Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus

“Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus”

1 Peter 1:3-7

Kobe Union Church

May 18, 2025

Preacher: Rev. Mark Bartsch

Sometimes it’s helpful to put yourself in the shoes of a biblical figure not just to understand their words, but to understand their heart. So, imagine for a moment that you’re in Peter’s shoes.

It’s near the end of your life. You’re in Rome, though you call it “Babylon” (1 Peter 5:13)—a symbol of exile, distance, and corruption. It’s a long way from the shores of Galilee where you were once called by Jesus to come and follow him. Since Peter uses the word Babylon, he’s probably thinking of Psalm 137: “By the waters of Babylon, there we sat down and wept, when we remembered Zion.” But Peter is not weeping for the past or even for the present—he is weeping for joy at what is to come: a new Jerusalem our inheritance. 

Peter has received a letter from Christians scattered across Asia Minor—what we now call Turkey. They’re not meeting in churches like we picture them today, with buildings and signs. These are small, vulnerable communities—households of faith—facing ridicule, isolation, and persecution from society.

These people are not strangers to Peter. These are people he knew and loved. Some of them he likely led to Christ—brothers and sisters he prayed over, taught, laughed with. And now they’re suffering for the very faith he helped nurture in them.

What do you say to people you love when they’re hurting? (It is not a hypothetical question) Not just from a natural disaster or a personal failure—but because they dared to follow Jesus? Dared to stand for something?

You see, hardship is universal. It comes for all of us. Jesus reminded us that the sun and rain fall on both the just and the unjust (Matthew 5:45). Sickness, anxiety, loss—these are all part of life in this beautiful but broken world we all live in.

But persecution is different from normal hardship. It’s targeted. It’s not because of what a person has done, but because of who you are, specifically, your identity in Christ. And often, it comes with the temptation to escape: Just deny your faith. Just step away. And we will welcome you back as a brother of the world.

Peter knows that temptation. He felt the heat of the fire and the pressure of the crowd when he denied Jesus—not once, but three times. But more importantly, he also knows what it means to be restored, to be called again by grace.

This letter—1 Peter—is written from that vantage point of grace. I hope we as believers can speak to people from that same vantage point. I will say it differently. WE HAVE TO SPEAK TO PEOPLE BOTH INSIDE AND OUTSIDE THE CHURCH FROM THE VANTAGE POINT OF GRACE! Like I said last week, this is a man who knows failure and forgiveness, who understands fear and faith. And he writes to believers under pressure—not to focus them on their pain, but to center them on the Lord. He lifts their eyes to something bigger. “I lift my eyes to the hills—where does my help come from?” (Psalm 121). The answer, of course, is our help comes from the Lord. Peter knows this, and he wants the church to keep that front and center in the midst of their current struggles.

In fact, this reminds me of something from here in Japan. During the 17th century, Christians were brought before magistrates and forced to step on the fumi-e—a carved image of Jesus or Mary—as a sign that they were renouncing their faith. Some did. But many refused, choosing death rather than denying the One who had called them. Their legacy lives on in places like the 26 Martyrs Monument and Museum in Nagasaki and Oura Church—the oldest Christian church in Japan.

Peter is writing to people in a similar moment. They are being tested—not just in their endurance, but in their identity. And Peter doesn’t respond by saying, “Let me tell you how hard my life has been.” (His life was hard, too.) Or even, “I’m so sorry you’re suffering.” That would only focus them on their pain.

Instead, Peter does something radical. He lifts their eyes to God. And that’s where we begin today—with Peter’s words in 1 Peter 1:3–7, calling us to a living hope, a secure inheritance, and a tested faith more precious than gold.

I’ve shared this before, but when I walk, I usually keep my head down. I’ve always walked that way. I don’t trip. I don’t step in dog poop. But I miss the beauty. Stephanie always says, “Walk with your head up.” That’s what Peter is doing spiritually for the church. “WALK WITH YOUR HEAD UP!

Verse 3: “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ!”

For Peter, for Paul, for John—for all the early saints—this is consistent: the starting point of the Christian life is praise. Put it first. Put it second. In good times (YES). In hard times (DOUBLE YES). There is something powerful—almost magical—that happens when we lift our hearts in praise to God.

I remember going for a job interview about 13 years ago at a university. They needed someone like me, and I was fully qualified. But, of course, I had a lot of Christian things on my CV—like “pastor” and “Master of Divinity”—alongside my academic credentials. A friend told me to take those things out, and if asked, that I not to talk about being a Christian, because the people interviewing me not only weren’t Christians—they disliked Christians. I did not bring my faith up but they literally made fun of me in the interview. It was one of the most hostile most hostile experiences I have faced, and I was pretty discouraged afterward.

