Author: Admin

Sermon: Sunday, 8th February, 2026
Speaker: John Johnstone
Scripture: Acts 18:1-17

The Christian life is often described in the Bible as a race. It’s not a short sprint but is more akin to a marathon. Like a runner in a marathon, there are times when we ‘hit the wall’. What does it mean for a runner to ‘hit the wall’? It means that all the exhaustion and pain and doubt all converge together and we hear that voice in our heads: ‘It would make sense to give up now.’ You want to quit. Why do most carry on? It’s because of the encouragements along the way, like the voice of your coach or the clapping of the crowd or refreshment at a water station. Perhaps we don’t talk about it as honestly as we should, but many are tempted to stop being involved in God’s work. Listen to the words of the great leader Joshua in : ‘Alas, Sovereign Lord, why did you ever bring this people across the Jordan to deliver us into the hands of the Amorites to destroy us? If only we had been content to stay on the other side of the Jordan!’   (Joshua 7:7)

This morning, I would like us to consider the apostle Paul, and a time he seems to ‘hit a wall’, at the start of his ministry in Corinth. We are not told explicitly that he wants to give up, but it is clear that running the race has become extremely difficult. The discouragements seem to be piling up. How will God deal with his servant? As we look together at Paul’s discouragement and then the encouragements he receives, I hope it will do 2 things- we will become more realistic in our view of the Christian life as one which is really tough, but we will also be reminded of encouragements which we can also focus on in order to help is to keep on running and serving the Lord.

1. Paul’s discouragements

We read in verse 9 that Paul receives a vision from Jesus which says to him: ‘Do not be afraid; keep on speaking, do not be silent’. This suggests to us that Paul was indeed afraid about his new work in Corinth and that he was tempted to stop the work of proclaiming Jesus as Saviour and King and was tempted to stop urging people to place their trust in him. We also remember his first letter to the church in Corinth when he writes in ch 2 v 3: ‘I came to you in weakness with great fear and trembling’. Sometimes I think we wrongly picture Paul as some kind of superhero who sure, experienced beatings and shipwrecks but just kept bouncing back up, like some kind of Weeble wobble. Do not believe it. He was an ordinary man who carried many scars of ministry. Let’s consider some of the tough things he was contending with.

First of all, there’s just the fact of how tough ministry is. Gordon Keddie: ‘Their regular hardships were the ordinary things: the long dusty miles trudging the highways of the Roman world, the sore legs, the tiredness, the sickness, the discomforts, the indifference of happy pagans, the suspicion of proud Jews, the sheer effort of going on and being faithful followers of Jesus Christ.’

There is also the place itself- Corinth. Corinth was situated on the Isthmus of Corinth, a narrow neck of land with 2 harbours, one on the east and one on the west. Between the harbours was a 3 ½ mile long road, where ships could be dragged on wooden logs. This made Corinth a hub of world trade and it grew wealthy as a result. It had a huge population; some estimate it at around 200,000 people. It is fair to say that it was a spiritual disaster zone. It was a centre for the goddess Aphrodite, the goddess of love and so there were around 1000 shrine prostitutes who would ply their trade at night. Corinth was so well-known for its sexual immorality that there was even a verb ‘to Corinthianise’ somewhere, which meant a person had lost any sense of sexual morality. Do you think it was easy ministering there? Would he not have been daunted at the thought of evangelising such people? I am sure many of us can relate to that today in our own culture which is also full of idolatry and sexual immorality. Most in Scotland do what is right in their own eyes, and not in the Lord’s eyes.

Paul must have felt spiritually jaded following his time in Athens, the place he had just left. He experienced only a little spiritual fruit there. And now he has to start afresh in Corinth on his own.

As he normally did in a new town or city, Paul began witnessing to the Jewish people. How did that go? We read: ‘4 And he reasoned in the synagogue every Sabbath, and tried to persuade Jews and Greeks. 5 When Silas and Timothy arrived from Macedonia, Paul was occupied with the word, testifying to the Jews that the Christ was Jesus. 6 And when they opposed and reviled him, he shook out his garments and said to them, “Your blood be on your own heads! I am innocent. From now on I will go to the Gentiles’.

Paul is a man who has met the risen Jesus and whose life has been transformed by him. In love, Paul wants to reach his own people the Jews and tell them about Jesus. That’s why we want to tell our friends about Jesus! However, he faces great opposition and resistance and this is not an easy thing to deal with. Paul makes the dramatic gesture (v6) of shaking the dust off his clothes, a sign that he was not responsible for their hardness to the message of Jesus and that their blasphemous response would have serious consequences. It is so discouraging when preachers preach and see very little change in people’s lives, whether in terms of conversions or direct opposition to the gospel.

Remember too that Paul is working as a tent-maker through the week and so he must have been physically exhausted combining a 9-5 job with the weighty task of evangelism. This also suggests Paul might have run out of money and so was forced to work on two fronts at once.

All of these discouragements remind us that the Christian life is far from easy. It is a battle. We need to expect discouragement and when we talk to people about Jesus, whether at home, work or in the community, we need to expect opposition. This is normal and should not catch us by surprise.

It would be easy for us to look out at Fife and see the 99% of people who do not know Jesus and just feel like giving up. Here’s a question to help us as we think about that. How did God view Corinth and how does God view Fife? Does he just see a place of moral darkness that we should just forget about? V10 is a window into the heart of God: ‘I have many in this city who are my people’. There were many in Corinth and in Fife too who have an inner yearning to know who God is and how we can get to know him. They long for meaning and purpose in their lives. And ultimately, this meaning and purpose come from the gospel. And God is determined to seek them out and find them. And God is going to use Paul to reach them. He will use us to reach Fife. This is how God works.

2. The encouragements which keep Paul going

We all need encouragement in our work. Even Jesus did. At the start of his ministry, God the Father encourages him at his baptism, telling him: ‘You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased (Mark 1 v11).’ Paul needed encouragement and we too need it in order to keep on going. How does the Lord encourage Paul here?

