Second Sunday of Easter

This morning the lectionary begins reading First Peter, a letter, just 105 lines long, that was written to Christians whose suffering was known to its author.

Scholars argue about who the author was but generally it’s accepted now that it was not the apostle Simon Peter, but it was written by an anonymous Roman Christian who was familiar both with Peter’s teachings and with the circular letter form that Paul popularized in his communications to congregations. Scholars also agree that it was probably written sometime after Peter and Paul’s deaths in the 60s and after the temple in Jerusalem was destroyed in 70 CE.

This letter is addressed to churches in Asia Minor, which is modern-day Turkey, to communities of Christians who were scattered throughout the world and, like the Jews of the Diaspora (di-aspera), were living as “resident aliens”, “strangers”, or “exiles.”[i]

It’s important to note that the exclusion and hostility endured by first century Christians isn’t like anything most of us will experience in a free and democratic society, but, nonetheless,
the letter challenges us to look for the places where life and faith intersect for us, and to remember who we are as people of faith, living in the hope of the resurrection this Eastertide.

Here, in this first section of his letter, the author picks up on the same language of inheritance, that Paul employs in the eighth chapter of Paul’s letter to the Romans when he writes, “we are children of God, 17 and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ…” [ii]

He declares that, by God’s great mercy, we are given “a new birth into “an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled and unfading.”[iii]

I have spoken before about how, when we are named co-heirs with Christ, we benefit from what some call the “sweet swap” in that Christ takes on all that is ours, and we in turn take on all that is his.

But here we are reminded that the cross isn’t simply a mathematical equation where we land in the black, squared up with God, or where we are declared safe by some divine umpire because of what Christ has done.

The cross does something to us, transforms us into something new.

And, in just three words, the author richly describes this new thing that God is doing for us, this precious inheritance we are given in faith in Christ:

• First it is imperishable – it won’t wither or wilt; it won’t rust out or erode; it won’t turn or decay. 
• Second, it is undefiled – pure, spotless, unblemished, pure and unstained; and, 
• Third, it is unfading – enduring, everlasting, permanent.

Often inheritances are described in terms of money and property, but they are not limited to material wealth and sometimes their worth is immeasurable.

When he died in 1974, comedian Jack Benny bequeathed the daily delivery of a single red rose to his wife for the rest of her life.

Theologian Peter Marty tells the story of another dear inheritance, recorded by a concentration camp survivor in Boston’s Holocaust Museum; the woman wrote

A childhood friend of mine once found a raspberry in the camp and carried it in her pocket all day to present that night to me on a leaf. Imagine a world in which your entire possession is one raspberry and you give it to your friend.[iv]

Still, roses and raspberries are temporal, and will not last forever. And because we have not experienced an inheritance like the one described here, too often, we succumb to the lie that God’s love for us is none of these things:

• Believing God’s love is conditional, we treat God as a scorekeeper, as if God could sour on us, if our sins are too great, or our piety too modest; 
• Believing God’s love is flawed, we blame the God who created and loves us for the suffering we inflict on each other, and the multitude of ways that we hurt each other; 
• Believing God’s love is temporary, we call God fickle (and any number of other names) when we cannot hear God speaking to us, or feel God’s presence in our lives.

The Good News this letter delivers to the struggling first-century Christians, and to us, is that even when we forget how God truly loves us, God remembers and continues to love us and remains imperishable, undefiled and unfading in his zeal for us.

Let us pray…
Risen Christ,
Lead us in rejoicing in the living hope that is ours in faith.
Fix our hearts on the inheritance you have given us,
that we would love what you command and desire what you promise,
always remembering the love of our life-giving God.
Amen.

[i] See Acts 7.
[ii] Romans 8:16-17
[iii] 1 Peter 1:4
[iv] Bartlett, David L.; Barbara Brown Bartlett. Feasting on the Word: Year A, Volume 2: Lent through Eastertide (Feasting on the Word: Year A volume) (Kindle Locations 14185-14188). Presbyterian Publishing Corporation. Kindle Edition.