Sermon 11th November 2012

Today, one of our Lay Readers, Simon Brindley, continues our study of the book of 1 Peter.

(1 Peter 4: 12-19)

Just to start, let’s remind ourselves of what this First letter of Peter, that we have been looking at for a few weeks, is all about. It is written to early Christians, scattered in communities in the Middle East, who have embraced completely the message about the work and life and death of Jesus Christ and therefore the message of freedom and salvation that their new faith brings, who will probably as a result be standing out a mile from those around them, but who have begun to experience suffering and persecution of various kinds in their families, work and communities because of exactly that.

So it addresses suffering for being a Christian and we’ll come back to that soon as the main theme of this morning’s passage, but I think Peter’s letter also has a lot to say generally about how we deal with suffering in all its forms and so about one of the biggest challenges we all have to face from time to time. We want to go further down this path of following Jesus Christ – whether we are just looking at the signposts, just starting down that path, have taken a number of steps or are really clocking up the miles - but how are we to deal with the suffering we see in the world around us and experience ourselves and among those whom we love? Is this really where a loving God is leading us?

How do we deal, for example, with the suffering and sacrifices we see in wars, ever present in our world but brought closer to home for all of us in this country in the last decade or so because of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan? Brought possibly very close to home, brought in fact into our own personal experience of suffering, if we know anyone who has been injured or killed in those wars? I have spoken briefly to 3 soldiers in recent weeks and this Remembrance Sunday morning offer just a few brief thoughts. First, whatever we might think personally about the incredibly difficult politics, outcomes and risks of the wars that our country has engaged in recently, it does seem to me that the British army is genuinely motivated by a desire to do what they were sent to do, to get their mission done and to attempt to make life better and safer for the people of those countries and, perhaps, also for us in the West. And they are prepared to make sacrifices if necessary to get that mission done. Faced with the choice of doing what they were sent to do and risking injury and death or backing off, they remain absolutely committed to their role. Whether we agree with the bigger picture or not, this morning we can perhaps applaud, thank and remember them before God for having the courage to try. And all these thoughts apply, of course, to those we still remember this morning from all the wars of the twentieth century.

Secondly, one thing that seems very clear at the frontline of war is just how strong the commitments can become to your fellow soldiers. You literally have the lives of the other men in your patrol in your hands. One wrong decision about moving across the ground and someone may die. And at any moment you may find yourself having to risk your own life for the others. A grenade comes over a wall. If you shout to everyone to get down you may all be killed or injured. Pick it up and throw it into the irrigation ditch ten yards away and you may die but others may live. With luck it will not explode till it hits the water and you may all live. How many of us are ever actually asked to, as the Bible puts it, risk “laying down our own lives for our friends?” So we give thanks and remember before God this morning the brave men and women prepared to put themselves into those situations.

And finally there is no doubt that the immediate suffering in the middle of a war is an opportunity for all human compassion to emerge. I was speaking this week to the priest who for 4 months recently was the army chaplain at the hospital at Camp Bastion in Afghanistan. He is a former member of this parish so you may know him. He described how, as the helicopters brought in the dead and wounded, he was routinely one of those to lift the bodies off the stretchers. And he described the immense privilege of ministering to those men and women, the wounded, the dying and the dead and how much the soldiers said they appreciated his ministry, men and women who might be just days or perhaps even just moments from death. He said he would go there again tomorrow.

And I heard a few months ago about a young army medic who, although wounded herself in an IED explosion, carried on treating the badly wounded leader of her patrol until the helicopters arrived. She kept him alive at least until she could hand him over, despite her own injuries.

There is a lot more we could think about on all of this – not least the importance of remembering the casualties on all sides of war and, possibly above all, of civilians - but perhaps for this morning we can just thank God for those prepared to risk their lives for others and for those whose job it is to deal at the front line with the suffering and death of war and to remember in particular those who have had to make the ultimate sacrifice.

Back to Peter’s letter now and a question that has troubled Christians ever since the earliest days of our faith. If now I am set free and saved from sin and death by the God who loves me, and by his son Jesus Christ who died specifically to set me free, how then do I deal with suffering when it comes along and I find myself slap bang in the middle of it?

Here I think Peter is focusing for his readers on suffering that they were experiencing precisely because they were Christians. In some countries today that threat is still very, very real. If we happened to be meeting this morning in some parts of the world, in parts of Iraq or Egypt or Nigeria for example, we may actually fear being attacked or killed today as we leave this building or even as we sit in our seats. There are places where the threats are very immediate. That is not so for us. We live in a broadly tolerant society. More real for us this morning therefore might be the feeling that if we stand out as Christians we risk the sort of ridicule and low level “persecution” engendered by the campaign of virulent secularism and atheism that has dominated the last ten years or so, although my own view is that the impact of that is weakened, possibly even passing, because it lacks real credibility.

But, I would suggest, that much more real for us this morning is likely to be the question of why, despite the fact that we have put our trust in our loving heavenly Father, we find ourselves having to face so much illness and suffering possibly ourselves or among those whom we love? Why do we have to go through such painful tests, whether specifically because we are Christians - as was the case with Peter’s readers - or, if you like, despite the fact that are Christians, which may well be the case for us?

