Faithful Exiles — 1 Peter 3:13-16

Introduction

I’ve had the honor of traveling to Africa seven times to preach and serve. And every time, I’ve felt overwhelmingly safe—except twice. One of those times still makes my stomach tighten when I think about it. I was riding with a gentleman from Johannesburg to Swaziland, a four-hour drive through stretches of desolate African bushland dotted with small towns. As we passed through one of those towns, he stopped at a bank, left me in the car, and went inside. I decided to wait outside on the curb.

Almost immediately, I noticed something unsettling. The town fell silent. People stopped in their tracks. Every pair of eyes turned and locked on me. I was the only foreigner in sight—and it was painfully obvious. I felt exposed. Out of place. Vulnerable. A long way from home.

God’s Word

And that’s exactly the kind of feeling Peter is speaking into. Peter writes to Christians scattered across Asia Minor—men and women who were beginning to feel the heat of persecution, people who stuck out, people who didn’t quite fit in, people who were being stared at and singled out. He calls them “exiles.” Strangers. Outsiders. Not because of their skin, but because of their faith.

And his message is clear: This world isn’t your home—but it is your mission field. You’re not here to survive it. You’re here to witness in it. So today, we’re going to see: How to Live as Faithful Exiles: (headline)—not fearful strangers.

“Suffer” well.

1 Peter 3:13–14 “Now who is there to harm you if you are zealous for what is good? But even if you should suffer for righteousness’ sake, you will be blessed. Have no fear of them, nor be troubled”

Matthew 5:10 ““Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

When I was in junior high, name-brand clothes were becoming a big deal—especially Polo shirts. I had bought a navy knockoff version called “Knights of the Roundtable.” The logos were almost identical if you didn’t look too closely. So I wore it proudly, and people even complimented it—until science class. One of the more popular kids noticed something was off. He kept pressing until he walked over, flipped my collar inside-out, and exposed the truth. My shirt was fake. I was humiliated. In that moment, it felt like my life was over.

But it wasn’t. That memory, while embarrassing, is just a blip on the radar now. It was a superficial wound and a reminder of how easily small things can spiral us out. Time has a way of exposing what really matters.

Our harm is “superficial.”

Peter makes a similar point in 1 Peter 3:13–14: “Now who is there to harm you if you are zealous for what is good?” He’s not saying that doing good will always protect you from suffering. Sometimes it does, but not always. His deeper point is this: if you suffer for doing what is good—namely, living for God’s will and Christ’s Kingdom—you’re not ultimately harmed. Any suffering you face is temporary. God is sovereign over evil, and in His hands, even your wounds are just blips on the radar. Flesh wounds He promises to heal. Superficial harm.

So Peter wants to give us perspective. He wants us to expect suffering, but not be undone by it. That’s how we suffer well. He gives us two expectations: First, expect to suffer for righteousness’ sake. Few things highlight how broken our world is more than the fact that doing good can bring pain. We shouldn’t be shocked by this.

Our harm will be “blessed.”

Second, expect to be blessed when you suffer for doing good. As Jesus said, “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the Kingdom of heaven” (Matt. 5:10). In other words, Jesus came to reset the economy. Right now, doing what’s right might cost you dearly. But in the coming Kingdom, it will be richly rewarded. Peter’s phrase “even if you should suffer” acknowledges present uncertainty. But the promise “you will be blessed” anchors us in future certainty.

It’s like the economy reset after high school. Back then, logos, looks, and popularity defined value. But as time goes on, things like character, discipline, and emotional maturity become the real currency. If you keep living according to the high school economy, you’ll live a shallow, stunted life.

And the same is true in your walk with Christ. If your decisions are shaped by what’s safe or socially acceptable, your life will be defined by fear and appearances. But if you live according to Kingdom values—believing that suffering for righteousness’ sake leads to blessing—then you’ll see present pain for what it is: superficial. And you’ll live with hope rooted in something far more substantial and eternal.

This is what it means to live for the upside-down crown. It means living for the Kingdom’s economy, not the world’s. It’s the young married couple that prioritizes having children over having fun. It’s the retired senior who retires to live more fully for Christ than themselves. It’s the single who sees their singleness as an opportunity to focus on the mission rather than their disappointments. It means accepting the short-term costs of righteousness because you’re convinced of the long-term gain. It’s shaping your family’s values not around worldly success, but around eternal blessing. It’s seeing disadvantage now as superficial, and Jesus’ promises as ultimate.

