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About Christopher J Wiles

Hey there. My name's Chris. I'm a teaching pastor at Tri-State Fellowship, and a research writer for Docent Research Group. Thanks for stopping by; be sure to stay connected by subscribing to blog updates and more.

The True Temple (John 2:13-25)

What’s the value of a “temple?”  No doubt even the word “temple” conjures up images from an Indiana Jones film.  Ancient ruins.  Stone colonnades.  But for nearly every major religion, the temple serves as the focal point to their faith.  And what’s all the more interesting is that the temple has a similar function in every religion.  What is a temple?  The temple is where heaven and earth are thought to intersect.  Think of it as a cosmic crossroads, where the gods come down to interact with man.  The Jewish Temple was no different.  The Temple was built as a means for Israel to experience the presence of God.

Now I know what you must be thinking.  What is the value of a “temple” in today’s world?  Surely the concept itself is leftover from a primitive, superstitious past.  Without science to explain the world, our ancestors tried to explain their world in religious terms.  We’re past that.  Our faith doesn’t rest in the temple, but the laboratory.  We don’t need a religious system.  We need a social welfare program.

There’s just one flaw in that thinking: it never happened.  As technology increased, as science progressed, it didn’t eliminate religious belief.  Instead, religion continues to flourish worldwide.  In 1994, an article in Newsweek magazine highlighted the strange relationship between faith and science:

“A funny thing has happened on the way to science’s [replacement] of faith in the last years of the millennium.  Among researchers as well as laypeople, discoveries in physics, biology, and astronomy are inspiring a sense of cosmic piety, of serene holism and even a moral code.” (Sharon Begley, “Science of the Sacred,” Newsweek, 28 Nov. 1994, 56)

This tells us that we don’t turn to the supernatural as a way of filling in the gaps in our understanding.  Spirituality is deeper than that.  We long for connection to God not merely for cognitive enrichment, but to infuse the whole of life with meaning, purpose, and significance.  It’s no wonder that so many in today’s world find themselves searching for a spiritual experience.  Even without temples made of brick and stone, people long for a way to experience God’s presence here on earth.

We see this timeless principle at work in Jesus’ day.  If you were a devoted Jew, the Temple was the centerpiece of your entire religious life.  But this wasn’t just the Jewish temple anymore.  In the ancient world, there was no “separation of church and state.”  This was Herod’s temple.  It was King Herod who—in 19 B.C.—ordered that the temple be rebuilt.  Peace was only maintained by Herod’s agreement to remodel over time rather than tear down and start from scratch.  Jewish men were trained in architecture so that outsiders would not defile the bricks with their hands.  The end result was something of a love-hate relationship with the temple: the Jews still loved and revered its purpose, but resentment lay beneath the surface like a low-grade fever.  Maybe you know the feeling; you long for the spiritual connection that church promises, yet resent the empty hypocrisy that church delivers.  It was into this very world that Jesus now strode.

John 2:13-25   The Passover of the Jews was at hand, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem.  14 In the temple he found those who were selling oxen and sheep and pigeons, and the money-changers sitting there.  15 And making a whip of cords, he drove them all out of the temple, with the sheep and oxen. And he poured out the coins of the money-changers and overturned their tables.  16 And he told those who sold the pigeons, “Take these things away; do not make my Father’s house a house of trade.”  17 His disciples remembered that it was written, “Zeal for your house will consume me.”

The time was Passover—the first of three that John records.  We’re at the beginning of Jesus’ three year ministry.  The city would have been crowded with worshippers, some of whom traveled from great distances to worship at the Temple.  Rather than drag a sacrificial animal along on the journey, these Jews often purchased their sacrifice from the salesmen in the courtyard of the Temple.  It was there that Jesus causes a riot.

Usually we assume that Jesus is simply angry.  But why?  God commanded sacrifice.  Were they charging unfair prices?  Were these sacrifices unacceptable?  The answer is actually found in the pages of Zechariah, one of the last books of the Old Testament.  Zechariah says that when the Messiah comes, “there shall no longer be a trader in the house of the Lord” (Zechariah 14:21).  Are you beginning to see the significance?  When the Messiah comes, the traders are gone.  So if Jesus chases the traders away, it is a powerful and singular message: the Messiah is here.  It’s doubtful that the religious leaders would have missed this not-so-subtle point.

18 So the Jews said to him, “What sign do you show us for doing these things?”  19 Jesus answered them, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.”  20 The Jews then said, “It has taken forty-six years to build this temple, and will you raise it up in three days?”

For leaders whose allegiances were divided between Jewish custom and Roman authority, Jesus’ actions were an act of treason.  When they ask for a “sign,” what they’re really saying is: “You better be able to back this up.”

Jesus delivers a cryptic promise about the temple.  Destroyed? Rebuilt?  Three days?  The leaders are incredulous—it had taken 46 years to build just that small section of the temple; who could be so arrogant as to suggest such supremacy?

Even Jesus’ closest followers must have been speechless.  It wouldn’t be until much later that they would realize the full weight of this experience:

21 But he was speaking about the temple of his body.  22 When therefore he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this, and they believed the Scripture and the word that Jesus had spoken.

Jesus was the true Temple.  Jesus was the place—nay, person—where Heaven and earth intersected.  You want to experience God’s presence?  Look to the Temple.  But no—it’s no longer a temple of mortar and stone.  It’s a Temple made of flesh and blood and sinew.  It’s the body of Christ.  This is why Paul would tell a divided Church that Jesus is the true cornerstone of a true temple, and in Christ, we “also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit” (Ephesians 2:22).

This changes everything.  Jesus didn’t come to abolish religion; He came to transform it.  He didn’t come to remove religion; He came to redeem it.  What’s the value of a “temple?”  It’s the same as it has always been.  We are connected—to God, to each other—and because of this deep and vital connection we gather to celebrate and to express our gratitude through worship.  “Church” can be a frustrating place.  But Jesus shows us that being part of a church has less to do with being part of an institution, and more to do with being part of a body.  Therefore, we do more than merely tolerate one another; we need one another, as an arm needs a hand.

The final verses reveal that Jesus’ presence hardly went unnoticed:

23Now when he was in Jerusalem at the Passover Feast, many believed in his name when they saw the signs that he was doing.  24 But Jesus on his part did not entrust himself to them, because he knew all people  25 and needed no one to bear witness about man, for he himself knew what was in man.

These verses also serve as an important transition.  Jesus is about to meet some unusual characters.  Some of them aren’t the type you’d expect to find in a “temple.”  Others possess more knowledge than understanding.  And all of them, each in their own way, look like us.

“Everybody Hurts” (1 Peter 3:8-18)

Live long enough, you’ll bleed.  Perhaps the saddest thing about our pursuit of comfort is the fact that we never actually catch it.  Life is full of suffering; no one gets out of here alive.

C.S. Lewis—the brilliant mind behind the Narnia series—once wrote that “crises reveal character.”  Sometimes suffering says more about our hearts than it does our circumstances.  Very often suffering reveals our idols—reveals where we look for comfort and security.  When our idols are threatened, we become bitter, angry, resentful.

Suffering also says a lot about our religious commitments.  If I am a deeply religious person, my tendency is to make an idol out of my religious performance.  I may be a pillar in my community, a well-respected member of my Church.  But when suffering comes, I don’t know how to handle it.  Wasn’t I good enough?  Is God angry with me?  I may become bitter, guilty, and depressed as I struggle to understand what’s happening.  I may search for someone else to blame—casting myself as an innocent victim of wicked circumstances.  If only the government would come through for us…then I wouldn’t be in this mess.

