Audio Transcript

Do unbelievers get a second chance at salvation after death? This is a common question in the inbox. It’s an important question. It’s so important that two people asked the same question, at the same time, inspired by the same biblical text. “Hello, Pastor John, my name is Florin. I’m Romanian but live in London. I have asked a few different pastors, but they could not give me an answer. Can you explain 1 Peter 3:19–20 and 1 Peter 4:6, this idea that the gospel was preached to the dead? Thank you!” And the question also recently came from a listener named Jason. “Pastor John, could you please explain 1 Peter 3:19 to me? I’ve heard so many explanations for what Jesus was doing and why he was there. Some go so far as to imply a second-chance salvation. Is there one?”

I’ve returned to 1 Peter 3:19 over and over in the last fifty years, and I have to admit that I don’t have complete confidence that I know for sure what Peter is referring to when he says that Christ in the spirit preached to those who are now in prison. Here’s what that verse says so everybody can be up to speed with us.

Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh, but made alive in the spirit, in which [that is, in that spirit] he went and proclaimed to the spirits in prison, because they formerly did not obey, when God’s patience waited in the days of Noah, while the ark was being prepared, in which a few, that is, eight persons, were brought safely through water. Baptism, which corresponds to this, now saves you, not as a removal of dirt from the body, but as an appeal to God for a good conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ, who has gone into heaven and is at the right hand of God, with angels, authorities, and powers having been subjected to him. (1 Peter 3:18–22)

Now, I read the whole thing because the context is going to make a difference in the various interpretations that are put forward.

Three Main Interpretations

Here’s what Martin Luther said about this text: “A wonderful text is this, and a more obscure passage perhaps than any other in the New Testament, so that I do not know for a certainty just what Peter means.” That’s Martin Luther. That’s pretty much the way I feel as well. I don’t know for certain. So I’m going to mention the three main interpretations, tell you the one I lean toward and why, and then step back and say a word about handling texts where you’re not sure all that it means.

Hope for the Dead

So here’s the first one. One interpretation is that, between Good Friday and Easter, those days, Christ in the spirit, in his spirit, went to the place of the dead and preached. This is linked then to Ephesians 4:8, where it says that “when he ascended . . . he led a host of captives” (Ephesians 4:8; cf. Psalm 68:18). So he led Old Testament saints out of the temporary place of the dead with him into heaven.

Now this may well be the right interpretation, but it does seem odd to me that the focus of Jesus’s preaching would seem to be limited to those who did not obey in the days of Noah. If the reference is to all the Old Testament saints — and the fact that they disobeyed is an odd way of referring to them as well — then I’m still puzzled. That may be right. I’ve got good friends who hold that view. It’s a pretty traditional view.

Victory over Imprisoned Angels

Here’s the second one. Another interpretation argues that the preaching of Jesus after the crucifixion refers to his ascended proclamation of victory over those angelic forces referred to at the end of the passage: “with angels, authorities, and powers having been subjected to him” (1 Peter 3:22). This view says that the spirits in prison are the evil angels in prison for their disobedience, and Jesus is simply announcing after the resurrection his victory over them.

And again, that may be right. I’ve got a good friend who wrote a commentary who thinks that’s the right interpretation. But I have a hard time following Peter’s thought from the days of Noah to that conclusion.

Preaching Through the Prophets

Here’s the third view, and it’s the one I have leaned toward. I’ve circled back to it again and again. The view that I keep coming back to seems attractive to me because the strangeness of this text has already been set up for us by the strangeness of another text back in 1 Peter 1. Here’s what 1 Peter 1:10–11 says: “Concerning this salvation, the prophets who prophesied about the grace that was to be yours searched and inquired carefully, inquiring what person or time the Spirit of Christ in them was indicating.” That’s amazing. He’s talking about what the Spirit of Christ in them — in the prophets like Noah, perhaps — “was indicating when he predicted the sufferings of Christ and the subsequent glories.”

