Three Facts True of Every Christian

Well, I invite you to take your Bible, and we’ll turn to 1 Peter. First Peter. And let’s pray together once again:

Father, we’re glad this morning to be able to have your Word open before us, for it is here in your Word that we find all that we need for life and for godliness. It is here that we discover how we may grow up in our salvation. And we thank you for the privilege of studying it, and we ask that, in your great goodness, you will help us to be uncluttered in our thinking, clear in our talking, sensitive and inquiring in our listening, and ready to be obedient to your truth. We turn to you, O God. We need your help in these things. And we ask for it in Jesus’ name. Amen.

We’re going to begin this morning a series of studies in this first letter of Peter—what is one of the most practical epistles of the New Testament. Let me give to you some of the things that come across our path on a pastoral level on a daily basis which I believe are addressed—if not directly, certainly indirectly—in this 1 Peter.

For example, someone comes and says, “I’m going through a particularly difficult time in my life. My health isn’t good, and my wife isn’t particularly well either, and we have been entrusted with the responsibility of caring for our elderly parents. How should we react to this?”

Someone else comes and says, “Watching videos and spending too much time in front of TV—that’s my problem. That’s my condition. Is it possible to break the habit?”

Another person comes, says, “Why am I such a hypocrite? Is it possible to change?”

“When something goes wrong in my classroom or my office, I seem to be the one who bears the rebuke. It’s unjust, and I don’t like it. What should I do?”

Or, “My husband has little or no interest in my faith, and I desperately want him to know Jesus as I do. I’m making special place mats and napkins with Scripture verses all over them. Am I on track?”

Or, “The fellows and the girls from our office go out after work on Fridays. The place that they usually go is marginal. The activities are rather unhelpful. Should I keep attending?”

Or, “I’m not sure where I fit in in the church. How can I find out, and where do I start?”

Or, “I just came from a church which had committees for everything, but I don’t understand biblical church leadership. Is there a pattern?”

Or, “I just read the book This Present Darkness, and now I find the devil everywhere. What is a right perspective on the subject?”

And so I could go on and on. They’re just a selection that you folks understand, because by and large, you are the people who are asking those questions.

Now, that sample of activities is adequately addressed for us in this book, 1 Peter. And I want to commend to you the reading of 1 Peter—regular reading of it, systematic reading of it, memorizing of it, letting it abide in our hearts. Because often, when someone comes and presents one of those conditions, if you like, or asks one of those questions, it is followed by this question: “Could you recommend a book or something?” And the answer is often yes, we could, because there has been so much that is helpful written about so many of those subjects, and often we’re able to turn round and pick up a piece of literature, or maybe even a tape, that is very, very helpful in addressing that specific problem.

However, there is an inherent danger in that approach—something which is becoming more obvious to me as time goes by—and that is the danger of becoming capable of tackling specific issues without ever enabling people to grapple with the broader issues which give rise to those conditions. If you like, it’s the kind of individual who was like me at school in the area of mathematics, and all that I ever learned about mathematics was the way to do a particular problem. I must confess that after all of my schooling, I still didn’t understand how one particular problem necessarily fit within the whole broad structure of mathematical awareness, so that I was okay as long as it was the standard question, but once I was removed from that, I was at sea, because I didn’t know the broader mathematical theorems that were necessary for tackling the issue.

Now, I fear, dear ones, that not necessarily in our own church but broadly in Christendom at the moment, we are in danger of breeding a generation of people who are just like that: who desperately want the bottom line all the time—specifically want answers to targeted questions. Not that that is wrong, but they want the answers packaged in chewable bites. They don’t want to read books; they want to read chapters. They don’t want to read chapters; they want to read paragraphs. They don’t want to read paragraphs; they want to read sentences. They don’t want sentences; they want slogans. They don’t want slogans; they want words. “Give me the answer, Pastor, Teacher”—whoever it is—“in one word. Answer me now, and answer me quickly. I need to be able to get on with this specific issue.”

