The Twelfth Apostle [Acts 9:1-30] (19 August 2001)

Accompanying Presentation (opens in a new window)

Since the first week of July we have been learning from the first few chapters of Acts. Today will be the seventh message of nine messages in this series. Let us recap what we have learnt so far. In the first sermon on Acts 1 we saw that the disciples were told to wait for the outpouring of the Spirit because the Spirit would usher in a new era during which we need to be very sensitive to the promptings of the Spirit. Each situation that confronts us needs to be evaluated for its own merit. What worked yesterday might not work today.

Then from Acts 2 we saw that the death and resurrection of Jesus had changed things at a cosmic level. So great was the change that the new age of the Spirit had begun while the old age characterized by enmity to the Spirit was still around. The two ages inevitably clash because their agendas are different. The old age is ruled by death while the new age of the Spirit is characterized by life in Jesus.

In the third sermon we saw that healing happens today precisely because the Spirit works to reverse death. We saw that the barrenness of Sarah, Rebecca, and Rachel, like illnesses and debilitating conditions, are but a sign of the reign of death which God has overcome in the death and resurrection of Jesus. However, there is no formula for healing. We can only depend on God’s initiative and hope that he stretches his hand in response to our pleas.

Then from three stories in Acts 4, 5, & 6 we learnt that the Spirit promotes a form of life in the church that is drastically contrary to other forms of life to which we are used. While the old age tells us to seek prestige and look to money for security, the Spirit produces humility and asks us to find security in God. While the old age tells us to make people dependent on us so as to hold on to power, the Spirit asks us to willingly give away our power, to empower others so that he can work through others.

n Acts 7 we dealt with the martyrdom of Stephen. We saw that he was open to the realm of heaven in which the death of Jesus is given cosmic significance that runs contrary to the curse of Deuteronomy 21.23. And we saw that Stephen imitated Jesus in his death—a death of which Saul of Tarsus was a witness. We saw that the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church.

Last week we learnt from Act 8 about the effect that Saul’s persecution and Stephen’s death had on the church. We saw that persecution is a foolish thing to undertake because it forces the church to behave like a body. We also saw that the suffering servant passage in Isaiah 53 applies to Jesus but not to Jesus alone. Rather, it applies to all who follow Jesus. I ended the sermon with a call to recovering this essential element of our calling in relation to the world.

Today we will learn from Acts 9 what happened to Saul—the feared persecutor of the church. Let us track Saul’s journeys in Acts 9. At the beginning of the chapter he is in Jerusalem and on his way to Damascus. As he nears Damascus, he sees a vision of Jesus. He is helped into the city where, after three days, Ananias comes to him and completes his conversion. He begins proclaiming the gospel and incurs the wrath of the Damascus Jews. He escapes from the city and returns to Jerusalem. Saul probably took different routes to and from Damascus that reflect the changes that he had undergone. On the way to Damascus, he probably avoided going through Samaria. He probably crossed over to the East bank of the Jordan around Jericho and then returned to the West bank around Scythopolis. At the Southern end of the Sea of Galilee he probably crossed the Jordan again before proceeding in a Northeasterly direction to Damascus. This route would have served three purposes: avoid Samaria; avoid the deserts; and keep the hilly terrain to a minimum. On the way back to Jerusalem he probably went by a hillier route, crossing the Jordan North of the Sea of Galilee. Then to keep contact with Jews to a minimum, he probably went through Samaria and finally to Jerusalem. There he meets the leaders of the early church and is befriended by Barnabas. Saul begins proclaiming Jesus in Jerusalem and some Jews again plot to kill him. He is then sent to Caesarea—where if you remember Philip is—and from there to his hometown Tarsus.

Something happened to Saul on that road to Damascus that changed him from a persecutor of the church to a defender of the faith. We will dig deep to uncover what happened to Saul. But first let us hear the text for today. I have asked Clem to read the text for us.

Thanks Clem.

Do you know that there is a similarity between Jesus and Judas? Both of them died hanging from a tree. Given what we know about Judas what would you say if you met someone who claimed that Judas was God’s deliverer? Would you nod your head politely, thinking all the while, “This person’s quite insane”? Or would you present objections to this person’s claims and try to convince him that his claims were faulty? Or would you initiate legal proceedings against this person for holding such a belief? This final option seems quite unlikely. After all, we live in a country where the freedom to adhere to one’s beliefs is upheld. The church and state travel parallel tracks that do not meet. But what if you were living in a country where religion and politics are knit together in a bond somewhat like marriage? And what if the measure of both your faith and your patriotism depended on your taking precisely such a drastic measure as Saul did?

If you can imagine what such a world would be like, you will have, at least in part, entered the world of Saul of Tarsus. A practicing Pharisee, Saul was educated by Gamaliel, whom we read about in Acts 5. The attitude of patience toward the church that Gamaliel advocates seems to indicate that he belonged to the school of the Rabbi Hillel, a liberal Pharisee, who was the founder of one of the two main branches of Pharisaism in the first century.

Like any good student, Saul did not agree with his teacher on all counts. And the issue of leniency toward blasphemers was one of the issues over which he disagreed. Blasphemers should be dealt with as suggested in Torah—killed by stoning. And so Saul supervised the stoning of Stephen. Over this issue Saul agreed with the more conservative school of Rabbi Shammai than with the school of Hillel. It is quite possible that the leniency of the Hillelites fit poorly with the zeal he had for God’s truth. He quite probably went over to the school of Shammai.