So Peter has already prepared us for thinking that, during the Old Testament, Christ in his Spirit went and preached through the prophets. First Peter 3:19 can very legitimately be translated to say that Jesus, “In the Spirit, having gone to the spirits who are now in prison, proclaimed to them in the days of Noah . . .”

“The very Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead was the Spirit in which he had gone and preached through Noah.”

On this interpretation, there’s no preaching to the dead between Good Friday and Easter. Whether that happened or not, I’m saying that’s not what this text is about. Instead, there’s a reference to the fact that the very Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead was the Spirit in which he had gone and preached through Noah to the world of Noah’s day. Most people were disobedient, and they’re now in prison, awaiting their final judgment.

Now, it seems to me that this interpretation has the advantage of making good sense out of why there is a focus on Noah and the people of his day. Why did Noah even come to Peter’s mind at this point in the argument? What brought him to mind as he was writing this text?

Noah’s Day and Peter’s Day

Now, I said that I would try to explain how I think about handling texts where I’m not clear on some things. Well, in this case, what I do is step back and look at the larger flow of Peter’s thought and ask, “What’s he trying to do in 1 Peter 3:18–22? Why did the issue of Noah, and the disobedience of so many people, and the salvation of so few in the ark — namely, eight — why did that even come to his mind?”

And I think the answer is that the churches that Peter was writing to were very small and insignificant in comparison to this gigantic Roman Empire. Most in that empire were being disobedient to the gospel in Peter’s day. The salvation of such a few people in this huge Roman empire caused Peter to think of the days of Noah, when only eight people came safely through the waters of judgment. And Peter says over in chapter 4 that, in his day, it’s time for judgment to begin with the household of God, similar to the days of judgment in Noah’s day (1 Peter 4:17).

“The whole world may laugh as in the days of Noah, but by faith we come safely through the judgment.”

And as he ponders this parallel between the salvation of a few in Noah’s day and the salvation of a few through baptism in his own day, it strikes him, perhaps — as he thinks back on 1 Peter 1:10–11, where Christ was preaching through the prophets in the Old Testament — that it might be helpful to mention that the analogy between Noah’s day and his own day is even fuller and deeper than the people might think. In other words, the analogy is not just that vast numbers of people were unbelieving and disobedient in Noah’s day, just like they are in Peter’s day, and only a few were saved through the ark, just like only a few were being saved through the waters of baptism. The analogy also extends to the fact that Jesus himself — by the Spirit, through Noah — was preaching in the days of Noah, and Jesus is preaching by the Spirit through the apostles in Peter’s day.

Saved Through the Waters

So even if I’m wrong about my understanding of the details of Christ preaching through Noah to the world of his day, I think this bigger picture is right. That’s what I meant when I described trying to understand what you do with the text if you don’t understand all the details. What’s the bigger picture that you can see clearly? I think it’s right and has a huge significance for that day and for ours.

Noah came to Peter’s mind because only a few were saved in the ark under God’s judgment. And now salvation through faith, through baptism, is like that. Through water, God saves his people, whether few or many, at any given time and place. And we should rejoice that Christ died to bring us to God through his judgment. The whole world may laugh, as in the days of Noah, but by faith we come safely through the judgment.

We must remember throughout our lives that in God’s sight there are no little people and no little places. (The Lord’s Work in the Lord’s Way & No Little People, 90)

So counseled Francis Schaeffer, twentieth-century American pastor and theologian. Perhaps no one needs the reminder more than moms, whose lives center, most literally, on little people in little places.

Of course, Schaeffer is not encouraging us to deny what our eyes obviously see. An unborn child begins no bigger than the smallest of seeds — months pass before our stomachs grow enough to show. Newborns are hardly any more noticeable, as we tiptoe them back and forth between crib and nursing chair.

Eventually our babies do turn into toddlers, and our toddlers become “big kids.” Yet mothers seem to spend more and more time in small places: pantries, laundry rooms, carpools. So as we care for little people in little places, we tend to feel quite little ourselves.

