The Footsteps of the Shepherd Text: 1 Peter 2:21-25
Introduction: Two Ditches, One Road
The Christian life is a narrow road, and the devil, who has no creativity whatsoever, has only ever had two strategies. His first is to get you off the road and into the ditch on one side, and his second is to get you off the road and into the ditch on the other. When it comes to the cross of Jesus Christ, the two ditches are these: the ditch of sentimentalism, which sees Christ only as an example to be imitated, and the ditch of antinomianism, which sees Christ only as a substitute to be admired. The first ditch turns the gospel into a moralistic pep talk, and the second turns it into a get-out-of-jail-free card.
The first error, which we could call liberal moralism, says, "Look at what Jesus did for you, now you go and do likewise." This sounds noble, but it is a crushing burden. It presents the sinless life of Christ as a ladder we are to climb, without ever dealing with the fact that our legs have been broken by the fall. An example without atonement is condemnation. It is like telling a bankrupt man to imitate the fiscal habits of a billionaire. The advice may be sound, but it is utterly useless to him.
The second error, which we see in some forms of lazy evangelicalism, says, "Jesus did it all, so you don't have to do anything." This turns the grace of God into a license for lethargy. Christ's substitution is seen as the whole story, and any talk of following in His steps is treated as a threat to the gospel of grace. This view correctly identifies that we are saved by His work for us, but it fails to see that we are saved in order to begin the work He has prepared for us.
But the apostle Peter, like a good shepherd, keeps us on the road. He will not let us swerve into either ditch. In this magnificent passage, he holds together these two glorious truths: Christ is our substitute, and Christ is our example. In fact, He can only be our example because He was first our substitute. His substitutionary death is what purchases our pardon, grants us new life, and empowers us to even begin to take the first faltering step in His footsteps. To separate these two is to tear the gospel in half. The atonement is the engine; imitation is the road the car travels on. Without the engine, you are going nowhere. Without the road, you are just making noise.
The Text
For to this you have been called, since Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example that you should follow in His steps, WHO DID NO SIN, NOR WAS ANY DECEIT FOUND IN HIS MOUTH; who being reviled, was not reviling in return; while suffering, He was uttering no threats, but kept entrusting Himself to Him who judges righteously. Who Himself bore our sins in His body on the tree, so that having died to sin, we might live to righteousness; by His WOUNDS YOU WERE HEALED. For you were continually straying like sheep, but now you have returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls.
(1 Peter 2:21-25 LSB)
Our Calling and Christ's Example (v. 21)
Peter begins by grounding our suffering in our fundamental calling as Christians.
"For to this you have been called, since Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example that you should follow in His steps..." (1 Peter 2:21)
The "this" refers back to the previous verses, which speak of enduring unjust suffering patiently. Peter says this is not an unfortunate accident; it is our vocation. "To this you have been called." Suffering for the faith is not an elective; it is a required course. If you sign up to be a soldier, you should not be surprised when you are issued a rifle and sent toward the sound of the guns. If you are called to be a Christian, you are called to suffer.
But this suffering is not meaningless. It is patterned after the suffering of Christ. He "suffered for you." This is the substitutionary heart of the gospel. He did not suffer merely as a martyr, but as our representative and our sin-bearer. The "for you" is crucial. It means in your place, on your behalf. This is the engine.
And because He suffered for us, He left us an "example." The Greek word is hupogrammos, which literally means a writing copy, like the kind a teacher would give to a child learning his letters. The child traces the letters the teacher has already written. Christ has written out the perfect copy of a life of faithful suffering, and we are called to trace it. We are to "follow in His steps." The path to glory is a path that leads first to Calvary. We are not asked to walk a path Christ Himself was unwilling to walk. He has gone before us, leaving footprints for us to place our own feet in.
The Sinless Sufferer (v. 22-23)
Peter then describes the character of Christ's suffering, which qualifies Him to be both our substitute and our example.
"WHO DID NO SIN, NOR WAS ANY DECEIT FOUND IN HIS MOUTH; who being reviled, was not reviling in return; while suffering, He was uttering no threats, but kept entrusting Himself to Him who judges righteously." (1 Peter 2:22-23 LSB)
Here Peter quotes from Isaiah 53, the great prophecy of the Suffering Servant. Christ's qualification as our sacrifice was His absolute sinlessness. "He did no sin." This was not just an external conformity to the law; it was an internal purity. "Nor was any deceit found in His mouth." His words were as pure as His actions. This is what made His sacrifice acceptable. A sinner cannot die for other sinners; that is just the blind leading the blind into the pit. It had to be the spotless Lamb of God.