Now, again, the danger is great. As we flew across the Pacific Ocean a few weeks ago, somebody turned and said, “Where are we?” And I said, “What? Are you asking me? I don’t know where we are. We’re above the Pacific Ocean. Let’s ask somebody else where we are.” And so we could have gone to the flight deck and asked there. The individual particularly responsible for navigation could have answered instantaneously, and largely because of the computer printouts on a 747. With their original system and a quadruple backup, they’re able to navigate anywhere, anytime. However, the individual in that flight deck never goes in that flight deck unless he is able to navigate without that computer backup. Because the day that that goes down, he needs to know the principles which allow him to answer the specific questions.

And I want to suggest to you this morning that we are in danger of breeding crews, as it were—Christian crews—who can only fly on automatic pilot, who do not know how to navigate their way throughout the Scriptures, who have decided that Christian doctrine somehow is unimportant: that it is only important that the particular challenge of the moment is met with an answer which is instantaneous and clear, and it isn’t necessary to realize why the doctrine of God’s providence is important; that it is not important to know the nature of our salvation; that it doesn’t really matter what the Scriptures teach about indwelling sin; that those things are sort of for theologians and for people out there and for folks that really want to get into it.

I want to suggest to you this morning that the excitement of unearthing truth like that in the Bible is part of the key to spiritual maturity. And so, as we study together, and as we study 1 Peter peculiarly, and as people ask, Can I recommend a book? the answer is: Yes, I can, and it’s this book. This book. All of this book, from cover to cover. All Scripture, inspired by God and profitable for all the things that we need,[1] that we might become biblical Christians—that it might be said of the Chapel, like the church in Berea, that they were more noble than those who were in Thessalonica, and the reason was that they examined the Scriptures every day to see if what was being taught them from the Scriptures was actually so[2]—that they weren’t simply coming in and taking a spoonful, as it were, and running out and going on their way, but they were increasingly becoming people of the Book. They were people who weren’t going to be content with just pat answers to questions. They wanted to know the Bible for themselves. They wanted to increasingly become like the individual in Psalm 1, of whom it is said, in contrast to the other, “Blessed is the man who doesn’t walk in the council of the ungodly or stand in the way of sinners or sit in the seat of the scornful, but he is the individual whose delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law, in his Word, he meditates day and night.”[3]

And so, as we go through this practical letter on these Sunday mornings, I want to suggest to you that you see it as a kind of handbook for Christian living—that it is, as it were, that you dipped into the glove box of your life, and you produced for yourself that which is the Maker’s instructions for so many areas: for how to deal with my boss, how to deal with trials, how to live in my family, how to respond to my schoolteacher, how to apply the Scriptures on a daily basis in my everyday activity.

It’s written by Peter for an express purpose, which he tells us in 5:12. Notice it with me: he says, “With the help of Silas, whom I regard as a faithful brother, I have written to you briefly,” reason being: “encouraging you and testifying that this is the true grace of God. Stand fast in it.” So in other words, it is written for our encouragement, it is written for explanation as to the true grace of God, and it is written for our exhortation, so that once we’ve understood the true grace, we might be able to stand fast in it.

The Writer

Now, in this introductory study, I’d like you to notice with me, first of all, who the writer was. He introduces himself by giving us his name right at the beginning of it all, in common with the normal way of writing a letter at that time. Instead of putting your name at the end in those days, you put your name at the beginning, which was fine, because it saved you having to turn over on the back and find out who it was before ever you started reading.

“Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ.” Now, if I were to play that game with you where I say a word and you say a word, I wonder what you would say if I said, “Peter.” If I said, “Peter,” a number of responses, I think, would come from a variety of people. And as I thought of Peter, I just wrote down the first things that came into my mind—the pictures that are riveted in my consciousness when I think of this individual.

First of all, I think of him on a boat, learning obedience. Turn with me, just so you get these pictures also. Luke chapter 5—Luke 5—so we get a little identikit of this man who is the author. Luke 5:5. They’ve been out fishing, and it’s been a lousy evening, and they caught nothing. And Jesus gives a word of instruction; he says, “Put out into [the] deep water, and let down the nets for a catch.”[4] And “Simon answered, ‘Master, we’ve worked hard all night and haven’t caught anything.’” At this moment, he’s on shaky ground. Don’t answer back—that’s the first requirement, right? And he answered back. Jesus is the Lord. He’s not up for a debate. He said, “Get the boat out there!” Simon, Simon—here he goes, right out of the chute: “Hey, you should know, first of all, that we’ve been working hard all night, and we haven’t caught anything.”