If I’m a very non-religious person, I may view myself as basically a good person.  So when suffering comes, I don’t know how to react.  I may become bitter toward God for allowing bad things to happen to good people.

Suffering is one of our oldest questions.  The Biblical character Job wrote a whole book about suffering before most of the Bible was even written.  But when we look at the reality of the fallen world we live in, we realize that there’s nothing about suffering that should surprise us.  In fact, the Bible promises that those who follow after God will often reap hostility from others.  This is why Peter would encourage the early Christians to persevere despite their persecution.

1 Peter 3:8-18

Finally, all of you, be like-minded, be sympathetic, love one another, be compassionate and humble.Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult. On the contrary, repay evil with blessing, because to this you were called so that you may inherit a blessing. 10 For, “Whoever would love life and see good days must keep their tongue from evil and their lips from deceitful speech. 11 They must turn from evil and do good; they must seek peace and pursue it. 12 For the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous and his ears are attentive to their prayer, but the face of the Lord is against those who do evil.”

13 Who is going to harm you if you are eager to do good? 14 But even if you should suffer for what is right, you are blessed. “Do not fear their threats; do not be frightened.” 15 But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect, 16 keeping a clear conscience, so that those who speak maliciously against your good behavior in Christ may be ashamed of their slander. 17 For it is better, if it is God’s will, to suffer for doing good than for doing evil. 18 For Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, to bring you to God. He was put to death in the body but made alive in the Spirit. 19 After being made alive,he went and made proclamation to the imprisoned spirits— 20 to those who were disobedient long ago when God waited patiently in the days of Noah while the ark was being built. In it only a few people, eight in all, were saved through water, 21 and this water symbolizes baptism that now saves you also—not the removal of dirt from the body but the pledge of a clear conscience toward God. It saves you by the resurrection of Jesus Christ, 22 who has gone into heaven and is at God’s right hand—with angels, authorities and powers in submission to him.

The message of the gospel is radical.  We shouldn’t be surprised when the righteous suffer—we should expect it.  Jesus lived, suffered, and died despite His sinless obedience to God.  Why would we expect anything different for ourselves?  We therefore encounter suffering not with clenched fists, but with soft tears.

In the middle of this section we find the key verse: “Always be prepared to give an answer for the hope that you have” (1 Pe 3:15).  Why would a message about suffering suddenly turn to the need for evangelism?  Because if crises reveal where we place our hope and trust, then crises also provide opportunities to point others to that same hope.  “Everybody Hurts,” writes the rock band R.E.M.  “When you’ve had too much of this life, hold on.”  Suffering forces us to evaluate what it is we hold onto.  Peter is offering the Church something to hold onto: the gospel.

This is why the rest of the section is Peter’s way of unpacking this message.  Do you hear what Peter is saying in verses 18-19?  He’s emphasizing the death and the resurrection of Jesus, the cross and the empty grave.  Chances are, we don’t always have a good answer to the questions that arise during times of suffering.  But the gospel tells us what the answers can’t be.  The cross tells us that the answer can’t be that God’s not loving, because He cared enough to send His Son.  The empty grave tells us that the answer can’t be that God’s not powerful, because He raised His Son from the dead.  Suddenly the gospel shifts from merely “religious” knowledge to personal conviction.  If this world is all there is, then suffering robs our world of meaning.  With eternity in view, suddenly we find ourselves waiting for God to make all things new.

So as we head into the world, we do so with the expectation that we’ll bleed—some of us more than others.  But we enter the world with the confidence in a God of love and a God of power. It is His message, His gospel that we carry into a hurting and dying world, offering them the simple message: hold on.  Hold on.  Hold on.

“That’s Just Your Interpretation” (Luke 9:18-26)

CoexistChances are, you’ve seen this bumper sticker before.  The word is “coexist,” spelled with the various symbols that compose our spiritual landscape.  On the surface, its message is admirable: we shouldn’t let our differences lead to violence or hostility.  But I suspect there’s another, underlying message: that we shouldn’t let our differences matter at all.  I mean really—aren’t all religions basically the same?  Who could be so arrogant to suggest that their view of God is the only correct one?

The word for this is pluralism.  Leslie Newbigin, author and former missionary to India, says that pluralism comes in two flavors.  “Descriptive pluralism” means that multiple religions can exist peacefully in the same society—a freedom that even our own Constitution protects.  But “prescriptive pluralism” says that all religions are equally valid and therefore must be embraced by everyone.  You know: coexist.

The irony is that this simply won’t work.  If you believe that all religions are equally valid and that they should coexist, think about what you’re really saying: “My approach to religion is superior to your approach to religion.”  So even if you try to accommodate every view, you will always be at odds with those who don’t embrace your way of thinking.

Perhaps you’ve heard it this way: a group of blind men encounter an elephant.  One of them feels its trunk and says, “It must be like a snake.”  Another touches its leg and says, “It must be like a tree.”  A third holds its tail and says, “It must be like a rope.”  The moral?  All religions can only describe a portion of the truth—it would be arrogant to claim that you’re right.  I just have one question: What’s an elephant?  Leslie Newbigin observes that the story is always told from the perspective of someone who sees the whole elephant.  Meaning, the person telling the story is actually aware of the truth and looks down on those who only see parts of it.

Jesus’ earliest followers lived in a world of many different cultures—primarily seen in the collision of the Romans and the Jews.  There were also many different perspectives on just who exactly Jesus was.  In Luke 9, we find Jesus discussing this confusion with His followers.

Luke 9:18-26

Peter Declares That Jesus Is the Messiah

18 Once when Jesus was praying in private and his disciples were with him, he asked them, “Who do the crowds say I am?”

19 They replied, “Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, that one of the prophets of long ago has come back to life.”

20 “But what about you?” he asked. “Who do you say I am?”

Peter answered, “God’s Messiah.”

The parallel accounts in Matthew and Luke tell us that this conversation took place in a region known as Caeserea Philippi.  At first glance, the region would have looked like an ideal vacation spot.  But behind the lush trees and waterfalls was a series of small caves where people worshipped various Roman gods—most notably one named “Pan,” the god of fear.  So it was in a pluralistic setting that Peter declares the uniqueness of Jesus Christ.

Then the conversation takes a surprising turn.  In many ways, this was the turning point for Jesus’ ministry:

21 Jesus strictly warned them not to tell this to anyone. 22 And he said, “The Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests and the teachers of the law, and he must be killed and on the third day be raised to life.”

Have you ever wondered what makes Christianity so unique among other religions?  There are actually many reasons, but what I find most fascinating is that Christianity is the only religion that can be proven wrong.  Think about it: nearly every major religion is built on the founder’s subjective experience.  Muhammad had a vision from God.  Buddha experienced personal enlightenment.  An angel appeared to Joseph Smith.  Experience can be neither proven nor disproven.  If I told you that God appeared to me in a dream, you’d have no way of knowing if I was lying, delusional, or the real thing.

What if instead I told you that my brother died and then came back to life?  That changes everything.  That’s a claim that can be proven wrong.  All the evidence you’d need to silence me would lie at the bottom of the grave.  If you found my brother’s body, it’s all over.  The early Church claimed that Jesus rose from the dead, and anchored itself not in subjective experience but objective history.  Christianity’s most crucial claim was also its most fragile.  All that Rome needed to do to silence the early Christians was to show them Jesus’ body.  The astonishing thing is that no one ever did.