I went home and told Stephanie—because at the time, I was unemployed. She did what Peter does for the early church: she said, “We need to praise God.”

Literally, after singing and praising God together in our house, I checked my email. Rie Saito sent me an email asking if I wanted to work at Keimei. The next email—yes, the very next one—was from the university, saying they wanted me to work there, too.

Praising God isn’t a magic bullet. But in times of stress, we need to be reminded to praise. Because when we praise God, we get off the treadmill of life. We shift our focus. We re-center ourselves on the Lord. Prayer does this as well. And that is a challenge we have to repeat daily. Don’t forget to praise the Lord. “Praise the Lord, my soul; all my inmost being, praise his holy name.” (Psalm 103)

It’s hard not to think about Nicodemus in John 3—his late-night conversation with Jesus. When Jesus tells him the starting place of spiritual life is to be born again. Peter is writing to believers who have already experienced this. He’s reminding them: Don’t try to crawl back into your mother’s womb. Don’t crawl back into your old life.

One of my favorite singers is Keith Green. He has a fun song called “So You Wanna Go Back to Egypt.” The lyrics go: “So you want to go back to Egypt, where it's warm and secure?” Of course, Egypt is a metaphor for the old life. And Peter, by reminding the church they’ve been born again, is saying: You are a new creation in Christ (2 Cor 5:17).

The truth is, most believers don’t want to move back to Egypt. But too many of us keep going back just to visit. We say: I just want to go and look around. Then it becomes: I just want to buy a few things. Then: I’ll just spend the night. And before you know it, you've applied for an Egyptian passport. All the while, we undervalue an inheritance that far exceeds anything Egypt—or this world—can offer.

Peter tells us: We have an inheritance that will never perish, never spoil, never fade. It is kept in heaven for you. Undefiled. Unshakable. Eternal. He’s reiterating what Jesus said in Matthew 6: “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth… but treasures in heaven… For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” This inheritance Peter speaks of – imperishable, undefiled, and unfading – isn't just stuff. It's the very promise of eternal life with God, secured for us through Jesus.   

Some of Peter’s readers had lost everything—property, jobs, even families—because they chose to follow Christ. Some were excluded from the marketplace because of their faith. But Peter says: Your salvation isn’t locked to your situation. Your relationship with God is secure. Your hope is secure.

Even when everything around you looks uncertain, your inheritance in Christ is being guarded by God himself. I hate to say it—but suffering is part of what we sign up for when we follow Jesus. He didn’t say, “Pick up your pillow and follow me.” He said, “Pick up your cross.” Peter says we may have to suffer “for a little while,” but even that suffering has a purpose. It’s not random. It’s not wasted. It is refining your faith, like fire purifies gold.

Gold is tested by fire. So is your faith. And Peter says your faith is more valuable than gold. Because gold perishes. But faith? Faith leads to eternal life, a "living hope" because of Jesus' resurrection! Peter doesn't just say 'hope,' but 'living hope.' What makes it alive? It's the resurrection of Jesus Christ! Because He rose, our hope in Him is not dead or stagnant, but vibrant and certain. Just as fire refines gold, these trials refine our faith. They can be painful, but they reveal what's truly valuable and often drive us to depend on God in a deeper way.

Many in the church, especially the health and wealth cult like churches have forgotten about the cross. I do not speak about evil that much. Why speak about evil when we have life to talk about. But I don’t want you to be unaware. We have an adversary. He does not want you to have life and have it in abundance. He wants you to fall on your face. 

But here’s what the enemy doesn’t get: every time you get up after an attack, every time you ask God for grace and forgiveness, it strengthens your faith. I just read that China is going to have stricter rules for Christians specifically. A reporter I trust said, “What the CCP doesn’t understand is that these restrictions will grow the church.” That’s what happens when faith is tested—it grows stronger. We need to be in prayer for believers under persecution. Both in China and in the middle east.

For years, the enemy’s favorite attack on me was getting me to covet. Other people’s gifts. Their property. Their time. Their abilities. Their positions. And I nurtured that sin in my heart. But it wasn’t until I named it—confessed it—that I could start fighting it spiritually. Too many of us are fighting spiritual battles with physical weapons. And then we’re surprised when it doesn’t work. Of course it doesn’t work.

