The Currency of Heaven: Sojourning in Fear Text: 1 Peter 1:17-21
Introduction: The Weight of Glory and the Worthlessness of Gold
We live in a flabby and sentimental age. Our Christianity is often a mile wide and an inch deep. We want a God who is a cosmic teddy bear, a divine butler, a celestial affirmation machine. We want a Father, but not a Judge. We want redemption, but we want it to be cheap. We want to be saved from our "futile conduct," but we quite like the traditions of our forefathers, thank you very much, especially when they are comfortable. We want the crown of glory, but we would rather not carry the cross of a holy fear.
Peter, writing to scattered and persecuted Christians, will have none of it. He understands that the only thing that can sustain a believer through real trials is a theology with backbone. The only thing that can make a man stand firm when the world is screaming at him to bow is a right understanding of who God is, what Christ has done, and what it all cost. This passage is a bracing dose of spiritual reality. It is a call to weigh things properly. Peter puts two things on the scales: on one side, all the silver and gold in the world, along with all the cherished, empty traditions of man. On the other side, he places one drop of the precious blood of Christ. And he tells us that one side is corruptible trash and the other is the currency of eternity.
This understanding is what fuels a life of holy fear. Not a cringing, servile terror, but the awe-filled, trembling reverence of a son who knows his father is both infinitely loving and absolutely just. This is the kind of fear that banishes all other fears. If you fear God rightly, you will fear no man at all. Peter is telling these exiles, and us, to get our bearings. We are sojourners, pilgrims, resident aliens. This world is not our home. Therefore, we must live by the laws and currency of our true country. And that means conducting ourselves with the sober gravity that befits those who have been purchased at an infinite price.
The Text
And if you address as Father the One who impartially judges according to each one’s work, conduct yourselves in fear during the time of your sojourn, knowing that you were not redeemed with corruptible things like silver or gold from your futile conduct inherited from your forefathers, but with precious blood, as of a lamb unblemished and spotless, the blood of Christ. He was foreknown before the foundation of the world, but appeared in these 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.
(1 Peter 1:17-21 LSB)
The Father Who Judges (v. 17)
We begin with the foundational reality of our relationship with God.
"And if you address as Father the One who impartially judges according to each one’s work, conduct yourselves in fear during the time of your sojourn," (1 Peter 1:17)
The "if" here is not an "if" of doubt, but an "if" of logical consequence. It means "since" or "seeing that you do." Since you have the incredible privilege of calling the sovereign creator of the universe "Father," certain things necessarily follow. This privilege is not a ticket to casual presumption. It is the basis for holy reverence. The modern evangelical mind often struggles to hold these two truths together. We either have a distant, wrathful Judge, or we have "daddy God" who is always winking at our faults. Peter smashes these caricatures together. The one you call Father is the very same one who judges, and His judgment is utterly impartial.
He "impartially judges according to each one's work." This is not talking about salvation by works. The whole context is about a redemption already accomplished. Rather, this is the judgment of sons. It is the Bema seat, not the Great White Throne. God does not grade on a curve. He does not show favoritism to the pastor over the plumber, or the rich man over the poor man. As our Father, He disciplines us. As our Judge, He will assess our lives, our works, our service, which will be tested by fire (1 Cor. 3:13). The knowledge that our Father is also our impartial Judge should produce in us a profound sobriety.
Therefore, we are to "conduct" ourselves "in fear." This is not the fear of a slave before a tyrant, but the respectful awe of a son who loves and honors his father and would never want to displease him. It is a wholesome, motivating fear of His loving discipline and a deep reverence for His holiness. And this is to characterize "the time of your sojourn." We are pilgrims, passing through. This world is a temporary residence, not our final destination. We are living in a foreign land, and we must live carefully, as ambassadors of our true King, knowing that we will one day stand before our Father and give an account.
The Ransom Price (v. 18-19)
Peter now grounds this call to holy fear in the objective reality of our redemption. The motivation is not just a future judgment, but a past transaction of infinite worth.
"knowing that you were not redeemed with corruptible things like silver or gold from your futile conduct inherited from your forefathers, but with precious blood, as of a lamb unblemished and spotless, the blood of Christ." (1 Peter 1:18-19 LSB)
The word "redeemed" is a marketplace term. It means to be bought back, to be ransomed from slavery. We were all slaves. To what? To our "futile conduct inherited from your forefathers." This is a devastating critique of all human culture apart from Christ. Whether you were a Jew enslaved to the dead traditions of the Pharisees or a Gentile enslaved to the blind idolatry of paganism, it was all a spiritual dead end. It was "futile," empty, worthless conduct. We must see that sin is not just a series of bad choices; it is a bankrupt inheritance, a slavery passed down through generations.