What does that mean for us?

23 Then he said to them all: “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me. 24 For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will save it. 25 What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, and yet lose or forfeit their very self? 26 Whoever is ashamed of me and my words, the Son of Man will be ashamed of them when he comes in his glory and in the glory of the Father and of the holy angels.

The gospel promises that a crown of thorns will always precede a crown of glory.  We live with the awareness of suffering as well as the certainty of consolation.  Religious traditions tell us that our purpose is found in self-improvement and self-righteousness.  Only Jesus tells us that our purpose is found in self-sacrifice.  Live for self, Jesus says, and you’ll only be ashamed of life’s truest purpose.  Live for God, and you’ll experience life like never before.  Our world is one of both diversity and hostility.  Now, more than ever, we need men and women who carry their cross with both confidence and courage. 

 

 

What’s Man For? (Matthew 5:1-16)

What’s man for?  Wait; let’s untangle that question.  See, my nephew’s reached the age of perpetual questions.  “What’s that?” he’ll ask, pointing to the fire truck for the thousandth time.  I don’t know much about child development, but there seems to be an age where questions become our primary way of engaging the world.  I’ve noticed that as kids get older, their questions even shift from simply “What’s that?” to “What’s that for?”  So when we ask “What’s man for?” we’re not asking what humankind is “for” as in, “in favor of.”  Instead we mean, “Why does man exist?  For what purpose?”

On the surface, it’s not a hard question.  “What’s a car for?”  Well, it’s for transportation.  “What’s a school for?”  That one’s for education.  “What’s a phone for?”  It’s for communication, interaction, and something called “Candy Crush.”  But “What’s man for?”  Well, that one gets a little trickier.

Social scientists tell us that there was a day when man was measured by his contributions to the greater good—was he/she a good teacher?  A good doctor?  Did they improve the lives of others?  But in today’s world, we measure ourselves by personal fulfillment.  Am I happy?  Am I achieving my dreams?  If the question was once: “How can we benefit?” the question today is: “How can I benefit?”

For God’s people, the greatest tragedy is not that we fail to attain happiness, but that we think that happiness is something that God owes us.  God’s Word delivers a vastly different set of values, and on a hillside in Galilee, God Himself sat down to teach His closest followers what “the good life” was really all about.

Matthew 5:1-16

5:1  Now when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to him, and he began to teach them.

He said:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
10 Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

11 “Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. 12 Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

For Jesus, the “good life” wasn’t merely about some momentary happiness.  It was about being “blessed,” to enjoy the life that God had to offer.  And if you look at the list, God’s values seem radically different from those we usually think.  God’s Word offers us no promise of cheap, immediate fulfillment, but it offers spectacular promises of lasting joy.  It’s not as if God’s trying to get us to look at things upside down.  No; God’s trying to get us to realize that the world’s already upside down.  He’s just helping us see rightside-up again.

What does this have to do with bringing the gospel to our culture?  Plenty.  If you remember, the word “culture” denotes everything we use—art, music, film, politics, technology—to answer the question: “What’s it all mean?”  This in turn helps us understand our earlier question: “What’s man for?”  That’s a hard question to answer if you don’t believe in absolutes.

See, if the meaning of life is up to me to decide, then I can have no purpose other than my own private satisfaction.  But what if there was more?  What if life could have a definite meaning?  Suddenly my purpose could be a lot more clear.

If you have a background in church, you may have grown up with a small book called the Westminster Catechism—kind of a religious question-and-answer book.  The book opens by asking: “What is the chief end of man?”  The answer: “To glorify God and enjoy Him forever.”

There’s our answer.  What is man for?  We exist to show the world the glory of God.  Of course, that still sounds a little church-y.  What does the word “glory” mean?   The concept of glory comes from an ancient word that literally meant “weighty” or “massive.”  Even today, we call this a “heavy” subject.  So to “glorify” God means that we show the world just how significant He is in every facet of our lives.  And how do we do that?  By being people who mourn, who make peace, who hunger and thirst after righteousness—people who are not satisfied by cheap, material blessing, but find their greatest joy in the values of God’s kingdom.

That changes everything.  Suddenly the Church has something vital to offer to the world.  This is why Jesus goes on to tell His people:

13 “You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.

14 “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. 15 Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. 16 In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.

Salt and light.  This is what the Church is called to be.  I love how Christian writer Mike Metzger summarizes this concept:

“Being salt and light demands two things: we practice purity in the midst of a fallen world and yet we live in proximity to this fallen world. If you don’t hold both truths in tension, you invariably become useless and separated from the world God loves. For example, if you only practice purity apart from proximity to culture, you inevitably become pietistic, separatistic and conceited. If you live in close proximity to the culture without also living in a holy manner, you become indistinguishable from fallen culture and useless in God’s kingdom.” (Mike Metzger, quoted in unChristian by David Kinnaman and Gabe Lyons)

Purity and proximity.  We need both.  Some of the greatest failures of the Church have happened when we emphasize one over the other:

  • Creating subculture (all purity, no proximity): The last century has seen the dramatic rise in Christian “alternatives” to secular culture: education, music, books, etc.  The philosophy, of course, is that these alternatives preserve Christian morals without the corrupting influence of secular culture.  The problem is this: Jesus said “Follow me and I will make you fishers of people” (Matthew 4:19). If we are not being “fishers” by reaching non-Christians, can we truly be “followers?”
  • Accommodating to the culture (all proximity, no purity): The alternative, of course, is to blend in with the culture to such a degree that no one sees a true difference in the life of a Christian.  In the absence of purity, the Christian living in proximity to the world will embrace wealth, status, sex, and a whole host of other things as his greatest treasure.
  • Creating a missional counter-culture (both salt and light): The gospel teaches us to be “in the world but not of the world.”  To be “on mission” means to practice both purity and proximity in your everyday life.  Mission, therefore, is not a matter of program, but a lifestyle that God’s people are called to embody.

What’s man for?  This.  He’s for this.  God’s people exist to form a vibrant, soul-nourishing, culture-rattling, missional community that seeks to exalt the name of Jesus in every facet of our lives and in every fiber of our being.  If you and I are to find lasting joy, we have only to look to the city on the hill.

Life in the Spiritual Marketplace (Acts 17:16-34)

I have good news and bad news.  The bad news is that we’re facing the end of Christian America.  The good news is that we’re facing the end of Christian America.  Let me explain.  There was an era—not long in the past—when American culture was shaped by the kinds of conservative values we find in the pages of God’s Word.  But we currently inhabit a “post-Christian” world, one that no longer embraces Biblical teachings as the source of values.

Ask an average evangelical Christian, and they’ll tell you that America is heading for profound spiritual ruin.  Ask someone outside the church, and they’ll lament that Christians are trying to run the country.   How can both of those statements be true?  The answer is simple: people in today’s world are more “spiritual” than ever before; they’re just not wild about finding their answers within the confines of “traditional” religion.  Instead, spiritual pursuits are a matter of individual preference—what a CNN article once referred to as “Burger King Spirituality,” because you can truly “have it your way.”

Such was Paul’s experience in the city of Athens.  While waiting for his missionary companions, he found himself surrounded by the opulence of this great city, renowned the world over for its intellectual climate and spiritual leanings.  Later writers would remark that you couldn’t look anywhere without your eyes resting on an idol.

