Richard Davenport

May 7, 2023 – Fifth Sunday of Easter

1 Peter 2:2-10

 

For as big a fixture as St. Peter was in the Gospels, we don’t hear nearly as much from him as we do from St. Paul. Peter is quite vocal on the day of Pentecost, but we only have two of his letters and they are rather short. Still, for as short as they are, they are still very important. Peter, as one of the Twelve, was one of the leaders of the church. He and the apostles were busy building the church up in Jerusalem. Many of the apostles would eventually go on missionary journeys, but first the church needed to be safely established there at home. 

            Still, the apostles are the ones who are sent. “Apostle” means, “sent one,” and they are the ones who are first sent to spread the message of resurrection and the grace given through Christ.  The apostles also realize that they are not just sent to those dwelling in Jerusalem, or even all of Judea.  They are sent to the whole world.  When St. Paul shows up in Jerusalem, telling the Twelve he plans on going throughout the empire spreading the gospel, the apostles wholeheartedly endorse him, something the Jews of generations past would have thought pointless.  Earlier Jews thought God was only there for them, so there was no need to share the gospel with others.

            This is why St. Peter begins his letter with:  Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ, 

To those who are elect exiles of the Dispersion in Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia, according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, in the sanctification of the Spirit, for obedience to Jesus Christ and for sprinkling with his blood: 

May grace and peace be multiplied to you.

 

The exiles, the Jews of the Northern kingdom that were swept away when the Assyrians came through conquering.  With the destruction of their homeland, these Jews were scattered all over the world now. They aren’t a part of the worship life of Israel in any meaningful way and haven’t been for a long time now. Many still know of God’s promise to send a savior and are still watching and waiting for his arrival.

            There’s no doubt as to why the Assyrians originally came to town.  God makes it abundantly clear.  The people had forsaken God.  Despite the numerous prophets God sent to them, the many times he called them to turn back and repent, despite the various consequences that fell on them because they had rejected their covenant with him, God continued to be patient. That is, until his patience finally ran out.  The covenant between God and his people stipulated that if the people persisted long enough in rejecting him, eventually the end would come and they would all be swept away.  God explains it to them, so there can be no mistake and there is no chance of foisting blame on him as if he were somehow being unjust.

            These people had problems.  They were seen as the outcasts.  They were the ones who had been rejected, as St. Peter calls them, the exiles.  These were people who had been cut off from their inheritance in God’s kingdom. Granted, it was entirely their own fault they had been scattered to the four corners of the globe by the Assyrians, but still, it’s understandable why someone like that might be a little depressed to think about what he’s lost.

            That’s usually the way it goes.  You don’t realize how good you’ve got it until you’ve lost it.  God’s promise to them had no fixed end date.  We know, in the big picture, that God knew they wouldn’t hold to it, but that doesn’t mean God wasn’t prepared to uphold his end of the bargain in perpetuity. The plan was always for the savior to come and redeem his people wherever they are, all the faithful gathered together under one banner.  One shepherd and one flock. 

            But those in exile don’t really understand all of that.  From their perspective, there isn’t much more to say or do.  They as a people have suffered the consequences of their actions and now lie outside of God’s promise.  The actions of their past have condemned their future.  They were God’s treasured possession, that’s what he called them.  He chose them specifically.  He blessed them well above and beyond what anyone had any right to expect.  He even gave them a special task.  They were to be the mediators.  They had the privilege of standing before him and offering prayers to him.  They worshipped in his presence. 

And now they’ve lost all of that.  They’ve lost everything that made them special and there’s nothing they can do about it.  It’s not like they can just come back to town and expect to be accepted, as if nothing had ever happened.  They couldn’t deny what they had done and that they were justly suffering the consequences of their actions.

Suffering the consequences of our actions.  Being cut off from others.  Being cut off from God.  Living knowing what you have done and that you deserve everything that’s coming to you.  Knowing what you have lost because of what you’ve done.  You started getting a little heavier in your drinking, maybe just to be social, maybe to help you cope with stress or grief, but over time you became intolerable as you lost control of yourself.  Now no one wants to be around you.  You turned a blind eye to a friend in need when you could have easily helped.  Word got out and now you’ve lost your circle of friends.  Somewhere you chose money over loved ones, personal comfort over the needs of friends, what you wanted to do over what you should do, and for that, you suffered the consequences. 