This sinlessness is the foundation of His substitution, but it is also the standard for our imitation. And what did this sinlessness look like under pressure? It looked like non-retaliation. "Being reviled, was not reviling in return." When the foulest insults were hurled at the purest man who ever lived, He did not respond in kind. When He was suffering unjustly, "He was uttering no threats." Think about this. He had every right to threaten. He could have called legions of angels. He could have spoken a word and unmade the universe. But He remained silent.
How was this possible? The text gives us the secret: He "kept entrusting Himself to Him who judges righteously." Jesus did not take vengeance into His own hands because He knew that vengeance belongs to God. He trusted in the perfect justice of His Father. He knew that every injustice would be perfectly settled at the final judgment. This is the key to our own endurance. When we are wronged, we are tempted to retaliate because we have a justice deficit. We feel that if we do not act, justice will not be done. But the Christian relinquishes the gavel. We entrust our case to the righteous Judge, knowing that He will miss no details and make no errors. This frees us to love our enemies, because we know they are not getting away with anything.
The Great Exchange (v. 24)
Verse 24 is one of the clearest statements of penal substitutionary atonement in the entire New Testament.
"Who Himself bore our sins in His body on the tree, so that having died to sin, we might live to righteousness; by His WOUNDS YOU WERE HEALED." (1 Peter 2:24 LSB)
Notice the emphasis: "He Himself." This was a personal, voluntary act. "Bore our sins." He did not just bear the consequences of our sins; He bore the sins themselves. This is the language of imputation. Our sin was legally credited to His account. Where did this happen? "In His body on the tree." This was a physical, historical event. The cross was not a symbol of God's love; it was an instrument of divine wrath, where our sins were punished in the body of our substitute.
But the verse does not end there. The atonement has a purpose, a telos. He bore our sins for a reason: "so that having died to sin, we might live to righteousness." The cross accomplishes two things. First, it brings about our death to sin's penalty and power. Because Christ died for sin, we are considered to have died with Him. The legal claim of sin upon us is broken. But second, it inaugurates our new life. We are not just saved from something; we are saved for something. We are saved to "live to righteousness." The cross does not just pardon us; it transforms us. It is the gateway not just to heaven, but to holiness.
Peter concludes the verse with another quote from Isaiah 53: "by His WOUNDS YOU WERE HEALED." Our spiritual disease of sin was terminal. There was no cure we could find or invent. The only remedy was the suffering of the physician. He took our sickness upon Himself so that we could be made well. This is the great exchange of the gospel. He took our sin, our shame, our death, and in return He gives us His righteousness, His glory, and His life.
From Straying Sheep to Sheltered Souls (v. 25)
The final verse summarizes our condition before and after this great work of Christ.
"For you were continually straying like sheep, but now you have returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls." (1 Peter 2:25 LSB)
This is the story of every one of us. "You were continually straying like sheep." Sheep are notoriously stupid animals. They are directionless, defenseless, and prone to wander into danger. Isaiah says, "All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned, every one, to his own way" (Isaiah 53:6). This is a perfect picture of humanity in sin. We are lost, foolish, and utterly unable to find our way back to the fold.
"But now you have returned." How did this return happen? The sheep do not find their way back. The Shepherd finds them. Jesus is the Good Shepherd who lays down His life for the sheep (John 10:11). He seeks and saves the lost (Luke 19:10). Our return is not the result of our clever navigation, but of His gracious rescue.
And what do we return to? We return to the "Shepherd and Overseer of your souls." The word for Overseer is episkopos, from which we get our word "bishop." He is the one who watches over us, protects us, provides for us, and guides us. Our souls, which were once wandering and exposed, are now under His sovereign and benevolent care. We are no longer spiritual orphans, but cherished sheep in the flock of the Almighty.
Conclusion: Walk This Way
So what does this mean for us as we face insults, injustice, and suffering? It means everything. It means our suffering has been redefined by the cross. It is no longer a random, meaningless tragedy. It is a calling. It is a hupogrammos, a copy to be traced.
When you are slandered for your faith, remember that He was reviled and did not revile in return. Entrust your reputation to the one who judges righteously.
When you suffer loss for the sake of the gospel, remember that He bore your sins in His body on the tree. Your suffering is a participation in His, a fellowship of sharing in what He endured for you.
When you feel lost and alone, remember that you were once a straying sheep, but have now returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls. You are not alone. He is watching over you.
The central point is this: the power to imitate Christ's example flows directly from the reality of His substitution. Because He was healed of our wounds, we can live to righteousness. Because He is our Shepherd, we can follow in His steps. The cross is not just the event that saves us from the old life; it is the power that equips us for the new one. He did not just die to get you out of hell. He died to make you like Himself. So let us fix our eyes on Him, the Shepherd of our souls, and let us walk in the footsteps He left for us.