But why did Saul think that the early Christians were blasphemers? In the sermon on Stephen, we saw that because Jesus died on the cross, he was evidently under the curse of Deuteronomy 21.23. Saul would have known about the manner in which Jesus had died. He also would have heard from other Pharisees that Jesus had been doing miracles by the power of Satan. That is, after all, an accusation leveled against Jesus by the Pharisees in the Gospels. To Saul, therefore, Jesus was a sorcerer, a magician, a messenger of the prince of darkness, who was deceiving the Jews so as to worship demons rather than God. And Deuteronomy 21.18-23 is clear about what should be done to such people. They were to be put to death on a tree.

So Saul concluded that Jesus was under the curse of Deuteronomy 21.23 because he had tried to lead the Jews away from worshipping God. According to Saul, God had vindicated himself by putting Jesus to death.

But along comes this bunch of Galileans—uneducated, untrained, and unsophisticated. And they were saying that this Jesus was alive and they were doing miracles like Jesus. So Saul concluded, if Jesus had been working with Satan, surely his disciples also were. And they were lying about what God did to Jesus. After all, if Jesus was under God’s curse how could he be alive? And how could he have been God’s deliverer? That was absurd. God’s deliverer was to be victorious over the enemies of Israel, but Jesus was put to death by Pontius Pilate, an official of the enemy. Jesus could not have been God’s deliverer. He was only a seducer of God’s people. He deserved to die. And the followers of Jesus also deserved to die because, like Jesus, they were lying about God.

It is in light of such thinking that we should see Saul’s persecution of the church. He was not an evil man. He was not killing for pleasure. His persecution was not sadistic or malicious. Rather, he was being as true as one could get to Deuteronomy 21.23.

With such zeal he gets a warrant for the arrest of the Christians in Damascus. Now on Saul’s way from Jerusalem to Damascus, something happens to him that changes his perspective completely. He sees a bright light, is blinded by it, and hears a voice that asks him, “Why do you persecute me?” Saul responds with a question, “Who are you, Lord?” to which the voice replies, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting.” A very brief exchange between Saul and Jesus but one so filled with power that the way in which Saul viewed the world changed.

“Who are you, Lord?” This is Saul’s question. During his ministry, Jesus asked his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” Saul gets at the same issue but from a different angle. Jesus’ question starts with the knowledge of Jesus and then moves to identify him in terms of known categories—a prophet, or Elijah, or Messiah. Saul’s question starts by acknowledging that the person addressing him was Lord and then associates a name with the office. This difference is crucial. Let me explain. During his ministry, Jesus’ disciples had full access to him. They knew his habits, his manner of speaking, the things he did, and the way he treated others. Given this knowledge of him, he was asking his disciples to fit him into a known category. Soon after Peter says that Jesus is the Messiah, Jesus rebukes him for not understanding the Messiah’s call. In other words, even the office of Messiah, into which we think Jesus perfectly fits, was not so clearly defined as to fully describe Jesus. Jesus, one could say, was a square peg in a world filled with circular holes. In fact, no human can be adequately described by predetermined categories. Therefore, we should avoid labeling people for a label produces a one-dimensional caricature, not a whole human.

In contrast to the disciples, Saul starts with the confession that the person addressing him was Lord. Saul had identified the hole correctly. He now had to find the peg that fit. Saul could not have started where the disciples did. After all, he had no personal knowledge of Jesus. All his information was hearsay. He could only start by identifying the role. But what did he see? What made him conclude that the person talking to him was Lord? And what did it mean to say that someone was Lord?

Luke actually provides us with this information in Saul’s words. But after twenty centuries of Christianity we have become blind to it. Luke tells us that, after Ananias ministered to him, Saul began to proclaim that Jesus is the Son of God.

Now the phrase ‘Son of God’ is a title. And it does not imply deity. In the Old Testament, the Israelite king was called ‘son of God.’ Prime examples are 2 Samuel 7.14 and Psalm 2.7. Israel itself is called ‘son of God.’ Hosea 11.1 is one example. In other words, ‘son of God’ refers either to God’s king, or to God’s people, or to both.

Here a word of explanation is in order. I affirm Jesus’ full deity. At the same time I also insist that Jesus’ deity rests not on the title ‘Son of God’ but on the witness of the earliest Christians that he revealed God perfectly. In other words, Jesus is God but not because Jesus is called ‘Son of God.’ We should resist the temptation of reading into the New Testament concepts that were hammered out during the ecumenical councils of the 4th and 5th centuries. That would not only be irresponsible, but would obscure what scripture is attempting to tell us.

So by calling Jesus ‘Son of God’, Saul was saying that Jesus was God’s king and an essential part of God’s people. Being an essential part of God’s people meant not being under God’s curse.

So let’s go back to Saul’s question: Who are you, Lord? By identifying the person speaking to him as ‘Lord’ Saul was identifying the person as king. But more importantly, because Saul was a member of God’s people, he was saying that the person addressing him was Israel’s king. The person was at the right hand of God and was reigning over the world. The person was God’s anointed one or Messiah.

Can you imagine what Saul felt when he saw the heavenly vision? In Isaiah 6, we hear of Isaiah’s vision of God sitting on the throne of heaven. Isaiah did not plan the vision any more than Saul did. Rather, just as heaven opened up to Isaiah, heaven opened up to Saul. Both of them were, as it were, summoned into the throne room of the universe to catch a glimpse of the real situation. Isaiah recognized Yahweh as the one on the throne.

