Who He Says I Am

Preached by Pastor Chad Rickenbaker on June 14, 2026  |  1 Peter 1:1–2

New series: 1 Peter

Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ, To the pilgrims of the Dispersion in Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia, elect according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, in sanctification of the Spirit, for obedience and sprinkling of the blood of Jesus Christ: Grace to you and peace be multiplied.  —1 Peter 1:1–2 (NKJV)

Have you ever had someone look at you and essentially ask, “Who do you think you are?” Maybe it was a frustrated parent, a frustrated coworker, or someone who just felt challenged by your confidence. Usually that question comes with a little edge to it. But I want to flip it on its head this morning and ask it a different way: Who do you think you are? And more importantly—where did you get that answer?

So much of how we live—how we relate to people, how we approach God, how we handle hard days—flows directly from how we see ourselves. And here’s the thing: most of us have let someone or something other than God write that story for us. A parent. A coach. A failure we can’t quite shake. A career we’ve built our whole identity around.

I want to suggest to you that the perspective that matters most is God’s perspective. And the beautiful thing is—he hasn’t left us to wonder. He’s told us. It’s right there in his Word.

This past Sunday, we opened a new study in 1 Peter. It’s a letter written near the end of Peter’s life to persecuted believers who were suffering and wondering how to hold on. And before Peter gets to the first instruction, before he lays out a single command, he spends the first two verses telling these believers who they are. Four things. Four powerful things God says about you.

1. Your Life Is Defined by God’s Grace

Peter begins this letter with one word: “Peter.” That might seem unremarkable. But when you know Peter’s story, that one word is staggering.

Remember, “Peter” wasn’t even his given name. He was Simon—until the day Andrew brought him to Jesus, and Jesus gave him a new name:

And he brought him to Jesus. Now when Jesus looked at him, He said, “You are Simon the son of Jonah. You shall be called Cephas” (which is translated, A Stone).  —John 1:42

It was a name that pointed not to who Simon had been, but to who Jesus would make him. And what a story stands between that name and the man who lived it out.

Peter is the man who walked on water—and then sank:

And Peter answered Him and said, “Lord, if it is You, command me to come to You on the water.” So He said, “Come.” And when Peter had come down out of the boat, he walked on the water to go to Jesus. But when he saw that the wind was boisterous, he was afraid; and beginning to sink he cried out, saying, “Lord, save me!” And immediately Jesus stretched out His hand and caught him, and said to him, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?”  —Matthew 14:28–31

He’s the man who confessed Jesus as the Son of God:

Simon Peter answered and said, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”  —Matthew 16:16

And then, minutes later, he started rambling on the Mount of Transfiguration while Moses and Elijah were literally standing right there, until God himself had to interrupt him—essentially, “Hush, Peter. This is my Son. Listen to him”:

Now after six days Jesus took Peter, James, and John his brother, led them up on a high mountain by themselves; and He was transfigured before them. His face shone like the sun, and His clothes became as white as the light. And behold, Moses and Elijah appeared to them, talking with Him. Then Peter answered and said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here; if You wish, let us make here three tabernacles: one for You, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” While he was still speaking, behold, a bright cloud overshadowed them; and suddenly a voice came out of the cloud, saying, “This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased. Hear Him!”  —Matthew 17:1–5

And then there’s the night Jesus was arrested. Peter, with fire in his belly, drew his sword and cut off a man’s ear:

Then Simon Peter, having a sword, drew it and struck the high priest’s servant, and cut off his right ear. The servant’s name was Malchus.  —John 18:10

Bold. And then, a few hours later, he stood by a fire in a courtyard and—with oaths and cursing—denied three times that he even knew the man:

Now Peter sat outside in the courtyard. And a servant girl came to him, saying, “You also were with Jesus of Galilee.” But he denied it before them all, saying, “I do not know what you are saying.” And when he had gone out to the gateway, another girl saw him and said to those who were there, “This fellow also was with Jesus of Nazareth.” But again he denied with an oath, “I do not know the Man!” And a little later those who stood by came up and said to Peter, “Surely you also are one of them, for your speech betrays you.” Then he began to curse and swear, saying, “I do not know the Man!” Immediately a rooster crowed. And Peter remembered the word of Jesus who had said to him, “Before the rooster crows, you will deny Me three times.” So he went out and wept bitterly.  —Matthew 26:69–75

If you were Peter, how easy would it have been to go back to your old name? To say, “I forfeited the right to be called Peter. That name belongs to who Jesus thought I could be—not who I actually turned out to be.”

But Peter doesn’t do that. He introduces himself as Peter. Why? Because he understood that his life wasn’t defined by his worst moment. It was defined by God’s grace. He could say—along with Paul:

But by the grace of God I am what I am, and His grace toward me was not in vain; but I labored more abundantly than they all, yet not I, but the grace of God which was with me.  —1 Corinthians 15:10

Maybe you came to church this past Sunday carrying that one thing. That pattern of sin you can’t break. That mistake you can’t move past. And it’s defining you—more than anything else. More than your relationships, more than your accomplishments, more than the person God is making you into.