And here is how Peter encourages his readers to look at it.

First, he says, why on earth are you shocked and surprised by your “painful testing” (as the Good News puts it) or your “fiery ordeal” (as appears in some translations), as though something unusual were happening to you?

Don’t fall into the trap, he seems to be saying, of thinking that your faith will necessarily free you from suffering here and now. That is not what you sign up to. It is just too superficial. It does not reflect the world in which we live and it is not consistent with our mortality. That is not to say, I think, that we must absolutely expect to suffer nor, for reasons we must come on to, that God does not care, quite the opposite, it is just that suffering is part of this mortal life. Christians cannot expect to be free of it and may actually, as was the case with Peter’s readers, have to expect to have to deal with it. Although the Christian faith contains a very profound promise of freedom from suffering, it does seem clear that this is not necessarily an immediate freedom.

Peter then very boldly turns everything round the other way and says that in fact we should be glad that we are, in some way, sharing in Christ’s sufferings. The reason, he says, is so that we may be full of joy when Christ’s glory is revealed. This is not saying that we should actively seek out suffering so that we can be more Christ-like. No one is saying that suffering is good in itself, but rather, I suggest, that suffering does allow us to identify, in a very real way, with our God. Our God is not remote, calling and directing from the riverbank while we try on our own to stay afloat in the torrent. He is the God who suffered before us, who was rejected, tortured and killed. In some way suffering might just allow us to identify with that, to begin to understand what might have been going on in His suffering, as well as to draw comfort that he has been there before us. And when we meet Him face to face there will be a joyful mutual understanding, on the far side of it all, as to what this suffering was about and because we will know then, for sure, having experienced suffering and come through the far side, that its power was limited.

And if you actually do have to suffer just because you are a Christian, Peter says, then you are experiencing persecution as he did and for similar reasons. Instead of defeating you, this will be the cause of blessing as the glorious Spirit of God rests on you. The sense I get here is that if you do have to suffer just because you are a Christian you are likely to experience his power to help you and to experience something of his victory. But this is serious stuff. Pray God that you will be given the strength if ever put in that situation. Pray God perhaps that you will be spared the challenge.

But, next, what is certain and can readily be applied to all of us is to make sure you do not suffer because of what you do wrong. The examples given are for being a murderer or a thief or indeed any sort of criminal or a meddler in other peoples’ affairs, a mischief-maker! If any of these results in suffering you only have yourself to blame and should be rightly full of shame and face up to what you have done. But if you suffer expressly because you are a Christian, there is no shame because you bear Christ’s name. You are on his side, part of the same good cause if you like, and you can rejoice in that.

Peter then seems to remind his readers of the sobering thought that everything must be looked at in the bigger picture of what Jesus has done. If the burden of sin is such that from God’s perspective, even the best, most loving and holiest person still needs to be rescued from its power, or, as Peter puts it, it is difficult even for good people, the righteous, to be saved, and if we who call ourselves Christians need to be prepared to be the first to answer in front of God, then perhaps our suffering, however much we must struggle to come to terms with it, is not necessarily our primary concern. These are difficult thoughts because they remind us of the Christian ideas of judgment.

Pause….

But then Peter finishes this passage on a positive note. Look, he says, you may well find yourselves having to suffer. You may find that that is part of the life that God leads you to and through. Don’t be surprised. Do not let that lead you to despair. You can still trust in God as your loving Creator who always keeps his promises and will bring you through.

Perhaps here is the summary of the Christian approach to suffering.  I have had a picture in my mind all week that I will finish by sharing with you in case you find it helpful. Imagine a path that you are on, probably a path in the hills or mountains. It is a rough road and not easy to travel and it is the road of your life. And ahead is an old wooden bridge, a very long wooden bridge across a wide drop down, not too far, to a beautiful lake of blue mountain water. And the bridge leads to despair. It is the bridge of suffering. But as you put your first foot on it and look down you realise that this bridge is not good. The supporting beams are coming away from the hillsides on both sides, the main pillars when you pass them look to be riddled with woodworm, the planks on which you walk are weak with damp and decay. Sometimes it will support your weight for a few paces but then your foot starts to go through and you have to hurry on again. Then you stop and try another pace and your foot breaks through. You are barely half way across the bridge but cannot go back.

The idea is that for Christians, suffering is in fact riddled with hope. If we suffer, God our loving Creator has been there before. If we suffer, God our loving Creator is with us because he stands at our side and strengthens us. If we suffer, God our loving Creator will be there when we fall. Suffering can lead to despair but are we not among those who in fact come crashing through its ultimately rotten bridge, riddled with hope, and fall into his arms below?

If we are and we can see that, Peter finishes, then even if you are suffering show in your life just how you trust God completely. You may, in fact, still in your suffering have opportunities for good actions, for showing care to others, for bringing God’s light and love into the world. “So then, those who suffer because it is God’s will for them should, by their good actions, trust themselves completely to their Creator, who always keeps his promise”!

If you have been through or are experiencing suffering now, do not beat yourself up over this. No one is saying that suffering is not very difficult to deal with and it can absorb all of your strength at times but rather take this as a reassurance, that perhaps there is no situation from which, in time, good cannot come.

Amen.