Saul, however, grasped for a name by which to call the king. “Who are you, Lord?” or “I know you are king. But what is your name?” And given that in the bible one’s name reflects one’s character, Saul was asking, “What is your character?” or in context, “What kind of a king are you?”

“What kind of a king are you?” Why did Saul have to ask this? What did he see that was shaking him? Luke provides us with no clues. But in order to explain Saul’s transformation from one who inflicted suffering on others to one who desired to suffer with Jesus and for Jesus, I believe there is only one answer. Saul saw something similar to what John saw in Revelation 5. In that vision God holds the scroll of history and asks for someone worthy to come and open it—that is, put history into motion. Initially no one is deemed worthy and John begins to weep. Then an angel tells him, “Do not weep. See, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has conquered, so that he can open the scroll and its seven seals.” John turns to look. But, instead of seeing a fierce lion, roaring loudly, and spreading terror, he sees a slain lamb standing before God. A weak slain lamb held the authority to unveil history.

I believe Saul saw something like this vision. He saw someone at the right hand of God who could only be God’s king. But—and this is crucial—this person bore the marks of crucifixion!

“Who are you?” he asks. “This does not fit my picture of a king. Yet this one is a king. What kind of a king is this? How does he rule and conquer?” And the answer stared him in the face: This is a king who has conquered by dying willingly for others—a strange way to rule, an absurd way to conquer. What could Saul do? His theology and his experience clashed. His doctrine said that God’s king would vanquish God’s enemies and kill them. His vision said that God’s king vanquished God’s enemies by letting them kill him. Something had to give. The conflict between theology and experience was tearing him apart.

Now I have often heard Christians say that we cannot base our theology on experience. I have heard them say that we move from doctrine to practice. But here we have a valuable corrective because Saul surrenders his theology in light of his experience. His vision altered his doctrine. Many of us might feel uncomfortable with this. But if we believe in a God who reveals himself with wisdom that seems foolish and strength that seems weak then we cannot have it any other way! After all, to believe that God reveals himself is to believe that apart from this revelation we would be ignorant of God.

At the same time, it does not mean that experience always holds sway. As I just said, we have here a valuable corrective—something that brings the issue back into balance. Theology and experience are two sides of the same coin that comprises faith. There may be times when we need to hold on dearly to our theology despite all evidence to the contrary in our experience. And at times our experience might be so strong as to require a change in theology. Theology and experience are not related in a static one-directional manner. Rather, it is a dynamic two-way street with each affecting the other.

Now we don’t have to be ashamed that, at times, we rely on our experiences. That would be a cause for shame only if we assumed, as the heirs of the Enlightenment incorrectly assumed, that thought is the highest capacity of humans. That is blatantly unscriptural because according to Genesis 1 the highest capacity of humans is to imitate God.

And this is what changes Saul. In his vision he sees that God was quite pleased with his king. Otherwise, God would not have exalted the king to his right hand. This means, of course, that God had declared that his king had perfectly imitated him.

So Saul asks, “Who are you?” It is not enough to know that God’s king has conquered by dying, that God’s character is revealed most clearly in the submission of the king to undeserved death. The identity of this king is all-important. “What is your name?” is what Saul asks and Jesus tells Saul his name. Yeshua. That is Jesus’ name in Hebrew. And it means Yahweh is the Deliverer. Jesus’ name encapsulates his role. He is the one through whom Yahweh delivers his people. And the deliverance comes through his death.

Having received this revelation, Saul is left with it—and only it—for three days. He is blinded so that the vision could work on him. For if he had been able to see, the things he saw—primarily the fact that the Romans still ruled over the Jews—would have distracted him from the vision and made him doubt its veracity. Three days of sheer darkness that nevertheless shone a bright light on the way things really were. Jesus was alive! He was God’s king. But what about the crucifixion? What about the curse of Deuteronomy 21.23? And Saul then realized why Stephen died as he did, why he was able to forgive even as he was being killed. Jesus, by virtue of his innocence, had placed himself under the curse—and had transformed it into a blessing. Death was now not something to be feared. Rather, death was but a doorway to Jesus’ presence. Indeed, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. That was what enabled Stephen to die in faith. And what fruit his death produced!

In the first sermon on Acts I had said that the decision to find a replacement for Judas was wrong. I had said that Jesus had a twelfth apostle in mind. That is what Stephen’s death made possible. Saul, Jesus’ twelfth apostle, first encountered Jesus in the death of Stephen. At the time, he viewed this willingness to die as a crutch, a sign of weakness. However, when Jesus showed him that it was through this weakness that he had conquered, Saul became Jesus’ twelfth apostle. Like Isaiah who, upon receiving the vision of Yahweh on the throne, was sent with a mission, so Saul, upon receiving the vision of Jesus on the throne, was sent with a mission.

So what does all this mean for us today? Jesus still sends people, and in this sense we could say some people have apostolic ministries. But there are only twelve apostles of the original kind. At the same time, there is much to be done. Large parts of the world are non-Christian or nominally Christian.

Later in Acts Saul—then called Paul—says that he was not disobedient to the heavenly vision. Now you and I may not feel called to be great evangelists as Paul was. But have you received any such vision? Has God shown you something? Is some concern gnawing at you? Do you lose sleep over it? Does it occupy your waking thoughts? If so, I urge you to share the vision. You never know who else will catch the vision and fly with you. You never know if your vision is only a part of a larger vision.

And if you haven’t received a vision, it does not mean that life goes on as usual without any change on your part. All of us can ask ourselves a few questions. Why don’t we all just demonstrate more love instead of being torn apart by hatred or indifference? Why don’t we share both our joys and sorrows rather than being afraid of appearing vulnerable? Why don’t we actively work to bring peace instead of supporting explicitly or implicitly all sorts of violence and war? Can we not act with patience rather than in haste? Why haven’t we treated each other with kindness instead of being rude? Why do we not consider the welfare of others before ours instead of looking out for number one? Why don’t we exercise self-control rather than be tossed about by every fickle fad? Why would anyone want to be like us when we are no different from most others?

The Blood of the Martyrs [Acts 6.8-8.1a] (5 August 2001)

Accompanying Presentation (opens in a new window)

During the past few weeks we have been breezing through the first few chapters of the book of Acts. In the first sermon on Acts 1 we saw that the disciples were told to wait for the outpouring of the Spirit because the Spirit would usher in a new era during which we need to be very sensitive to the promptings of the Spirit. Things that worked one day might not work the next. This age of the Spirit is one of fascinating possibilities. 

However, from Acts 2 we saw that the death and resurrection of Jesus had changed things at a cosmic level. So great was the change that the new era of the Spirit had begun while the old era characterized by enmity to the Spirit was still around. This brings about an inevitable clash because the agendas of the two eras are different. The old era is one ruled by death while the new era of the Spirit is characterized by life in Jesus. 

In fact, in the third sermon we saw that healing is possible today precisely because the Spirit works to reverse death of which illness and debilitating conditions are but a sign. However, there is no formula for healing. We can only depend on God’s initiative and hope that he stretches his hand in response to our pleas. 

Finally, last Sunday we saw from three stories in Acts 4, 5, & 6 that the Spirit engenders a form of life in the church that is drastically contrary to other forms of life to which we are used. While the old era tells us to seek prestige and look to money for security, the Spirit produces humility and asks us to find security in God. While the old era tells us to make people dependent on us so as to hold on to power, the Spirit asks us to willingly give away our power, to empower others so that he can work through others.

Today we are dealing with the first Christian martyr—Stephen. At the end of the text we will hear today Stephen is stoned. The slide shows stones found at a site where people were stoned to death. Some of these stones were as big as a person’s head. Stoning, being an act of collective murder, allowed the Israelites to kill offenders without any one person bearing the guilt. It was the punishment for blasphemy, idolatry, and various sexual sins.

Now Luke introduced us to Stephen in chapter 6 in connection with the food distribution problem. He was one of the people chosen to handle food distribution to the Greek-speaking widows. He and the other six were chosen because the apostles realize that their first calling was to proclaim the good news about Jesus. Hence, others had to be found to handle the food distribution. Luke tells us that Stephen was full of the Holy Spirit. And right after Luke tells us about the selection of the seven servers, he tells us about Stephen coming into conflict with the Jews. Something about Stephen made him a threat to the status quo. Let us briefly touch on what made him a threat.

We should not imagine that Stephen had discarded his responsibilities with regard to food distribution. Rather, it is probably in the context of fulfilling this responsibility that he found himself to be the channel of miracles. We can learn from this that it is impossible to circumscribe the ministry of a person full of the Spirit. Though he was selected to wait on tables, the Spirit drove him to go beyond this. Luke tells us that Stephen did many signs and wonders—two terms he reserves for the miracles of the apostles. In other words, so full of the Spirit was Stephen that he was empowered to have a ministry as effective and controversial as that of the apostles.

I say that his ministry was controversial because as soon as Luke tells us about the signs and wonders he moves to telling us about the conflict Stephen was drawn into. As with Jesus and the apostles, miracles, far from convincing everyone that they were from God, strengthened the disbelief of those already inclined to disbelieve. These people draw Stephen into a debate but find that his debating skills are too much for them. Luke tells us “they could not withstand the wisdom and the spirit with which he spoke.” In other words, being full of the Spirit, Stephen had incredible wisdom. The only example we have of this wisdom and spirit is the sermon that Luke records for us in chapter 7. So let us read the text for today and then try to understand what according to Luke were the wise and spirited things that Stephen said. I have asked Joe and Dwi to read for us the text for today.

Thanks.

As usual, there is much that can be said about the passage we have read. But having mentioned Stephen’s wisdom, let us try to see what that wisdom looked like from his sermon.

The first thing we need to see is that Stephen’s sermon is in response to a charge brought against him. When Stephen’s interlocutors were unable to withstand his wisdom, they brought false witnesses who said that Stephen held the view that Jesus would destroy the temple. 

Here we must understand what false witnesses are. According to the Old Testament, testimony was to be established through two or three witnesses. The testimony of the witnesses had to agree at every single point. Otherwise the witnesses were said to be false. They may not have been lying. But they were not able to substantiate each other’s accounts. 

So from what Luke tells us, it does not mean that Stephen did not say the things the witnesses said he said. Rather, the witnesses were unable to corroborate the circumstances under which and the manner in which he had made such statements. That this is the case is borne out by the fact that Stephen never denies the charge. Rather, given what Stephen says in his sermon, he actually accepts the charge but find nothing wrong with it.

So what does Stephen say in his sermon? He starts, as a Jew would, and as we should, with Abraham and God’s promises to Abraham. This is the background of biblical faith. It is the point at which God selects for himself a people through whom he would accomplish his purposes. Our faith is one that refers constantly to God’s dealings with his people through history. God’s choice of Abraham could be likened to the Emancipation Proclamation of 1862. It marked a new era. Keeping the analogy, the life, death, and resurrection could be likened to the end of the Civil Rights movement when the Emancipation Proclamation was fully realized.

