This morning, as we continue our series in chapel this fall on hope, we’ll be looking at the hope of heaven in 1 Peter 1:3–13. And while you’re turning there, let me tell you about one of my favorite movie scenes of all time. It’s from The Return of the King. Gandalf and Pippin are defending Minas Tirith, and they’ve retreated several times further back into the city, and yet the battle presses on, it wages all around them. There’s this constant thudding in the background of the troll breaking down the door, and there’s nowhere left to go. Death seems almost inevitable.
Pippin says, “I didn’t think it would end this way.” There’s a deep peace and a quiet calm. Maybe that’s why I like it so much. And Gandalf replies, “End? No, the journey doesn’t end here. Death is just another path, one that we all must take.” And at this point, you can almost see Gandalf fixing his gaze on this other reality that’s out there. “The gray rain curtain of this world rolls back and all turns to silver glass. And then you see it.” “What, Gandalf?” Pippin replies, “See what?” Gandalf measures his words carefully. “White shores and beyond a far green country under a swift sunrise.” “Well,” says Pippin, “that isn’t so bad.” “No,” says Gandalf with a smile. “No, it isn’t.”
He paints a picture. Gandalf paints a picture of what awaits, and in that picture there’s hope to face whatever comes, even death. The circumstances haven’t changed. The battle still rages. It seems inevitable that the city is going to fall. Death is coming, but there’s hope.
What is your picture of heaven like? If you have kids that are my kids’ age, nine and five, maybe you’ve seen one too many Disney movies, and so your picture of heaven may be significantly influenced by that conclusion of happily ever after. Or maybe there’s that art history class that you took in college, so your picture of heaven is influenced by that Renaissance portrait where you’re surrounded by overweight infants and wings and loosely fitting diapers, sitting on clouds, strumming their harps. Or maybe your picture of heaven is influenced by theological propositions. By the way of negation, we could say theologically, it’s the opposite of hell. Or maybe positively you would speak of God’s presence in some way. Or at RTS, to be Reformed, to be really Reformed, you might say, “It’s where we go because we believe that we’re saved by grace alone, through faith alone, because of Christ alone.”
Peter . . . wants to give you a hope of heaven that you can cling to even as Jesus takes you through the valley of the shadow of death.But I want heaven to be more than just theological propositions for you, not just facts about the new heavens and new earth. I want your heart to be captured by its beauty. Maybe your picture of heaven is a little bit more developed. Maybe your picture of heaven has been influenced by Lewis’s The Great Divorce, and so heaven is something more real, deeper, more substantial in reality. Or maybe you’ve been influenced by Bunyan’s Celestial City. It’s that final destination at the end of a long journey that is beyond our wildest hopes, indescribably good. Or maybe if you’ve been influenced by biblical theology, your picture of heaven is influenced by Eden itself, where man had perfect communion with God, where man walked with God in the garden, where he was put to have rest and created for a purpose.
Peter this morning wants to give you a hope of heaven that you can cling to even as Jesus takes you through the valley of the shadow of death. Let me say that again. Peter this morning wants to give you a hope of heaven that you can cling to even as Jesus takes you through the valley of the shadow of death. He introduces the whole section here by saying, “May grace and peace be yours in fullest measure.” And then let’s look at our text for this morning, starting at verse three:
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to his great mercy has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance, imperishable and undefiled, which will not fade away, reserved in heaven for you, who are protected by the power of God through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials so that the proof of your faith, more precious than gold, which is perishable even though tested by fire, may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. And though you have not seen him, you love him, and though you do not see him now but believe in him, you greatly rejoice with joy inexpressible and full of glory, obtaining as the outcome of your faith the salvation of your souls.
As to this salvation, the prophets who prophesied of the grace that would come to you made careful search and inquiries, seeking to know what person or time the Spirit of Christ within them was indicating as he predicted the sufferings of Christ and the glories to follow. It was revealed to them that they were not serving themselves, but you, in these things which now have been announced to you through those who preached the gospel to you by the Holy Spirit sent from heaven—things into which angels long to look.
Therefore gird your minds for action, keep sober in spirit, fix your hope completely on the grace to be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ.
So far, the inerrant and inspired and authoritative Word of the living God. May he add his blessing to it. Please pray with me.