Peter says that hope is one of our greatest weapons in these hidden battles. Years ago, I read about a Duke University study on how long rats could swim. In one experiment, they dropped a healthy rat into a walled-off Olympic-sized pool. It swam a few laps, realized there was no way out, and gave up. But then they tried something new: they added two doors. Just as the rat approached one wall, they’d close that door—but open the other. With that tiny glimmer of hope, the rats swam up to 100 laps. It’s grim—but it proves something: Hope is everything.

But what do you put your hope in? Do we put our hope in the Lord. (Psalm 39:7) Or do we put our hope in money or our abilities. If you put your hope in anything other than the Lord you will find it run out. Isaiah 40:30–31 “Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”

"Concerning this salvation, the prophets, who spoke of the grace that was to come to you, searched intently and with the greatest care…"

In verse 10, Peter points to the prophets of the Old Testament—men like Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel—who were inspired by the Holy Spirit to speak of the grace that was to come. What is remarkable here is that these prophets were given glimpses of God’s salvation, but they didn’t fully understand the complete picture. They longed for the fulfillment of the promise, yet they could only see it from a distance.

Imagine a person standing on a mountain, looking out over a valley. They can see the outlines of the valley’s landscape, but they can’t make out the details. The prophets were like that—they could see the shape of salvation, but the full beauty and clarity only came through Jesus Christ. This reminds us of the importance of longing for what God has promised. Even though we may not fully understand everything He has for us now, we can trust that His grace and salvation are perfect, even if we are only seeing part of the picture.

"Trying to find out the time and circumstances to which the Spirit of Christ in them was pointing when he predicted the sufferings of the Messiah and the glories that would follow."

Here, Peter takes us a step further. The prophets, through the Holy Spirit, were given insight into the future, particularly into the suffering of the Messiah and the glory that would follow. They did not know when or how it would happen, but they faithfully prophesied about it.

This is a profound truth for us as believers today. The same Spirit that moved the prophets is at work in us. We now live on the other side of the cross, and while we don’t know the exact details of God's future plans, we trust that He will continue to unfold His promises in our lives. When the prophets prophesied, they saw through the lens of Christ’s suffering and the resulting glory. They pointed to the cross, and even when they didn’t understand, they faithfully declared God’s will. This serves as a reminder for us that, in our own lives, we may not always understand why we face trials, but we can trust in the hope of glory to come.

"It was revealed to them that they were not serving themselves but you, when they spoke of the things that have now been told you by those who have preached the gospel to you by the Holy Spirit sent from heaven. Even angels long to look into these things."

Now, Peter makes a remarkable statement: the prophets were not serving themselves, but us. The message they preached, the prophecies they delivered, were ultimately for the believers in the New Testament and for us today. The gospel—this good news of salvation through Jesus Christ—was foretold by the prophets but fully revealed through the apostles and preachers of the early church, who were empowered by the Holy Spirit. Peter underscores the privilege we have in this present age, where we have direct access to the fulfillment of the promises the prophets longed for. Think about it – the prophets of old yearned to see the fullness of God's grace that we now experience through Jesus. This incredible gift should fill us with gratitude and a desire to share it.

So, what does this mean for us? First, it means that we can have confidence in our salvation. We are not left in uncertainty, as the prophets were. Christ has come, and His work is complete. Second, it calls us to share this gospel with others. Just as the prophets served us by pointing to Christ, we too are called to live out and proclaim the good news.

As we go forward today, let’s hold fast to the hope we have, knowing that, like the prophets, we too are part of a larger story, one that is still unfolding for the glory of God.

Amen

Discussion Questions 

1. Peter begins with praise even while writing to people in pain. Why do you think praise is so important in the Christian life, especially in times of suffering? How have you seen praise change your perspective during difficult seasons?

2. The sermon emphasizes the difference between general hardship and persecution. How can we support each other (and global believers) who are facing pressure specifically because of their faith in Christ? Can you think of any current examples of this?

3. Peter reminds us that our inheritance in Christ is “imperishable, undefiled, and unfading.” What are some “earthly treasures” that can distract us from valuing this eternal inheritance?

In what ways do you sometimes find yourself wanting to “go back to Egypt”?

4. The image of fire testing and refining gold is used to describe how suffering strengthens faith. Can you share a time when your faith was refined through a personal trial?

What did you learn about God—or yourself—through that experience?

5. Peter calls it a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus. What makes Christian hope different from wishful thinking or optimism?