Watch the full worship service (including this sermon) here: https://www.youtube.com/live/BW1G-O3nlHE
When we think about following Jesus, we often focus on the blessings—and there are many. But there’s something we sometimes forget: following Christ isn’t a call to comfort. It’s a call to battle.
Consider the Marine Corps recruiter who stood before a crowd of college students in the 1960s. While other military branches promised career advancement, job skills, and comfortable futures, this scarred veteran took a different approach. He looked at the audience and said something shocking: “If you join the Marines, you’re going to hate it. You’ll curse the day you were born. You’ll go to bed hungry, cold, and thirsty. You’ll be shot at. Some of you will be killed.”
Then he closed his book and walked off stage, declaring he didn’t see anyone in that room who had what it takes to be a Marine.
The result? While other recruitment tables had a handful of interested students, the line for the Marine Corps stretched down the hallway and around the corner.
Jesus never promised us an easy road. He didn’t say, “Follow me and everything will work out perfectly.” Instead, He said, “Take up your cross and follow me.” He called us to die—to ourselves, to our ambitions, to our comfort.
This isn’t pessimism. It’s reality. We live in an unreliable world that’s hostile to the message of Christ. And in this world, we’re engaged in a spiritual battle whether we acknowledge it or not.
The question isn’t whether we’ll face opposition. The question is: Are we prepared to fight?
In 1 Peter 5, we find a roadmap for surviving and thriving in this spiritual battle. Peter, writing as a fellow elder and witness to Christ’s sufferings, addresses different groups within the church community. But his underlying message is consistent: relationships matter.
Not just any relationships—but relationships built on humility, service, and mutual submission to God.
Peter addresses elders first, calling them to shepherd God’s flock willingly, not for personal gain but out of eagerness to serve. He reminds them not to lord their position over others but to be examples to the flock. True spiritual authority doesn’t come from a title on a letterhead. It grows from the quality of one’s life.
There’s a powerful image here: shepherds who “smell like sheep.” Biblical shepherds didn’t stand at a distance barking orders. They lived among the flock, serving them, feeding them, protecting them, touching them, speaking to them. They were so integrated into the life of the sheep that you could barely tell them apart—except that they were leading, guiding, and caring.
Peter then turns to the younger generation with a simple instruction: submit to those who are older. This isn’t about blind obedience to authority. It’s about recognizing wisdom that comes from experience.
We live in a culture that worships youth and dismisses age. But Scripture consistently calls us to honor those who’ve walked the path before us. They’ve weathered storms we haven’t yet faced. They’ve learned lessons we haven’t yet encountered. Their scars tell stories we need to hear.
This doesn’t mean we can’t ask questions or have conversations. It doesn’t mean we’ll always agree. But it does mean approaching our elders with respect, recognizing that their years hold valuable wisdom we desperately need.
Then Peter broadens his lens: “All of you, clothe yourselves with humility toward one another.”
Here’s the truth: pride will be the downfall of the church. Our arrogance, our insistence on being right, our refusal to listen—these things tear apart the very relationships that should sustain us.
God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble. Throughout Scripture, this theme echoes repeatedly. “Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted” (Matthew 23:12). We’re not called to sing our own praises. We’re called to sing the praises of God.
Humility isn’t weakness. It’s strength under control. It’s recognizing that we don’t have all the answers, that we need each other, and that ultimately, we all need God.
After calling us to humility, Peter gives us one of Scripture’s most comforting instructions: “Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you” (1 Peter 5:7).
How often do we try to handle everything ourselves? We pull up our “big boy pants” or “big girl pants” and convince ourselves we can manage. But Scripture says something different: we’re not equipped to carry these burdens alone.
The word “cast” here is intentional. It’s not gently laying something down. It’s throwing it—hurling our cares at Jesus’ feet and leaving them there.
We carry too many burdens we were never meant to carry. We worry about things God has already promised to handle. When we humble ourselves before God and cast our anxieties on Him, we discover something remarkable: we can actually get through anything.
But here’s why this matters so urgently: “Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8).
Satan is real. He’s active. And he’s coming after us.
In Revelation 12, after the dragon fails to destroy the woman, Scripture tells us he “went off to wage war against the rest of her offspring—those who keep God’s commands and hold fast their testimony about Jesus.”
That’s us. We are the offspring. The war is against us.
Are we prepared?
Paul reminds us in Ephesians 6 to put on the full armor of God—not because we’re fighting against other people, but because our battle is “against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.”
We fight the wrong battles far too often. We battle each other—people in our own congregation, people in other churches, people who believe slightly differently than we do. Meanwhile, the real enemy advances unchallenged.
Jesus called Satan “the father of lies” (John 8:44). We live in a world saturated with untruth, where lies are spoken as fluently as native languages.
Truth matters—regardless of circumstances, regardless of what’s popular, regardless of personal cost. We don’t create truth. We discover it, maintain it, and defend it. And the only place to find absolute truth is in God.
Circumstances don’t change truth. Time doesn’t change it. Our preferences don’t change it. Truth is truth, period.
Peter closes this section with a promise that should encourage every weary warrior: “And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast” (1 Peter 5:10).
The suffering is temporary. The restoration is permanent.
If we want to make it through this unreliable world with something reliable to hold onto, we must cling to God at all costs. We must invest in relationships built on humility and truth. We must recognize the battle we’re in and fight the right enemy.
Once a Marine, always a Marine, they say. How much more should we say: Once a follower of Christ, always a follower of Christ?
The call hasn’t changed. The battle is real. But so is the victory that awaits those who stand firm.
Watch the full worship service (including this sermon) here: https://www.youtube.com/live/BW1G-O3nlHE