Maybe he saw the Master’s eye, maybe the way you see the schoolteacher when you start that line, and you just see that look. You swallow twice, and you add another sentence quickly. That’s what I think he did here: “But because you say so, I will let down the nets.”[5] And as you read that event there in Luke 5, you find him in a boat, learning obedience. Verse 10b: “Then Jesus said to Simon, ‘Don’t be afraid; from now on you will catch men.’ So they pulled their boats up on shore, [they] left everything and followed him.” So the writer is somebody who encountered Jesus and left everything behind. We find him on a boat, learning obedience.

In Matthew chapter 14, we find him in the water, learning faith. Matthew 14. Jesus comes out, walking on the lake. Everybody in the boat is really freaked by it. They think it’s a ghost. Jesus speaks to them, says, “Hey, don’t worry, it’s me. Don’t be afraid.”[6] Who’s the first one to speak? Peter! “Lord, if it’s you...” Jesus was so gracious with Peter, you know. He’s just finished telling him who it was, and Peter said, “[Well], if it’s you … tell me to come to you on the water.” “‘Come,’ he said. Then Peter got down out of the boat, [and] walked on the water … [to] Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’”[7] And so his buddies must have said, “Here we go again. Here goes Peter, opening his big mouth, planting his big feet. Now he’s drowning. Ha ha! Look what happened to him.” And verse 31, “Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him [and said,] ‘You of little faith … why did you doubt [me]?” Peter: in a boat, learning obedience; on the water, learning faith.

John 18: in a garden, acting tough. John 18. Do you remember the scene? Jesus is about to be arrested and taken off to Pilate’s hall for interrogation. And as the group of soldiers comes, led by the betrayer, Judas, and arrives in the garden, who’s first to action? Peter. John 18:10: “Then Simon Peter, who had a sword, drew it and struck the high priest’s servant, cutting off his right ear.” There he was: Peter, in immediate defense of his Master.

But stay in chapter 18, and the scene changes—from in a garden, acting tough, to in a courtyard, telling lies. Verse 25: “As … Peter stood warming himself, he was asked, ‘[Surely] you[’re] not [another] of his disciples?’” Now, that was a crux moment for Simon Peter. He was the guy who said, “Because you said so, we’ll go deep.” He was the fellow who said, “Lord, if it’s you, I’m over the side. I can walk on the water too.” He was the one who said, “No one’s going to take my Jesus!”—and out with his sword, and he whacks off the guy’s ear. And now somebody says to him, “Are you one of his disciples?” And “he denied it, saying, ‘I am not.’” And someone said, “Didn’t I see you with him in the olive grove?” And of course they would identify Peter, even more than the others! The fellow with the sword who jumps forward and makes his presence felt—he’s going to be most recognizable. “Didn’t we see you in the olive grove?” And “again Peter denied it, and at that moment, a [cock] began to crow.”[8]

So, here’s this little picture we build up: in a boat, learning obedience; on the water, learning faith; in a garden, acting tough; in a courtyard, running scared. And finally, on the seashore, being restored. John 21:17. Jesus has already asked him twice, “Do you love me?” and twice he’s said, “Yes.” He comes around the third time: “He said to him, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me?’ [And] Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time, ‘Do you love me?’ [And] he said, ‘Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you.’ [And] Jesus said, ‘Feed my sheep.’”

Now, why do I take time to do that? Because it’s important who wrote the letter. It’s important that we have a flavor for who is writing now. Because he’s going to call the people of God to some very straightforward activities. He’s going to speak to us as men and women in the routine of our days, and he’s going to say, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, “This is what you ought to do,” or “This is how you ought to respond.” And it’s so important for us that we realize that Peter is not writing somewhere from an ivory tower—that he was just an ordinary fisherman, that he was in the family business, that he was like individuals here in the church. And it was in the routine of his days that God reached into his life and laid hold upon him. He was like so many of us: so quick to speak and yet so fearful; 50 percent of the time getting it right and yet, regrettably, the other 50 percent of the time getting it wrong; that at times he was tremendous, receiving the praise of Jesus—“Simon, I don’t know how you came up with this! Only my God, the Father in heaven, must have revealed this to you that you could make such a statement concerning me”[9]—and then within a matter of moments turning to him and saying, “Get behind me, Satan!”[10]

And in this great, paradoxical life is an individual, and his designation here in this first verse is, in light of this, very, very important: “Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ.” The word there is apostellō. It means “to be sent by,” “to send.” He is a sent one. He is commissioned by Christ, and he is commissioned for Christ. He is an exclusive member of an exclusive group whose office was foundational and unrepeatable. We saw that when we studied in Galatians with reference to Paul. And Peter here is made a foundational block of the church of Jesus Christ.