“As we care for little people in little places, we tend to feel quite little ourselves.”

But Schaeffer reminds us to see as God sees. All our little people, all our little places — surely they are little, but God made them. God governs them. God gave them to us. And so it is God, not the world, who determines the value and use of our children, our homes, and motherhood itself.

Worldy Lens

We tend to see littleness as insignificance. Schaeffer articulates the inner conflict well: “It is wonderful to be a Christian, but I am such a small person, so limited in talents — or energy or psychological strength or knowledge — that what I do is not very important” (63). Surely, mothers resonate. We want to matter, but we are “just moms.” It’s our unpaid job to be publicly defied by toddlers at the grocery store. We feel small, and so our lives seem unimportant.

But we would do well to ask ourselves, Through whose lens are we looking at motherhood? It is the world, not God’s word, that sees littleness as insignificance. Today’s society shouts, “The bigger, the better,” but for thousands of years God has said, “The Lord sees not as man sees” (1 Samuel 16:7). As Schaeffer puts it,

We all tend to emphasize big works and big places, but all such emphasis is of the flesh. To think in such terms is simply to hearken back to the old, unconverted, egoist, self-centered Me. This attitude, taken from the world, is more dangerous to the Christian than fleshly amusement or practice. It is the flesh. (74)

Schaeffer shows us that our problem isn’t littleness and lack of recognition, but sin and temptation. The world’s self-exalting, child-belittling ways entice our flesh to despise self-sacrifice, which is inherent in caring for children (especially little ones).

Whenever we long for something more than what motherhood seems to afford, we must remember: sight that sees bigger as better “is not from the Father but is from the world” (1 John 2:16). God has a different, far grander vision of motherhood for us. He loves to comfort little moms of little children in a child-belittling world — not by puffing us up, but by satisfying us with his glory and drawing us into his ways.

His Is the Greatness

Counter to the way of the world, God is not in the business of making moms feel bigger so that they can feel better. He is in the business of revealing his own bigness and better-ness to us — because he made us, because he loves us, and because he knows what is best for us. And what is best for little mothers is that they find all their satisfaction in a good, great, and glorious God.

By his grace, we will lament our littleness less and less. Louder and louder, we will declare with David, “Yours, O Lord, is the greatness and the power and the glory and the victory and the majesty, for all that is in the heavens and in the earth is yours” (1 Chronicles 29:11). We are indeed little, but God is great.

And we belong to him. He delights to use seemingly insignificant people for his glorious ends. His greatness can transform our humbles lives, if we will let it. “That which is me,” says Schaeffer, “must become the me of God. Then I can become useful in God’s hands. The Scripture emphasizes that much can come from little if the little is truly consecrated to God” (72). In other words, how we feel about our usefulness means little; what God says about how he intends to use us is everything.

Little yet Useful

Take Mary. We know her as the mother of Jesus, but before the angel Gabriel appeared to her, she was a poor woman betrothed to a poor man, living in a small town. In other words, she was little — but she trusted God. Though a virgin, she believed she would bear the Son whom God had promised. Before she became the most famous mother, she had hung a banner over her little life: “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38).

Little mothers, do we see ourselves, first and foremost, as servants of the Lord? Do we long for his word and his will to govern our lives? When we do, however inconspicuous our lives may be, God uses us. As Schaeffer says (and the life of Mary well illustrates),

The people who receive praise from the Lord Jesus will not in every case be the people who hold leadership in this life. There will be many persons who were sticks of wood that stayed close to God and were quiet before him, and were used in power by him in a place that looks small to men. (90)

We are not the mothers of Jesus, but we are the mothers of children whom he has made and given to us, children with minds and hearts capable of knowing and loving him forever.

