The Journey Home: Living as Pilgrims in a Broken World
There's something profoundly beautiful about the image of a journey—a pilgrimage toward home. In the late 1600s, John Bunyan captured this imagery in his classic work The Pilgrim's Progress, describing the Christian life as a journey from the City of Destruction to the Celestial City. Along the way, the pilgrim Christian faces trials, temptations, and dangers, guided by his book (symbolizing Scripture) and helped by companions who appear at just the right moments.
This allegory resonates deeply with the closing words of the Apostle Peter's first letter, where he addresses believers living as exiles in a hostile world. His words, written during the bloodiest period of Christian martyrdom in church history, offer timeless wisdom for navigating life in a culture that doesn't honor God.
Living Hope in the Midst of Suffering
Peter never pretends that faith will spare us from suffering. Throughout his letter, he confronts this reality head-on: suffering is not a detour from faith but often the very furnace God uses to refine it. The pain we experience, the challenges we face, the disappointments that break our hearts—none of these are wasted in God's economy.
"After you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace will himself restore you and make you strong, firm, and steadfast."
This isn't wishful thinking or self-help optimism. It's a promise rooted in the character of a God who meets us in the fire and walks us through it. The living hope we have in Jesus isn't dependent on our circumstances but on the unchanging reality of His resurrection. When everything around us feels like it's crumbling, we have something the world cannot steal: a hope anchored in eternity.
Shepherds Who Serve Like Jesus
Peter's words to church leaders are striking in their humility. Writing as a "fellow elder," not as someone lording his apostleship over others, he calls shepherds to lead with care, not control. The flock they tend isn't theirs—it belongs to God. They're under-shepherds serving the Chief Shepherd, Jesus Christ.
Three contrasts emerge in Peter's instruction:
- Lead because you want to, not because you have to
- Serve for the good of others, not for personal gain
- Lead by example and presence, not by power and pressure
- In a world where authority is often wielded for personal advancement, platform, and comfort, this vision of leadership is radically countercultural. True spiritual authority flows through love. Leaders are called to walk ahead of the flock not to be seen but to make the way safe for others to follow.
These standards matter for everyone, not just those in leadership positions. In an era marked by skepticism toward authority—sadly, often warranted by abuse from those meant to serve—we need to know what biblical leadership looks like. We need to ask the hard questions: Do our leaders stand between us and spiritual harm? Do they know our stories, our wounds, our questions? Do they serve eagerly or calculate for applause? Do they love or dominate?
Authority without accountability will always lead to serving the flesh of humanity. Over time, success in ministry can replace spiritual health, and influence can outgrow intimacy with God.
The Courage of Humility
"Clothe yourselves with humility toward one another, because God opposes the proud but shows favor to the humble."
The Greek word used here for "clothe" is the same word used in John 13, where Jesus wrapped a towel around His waist, knelt down, and washed His disciples' feet. Humility isn't passive weakness or letting others trample over you. It's courageous strength under authority—specifically, under God's authority.
Interestingly, Peter connects humility with anxiety. Pride says, "I've got this. This is on my shoulders." Pride is the original sin of Adam and Eve, who turned their backs on God and declared independence. The more we grasp for control in our pridefulness, the more anxious we become.
But humility says, "I need You, God. All of this is in Your hands." Humility releases control and finds peace in surrender.
"Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you."
Notice Peter doesn't say to pretend anxieties don't exist or to shove them down. He says to cast them—to take them off our shoulders and place them on God's shoulders. Why can we do this? Because He cares. It's that simple and that beautiful. God's love for us is so profound that He sent His Son from heaven to walk among us, to die in our place, to offer us the free gift of eternal life.
Standing Firm in Spiritual Battle
But humility doesn't mean passivity in the face of spiritual attack. Peter warns: "Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour."
The enemy rarely starts with level-100 attacks. He begins with distraction—small compromises, harmless habits that dull our hunger for God. One mentor described it as "toeholds" that become "footholds" that eventually become "strongholds." We must pay attention to the world we walk in, recognizing that more than flesh and blood is at work.
But we don't face this battle alone. We're tied together as a community, like climbers crossing a glacier roped to one another. When someone falls into a crevasse—when temptation gains a foothold, when trials overwhelm—we dig in our ice axes and hold firm. We're called to stand in a resting position for one another, to pull each other up, to ensure no one walks the journey alone.
A Distinct People in a Broken World
Throughout Peter's letter runs the theme of holiness—being set apart. This isn't about perfection or prudishness or rule obsession. It means being distinct, clearly belonging to God's kingdom while living in this world.
Holiness is simply living in a way that says, "This is not my home." Our true home is in the kingdom of God, and we're called to walk even now in the postures of that kingdom. We step out of the fog of false ideologies, cultural wars, and additions to the gospel that muddy the whole thing. Our living hope is Jesus and Jesus alone.
Therefore, our lives should look different—in the way we love even when it's inconvenient, the way we forgive when it's undeserved, the way we show compassion in countercultural ways. Why? Because we belong to a King whose reign is over a better, eternal kingdom.
The Journey Continues
Peter's final encouragement echoes where he began: Humble yourselves under God's mighty hand. Cast your cares on Him because He cares for you. Stand firm in your faith and trust that the God of all grace will finish what He started in you.
When Peter reminds us that "the end is near," he doesn't give way to fear-mongering. Instead, he offers practical instruction: pray, love one another, be hospitable, serve one another. Our love for each other isn't defined by how much we like each other but by our shared redemption and our journey of sanctification together.
We are pilgrims crossing the glacier, tied together with rope, headed toward the river's edge where the Celestial City awaits. The journey is hard. Suffering is real. But it's temporary, and God's grace does not expire.
The God of all grace will Himself restore you. He will make you strong, firm, and steadfast. To Him be the power forever and ever.
Amen.