If you asked me at age 10, “What do you want to be?” I would’ve said, “A major league baseball player.” If you asked me at 18, I wanted to be an architect. At 25, it was a professor. But the more I’ve given thought to it, what I really wanted to be is just like my dad.

We had a shop in our backyard—I remember watching him create and repair. I wanted to imitate his craftsmanship. I also wanted to imitate his character. By watching him, I knew what it meant when he shook someone’s hand and followed through on commitments. He modeled integrity regardless of how unpopular. I learned how to speak with others in conflict by watching him show respect while upholding truth. Even now—with how he honors mom, with how generously he gives his time, with how hopeful he remains in harder times—there are ways I still want to be like my dad.

Peter has spoken to us about a heavenly Father; and he’s a bazillion times better than any earthly father. He is the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ (1 Pet 1:3). For Christians, he’s also our Father. He chose to know us and love us (1 Pet 1:2). He caused us to be born again (1 Pet 1:3). He made us heirs to his inheritance (1 Pet 1:4). But because he’s our Father, we’re also told to become like him. Become like your heavenly Father, the Holy One. Let’s see how this plays out, beginning in verse 13…

¹³ Therefore, preparing your minds for action, and being sober-minded, set your hope fully on the grace that will be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ. ¹⁴ As obedient children, do not be conformed to the passions of your former ignorance, ¹⁵ but as he who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct, ¹⁶ since it is written, “You shall be holy, for I am holy.” ¹⁷ And if you call on him as Father who judges impartially according to each one’s deeds, conduct yourselves with fear throughout the time of your exile, ¹⁸ knowing that you were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your forefathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, ¹⁹ but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot. ²⁰ He was foreknown before the foundation of the world but was made manifest in the last times for the sake of you ²¹ who through him are believers in God, who raised him from the dead and gave him glory, so that your faith and hope are in God.

Peter writes to help sojourners stand firm in God’s grace when suffering in Jesus’ footsteps. To open the letter, he helped us stand firm in God’s grace by celebrating God’s grace. The Father choosing us, the Spirit setting us apart, the Son sprinkling us with his blood, new birth, living hope, unfading inheritance, God’s power and purpose in trial, privileges greater than prophets before or angels above—and all without a single command in verses 1-12. He simply washes us in the grace of God.

Verse 13 begins a new section with several commands. But it’s not disjointed from verses 1-12. That’s why it’s important not to miss how verse 13 begins: “therefore.” Before he ever gets to our doing, Peter celebrates what God has done for us. Other religions begin with do in order that you might be. But Christianity begins with what God has already made you to be; everything else grows from that new status. God’s saving grace is the basis and cause of our obedience. In verses 13-21, we find three commands that structure our passage; and each one grows from the grace of God already given.

Set Your Hope Fully on the Future Grace

Let’s start with the first command in verse 13: “set your hope fully on the grace that will be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ.” What is the grace that will be brought to you? Well, verse 4 spoke of an inheritance that is “imperishable, undefiled, unfading, kept in heaven for you.” Verse 7 explained how our various trials have a divine goal—the tested genuineness of our faith will result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus. In other words, we await a glorious place—the inheritance. We will become a glorious people on the other side of our trials. Best of all, we will see the person of Jesus when he’s revealed from heaven.

So, the grace “that will be brought” refers to the whole package of our final salvation. Our destiny is no longer future wrath because of sin but future grace because of Jesus. In fact, the way it’s worded suggests that this hope is already on its way. That even now it’s coming to us because Jesus rose from the dead.

Therefore, we ought to set our hope there. We often use “hope” with a degree of uncertainty: “I hope he hits a home run,” “I hope it rains in Fort Worth.” But the hope here doesn’t reflect that kind of wishful thinking. It conveys absolute certainty. The future good in view is so certain that it produces rock-solid confidence in the present. That’s why we must set our hope fully in that future grace. Nothing else is this certain.

But what does it look like to have your hope set fully on that future grace? How does that play out in the here and now? Verse 13 says it includes “preparing your minds for action.” Some of your Bibles have a footnote that provides a more word-for-word translation: “girding up the loins of your minds.” It’s a great picture. Back when the men wore robes, to gird up your loins was to reach down and gather up the bottoms and tuck things into your waist band. You could move more quickly and effectively. Today, you might say, “Roll up your sleeves.”