Heavenly Father, this morning as we think of the hope of heaven, I pray that you would convince us of our sin and misery, and you would enlighten our minds in the knowledge of Christ, and that you would renew our wills by the power of the gospel through the work of your Holy Spirit and in the mediation of your Son. I pray that you would forgive the one who preaches his sins, for they are many. May we see Jesus and him only. Amen.
This morning I want to show you three things in the text. First, I want to show you the birth and substance of our hope in verses 3–5. Secondly, I want to see show you the circumstances in which our hope endures, 6b through 8a. And then thirdly, I want you to see the action our hope enables: 6a and 8b.
God Gives Christians the Hope of a Glorious Inheritance
First, the birth and substance of our hope. Look again at verse 3 with me. “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to his great mercy has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.”
So the first question that the text brings you to is where do we get our hope? Where does our hope come from? Did you catch it in the text there? God has caused us to be born again to a living hope. God has caused us to be born again. If that’s not Reformed, I don’t know what is. And then notice the origin of our hope. What’s the foundation of it? God, who according to his great mercy—it’s according to his great mercy that he’s caused us to be born again. And then notice what secured our hope. It’s there at the end of verse 3: through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.
Our hope is born in the work of God. It’s outside of us.Do you get the sense of the text here? This is God’s work. It’s born out of his character, and it’s secured by his Son. Its origin isn’t grounded in us in any way. Our hope is born in the work of God. It’s outside of us. In fact, it’s so foreign to us that we have to be born again to this hope. God sets it in our hearts. This is God’s work. It’s born out of his character, and it’s secured by his Son.
But then notice the substance of our hope. What’s the substance of this hope to which God causes us to be born? Starting back at verse 3 reading through verse five. “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to his great mercy has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead to an inheritance, imperishable and undefiled and will not fade away, reserved in heaven for you, who are protected by the power of God through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time.”
There’s an interesting parallel in the text here. We’re born again. God has caused us to be born again to a living hope, verse 3. And then we’re also caused to be born again to an inheritance (verse 4). Somehow I think Peter is showing us here that the living hope of verse 3 and the inheritance of verse 4 are intertwined. We’re born again to this living hope. We’re born again to this inheritance. There’s a very real sense in which Peter is showing you here that the substance of your hope is this inheritance.
Now, think for a minute about inheritance. Let’s say, hypothetically speaking, that you have student loans to the tune of $15,000. But let’s say that you also have a great-grandfather on his deathbed who has promised you $5 million at his passing. Would you be concerned about your $15,000 dollars in student loans? No. Why? Because you have an inheritance.
Salvation is more real, it’s more permanent, it’s more lasting than anything that you can taste, touch, see, or feel.But Peter here in 1 Peter 1 is telling you that this inheritance to which you have been born is so much better than the inheritance left by your great-grandfather. In verse 4, he tells you that this inheritance is imperishable. It’s undefiled. It will not fade away. It’s reserved in heaven, literally, for y’all (the Southern translation). Then in verse 5, he adds that you’re protected by the power of God through faith to this salvation ready to be revealed in the last time.
Do you see what Peter’s saying here? He’s saying two things. First, he’s saying that this inheritance, this salvation is more real, it’s more permanent, it’s more lasting than anything that you can taste, touch, see, or feel. The pew that you’re sitting in one day will be no more. It may last hundreds of years. It might burn down tomorrow. But in the end, it will cease. One day, this chapel will be gone. This campus will be gone. This city will be gone. Our country will end. All these things will fade away, but not your inheritance. Your inheritance is imperishable, undefiled, and it will not fade away.
But Peter is saying another thing here, too. He’s saying this salvation, this inheritance, it’s imperishable, it will never fade away, is yours. It’s not some generic, distant reality out there: I’ve heard Hawaii is nice. No, this imperishable inheritance is reserved in heaven for you. And Peter says that we, the church, are protected to that salvation until the end. That’s the substance of our hope: that there’s an inheritance that’s imperishable, and it’s reserved in heaven for you. So first we had the birth and substance of our hope in verses 3–5.
Our Hope Endures Even in Great Trials Which Strengthen Our Faith
Secondly, we have the circumstances in which our hope endures, 6b–8a.
In this you greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials, that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold which is perishable, even though tested by fire, may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ; and though you have not seen him, you love him, and though you do not see him now but believe in him, you greatly rejoice with joy inexpressible and full of glory.