Encouragement through friendship. Although arriving in Corinth alone, the Lord provides Paul with work, a place to live and also deep and meaningful friendship with Aquila and Priscilla, with whom Paul becomes partners in ministry. We cannot underestimate this. Even more than that, Silas and Timothy arrive from Macedonia, probably with a financial gift enabling Paul to give up his tent-making and focus on preaching and teaching. Perhaps there is a principle here that Christian workers are not meant to be on their own. After all, when Jesus sent out the 72 we read in Luke 10 v1: ‘After this the Lord appointed seventy-two others and sent them two by two ahead of him to every town and place where he was about to go’. I am so pleased there’s a core team in Leven Free Church, and that it is not just Geoff on his own. We should not be isolated in ministry.

The Lord also encourages us with gospel fruit. When Paul moves away from his ministry in the synagogue he does not stagnate; he moves next door to the home of Titius Justus. He now has a new ministry base. God wonderfully works in the life of Crispus, the synagogue ruler, and his family.

And there is more! We read (v8): ‘…many of the Corinthians who heard Paul believed and were baptised’. These are same people who were so tangled up in sexual immorality and idolatry. But God is merciful. God is clearly at work. We can also see these things today in our own churches. God has saved people in this church and in Leven- someone in Leven even in the last few days. God is at work. This really does put a spring in our step and reminds us that God is changing people.

But the greatest encouragement in this passage has to be the timely vision which God gives to encourage Paul to keep going in the work (vs 9-10): 9 One night the Lord spoke to Paul in a vision: ‘Do not be afraid; keep on speaking, do not be silent. 10 For I am with you, and no one is going to attack and harm you, because I have many people in this city.’

God promises Paul his presence. I will be with you. This is the greatest promise any of us can have. But is this promise just for Paul? No! It is for all Christians. Hebrews 13 vs 5-6 speaks to all Christians, whatever their situation might be: 5 Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have, because God has said, ‘Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.’ 6 So we say with confidence, ‘The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid. What can mere mortals do to me?’ And we know that Jesus promises at the end of Matthew, that as ordinary people like us make disciples, we go and share the gospel with this promise: ‘19 Therefore go and make disciples of all nations…And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.’ Does that encourage you?

Many people want to shut Christians up about Jesus. They say again and again ‘there is no such thing as truth, just your truth’. But that absolute statement is wrong in itself. Some will talk about any taboo subject, but will not discuss the gospel. But many others are willing to speak about these things. God says to us today: ‘Do not be afraid; keep on speaking, do not be silent’. He wants us to tell others just how much Jesus has done for us. And when we face hassle and opposition (and we will) he promises to be with us. That ought to give us confidence and resilience as a church family. He wants us to open our Bibles up with people who do not know the Bible and chat with them. We cannot do this on our own strength, but we can with God with us. Keep praying for people and keep talking with people about the Lord.

Let’s end with the thrilling promise Paul receives (v10): ‘..because I have many people in this city’. God is encouraging Paul by revealing to him many people are going to become Christians, even in this decadent city. God will do it and he will use his people. Paul now knows he will not be killed or prevented from preaching in Corinth, because it is God’s plan to save many people there. And that is exactly what happened. This promise energises the discouraged and tired apostle, giving him renewed zeal in his gospel labour. It reminds me of Jesus’ words in John 10 vs 27-29: ‘27 My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. 28 I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand. 29 My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father’s hand’.

Does God say to us today: ‘I have many people in Fife’? I don’t think that is a stretch. I believe that there are many people in Fife who belong to the Lord, but do not know it yet. God might well use us, through our prayers, through our example and through our words (all 3 things) to bring them to faith. Jesus promises that some of the seed will fall on good soil and grow. The LORD promises Abraham that his spiritual descendants will be as numerous as the stars in the sky. What does this mean for us? It means that there are people waiting to hear the gospel, and when they hear it, God will awaken them. Ask Martin in Leven as it just happened to him. Ask Daniel who was here in KFC. God uses our prayers and uses our witness. Let’s keep going in sharing Jesus with an expectation, an expectation that God will save his people. What an encouragement!

Sermon: Sunday, 3rd August, 2025
Speaker: Neil MacDonald
Scripture: John 3:1-21

For years now chat shows have been a popular type of TV programme. Chat show hosts aim to get their guests talking freely so that they reveal something of themselves and let the audience see what makes them tick. Something that makes the Gospel of John different from the other Gospels is the extended discourses, or conversations, it records for us. John wants us to hear Jesus talking. He doesn’t tell us everything he knows about Jesus. Instead he selects just a handful of events and records them in great detail. There are several conversations which reveal to us the heart of Jesus and how he understood himself.

A curious individual

Here in chapter 3 we have the first of these conversations, Jesus’ conversation with Nicodemus. In the opening verses we’re introduced to a curious individual. Nicodemus was a Pharisee and a member of the Jewish ruling council. He was an ultra-orthodox Jew. He belonged to the party which stood for strict adherence to God’s law. He was a rabbi and a man of influence and standing in the community.

Nicodemus had witnessed Jesus’ ministry and was impressed. He realised Jesus was no ordinary Jewish rabbi. He’d come to the conclusion that he was ‘a teacher who has come from God’: no one could perform the miracles he did unless God was with him. Jesus clearly aroused Nicodemus’ interest, and he wanted to find out more. And so he came to see Jesus at night.

Nicodemus may have come by night because he didn’t want people to know he was interested in Jesus. Perhaps coming at night was the only way to get Jesus on his own for the kind of serious and unhurried conversation he wanted to have with him. But I suspect the main reason John mentions when the meeting took place is that he sees a symbolic significance in it. In his writings John speaks again and again about light and darkness. Darkness stands for sin and wickedness; light speaks of purity and righteousness. In his Gospel, John tells us how Judas left the gathering in the upper room to betray Jesus to the authorities; he writes, ‘As soon as Judas had taken the bread, he went out, and it was night.’   (John 13:30) It was dark when Judas left the company of Jesus and the other disciples, but the physical darkness which surrounded him was as nothing compared with the spiritual and moral darkness which engulfed his soul.

Nicodemus wasn’t in the desperate situation Judas found himself in, but when he came to see Jesus he was still in darkness, spiritually speaking. Although he was a rabbi and no doubt kept the law of God to the best of his ability, he was still in spiritual darkness; he was still a sinner cut off from God. It’s possible to be very religious and yet in spiritual darkness. But Nicodemus was curious. He was prepared to acknowledge Jesus was a teacher come from God: he could see that God was with him. But he needed to see that Jesus was even more than that. And so Jesus spoke to him.

A vital experience

Jesus’ response to Nicodemus’ initial comments is uncompromising: ‘I tell you the truth, no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again.’ (John 3:3) The Jews of Jesus’ day were looking for what they called ‘the kingdom of God’. Some of them understood the kingdom in a political sense: they looked forward to a day when they would be delivered from bondage to Rome and would have their national independence restored under the rule of God’s Messiah. Others put more stress on the personal, religious side of things. For them the kingdom of God meant the achievement of moral perfection through obedience to God’s law. As a Pharisee, Nicodemus probably understood the kingdom of God in both ways. The Pharisees sought to prepare the way for a political kingdom by their personal dedication to a religious kingdom. By obeying the law they tried to be the true people of God preparing the way for the Messiah.

We might have expected Jesus to congratulate Nicodemus on his theological credentials and upright way of life. But that’s not what he does. Instead, gently but firmly, he says, ‘No one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again.’ He tells Nicodemus that, without the experience of rebirth, he cannot hope to see the kingdom of God. That would have come as a shock to a devout Jew like Nicodemus. He would have presumed his place in the coming kingdom was assured by virtue of his race and law-keeping. In the eyes of other people he had impressive credentials as far as God was concerned. But however ‘good’ Nicodemus appeared, Jesus clearly did not think he was good enough to share in the kingdom of God. For that he needed to be born again. He needed a new nature. He needed radical transformation from the inside out.

Nicodemus is taken aback. He asks: ‘How can a man be born when he is old? Surely he cannot enter a second time into his mother’s womb to be born?’   (John 1:4) He seems to understand Jesus’ words literally as if he were speaking about a second physical birth. And the very idea strikes him as absurd, as indeed it is. Jesus has to explain that what he is speaking about is a spiritual rebirth which can only be achieved supernaturally. ‘Very truly I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless they are born of water and the Spirit. Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit.’   (John 3:5-6)

The reference to water and the Spirit probably echoes the words of the prophet Ezekiel. While we may not readily pick up on that, Nicodemus would have done, for he was thoroughly versed in the Old Testament scriptures! In his prophecy Ezekiel refers to water and the Spirit. The Lord promises: ‘I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you will be clean… I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.bAnd I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees…’   (Ezekiel 36)

The prophecy speaks of the coming Messianic age, when there will be a new experience of cleansing and a new experience of the Spirit. Men and women will be given new hearts and new spirits. Jesus is telling Nicodemus that the day of cleansing and power which Ezekiel anticipated has now come. That’s because the long-awaited Messiah has come in the person of Jesus himself. Spiritual renewal is now possible by the power of God’s Holy Spirit. This spiritual renewal is supernatural from first to last. It’s nothing short of miraculous. Human nature cannot evolve naturally into the life of the kingdom of God. There is discontinuity between sinful human nature and the new nature required for entry into the kingdom of God. But God’s Spirit has the creative power to enable an individual to make that quantum leap into a new world.

The new birth is supernatural. It’s beyond human control and beyond human knowledge. But it’s not impossible. To illustrate this, Jesus points Nicodemus to the wind. He says, ‘The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.’   (John 3:8) In Greek and Hebrew the word for ‘wind’ is the same as the word for ‘Spirit’. There’s a kind of elaborate pun here. Jesus is in effect saying, ‘Nicodemus, you cannot control the wind, you can’t even see it, but that doesn’t stop you experiencing its effects at first hand. In the same way, you can’t control or fully understand the work of the Holy Spirit, but that doesn’t mean you can’t experience its effects. You can see the effects of his intervention in people’s lives.’

A little boy once asked a sailor the question, ‘What is the wind?’ ‘The wind?’ replied the sailor, ‘I don’t rightly know what the wind is; but I can hoist a sail.’ That’s pretty much what Jesus is saying to Nicodemus.You don’t have to know how the Holy Spirit creates new life in people. It’s miraculous and mysterious. But you can experience it. You can enjoy the benefit of it. You can hoist a sail. And so Jesus says to Nicodemus, ‘You shouldn’t be surprised at my saying, ‘You must be born again.’   (John 3:7) Notice that word ‘must’. Jesus doesn’t say ‘may’; he says ‘must’. ‘You must be born again.’ Being born again isn’t a spiritual extra for the super-keen. It’s a spiritual necessity.

The 18th Century evangelist George Whitefield was once asked by his sponsor why he was always preaching on the words, ‘You must be born again.’ Whitefield’s reply was simple: ‘Madam, because you must.’ In the most literal sense of the word, this is a vital experience, because it’s a matter of life or death.

You may have a lot in common with Nicodemus. You’re religious. You’re educated. You’re a pillar of the community. Even so, Jesus says to you, ‘You must be born again!’ Or you may be as different from
Nicodemus as chalk from cheese. You’re no scholar. You wouldn’t claim to be a particularly good person. Jesus says the same thing to you: ‘You must be born again.’ For, as he says to Nicodemus, ‘… no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again.’   (John 3:3) It’s a vital experience.

A unique person

‘How can this be?’ Nicodemus asks. To this Jesus replies, ‘You are Israel’s teacher, and do you not understand these things? I tell you the truth, we speak of what we know, and we testify to what we have seen, but still you people do not accept our testimony.’   (John 3:10-11) Nicodemus thinks his problem is that he can’t understand Jesus’ teaching. What Jesus is bringing him round to realise is that that isn’t his real problem. His real problem is that he has an inadequate view of who Jesus is. That has been his problem right from the beginning of the conversation. Remember what he said: ‘Rabbi, we know you are a teacher who has come from God.’ That was a flattering enough comment in its own way; but it was also rather patronising. ‘We know…’ Presumably Nicodemus was referring to himself and at least some of his fellow Pharisees. Jesus now echoes the plural with which Nicodemus had introduced himself. ‘We speak of what we know, and we testify to what we have seen.’   (John 3:11) In other words; ‘Your problem, Nicodemus, is not that you can’t understand what I am saying, but that you don’t think highly enough of me to believe that I know what I’m talking about.’

When Jesus speaks about the things of God, he offers first-hand knowledge. It’s divine revelation of a quite unique kind. ‘We testify to what we have seen.’ That being so, what matters most is not our ability to understand, but our willingness to believe. ‘I have spoken to you of earthly things and you do not believe; how then will you believe if I speak to you of heavenly things?’   (John 3:12) Jesus has used the analogy of the wind to explain the work of the Spirit to Nicodemus and he has struggled. But there are many aspects of the revelation Jesus brought for which there’s no earthly analogy. There are heavenly realities which defy comparison to anything Nicodemus has ever experienced. If Nicodemus can’t trust Jesus when he tells him about the way of the wind, how will he trust him when he tells him about the way of salvation?

And so Jesus discloses to Nicodemus who he is and why he has come. He describes himself in verse 13 as ‘the one who came from heaven – the Son of Man’. He has come down from heaven and is also the Son of Man, the one the prophet Daniel speaks about who will win final victory and rule for ever. In verse 16 Jesus goes on to call himself ‘the one and only Son’, the unique Son of God. Nicodemus needs to realise the greatness of his person. He needs to see just who he is.

Jesus also tells Nicodemus why he came. He says, ‘God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.’   (John 3:17) He is God in human form, God’s Son come on a rescue mission. And then there are the well-known words: ‘God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.’   (John 3:16) In these words Jesus roots his mission in the love of God the Father. Out of love for a lost humanity he sent his Son into the world to become its Saviour. We see how great God’s love is from the fact he loved the unlovely. He loved a world which had rebelled against him and was organised in opposition to him. We also see how great God’s love is from what it led him to do. He was moved to extravagant action: he gave his one and only Son. He had only one Son but he freely gave him up for sinners like us.

Claims such as Jesus makes here are ‘heavenly things’. They can be known only by revelation and appropriated only by faith. Is faith really such a difficult thing? Nicodemus initially seems to have found it so. But perhaps he needn’t have done. Consider these words; ‘Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the desert, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life.’   (John 3:14-15)

Jesus is referring here to an incident which took place while the people of Israel were making their way between Egypt and the promised land of Canaan. The people had rebelled against God and he had sent a plague of poisonous snakes into their camp to chasten them. In their desperation they confessed their sin and cried out to Moses to provide some remedy for the venom. The Lord told Moses to make a bronze snake and put it on a pole: any Israelite who looked at that snake would be healed. And that’s what happened. The Israelites couldn’t have understood how a bronze replica of a snake could take the bite of the real thing away. All they could do was take Moses at his word and believe: they had no other choice. But it was enough.

Jesus is, in effect, saying that it’s the same for Nicodemus, and indeed for each of us. ‘One day soon, Nicodemus, you will see me lifted up on a cross, just like that snake in the desert. You will not be able to understand it, at least not fully. But all you have to do is to trust me enough to believe that I know what I’m doing. For I tell you that every man and woman who looks to me on that cross conscious of their sin and failure, aware of their need of salvation, knowing they need the mercy of God to deliver them, will find rescue in that look, rescue in that faith. More than that, they will find the life of the age to come – the new life of the kingdom of God that we have been talking about.’

Nicodemus’ question had been, ‘How can this be?’ The question he should have been asking was, rather, ‘Who can this be?’ For, in Jesus, he had come face to face with a unique person.

A critical verdict

Jesus says of himself; ‘Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because he has not believed in the name of God’s one and only Son.’   (John 3:18) Jesus is saying that a person’s destiny is determined by whether he or she believes in him. The new birth is the work of the Spirit, but we have the responsibility to believe in God’s one and only Son.

Forgiveness and eternal life are freely offered to us if we do. For those who do not, there is condemnation. Jesus says: ‘This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but men loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil.’   (John 3:19-20) The appearance of the light in the person of Jesus forces everyone to make a choice. Tragically, in an astonishing act of self-destruction, multitudes refuse the light and continue to embrace the darkness. That’s because they don’t want to have their sin exposed. They would rather stay in the dark than move into the light and admit what they’re really like. And so, by refusing the light they compound the condemnation which already hangs over them because of their sin.

Spiritual blindness, says Jesus, is a culpable blindness. It’s not that we can’t see the light, but that we will not see it. ‘This is the verdict: Light has come into the world but men love darkness.’ That’s a critical verdict.

Nicodemus was a curious individual, but his curiosity wasn’t enough. Jesus told him about a vital experience he needed to have: he needed to be born again, he needed a radical transformation from the inside out. Jesus then pointed to his own uniqueness: ‘God sent his Son into the world to save the world.’   (John 3:17) And finally Jesus made Nicodemus aware of the critical verdict: condemnation for those who don’t believe and forgiveness for those who come to the light and believe in God’s one and only Son. Nicodemus came to see Jesus by night. I wonder if he left him with light dawning in his heart.

And what about us? As we have eavesdropped on this private conversation, have we seen our need of being born again, have we seen the uniqueness of Jesus’ person and work, and have we come to the light and believed in God’s one and only Son?

‘God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.’   (John 3:16)

Sermon: Sunday, 15th June, 2025
Speaker: John MacPherson
Scripture: 1 Peter 1:13-21

What does it mean to live as a Christian in a world that doesn’t share your convictions? A world where Christian beliefs can feel alien, maybe even unwelcome. A world where faith in Jesus doesn’t get you applause but raises eyebrows.

That’s exactly the kind of world Peter was writing to. Scattered across the Roman Empire, these early Christians were beginning to feel the pinch of living as strangers in their own towns — misunderstood, maligned, and tempted to shrink back. But Peter writes to remind them who they really are, and how to live in light of that. And Peter tells us exactly why he wrote this letter. He says: ‘I have written to you briefly, encouraging you and testifying that this is the true grace of God. Stand fast in it.’   (1 Peter 5:12)

In other words, the whole letter is a call to see the gospel clearly and to stand firm in it — to keep living in light of who God says you are, even when it’s hard.