He’s illustrating the state of mind someone will have in the present when their hope is set on God’s future grace. He then tells us how we get our minds ready: “by being sober-minded.” Meaning, we resolve to live in a way that’s sensible, where you’re not controlled by your emotions and fleshly appetites. Your mind is in the right order to act according to God’s word in any given circumstance.

Consider how instructive this is for sojourners in suffering. Isn’t it true that when we experience various trials, one of the first things to go is sober-mindedness? Fears of further loss can take over and leave us scrambling to save ourselves or control others. Worry about the future leads to unstable responses. Threats might cause someone abandon moral principles to escape pain or to pay back evil with evil. Hurt can send us spiraling into seasons of self-pity, apathy, or even fits of rage.

God says here that when we set our hope in the future grace to come, our mindset will be different in trials. It will look like Jesus’ mindset—the one we see, for example, in 2:23, “when he was reviled, he did not revile in return; when he suffered, he did not threaten.” Why? He was entrusting himself “to him who judges justly.” He set his mind on that future hope when God makes all things right; and that created the mental resolve to stay faithful in the present. Or we could turn to Hebrews 12 and how “for the joy set before him, [Jesus] endured the cross, despising the shame.” Joy in God’s presence fueled his faithfulness and gave him a sober mind in loving others.

In what are you setting your hope? This command, “set your hope” is the same word the Psalms like to use when it describes “taking refuge” in the Lord. You heard one of them at the beginning of the service: “let all who take refuge in you rejoice.” Another is “The LORD is my rock and my fortress…in whom I take refuge” (Ps 18:2).

Whatever trial you might be experiencing in the path of obedience—is God your refuge? Is your hope set on the future grace that he’s bringing at the revelation of Jesus Christ? If you were to lose your possessions, would you be assured in your mind that you’ve got a better one in heaven? If the days ahead look uncertain, does your heart find rest in those graces which are certain and unchanging?

One reason we take the Lord’s Supper is that, in sharing this meal, we are making conscious efforts to instill this hope in our thinking—so that when we meet that next trial, we call to mind the grace that will be ours. One reason we need each other, is to help each other remember this hope. That’s why Hebrews says that we not neglect meeting together: God uses our words and our togetherness to help each other think soberly and to keep each other hoping in the grace to come.

Be Holy Like Your Father, the Holy One

The second command comes in verse 15, “be holy in all your conduct.” Everything else in verses 14-16 sets that command in the context of grace. Notice how it says, “as obedient children,” or “as children of obedience.” Ephesians 2:2 says that it’s in our very nature to be like “children of disobedience.” Because of our sinfulness, we are “children of wrath.” But Peter calls us, “children of obedience.”

How’d that happen? Well, if we go back to 1:2, we learn that God changed us. The Holy Spirit set us apart “for obedience and sprinkling with Jesus’ blood.” This obedience was part of God’s grace in the new covenant. The Holy Spirit comes into our lives—he causes us to be born again (1 Pet 1:3)—and instead of children resisting God, he changes us into children who want to obey God. He makes us compliant to the will of our Father. He’s not saying, “Be holy in order to become obedient children;” he’s saying, “Be holy as the children I’ve made you: children of that new obedience.”

He then tells us how to be holy. Negatively, he says, “not being conformed to the passions of your former ignorance.” These are passions we had before coming to know Jesus (1 Pet 1:12). In 4:5, Peter talks about Gentiles living in sensuality, passions, drunkenness, orgies, lawless idolatry. Ignorance was that time when we were darkened in our understanding about morality, truth, justice. We lived however we wanted.

But praise God, Peter calls it a former ignorance. Now, through the gospel of Jesus, they have come to know God himself; and God is holy. So, positively speaking, we should conform ourselves to the Holy One who called us. Going back to the children language of verse 14, we should be like our Father, the Holy One.