One End for All Our Littleness

Are we satisfied in our great God? When we are satisfied in him, we will be used by him — in our homes, neighborhoods, and beyond. As Schaeffer puts it,

Only one thing is important — to be consecrated persons in God’s place for us, at each moment. Those who think of themselves as little people in little places, if committed to Christ and living under his lordship in the whole of life, may, by God’s grace, change the flow of our generation. (90)

This is the heart of why, for Schaeffer, there are no little people and no little places. In God’s sight, there are “no little people and no big people in the true spiritual sense, but only consecrated and unconsecrated people” (72–73). Either Christ’s blood covers us, or it does not. His Spirit works in us, or it does not. His glory delights us, or it does not.

“Nothing everlasting ever amounts to little, but sometimes we forget.”

And anytime the redeemed enter a room, whether it be the Oval Office or a newborn’s nursery, God intends to work in that place through them. God delights to use littleness for his glorious end — that is, making himself look good, great, and glorious in us. “For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever” (Romans 11:36).

God’s grand purposes for our littleness can drown out any seeming insignificance. Wonder of wonders, much good can come from little mothers who are truly satisfied in, their lives wholly consecrated to, our wondrous God. Ultimately, our day job is infinitely more than changing diapers, wrangling toddlers, and running late to carpool. We labor to enjoy and exalt God alongside family, friend, and neighbor, now and forevermore.

Nothing everlasting ever amounts to little, but sometimes we forget.

Many of us will walk through a life-altering tragedy at some point in this short life. But for most of us, most of the time, the deepest challenge of life is not weathering some earth-shattering, once-in-a-lifetime disaster. The greatest challenge at any given moment is negotiating the garden-variety discouragements of life. A passive-aggressive email. A dear friend who moves away. An elusive promotion. Chronic back pain. And especially, our own ongoing yielding to temptation.

A flash flood may drown us, but eventually so will incessant dripping if it is not dealt with. Sudden disaster may overwhelm us, but eventually so will the drip of discouragement if it is allowed to pool.

There are two ways to do life as a believer. One, gradually grow cynical by allowing the discouragements of life to beat out of you the acute sense of eternal destiny and wonder that God gave you at conversion. Two, leverage the discouragements of life into deeper reality with God and the doctrines you confess.

How do we do the second of these?

Here are four reminders for my fellow saints as we all battle our way together through the discouragements of life, especially as regards our own failures and weaknesses.

Slow Growth Is Real Growth

Perhaps you feel as if your growth in Christ is too painfully slow. That’s good. What healthy Christian is smilingly content at his or her growth, floating breezily through this fallen world? Healthy Christians are confounded at their slow pace of growth. This is the blessed frustration of a heart alive to God and joy and beauty.

Remember, however, that slow growth is still real growth. Consider the agricultural metaphors used all over the New Testament for our life in Christ (for example, Matthew 13:1–9; John 15:1–9; Hebrews 6:7). Flowers don’t blossom overnight — they blossom at the end of several months of varying conditions: day and night, sunny and cloudy, dry and wet, warmer and cooler. They’re growing, but it’s almost imperceptible day to day.

“The great danger is not that you grow slowly. The great danger is that you stop fighting to grow.”

The great danger is not that you grow slowly. The great danger is that you stop fighting to grow. In the economy of the gospel, fighting is winning. Don’t give up. Your frustration at your rate of growth itself reflects the Spirit’s presence in your life.

Slow growth is real growth.

You Have Everything You Need

Second, don’t let your friends or the Christian publishing industry or your own frantic heart have the effect of spiritual infomercials, sending the message that if you just get that particular resource or book or habit or doctrine or job, then discouragement will go poof. If you are in Christ — and every Christian is — then you have everything you need.

Discouragement about the state of your Christian life is the result not of lacking spiritual resources, but of losing reality with spiritual resources. A billionaire beggar’s problem is not lack of funds but lack of accessing those funds. “His divine power has granted us all things that pertain to life and godliness” (2 Peter 1:3). “In him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily, and you have been filled in him” (Colossians 1:9–10). Discouragement is so deadly because it can feel as if this is our new normal. We tend to think that now we are seeing clearly, and it will never pass. It feels like the only joy we’ll know from now on is fake joy. So we embrace cynicism as an emotional defense mechanism.