Here’s what happened in the city of Athens:

Acts 17:16-34

16 While Paul was waiting for them in Athens, he was greatly distressed to see that the city was full of idols. 17 So he reasoned in the synagogue with both Jews and God-fearing Greeks, as well as in the marketplace day by day with those who happened to be there. 18 A group of Epicurean and Stoic philosophers began to debate with him. Some of them asked, “What is this babbler trying to say?” Others remarked, “He seems to be advocating foreign gods.” They said this because Paul was preaching the good news about Jesus and the resurrection. 19 Then they took him and brought him to a meeting of the Areopagus, where they said to him, “May we know what this new teaching is that you are presenting? 20 You are bringing some strange ideas to our ears, and we would like to know what they mean.” 21 (All the Athenians and the foreigners who lived there spent their time doing nothing but talking about and listening to the latest ideas.)

Don’t you love that last verse?  Our nation finds no greater value than that of diversity.  Paul initially finds himself in the agora, or the city’s “marketplace.”  It was the common area where people gathered to discuss ideas.  But the interesting thing is that in today’s world, I’m not sure that such a place exists.  Perhaps for some it’s the coffee shop.  Maybe it’s a dinner table.  But in today’s post-everything world, I suspect the internet (social media, blogs, etc.) represents the most sprawling example of a marketplace, and the place where ideas are most regularly exchanged.

Chances are we meet the same kinds of people that Paul did.  Paul met three groups of people.  The Jews (and God-fearing Gentiles) may not have believed in Jesus, but at least they shared a common belief in the Bible.  They might be analogous to the traditional religious community of our day.  The Epicureans were another story.  They were the first to believe that the world was composed of “atoms,” and therefore when man dies he simply ceases to exist (according to Epicurus, even the gods would die and be no more).  They’re probably similar to the atheists of our day, who believe man comes from nothing and proceeds toward nothing.  Finally, the Stoics.  They believed the universe was governed by a universal “world-soul” which permeates everything in existence.  If this sounds like “the force” in Star Wars, you’re not far off.  It’s the same kind of thinking found in many Eastern religions (and their New Age counterparts).

Spiritual Types in Athens

When you look at these views together, you begin to realize that Paul stands in the center of all these swirling trends—as do we.  Paul is asked to speak to the Aereopagus, which was something of a council of intellectuals who would render their verdict on Paul’s new beliefs:

22 Paul then stood up in the meeting of the Areopagus and said: “People of Athens! I see that in every way you are very religious. 23 For as I walked around and looked carefully at your objects of worship, I even found an altar with this inscription: to an unknown god. So you are ignorant of the very thing you worship—and this is what I am going to proclaim to you.

24 “The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples built by human hands. 25 And he is not served by human hands, as if he needed anything. Rather, he himself gives everyone life and breath and everything else. 26 From one man he made all the nations, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he marked out their appointed times in history and the boundaries of their lands. 27 God did this so that they would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from any one of us. 28 ‘For in him we live and move and have our being.’ As some of your own poets have said, ‘We are his offspring.’

Yes, the end of Christian America is indeed good news.  Why?  Because for a long time, Christians have sought comfort and security through isolation.  The last century saw the rise of Christian schools and universities, radio stations, coffee shops—heck, even Christian breath-mints.  So much for being “salt and light” to our world.  We’ve been more likely to peek behind our protective walls to lob a few grenades as part of an ongoing “culture war.”

But Paul’s no cultural warrior.  He’s more interested in dialogue than debate.  His conversation is sprinkled with specific phrases to grab his audience’s attention.  Most significantly, he knew their song lyrics.  He quotes their own poets back to them, because he wisely understands that quoting the Bible isn’t going to do much good in their current spiritual state.  Dietrich Bonhoeffer, writing from a prison cell in Nazi Germany, said that we need to learn to “speak in a secular way about God.”  What did he mean by that?  Well, it means that when the Bible is no longer the starting point for a spiritual conversation, we need to find a new starting point.  And so Paul finds this point of contact in culture itself.

But make no mistake; just because the Bible wasn’t a suitable starting point doesn’t mean that his speech was anything less than Biblical.  And the gospel, properly spoken, will generate strong reaction.  Here’s what happened in Athens:

29 “Therefore since we are God’s offspring, we should not think that the divine being is like gold or silver or stone—an image made by human design and skill. 30 In the past God overlooked such ignorance, but now he commands all people everywhere to repent. 31 For he has set a day when he will judge the world with justice by the man he has appointed. He has given proof of this to everyone by raising him from the dead.”

32 When they heard about the resurrection of the dead, some of them sneered, but others said, “We want to hear you again on this subject.” 33 At that, Paul left the Council. 34 Some of the people became followers of Paul and believed. Among them was Dionysius, a member of the Areopagus, also a woman named Damaris, and a number of others.

Notice that for this community, it was the resurrection of the dead that proved to be a sticky point.  I tend to think that the gospel will challenge every culture differently.  In fact, I’d even suggest that in Western culture, we tend to struggle most with God directing human events.  Why can’t I control my own destiny?  Who cares what I do in private?  Who cares who I sleep with?  Like Paul, we can expect a similar diversity of reactions.  Some believed, some rejected—others wanted the conversation to continue.  And that’s perhaps what we also have to hope for.

I’m told that the Japanese word for “crisis” is the same as the word for “opportunity.”  I don’t know much about Japanese grammar, but it’s a nice concept.  The demise of Christian America is a crisis worthy of lament.  But it’s also an opportunity waiting to be seized.  Time to make your choice.

Putting on Skin (John 1:1-18)

In his book Dangerous Wonder, Mike Yacconelli relates a story about a little girl meeting her baby brother for the first time.  “Baby, what does God sound like?”  she asked.  “Because I’m starting to forget.”

What do you think of when you hear the word “God?”  If you ask five different people, you’ll probably hear six different answers.  Maybe the question has even been a source of frustration—if God would just reveal Himself, then maybe it wouldn’t be so difficult to believe.

But that’s the radical nature of the gospel.  See, the gospel doesn’t just tell us that God exists.  No, the gospel tells us that God speaks.  Throughout the scriptures, God communicates through His Word.  When He spoke through His various prophets, it was because “the Word of the Lord came to Isaiah” and to Jeremiah and so on.  And, in the fullness of time, the Word of the Lord literally became flesh.  Listen to John’s description in John 1:

John 1:1-18

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

There was a man sent from God whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify concerning that light, so that through him all might believe. He himself was not the light; he came only as a witness to the light.

The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world. 10 He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. 11 He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. 12 Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God— 13 children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God.

14 The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.

15 (John testified concerning him. He cried out, saying, “This is the one I spoke about when I said, ‘He who comes after me has surpassed me because he was before me.’”) 16 Out of his fullness we have all received grace in place of grace already given. 17 For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. 18 No one has ever seen God, but the one and only Son, who is himself God and is in closest relationship with the Father, has made him known.

John is describing what is known as the “incarnation.”  The eternal God of the universe took on human form in the person of Jesus.

But why?  There are actually many reasons—the primary one being God satisfying His own need for a man to offer a perfect sacrifice for sin.  But there’s another reason as well.  In coming to earth in the humble flesh of Jesus, God shows a willingness to identify with the plight of mankind.  In Harper Lee’s novel To Kill a Mockingbird, the devoted father Atticus Finch reminds his daughter Scout that we shouldn’t be too quick to judge others.  “You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view” he tells her. “You’ve got to put on his skin, and walk around in it.”