Can I gently say: that’s not how God sees you? You might say, “I don’t deserve his grace.” And I’d say: you’re right. Neither did Peter. That’s what makes it grace.

2. Your Life Is Defined by God’s Calling

Peter goes on: “Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 1:1). Not Peter, CEO of the Galilean Fish Company. Not Peter, charter boat captain. Not Peter, failed disciple. His identity wasn’t rooted in his career. It was rooted in his calling.

Here’s a question worth sitting with: What’s your purpose? And who told you?

Our culture has a ready answer. It usually comes in the form of that early question in any new conversation: “So, what do you do?” And before long, we start answering that question not just with our job title but with our whole identity. We take on the persona. We dress the part, talk the part, become the part.

But God calls you to something bigger. Just before Jesus left his disciples, he told them what their lives were now for:

Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all things that I have commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age. Amen.  —Matthew 28:19–20

And he said it again as he ascended:

But you shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you shall be witnesses to Me in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.  —Acts 1:8

Every scholar I’ve ever read agrees—that commission wasn’t just for the eleven standing there. It passes down to every disciple since.

Your calling is to be a disciple maker. And here’s the key: your job isn’t competing with that calling. Your job is the platform for it. Whatever career path God put you on, whatever neighborhood he planted you in, whatever stage of life you’re in—that’s your mission field. That’s where you live out who God says you are.

Do you know any firemen? Any nurses? Any teachers? I’d bet names come to mind immediately. Now: do you know any disciple makers? That’s the question.

3. Your Life Is Defined by Your Citizenship

Peter addresses his letter to “the pilgrims of the dispersion” (1 Peter 1:1). Sojourners. Aliens. People living in a place that isn’t their permanent home.

That’s us.

This world is not our home. Heaven is. And when you live with that perspective—really live with it, not just as a theological fact but as a daily reality—it changes everything. It strengthens you against the pressure this culture puts on you to conform. As Paul wrote:

I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service. And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God.  —Romans 12:1–2

It gives you staying power when life gets hard. It reorients your values. Hebrews 11 tells us about the people who lived exactly this way—who died in faith, never having received the promise in this life, and yet kept going:

These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off were assured of them, embraced them and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth. For those who say such things declare plainly that they seek a homeland. And truly if they had called to mind that country from which they had come out, they would have had opportunity to return. But now they desire a better, that is, a heavenly country. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared a city for them.  —Hebrews 11:13–16

And the chapter presses on into a roll call of the faithful—some who conquered kingdoms, and some who were tortured, imprisoned, and killed—people of whom the world was not worthy, who endured because they were looking for that better country:

And what more shall I say? For the time would fail me to tell of Gideon and Barak and Samson and Jephthah, also of David and Samuel and the prophets: who through faith subdued kingdoms, worked righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of weakness were made strong, became valiant in battle, turned to flight the armies of the aliens. Women received their dead raised to life again. Others were tortured, not accepting deliverance, that they might obtain a better resurrection. Still others had trial of mockings and scourgings, yes, and of chains and imprisonment. They were stoned, they were sawn in two, were tempted, were slain with the sword. They wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins, being destitute, afflicted, tormented—of whom the world was not worthy. They wandered in deserts and mountains, in dens and caves of the earth. And all these, having obtained a good testimony through faith, did not receive the promise, God having provided something better for us, that they should not be made perfect apart from us.  —Hebrews 11:32–40

When you know this world isn’t the last word, you can endure a whole lot more of it.

4. Your Life Is Defined by God’s Election

Peter calls his readers “elect according to the foreknowledge of God the Father” (1 Peter 1:2). There’s a word that makes some people excited and makes others immediately tense up. I get it. But here’s what I want to say: don’t skip it. If there’s a word in God’s Word you don’t fully understand, the answer isn’t to flip past it. There’s a blessing in it—if you’ll receive it.

The blessing is this: from God’s vantage point, you as a believer in the Lord Jesus Christ are his chosen. He sees you that way. And look at what Peter packs into that one verse—the whole Trinity is there: the Father choosing you, the Spirit sanctifying you, the Son’s blood covering you.

What that means practically is this: your salvation isn’t on shaky ground. It isn’t dependent on your faithfulness on your worst day:

being confident of this very thing, that He who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ.  —Philippians 1:6

When Peter was writing to people who were suffering and wondering if their faith would hold—this was the word they needed. And it’s the word we need too.

So—Who Does He Say You Are?

You are defined by his grace—not your failures.

You are defined by his calling—not your career.

You are defined by your citizenship—and your home is in heaven.

You are defined by his election—chosen, secure, and held.

What came in the door with you this week? What’s been defining you? My prayer is that you’d let God’s Word rewrite that story. Because the perspective that matters most is his—and he says you are his.

Scripture references in this message: 1 Peter 1:1–2; John 1:42; Matthew 14:28–31; Matthew 16:16; Matthew 17:1–5; John 18:10; Matthew 26:69–75; 1 Corinthians 15:10; Matthew 28:19–20; Acts 1:8; Romans 12:1–2; Hebrews 11:13–16, 32–40; Philippians 1:6. (NKJV)

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Scripture taken from the New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved.