Contentment For Sojourners And Exiles? The Call Of 1 Peter 1:13

by on September 10, 2025 | Comment

Empty Promises

The apostle Paul that we meet in the pages of Scripture did not appear to have many things going for him. Height? Not so much. Public speaking ability? Ask the Corinthians. More importantly, Paul’s missionary life was full of suffering, by which Paul learned and passed on a lesson as he proclaimed the gospel of Jesus Christ and the beautiful inheritance of the saints in light: “I have learned,” he writes, “in whatever situation I am, to be content” (Phil 4:11). As a 5’7”, not particularly comfortable public speaker, I feel that in a couple of ways I resemble Paul, yet the pursuit of contentment eludes me as it has for many years. When I was in grade school, I longed for the greener pastures of the university, for the freedom of adulthood. Then I went to college where the old longing was replaced by the desire for a spouse and a paycheck—even greener grass than before, but this too fell short of my unrealistic expectations. No matter the challenges of any one life stage, a single constant has remained: dissatisfaction.

I imagine for a moment that the early Christians who received Peter’s letters likely had as much tendency toward this earthly mindedness as I. Though our circumstances could hardly be more different, these first century Christians were reminded, as I am, not to be anxious about anything  (Matt 6:12, 34); they were warned that “hope deferred makes the heart sick” (Prov 13:12). Nevertheless, Peter felt it of great importance to join the long line of biblical writers reminding followers of Jesus to set their hope “fully on the grace” that is to be brought to them “at the revelation of Jesus Christ” (1 Pet 1:13). It seems that not much has changed about human nature since 33 AD, or indeed since the creation of the world, because Peter’s exhortation is as potent today as it has ever been.

Our family recently relocated from the sun-bleached vacation destination of San Diego to the wide-open plains of North Dakota, a move I have eagerly anticipated for many years. Delighted though we are to be in the Midwest, the nagging hope of the unsatisfactory present lurks in the recesses of my heart. It is wonderful to be here, but it is not perfect. As I prepared for a sermon in weeks past on 1 Peter 1, I was confronted anew by the imperative in verse 13 and convicted that I have failed to heed Peter’s words, placing far too much hope on my present circumstance. Instead of looking forward to the earthly life I desired, I should have been asking myself, what right do I have to expect satisfaction from this world? Sure, there are many pleasant and wonderful things that we are able to enjoy from God’s hand on this earth: a college degree is a good thing, children are a heritage from the Lord, a home with a yard and a garage is a kind blessing. But which of these was intended to satisfy the longings of the heart or satiate the appetites of sojourners and exiles?1

Augustine was right: Our hearts are restless until they find rest in Christ.2 Many false allurements call from unreachable islands that we pass by on our sojourning. Wealth calls to us, promising plenty and ease. Health beckons us, promising comfort and longevity. Politicians promise daily that a better country is in the hands of the current administration. But these promises are mirages in the desert, apples in Milton’s description of hell which turn to ash as soon as our lips touch them, leaving us desperate for something new upon which to set our hope.3 As long as our flitting hope alights on something earthly, the same message rings clear: We require a better hope.

Sojourners and Exiles

I have often read particular verses in Scripture and been struck by the pressing relevance to my current situation. Take Abraham for example. He was called by the Lord to pick up his whole life and move to a faraway land. Abraham thus spent a great deal of his life wandering, sojourning from his homeland. Centuries later, Israel, living under the Mosaic economy, spent forty years wandering the desert just east of Canaan. Adam and Eve were exiled from Eden for their sin, while Israel was later exiled from the promised land for more of the same. The Christians scattered throughout Asia Minor could not escape the designation of sojourners and exiles, and so they carried on this biblical theme (1 Pet 2:11). Sojourning is part and parcel of the lives of the people of God. What does it mean to be an exile but to be removed from one’s home and to long for a return to the sweet country that promises us life and peace, to be greeted by that wonderful phrase, welcome home? I recently had the delight of hearing this greeting as I finally completed my journey from San Diego. I walked through the door of my house and heard this sweet sentence for one of several I will hear it in my life. I heard it each time I returned from deployment, and each time, welcome home lost a bit of its luster—not because it was not sweet, not because these were not joyous occasions, but because in some sense, it was incorrect. I have never been truly welcomed home, properly, and I submit that you have not either, because this world is not our home.

