I Peter 3:13-22 "Always Be Ready" Scott Hoezee

The Christian faith has been in the news lately as this year's primary season has produced more than its fair share of Christianity-related headlines. Perhaps it is because two religious figures have been candidates: both Gary Bauer and Alan Keyes operate from clearly faith-based principals. So perhaps the other candidates have felt the need to "catch up," as it were. Or perhaps it is because our nation currently has such a strong economy that politicians have the time to deal with other issues, including religious ones.

Or perhaps on the other hand this is nothing new whatsoever. As a New York Times article pointed out last Sunday, already in the 19^th century the Know-Nothing political party came into existence at least partly to demand that the government curb what many American Protestants perceived to be an alarming increase in Roman Catholic immigration to this country. And forty years ago Senator John F. Kennedy had to appear before a convention of Protestant clergy in Houston to assure them that if elected president, he as a Catholic would not be taking orders from the Pope in Rome.

So it goes in American politics, and so in recent weeks we have been assailed with multiple newspaper and magazine stories on issues related to Christians. Meanwhile on the cable TV circuit there has been a steady parade of professors, pastors, and other so-called religious "experts" who have been asked to share their opinions on religious issues.

Yet in and through all of this chatter and talk, the one thing that is seldom if ever asked by newspaper reporters or talk show hosts is the question, "Why exactly are you a Christian? What accounts for your hope?" Maybe the reason this question does not get asked is that everyone assumes they already know the answer. Maybe many people figure they already have enough information about what Christians believe. They may be wrong but they don't know that and so feel no need to acquire further information.

To a certain extent we can understand that. After all, if I were to mention Islam or Hinduism to most of you, you would probably know at least a few things about those other religious faiths. Even if the average Muslim or Hindu would deem your knowledge of their faith to be paltry if not inaccurate, I doubt that many of us would feel the burning need to go out tomorrow morning and read some books to deepen our knowledge of Hinduism and Islam. You figure you know enough to get by.

That's simply the way a lot of people treat Christianity: it is such a familiar part of the landscape it's easy to assume they already know enough. But the result is that most of us are unaccustomed to encountering the question, "Why are you a Christian? In this often terrible world, what makes you think you can realistically have any hope?"

We don't get asked that very often. Yet the apostle Peter urged his readers long ago, and through the Spirit urges us again this morning, to always be ready to give an answer to those who inquire about the hope in our hearts. In the original Greek what Peter urges is that we be ready with an apologia, an "apology" for our faith. The original meaning of the word "apology" does not mean saying you're sorry but rather in classic Greek an apology is a reasoned, well-thought-out explanation. Mostly this word was reserved for use in courtroom settings in which attorneys were expected to produce carefully reasoned and thoughtfully presented evidence by which to build a convincing case for a judge or jury.

Peter imports this word from the legal world into the world of the everyday, saying that as Christians we need to be ready with a solid apology for our hope in case anyone asks. Even as a lawyer would not walk into court without having done his homework, so we should not walk out into the marketplaces, factories, or offices of life without having devoted some time to thinking through our faith.

It's not enough to quote John 3:16 and assume this should suffice as an answer to anyone's query about our faith. No lawyer would get very far if she could only mumble a few generalities about the case before the court. We believers won't get very far, either, if we cannot move beyond short or incomplete answers to questions about our faith and hope.

On this morning when two people have stood up here to profess their faith, this is a good time for them, but really for all of us, to be reminded of this facet of what it means to be a Christian. We want to explain our faith in ways that will not just pass along information but that will have a chance actually to convert the other person. Preparing such an apologetic takes a lot of work and thought and ongoing study of God's Word.

It also requires that we be creative enough to tailor that apology for different people in varying situations. But for this morning, rather than try to construct an entire explanation of our faith, let's take a cue from I Peter 3 to learn the overarching principle that needs to inform all our apologetic explanations. Peter wants us to be thoughtful presenters of the faith. But he also knows that in some ways how we present our hope's apology is just as important as what we say. Let me explain.