The first 12 verses of 1 Peter are like a soaring hymn of praise. Peter lifts their eyes to the breathtaking realities of what God has done for them in Christ. God has chosen them, caused them to be born again into a living hope, secured for them an imperishable inheritance, and is guarding them by His power until that final day. Even their sufferings, Peter says, are not meaningless but refining their faith. And though they haven’t seen Jesus, they love Him. These are truths so profound that even the angels long to look into them!

Now, in verse 13, Peter says, ‘Therefore’ — because all this is true, here’s how you must live. It’s the classic New Testament pattern: the indicative comes before the imperative. Gospel identity before gospel lifestyle. You ARE different — so BE different. That’s the heart of this whole letter, and it’s how we’ll structure our time this morning. If you remember nothing else, remember this: You are different, so be different, to make a difference.

If you belong to Christ, you are an elect exile. You don’t fit in here anymore. So don’t try to. Instead, live in a way that shows the world what God is like. That’s the flow of this whole passage. And in the verses before us today (1 Peter:13–21), Peter gives us three clear commands — three ways to live differently as God’s people in the world.

1. Set your hope fully on future grace

Peter begins: ‘Therefore, with minds that are alert and fully sober, set your hope on the grace to be brought to you when Jesus Christ is revealed at his coming.’   (1 Peter 1:13)

In other words: focus on your future. Set your hope – not vaguely, not partly – but fully on the grace that will be ours when Christ returns. No backup plans. No half measures. All our eggs in this basket. It’s a challenging instruction that makes us ask, ‘What am I setting my hope on for the future?’ Are we pinning our hopes on career success, finding ‘the one’ true love, getting a dream home, raising the perfect family, or finally going on that once-in-a-lifetime holiday? It’s so easy for us as Christians to get caught up hoping in the same things the world hopes in. The world hopes in them – but Peter says Christians are different. Don’t settle your heart on what won’t last. Lift your eyes to eternity.

So how do we do that? Peter gives us two means: alert minds and sober thinking. The ESV (English Standard Version) helpfully renders it ‘preparing your minds for action’ – literally, ‘girding up the loins of your mind.’ It’s a funny picture. Imagine people in ancient times wearing long, flowing robes – great for keeping you cool in the Middle Eastern heat, but terrible for running or fighting because you’d trip over them. To ‘gird up your loins’ meant to bunch up that long robe and tie it up around your waist, so your legs are free to run. Peter applies that imagery to our minds: roll up your mental sleeves, tuck in any loose, trailing thoughts – be ready for action. This is deliberate. Intentional. Don’t let your thoughts drift into daydreams or distractions. Fix your attention on God’s truth. Keep reminding yourself: ‘Jesus is coming. My future is with Him.’ That’s something we do together, too – at church, in small groups, at the prayer meeting, over coffee. Keep pointing one another to what is unseen, to what is eternal, to what is coming.

And then Peter says: be sober-minded. Not just free of alcohol – but spiritually clear-headed. Because just as literal drink dulls our senses, the world’s values can numb our spiritual reflexes. We can easily grow drowsy toward the things of God – especially in seasons of pressure or pain. Have you felt that? When life gets hard, and you’re tempted to retreat into comfort – or when stress drives you to put your hope in money, affirmation, or control. That’s the subtle pull of spiritual intoxication. Peter is saying, ‘Don’t get drunk on cheap dreams that can’t last, don’t get drunk on temporary comforts, don’t get drunk on Netflix, nostalgia, or the next best thing…’

Let me give one example. Many Christians long for marriage – and rightly so. But it’s easy to believe the world’s message that romantic love is ultimate. I’ve watched friends – strong believers – drift. They began by hoping for a godly spouse. But when that didn’t happen in their preferred timing, they gave their hearts to whoever paid attention. Some ended up in relationships that took them away from Christ. What happened? A good desire became a ruling one. A lesser hope displaced a greater one. Slowly, they started sipping from the world’s cup — absorbing its message that romance is ultimate, that fulfilment lies in finding ‘the one.’ But that message dulled their judgment and pulled them off course.

Peter’s saying: be careful what you’re drinking. What are you taking in, day after day? The world offers an endless cocktail of false hopes — ‘You’ll be complete if only you have this.’ But sip long enough, and you’ll find yourself spiritually drowsy, drifting from the true hope. Instead, fill your heart with God’s promises, and especially His Future Grace. That word ‘grace’ reminds us that what’s ahead is not earned, but freely given. It’s guaranteed because of Jesus – His resurrection secures it. Every other future is uncertain. Only one is certain.

Let me ask: what dream has captured your heart for the future? Is it something less than Christ? If so, why? Whatever it is, I can guarantee it’s far less wonderful and far less secure than the hope of heaven. Friends, let’s do what Peter says – lift our eyes from the here and now, and fix them on that glorious day when Jesus is revealed. When your mind starts to wander toward lesser hopes, catch yourself and refocus. He’s coming back. Keep that reality in the forefront of your thinking. The more we set our minds on that grace-filled future, the more strength and joy we’ll have to persevere in the present.

2. Be holy like your Father

Peter’s second exhortation flows naturally from the first: ‘As obedient children, do not conform to the evil desires you had when you lived in ignorance. But just as he who called you is holy, so be holy in all you do.’   (1 Peter 1:15)

If the first command focused on our hope, this one focuses on our conduct. Before we knew Christ, we were in spiritual ignorance – we didn’t know better, so we just chased our desires. But NOW, by God’s mercy, that’s not who we are anymore! We’ve been given a new life and identity. Peter says: ‘Don’t let your new life be shaped by old desires.’ Now, that’s not easy. Wouldn’t it be great if, once you became a Christian, sin just disappeared? But the truth is, our old habits cling on. Daily, we face a choice: indulge or resist?

