1 PETER 2:18–25
Suffering as the Messiah Did
18 Let slaves obey their masters with all respect, not only the good and kind ones but also the unkind ones. 19 It is to your credit, you see, if because of a godly conscience you put up with unjust and painful suffering. 20 After all, what credit is it if you do something wrong, are beaten for it, and take it patiently? But if you do what is right, suffer for it, and bear it patiently, this is to your credit before God.
21 This, after all, is what came with the terms of your call:
Because the Messiah, too, suffered on your behalf,
Leaving behind a pattern for you
So that you should follow the way he walked.
22 He committed no sin,
Nor was there any deceit in his mouth.
23 When he was insulted, he didn’t insult in return,
When he suffered, he didn’t threaten,
But he gave himself up to the one who judges justly.
24 He himself bore our sins
In his body on the cross,
So that we might be free from sins
And live for righteousness.
It is by his wound that you are healed.
25 For you were going astray like sheep,
But now you have returned to the shepherd
And guardian of your true lives.
Not long ago, at the height of a snowstorm, our house, and two nearby villages as well, were without electric power for fourteen hours. Our heating system is controlled by electricity, so the house became very cold. We could burn logs in a stove, but though that could keep us warm it wouldn’t be easy to cook on it. The telephones didn’t work. The computers, of course, didn’t work either. It reminded me once more not only what it’s like for many people today in parts of the world where electric power is only intermittent, but what it was like for everyone until extremely recently within human history.
Now imagine, as well, that there was a fuel shortage, so that nobody could use their cars. No trains running, either; no planes flying. Suddenly life is a lot more basic. And a lot more time-consuming. I doubt if I’d be sitting here writing a book if I lived in a world without electric power or motorized transport. I’d probably be out chopping wood, or walking to the nearest town to pick up vegetables. And if I wanted to make the time to do anything more creative, I would have to find someone to do all those things for me. In a world of scarce resources, there might be plenty of people willing to work in return for their keep.
In the ancient world, more or less everything that today is done by electricity, gas and motorized engines was done by slaves. That is not, of course, a defence of the system of slavery. Slavery was a form of systematic, legalized dehumanization. A slave was the ‘property’ of his or her owner, who would provide enough board and lodging to enable the slave to work the next day, and the one after that. But, as ‘property’, the slave could be ill-treated, physically and sexually abused, exploited in a thousand different ways.
We look down our noses at such a world—without realizing that in many parts of today’s supposedly ‘free’ Western society there are many people in virtually the same position. Often hidden from view, they work long hours for minimal wages. They cannot take time off, or look for another job. They may have families to support, and to lose even a single day’s wages, and perhaps their ‘job’ as well, could be disastrous. They are stuck. They are slaves in all but name. If we want to sneer at ancient societies for being so barbaric, we should be careful. They might just sneer back.
Peter does something far more creative than sneering. Quite a few Christians were slaves, as you might expect granted that the gospel of Jesus gives dignity and self-worth to all those who believe it. Peter addresses these Christian slaves. Instead of telling them (as we might prefer) that they should rise up in revolt against their masters, he tells them to obey, and to show respect. And he stresses this, not only when the masters in question are kindly and fair-minded, but also when they are unjust.
Here, from our point of view, he sails very close to the wind. Putting up with unjust suffering looks, to us, very much like colluding with wickedness. Many a violent household, many an abusive workplace, has been able to continue acting wickedly because people have been afraid to speak out, and have kept their heads down and put up with the abuse. Blowing the whistle on such behaviour can cost you your job, your home or even, in extreme cases, your life.
Peter would tell us, I think, to stay with him while he explains. He has glimpsed a deeper truth, behind the moral quagmire which is so obvious to us when we think of people putting up with unjust and painful treatment. He has reflected long and hard on the extraordinary events to do with Jesus. He has thought and prayed through them in the light of the strange and dark scriptures which came to fulfilment in those messianic moments. And he invites followers of Jesus to inhabit his extraordinary story: to embrace it as their own, and, being healed and rescued by those events, to make them the pattern of their lives as well.
The key to it all, of course, is that the crucifixion of the Messiah was the most unjust and wicked act the world had ever seen. Here was the one man who deserved nothing but praise and gratitude, and they rejected him, beat him up, and killed him. To understand this, Peter goes back, as many early Christians did, to Isaiah, this time to the famous chapter 53, where the royal figure of the ‘servant’, called to carry out God’s worldwide saving purposes (42:1–9; 49:1–7; 51:4–9), does so precisely by being unjustly treated, being insulted but not replying in kind, suffering without throwing back curses at his torturers. ‘He himself bore our sins in his body on the cross’, says Peter, picking up Isaiah 53:4. We were going astray like lost sheep, but the wound which he suffered gave us healing (Isaiah 53:5, 6). This is one of the clearest statements in the whole New Testament of the fact that Jesus, the Messiah, took upon himself the punishment that his people deserved. As Israel’s Messiah, and hence the world’s true Lord, he alone could represent all the others. He alone could, completely appropriately, stand in for them.
Now we see how important it is for Peter to say what he does about slaves and masters—and about other situations later in the letter. He isn’t simply recommending that people remain passive while suffering violence. He is urging them to realize that somehow, strangely, the sufferings of the Messiah are not only the means by which we ourselves are rescued from our own sin. They are the means, when extended through the life of his people, by which the world itself may be brought to a new place.
This is hard to believe. It looks, to many, as though it’s just a clever way of not confronting the real issue. But Peter believes that the death and resurrection of Jesus was and is the point around which everything else in the world revolves. Somehow, he is saying, we must see all the unjust suffering of God’s people as caught up within the suffering of his son.
As I was writing this, an email arrived from a Christian friend who lives in a country where the Christian faith is barely tolerated and often persecuted. Things have become very bad, he says. His livelihood has been taken away. The authorities are closing in. Receiving such a message, I feel helpless. Somehow, in prayer, and in such campaigning as we can do, those of us who read 1 Peter in comfortable freedom have a deep responsibility to help our brothers and sisters for whom the persecution of which Peter speaks is a daily reality.
Wright, T. (2011). Early Christian Letters for Everyone: James, Peter, John and Judah (pp. 68–72). London; Louisville, KY: SPCK; Westminster John Knox Press.