Today is the first Sunday in Lent, the season in which we pay special attention to Jesus' cross and suffering. The passage we read this morning likewise wants to pay attention to the suffering of Jesus. In fact, this entire first letter of Peter deals extensively with the theme of suffering and its relationship to Jesus' sacrifice on the cross. Peter had no choice but to deal with this topic since at the time he wrote this letter the church was undergoing fierce persecution at the hands of the evil Roman emperor Nero.

But it was not just physical persecutions that concerned Peter but also verbal persecution, the ways by which people were poking fun of Christians and their beliefs. Not everyone to whom Peter wrote was in danger of being fed to the lions. Some of Peter's readers were facing no more than snickering laughter and criticisms. How silly it seemed to some people to claim as Lord some obscure, long-dead carpenter's son from the backwaters of the Roman Empire out in a place called Nazareth.

Peter knew that this kind of persecution could also be very hard to take. He knew that the temptation in such situations would be for Christians to respond in kind by being cynical, sneering, and harsh also in their own speech and demeanor. So it's not enough to suggest that Christians always have an apology ready. Peter also has to tack on this vital advice: "Present your apologetic explanation with gentleness, humility, and respect." In our decidedly non-gentle, disrespectful age of public shouting matches in which verbal brawls are held up as a way to get your point across, Peter's advice ought to have great resonance.

Part of the reason Peter gives this advice is stated in verse 16: he does not want believers to give people legitimate grounds to criticize Christians as unpleasant folks to be around. "Let them criticize us as foolish or whatever," Peter says, "but don't give them further cause to criticize the church by being nasty yourselves." Then, as now, there were plenty of people who believed that Christians are really just thinly disguised hypocrites. "Don't add fuel to that fire," Peter advises. "Even when other people are disrespectful of you, don't return the disfavor."

That is a very practical reason to be gentle in our speech with others. But there is another, larger reason for being humble and respectful toward even our fiercest critics. This other reason is not as obvious but in some ways it is even more important. The second reason is this: the hope that is within us is centered on the cross of Jesus. We have a cross-shaped hope. Our hope is based on the fact that the worst thing that could ever happen in history has already taken place: namely, God's own Son got killed. Yet our hope emerges through the gloom of Good Friday onto the other side in the shining resplendence of Easter. God has brought victory out of this world's worst event, and if God could do that, then there really is hope for the whole blessed kit-and-kaboodle!

Jesus' sacrifice is the source of our hope. Given who Jesus is and what he suffered for us, of course we have to present our faith in gentle, humble, respectful ways. How else could you possibly talk about Jesus! To be rude, to be proud or arrogant, to pose yourself over against others in finger-wagging, shrill ways that turn your encounters with the world into ugly shouting matches would betray the very hope you are supposed to be explaining!

You cannot promote chastity by paying a prostitute for sex. You cannot promote racial harmony by becoming a dues-paying member of the Ku Klux Klan. You cannot lecture people on the merits of sobriety while knocking back your fifth Martini at a cocktail party. And you cannot present a gentle, suffering servant like Jesus while acting in decidedly non-gentle, disrespectful ways. We need always to be ready to give an explanation for the hope that is within us, but we need to give that apology in ways that will be transparent to the Jesus who is the Author of this hope.

Of course, as Jesus himself demonstrates, being humble gets you nowhere with some people. Especially these days taking a quiet, respectful approach as we gently try to make the case for our Christian faith may be a sure ticket to not being heard. Try that approach on the Maury Povitch show or while sitting around the circle of the MacLaughlin Group and no one will even hear you--you'll be drowned out by the hopping-up-and-down, shrill, fist-pumping people seated around you. A thoughtful, careful, gentle explanation of the faith does not make for gripping television! It also is likely to be dismissed by many people as boring. You can't grab people's attention by taking the low verbal road. And it is precisely for this reason that all through history the church has faced, and too-often fallen prey to, the temptation to exchange humility for power, conversion at the tip of a gentle, respectful tongue for conversion at the tip of a sword . It's frustrating to be ignored.