As someone once said, ‘Kill sin, or it will kill you.’ It might sound intense, but it’s true – unchecked sin can wreak havoc in our lives. So we can’t afford to be tame or casual about it, we have to take it seriously. Sometimes that means real repentance: naming the sin, asking God for help, and making changes – even drastic ones. Maybe you need accountability. Maybe you need to confess to someone. Don’t hide it – sin thrives in the dark, but it weakens in the light. Remember: Jesus died to redeem you from that old life. It no longer owns you.

But holiness is more than just saying ‘No’ to sin – it’s saying ‘Yes’ to God. Peter puts it simply: be holy in all you do, just as your Father is holy. To be holy is to be distinct, morally pure, set apart for God. Peter’s quoting Leviticus here – God’s call to Israel after saving them from Egypt: ‘Be holy, because I am holy.’   (Leviticus 11:45) They were to live differently because they belonged to Him. And so do we. We’re God’s children now, and the family likeness should be growing in us. So don’t just avoid sin – actively pursue Christlikeness. Let God’s character shape your life.

Think about God’s attributes that we can imitate in daily life – His kindness, His honesty, His patience, His generosity, His compassion. To be holy is to let those qualities be evident in us. Holiness is not about ticking boxes or rule-keeping – it’s about becoming more like the most beautiful person in the universe.

That might feel overwhelming – holy in all you do? Every moment of every day? But here’s the key: think about today. Don’t stress about the next forty years of resisting sin. Just ask: How can I honour God today? ‘Lord, help me obey You today.’ And then do the same tomorrow. One faithful step at a time. Holiness isn’t about being dry or joyless. Holiness is becoming more like our Father. Think of someone whose character inspires you – whose humility or gentleness or generosity makes you think, ‘I want to be more like that.’

Now imagine becoming like the One who is the source of all that is good – God Himself! That’s what holiness is. It’s not about rule-following – it’s about relationship. When God says, ‘Be holy,’ He’s inviting us to share in His goodness. He’s saying, ‘Come close. Live like Me.’ And by His Spirit, we actually can. Now of course, we’ll stumble. There’ll be moments this week when we don’t reflect our Father. But that’s when we come back to Him in repentance. The same grace that saved us also trains us to live holy lives.

Maybe even now, the Spirit is bringing something to mind – some way in which you’ve been conforming to the world. Don’t ignore it. Don’t brush it off. Bring it to the cross. Confess it and ask for God’s help to change. You might even need to take a sledgehammer to a specific sin – removing the sources of temptation, setting up accountability, whatever it takes. Yes, sin is serious – but God’s grace is greater. He’s given us everything we need for a life of growing godliness. So, remember who you are. You belong to a holy God. You are different. So be different. Day by day, choose to be like your Father in Heaven.

3. Fear God until you finish

Peter’s third command is; ‘Since you call on a Father who judges each person’s work impartially, live out your time as foreigners here in reverent fear.’   (1 Peter 3:17)

Now let’s be honest — that phrase ‘fear God’ can feel confusing or off-putting. What does it mean to ‘fear’ someone we’re also meant to trust and love? Some Christians ignore the idea completely, picturing God more like a comforting grandfather or gentle therapist. But that can breed flippancy — a God who never says ‘No’ who never gets taken seriously. Others emphasise God’s holiness so heavily that they picture Him as cold or stern — someone to keep your distance from. But the Bible paints a richer picture. ‘Let us worship God acceptably with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire.’   (Hebrews 12;29)

Reverence. Awe. Yes, He is our loving Father. But He is also the holy Judge — utterly pure, infinitely glorious. We must hold both truths together. Think of a teenager slouched on the couch, eyes on his phone, barely grunting one-word answers to his dad.’
Hey, how was your day?’ – ‘Eh.’
‘Anything interesting happen? – Dunno.
‘Can we talk?’ – [Big shrug].
That indifference shows a lack of proper respect for the father. And sometimes, don’t we treat God like that? A brief prayer, a hurried song, but no real reverence or weight to His words.

So, what is the right kind of fear? There is, in the Bible, both ungodly fear and godly fear. Ungodly fear is what Adam and Eve felt when they hid — fear of punishment, wanting to run away. If you’re outside of Christ, that fear is appropriate. But if you belong to Jesus, there is no condemnation. That fear is gone.

Godly fear, however, is something entirely different. Rather than driving us away from God, it draws us toward Him in worship. This fear is not dread but reverence, being deeply moved by who God is: His holiness, power, justice, and astonishing love. It’s trembling not because you’re terrified, but because you’re amazed. One helpful definition I’ve heard is that the fear of the Lord is a mixture of awe, veneration, honour, and yes, a healthy sense of trembling before His greatness. It means we take God with utmost seriousness.

Godly fear doesn’t say, ‘God might crush me.’ It says, ‘God is so glorious, how could I take Him lightly?!’ It leads not to distance but to worship. It’s a love-soaked awe that shapes how we live. That’s Peter’s point. You call on God as Father — and He is your Father! But don’t forget: this Father is also Judge. He watches how we live, impartially. So live the whole of your life, in every setting, in reverent fear. Not just in church. In your studies, your friendships, your home, your work, your marriage, your retirement. Ask: ‘Is there anywhere I’ve been living as if God isn’t watching? Anywhere I’ve treated His word as optional?’ Reverent fear won’t let us compartmentalise obedience. It won’t let us say, ‘God can have Sundays, but not my relationships… not my finances… not my online habits.’ Godly fear means no corner of our lives is off-limits to Him — not
because we’re scared of punishment, but because we love and honour Him too much to treat His commands lightly.

Peter gives us two powerful reasons to live in godly fear… First, he reminds us of the price God paid to rescue us. ‘For you know that it was not with perishable things such as silver or gold that you were redeemed from the empty way of life handed down to you from your ancestors, but with the precious blood of Christ, a lamb without blemish or defect.’   (1 Peter 1:18-19)

The Son of God — sinless, spotless — gave His life to free us. That’s the value God places on you. That’s the cost of your forgiveness. Think about that. When we’re tempted to take sin lightly, Peter says: ‘Remember the cross. Remember what it cost God to save you.’ When we remember that our forgiveness and new life cost Jesus everything, it makes you pause, doesn’t it? How could I shrug at sins that Jesus suffered to rescue me from? Knowing the price of our redemption should deepen our reverence for God. It wasn’t cheap; it was infinitely costly. God must be immeasurably holy and just if sin required such a sacrifice – and immeasurably loving and merciful to provide that sacrifice Himself.