And that’s what God did.  He put on our skin, and walked around in it, so that we have a “high priest” who can “sympathize with our weaknesses…yet without sin” (Hebrews 4:15).  If the God of the universe can do this, how much more can we try and see things through the eyes of spiritual outsiders.  If we are called to relate the gospel to our culture, we need to look no further than the humble example of Jesus.  To love our world is to see things from their point of view—in the hopes and confidence of the power of the gospel to speak through us to produce radical and lasting change.

In the End, the Beginning (Acts 28:1-32)

Every story has an ending.  But the great stories have end with a new beginning.  In the final chapter of  C.S. Lewis’ Narnia series, the characters are invited “further up, further in” as the land of Narnia is restored.

“[T]he things that began to happen after that were so great and beautiful that I cannot write them. And for us this the end of all the stories, and we can most truly say that they all lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.” (C.S. Lewis, The Last Battle)

The same is true of God’s story, in which we are invited to participate.  So as we see the book of Acts draw to a close, we are reminded that this is not the end, but a new beginning.  The church continued long after Paul, and life with God will continue into eternity.

TIME IN MALTA

Acts 28:1-31  Once safely on shore, we found out that the island was called Malta.  2 The islanders showed us unusual kindness. They built a fire and welcomed us all because it was raining and cold.  3 Paul gathered a pile of brushwood and, as he put it on the fire, a viper, driven out by the heat, fastened itself on his hand.  4 When the islanders saw the snake hanging from his hand, they said to each other, “This man must be a murderer; for though he escaped from the sea, Justice has not allowed him to live.”  5 But Paul shook the snake off into the fire and suffered no ill effects.  6 The people expected him to swell up or suddenly fall dead, but after waiting a long time and seeing nothing unusual happen to him, they changed their minds and said he was a god.

Some cultures are ruled by superstition.  In the ancient world, men who survived shipwrecks were thought to be righteous.  But men who were bitten by snakes were thought to be unrighteous.  Paul experienced both, so this was quite a pickle.  When God preserved Paul’s life, they thought he was a god.  There will always be those who see God’s work and attribute it to something else.  Thankfully, we can see that it is God working through Paul, as seen in Paul’s praying for the sick in the next section:

7 There was an estate nearby that belonged to Publius, the chief official of the island. He welcomed us to his home and for three days entertained us hospitably.  8 His father was sick in bed, suffering from fever and dysentery. Paul went in to see him and, after prayer, placed his hands on him and healed him.  9 When this had happened, the rest of the sick on the island came and were cured.  10 They honored us in many ways and when we were ready to sail, they furnished us with the supplies we needed.

FROM MALTA TO ROME

11 After three months we put out to sea in a ship that had wintered in the island. It was an Alexandrian ship with the figurehead of the twin gods Castor and Pollux.  12 We put in at Syracuse and stayed there three days.  13 From there we set sail and arrived at Rhegium. The next day the south wind came up, and on the following day we reached Puteoli.  14 There we found some brothers who invited us to spend a week with them. And so we came to Rome.  15 The brothers there had heard that we were coming, and they traveled as far as the Forum of Appius and the Three Taverns to meet us. At the sight of these men Paul thanked God and was encouraged.  16 When we got to Rome, Paul was allowed to live by himself, with a soldier to guard him.

The next section deals with Paul’s journey to Rome.  When he got there, he was basically put under house arrest.  This wasn’t ideal, of course, but all things considered this wasn’t that bad.  He was allowed to have visitors.  He was allowed to write.  The letter to the Philippians was actually a thank-you letter for sending Epaphroditus to Rome with supplies.  While in prison, Paul wrote the letters we call Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians, and Philemon.

CONFERENCES WITH THE ROMAN JEWS

17 Three days later he called together the leaders of the Jews. When they had assembled, Paul said to them: “My brothers, although I have done nothing against our people or against the customs of our ancestors, I was arrested in Jerusalem and handed over to the Romans.  18 They examined me and wanted to release me, because I was not guilty of any crime deserving death.  19 But when the Jews objected, I was compelled to appeal to Caesar– not that I had any charge to bring against my own people.  20 For this reason I have asked to see you and talk with you. It is because of the hope of Israel that I am bound with this chain.”  21 They replied, “We have not received any letters from Judea concerning you, and none of the brothers who have come from there has reported or said anything bad about you.  22 But we want to hear what your views are, for we know that people everywhere are talking against this sect.”

23 They arranged to meet Paul on a certain day, and came in even larger numbers to the place where he was staying. From morning till evening he explained and declared to them the kingdom of God and tried to convince them about Jesus from the Law of Moses and from the Prophets.  24 Some were convinced by what he said, but others would not believe.  25 They disagreed among themselves and began to leave after Paul had made this final statement: “The Holy Spirit spoke the truth to your forefathers when he said through Isaiah the prophet:  26 “‘Go to this people and say, “You will be ever hearing but never understanding; you will be ever seeing but never perceiving.”  27 For this people’s heart has become calloused; they hardly hear with their ears, and they have closed their eyes. Otherwise they might see with their eyes, hear with their ears, understand with their hearts and turn, and I would heal them.’  28 “Therefore I want you to know that God’s salvation has been sent to the Gentiles, and they will listen!”

Each of the above two paragraphs represents a separate conference Paul had with the Jews.  He explained his reasons for being in Rome—clarifying his innocence—but more importantly, he shared the gospel with them.

WHEN IN ROME

30 For two whole years Paul stayed there in his own rented house and welcomed all who came to see him.  31 Boldly and without hindrance he preached the kingdom of God and taught about the Lord Jesus Christ.

Paul invested two years in the city of Rome.  Luke’s story ends here—confirming that Luke ended his writings of Luke-Acts at roughly 62-63.  Luke doesn’t record the end of Paul’s life, but in roughly 110 AD, a writer named Ignatius recorded what the church had apparently believed: Paul was beheaded by the Roman emperor Nero in 65 AD.

The end of the story?  Not for Paul.  And not for us, either.  While under house arrest in Rome, Paul said that his desire was to “depart and be with Christ, which is better by far” (Philippians 1:23).  Does God’s story move you?  Drive you?  Are you centered in God’s purpose, God’s story?  Does the thought of devoting yourself to God’s mission terrify you?  Thrill you?  Inspire you?  Don’t let what you’ve gained from this series go to waste.  Now, more than ever, we need men and women of conviction and prayer.

Men and women for whom prayer is their first impulse…and never a last resort.

Navigating Culture (Acts 27:1-44)

What is culture?  Ask five people, and be prepared for six different answers.  For some, “culture” is something to be celebrated for its lavish diversity.  For others, “culture” is something to be feared and avoided.   “Culture” is basically the way we answer the question: “What does it all mean?”  Music, art, technology—these are all things we use to figure out what life is supposed to mean.

There was a day when we looked for meaning in the pages of the Bible.  No more.  Now, we live in a world of many competing cultures, many competing stories.  There are many different—often conflicting—ways of explaining what life is supposed to mean.  This is what we mean when we say we live in a “post-Christian” world.  If you look to God and His Word, you risk being labeled out of touch with today’s changing times.

