¹⁹For it is commendable if someone bears up under the pain of unjust suffering because they are conscious of God. ²⁰But how is it to your credit if you receive a beating for doing wrong and endure it? But if you suffer for doing good and you endure it, this is commendable before God. ²¹To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps.

²²“He committed no sin,

            and no deceit was found in his mouth.”

²³When they hurled their insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly. ²⁴“He himself bore our sins” in his body on the cross, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; “by his wounds you have been healed.” ²⁵For “you were like sheep going astray,” but now you have returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls. 

1 Peter 2:19-25 (NIV11)

“Don’t get too comfortable.” That’s what Sam the Sheep said.

Ned, a relative newcomer to the flock, who had just settled down among the clover in the shadiest part of the pasture, responded, half-yawning, “What was that?”

“Don’t get too comfortable.”

“OK, I’ll bite. Why not?”

“Because,” Sam said, with some irritation, “bad things happen when you get too comfortable. It’s not good for you and it’s not good for the flock.”

“Well, I’m kind of glad you mentioned that. I’ve been thinking lately that maybe I’m in the wrong flock or something. You know, I signed up for the whole green pastures and quiet waters thing, but lately there’s been a lot of other stuff going on that’s, well, not so pleasant.”

“Oh, then maybe I’m too late. You’re already too comfortable.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” Ned was a little less relaxed now.

“Too comfortable sheep get careless. They forget that there are still dangers all around and they stop listening to the shepherd. And too comfortable sheep get surprised by things that shouldn’t surprise them and then get upset about it, which upsets other sheep.”

“Most important, too comfortable sheep start taking things for granted — like how good it is to be in this shepherd’s flock and not in some bad shepherd’s flock — or out there somewhere in the wilderness with the rocks, wolves, and lions.”

At the mention of wolves, Ned suddenly stood up and looked around, nervous. But Sam wasn’t finished.

“So, yeah, if you’re only interested in sheep thrills or think a sheep’s life should be a walk in the park then, yeah, you’re in the wrong flock. But that’s not what you want. You want to be in and stay in this flock. It’s the best flock, and the only one that matters. So don’t get too comfortable.”

It’s probably safe to say that the Apostle Peter thought a lot about sheep and shepherds, even though he was a fisherman before Christ called him. It’s not only that he would have been there all those times when Jesus used a shepherd and his sheep to illustrate his relationship with his followers. It’s especially because of what the Lord told Peter, after his resurrection, when he was restoring him to ministry after that disciple’s denial the night before the crucifixion. It’s hard to imagine that Peter would ever have stopped thinking about what Jesus said in that very important and emotional moment: “Feed my lambs.” “Shepherd my sheep.” “Feed my sheep.” (John 21:15-19)

So it’s no surprise that this language and imagery find their way into Peter’s first letter. He’s writing to Christians who need encouragement to keep on — not just to keep on believing, but also to keep on living the life Christ has called them to. No matter what happens.  And we might use Sam the Sheep’s counsel to sum up the specific message of the verses before us today: Don’t get too comfortable.

I.          In the first place, don’t get too comfortable or you’ll get careless. Bad things can happen when you do.

Like straying — that’s it in sheep terms. In spiritual terms, it’s sinning. We take grace for granted, treat forgiveness like an entitlement, and wander wherever we will, just assuming Jesus will always rescue us before things get too bad. We’re careless about the things we fill our minds with and think about, careless about fueling our desires to do and have things that God forbids, careless about the way we talk—and don’t talk—to our spouses and parents and children, careless about the way we speak and behave in front of unbelievers, careless about respecting and preserving God’s gifts of life and health, careless about sex and marriage, careless about feeding our faith with Word and Sacrament.

And even if it were possible to somehow be careless and not end up sinning, getting too comfortable also leaves us vulnerable. We forget that there are still thieves and robbers eager to steal away the sheep in Jesus’ fold, and that Psalm 23 isn’t just peaceful pastures — it also treats evil, enemies, and the valley of the shadow of death as dangerous and present realities. And when we are spiritually careless, we fail to recognize the risks that come with listening to the wrong voices, to be troubled by corruption in our culture, to discern the devil’s designs, to see the threat of false teaching, to heed the warnings of our pastors, parents, and teachers. We think, “Oh, other people might need to worry about such things, but those could never be problems for us. We’re happy right where we are, as we are.”  Until something happens, trouble comes, enemies get their claws in our souls, and our faith is shaken — maybe even shattered.

II.         And just as being too comfortable can make us careless, it can also leave us unprepared. We end up surprised by suffering.

Which Peter doesn’t want us to be. Later in his letter he says exactly that: “Dear friends, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that has come on you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you” (1 Peter 4:12 (NIV11)). When things are going well for us, it’s easy to think that that’s what’s right and normal, and anything difficult or unpleasant is the aberration — an exceptional deviation from the way things are supposed to be. But that has it backwards. Over and over we are told in Scripture to expect trouble in this life, precisely because we belong to Christ.

