Rev. Rob Jones
April 18, 2026

1 Peter 1:18–25
You know that you were ransomed from the futile conduct inherited from your ancestors, not with perishable things like silver or gold 19 but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without defect or blemish. 20 He was destined before the foundation of the world but was revealed at the end of the ages for your sake. 21 Through him you have come to trust in God, who raised him from the dead and gave him glory, so that your trust and hope are in God. 22 Now that you have purified your souls by your obedience to the truth so that you have genuine mutual affection, love one another deeply from the heart.23 You have been born anew, not of perishable but of imperishable seed, through the living and enduring word of God. 24 For “All flesh is like grass and all its glory like the flower of grass. The grass withers, and the flower falls, 25 but the word of the Lord endures forever.” That word is the good news that was announced to you.

There once was an old riverboat. With its two large wheels on either side, it moved with intention up and down the Mississippi River. It was the kind of riverboat that carried stories as much as it carried people—stories of weddings and funerals, harvests, and droughts. At the center of its character was a large bell on its pilothouse (the very top where the Captain and Crew steer the boat). Every time the bell rang, the crew went about their work with a quiet confidence: “All is good. Our accounts are settled. Our record is clean.” But their confidence was borrowed. In a locked room beside the paddle-box (the large enclosure that held the water wheel) was a ledger—names, dates, charges. The real work that keeps the boat running without breaking is honestly recorded in this book. However, the crew’s peace of mind rested on a denial: no one went downstairs; no one opened the book; no one read the lines written in ink that did not fade.

Peter writes to Christians who know what it is to feel exposed—scattered, pressured, and tempted to find peace in something sturdier than promises. And right here, in 1 Peter 1:19–25, God gives a peace that is not borrowed and not imagined. It is purchased. It is announced and made alive.

1) The price of your redemption is not your perfection, but Christ’s blood

Peter says we were redeemed “with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without defect or blemish” (v. 19). Redemption is the language of release—freedom purchased, not freedom achieved. And Peter is careful: it wasn’t paid with “perishable things such as silver or gold” (v. 18). The currency of heaven isn’t metal; it is blood.

The “lamb” imagery Peter uses pulls Israel’s whole story into one sentence—Passover, sacrifice, a substitute bearing judgment so the guilty can go free. The cross is not merely a display of love meant to soften our hearts. It is an accomplishment: Christ stands in the place of sinners and truly secures what He purchases.

And notice how Peter anchors this redemption in God’s eternal purpose: Christ “was destined before the foundation of the world but was revealed at the end of the ages for your sake” (v. 20). Your salvation is not God improvising after human failure. Before there was a town, before there was a ledger, before there was a sinner, the Father purposed a Redeemer.

Peter even says that through Christ you “have come to trust in God, who raised him from the dead and gave him glory, so that your trust and hope are in God” (v. 21). The resurrection is God’s public receipt that the payment cleared. Understand that: if Christ is raised, then the debt is not merely postponed—it is paid. That is why the Christian’s faith and hope can rest, not in the strength of our repentance, but in the strength of God’s promise.

Back to our riverboat, one day a stranger walked onto the main deck, asked for the key, and went downstairs. The porter protested: “No one reads that book. It only brings trouble.” But the stranger opened the ledger anyway. He traced each line carefully—every name, every charge, every misplaced maintenance receipt—and then he did the unthinkable.

He didn’t bring coins. He didn’t negotiate. He didn’t ask the captain or crew to start doing better first. He signed his own name beneath theirs, and he paid the bill that was coming due. When he came back upstairs, the bell rang—not to announce denial, but to announce peace.

2) The purpose of redemption is a new person who loves from a new heart

Peter moves from the cross to the church: “Now that you have purified your souls by your obedience to the truth so that you have genuine mutual affection, love one another deeply from the heart” (v. 22). Redemption is never only a private transaction between “me and God.” It creates a family.

When Peter says, “obedience to the truth,” he is not sneaking human merit into redemption. In the New Testament, the “truth” is the gospel itself, and the first obedience God calls for is the obedience of faith—receiving Christ as offered in that gospel. The same grace that justifies also begins to cleanse; it purifies a people so that love becomes increasingly real, increasingly costly, increasingly “earnest.”

“Earnestly” is a strong word. It means love that is extended, stretched out—love that keeps reaching even when the relationship feels tight and sore. This is the love that forgives when you have the right to stay cold. The love that speaks truth when silence would be easier. The love that refuses to turn Christ’s church into a marketplace of consumers, where we only stay as long as we’re satisfied.

In our parable, after the stranger paid, the crew began to do something they had never done: they started meeting downstairs—not to accuse each other, but to tell the truth. Old enemies sat at the same table. They looked at the charges and said, “Yes, that’s mine.” And then they looked at the signature beneath it and said, “And that One has paid.” The ledger that once produced fear began to produce humility—and humility made room for love.

3) The power behind new life is God’s living Word, not the strength of our will

Peter tells us how this new family love becomes possible: “You have been born anew, not of perishable but of imperishable seed, through the living and enduring word of God” (v. 23). New birth is not self-reform. It is “New Creation.”

Here is a deep comfort: God doesn’t merely command dead hearts to live and then step back to see who manages. He gives life by His Spirit, and He does it through His Word. The gospel is not only information; it is an instrument in the Redeemer’s hands. That is why the church has always treated preaching, Scripture reading, and the sacraments as “ordinary means of grace”—ordinary, yes, but carrying an imperishable power because God attends His Word.

Peter supports this by quoting Scripture: “All flesh is like grass… the grass withers, and the flower falls, but the word of the Lord endures forever” (vv. 24–25). That line comes from Isaiah 40:6–8, where God comforts weary exiles by reminding them that human power fades, but God’s promise stands. Peter applies that same comfort to believers under pressure: your life is not held together by what is fading. It is held together by what remains.

Peter then makes it wonderfully plain: “That word is the good news that was announced to you” (v. 25). The imperishable seed is not hidden. It is preached. It is spoken into the ears. It is read at bedsides and kitchen tables. It is sung, prayed, and confessed. If you want to know where God is at work giving life, you don’t need to chase novelty—you need to encounter the gospel.

Conclusion: Come out of denial and into the purchased life

UP and down the river, towns and villages heard the bell ringing, but it meant something different now. It didn’t say, “Ignore the ledger.” It said, “The ledger has been dealt with.” And because the payment was real, the peace was real. The crew could face the truth about themselves without being destroyed by it. They could repent without despair. They could forgive without pretending the wrong was small—because the cost had already been borne. And they could tell others what happened, so that they could do this with impunity. 

So, hear Peter’s word for you today.

1. Rest your whole weight on the blood of Christ. Stop paying God with coins He never asked for—performance, reputation, comparison, promises to “do better.” Come with empty hands. The Lamb has been provided.
2. Love one another earnestly from a pure heart. If Christ has signed His name beneath your debt, you are free to stop using other people to prove your worth. You can repent quickly, forgive deeply, and serve quietly—because you are already secured.
3. Cling to the Word that remains. When your own strength feels like grass in summer heat, do not conclude that God has failed. Return to the living and abiding Word. Put yourself again under the preaching of the gospel and ask the Spirit to make what is preached alive in you.

Prayer: Father, thank You for redeeming me not with perishable things, but with the precious blood of Your Son. By Your Spirit, give me a new birth through Your living Word. Make my love sincere, my forgiveness deep, and my hope steady in the One who raises the dead. I ask this in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Citations

• Peter’s sermon quotation in 1 Peter 1:24–25 is drawn from Isaiah 40:6–8 (NRSVue).