After talking about Abraham Stephen merely mentions Isaac and Jacob and then focuses on Joseph. He brings a charge against Joseph’s brothers. God had told Abraham that his descendents would be slaves in another land. Here Stephen tells his audience that it was not as though God wanted them to be slaves. Rather, the jealousy of Joseph’s brothers resulted in the slavery, which admittedly God used for good.

Reminds me of the movie What About Bob? Richard Dreyfuss plays a psychiatrist upon whom is forced a person with agoraphobia, played by Bill Murray. Getting increasingly frustrated with his client, the psychiatrist subjects the client to what he calls death therapy. Though this is actually a ruse to kill Bill Murray’s character, by some strange twist, Bill Murray’s character is cured of his phobia and goes on to write a book on death therapy. Though the death therapy was intended for evil, good came out of it.

That is how God works much of the time in this sinful era. He did not kill Jesus, but used the death of Jesus to bring salvation to the world.From Joseph’s brothers Stephen then jumps centuries to the time of Moses. In response to his killing the Egyptian taskmaster, a Hebrew asks Moses, “Who made you a ruler and a judge over us?” Stephen mentions this not to justify Moses’ actions but to indicate the blindness of the Hebrews. They were unable to recognize God’s deliverer. And so Stephen tells the audience about the burning bush episode. And he then demonstrates that the answer to the question, “Who made you a ruler and a judge over us?” is “God!” God is the one who had chosen Moses to be ruler and liberator.

But the guilt of the Hebrews was not just that they did not recognize their deliverer. Even after he had been revealed, they refused to follow him. They forced Aaron to make idols for them. They kept turning from Yahweh to false gods. Though they had the tent of testimony in which was the presence of God, they found the false gods more appealing and indeed more comfortable to worship. Their behavior was like that of an alcoholic who repeatedly resorts to drinking because facing the real world is difficult and causes discomfort.

Finally, Stephen mentions David and the building of the temple by Solomon. In this regard Stephen quotes from Isaiah 66.1-2 to the effect that no physical building of any kind would be a sufficient residence for God.

Then Stephen accuses the Jews of being stiff-necked people like their ancestors. Now from the treatment of Joseph by his brothers, from the failure to recognize Moses as God’s deliverer, and from the repeated ventures into idolatry we can agree that Stephen’s accusation is well deserved. However, why does he precede his accusation with the quote from Isaiah?

There must be something in the Isaiah text that supported some view that Stephen presented that in turn gave rise to the charge that he spoke against the temple. The force of the passage from Isaiah is that God cannot be contained in any human artifice—including especially the temple. The temple, being as it were a spatial structure, could not be an appropriate residence for God. Moreover, humans cannot make anything out of nothing. That ability belongs to God. So anything humans would make for God would be from things already made by God. Therefore, the temple could only have been a shadow of a residence God had already made for himself.

Now the tent of testimony and the temple significantly were always supposed to be among the people of Israel. Hence, the tent of testimony went wherever the Israelites went during their years of wandering. And when God dispersed the Israelites from the land, the temple also had to be destroyed. For when we juxtapose the symbolism of the tent of testimony and of the temple with the words of Isaiah we understand that God dwells wherever his people are.

With this understanding Stephen probably mentioned Jesus’ words about the destruction of the temple. He probably told the Jews that there was a new temple—the church, a community with Jesus at its center. Quite naturally the Jews were ticked off. Here was this Greek-speaking Jew who was doing away with the temple—and with it obviously all the prescriptions in the Old Testament that were associated with the temple.

Because the Jews were unwilling to accept this new phase in God’s dealings with the world, Stephen compares them to their ancestors, who always opposed the Holy Spirit as seen in the examples from Joseph’s brothers, Moses’ rejection, and the repeated idolatry of the Israelites.

That was bad enough. But this upstart claimed that God was doing a new thing through Jesus! But Jesus was crucified. This meant that Jesus was under the curse of Deuteronomy 21.23 “anyone hung on a tree is under God’s curse.” How could God do something new through a cursed person? That was unthinkable!

And to top that Stephen calls Jesus the Righteous One. Not only had he said that the temple would be destroyed, but also that Jesus would destroy the temple. And he had the audacity to call Jesus righteous while he was evidently under the curse of Deuteronomy 21.23. It would be as though someone claimed that Dr. Kevorkian was the one who truly promoted life. What Stephen was saying was undermining the very foundations of the Old Testament.

But Stephen does not stop there. He is not satisfied with calling Jesus righteous. That would not mean anything for anyone could say anything about anyone with its necessarily being true. Rather, as he makes his confession that Jesus is righteous, he sees heaven open and sees Jesus standing before God. So he tells his audience what he sees. To say that he saw Jesus standing before God meant that God had substantiated his testimony about Jesus’ being righteous. Stephen and God therefore became two witnesses who brought true testimony that Jesus was righteous.

Now it was one thing to voice a personal opinion about Jesus. It was quite another to call God in as witness. If Jesus was crucified, which he was, then he must bear the curse of Deuteronomy 21.23. How then could God testify in Jesus’ favor? It would mean that God was going against his own words. That was tantamount to calling God a liar. And when Stephen called God in as a witness, it was too much for the Jews to bear. In their view Stephen had moved from disrespecting the temple, to lying about Jesus, to blaspheming by calling God a liar. And for that he needed to be stoned.