God’s Word tells us to “seek the good of the city” we inhabit (Jeremiah 29:7).  This means that each of us is called to be a missionary to the world around us.  We look to the example of Paul, who continues on his journey to Rome.  We’ll lift some principles from his sea voyage to understand how to relate to today’s post-everything world.

DESIGN, NOT DISASTER

Acts 27:1-44 When it was decided that we would sail for Italy, Paul and some other prisoners were handed over to a centurion named Julius, who belonged to the Imperial Regiment.

First, God’s missionaries see design where others see disaster.  To understand this better, we have to look beyond this chapter and see Paul’s journey as a whole.  He was destined to go to Rome (Acts 21:10-13).  Everything else that came his way was part of God’s plan.  This doesn’t mean that God causes disasters such as hurricanes and shipwrecks.  But it does mean that God is at work in every circumstance working it for His good.

Whether we experience tragedy or merely witness it, it’s tempting to look for someone to blame.  Political opponents.  Corporations.  Maybe even God.  But the question we should be asking is simple: “Does God know about this?”  Yes, that’s sarcasm.  God knows.  The storms of life don’t care about you.  Don’t know you.  God knows you, and God cares about you.

SUPPORT, NOT SOLITUDE

2 We boarded a ship from Adramyttium about to sail for ports along the coast of the province of Asia, and we put out to sea. Aristarchus, a Macedonian from Thessalonica, was with us.  3 The next day we landed at Sidon; and Julius, in kindness to Paul, allowed him to go to his friends so they might provide for his needs.

God’s missionaries seek support where others seek solitude.  Notice the “we” in verse 2?  Luke, the author of Acts, is actually one of Paul’s travel companions.

Too often we can view church community as optional.  If there’s nothing else on our schedule, if our vacation’s over, then we attend church…or at least come twice a month or so.  This makes sense when church is a duty and an obligation.  But for Paul, Christian community was neither of those things.  It was a joy, born from necessity.  When facing persecution, community shifts from being optional to being vital.

4 From there we put out to sea again and passed to the lee of Cyprus because the winds were against us.  5 When we had sailed across the open sea off the coast of Cilicia and Pamphylia, we landed at Myra in Lycia.  6 There the centurion found an Alexandrian ship sailing for Italy and put us on board.  7 We made slow headway for many days and had difficulty arriving off Cnidus. When the wind did not allow us to hold our course, we sailed to the lee of Crete, opposite Salmone.  8 We moved along the coast with difficulty and came to a place called Fair Havens, near the town of Lasea.

9 Much time had been lost, and sailing had already become dangerous because by now it was after the Fast. So Paul warned them,  10 “Men, I can see that our voyage is going to be disastrous and bring great loss to ship and cargo, and to our own lives also.”  11 But the centurion, instead of listening to what Paul said, followed the advice of the pilot and of the owner of the ship.  12 Since the harbor was unsuitable to winter in, the majority decided that we should sail on, hoping to reach Phoenix and winter there. This was a harbor in Crete, facing both southwest and northwest.

Do you understand what’s going on here?  The “Fast” refers to the time surrounding the Jewish holiday of the Day of Atonement, typically celebrated in the Fall.  If you were a good sailor, you knew the phrase mare clausum—literally “the sea is closed.”  Sailing didn’t usually happen between mid-September until February at the earliest.  Paul seems to understand this, and that’s an important point.  Paul’s trust in God’s design didn’t stop him from exercising wisdom along the way.  Sadly, this wisdom was waved aside like the flags on the White Star Line.

13 When a gentle south wind began to blow, they thought they had obtained what they wanted; so they weighed anchor and sailed along the shore of Crete.  14 Before very long, a wind of hurricane force, called the “northeaster,” swept down from the island.  15 The ship was caught by the storm and could not head into the wind; so we gave way to it and were driven along.  16 As we passed to the lee of a small island called Cauda, we were hardly able to make the lifeboat secure.  17 When the men had hoisted it aboard, they passed ropes under the ship itself to hold it together. Fearing that they would run aground on the sandbars of Syrtis, they lowered the sea anchor and let the ship be driven along.  18 We took such a violent battering from the storm that the next day they began to throw the cargo overboard.  19 On the third day, they threw the ship’s tackle overboard with their own hands.  20 When neither sun nor stars appeared for many days and the storm continued raging, we finally gave up all hope of being saved.

The final verse says it all.  Not only were they facing a storm, but they lacked the sun and stars that usually helped them navigate.  Our world is full of those who insist that we “trust our hearts.”  “Look within,” we’re told.  But neither trite slogans nor personal introspection are of any use when you’re lost at sea.

CONFIDENCE, NOT COMFORT

21 After the men had gone a long time without food, Paul stood up before them and said: “Men, you should have taken my advice not to sail from Crete; then you would have spared yourselves this damage and loss.  22 But now I urge you to keep up your courage, because not one of you will be lost; only the ship will be destroyed.  23 Last night an angel of the God whose I am and whom I serve stood beside me  24 and said, ‘Do not be afraid, Paul. You must stand trial before Caesar; and God has graciously given you the lives of all who sail with you.’  25 So keep up your courage, men, for I have faith in God that it will happen just as he told me.  26 Nevertheless, we must run aground on some island.”

God’s missionaries have confidence where others seek only comfort.  Paul had hope when all seemed hopeless.

Comfort is a fragile thing.  It can be taken away in an instant.  Yet if we’re honest, we find our value in the idols of comfort, convenience and control.  Outside the walls of the church this is understandable.  Inside the walls, it becomes toxic.  We judge our spiritual experiences not by what we invest into them—but by what we get out of them.  “I’m not being fed,” we complain.  And so the demand for comfort corrodes our souls and our communities.

27 On the fourteenth night we were still being driven across the Adriatic Sea, when about midnight the sailors sensed they were approaching land.  28 They took soundings and found that the water was a hundred and twenty feet deep. A short time later they took soundings again and found it was ninety feet deep.  29 Fearing that we would be dashed against the rocks, they dropped four anchors from the stern and prayed for daylight.  30 In an attempt to escape from the ship, the sailors let the lifeboat down into the sea, pretending they were going to lower some anchors from the bow.  31 Then Paul said to the centurion and the soldiers, “Unless these men stay with the ship, you cannot be saved.”  32 So the soldiers cut the ropes that held the lifeboat and let it fall away.

COMPASSION, NOT CRITICISM

33 Just before dawn Paul urged them all to eat. “For the last fourteen days,” he said, “you have been in constant suspense and have gone without food– you haven’t eaten anything.  34 Now I urge you to take some food. You need it to survive. Not one of you will lose a single hair from his head.”  35 After he said this, he took some bread and gave thanks to God in front of them all. Then he broke it and began to eat.  36 They were all encouraged and ate some food themselves.  37 Altogether there were 276 of us on board.  38 When they had eaten as much as they wanted, they lightened the ship by throwing the grain into the sea.

God’s missionaries display compassion where others display criticism.  The language here of breaking bread is similar to the language of the Lord’s table (cf. Luke 24:35).  With so many unbelievers present, it’s unlikely that this was a communion service.  But I think we’re meant to see this conversation as representing God’s incredible love for the world.  Paul still confronted the errors that he saw (27:21).  But his love went beyond merely saying “I told you so.”

When something troubles or offends you, what’s your first impulse?  Is it prayer?  Or a rant on Facebook?  When political decisions don’t go our way, when a beloved celebrity does something shocking, we should respond with bended knees and bowed heads—not with clenched fists.