So let me ask you: What economy are you living for? Where are you hoping to find your return on investment? Exiles don’t live for the country they’re in. They live for the country they’re waiting for.

Because if it’s in the Kingdom, you can suffer well as an exile today. And, you can..

“Sleep” well.

1 Peter 3:14–15 “But even if you should suffer for righteousness’ sake, you will be blessed. Have no fear of them, nor be troubled, but in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect”

Isaiah 8:12–13 ““Do not call conspiracy all that this people calls conspiracy, and do not fear what they fear, nor be in dread. But the Lord of hosts, him you shall honor as holy. Let him be your fear, and let him be your dread.”

(Show capybara picture) Capybaras fascinate me. They’re the world’s largest rodents, and you can often find pictures and videos of them strolling calmly into a sea of alligators to get a drink of water—without a care in the world. It looks almost cartoonish, like a fluffy teddy bear walking straight into a death trap. And yet, the alligators leave them alone.

That’s exactly the kind of picture Peter paints for Christians. We may live in a world filled with enemies, but we’re not called to be one. We’re not adversarial people. We’re the kind of people who live in a sea of alligators with enough confidence to walk through the middle and enough peace to still enjoy the water. That is, we may be surrounded by those who want to “harm” us, but we still sleep well and without “fear” because we know our position is secure.

When Peter tells us to “have no fear of them, nor be troubled,” he’s reminding us that any threat we face is superficial. These enemies can’t deal a fatal blow. He’s quoting from Isaiah 8—a moment when Judah was terrified. Israel and Syria had formed an alliance to destroy them, and Judah was tempted to strike its own deal with Assyria. But Isaiah tells them what Peter tells us: No, no, no—fear the Lord! “Let him be your dread, and you’ll have nothing to dread.” Don’t make alliances with fear. Build your alliance with the Lord, and He will be Savior.

The “size” of your Savior sets the “scale” of your suffering.

In other words, Peter is saying: Remember the power and victory and love of your Savior, and then go sleep like a baby knowing that you’re going to be just fine! You see, the size of your suffering determines the scale of your suffering. What or who you see as big determines what or who you see as small. If your suffering looks big, your Savior will look small. But if you see your Savior as big—mighty and victorious—your suffering shrinks into perspective. His sovereignty reframes your reality and calibrates your heart to rest.

I think of people like Linda Cockrell. Linda has lost a baby, an adult child, and her husband in the prime of his life. And, in a life like that, it would be easy to see yourself as a victim of your own life. And, I know Linda would be the first to tell you that she’s had her bad days and her bad seasons. But, I’ve watched her run like a first responder to a fire whenever there’s someone in our church family who has experienced a big loss. And, I’ll tell you: Linda won’t be remembered for a life of loss. Linda will be remembered for a legacy of love. Why? Because she sees her Savior’s victory so large that it puts her suffering into perspective. The size of your Savior sets the scale of your suffering.

And, that’s why the command Isaiah and Peter give is literally: “Sanctify the Christ Lord.” In other words, the command is to savor your Savior. See him to size so that you can see your suffering to scale. When we look around and see only alligators—when our imaginations run away with our troubles—our hearts can only be reset with peace and recalibrated with hope when they dwell on and obsess instead over the sovereign lordship of a resurrected King. He has made YOUR enemies HIS footstool. There’s not a sparrow that falls to the ground that He doesn’t know or care about. And, YOU are IN HIM! That’s the perspective your heart needs. Savor your Savior so that you can see him so big that your problems look small.

The wellness of your “life” doesn’t set the wellness of your “soul.”

(Put “It is well” on slide) “Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come, let the blest assurance control, that Christ hath regarded my helpless estate, and hath shed HIS blood for my soul. Oh, it is well with my soul.” Even when it is not well with my life, it is well with my soul.

The alligators may try to intimidate me at work. They may threaten to devour my children. They may take away every shiny crown I’ve attained in this life. But they never get my heart. They never get my life. That belongs to Christ, and so “It is well with our souls” even when it is not well with our lives.

So yes, we can rest. We can breathe. We can sleep in peace, Church—because our Lord is big and mighty, and that makes our problems small. To be a faithful exile: suffer well, sleep well, and…

“Speak” well.

1 Peter 3:15–16 “but in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect, having a good conscience, so that, when you are slandered, those who revile your good behavior in Christ may be put to shame.”

Deuteronomy 6:7 “You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise.”