Much of what we regard as disqualifications for serving Jesus Christ, God, in his sovereign wisdom and purpose, turns into stepping stones rather than stumbling blocks.

And indeed, the letter that he is writing here, and the one that follows it, can be regarded at least in part as a fulfillment of what Jesus had said to Simon Peter concerning the fact of his betrayal. In Luke 22 you’ll find it—Luke 22:31, where, as Jesus tells him of what’s going to happen, he says, “Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail. And when you[’ve] turned back, strengthen your brothers.” And so here he is, doing exactly what Jesus said to do. His faith was buffeted badly. He was a failure, and yet he was restored. And in his restoration, he obeyed Christ. And so, in seeking to strengthen those who were his brethren, he writes what is essentially a discipleship manual.

Now, I may have appeared to belabor that. And I do so deliberately, because I don’t want us to miss the obvious point of application. And it is simply this: that much of what we regard as disqualifications for serving Jesus Christ, God, in his sovereign wisdom and purpose, turns them into stepping stones rather than stumbling blocks; that as we rehearse the details of our lives, and as we look back over our days, and as we are confronted by our disappointments, and as we are made painfully aware of our failures, and as we see what a basket case, in many ways, we’ve been, we are forced to conclude that an individual such as we could never be useful in the service of Christ. That is a lie of the devil. That is one of the most clever ways that the Evil One sidelines useful people from Christian service: to tell us that actually, the mess of our past disqualifies us.

And I want to say to you as individuals this morning—if I were to speak to you by name, in Christ, I’d want to say the same thing: let us be about the business of the Philippians 3:14 perspective. “Forgetting those things which are behind”[11]—once we have learned from them, whether in success or in failure—“forgetting those things which are behind,” let us “press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called [us] heavenward in Christ Jesus.”[12] God is in the business of putting people like you and me, warts and all, into the front line of service for him, even in our days.

And that’s why I love that little song that we sing, and haven’t sung maybe for a little while:

Something beautiful, something good,
All my confusion he understood.
All I had to offer him was brokenness and strife,
[And] he made something beautiful [out] of my life.[13]

And certainly Peter I don’t believe could write or dictate this word and say, “Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ,” without being struck afresh by the wonder of it all—that he who was so quick with his words, so fast with his sword, so awful in his failure should be one of the individuals that Jesus said, “You are my man, Peter. I want to use you. I want your life to be used”—as it certainly was.

Do you know that you’re useful this morning? That’s really what I’m trying to say. Young or old, or rich or poor, or single or married, or with this or without this, God did not redeem you to sit you in the red seats in Solon High School. Do you understand that? That’s not why you were saved. He didn’t save you to instruct you. He instructs you to use you. And there is “a work for Jesus” that “none but you can do.”[14]

Peter, the writer.

The Readers

Secondly, and briefly, notice the readers: “To God’s elect, strangers in the world, scattered throughout Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia and Bithynia.” In other words, he describes them geographically, sociologically, and theologically—if you’re taking notes and if you find this helpful.

First of all, he gives to us a geographical description of where they are, scattered throughout a wide area. If you were to look for it on an ancient map, you could find these names and trace the place. If you were to look for it on a modern map, then it is essentially modern-day Turkey. And so here we have these people who were in Turkey. That is, they were Turks, not turkeys—although, as I wrote down that these people came from Turkey, I said to myself, “There is obviously an immediate point of contact in the contemporary church, given that it is full of so many of us who are exactly that—just a bunch of turkeys.” And so here we are, spread throughout a wide area, scattered as a result of all kinds of influences, as a result of the development of the roadways of the day, as a result of the dispersion of Jewish people of Jerusalem. As the springing up of the gospel was taking place, as little pockets of believers were here, there, and everywhere, he writes to them, scattered—scattered geographically.