I love the realism of the Bible. It takes this remarkable hope that in many ways is almost too beautiful to believe and places it squarely in the context of today’s worries and struggles and trials. The Bible tells us that we’re going to face trials even though we’re believers. We’re going to face distress and grief and hardship and pain and loss. According to the Bible, distress and trials are simply the facts of life. Did you catch that in verse 6? “In this you greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials.”
But I think Peter is trying to give you some perspective on your trials. Did you notice his frame through which he introduced the trials? “Even though now for a little while you have been distressed by various trials.” I think that Peter is trying to show you that there’s something more permanent, something more lasting, something more enduring than your current distress. Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t think Peter wants to minimize the depths of your trials or the agony of your distress. After all, it seems that this epistle was written in the 60s and this was under Nero’s persecution. Peter knew trials. Peter knew distress. Nero obviously was notorious for how he killed Christians. Nero wrapped Christians in the hides of wild beasts to be torn to pieces by dogs. Nero nailed Christians to crosses. Nero set Christians on fire to serve as street lights at night. Peter knew trials.
Our hope doesn’t dismiss our trials and our distresses. It embraces them.Peter’s not discarding your trials, he’s simply trying to give you perspective. When you cling to that living hope of an inheritance that is imperishable, that is reserved in heaven for you, and it will never fade away, your distresses, your trials begin to seem more momentary and less substantial and lighter. How does the apostle Paul put it? “For a momentary light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond comparison” (2 Cor. 4:17). Our hope doesn’t dismiss our trials and our distresses. It embraces them. They’re real, but there’s something more real. And this is the tension of the Christian life. John Piper says it this way, “Your final healing is as far away as your resurrection from the dead. However, your invincible joy of hope is as close as the risen Christ.” There’s distress, and there’s hope; there’s affliction, and there’s belief; there’s pain, and there’s joy; there’s brokenness, and there’s faith.
It is precisely in our trials that our hope has the opportunity to become more real.And may I go so far as to say that it is precisely in our trials that our hope has the opportunity to become more real. Light shines brightest in darkness. There’s a reason that it’s called The Valley of Vision, because when you’re utterly distressed and perplexed and confused and on the brink of total despair and God has taken you to your knees, there’s only one place you can look: up to him. As Tim Keller has said, “You don’t realize that Jesus is all you need until Jesus is all you have.” That’s the circumstances in which our hope endures: trials and distresses. Now, Peter gives you a reason for your distress in verse 7 and the essence of your faith in verse 8, but we don’t have time to go into that this morning. And then we have the wonder of our hope and verses 9–12, but we don’t have time to go there either.
Our Hope Enables Us to Greatly Rejoice
So that takes us then thirdly, to the action our hope enables. The action our hope enables, 6a, 8b. We’ve seen this action of hope twice already in the text. We saw it in the midst of trials and distresses in verse 6. And it was there even when we couldn’t see him in verse 8. What’s the action? “In this you greatly rejoice.” “In this you greatly rejoice.”
What do you greatly rejoice in in the midst of your trials and distresses? “In this.” That’s all that stuff that’s gone before. Being born again to a living hope and being born again to an inheritance that’s imperishable and being born again to a salvation that’s reserved for you. In these things, in all of this, you can rejoice, even though you were distressed by various trials.
But then notice the caliber or the quality of the rejoicing in verse 8. “And though you have not seen him, you love him, and though you do not see him now but believe in him, you greatly rejoice” here it is, “with joy inexpressible and full of glory.” “With joy inexpressible and full of glory.” Isn’t that remarkable? This isn’t some flimsy, tentative, half-hearted kind of rejoicing. “You greatly rejoice with joy inexpressible and full of glory.” How in the world do you rejoice like that? How do you rejoice like that when you’re facing trials? How do you rejoice like that when you can’t see him?
Peter gives us the answer in verse 13: “Therefore, gird your minds for action, keep sober in spirit, fix your hope completely on the grace to be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ.” How do you rejoice with joy inexpressible and full of glory when you’re facing trials, when you can’t see him? “Fix your hope completely on the grace to be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ.”