Our culture isn’t set up that way, though. Pretty much everything in it is geared toward avoiding pain, sorrow, trouble, labor — anything unpleasant. If you have more than 30 seconds of boredom, bury yourself in your phone. If doing research or writing a paper sounds like it might be difficult, get AI to do it for you. If communicating with, understanding, and being patient with spouses or parents or friends feels too much like hard work, just cut them off. If in-person socialization is unfamiliar or uncomfortable, move all your interactions online. If life itself just seems too hard, escape into drugs, alcohol, gaming, pornography, politics, or social media. 

I’d like to say that we Christians are immune to all that, but of course we’re not. We still have sinful flesh, and we still live in this sinful world. So we, too, are tempted to avoid suffering in whatever ways we can — to take the easy way out or to make the comfortable choice instead of the right one. We have a particular aversion to what we’re explicitly told to expect: unjust suffering, which is what it is when we, as Jesus did first, suffer because we’re doing what is good and godly. We’re also tempted to complain about our sorrows and troubles, which we’ll only do when we don’t appreciate that God always has a purpose for allowing them in our lives. And complaining isn’t good for us or the people around us.

But suffering is real. It comes to all of us — at different times and in different ways and in different measures, according to God’s love and wisdom — but it always comes. It’s part of being in his family, and Peter even tells us here that when we bear up under and endure unjust suffering, it is commendable before God.

Of course, we don’t want to take this too far the other direction, either, and seek out such troubles. We don’t aim for martyrdom or value victimhood. Peter asks, “How is it to your credit if you receive a beating for doing wrong and endure it?” and we understand his logic. But we can probably also think of Christians who cry out, “I’m being persecuted for my faith!” when the truth is that they’re just being obnoxious, rude, or foolish and bearing the consequences of it.

But even though suffering can’t be escaped, there’s good news: we’re not left in the dark about what to do. We know how to view it and how to endure it because Jesus showed us the way — and the way through it. “To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps.”

And what was that example? He wasn’t surprised. He didn’t complain. Anger, fear, or frustration didn’t lead him to sin. He didn’t use lies or deceit to find a way out of his trials or around his troubles. He didn’t do back to his enemies what they did to him, no matter how much they deserved it — insults and suffering inspired no threats or retaliation. What did he do?  He trusted that the One who sees and knows all things was well aware who was guilty and who was innocent. Justice would be done. His Father in heaven would see to that.

And that’s the example we are called to follow. No sin, no deceit, no retaliation; nothing but trust in God. Our human natures might not find that comfortable, but we are comforted: we know that counting on the Father who never lets us down and only wants what’s good for us will always be what’s best.

III.       And the best is what you’ll miss out on if you let yourself get too comfortable. 

Because when you start to take for granted the things that the gospel has given you, you start to take the gospel for granted. And then you lose what you were given. That’s not what you want.

And that’s why Peter is so quick to move from “Jesus suffered” to “Why Jesus suffered”. It wasn’t because he was a victim of circumstances beyond his control. It was to save sinners like you and me.

And not just to keep us out of hell and get us to heaven. He took our sins into his body and died with them on the cross, “so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness”. He let himself be whipped bloody and pierced with nails so that by his wounds we would be healed. 

This is what your Shepherd did for you — he laid down his life for his sheep. His suffering and sacrifice counted against and paid off your debt of sin, and you got his righteousness instead. Your guilt is gone. You are forgiven because of what Jesus did. Forgiven for careless speech. Forgiven for mistreating your loved ones. Forgiven for following the world and your flesh instead of God’s will when it comes to sex and marriage. Forgiven for complaining about things you should be thanking him for. Forgiven for trying to escape the things he wants to use to grow and strengthen you. Forgiven for being a wandering, rebellious, ungrateful sheep.

And that’s not all. This Shepherd of your soul did not merely rescue you from the consequences of your wrong choices. He gathered you in. “You were like sheep going astray,” but he added you to his flock.

And in that flock the Shepherd does for you all the things that Psalm 23 and John 10 talk about. He provides food for your faith. He gives you rest. He protects you from thieves and wolves and robbers and lions who want you for their own. He leads you through the dark valleys of life to peace and joy on the other side. His rod and his staff comfort you. You are safe in his sheep pen.

Our reading from Acts 2 gives us a glimpse of life in that flock — of just how good the fellowship of your fellow sheep can be. Everyone was devoted to the Good Shepherd’s leading, the flock was growing, and there was love and warmth and generosity. But they weren’t too comfortable — they knew that suffering would come, and it did, pretty quickly. But they had his example to follow, and his promises to trust.

So, yeah, life as Christ’s sheep is not a walk in the park. And that’s a good thing. Because being uncomfortable, because we follow him, grows us, strengthens us, keeps us alert, keeps us ready, and keeps us from taking for granted things we never want to take for granted.

So, when troubles come, when life gets hard, when you start to suffer, don’t start thinking that you’re in the wrong flock. There are no better options. You’re in the best one — the only one that matters, and the only one that you want to be in: the flock that has your Savior as its perfect Shepherd.  Amen.