12-06-09 The Living And The Dead Pt. 2

Our study of 1^st Peter has brought us to the first 6 verses of chapter 4,

a passage in which Peter once again moves us into some fascinating truths.

We started this passage last week,

but only made it part way through it before our time ran out

so I want us to pick up our study right where we left off last week.

I’ll read the passage for us once again

and then we’ll see if we can make some more progress

in understanding what Peter is saying and why.

1PE 4:1-6 Therefore, since Christ has suffered in the flesh, arm yourselves also with the same purpose, because he who has suffered in the flesh has ceased from sin, so as to live the rest of the time in the flesh no longer for the lusts of men, but for the will of God. For the time already past is sufficient for you to have carried out the desire of the Gentiles, having pursued a course of sensuality, lusts, drunkenness, carousing, drinking parties and abominable idolatries. In all this, they are surprised that you do not run with them into the same excesses of dissipation, and they malign you; but they will give account to Him who is ready to judge the living and the dead. For the gospel has for this purpose been preached even to those who are dead, that though they are judged in the flesh as men, they may live in the spirit according to the will of God.

OK, last week we spent most of our time

looking at the tension that exists within the Christian

between the life of the Spirit of God within us

and the flesh-driven goals and desires that war against our life in Christ.

We talked about the absolute victory that Christ won over Satan

because of what He accomplished on the cross,

the way He stripped the enemy of all of those weapons he used to attack us.

But then we also went on to look at the strategy Satan now uses

as he continues his attack against us

through the lies he reinforces in our lives,

lies designed to convince us

that our sin still stands between us and our Creator,

or that He has called us to serve Him through the gifts and talents of the flesh,

or that what He says and what He does in our life simply cannot be trusted.

All Satan has to work with are lies,

but because those lies are so strongly supported

both by our own past life without our Lord

and by the world system around us,

breaking their power over us is no easy task.

And in this passage

Peter talks with us about a process that he went through himself,

a process in which he suffered death in the flesh

and through that dying process

found tremendous freedom from the lies that Satan was using in his life.

We saw last week

that in this passage

Peter draws a comparison between Christ and us,

talking about how Christ suffered death in the flesh

and through that death conquered evil,

and how we should arm ourselves with the same purpose.

1PE 4:1-2 Therefore, since Christ has suffered in the flesh, arm yourselves also with the same purpose, because he who has suffered in the flesh has ceased from sin, so as to live the rest of the time in the flesh no longer for the lusts of men, but for the will of God.

And the great thing with Peter’s writings

is that we also have an in-depth account of his personal history

so that we can see his teaching vividly illustrated through his own life.

And because this principle is so critical to our own growth,

I want us to take the rest of our time this morning

to look closely at that point in Peter’s life

when he experienced death in the flesh,

and then to look at how it applies to our own lives.

And the best way I know of for doing this

is for me to share with you that portion from The Fisherman

that describes that event.

It’s a fairly long passage,

but I want to read it because there is no better way

for us to make sense of this passage we’re studying

than for us to see it illustrated in Peter’s life.

OK, I mentioned last week

that Peter spent his entire life with Christ prior to the crucifixion

attempting to live his relationship with his Lord

through the strength of the flesh.

And that was true right up to the night of Christ’s arrest,

the arrest that lead within a few hours to His execution.

The events of that entire night work as a unit in Peter’s life,

with each event building on the next.

We’re not going to take the time to go through them all in detail,

but the account is familiar enough to most of you

so that I’ll just remind you of what happened before we drop into the story.

You’ll remember that Christ met with His disciples that evening

for one last supper.

It was the Passover Supper,

the annual celebration of that night so many years earlier

when the Israelites were in slavery in Egypt

and God brought one final plague on the nation to force Pharaoh to let them go,

the plague in which the first born of every family was killed.

But God passed over those houses where He saw the blood of a lamb above the door.

It was a powerful historical illustration of Christ Himself,

and it was that feast that they shared together that night.

During their time together

a dispute broke out between the disciples

in which they once again starting fighting over which of them was the greatest.

Jesus broke up the battle by telling them

that the true test of greatness in His kingdom

is measured by their service to one another.

Peter responded by assuring the Master

that he was ready to go both to prison and to death for Jesus,

to which Jesus said, (Luke 22:34), "I say to you, Peter, the rooster will not crow today until you have denied three times that you know Me."

From there they then all went together to a secluded garden,

all, that is, except for Judas who had gone to tell the Jewish leaders

where they could find and arrest Jesus.

Jesus then spent some time praying,

asking Peter, James, and John to keep Him company.

It was at that point that Peter’s flesh-based walk with the King began to crumble.

As Jesus prayed,

Peter fell asleep.

Several times the Lord woke him,

and each time he once again dozed off.

The last time he woke

it was to the sound of a small army

coming to arrest Jesus.

Peter sprang to his feet, pulled out a sword he’d hidden under his cloak,

and attempted to kill the leader of the group

but only succeeded in cutting off a servant’s ear.

Jesus was bound and taken away

and Peter, in fear and defeat, hid in the shadows.