You may be looking ahead, trying to put the past behind you.  But it never truly is.  What you’ve done is still there.  It has affected your life and everyone who knows about it will remember what you’ve done. It will forever color their perception of you.  And when you speak up at some point and say, “I should be able to enjoy myself.  I should be able to do the things I want to do,” your past transgressions will be brought up.  No, doing what you want to do is the very thing that got you in trouble in the first place.  It’s what wrecked your marriage, lost you your job.  It’s what made your kids not want to talk to you anymore.  Your past dictates your present and your future.

Yet, St. Peter is writing to those in exile.  He’s using the same words God has always used for his people.  They may not be Israelites anymore, but they are a chosen race.  They may not be there at his temple, but they are priests nonetheless.  They may be scattered throughout the world, living in pagan nations, but they are holy, set apart, special.  They may have done terrible things, but they are still claimed by him as his treasured possession. 

It is in Christ that they are restored.  It is in Christ that we are restored.  We who have abandoned our roles, ignored what was needed of us, we have all become disconnected, bricks that used to be a wall, but now are scattered across the field.  The bricks may give way.  The wall may fall down, but the foundation is and always remains solid.  The cornerstone cannot be shaken.  Christ cannot be toppled or ruined.

If you’re reading Peter’s letter closely, you’ll see him make an interesting point.  “As you come to him, a living stone rejected by men but in the sight of God chosen and precious, you yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.” He doesn’t say, “you were built,” or even “you are built,” but rather, “you are being built.”  An ongoing activity.  God is taking where you are in the present and moving you toward something in the future.  God has already taken you, from wherever you were and whatever you had done, and called you his people again.  He has taken people who deserved nothing but punishment and given them mercy.

A contractor who is building a house begins with the raw materials, the lumber, the steel, the pipes, wiring, and all the rest. He has the blueprints.  He knows what the house will look like when it’s done. He keeps working at it, day after day, until it is completed.  The house may not be done just yet, but he can picture it in his mind because all of the details are there in front of him.  Where every one else sees just a pile of lumber and pipes, the contractor sees a house that just isn’t built yet.

We were unworthy of being a part of God’s grand creation.  We were unwilling to do the job and so we were rejected, like all of those who have gone before us.  God knows where we have all come from.  He knows what lies in our past.  He sees how badly we have warped and twisted by our actions.  He sees how we have rejected the calling to lives for ours and have turned our attention inward, living only for ourselves.  We’ve become completely unsuited for building. 

But, in Christ, our past is washed away.  The baptismal waters erase everything that has come before.  We are made new and repurposed for God’s work.  Your past may be a sordid tale of broken relationships, anger, and grief, of bad life choices that have left you beaten and empty, with no way to move on.  None of that matters now.  God is remaking you.  Whoever you were and whatever you’ve done before is no longer seen or known. You are being built on Christ, a solid and unshakeable foundation.  In him, you are once again made holy.  You are once again able to enter into the presence of God and lift up the prayers and praises of the world to him.  In him, you are once again God’s treasured possession.

But, you still have doubts.  The work isn’t finished yet.  You look around and still see the fallen world.  You still find yourself at odds with God, arguing with him about his direction and purpose for your life.  When you realize the damage you are continuing to cause and come to God for forgiveness, he restores you once again and sets you to work.  But this continues to happen, day after day. We rebel against our lot and place in life and need grace and restoration.  We don’t see the finished construction taking shape around us.  The world looks as grim as it always has. Our lives are as filled with anger and grief as they always were.  How do we know what this is all about?

That’s when God says, “Let me show you what I see. Let me show you what you’re looking forward to.”  That’s when he brings you here to the table.  He brings you here together to where Christ is the cornerstone.  He brings you all together as one.  One people with no divisions.  His treasured possession gathered together in front of him. Where on your own you were warped and twisted, consumed with your own self interested drive for pleasure and gain. Here each serves the other.  Here each of us strengthens and support those next to us and we in turn are built up by them.  All of this resting on Christ, the one who gave himself for us so that all of this would be possible.  Here you see it before it happens.  Here you see what you are looking forward to, the future brought to life.  The future made real. 

Now you know a bit of what awaits you.  You see what your place will be.  God will take this brief moment spent as one and extend it to eternity.  A perfect building, a perfect people, a holy people whose lives are dedicated to declaring his excellencies.  A people he has claimed as his own.