The pursuit of holiness is a key part of the Christian life. Just by saying that word, “holiness,” some of you have images of “bunned hair, long skirts, and black stockings,” to use an image from Jerry Bridges.[i] But any true understanding of holiness begins with God. “Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of hosts,” cry the angels in Isaiah 6. There we get a glimpse of what God’s holiness means. He is high and lifted up. God’s holiness is his “majestic otherness,” to use the words of David Wells.[ii] God’s holiness also includes his “moral otherness.”[iii] How did Isaiah respond to seeing God’s holiness in Isaiah 6? “Woe is me…” God’s holiness illumines all. It reveals right from wrong.

So, when you hear holiness, the first thing to consider is God’s majestic and moral otherness, his set-apartness from the world. If we’re now his children, what does that mean for us? We must be like our Father. Because God is distinct and set apart; his children should be distinct and set apart. That is, set apart from the evil world and set apart for the holy Lord.

Now, holiness doesn’t come automatically. We must work at it. It takes serious effort, because our culture pressures you to look just like them. Our culture doesn’t like it when your moral otherness makes their wickedness stand out. That’s why Peter will show in 4:4 how pagans are surprised when you don’t join them in the same flood of debauchery, and they malign you. The world doesn’t like holiness.

You know who else doesn’t like holiness? Self-righteous Pharisees who reduce holiness to a few external do’s and don’ts—it gives them something to boast in, while ignoring a heart for God. The pursuit of holiness begins with a heart captivated by our Father’s holiness; it won’t be content with a holiness fabricated by man. Pursuing holiness is a necessary result of knowing God—loving what God loves, hating what God hates. We must live in a manner that reflects our Father’s moral otherness.

Notice too how Peter grounds our pursuit of holiness in the revelation of God’s character in Scripture. “Be holy in all your conduct,” verse 16, “since it is written, ‘You shall be holy, for I am holy.” That comes from Leviticus; and there are a couple things to note by the way it appears. One place it occurs is Leviticus 11:44. The context is the Lord explaining clean and unclean animals—some Israel could eat; others they couldn’t. God was separating them from the nations for himself.

Then right at the end God explains why he gives Israel such a law: “For I am the Lord your God. Consecrate yourselves therefore and be holy, for I am holy.” Then again in verse 45, “For I am the Lord who brought you up out of the land of Egypt to be your God. You shall therefore be holy, for I am holy.” Notice, the grace of relationship and redemption grounds the command for holiness. Relationship—“I am your God.” Also, redemption—“I brought you out of Egypt,” out of slavery.

The same in 1 Peter. The grace of relationship and redemption grounds the command for holiness. But under the new covenant we enjoy a much greater redemption. Through Jesus’ death on the cross, God brought us out of a much greater slavery, slavery to our sins; and when you’re brought out of that slavery, you start loving what is holy.

Another place it occurs is Leviticus 19:2. This time it begins a new section, “Speak to all the congregation of the people of Israel and say to them, ‘You shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy.” Then he goes on to show how that holiness plays out in the day-to-day. He covers how they ought to relate to mother and father, how to worship in the community, how to care for the poor, how we ought to speak truth and not bear false witness, how to reason frankly with our neighbor. In sum, how to love your neighbor as yourself. In other words, holiness touches all of life. Holiness works itself out in relationships and doing justice and neighbor love.

Hence, Peter also says, “be holy in all your conduct.” Holiness is not simply about what sins you avoid. It’s also about what you commit yourself to for the good of others and the glory of God. Mere isolation and withdrawal from the world isn’t the point. True holiness plays out in the way we talk, the way we work, the way we relate to others, the way we spend our time, the types of entertainment we set before our eyes. Holiness is more about being like God in the world, even as we’re not of the world.

We need to ask ourselves better questions. Not just, “What have I not done to sin today?” but also, “How am I showing what my Father is like?” Not just, “Have I done you any wrong?” but also, “Have I displayed the Father’s generosity, his lavish kindness, his over-the-top hospitality?” God is set apart in every kind of way from the world, not just negatively—in terms of lacking sinfulness and evil—but also positively—in terms of goodness and mercy to others. In all your conduct be holy like your Father.