And what was the ransom price? Peter tells us first what it was not. It was not "corruptible things like silver or gold." He picks the two most valued commodities in the ancient world and dismisses them as perishable junk. All the wealth of the world is subject to rust, decay, and inflation. You cannot buy your way out of sin's slavery with it. It is utterly worthless in the divine economy of salvation.
The actual price was something infinitely more valuable: the "precious blood... of Christ." The word "precious" means of surpassing worth. This is the currency of heaven. And Christ is presented as the ultimate Passover lamb, "unblemished and spotless." This points back to the specific requirements of the sacrificial lambs in the Old Testament (Ex. 12:5). Christ was morally perfect, sinless, the only sacrifice acceptable to a holy God. His death was not a tragic accident; it was a substitutionary, atoning sacrifice. His blood, representing His life poured out, was the payment that satisfied the justice of God and purchased our freedom. When we understand the price, we begin to understand the gravity of our sin and the holiness of our calling.
The Eternal Plan (v. 20)
This costly redemption was not a divine afterthought, a Plan B that God scrambled to implement after Adam fell. It was the plan from the beginning.
"He was foreknown before the foundation of the world, but appeared in these last times for the sake of you" (1 Peter 1:20 LSB)
Christ was "foreknown before the foundation of the world." This is more than just God looking down the corridors of time and seeing what would happen. In Scripture, to "know" someone implies a relationship, a choice, an intimate determination. This means the plan of salvation, with Christ as the sacrificial Lamb, was established in the counsels of the Trinity in eternity past. Revelation tells us of "the Lamb slain from the foundation of theworld" (Rev. 13:8). History is not a chaotic series of random events; it is the slow, deliberate unfolding of God's eternal decree.
And though the plan was eternal, its execution was historical. He "appeared in these last times." The incarnation, the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, is the central event of all history. The "last times" began with the coming of Christ. This grand, eternal plan was not some abstract theological exercise; it was done "for the sake of you." God's eternal, cosmic plan of redemption had your name on it. The Creator of the universe set His affectionate, electing love on you before He ever said, "Let there be light." This is a truth that should both humble us to the dust and fill us with an unshakable confidence.
The Foundation of Faith and Hope (v. 21)
Peter concludes by showing how this redemptive work of God becomes the unshakable foundation for our subjective faith and hope.
"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." (1 Peter 1:21 LSB)
Our faith is not a leap in the dark. We are believers "through Him," that is, through Christ. He is the mediator, the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Him. And our belief is in the God "who raised Him from the dead and gave Him glory." The resurrection is the divine receipt. It is the Father's public declaration that the Son's sacrifice was accepted, the debt was paid in full, and death was conquered. The ascension, where the Father "gave Him glory," is the coronation of the victorious King. He is now seated at the right hand of the Majesty on High, ruling and reigning over all things.
And what is the result of this? "So that your faith and hope are in God." Our faith is not in our own abilities, our own righteousness, or our own feelings. Our faith rests on the solid, historical, objective facts of Christ's death and resurrection. Our hope is not a flimsy wish; it is a confident expectation. Because God raised Jesus from the dead, we know that He will also raise us. Because God gave Jesus glory, we know that we too will share in that glory. Our faith for the present and our hope for the future are not anchored in the shifting sands of our experience, but in the immovable rock of God's mighty, redemptive acts in history.
Conclusion: Living the Redeemed Life
So what does this mean for us, here and now? It means we must live lives that are congruent with the price that was paid for us. If we have been bought with the precious blood of the Son of God, we cannot live as though we belong to ourselves. We cannot continue in the futile, empty ways of the world. We are citizens of another kingdom, and our lives must reflect that reality.
This means we cultivate a holy fear. We begin our day acknowledging the Father who is also our Judge. We walk through our day as sojourners, with a light grip on the things of this world, knowing they are all corruptible. We fight sin not because we are trying to earn our salvation, but because we know the infinite cost of our redemption from it.
And we do all this with an unshakeable hope. Our hope is not in politics, or in our retirement accounts, or in our own strength. Our hope is anchored in an empty tomb and an occupied throne. Because Christ was foreknown, died, was raised, and was glorified, our future is secure. Therefore, let us conduct ourselves in fear, the kind of fear that casts out all other fear, and let us walk as the redeemed children of God, knowing the price that was paid for our souls.