He writes to them who were different sociologically. Notice the phrase “strangers in the world.” “Strangers in the world.” Now, I want us to be very, very clear that what is true of them is true of us: that we are equally strangers in the world. That’s the point he’s making: that these individuals had an allegiance to a homeland which was different from the place in which they lived. The Jewish people understood that when they were separated from Jerusalem, because Jerusalem was home to them. But it would appear that Peter is writing to folks who are not simply Jewish. In fact, many of them are gentiles, and he seems to describe them in very Jewish terms. And that will come out as we continue our study. But he writes to them, saying, “In the same way as a Jewish person displaced from Jerusalem is a stranger in that environment, so,” he says, “a Christian person, displaced from heaven, must be a stranger in that environment too.” Because they are not permanent settlers; they are only temporary residents.

Now, if you want to make a note of this this morning, then make a note of it. Remind yourself of this fact. Let us remind ourselves of this fact: we are not permanent settlers; we are temporary residents. Now, what does that mean? It means that the value system of our world we needn’t buy into.

Did you see this morning that Malcolm Forbes passed away in a moment? Did you see it a few months ago—August 19th? Did you read the paper with me and said, “Imagine what it would be like to spend two million dollars on your seventieth birthday party! Two million dollars to bring all the friends and all the fans that you’ve ever wanted around you on that day!” I just looked at that and said, “My, my.” And I looked at his face in the paper this morning. And I don’t know his life. I don’t know his background. But I do know this: that Jesus said, “What would it profit a man if he gained the whole world and lost his own soul?”[15] What does it matter to put your name in the paper that says, “His net worth is somewhere between four hundred million and one billion,” but lost for all eternity?

And yet, as Christians, we seem to be so keen in these days to tell everybody, “We’re just the same as you, you know. We’re the same as you.” Listen, loved ones: we are not the same as them. We are radically different. We are not permanent residents here. We are temporary. As the song writer says,

This world is not my home; I’m just a-passing through.
My treasure is laid up somewhere beyond the blue.
The angels beckon me from heaven’s open door,
And I can’t [be] at home in this world anymore.[16]

Has a kind of hollow ring, doesn’t it? Because we feel so at home. We are so earthed. I don’t think the problem anymore is that Christians are so heavenly minded, they’re no earthly use. I think the problem is that most of us are so earthly minded, we’re no heavenly use. We’re trapped, and we need to read this again and allow the Spirit of God to write it in our hearts—stamp it on our foreheads, as it were: “Stranger.” “Stranger.” What the world hopes for is different from the believer’s hope. What the world prizes is different from what the believer prizes.

The problem anymore is not that Christians are so heavenly minded, they’re no earthly use. The problem is that most of us are so earthly minded, we’re no heavenly use.

But the geographical and the sociological descriptions of these folks are founded upon the theological distinctive which marks them. It’s given to us first in one word, or the opening phrase here: “To God’s elect.” It is then amplified in the first thing that’s true of every Christian in the phrase “[We] have been chosen.” And the theological truth, you see, which marks us out as strangers sociologically and as scattered geographically is the fact that God has purposed to have a people of his own and that it is the utterly undeserved privilege of all who have come to Christ to be made members of that people—as we noted last time in 1 Peter 2:9, where the promises and the descriptions that appended to Israel are given now to the church of Jesus Christ. Peter is writing here to believers, and he says, “You’re a chosen people. You’re a royal priesthood. You’re the holy nation.”[17] And once again, we noted how that was earthed in God’s purpose from all of eternity.

Three Facts True of Every Christian

Now, that brings us, then, with five minutes to go, to our subject for this morning: “Three Facts That Are True of Every Christian.” And let me just give you these three facts. And I’m not going to run over, because the remainder of the letter is a commentary on these three truths. We won’t pay slight purpose to any one of them. Here are the three things.

One: every Christian is chosen by God the Father—chosen by God according to his foreknowledge. What a wealth is contained in that! Think about it. When you came to faith in Jesus Christ, the emphasis seemed to lie largely on your part, didn’t it? You maybe had a friend who shared the gospel with you, and you heard it all, and you said, “What am I supposed to do?” Or perhaps you heard the Word of God proclaimed, and someone said, “Now, this is what needs to happen: there needs to be an acknowledgement of sin; there needs to be a turning from it; there needs to be a turning to Christ; there needs to be an opening of our lives to him.” And when we professed faith in Jesus Christ, it seemed that the emphasis lay largely with us—that we really achieved and accomplished so much by our actions.