Godly fear flourishes when we keep the cross in view. We realise, ‘Wow, Lord, you did this for me… I owe you everything. Let me never insult your grace by living as though sin is no big deal.’

Second, Peter points us to the plan of God and our secure hope in Him. ‘He was chosen before the creation of the world, but was revealed in these last times for your sake. Through him you believe in God, who raised him from the dead and glorified him, and so your faith and hope are in God.’   (1 Peter3:20)

The redemption accomplished through Jesus was no accident or plan B. Jesus came at just the right moment, and He came for you. We don’t fear circumstances, or rejection, or death — we fear the God who raised Jesus and rules eternity. And what a beautiful fear that is. The One who will judge us is the same One who gave His Son to save us. That truth humbles us without crushing us, gives us confidence, but not complacency, assurance but not arrogance. The fear of the Lord is what keeps us walking humbly and gratefully with Him until the end. That’s why Peter says we should fear God ‘as long as we live as foreigners here.’ Until the day we get home, this reverent awe should shape our steps. In heaven, fear will give way to face-to-face delight. But for now, it keeps us grounded, obedient, and thankful.

So, living in reverent fear means to live with a profound awareness: God is my Father, God is my Judge, God is my Redeemer, God is my hope. He’s always present, always holy, always loving – how could I not honour Him with my life?

If you hear all this and think, ‘I want more of that fear — I need more of that reverence in my heart,’ you’re not alone. That’s a good desire. Ask God for it. Pray, ‘Lord, teach me to fear You rightly. Not to shrink from You, but to honour You. Not to live in guilt, but in grateful worship.’ God loves to answer prayers like that.

Let’s live each day, not afraid of God — but in awe of Him. Not terrified, but transformed. Not flippant, but faithful. You are different. So be different — until the day you see Him face to face.

Peter has shown us three areas in which our ‘different-ness’ must shine: our hope (set fully on God’s grace, not on earthly dreams), our conduct (holy like our Father, not conforming to the world), and our attitude toward God (reverent fear, not casual or rebellious). This is the response to the great salvation we have received. And as we live this out, it will make a difference.

A church full of people who hope in their future with Christ, who strive to be holy, and who deeply reverence God – that kind of church stands out in a world of despair, indulgence, and irreverence. People around will notice that difference. Some may hate it, as in Peter’s day; but others may be drawn by it. Our distinct lives can become a beacon that points people to Jesus. So, don’t hide who you are. You are different because of God’s grace – so be different, to make a gospel difference in the lives of others.

Sermon: Sunday, 9th June, 2024
Visiting Speaker: David Ferguson
Scripture: Matthew 18:21-35

‘Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?’ (Matthew 18:21)

Jesus used parables in order to teach important points and to answer questions. What was the point today’s parable? What was Jesus teaching? If we look at the context of the passage, Jesus had been doing a lot of teaching about humility, the counter cultural nature of the kingdom of heaven.

So, what’s with that? Well, it would look like traditional Rabbinical sources suggested that you were obliged to forgive someone who sinned against you three times. In that context, Peter’s suggestion of seven times actually sounds quite magnanimous, doesn’t it? ‘The rabbis say three, but I’ll go as far as seven.’ And seven was, in Judaism, the perfect number, the number of completeness.
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Peter is basically showing off his humility. And the fact that he says ‘up to seven times?’ might even suggest that he was kind of hoping Jesus might think he was going above and beyond.

But how does Jesus respond? ‘I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.’ (Matthew 18:22)

I think this is a call back to Genesis 4, where one of the descendants of Cain, Lamech, murders someone and then says: ‘If Cain is avenged seven times, then Lamech seventy seven.’ (Genesis 4:24)

Just as Lamech upped the ante in a negative way in terms of his vengeance, so Jesus takes forgiveness to a new order of magnitude. Now, Peter was probably taken aback by this, wouldn’t you have been, and I bet he had questions. But Jesus had answers, and before Peter asks, Jesus tells this parable, that’s how he answers.
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I want to look at the parable in the context of grace.

1. Grace is free

Jesus begins by telling us that this parable shows us what the kingdom of heaven is like. This is what life in the community of followers of Jesus is like. When Jesus talks about the kingdom of heaven, or the kingdom of God, it isn’t some picture of the afterlife. The kingdom began breaking into the world in Jesus’ incarnation. It started then and it continues now. Everyone who follows Jesus is a citizen of that kingdom now.

The king was settling up his accounts with his servants – he had authority over these people – and some of them owed him. One in particular is brought in who we are told owed him ten thousand talents.

That’s a huge debt, equivalent to about 164,383 years of wages for a labourer. To put that in context, Josephus the historian tells us that in 4BC the total tax intake for all of Judea and Samaria together was 600 talents.

Jesus doesn’t explain how a servant was able to run up a debt like that, and it doesn’t matter, this was a story he told to make a point. The talent was the largest unit of currency in the roman empire, and ten thousand was the largest number the Greek language had a word for. In fact, the word was sometimes used just to describe an unimaginably large number, in the same way a child might talk about a gazillion pounds. The point Jesus was making was an inconceivable debt.

Of course, we are told that he couldn’t pay it back (verse 25) so the master orders that he, his family, and everything he owns be sold off. The servant begs for time and promises to pay it all back, which he would never be able to do.

Amazingly, the king looks at him, and wipes out the debt. He lets the servant go. He doesn’t work out a repayment plan. He doesn’t cut a deal for a percentage of the debt, he clears it completely and without condition. That’s incredible, isn’t it? imagine being in that position. Your life forfeit for a debt you’ve worked up that you can never pay off. And the king says, Never mind, I’ll write it off.’
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Well, that’s a picture of what happens when you put your trust in Jesus. We are that servant. Earlier in Matthew’s Gospel when Jesus had given his disciples the prayer we know as the Lord’s prayer, he used this same word for debts and debtors to talk about sins. Our sin places a burden of debt upon us, between us and God. We have defaulted, we are so deep in the red that there is no way we can ever clear it. And as a result, our lives are forfeit.