From there he and John followed the Master at a distance

and eventually were able to gain access to the inner courtyard where Jesus’ mock trial was taking place,

but not without Peter twice being asked if he was one of Jesus’ disciples,

and twice denying it.

And from there we’ll pick up the account from the pages of The Fisherman

and listen to Peter describe what happened next.

I located John in the crowd and stood at his side. We could hear everything being said, and my height gave me a clear view of Jesus and his accusers. For some considerable time we stood there, watching, listening, discussing quietly between ourselves, as witness after witness brought lies against the Master. It was obvious what they wanted. Somehow, somewhere they would find “legal” grounds for executing their prisoner.

After more than an hour, as we stood there in helpless agony, I suddenly felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to face a man who appeared to be wrestling with some intense emotion.

“Didn’t I see you in the garden with him?” His accusation caused all those in our immediate area to turn and look at me.

At first I tried to make my denial sound casual and disarming. “No, of course not. Don’t be ridiculous!”

“No, you’re lying! That was my brother’s ear you cut off. Your Galilean speech gives you away.” Then he turned to those around us and said, “This man was with him! He’s a Galilean, too.”

The explosion that erupted from within me burst forth with such violence that it caused even the high priest himself to stop mid-sentence and look in my direction. “Listen, you little fool! I don’t know that man, and I never have!” As I spoke, I stretched out my arm in Jesus’ direction and punctuated my words with a jabbing index finger. “I have nothing to do with him, do you understand? I don’t know him. I don’t want to know him. I couldn’t care less what happens to him. He’s no friend of mine, and I assure you that I’m no friend of his!” And then, just so there could be no misunderstanding, I finished my tirade with a string of profanity intended to make it clear to all that I shared nothing in common with this Galilean rabbi on trial for his life a few feet from where we stood.

I didn’t realize I had been screaming until I heard the silence in the courtyard that followed. No one spoke. No one moved. I became aware of my arm, still suspended in midair, aimed at Jesus. The sound that finally shattered the oppressive stillness in which I stood was the sound that also marked the end of my life as I had known it. Somewhere in the distance a lone rooster crowed his declaration of an approaching dawn and at the same time announced my entrance into the darkest night of my life.

“This very night, before a rooster crows, you will deny me three times.” Jesus’ words surged into my consciousness.

I turned toward Jesus. Our eyes met, and in that meeting at last I saw myself. There was no hiding place left for me. So this was the great Simon Peter. This was the great leader of men. This was the great defender and guardian of the king.

Tears flooded up from deep within me. Agonizing sobs broke through my lips. Through blurred vision I shoved my way past those who blocked my exit and fled into the darkened street. I ran until at last I found some ancient, deserted alleyway, a place reserved for the filth and refuse of the city. Several curious rats squeaked their concern at my intrusion. It seemed a fitting place in which to live out the remainder of my existence—just another piece of worthless garbage in among the rest.

I sobbed my anguish until I could sob no more. Then at last I slept and in that sleep entered the only world in which I knew I could ever again find some measure of peace.

I don’t know what woke me. Perhaps it was the growing stench of the surrounding filth as it warmed in the morning sun. Perhaps it was the increasing noise from the street at the end of the alley. I do know, however, that the world to which I returned was unlike any I had ever known before. It wasn’t the filth. It wasn’t the odor. It wasn’t the noise. It was something else altogether, something deep within me, at the very core of my being.

Simon was dead. My heart continued to beat. My lungs continued their endless expansion and contraction. My senses continued to relay information to my brain. But whereas once there had been hope and life and aspirations and desires and a purpose for being, now there was only pain and shame and emptiness and death.

It was far more than simply regret for my failures or anxiety over the fate of my Master. Regret I understood. Failure I understood. Anxiety I understood. This was none of these. There was simply no longer any life within me.

Each of us constructs our lives on beliefs we accept as unshakable. These beliefs form the great support pillars of our existence, pillars on which everything else is built. We rarely or perhaps never acknowledge their existence in our conscious minds. Yet every choice we make, every word we utter, every goal we hold for the future, assumes their certainty.

For me, the greatest of those pillars, the one upon which all the others depended, the one rooted in the deepest core of my being, was the understanding that Simon Barjona would always ultimately prevail. If I tried hard enough, if I worked long enough, if I learned from my mistakes, if I regrouped following my failures, I could and I would succeed. This was not simply something I hoped for; it was the foundation of my life.

When this man, this Jesus, entered my world almost four years earlier, he brought massive changes with him. When I finally submitted to his lordship, he became my reason for being. His goals became my goals. His successes became my successes. His techniques became my techniques. His affirmations became my greatest joys, and his reprimands pierced me deeply. In a word, he became the center of my world.

But even though I had forsaken all and followed him, the central pillar of my life was still undisturbed. My goals were different. My techniques were different. My hopes were different. My reason for living was changed. But the means by which I pursued all of these remained unaltered. Whereas once my determination, my strength, my wit, my charisma, indeed, all my fleshly attributes had been focused on becoming Simon the great fisherman, through Jesus all those fleshly attributes had been refocused on becoming Simon the great disciple. The goals were radically different, but the means were identical—me.