A Better Country and a Better Hope

If I had to put my finger on the reason for the distance between Paul’s contentedness and mine, I would say it is this: Paul recognized that his citizenship was in heaven and that neither this world nor anything in it could satisfy him the way that everlasting communion with the Lord could (Phil 3:20). He, together with Abraham, longed for a “better country, whose designer and builder is God” (Heb 11:10), a country in which “there will be no more death, nor mourning, nor pain” (Rev 21:4), these former things having passed away with the rest of the creation which are stored up for fire on the day of the Lord (2 Pet 3:7). Heaven, in other words, is our homeland; the land we long for, the fellowship we crave, the communion we were created for, the peace and security which evades our grasp as we wander. We are on a pilgrimage to this better country and so we are also called to a better hope.

Peter recognizes the sufferings of his audience—that is what 1 Peter 1:3–9 is largely about. His answer to their sufferings is not only a call to a better hope, it also calls his readers to prepare their minds for action and to be sober minded about the realities of living in a sin-cursed world. And then, the clarion call of verse 13: “Set your hope fully on the grace that will be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ.” We are not satisfied by the good things we have been given, not ultimately at least. We accumulate stuff, we grow in meager confidence in ourselves, our bank accounts, our families, but gnawing at every human heart is a longing for more. Peter’s answer to this longing—indeed, God’s own answer through the inspired Word—is that we were never meant to be enduringly satisfied by the number of zeroes in our retirement savings. Man was not created to be lastingly gratified by the political situation of the day. We find no abiding respite in the catalogue of our own faithful acts or moments of obedience. None of these can satisfy the heart of man, for man’s true satisfaction lies in everlasting communion with the triune God; the Giver alone gives peace to the human heart.

Tom Brady once sat for an interview in which he was asked which of his Super Bowl rings was favored above the rest. He paused, thought for a moment, and then unreservedly answered, “the next one.”4 He won four more, but I would wager that as with a longing for the always greener grass, the next one never truly came. Why? Because glory is like a drug which wears off over time, always requiring a bigger dose. How much glory is enough to satisfy the heart? How much money? What does fulfillment cost in boats, or cars, or international flights? If a million people like and comment on your next Instagram post, will you hang up your spurs? These appear to be silly questions, but the pursuit of these lesser hopes forms our daily behavior, clouds our minds as we pray, and keeps us up at night.

The undivided hope that Peter calls us to is simple; not easy, but simple. Instead of setting our hopes upon things which fade and disappoint, let us instead hope in the Word of the Lord that stands forever: One day, Christ will return, and we who receive and rest in him for salvation will fully know the satisfying grace of the Lord; we will worship him with unfading voices, and all of our earthly hopes will be but distant memories. Come quickly, Lord Jesus.

Notes

  1. 1 Peter 2:11.
  2. Augustine, Confessions, 1.1.
  3. Milton, Paradise Lost, 10.566.
  4. Tom Brady in 60 Minutes, “Tom Brady’s favorite Super Bowl ring? ‘The next one,’” YouTube, January 30, 2019.

©Seth Adams. All Rights Reserved.

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    Post authored by:

  • Seth Adams
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    Seth Adams is a graduate of Westminster Seminary California, an honorably discharged naval officer, and now, the Associate Campus Minister of Reformed University Fellowship (RUF) at North Dakota State University in Fargo, North Dakota. His wife and three young children enjoy sanctifying one another, cheering when we all sit still during family worship, and looking for pheasants along the road during car rides.

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