What Are You Afraid Of?

Fear has a remarkable ability to make decisions for us. We remain silent because we fear what someone might think. We soften convictions because we know what certain words might cost us. We avoid difficult conversations because we fear losing a relationship. We may tell ourselves that conviction governs our lives, but pressure has a way of revealing what we really fear.

Peter understood this. The Christians to whom he wrote were learning what it meant to live as “sojourners and exiles” in a society that did not share their deepest loyalties. Their convictions made them increasingly peculiar to their neighbours, and Peter has already acknowledged that unbelievers might “speak against you as evildoers” (1 Peter 2:12). Now he prepares them for the possibility that faithfulness might actually bring suffering.

“Even if you should suffer for righteousness’ sake, you will be blessed,” he writes. Then comes the command at the heart of the passage: “Have no fear of them, nor be troubled, but in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy” (3:14-15).

Peter's answer to fear is not self-confidence. He does not tell frightened Christians to develop thicker skin or discover their inner strength. His answer is theological. The fear of man is displaced when Christ becomes greater in our estimation than the people we fear.

Peter is deliberately drawing from Isaiah 8. Judah was living through political uncertainty, military threats, rumours, alliances, and fear. God told Isaiah, “Do not fear what they fear, nor be in dread. But the LORD of hosts, him you shall honor as holy” (Isaiah 8:12-13). Peter takes those words about the LORD and applies them to Christ. Before Peter tells us what to say to the world, he tells us who must occupy the throne of our hearts.

That speaks powerfully to our own moment. Our culture does not always need legislation or physical coercion to produce conformity. Sometimes a label is enough. No one needs to arrest the Christian who is terrified of being called intolerant, backward, hateful, or on the “wrong side of history.” A classroom discussion turns to sexuality. A workplace celebrates something Scripture calls sin. Someone asks what you believe about marriage. Suddenly theology is no longer theoretical. You know what Scripture says, but you can also feel the temperature in the room.

Peter says, “Have no fear of them.”

That does not mean becoming abrasive. Christians sometimes confuse offensiveness with courage. Harshness becomes “boldness,” provocation becomes “faithfulness,” and we congratulate ourselves when people respond badly to our manner rather than our message. Peter gives us no warrant for that. Within the very same sentence in which he commands Christians to defend their hope, he tells them to do so “with gentleness and respect.”

Christian courage is not swagger. It can afford to be gentle because the most important question has already been settled: Christ is Lord.

That is why the order of Peter's words matters. First, “in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy.” Then, “always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you.” Before apologetics comes allegiance.

The word translated “defense” is apologia, from which we derive our word apologetics. Christianity is not an invitation to irrational belief. Christians should know what they believe and why. We should be able to explain why we believe God exists, why Scripture can be trusted, why Christ rose from the dead, and why the Christian worldview makes sense of the world in which we actually live.

But notice what prompts the question in Peter's passage. It is hope.

Peter imagines unbelievers encountering Christians whose lives require explanation. They suffer but do not despair. They are maligned but do not retaliate. They refuse to join in sin but are not consumed with hatred toward those who do. There is something about them that cannot quite be explained by the assumptions of the surrounding culture. Eventually someone asks, “Why?”

There is something wonderfully convicting about that. Peter assumes Christian hope might become visible enough that someone wants an explanation for it.

Our apologetic, then, is not merely spoken. It is embodied.

This is why Peter immediately speaks about “having a good conscience.” Our lives must not undermine our words. If we speak about sexual holiness while tolerating sexual sin among ourselves, our witness suffers. If we defend marriage while neglecting our marriages, the contradiction is obvious. If we proclaim truth while behaving dishonestly, people have reason to question us. Let the world disagree with Christ. Let people dislike Christian doctrine. But, as far as it depends upon us, let them struggle to make their accusations stick to the lives of those who follow Him.

Peter nevertheless refuses to promise that faithful Christian living will always be admired. “It is better to suffer for doing good, if that should be God's will, than for doing evil” (v. 17). Sometimes you can be gentle, respectful, honest, and loving and still be rejected. Jesus was perfect, and they crucified Him. There are occasions when the offence is not our manner but our Lord.

And perhaps no one was better qualified to say this than Peter.

Years earlier, in the courtyard of the high priest, someone asked whether Peter belonged to Jesus. A servant girl was enough to frighten him. The man who had promised to die with Christ denied three times that he even knew Him. The apostle who now writes, “Have no fear of them,” knew exactly what the fear of man could do.

But he also knew what grace could do to a coward.

The risen Christ sought Peter, forgave him, restored him, and recommissioned him. The disciple who had been ashamed to confess Jesus before a servant girl became the apostle who publicly proclaimed Him before rulers.

That makes this passage more than a command to try harder to be brave. Christ does not merely command courage. He forgives our cowardice and, by His Spirit, makes fearful disciples faithful.

So what are you afraid of? Losing someone's approval? Being thought foolish? Standing alone? Being labelled?

Peter does not promise that these things will never happen. He gives us something better.

Christ is Lord.

The people whose opinions seem enormous today are creatures. The culture whose approval feels indispensable will pass away. But Jesus Christ is Lord, and His kingdom will have no end.

Settle that in your heart, and the fear of man begins to assume its proper size.