So in what way was Stephen wise? Being full of the Spirit, Stephen was open to another realm—that hidden realm we call heaven, in which there is a reality that transcends the reality available to our senses. He does not deny that Jesus was crucified. That would have been absurd for crucifixion was as public an event as one could have had in those days. Contrary to some contemporary faddish theories, no person in antiquity ever denied Jesus’ death on the cross. Everyone concerned agreed that Jesus was crucified. Where the disagreements came in was the meaning that people attached to Jesus’ crucifixion.

And here we have another clue concerning the wisdom of Stephen. When he calls Jesus the Righteous One, he reveals that scripture is not flat writing that has no nuances. On the face of it Jesus seems to be under the curse of Deuteronomy 21.23. The context of Deuteronomy assumes that the conviction of the individual is a just one. However, Stephen calls that assumption into question. He wisely recognized that a group of people could collectively convict an innocent person.Then he says that Jesus is standing in God’s presence. He then calls Jesus the Son of Man, a title that alludes to Daniel 7.13-14. He recognized that Jesus is the one to whom authority over the universe has been given.

With that unconventional knowledge Stephen boldly faced his stoning. But even with his last words he reveals this wisdom that he possessed. He says, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.” Where have we heard such words before? Theophilus, reading Luke’s second volume would recall Luke 23.34 where Jesus says, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” By saying something similar to what Jesus had said Stephen reveals this insight: the sacrificial forgiving way of Jesus is the way to conquer sin, Satan, and death.

But Stephen is not the only one with wisdom. Luke too reveals, by the way he writes, a wisdom that is unconventional. Right at the end of Stephen’s sermon, Luke introduces us to a person named Saul. He is the one who supervised Stephen’s stoning. Luke tells us, “And Saul approved of their killing him.” 

In chapter 5 Luke had introduced us to Gamaliel who had advocated patience. His student Saul, however, was full of zeal and wanted to do away with the follower of Jesus. But in so doing, Saul was exposed to Stephen who died in a manner similar to that in which Jesus had died. In the face of Stephen he saw the face of the man he believed was under God’s curse. But he wasn’t yet open to the realm to which Stephen was open. All Saul could see was the weakness of Jesus reflected in the weakness of Stephen.

But Luke knew that it was precisely this weakness that conquered Saul. After all, Saul would later, as the apostle Paul, write that the power and wisdom of God are made known through the crucifixion of Jesus which is the paradigmatic symbol of what is weak and foolish in the eyes of the present era.

The early church, when it was a minority movement, when it was persecuted, understood this wisdom. The early Christians understood that the power of God and his kingdom consisted in self-sacrificial love, in the willingness to die for the truth without resorting to the violent means employed by the present era. So the church father Origen wrote, “The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church.

”So what does God have to say to us through the story of Stephen? The church is not exempt from the charge of working against the Holy Spirit. Like our ancestors in the people of God, we are always testing and resisting the Holy Spirit.

First, we have for too long used the word “church” to refer to a building of some kind. We have lost sight of the fact that God does not reside in any structure. Rather, it is the community of followers of Jesus that is his residence. It is in the gathering of Jesus’ disciples that God is to be found and met. We have individualized God’s presence when Jesus tells us that when two or more of his followers gather in his name, he is there among them.

Second, we have bought into the idea that we can and may solve our problems through violence. We have for much of church history supported all kinds of wars and all sorts of inhumane punitive measures. We have agreed, at least tacitly, that might makes right. We have assumed that God is on the side of those who have won wars. 

Yet, Jesus is the one who, at his arrest, refused to resort to violence, who, at his trial before Pilate, told the Roman Proconsul that his followers did not resort to violence precisely because he was a king of a different kind of kingdom. Yet, in the fact of this we have resolutely refused to believe that the way of self-sacrifice is the way to God’s power and wisdom. We have justified our actions of violence by saying that to do otherwise would be unwise. But by so doing we have only said that we are willing to kill others to achieve our ends but are not willing to die for others as Jesus died.

Third, in the midst of all this, rather than repent and change, we lament the fact that the church is not growing or that it is growing lukewarm. We try all sorts of church growth strategies and still wonder why our churches may grow in number without affecting the surrounding culture the way the early church did. We hammer on our bibles and keep assuring ourselves that we are “going back to the bible.” The conservatives condemn the liberals for watering down the truth. The liberals condemn the conservatives for being too judgmental. And all the while the world around us is heading to hell in a hand basket. We wonder why. And we launch all sorts of programs rather than repent—What Would Jesus Do?; Focus On The Family; Campus Crusade. And we barely make a dent in the world around us. And we keep asking why. Why? Why? Why?

How dare we ask why? All the while the answer has been staring us in the face. “The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church.” But we have reduced Jesus’ message of the denial of ourselves to some nebulous individualized spiritual realm. We have forgotten the gory life to which Jesus calls us when he says, “Take up you cross.” He has called us to follow him in death. And we cling on to our lives. No wonder then that the church today is making as big an impact on the world as an ant biting an elephant. We are no longer agents of transformation but of irritation. Because we have forgotten or forsaken the truth that the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church.

To Obey God Rather than Humans [Acts 3.1-4.31 & 5.12-42] (22 July 2001)

Accompanying presentation (opens in a new window)

We started our series of nine sermons on Acts three Sundays back. I have been using and will be using a number of slides. There is a lot of material in all of these sermons not only because there is much historical and geographical information, but also because Acts is a pivotal book in the history of God’s dealings with the world. Some of you like taking notes and I do not wish to discourage that. However, jot down only things that stick out to you that are not on the slides. If you want the information on the slides, I can email you the relevant documents. Of course, if you wish to write everything, suit yourselves.

