We are often surprised by the things Scripture tells us not to be surprised by.

We know that the Christian life involves suffering. We have read the passages. We know that Jesus told his disciples to take up their cross. We know that Paul said that “through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God.” Yet when suffering actually arrives, particularly when it comes because we have tried to be faithful to Christ, we can still find ourselves asking, “Why is this happening?”

Peter anticipates the question: “Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you” (1 Peter 4:12).

There is tenderness in that first word. Beloved. Peter is not writing as a detached theologian explaining suffering from a safe distance. These are beloved brothers and sisters who are hurting. And the first thing he wants them to know is that their suffering does not mean something has gone wrong.

In fact, the strange thing would be to follow a crucified Saviour and expect never to encounter a cross.

Our culture has conditioned us to think of a good life largely in terms of comfort. We spend enormous amounts of time and money eliminating inconvenience, reducing pain, extending life, and making ourselves comfortable. Many of these things are perfectly legitimate. There is no virtue in seeking suffering for its own sake.

The danger comes when comfort moves from being a gift we gratefully receive to a right we expect God to preserve. Then suffering becomes a theological crisis.

Why would God allow this? Why now? Why me? I was trying to obey him.

Peter does not answer every question surrounding suffering. Instead, he changes our expectations. The fiery trial is not necessarily evidence of God’s absence. For the Christian, it may actually become a place in which God proves the reality of faith.

Peter has already used this imagery earlier in the letter. Trials test the genuineness of faith in the way fire tests gold (1:6-7). Fire does not create gold. It reveals it and purifies it.

The Puritans often understood suffering in precisely this way. John Flavel wrote, “Afflictions are the ways of God’s appointment, in which we must wait upon him for glory.” That is very different from viewing hardship merely as an obstacle between me and the life I wanted. God is doing something in his children even when we cannot yet see what he is doing.

Sharing Christ’s Sufferings

Peter goes further: “But rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed” (v. 13).

This needs careful reading. Our suffering does not add anything to Christ’s atoning suffering. Jesus alone bore our sins. His sacrifice was once for all. Nothing we endure contributes to our justification.

Peter is speaking instead about identification with Christ. The world rejected our Master. We should not be astonished when allegiance to him sometimes brings rejection upon his servants.

Jesus himself said, “A servant is not greater than his master.” If the world hated him, his disciples should not assume that perfect faithfulness will always make us popular. This is increasingly important in our own setting. We have enjoyed generations in which many Christian convictions were at least culturally comprehensible. That cannot simply be assumed anymore. Christian beliefs about the uniqueness of Christ, sexual holiness, marriage, the sanctity of human life, the authority of Scripture, and the necessity of repentance may bring not merely disagreement but reproach.

Peter says, “If you are insulted for the name of Christ, you are blessed” (v. 14).

Again, this is no permission to become obnoxious. Peter carefully distinguishes suffering as a Christian from suffering because we have behaved sinfully or foolishly. “Let none of you suffer as a murderer or a thief or an evildoer or as a meddler” (v. 15).

Not every negative response we receive is persecution. Sometimes people are angry with Christians because Christians have behaved badly. But when the offence really is Christ, Peter says, “let him not be ashamed, but let him glorify God in that name.”

The world may teach us to be embarrassed by the name Christian. Peter teaches us to glory in it.

Then Peter says something sobering: “For it is time for judgment to begin at the household of God” (v. 17).

He is not saying that Christians face the condemning judgment Christ has already borne for them. Rather, God begins his purifying work with his own household. The fiery trial searches us. It exposes where our confidence really lies. It reveals how deeply we have loved comfort, reputation, control, or the approval of others.

Suffering has a way of stripping away our pretences. It asks questions prosperity allows us to avoid: Is Christ enough when something precious is taken away? Will I obey when obedience costs me? Do I love God himself, or mainly the life I hoped God would give me?

Those are painful questions, but they are not the questions of an enemy. They are the severe mercy of a Father who intends to bring his children safely home.

Peter ends the section with what may be one of the finest summaries of Christian suffering in the New Testament:

“Therefore let those who suffer according to God’s will entrust their souls to a faithful Creator while doing good” (v. 19).

Notice what Peter does not say. Understand everything. Explain everything. Fix everything. Escape everything. He says, entrust yourself to God and keep doing good.

The word “entrust” was used of depositing something valuable for safekeeping. Peter knew where he had heard that kind of language before. On the cross, Jesus prayed, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.”

The suffering Christian follows the same path. We place ourselves into the hands of God. And Peter gives God a beautiful title here: “a faithful Creator.” The One to whom you entrust yourself is the One who made you. He knows you completely. He is not improvising with your life. And he is faithful.

That does not make the fire pleasant. Christianity never requires us to pretend that pain does not hurt. We may grieve, lament, ask questions, and pray earnestly for deliverance. But we do not have to despair. The fire is not sovereign. God is.

So when the fiery trial comes, do not immediately conclude that something strange has happened. Do not assume that God has forgotten you. Do not be ashamed of Christ. And do not allow suffering to become an excuse for bitterness or disobedience.

Entrust your soul to your faithful Creator. Keep doing good. The fire will not last forever. Peter points beyond it to the day “when his glory is revealed.” And on that day, no Christian who suffered faithfully for Christ will wish that he had loved Christ less.