Sometimes you’ll come across things called personality tests. The better ones might be useful in understanding ourselves or creating better work settings. All of them give us a good laugh. But the problems come when we become, what J. I. Packer calls, “victims of our temperament.” That is, we just yield to whatever personality or temperament we have, even using them as excuses where their weaknesses don’t reflect the character of God. Again, Packer observes that holiness “demands that I not indulge the particular behavioral flaws to which my temperament tempts me.”[iv] Instead, we should be striving to become more like God in every part of our humanity.

This will make you distinct from the world. Our distinctness from the world is also part of our witness to the world. It shows how Jesus truly changes people; our lives are different now. He brings humanity to what it’s supposed to be. Did you know that you can say all the right things about the gospel and still work against it by the way you live? This is why it’s so grievous when reports come out about abuse in the church or plagiarism or embezzlement or sexual misconduct or Christians misrepresenting others. These things are not like our Father. What about us? Are we marked by holiness? Do you want to be like your Father, the Holy One?

Conduct Yourselves with Fear

Moving now to verse 17, Peter recalls once again that God is our Father. But relating to God as Father doesn’t mean he ceases to be our Judge. It says here that he’s still the one “who judges impartially according to each one’s deeds.” Meaning, familiarity shouldn’t become an excuse for evil—to borrow from Peter Davids.[v] If wicked deeds displease God, God’s displeasure in those wicked deeds doesn’t lessen now that you’re his child. He’s still the same Judge; his disposition toward sin is the same.

And based on that fact, Peter states our third command: “conduct yourselves with fear throughout the time of your exile.” In his book, The Joy of Fearing God, Jerry Bridges writes, “There was a time when committed Christians were known as God-fearing people. This was a badge of honor. But somewhere along the way we lost it. Now the idea of fearing God, if thought of at all, seems like a relic from the past.”[vi] David Wells has also observed that since the 1960’s our culture has “exited the moral world in which God was transcendent and holy, and we have entered a new psychological world in which he is only immanent and loving.”[vii]

But Peter challenges us not to reduce God’s character to those things we find more palatable. God judges impartially…even Christians. The appropriate response is to conduct yourselves with fear, meaning that we behold him with reverential awe. It’s the same “fear of the Lord” that Proverbs calls “the beginning of wisdom.”

This fear is not like that of someone who works only because he’s scared silly of punishment. The context is that of a child who’s calling on his good Father. It’s not someone running away from the Judge in panic or toting the line out of fear of being found out. The child in verse 17 is running to God and calling on God as Father. This is the fear of a child who wants to please his good Father and who finds his judgments about good and evil to be perfect and true and good. It’s a fear like that illustrated by C. S. Lewis in the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, when Mr. Beaver says about Aslan, “Safe? Of course he isn’t safe! But he’s good.”

We also spoke some about the new birth in verse 3. Did you know that fearing the Lord is a result of being born again? It belonged to the new covenant promises in the Old Testament. Jeremiah 32:39, “I will give them one heart and one way, that they may fear me forever, for their own good and the good of their children after them.” This is the same fear of the Lord that Isaiah promised would characterize the Messiah: “his delight shall be in the fear of the Lord” (Isa 11:3).

Not only that, conducting ourselves with fear is also the result of our great redemption. Notice how he puts it in verse 18, “knowing that…you were ransomed from the futile ways [or conduct] of your forefathers.” See the connection? “Conduct yourselves with fear…you were ransomed from futile conduct.” Meaning, you had all kinds of conduct that was bad and futile before coming to know Jesus. Back then, you couldn’t conduct yourself in fear of the Lord; you didn’t care. But now, that’s not the case. God ransomed you from that way of living.

Ransom refers to payment being made to loose from captivity. Think Exodus with me. The people were in slavery. No ability to free themselves. Someone greater than the people, someone greater than Egypt—God had to liberate them. But he did it at the cost of the firstborn. Except, he didn’t take Israel’s firstborn. In their place God provided the blood of an unblemished lamb. Their freedom came at the cost of a lamb.

Fast forward to Jesus. Far more serious, we are slaves to sin. We are slaves to the futile ways of our forefathers. When I started the sermon, some of you might not have felt the same ways about your dad. Perhaps your earthly father practiced patterns that were useless, pointless, futile, dangerous to your soul and the souls of others. In your ignorance, you also grew up not knowing any better and perhaps you carried on in similar sins. But that’s not just your story—it’s the story of everybody outside of Jesus. We all have a heritage in Adam that leads to emptiness.