So let us recap what we have learnt so far. From Acts 1 we saw that we live in a new era in which we still need to learn to live in and walk in the Spirit; that Jesus calls no one without sending him or her back into the world as his ambassador; and that the life driven by the Spirit is one in which there are no strict patterns, in which what worked yesterday might not work today, and in which we are called to be ever sensitive to new ways of presenting the gospel.

From Acts 2 we saw that Peter’s sermon introduces two crucial differences in the expected Jewish timeline. First, the Messiah is rejected and killed by his own people rather than being accepted and then leading a violent revolt against Israel’s then primary political enemy—Rome. Second, the resurrection and the outpouring of the Spirit happen while Israel still remains under foreign rule. This implied that resurrection life is possible today and is a way of living that demonstrates that death has been defeated, that God’s new era is pressing in on this present era, and that to live in this new era is to undermine all the values of this present era that are not in accordance with God’s character.

Today we are dealing a series of events that Luke records in Acts 3, 4, & 5. The action is still in Jerusalem. It is a few days after the momentous event of Pentecost, when the Spirit was poured out in an unprecedented manner on the early church. Peter and John go to the temple for the afternoon prayer. They enter the temple through the Beautiful Gate, which is seen in the slide. Also known as the Golden Gate, it was the easternmost entrance to Jerusalem and led directly into the temple precincts. Since Peter and John enter from the East, they might have spent the night at Bethany, which is South-West of Jerusalem, as can be seen in the map.

The actual encounter between the apostles and the lame man took place in the temple precincts, at Solomon’s Portico. In the next slide we see Herod’s Temple, which dominated Jerusalem along with Herod’s Palace and the Antonia Fortress. Solomon’s Portico was nearest the Beautiful Gate at the Eastern end of the temple area. In the text for today we will see that the early Christians had the habit of gathering at Solomon’s Portico. This indicates two things. First, the apostles did not see going to the temple as being contradictory to their faith in Jesus. How could they? Jesus himself had made a practice of going to the temple when he was in Jerusalem, and to synagogues when he was outside Jerusalem. Second, the fact that they went to the temple at designated hours of prayer indicates that they saw temple attendance as being one way of expressing their faith in Jesus.

So what does God have to say to us today through these events that Luke has recorded? For that we need first to hear what Luke recorded. Since we have an extremely large portion of text for today, I have asked Adelina and Alice to assist me in reading.

Thanks.

Now there is a lot that I could explain or preach on from the text we have heard. However, for NUPC today I believe God would have us consider first the miracle itself, second, the relationship the miracle has to Peter’s sermon, and third, what all of this means for us today.

So let us consider the miracle. Peter and John are walking to the temple, as they were accustomed to doing. Quite out of the blue the lame man asks them for alms. Peter immediately moves to proclaim healing of the man in the name of Jesus. What do you think provokes such boldness in Peter? I think, first, that Peter realized the proverb “give a man a fish and you feed him for a day, teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime.” Peter understood that if he gave the man alms, the man would be asking for alms the next day also. Peter realized the man’s dilemma.

Second, the man recognized that he was in need though having been lame since birth for over forty years he could not imagine a long-term solution. Peter, however, understood that the way out of the man’s vicious cycle was through the long-term solution of healing. Peter recognized the man’s true physical need.

Third, Peter remembered that Jesus had healed a number of people with all sorts of ailments. He recalled that Jesus had accompanied his miracles with two remarkable statements: “If I, by the Spirit of God, cast out demons, then the kingdom of God has come among you” and “with God nothing is impossible.” And Jesus’ miracles seemed to bear out these statements. Yes, Peter remembered Jesus’ words and deeds.

Fourth, Peter knew that only recently he had experienced the outpouring of the Spirit—the same Spirit by which Jesus had done his miracles. And Jesus had said that the giving of the Spirit was so that Jesus’ disciples could do greater works than Jesus had done. So Peter knew that, in this age of the Spirit, God would heal people just as he had done during the ministry of Jesus. Peter knew that the Spirit healed people.

Fifth, the man could have asked anyone else for money. There were certainly many people at that time since it was the hour of afternoon prayer. So Peter took the lame man’s act of asking John and him for money as a sign that God was ready to heal the man. Peter acted when he recognized a sign from God.

So with the assurance that God was moving to do in this man’s life what he had done in the life of others during the ministry of Jesus, Peter speaks the words of healing. Unlike Jesus, however, who pronounced healing directly, Peter is careful to speak the words in the name of Jesus. Now the phrase “in the name of Jesus” does not mean that Jesus’ name has some kind of power attached to it. Rather, the phrase is a Jewish idiom that can be paraphrased “by the authority of Jesus.” So when we speak “in the name of Jesus” we are not saying some magical formula but are claiming to be acting as Jesus’ agents. In Acts 3, it is by the authority of Jesus that the healing is accomplished for it is he who has poured out the Spirit of healing.

But does the miracle have anything to do with Peter’s sermon? Many commentators, scholars, and preachers approach the miracle as though Peter merely it as an excuse to preach the gospel. However, in order to understand either the miracle or the sermon, we must understand both and also that both actually go together. Peter was not walking around with a prepared evangelistic sermon that he just whipped out of his pocket. Rather, something about the miracle—or rather what the miracle indicates—made Peter say what he did.

