But Paul has more to say.

Impurity is not the only consequence of our enslavement to sin. Paul goes on to speak about “ever-increasing wickedness”. In Greek the expression means something like “lawlessness which leads only to further lawlessness”. The actual word Paul uses is anomia, which some of us might recognize in the French word anomie. Anomie is a word we hear today to describe the spiritual decadence which is undermining our society inch by inch. We become inured to the outrageously violent words of rap music which pollute our young people’s minds and ears with thoughts about breaking women’s backbones and forcing fellatio on them till they puke, or perhaps even defend it as artistic expression. We criticize governments that move to limit child pornography on the Internet in the name of free speech. We worship athletes and pop stars who leap into bed with literally hundreds of sex partners.

The outcome of such lawlessness can only be anarchy and the general collapse of our society as we know it—and finally the ultimate decay, which is death itself. The progression is easy to follow. Bondage to the forces of sin taints and distorts or inner being. This impurity of heart and mind inevitably leads on a social level to lawlessness and decadence. And that in turn delivers us to that state of being (or non-being) which we call death, where life has been sapped of all of its God-given beauty and meaning. It is a tragic picture.

Freedom in Christ

Right beside it, however, Paul gives us another picture, an altogether different one. The picture this time is not slavery to sin, but slavery to God and to Christ (which, ironically, the Bible tells us, is true freedom). The contrast between the two forms of slavery is total. As with slavery to sin which leads to impurity, lawlessness and death, slavery to Christ also brings with it three consequences.

The first of these, says Paul, is righteousness. We come across this word and its cognates at least fifty-five times in the letter to the Romans, so it is important to understand what Paul means. Essentially, when the Bible speaks of righteousness, what it is talking about is right relationships, living in harmony with God and with our fellow human beings. To be Christ’s willing slave means placing myself in obedience to him. And his first two commands are these: You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, soul and strength; and you shall love your neighbour as yourself. This is what righteousness means in practical terms. So it is that we ask in the service of baptism:

Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbour as yourself?

Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?

To which the candidates reply, “I will…” In doing so, they commit themselves to living a life of righteousness.

Paul tells us at the end of verse 19 that righteousness leads to holiness. Here I would prefer to use the old word “sanctification”, for what Paul is describing is not a final state, but an ongoing process. “Sanctification” may be even less understood than “holiness”. But what we are talking about is a path, along which as we travel it, we become increasingly infused with the character of God.

From time to time we may see a sunset whose grandeur reflects the glory of God. We may look at the delicate petals of a flower and be reminded of the magnificence and intricacy of God’s creation. How wonderful it would be if people could look at you and me and in us see something of the beauty of God’s nature! When we are enlisted in the service of Christ, that most certainly is the goal that he has set for us. We are embarking on a journey, whose destination is to become more and more like him. “Dear friends,” wrote St John, “now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when he appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is” (1 John 3:2).

To some this path of righteousness and holiness seems dreary and restrictive—and all too often because we Christians have done our best to make it appear so! In reality to give ourselves in Christ in this way is to discover life, life as it was meant to be, life, as Jesus promises, in all its fullness.

To bring ourselves back to where we began: Like the people of Israel at Shechem you and I stand at a defining moment. The words of Joshua ring in our ears, “Choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve.” Will we be slaves to our own selfish desires, or will we be slaves to Christ, “whose service is perfect freedom”?

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[1]           William Barclay, The Letters of Timothy, Titus and Philemon, 270