The way out of discouragement, however, is not to put up defenses, but to ask God to give us back reality with him. Often in discouragement, the Lord himself goes from reality to theory. We remain theists, but in our heart, we quietly demote him from actual Savior to abstract Savior. Silence your discouraging thoughts by doggedly putting your full weight on all that is yours already in Christ: adoption, forgiveness, reconciliation, liberation, returned dignity, and all the rest.

I’m not saying you won’t be helped by ordering and reading an excellent Christian book, or by joining that small group. Yes, there may be resources and practices you need to “add” to your life. But in terms of the deep structures of how we overcome discouragement, we are equipped with everything we need at the moment of conversion for the rest of life’s battle. We are united to Christ. The Spirit dwells within us. We have been plucked up out of the old age and placed in the dawning new age. We are justified, and the logic of the New Testament is that we are not able to get “de-justified” any more than Jesus is able to get kicked out of heaven and put back in the tomb of Joseph of Arimathea.

You have everything you need.

Christ Is Bigger Than You Imagine

Third, “consider Jesus” (Hebrews 3:1). When Lucy sees Aslan on her second journey into Narnia in Prince Caspian, she is surprised at what she sees:

“Aslan,” said Lucy, “you’re bigger.”“That is because you are older, little one,” answered he.“Not because you are?”“I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger.” (380)

Spiritual growth does not lessen how much is left to explore in Christ. Spiritual growth takes us unendingly into new discoveries of Christ. Our growth is a growth in apprehension of Christ. Paul speaks of his “unsearchable riches” (Ephesians 3:8). The Jesus you’re bored with isn’t the real Jesus. The problem is you, not him. The real Jesus is unsearchable and irresistible.

“The Jesus you’re bored with isn’t the real Jesus.”

In your discouragement, plunge deeper in Jesus Christ than ever before. Collapse onto him with greater abandon than ever before. Pour out your heart to him. Wrestle with him. Freshly surrender to him. Whatever you do, don’t look elsewhere other than Jesus as you seek to outgrow your discouragement, like a toddler looking everywhere except to his or her own mother when tired and hungry.

Consider the possibility that you have unwittingly domesticated the real Christ. Perhaps, like Columbus hitting the Caribbean and thinking he was in Asia, without realizing there was a vast unexplored continent that would later be called North America, there are vast regions in the real Christ you have yet to discover.

That journey of exploration will not make the discouragements go away. But it will buoy your heart above them. Armed with a fountain of fresh discoveries of Christ, you can dance your way through the Normandy Beach of this life.

He’s an endless Christ. Let him loom above your discouragements, fortifying you afresh. You don’t need an easier life. You need a bigger Christ.

Heaven Is Coming

Fourth and finally, remember: final rest is just around the next bend. Heaven is near. Nearer now than when you began this article (Romans 13:11–12). Paradise and peace are creeping toward you, and none in Christ can evade their blessed capture.

And here’s the astonishing promise of the New Testament, clinched in Christ’s own resurrection, to which your own fate has been inevitably bound: every earthly discouragement will one day fold back on itself and become part of your final resplendence (Romans 8:28).

You’re almost home. Nothing can derail you. Not even you. When you fall, take his hand and get up. Jesus Christ is walking you to heaven with his arm around you. When you fail, look up into his eyes and let him freshly dignify and calm you. You belong to him. Be at peace, and keep trudging forward, repenting and rejoicing your way toward your life’s sunset.

In a 1942 letter to a woman discouraged with her sinful habits, C.S. Lewis wrote,

I know all about the despair of overcoming chronic temptations. It is not serious provided self-offended petulance, annoyance at breaking records, impatience etc doesn’t get the upper hand. No amount of falls will really undo us if we keep on picking ourselves up each time. We shall of course be very muddy and tattered children by the time we reach home. But the bathrooms are all ready, the towels put out, and the clean clothes are airing in the cupboard. (Collected Letters, 2:507)

See you there.