The crucial sentence to understanding how Peter relates the healing to Jesus’ resurrection is in Acts 3.13. Peter says, “The God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, the God of our ancestors has glorified his servant Jesus.” We often read these words in the bible—especially in the Old Testament. And we often hear these words in our worship songs or in sermons. However, what do we think these words mean? It means much, much more than just a statement that Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob worshipped the one true God.

So what in the world was Peter driving at? In order to understand that we need to briefly consider the stories in Genesis about the three patriarchs.

When we encounter Abraham in Genesis, he is already an old man. God asks him to leave his birth land and go to a land, which was to be his inheritance. A few chapters later Abraham reminds God that he has no heirs and so all the talk of inheritance is quite pointless. He is almost a hundred years old at that point and his wife, Sarah, is ninety. What possibility was there that they would have children? Who has heard of a ninety-year old woman bearing children? There was no hope of her ever becoming a natural mother. And yet, the bible tells us that this barren old woman did bear a son.

When we encounter Isaac we see that he gets married to Rebecca. They love each other a lot. But we read that Rebecca was without children. But we also read that Isaac prayed for children and God responded by giving them twins—Esau and Jacob. Once again we have an occasion when barrenness was overcome with life by the direct intervention of God.

Jacob, deceived into marrying the sister of the woman he loved, responds by hating Leah and loving Rachel. But we read that Leah bore many children while Rachel was barren. But once again we read that barrenness was overcome. We have three generations of barrenness overcome by direct acts of God.

The phrase “the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob” is a way of alluding to these stories in Genesis in which we read of God’s power to overcome barrenness. And given that barrenness was the supreme symbol of death for the Jewish people, the phrase is a statement of faith that God has power even over death. So when Peter uses the phrase, he is being a very good orator. To a Jewish crowd that was astonished by the fact that the lame man was healed, Peter alludes to these stories in Genesis as if to ask, “How can you, who are Jews and the heirs of stories that demonstrate God’s power over the forces of death, how can you be surprised by the fact that this man has been healed? Is it not only to be expected that this God who could and did reverse barrenness, not only can but does heal?”

With these words said, Peter draws the attention of the listeners to Jesus. He calls Jesus God’s servant, the holy and righteous one, and the author of life. In the context of healing, the third term is the one that is relevant. Jesus is the author of life—that is not only the one who has authority over life but also the one by and in whom our lives are scripted. In other words, he has authority over our lives.

Then why in the world do we still suffer? Does God still heal today or has that stopped?

Peter says, “The faith that is through Jesus has given [the lame man] this perfect health in the presence of all of you.” In the Gospels, Jesus heals because he is empowered by God’s Spirit. And it is the same Spirit that is poured out on the church. So unless we have a clear indication from God that miracles have ceased, we should assume that the Spirit still heals. And frankly, the bible contains no indication that miracles would stop at any point. 

So does that mean that, as long as we have faith, God will heal us? Isn’t that what Peter says?

In 1989, while playing soccer, I was kicked in my left knee. And to this day my left knee remains injured. I have often prayed for healing. And some of these times, I had utmost confidence that God would heal me. Yet there are still days when my knee goes out of whack and my mobility is severely constrained.

Contrast my situation with this story: After having believed that God still healed, a friend of mine came under the influence of a philosophy professor and disbelieved. Then one day, when he was at a youth retreat, one of the adult supervisors had a heart attack while swimming. They pulled him out of the water and realized that he was not breathing and had no pulse. While the dying man’s son went off by himself to prepare for the inevitability of his father’s death, the other supervisors called 911. While waiting for the paramedics, my friend found himself with the dying man, surrounded by stunned and helpless teenagers. The helplessness of being there with boys and girls as a man lay dying suddenly brought up his old habits. He placed his hand on the man’s chest and said, “In the name of Jesus breathe!”

When the paramedics got there, they found the man sitting up and breathing. They took him to the emergency room and told the people concerned that one of the valves in the man’s heart had flipped from one side to the other. When they asked the doctors how the problem had been fixed, they said that they had no idea since fixing such a problem required physically pushing the valve back.

So, while I remain unhealed, this man was healed. And frankly, he was in no position to express faith in Jesus! What then do we make of Peter’s words? What is it that led to healing in the case of the lame man and the man in my friend’s story? And what is it that prevents my healing?

We long for an answer to these questions. All of us either ourselves suffer physically or know someone who does. And we long for healing. We crave wholeness. And if only, if only, we had a trusted way of assuring such healing! But thankfully we don’t.

Thankfully because if we did have a surefire approach the temptation to reduce our relationship with God to a formula would be too great for most of us to resist. Thankfully because we have now no option but to plead with God as people who do not deserve his touch. Thankfully because when God refuses to answer we can live up to the true meaning of Israel—one who struggles with God. Thankfully because we cannot help but admit that healing depends on God’s initiative and not on ours.

And he is still the God who in the past overcame barrenness. He is still the God who in the past raised Jesus from the dead. He is still the God who healed the lame man. He is still the God who healed the man at the retreat.

And with that confidence, with that assurance, with that boldness I ask those of you who feel led for healing to come forward. Let us in this way obey God rather than humans, obey the author of live rather than the dictates of a culture of death. As God created each of us uniquely, so also we believe he has a unique way of dealing with each of us. I am here ready for the Holy Spirit’s prompting regarding how to respond in each of your situations. And as people come forward, I request the rest of you to pray for them and for me.