So then naturally the question is: what is the grace to be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ? And as context is king, we need to go back to verse 9. Contextually here, the grace to be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ refers back to its antecedent in verse 9. That antecedent is the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls. But we have a reference to this going back before that. It was discussed back in verses 4 and 5. This grace to be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ is the inheritance that’s imperishable and undefiled and will not fade away that’s reserved in heaven for you and protected by the power of God.
In order to hang on when Jesus has you in the crucible of affliction, your picture of heaven needs to be more real than anything else on earth.Do you see what Peter’s saying here? He’s saying fix your hope on your inheritance. Fix your hope on heaven. He’s saying in order to hang on when Jesus has you in the crucible of affliction, your picture of heaven needs to be more real than anything else on earth. What is your picture of heaven?
How to Paint a Picture of Heaven
For a moment this morning, I want to use our sanctified imaginations to paint a picture of heaven that will help you to fix your hope completely on the grace to be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ. I want to give you more than bare facts about heaven. I want to help you shape a living hope of an imperishable inheritance that you can cling to even when you walk through the valley of the shadow of death. I want your picture of heaven to be so clear that even when you face the deepest grief in this world or unimaginable injustice or overwhelming pain, that you can cling to this picture in darkness and it can sustain you. It can give you hope.
I want your picture of heaven to be so real to your heart that in frowning providences you will take your Father’s hand and trust him, even though you’re in that slough of despond, or the pit of utter despair and don’t see a way out. I want your picture of heaven to be so real to your heart that the peace that passes understanding will be with you in the dark night of the soul. You see, a clear picture of heaven gives you a hope that is ultimately unshakable. Why? Because you know how the story ends. You know the final destination. You know what is waiting for you on the other side. You can’t arrange for heaven here, though don’t we try to do that so often? You can’t arrange for heaven here, but it is coming
Now, a clear picture of heaven doesn’t mean that you won’t struggle. It doesn’t mean that you’ll never doubt or cry out in anger, “Why?” or “How long?” Even the Psalmists do that. Even Job does that. But a clear picture of heaven will help you to remember the deeper reality in your suffering. It will give meaning to your pain. It will help you remember that your small story is a part of a much bigger, much grander story. This picture of heaven will give you something to hold onto when everything else has been taken away.
I think that God puts certain memories in our hearts, those pieces of our story that whisper to us of love and of beauty and of warmth and of home and of adventure. And I think he gives us those memories so that we have something tangible and personal to attach to our hope of heaven. Our fondest memories, our most powerful longings serve as signs that gently call to our hearts that there is a deeper reality that is to come. Perhaps we could say that God has put eternity into our hearts, in part through these overwhelmingly powerful, indescribably good memories that leave us longing for something more than we can ever find on this earth.
So using Lewis’s argument from desire, what is heaven like? Picture the most beautiful place you’ve ever been. Is it the Rocky Mountains, the white sands of your favorite beach, a secluded waterfall, the vibrant color of leaves changing in the fall in New England, the open sky that stretches over a vast plain in the West, the blooming flowers of spring? The most beautiful place you’ve ever been. Now add to that the most amazing sunset that you’ve ever seen. Can you picture it? The fiery reds, the golden yellows, the clouds, the sunlight breaking through. Beautiful place. Amazing sunset. Now add to that your fondest memories of home. Affirmation, warmth, love, tenderness.
Now, think about the deepest connection that you’ve ever had with another human being, your best friend, who made that enormous sacrifice, who stood by you and no one else would. So beautiful place, amazing sunset, memories of home, the deepest connection. Now feel the thrill of the greatest adventure in your life. Is it bungee jumping? Is it your team coming back from behind and winning the national championship? The thrill. And now imagine the satisfaction that you feel when your favorite story comes to an end. Beautiful place, amazing sunset, fondest memories of home, deepest connection with another human being, the thrill of the greatest adventure in your life, and the satisfaction that you feel when your favorite story comes to an end.
Now wipe away every tear, redeem all that was broken, heal every hurt, give back all that was taken away, right every wrong, and remove death for all time. And now you’re beginning to scratch the surface of what awaits for you in the new heavens and the new earth. You’re beginning to fix your hope completely on that imperishable inheritance that is reserved in heaven for you. May that picture of heaven be a deeper reality that gives you hope, even as Jesus takes you through the valley of the shadow of death. “End?” Gandalf replies, “No, the journey doesn’t end here. Death is just another path, one that we all must take.” Pray with me.