SACRIFICE, NOT SECLUSION

39 When daylight came, they did not recognize the land, but they saw a bay with a sandy beach, where they decided to run the ship aground if they could.  40 Cutting loose the anchors, they left them in the sea and at the same time untied the ropes that held the rudders. Then they hoisted the foresail to the wind and made for the beach.  41 But the ship struck a sandbar and ran aground. The bow stuck fast and would not move, and the stern was broken to pieces by the pounding of the surf.  42 The soldiers planned to kill the prisoners to prevent any of them from swimming away and escaping.  43 But the centurion wanted to spare Paul’s life and kept them from carrying out their plan. He ordered those who could swim to jump overboard first and get to land.  44 The rest were to get there on planks or on pieces of the ship. In this way everyone reached land in safety.

Finally, God’s missionaries pursue sacrifice, not seclusion.  Christians are (in)famous for living in a “bubble.”  We remain “pure” by creating a sub-culture.  Christian music.  Christian books.  Christian coffeehouses.  If we’re careful enough, we might never have to meet a non-Christian.  And apparently it’s working.  The magazine Christianity Today recently reported that an increasing number of non-Christians have never met an actual Christian.  This should shock us.  This should trouble us.  And this should provoke us to the same sacrificial love of Christ.  The cross shows us that sacrifice always leads us further into the world—not away from it.

In the Old Testament, we see another missionary, and another storm at sea.  Like Paul, Jonah was called to reach a group of Gentiles and bring them back into fellowship with God.  But unlike Paul, Jonah refused.  Jonah got on the boat to flee his calling, Paul got on the boat to fulfill his calling.  The message of this contrast is simple: God will always fulfill His purposes.  He will accomplish His mission through us, or He will accomplish His mission in spite of us.

Which one is your prayer?

Outsider Reactions to Insider Faith (Acts 25:23-26:32)

It started as a simple conversation, but dinner that evening came served with a side of awkward.  I was out with some friends during my college years when the conversation landed on the subject of religion.

We’ve probably all been there.  That deer-in-the-headlights moment.  You weren’t looking for a spiritual conversation, but the conversation found you.  Ironic, isn’t it?  Religion, along with politics, is one of those subjects you just don’t bring up casually.  For some, these topics are off-limits entirely.  But there I was.  I don’t remember the exact question that was raised—or even my response to it.  But I do remember the anxiety.  I’ve never wanted to hide my faith.  But in that moment I felt the pressure, the need to “get it right.”  If they didn’t understand, how could I make them understand?

If you’ve been there, you’re hardly the first—or last.  In today’s reading, we look at the way Paul shares his own spiritual story.  We’ve heard his story before—of God’s radical grace and transformation.  But in this passage we get to see it through an outsider’s eyes.  How will the Roman officials respond?

…BY SAVING FACE?

Acts 25:23 – 26:32  The next day Agrippa and Bernice came with great pomp and entered the audience room with the high ranking officers and the leading men of the city. At the command of Festus, Paul was brought in.  24 Festus said: “King Agrippa, and all who are present with us, you see this man! The whole Jewish community has petitioned me about him in Jerusalem and here in Caesarea, shouting that he ought not to live any longer.  25 I found he had done nothing deserving of death, but because he made his appeal to the Emperor I decided to send him to Rome.  26 But I have nothing definite to write to His Majesty about him. Therefore I have brought him before all of you, and especially before you, King Agrippa, so that as a result of this investigation I may have something to write.  27 For I think it is unreasonable to send on a prisoner without specifying the charges against him.”

I love the phrase “great pomp” (as opposed to mediocre pomp?).  King Agrippa had arrived.  This was a big deal.  But a conversation with Festus, the local governor we met in Acts 25, it’s starting to look more and more like a government foul-up.

If you remember, Paul had appealed to Caesar.  If the leaders followed through, Paul would be on his way to Rome.  But Festus seems worried.  What would he write to the Emperor?  Would he look foolish for making such a fuss over an innocent man?  Maybe by escalating it to the attention of King Agrippa, he could “save face” in front of his superiors.

The next lengthy section is a summary of Paul’s spiritual journey.

Acts 26:1 Then Agrippa said to Paul, “You have permission to speak for yourself.” So Paul motioned with his hand and began his defense:

2 “King Agrippa, I consider myself fortunate to stand before you today as I make my defense against all the accusations of the Jews,  3 and especially so because you are well acquainted with all the Jewish customs and controversies. Therefore, I beg you to listen to me patiently.

4 “The Jews all know the way I have lived ever since I was a child, from the beginning of my life in my own country, and also in Jerusalem.  5 They have known me for a long time and can testify, if they are willing, that according to the strictest sect of our religion, I lived as a Pharisee.  6 And now it is because of my hope in what God has promised our fathers that I am on trial today.  7 This is the promise our twelve tribes are hoping to see fulfilled as they earnestly serve God day and night. O king, it is because of this hope that the Jews are accusing me.  8 Why should any of you consider it incredible that God raises the dead?

9 “I too was convinced that I ought to do all that was possible to oppose the name of Jesus of Nazareth.  10 And that is just what I did in Jerusalem. On the authority of the chief priests I put many of the saints in prison, and when they were put to death, I cast my vote against them.  11 Many a time I went from one synagogue to another to have them punished, and I tried to force them to blaspheme. In my obsession against them, I even went to foreign cities to persecute them.

12 “On one of these journeys I was going to Damascus with the authority and commission of the chief priests.  13 About noon, O king, as I was on the road, I saw a light from heaven, brighter than the sun, blazing around me and my companions.  14 We all fell to the ground, and I heard a voice saying to me in Aramaic, ‘Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me? It is hard for you to kick against the goads.’  15 “Then I asked, ‘Who are you, Lord?’ “‘I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting,’ the Lord replied.  16 ‘Now get up and stand on your feet. I have appeared to you to appoint you as a servant and as a witness of what you have seen of me and what I will show you.  17 I will rescue you from your own people and from the Gentiles. I am sending you to them  18 to open their eyes and turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan to God, so that they may receive forgiveness of sins and a place among those who are sanctified by faith in me.’

19 “So then, King Agrippa, I was not disobedient to the vision from heaven.  20 First to those in Damascus, then to those in Jerusalem and in all Judea, and to the Gentiles also, I preached that they should repent and turn to God and prove their repentance by their deeds.  21 That is why the Jews seized me in the temple courts and tried to kill me.  22 But I have had God’s help to this very day, and so I stand here and testify to small and great alike. I am saying nothing beyond what the prophets and Moses said would happen–  23 that the Christ would suffer and, as the first to rise from the dead, would proclaim light to his own people and to the Gentiles.”

…BY THE INSANITY PLEA?

24 At this point Festus interrupted Paul’s defense. “You are out of your mind, Paul!” he shouted. “Your great learning is driving you insane.”  25 “I am not insane, most excellent Festus,” Paul replied. “What I am saying is true and reasonable.  26 The king is familiar with these things, and I can speak freely to him. I am convinced that none of this has escaped his notice, because it was not done in a corner.  27 King Agrippa, do you believe the prophets? I know you do.”

We don’t know much about the faith background of Festus.  Previously he’d seemed to be fairly open.  But a man rising from the dead (26:23)?  This was too much.  So Festus is quick to dismiss Paul by the insanity plea.  The message was too weird to be taken seriously. King Agrippa was familiar with Jewish custom; this was probably not the first he’d heard some of these concepts.