But as Peter would no doubt agree, it would be better to not reach certain people than to adopt tactics of communication that undermine your message. Jesus' way of doing things has become our way through baptism. As people who now have resurrection life, we need to find gentle ways to communicate and live out the gospel. So far I have suggested two reason for that: the first is so that no one will have cause to call us hypocrites, the second is so that we will keep our presentation of hope consistent with the Jesus who is that hope's bright center. But I want to conclude this morning with a third reason as well.

We ourselves must never forget what we also want to tell the world: namely, our God sees and cares about suffering. God cares so much about this world's broken condition that far from staying "above it all," God through Jesus sunk himself neck-deep into the quicksand of the very same life you and I live. That is how Jesus operated because of how much he loves us and is concerned about our hurts.

But if our gruff conduct or flippant speech blows past people's hurts, if we act like being a Christian means there are no more painful experiences or hard questions, then we undercut the gospel. Genuine Christian hope arises out of the hard truth of how things really are in this life. As Craig Barnes once wrote, Christians always have their hands full: in the one hand we carry gospel hope and all that it promises for our universe. But in the other hand we carry the truth of life's harsher realities. To carry only the hope in ways that deny the hurt is to carry only half the gospel.

We need to be gentle, humble, kind, and respectful when presenting the gospel because we don't want anything to get in the way of people's sensing how much compassion Jesus has for them--yes, Jesus even has compassion on the sinful cluelessness that might make our conversation partners become sneering sometimes. Jesus sees the hurt and disorientation that makes people act badly. Those are the very things that need healing. That's why we cannot use bad behavior in others as an excuse to act badly or speak harshly ourselves. That won't help anyone!

We must never say or do things that will obscure the fact that God so loved the world, with all its jagged edges and rotten people, God so loved the world, that he sent his only begotten Son to die for it. Love is where the gospel begins. Love is where it ends. Love must set the tone when we present our apology for the hope that is within us.

Jon and Rebecca, as you have today formally set out on your own sacred journeys in this world, always be ready to explain what you did here today, and why. By the grace of God's Spirit you've got hope in your hearts--a stubborn hope that will not be consumed by the cynicism of other Gen Xers, unraveled by the average day's newspaper headlines, quenched by the undeniable fact that there are many days when it looks like this old world is not going anywhere but down the tubes. Spend time from here on out examining that hope and where it comes from and why you've got it. Be ready to tell others about it but when you do, realize that it was the suffering of Jesus on the cross that brought you this hope. Remember that, and then let Jesus' own humility and gentleness determine the way you live out the professions you made here today as well as the way you talk about it all.

But as we said earlier, the same applies to us all. "You are my witnesses," Jesus once told the disciples. Sometimes we tend to put the emphasis of that sentence on the first word, "You are my witnesses." But the second-to-the-last word is also vital, "You are my witnesses." We must never forget whose we are, how he lived, how he saved us. Those who listen to us talk must never be in doubt that it was deep, deep concern about real suffering that led God to initiate this whole thing we now call Christian faith and hope.

In a book some years ago Roger VanHarn told a story with which I'll conclude. This story can do two things: it can remind us of the God who refuses to brush aside suffering but who made suffering his way to reach a lost creation. This story can also remind us of how we should act when explaining gospel hope to the lost and suffering folks around us.

It seems that one December afternoon just before Christmas vacation was to begin a group of parents stood in the lobby of a preschool, waiting to claim their children. When the bell rang, the youngsters ran from the classroom, each child carrying in his or her hands a special "surprise"--a brightly wrapped package containing a project that each child had diligently been working on for weeks to give Mom and Dad for Christmas. One little boy was trying to run, put on his coat, and wave all at the same time. He slipped and fell, the "surprise" flying out of his hands and landing on the tile floor with an obvious ceramic crash. There was a moment of stunned silence which was immediately followed by the little one's inconsolable wail of tears. The boy's father immediately tried to comfort the little guy, kneeling down and saying, "It's OK, son. It really doesn't matter. It's OK." But the boy's mother was wiser about such things. She swept the little boy into her arms and said, "Oh, but it does matter. It matters a very, very great deal!" And she wept with her son. Amen.