Then, in one terrifying instant, at the very moment when he knew all my weight rested upon it, Jesus reached his almighty arms around that pillar and wrenched it out from under me, and everything that rested upon it came crashing down. Now there was only the shattered ruins of my existence surrounding a cold, black, gaping chasm where once my pillar had been.

If you have ever been there, you will understand. It wasn’t just that I had failed. Failure I understood. Failure was simply a call to try harder and reach higher. This was not failure; this was death. The foundation of my life had collapsed, and now my spirit wandered aimlessly through the piles of rubble, through the broken bricks and crumpled mortar, listening to the wind whistling through the ruins of my life.

OK, now that does not complete the picture,

but it lays the foundation for it.

Peter is talking with us about a dying process

in which the human ego is crushed -

not in a way that destroys our sense of worth or value ... never that,

but in a way that forces us to the terrifying recognition

that whatever it is that God seeks to do through us we cannot do,

whatever it is He seeks to do in us we cannot do,

and no amount of talent, or determination, or charisma, or intelligence, or creativity

can ever equip us to work the works of God.

It is the discovery

that all of those things that give us status and success in our human relationships

are utterly powerless to give us any standing or any success or any significance with our God.

Now, I just mentioned that this account I read of Peter’s death was only part of the picture.

It is a picture that was not completed

until three days later

when he stood once again before His Master

and discovered to his amazement that this Jesus whom he had denied so publicly,

this Jesus whom he had failed so utterly STILL LOVED HIM DEEPLY.

And, in fact, His Lord had never expected Peter to pull it off

because when it comes to life with God the flesh profits nothing.

But with most of us

we cannot see that,

we cannot accept it,

we cannot let go of the flesh foundation in our life

until we have placed all of our weight upon it

and it has failed us when it mattered the most.

Therefore, since Christ has suffered in the flesh, arm yourselves also with the same purpose, because he who has suffered in the flesh has ceased from sin, so as to live the rest of the time in the flesh no longer for the lusts of men, but for the will of God.

And let me point out the obvious,

that Peter is telling us

that there is a dying process God’s Spirit seeks to lead us through,

a dying process that truly does break the power of our flesh-based techniques

for meeting our own needs.

He is not telling us that we reach a point where we never ever sin again,

but he is telling us that we can enter into a walk with our King

in which the those sin-based motivations that formed the foundation of our life

cease to have the power they once had to dictate our choices.

We see the sin for what it is,

we see the flesh for what it is,

and even though it still screams at us at times,

we place no confidence in it.

We’ve seen it for what it is.

Which then brings us to the really big question,

what can we do to kill the flesh?

Nothing, because the flesh never ever commits suicide.

The flesh cannot and will not kill itself.

Then how do we get there?

I haven’t got a clue,

and to be honest I don’t think Peter does either.

Certainly he gives us some guidance in what we can do.

He tells us that we are to arm yourselves also with this same purpose...

That isn’t an action,

it’s an attitude,

and one that will help with the process.

It’s an attitude that I believe grows out of our recognizing and accepting the true goals our God offers us.

You know what the flesh will do, of course,

it will choose goals it can pursue under it’s own power -

goals that can be achieved through the emotional manipulation of others.

It is the way of religion,

and the flesh does well with it.

But if we choose the goals given to us by our God

it will affect us very differently.

Paul tells us what some of them are in 1^st Timothy 1:5.

1TI 1:5 But the goal of our instruction is love from a pure heart and a good conscience and a sincere faith.

Real, growing, pure love relationships with the people in our lives,

a good conscience that comes from a life built on our hunger for moral purity and integrity,

and practical daily trust in our Lord and in His life through us...

You know what those goals do for us, don’t you?

They make us feel desperate

because the more aggressively we pursue them,

the more overwhelmed we become with our absolute inability to achieve them.

Those goals bring us to the place where we cry out to our God,

“Unless You do this in and through me, it cannot be done.

Either You’re real, and You deliver, and You heal, and You can change me or I have no hope.”

Welcome to the honest cry for the death of the flesh.

And from there

God will do what needs to be done.

And the pattern is

that he will do for each of us

what He did for Peter -

He will place us in a situation in which all our hope for the future

depends upon the success of the flesh,

and then He will allow the flesh to fail.

In a group this size,

there are very likely some of you here this morning

who are at that very point in your life.

And it does indeed feel like death.

And if you’re there,

let me assure you that our God is not just the God of death,

or even mostly the God of death,

He is the God of resurrection,

and He can and will bring you through to new life in Him,

a life in which the power of the flesh is broken forever.

It will still linger, and harass, and irritate,

but it will not dominate as before.

Which is exactly where Peter ends this section of his letter,

with a tremendous statement of hope and life.

1PE 4:6 For the gospel has for this purpose been preached even to those who are dead, (dead in spirit, living only in and by the power of the flesh) that though they are judged in the flesh as men, they may live in the spirit according to the will of God.

Our bodies will indeed be judged and found to be unworthy vessels of the new spirit our Lord has created within us,

and they will ultimately be discarded

and replaced by a new body,

one that has never known sin,

one that will never know corruption,

one that will perfectly express the life of our recreated righteous spirit for all eternity.