1 Pe 4:12-16, 5:6-11

4 May 2008

7th Sunday of Easter

“Resistance is not Futile”

(or, “Expect Resistance”)

            Think of the last time you went on a trip.  For some of us, that may be a recent event.  As for others of us, it may be difficult to remember just when that was!

So let’s go on a trip.  When you get to the hotel, you find that they have no record of your reservation.  Following fifteen minutes of debate with the clerk, then the manager, it’s discovered that your name was misspelled.  So after profuse apologies from them, you go to your room, where you discover that the vertical hold on the TV is messed up.

            Later on at the restaurant, you’re served a delectable meal—a meal, however, which has you up all night in the bathroom.  When morning finally dawns, your plans for sightseeing are cut short when the streets fill up with workers who have gone on strike.  As soon as their parade is over, a torrential downpour begins.  The rain lets up at about dinner time, and you make sure to go to a different restaurant.  Regrettably, not long after you arrive, the place fills up with a busload of noisy kids.

            The next couple of days bring the loss of a wallet, another bout of nausea, and an encounter with a bird flying overhead, which relieving itself, has unfortunate aim.  Now, upon returning home, would you tell your friends that your trip was blessed?  Our scripture reading in 1 Peter might give you pause!

            Notice how it starts off:  “Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that is taking place among you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you” (4:12).  It looks like something a tad more serious than poor hotel service or a bad meal at a restaurant is going on.  The author (some say it’s Peter, some say it’s one of his students—I’ll just call him “Peter”) even expects severe treatment.  Don’t be surprised…as though something strange were happening.

            Indeed, his message to the church is actually to “rejoice insofar as you are sharing Christ’s sufferings, so that you may also be glad and shout for joy when his glory is revealed” (v. 13).  But then, as our British friends would say, there’s the rub!  “If you are reviled for the name of Christ, you are blessed” (v. 14).  I suppose a vacation gone bad doesn’t qualify!

            Peter takes things a step further and issues words of caution.  There’s something else that doesn’t qualify:  suffering for doing things that are immoral and/or illegal.

Thinking of the warnings in verse 15 reminds me of something I’ve told Banu on more than one occasion.  I want to tell you a “knock knock” joke.  For this to work, you’ll have to play along!  “Knock knock.”  Who’s there?  “Nunya.”  Nunya who?  “Nunya business!”

This isn’t about being painted—or being guilty—of being a murderer, thief, or a criminal.  No, this is about being, as the NRSV puts it, “a mischief maker.”  This comes from a peculiar, and interesting, Greek word, allotriepiskopo" (allotriepiskopos).  It literally means “overseer of others,” but that’s just where the fun begins!  The word only appears once, and there are all kinds of spins put on it—all kinds of ideas about exactly what Peter’s getting at.

While the Revised English Bible says “meddling in other people’s business” (the inspiration of my “knock knock” joke), the New Jerusalem Bible gives us “informer.”  If we consult the Anchor Bible, we get “depositary of foreign assets.”[1]  One writer says that could be a person who receives money from others in order to buy votes in an election.

For a member of a community undergoing serious persecution—say, a Christian—that might be a very enticing temptation.  Why not do what you can to get somebody elected who’s not going to go after you?[2]  If that means breaking the law, then so be it!

I’ll mention just one more possible meaning of this crazy word, allotriepiskopos.  Retired Anglican minister Bryan Findlayson defines it as “meddler,” and says it’s “probably directed to those Christians who try to impose their ethical views on their neighbors.  ‘Do gooders’ [a term I haven’t heard for a while] leave themselves open to the resentment of those unworthy mortals who have to live next to them.”[3]

So there’s a variety of nuances to this word, but I think if you boil it all down, there’s a sense of getting in other people’s affairs.  There’s the idea of inflicting something unwanted on others:  be it ourselves, our politics, or our ideas.  None of that is particularly commendable behavior.  Understand, I’m not talking about sharing needed information; I’m talking about obnoxious interference.

And as we look ahead to the second part of our text in chapter 5, we can see that it’s the opposite of what Peter calls for.  Read verse 6.  “Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, so that he may exalt you in due time.”  It’s been noted:  that “does not mean losing one’s voice…Rather it is about taking one’s place, being oneself, without becoming obsessed with one’s power.”[4]  If we’re pushing our agenda in unethical ways, that leaves very little room for genuine humility—or for God to be the one who exalts us.