And our first instinct is often the same as this servant, we say we’ll make it right, we’ll pay it back. With our hard work and our good deeds we’ll get things back where they should be. But just like him, we can’t. Our best is not going to be good enough to even dent that debt. But it is incredible because when we trust in Jesus, just like that king, God clears the debt.
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That’s grace. And we haven’t earned it. We don’t deserve it, and we do nothing to contribute to it. Just like the servant in the story. Because grace is free

Grace is costly

But, that is not all, because whilst grace might be free, it’s not cheap. To the recipient it’s free, but it’s also true that grace is costly. How so?
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Well, portraying it as a debt helps to illustrate this. If I lend you a fiver, and then you can’t pay it back and I say, ‘Forget about it’, then I’m not breaking even. I’m down five pounds. Right?

Consider the king in the story. He lets the servant off, but that doesn’t mean the debt just magically goes away. The king absorbs the loss. He gets nothing back. He loses that huge, staggering amount of money. By rights it was his, but he gives it up.

That’s true whenever forgiveness takes place. The one who forgives incurs a loss; the forgiven gains at the forgiver’s expense. It may be free to the recipient, but to the giver, grace costs.

How much more is that true when we think about our debt to God? The outstanding balance on our debt isn’t measured in money; our sin doesn’t come with a financial penalty. Romans 6 tells us the wages of sin is death. We owe a life. And when God forgave the debt, that’s what it cost him. The wages of sin is death, and that still had to be paid off.
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Jesus did that. On the cross. When he died under the burden of our sins. When Jesus said there ‘It is done, it is complete…’ he was saying the bill was paid in full.

‘For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.’ (Romans 6:23)

God’s grace is free to those who receive it, the gift of eternal life in Jesus Christ. And that’s amazing when you consider just how deep in the red we all would be without it. It’s free to you if you take it, but it’s not cheap. It costs, and Jesus paid that cost on the cross. And, in case there was any doubt that it was paid in full, he rose again from the dead to show that death has no hold on those who are part of his kingdom.

So grace is costly, but Jesus took on our debt, He paid the price, so that we can have it for free. You can have it for free. That’s the promise of the gospel; that’s what it means to follow Jesus. If you trust him, he pays the price for your debt, your sin, and restores your relationship with God.

Grace changes everything

What about Peter’s question? What about the second act of the parable? Jesus wants to show that Grace changes everything.

But when that servant went out, he found one of his fellow servants who owed him a hundred silver coins. He grabbed him and began to choke him. ‘Pay back what you owe me!’ he demanded. His fellow servant fell to his knees and begged him, ‘Be patient with me, and I will pay it back.’ (Matthew 18:28-29)

The man who’d just had a huge debt cancelled, went out and found someone who owes him. It’s interesting that the words of the second servant are exactly the same as those the first servant used in this predicament, with one exception, the first servant had rashly promised to pay back everything.
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So how does the first servant respond in the face of this? Does he pay it forward? He does not. ‘But he refused. Instead, he went off and had the man thrown into prison until he could pay the debt.’ (Matthew 18:30)

That’s shocking. The fellow servants in the story were shocked and Jesus’ original hearers would be shocked too. The amount of money in the second case was not insignificant, 100 days wages, a bit over £8,000 at minimum wage today. And the first servant was legally entitled to do what he did. Letting the second servant off would have cost him. BUT in the light of what he had just experienced, surely that should change something. 100 Denari wasn’t nothing, but it was trivial compared to 10,000 talents. He was under no legal obligation to forgive, but what about morally and ethically?

Peter wants to know how many times he needs to forgive his brother. As much as seven? When Jesus says seventy-seven, he’s not suggesting Peter should keep a tally and when it gets to seventy-eight that’s it, his obligation is over. Seventy seven in this case represents going way beyond expectations and then some.

Jesus is saying to Peter how much has God forgiven you Peter? Three times? Seven? Seventy seven? An uncountable amount? So, now how much do you think you need to forgive your brother?

Recognising just how much God has forgiven us, just what a cost he has taken on to release us from an unpayable debt, that should be transformative, it should change everything, especially our perspective on those we feel ‘owe’ us.
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Yes, forgiving others costs us, it costs us the opportunity to carry a grudge, the opportunity to extract our due, the opportunity for vengeance. That’s why I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Jesus echoes Lamech here and flips the perspective. Where Cain was promised seven times vengeance, Lamech wanted seventy-seven times. Peter suggests seven times forgiveness, Jesus says no. Seventy-seven times forgiveness

The world tells us, ‘Don’t get mad, get even. Call in your debts. Take what you are owed.’ But Jesus teaches something different. His kingdom is to be different.

Jesus holds out the promise of forgiveness, on an inconceivable scale. But while it is free, it should change you. If you really understand what God has done for you, it will make you recognise the need to forgive others. And if it doesn’t, well, that’s a problem. You can’t properly grasp God’s forgiveness while you are clinging on to your grudges.

And you know what, it isn’t always easy. Forgiving people can be hard, because it comes at a cost. But the ongoing work of the Holy spirit in the hearts of believers is transformational.‌ Forgiving others isn’t a condition of God’s grace, but it should be a result of it working in your heart. And while forgiveness is hard, it’s also a huge relief. Just letting go, handing it all over to God. Recognising that God’s grace is sufficient, and I don’t need to hold on to what this person or that person said or did.

I’m not looking to minimise the hurts some people have gone through. But part of the freedom that comes from being in Christ is being freed from our own sins and the burden of what others have done to us.
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If you’re struggling with that then I would urge you not to let the hardness of forgiveness rob you of your joy. Take it to God in prayer. Be honest with him. It’s not going to be an overnight fix but Jesus says that as we have been shown mercy, so we should show it.

A kingdom of the forgiven, is a kingdom of the forgiving. What a witness to the world that will be for what Jesus has done in our lives.