I find it true that behind every struggle and hardship there is an opportunity. But it can be really difficult to put our pity parties on hold long enough to realize it. I remember back in 2020 when COVID hit, and we had to shut down in-person church. Immediately, I spiraled into “what-ifs.” I was calculating how long I could go without a salary and whether I should cash in my retirement. Then, one day during prayer, the Lord interrupted my pity party. It was like I heard Him audibly: What you see as an obstacle to your plans is really an opportunity for my plans. I mean, woah. That’s like being struck by lightning. And it’s probably the best leadership lesson I’ve ever learned.

Peter is making that exact point in verses 15–16. He foresees hard days coming for the Christians in Asia Minor. Suffering had likely already begun and would reach fever pitch under Nero. He anticipates Christians on trial for their faith, surrounded by gossip and suspicion. That is, their suffering wasn’t so they could throw a pity party. It was so they could have a platform. When questioned in court, by neighbors, or family, it gave them the perfect opportunity “to make a defense to anyone who ask(ed) (them) for a reason for that hope that (was) in them.”

Our community needs a winsome Church that thoughtfully engages the spiritual and intellectual dilemmas of our day. A church that can give a reasonable “defense…for the hope that is in us.” I want you to notice the words “always” and “anyone.” We’re to “always” be ready to make a well-reasoned case for our faith to “anyone.” That’s really reminiscent of a passage I mentioned last week — Deuteronomy 6. Deuteronomy 6:7 “You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise.” Now, Deut 6 is especially about families. But everywhere we go and with everyone we meet, we’re meant to have everyday conversations about the “hope that is in us.” We’re always ready to answer their questions, face their issues, and offer the hope we have.

I point that out for a couple of reasons. This is the preeminent passage on Christian apologetics — the “defense” of the faith. The Greek word for “defense” is apologia, which is where we get the term. But we usually think of apologetics as some dramatic confrontation with an atheist professor or a debate with a top-tier thinker. It’s not. The primary place for apologetics isn’t the academy or a debate stage. It’s your kitchen table. It’s the water cooler. It’s not as intimidating as we think — and it’s even more urgent. Apologetics isn’t just for brainy folks debating other brainy folks. It’s for your kids and your friends and your classmates. It’s how we share the hope that’s in us.

When Peter says to defend the faith with “gentleness and respect,” he’s teaching us that tone is a “defense” in itself. “Angry Christian” or “harsh Christian” or “disrespectful Christian” are oxymorons. They’re the opposite of “the fruit of the Spirit,” and they sabotage our message.

Show them Christianity is “plausible.”

Blaise Pascal said that to reach skeptical people, we must show them the beauty and rationality of the gospel. If they don’t believe, our first responsibility is to show them that Christianity is a plausible faith — to put a rock in their shoe that makes them think. We may not convince them it’s completely satisfying, but we must show them it’s not anti-reason. It’s a reasonable faith — and far more intellectually satisfying than any other solution.

Then, we must…

Show them Christianity is “desirable.”

This gets to the tone of “gentleness and respect.” We must not only show them that Christ is rational — we have to show them He’s better than every other way. I was struck by something Richard Dawkins said not long ago. He’s a rabid atheist, but he admitted in an interview that he’s discovered he’s a cultural Christian. With the Islamification of the UK, he prefers a Christian society because it’s more beautiful. That is, he’s catching a glimpse — even if he disagrees with the foundation — of the desirability of the faith. No faith has a more beautiful heritage — albeit not unblemished — than Christianity. We must become ambassadors of that beauty.

And, finally, Pascal says that we must…

Show them Christianity is “actual.”

It’s not just plausible and desirable — it’s real. That’s Good News. Yes, we’re elect exiles — but we’re also an extraction team behind enemy lines. We’ve been sent to pull out every son and daughter God has claimed and bring them home.

It’s like Dunkirk in World War II. In 1940, Allied soldiers were trapped, surrounded by the enemy. Then came the rescue — not just from warships, but from fishing boats, ferries, and paddle steamers. Ordinary people crossed dangerous waters and rescued 338,000 soldiers — what Churchill called “the miracle of deliverance.”

That’s us. We’re the ordinary people in fishing boats. We’re not the strongest or most impressive, but we know the way. And we speak — not to win arguments, but to rescue hearts. With gentleness. With respect. With the beauty and clarity of hope.

So, speak. Speak well. Show them the gospel is plausible, desirable, and actual. Show them it’s real. Because it is. And the mission is on.