What’s often at the root of this behavior is fear.  And it’s especially the fear that remains unknown and unexamined.  Again, it’s the opposite of what we see in verse 7.  “Cast all your anxiety on him [that is, God], because he cares for you.”  It can be pretty difficult to do that if we’re not in touch with what’s motivating us.

As we keep reading, we’re provided with not only the how to do that, but also the why.  Here’s the how:  “Discipline yourselves, keep alert.”  And now here’s the why:  “Like a roaring lion your adversary the devil prowls around, looking for someone to devour” (v. 8).  Still, we need not give in.  As verse 9 tells us, we can and should “resist him.”

As I thought about this idea of resistance, Star Trek fan that I am, I couldn’t help but consider perhaps the greatest threat ever to appear in that series of shows:  the Borg.  I won’t go into excessive detail that would bore those of you who don’t care about Star Trek.

To put it simply, the Borg is a collective of thousands of different species who have been assimilated.  Their ships look like hives; they have drones and a queen.  They think as one.  The Borg always speak in the first person plural; individuals say, “We are the Borg.”  Their favorite line is, “Resistance is futile.”

My reasoning for including the Borg is more than the similarity of their threat to Peter’s command in verse 9.  It’s more than “resistance.”  A topic like the Borg provides plenty of cultural, political, and spiritual commentary.  With their agenda of assimilation, they could present an embodiment of that Greek word, allotriepiskopos.

One might wonder:  do we demonstrate Borg-like behavior?  That could be at the national level; that could be at the personal level.  Do we impose our, as the Borg put it, “quest for perfection” onto others?  Do we give the message that “resistance is futile”?

We’ve been told by Peter to expect resistance as Christians.  If we suffer as a Christian, “do not consider it a disgrace, but glorify God because [we] bear this name” (4:16).  But if we suffer for doing wrong, especially the kind I’ve been talking about, then we act against God’s Spirit of creativity.  We squash those impulses in others (not to mention, in ourselves) that are open to God for change.

On the Sacred Space website this past week, one of the scriptures for reflection was at the end of Matthew 13, where Jesus returns to his hometown and teaches in the synagogue (vv. 54-58).  The people are saying to themselves, “This is the carpenter’s son.  We know his family.  Who does he think he is?”

There was the comment, “The people who listened to Jesus thought that they knew him…Yet they made the mistake of thinking that they knew everything there was worth knowing about him; they had him summed up and had come to their conclusions.  In bringing our lives before God, we ask God to enlighten us, to help us look at our situations afresh.”

So far, so good.  But then:  “We even try to imagine God’s view of those we live with, of our situations, of ourselves.  When we come to conclusions, it may be difficult to go forward.”[5]  That last sentence really nails it.  When we come to conclusions, it may be difficult to go forward.  If you think about what those words mean, it becomes pretty clear.  If we’ve reached the conclusion—if we’ve reached the end of the line—then there’s nowhere left to go.

I think we do more of that than we realize.  We shut down the dialogue, so to speak, between God and ourselves.  We shut down dialogue among ourselves.  And we certainly shut it down toward those to whom we feel safe in saying, “Resistance is futile.”  Deal with it!

I began by describing a vacation gone bad.  In verse 9, where Peter tells us to resist the devil, he reminds us of our “brothers and sisters in all the world [who] are undergoing the same kinds of suffering.”  For most of us, most of the time (notice that I am qualifying my phrases), we have it better than they do.  Many times, we as the church in America have behaved like the Borg.  We have tried to assimilate others.  We have squashed creative impulses that would do us a world of good.

It’s unavoidable that we will come to conclusions.  We will find ourselves locked into positions, out of which we can see no escape.  We will suffer for it, and we will make sure other people suffer for it, too.  But in our life together, we can help each other see when we’re locked in those tight spaces; we can also help each other break free into limitless possibilities.

            That’s when we can, with a full heart and soul, hear these words of Peter’s:  “After you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, support, strengthen, and establish you.  To him be the power forever and ever.  Amen” (vv. 10-11).

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