But that day has begun to recede in our thinking. And upon reflection, we look back to that, and yes, we look now back beyond it. And as we look beyond it, we see the hand of God at work in so many ways in our lives: in our friendships and in the ordering of our steps; in the family that we were brought up in; in the influences that were brought to bear upon our lives. And we can’t help but say,

I know not why God’s wondrous grace
To me has been made known,
Nor why, unworthy as I am,
He sought me for his own.

But “I know whom I have believed.”[18]

And one of the key evidences that you and I have understood that our lives have been chosen by God the Father will be in a Spirit of humility—that we will marvel constantly that we should be named amongst those who are Christ’s.

Josiah Conder, the hymn writer of a couple of centuries ago, pens it in these great words:

’Twas sov’reign mercy called me
And taught my op’ning mind;
The world had else enthralled me,
To heavenly glories blind.
My heart owns none [above] thee;
For thy rich grace I thirst.
This knowing, if I love thee,
Thou must have loved me first.[19]

“For we were dead in our trespasses and in our sins, and he made us alive.”[20] That is fact one of your Christian experience: you are chosen by God the Father.

Secondly, cleansed by the blood of Jesus Christ—initially cleansed from our sins and continually being cleansed. And we’ll return to these. And thirdly, sanctified by the Holy Spirit. Three things that are true of what it means to be a Christian.

It’s not surprising that he then provides for them a succinct benediction as he says, “I would that grace and peace might be yours in abundance.” What a lovely greeting! The man that I used to work for and with in Edinburgh would often say to me on the phone—in a variety of circumstances as he concluded the phone call, he would say, “Grace and peace.” It was a lovely thing, because that is all you need for tomorrow at your work. Do you know that? That’s all you need. If you’re looking for a job, that’s what you need: you need grace, and you need peace. If you’re trying to put up with a cantankerous boss, you need grace and peace. If you are a cantankerous boss, you need grace, and you need peace; however, you don’t need it as much as the people who work for you need it.

So, you came, and it was Sunday morning, and it was snowing, and you dragged yourself out of bed, and you said, “Well, let’s go and give it a whirl.” And you may be beginning to wonder who you are and where you are in the world. Well, listen. This morning, if you are in Christ, understand this: That you’re a stranger here; that’s why you’ll feel a wee bit different from time to time. That you’re scattered about. Some of us are a long way from those who are nearest and dearest to us, and it’s not by choice; it’s by God’s purpose. And that there are things that are foundationally true of us: God chose us; Christ cleansed us; the Spirit sanctifies us. May that, combined with grace and peace, earth us, give us foundations, and to some degree put a spring in our steps as we anticipate what these days of this week are going to mean.

[1] See 2 Timothy 3:16–17.

[2] See Acts 17:11.

[3] Psalm 1:1–2 (paraphrased).

[4] Luke 5:4 (NIV 1984).

[5] Luke 5:5 (NIV 1984). Emphasis added.

[6] Matthew 14:27 (paraphrased).

[7] Matthew 14:28–30 (NIV 1984). Emphasis added.

[8] John 18:25–27 (NIV 1984).

[9] Matthew 16:17 (paraphrased).

[10] Matthew 16:23; Mark 8:33 (NIV 1984).

[11] Philippians 3:13 (KJV).

[12] Philippians 3:14 (NIV 1984).

[13] Gloria Gaither and William J. Gaither, “Something Beautiful” (1971).

[14] Elsie Duncan Yale, “There’s a Work for Jesus” (1912).

[15] Matthew 16:26; Mark 8:36; Luke 9:25 (paraphrased).

[16] “This World Is Not My Home” (1919).

[17] 1 Peter 2:9 (paraphrased).

[18] Daniel Webster Whittle, “I Know Not Why God’s Wondrous Grace” (1883). Lyrics lightly altered.

[19] Josiah Conder, “’Tis Not That I Did Choose Thee” (1836).

[20] Ephesians 2:1, 4–5 (paraphrased).