No matter your family background, apart from the grace of God, we’re all enslaved to empty pursuits; and we lack the ability to liberate ourselves. Someone greater than us, someone greater than sin—God has to liberate us; and he did it at the cost of his Son. Jesus is the true Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. Our freedom came at the cost of Jesus’ life. He spilled what Peter calls in verse 18 “precious blood.” More precious than anything this world could offer—Jesus’ blood was of infinite value.

Verses 20-21 say that Jesus “was foreknown before the foundation of the world but was made manifest in the last times for the sake of you who through him are believers in God, who raised him from the dead and gave him glory, so that your faith and hope are in God.” The price that would be paid was not an afterthought. It wasn’t plan B after sin came into the world. Even before the world was made—even before sin messed things up—God planned to give his only Son. There was no one greater. With the payment of his own Son’s death, God ransomed us. He freed us from slavery to sin.

If you’re a Christian today, it’s wholly owing to the grace of God. Through him you are believers in God. You can conduct yourselves with fear, because God has freed you from your sins with precious blood. Jesus’ blood makes you the beneficiary of a plan that stretches from eternity past to future glory. Brothers and sisters, we conduct ourselves with fear not only because God judges impartially, but also because this Judge, as Father, has loved us. How much has he loved us? He gave the most valuable gift we could ever receive, the gift of his own Son.

How would a command to “conduct yourselves with fear” help a sojourner in suffering? It’s clear from verse 17 that we’re currently in a time of exile. We are not yet in the New Jerusalem. We’re somewhat like Daniel in the Old Testament, when he’s got to figure out how to live in Babylon. When you’re living in exile, there are all sorts of other things you can fear; and if those fears control us, it can lead to disobedience.

Consider the fear of your circumstances. Our “various trials” (like he called them in verse 6) might put us through circumstances that are frightening. The fear of losing friends because of a commitment to Christ. The fear of having to endure verbal abuse and ridicule for your faith. The fear of losing your possessions or country. The fear of engaging a culture that’s less safe, that’s less comfortable.

There’s the fear of physical abuse like imprisonment or being deprived of basic necessities by persecutors. There is also the fear of people. Remember how the people of Israel feared the Canaanites—their warriors were stronger and of greater height. Think of the prophet Daniel, and how Nebuchadnezzar threatened him or how others turned him in for continuing to pray. Elsewhere the Bible also speaks about the fear of death; Satan even uses the fear of death to control people.

So many fears in this time of exile; and all of them can tempt us to disobey our Lord. Any one of these fears can pull us away from faithfulness. The only way to endure these fears is to have a healthy fear of the Lord. My daughter Abigail likes a song by Ross King called, “Things That I’m Afraid Of.” The chorus goes like this: “I walk through the Valley of Shadows / And it scared me half to death / But you’re with me everywhere I go / So I don’t give up yet / My fear would surely kill me / If I didn’t know the truth / The things that I’m afraid of are afraid of You.”

Meaning, God is greater than all these lesser fears. So, in our exile, in our various trials, we must conduct ourselves in fear of God and not in fear of our circumstances, losses, people, or even death. Beloved, what are you afraid of? In your time of exile, what frightens you the most? Are there fears hindering you from taking that next step of obedience? God is greater; and he is your Father. He planned your salvation from eternity past. He has brought you to himself with precious blood. He has raised Jesus in glory, so that your faith and hope are in God.

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[i] Jerry Bridges, The Pursuit of Holiness (Colorado Springs: NavPress, 1978), 15.

[ii] David F. Wells, God in the Whirlwind (Wheaton: Crossway, 2014), 104.

[iii] Wells, God in the Whirlwind, 112.

[iv] J. I. Packer, Rediscovering Holiness (Wheaton: Crossway, 2009), 27-28.

[v] Peter Davids, 1 Peter, NICNT (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1990), 70.

[vi] Jerry Bridges, Joy of Fearing God, (New York: WaterBrook, 1997), 1.

[vii] Wells, God in the Whirlwind, 25.