1 Peter 3:13-22

Now who will harm you if you are eager to do what is good? But even if you do suffer for doing what is right, you are blessed. Do not fear what they fear, and do not be intimidated, but in your hearts sanctify Christ as Lord. Always be ready to make your defense to anyone who demands from you an accounting for the hope that is in you, yet do it with gentleness and respect. Maintain a good conscience so that, when you are maligned, those who abuse you for your good conduct in Christ may be put to shame. For it is better to suffer for doing good, if suffering should be God’s will, than to suffer for doing evil.

For Christ also suffered for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, in order to bring you to God. He was put to death in the flesh but made alive in the spirit, in which also he went and made a proclamation to the spirits in prison, who in former times did not obey, when God waited patiently in the days of Noah, during the building of the ark, in which a few, that is, eight lives, were saved through water. And baptism, which this prefigured, now saves you—not as a removal of dirt from the body but as an appeal to God for a good conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ, who has gone into heaven and is at the right hand of God, with angels, authorities, and powers made subject to him.

Sermon Text

Apologetics is the discipline of answering questions people have about the Christian faith. The word comes from the Greek, “Apologia,” which connotes a legal defense of a position. More properly, an “Apology,” traditionally refers to the process where somebody defends or recontextualizes accusations placed against themselves or on another person’s behalf. There are many famous apologies in the world, but my favorite is written in 1611 by Amelia Lanyer. In her poem, a long description of Christ’s passion, she takes a moment to lament the Herod would not listen to his wife when she said to leave Jesus alone. Building on this, she looks to Adam and his treatment of his wife in the Garden, and our subsequent blaming of Eve for the fall.

“And then to lay the fault on Patience back/ that we (poor women) must endure it all/ we know right well he did discretion lack,/ being not persuaded thereunto at all; If Eve did err, it was for knowledge’ sake,/ The fruit being fair persuaded him to fall: No subtle Serpent’s falsehood did betray him,/ if he would eat it, who had power to stay him?”[1]

Lanyer goes on to paint a little more of the picture of this unhappy arrangement, but her main focus is to tell the story of salvation, so her “Apology,” on Eve’s behalf is short. Still, I hope you can see the typical form of an apology. “What you have heard is this/ what is actually true is this/ therefore we should really see things as this…”

In the early days of the Church, Apologists worked hard against the criticisms of Greek and Roman philosophy as well as Jewish religious tradition. Incorporating those worldviews into their arguments, the early apologists adapted where possible, conceded where common ground could be found, and rejected what could not be reconciled to the Gospel. Today, apologetics is mainly a pursuit of historical and scientific criticism, and less a matter of philosophic debate – though this too comes into the field. Most “apologetic,” classes teach people a very specific kind of worldview and argument.

The curious thing to me, however, is that the context in which we are told to arm ourselves with “apologia,” is not in the context of learning clever arguments or discourse. In fact, later in the Letters of Peter, he specifically speaks against “cleverly devised,” stories in favor of the simplicity of the cross.[2] While I am thankful for the ability to defend my faith intellectually, I do not believe Peter expected everyone to know everything about philosophy, history, and the natural sciences in an attempt to justify their faith. Instead, I think there is academic apologia and practical apologia, the latter being what all Christians are called to.

Peter begins our reading today by asking his people to do good, not only to themselves, but to the ones around them. Feed the hungry, help the widow and orphan, supply for the poor however you can, these were the kind of works he was asking them to engage in. Along with this, the early Church was actively gathering to worship, celebrate the eucharist and the love feast, and to read the scriptures together. Peter was asking his folks to live a life that made it so that, if anyone accused them of wrongdoing, it would be obviously false. In being above reproach, when their enemies came against them to kill them, those who were being honest about the situation would see they were wrong to punish the innocent Christian.

Recently I reread the story of Polycarp’s martyrdom. Polycarp was a bishop in Smyrna, a city sitting in a bay on the coast of what is now Turkey. Polycarp was noted for his teaching and his leadership. Likely a student of John, Polycarp was a second generation Christian. He led the Church through a time of persecution, in which the government of Smyrna was heavily invested in killing Christians.

His Martyrdom, the story of his death, tells us a lot about how we are meant to defend our faith. When his captors came to steal him away, he did not run, despite having the time to do so. He walked downstairs, welcomed them in, and set a table for them to eat. He said they should take as much as they wanted, and that he only asked for an hour to pray. Standing in the house, Polycarp would pray for two hours for the good of all those he knew, had met, or had even seen on the streets. When he was done, he climbed into the carriage, and submitted to be taken to the arena to die.

He would be asked to offer incense to the god who protected Caesar. He refused, saying Christ alone was his God. The rulers begged him to recant his faith, to accept that an eighty-six-year-old should not die in an arena. He refused, and when he was asked to explain his faith he said, “I will to you, if you want to sit down and talk about it. I will not stand before this crowd just for them to shout me down.” Polycarp would be tied to a stake and burned following his refusal to talk or recant. The fire, it is said, would not burn him, and it took a dagger to the heart to kill the saint.

Polycarp, in the extremity of his martyrdom, gives us a lens to the reality that Peter’s contemporaries were living in. People were dying for their faith and the defense they had to give was not just a conversation over coffee, it was usually a matter of them standing up before their death and giving an unwavering declaration of their commitment to Jesus, even if that means death.

1 Peter is a guide for living as an exile in this world. He asks hard things of the faithful in his charge. He says they should obey their leaders, even as their leaders kill them. He says they should not return the abuse they receive, because Jesus did not abuse his tormentors, but forgave them. The evil around us, Peter says, cannot be allowed to corrupt us. We have to do right, to love, and to pray even in the face of the most terrible situations we can imagine.

The key take away for today is that our faith is something that will cause people to expect answers from us. We are blessed that, in our context, those answers are not usually a matter of life and death. Living in a country, living in a world that has known Christendom for some ten centuries, we have somehow lost track of something the martyrs of history, and even of today, inherently understand. Jesus, Polycarp, thousands of saints since them, died without a harsh word on their tongue… Yet, when it comes to our conduct in the world, we have a reputation for anything but gentleness and peace.

What would it look like if Christians lived a bit more like Peter asked them to? If we were gentle and kind and righteous. That does not mean we have to be complacent or unopinionated, but it means that we have to act like the examples of faith we have been given throughout history. How often does someone publicly question our faith and we find ourselves angry? Disagree with us and we prepare to make war with them? Christ, while dying, prayed for those who nailed him to the cross – why am I about fight people for some petty grievance?

I usually like to be a bit more optimistic in my closings, a bit more focused on our potential than our reality… Yet, I have to ask, “What is our excuse?” In a world so full of conflict and pain and war, why am I feeding into the anger and pain and more… I who suffer nothing, who go through life with complete freedom, who am I to wage war against my neighbor in this way? Again, not that we cannot have disagreements, maybe even fights, if we really need to litigate something going on… But I don’t think we go into most battles trying to provide an “answer,” we go in trying to “win.”

Christ, the fullness of God and perfected humanity, did not win in this life. He suffered and died and was pressed down, though never crushed… All throughout this, his anger was only lifted in righteous indignation for others, he answered questions so that others might know truth, he lived in gentleness and peace, and in all that he did modeled what a perfect life could look like for us. If we wish to be Christians, who can answer for the hope which we have been given, then we need to give good answers – not through rage, legislation, or discourse – but through earnestly living into a life where we, “have unity of spirit, sympathy, love for one another, a tender heart, and a humble mind…”[3] – Amen

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[1] Amelia Layner. Salve Deus Rex Judaeorum. 1611

[2] 2 Peter 1:16

[3] 1 Peter 3:8