If we’re honest, we speak a very different language from the rest of our world.  We speak in terms of “quiet times” and “devotionals.”  We talk about something that “the Lord laid on my heart.”  We insist we “have a relationship, not a religion.”  What’s wrong with any of that?  Nothing.  But like Festus, there will always be those in our world who think such language is just plain weird.

…BY ONE CONVERSATION?

28 Then Agrippa said to Paul, “Do you think that in such a short time you can persuade me to be a Christian?”  29 Paul replied, “Short time or long– I pray God that not only you but all who are listening to me today may become what I am, except for these chains.”

Paul was expecting more of a reaction from the King.  “Do you believe the prophets?” he pleaded.  “I know you do.”  But the King was unmoved.  We can’t assume that a total conversion can happen by one conversation.  Instead we need to pray the words of Paul—that God would accomplish His purposes regardless of the time that it takes, short or long.

30 The king rose, and with him the governor and Bernice and those sitting with them.  31 They left the room, and while talking with one another, they said, “This man is not doing anything that deserves death or imprisonment.”  32 Agrippa said to Festus, “This man could have been set free if he had not appealed to Caesar.”

Their conclusion?  The man’s crazy, but no criminal.  In fact, the craziest thing of all is that he appealed to Caesar rather than enjoying his freedom.  Paul is arguably the greatest missionary who ever lived.  Yet even he was labeled as crazy.  Why would we expect any different?

The greatest sin of our culture today is to be too dedicated to any one particular thing.  A “religious” person might be tolerated—maybe even admired for being morally upright.  But a person sold out to Christ and His gospel is just…well, weird.  No one wants to be labeled a “fanatic.”  But if I believe the gospel, I can be secure in my own identity in Christ.  Even negative reactions provoke me to bold love rather than cowardice.  Following Christ demands I place others ahead of self and faithfulness ahead of success.  “There is no failure here,” sings a popular musician. “Just when you quit.”

Are you praying for faithfulness in sharing your faith?

The Religion of the Great Perhaps (Acts 25:1-22)

Do you believe in “fate?”  Do you believe that things happen for a reason?  Do you believe there are no accidents?

Your answer to this question might say a lot about your background.  Different cultures define “fate” differently.  If you were raised in east India, for example, your view of “fate” might be linked to things like “karma.”  Your culture would basically tell you to “deal with the cards you’re dealt.”  Here in the west, we tend to think of “fate” as connected to a “higher power.”  “Someone is watching over us,” we might say.  If something good happens, we might say, that it was “meant to be.”  When we experience suffering, we might console ourselves with the sentiment that “everything happens for a reason.”

We don’t need to unpack all that.  We only need to know that the Bible does not present us as creatures merely carried along by impersonal “destiny.”  Instead, we can have confidence that we rest secure in the hands of an infinitely wise and infinitely just God.  If we forget this, we surrender ourselves only to the religion of the great perhaps.  But when we remember that God is in control, even times of confusion and difficulty become powerful testimonies to the magnificence of God.

Why is this so important?  Because in today’s reading we see Paul standing before the authorities.  He has been stripped of any illusion of control.  But while control can be taken away, trust cannot.   We see God at work in three different stages in this section.

POWER STRUGGLE

Acts 25:1-22  Three days after arriving in the province, Festus went up from Caesarea to Jerusalem,  2 where the chief priests and Jewish leaders appeared before him and presented the charges against Paul.  3 They urgently requested Festus, as a favor to them, to have Paul transferred to Jerusalem, for they were preparing an ambush to kill him along the way.  4 Festus answered, “Paul is being held at Caesarea, and I myself am going there soon.  5 Let some of your leaders come with me and press charges against the man there, if he has done anything wrong.”

Portius Festus wasn’t stupid.  He knew that to effectively rule as governor of Syria, he’d need the support of the people.  But he quickly learned that he’d stepped into a mess left by the former administration.  The Jews were starting to realize that to get rid of Paul, they couldn’t wait for Rome.  They had to take matters into their own hands.  But do you see the strange way that God works?  The Jews were in a tug of war with the Roman government.  God used the power struggle to spare Paul’s life.  Nothing happens by accident.  God can use even the worst of life’s circumstances to reveal the best of His grace.

FINDING HIS APPEAL

6 After spending eight or ten days with them, he went down to Caesarea, and the next day he convened the court and ordered that Paul be brought before him.  7 When Paul appeared, the Jews who had come down from Jerusalem stood around him, bringing many serious charges against him, which they could not prove.  8 Then Paul made his defense: “I have done nothing wrong against the law of the Jews or against the temple or against Caesar.”  9 Festus, wishing to do the Jews a favor, said to Paul, “Are you willing to go up to Jerusalem and stand trial before me there on these charges?”  10 Paul answered: “I am now standing before Caesar’s court, where I ought to be tried. I have not done any wrong to the Jews, as you yourself know very well.  11 If, however, I am guilty of doing anything deserving death, I do not refuse to die. But if the charges brought against me by these Jews are not true, no one has the right to hand me over to them. I appeal to Caesar!”  12 After Festus had conferred with his council, he declared: “You have appealed to Caesar. To Caesar you will go!”

Festus, like Felix (Acts 24) is a complex character.  He seems to empathize with Paul.  But he soon realizes why Felix never dealt with the situation.  Release Paul, and he offends the Jewish leadership.  Any disturbance of the peace would not reflect well on his political career.  Paul, as a Roman citizen, had a right to appeal to Caesar.  Festus was probably relieved at having the decision removed from his hands.  Again, God is at work.  The appeal to Caesar would only propel Paul forward to help him reach Rome.

A NEW AUDIENCE

13 A few days later King Agrippa and Bernice arrived at Caesarea to pay their respects to Festus.  14 Since they were spending many days there, Festus discussed Paul’s case with the king. He said: “There is a man here whom Felix left as a prisoner.  15 When I went to Jerusalem, the chief priests and elders of the Jews brought charges against him and asked that he be condemned.  16 “I told them that it is not the Roman custom to hand over any man before he has faced his accusers and has had an opportunity to defend himself against their charges.  17 When they came here with me, I did not delay the case, but convened the court the next day and ordered the man to be brought in.  18 When his accusers got up to speak, they did not charge him with any of the crimes I had expected.  19 Instead, they had some points of dispute with him about their own religion and about a dead man named Jesus who Paul claimed was alive.  20 I was at a loss how to investigate such matters; so I asked if he would be willing to go to Jerusalem and stand trial there on these charges.  21 When Paul made his appeal to be held over for the Emperor’s decision, I ordered him held until I could send him to Caesar.”  22 Then Agrippa said to Festus, “I would like to hear this man myself.” He replied, “Tomorrow you will hear him.”

The scene shifts.  We now meet king Herod Agrippa II.  If the name sounds familiar, he was the great-grandson of Herod the Great (Matthew 2:1).  We’ll spend more time with this man in our next reading together.  The point of this section is that Paul’s high-profile court case granted him a new audience—new experiences he would never have had otherwise.

THE GOSPEL AND FATE

If I believe that my life is governed by fate, chances are that changes my perspective on my negative circumstances.  At worst, I see my struggles as the result of some past failure.  “If only I’d listened to my mother.”  “If only I hadn’t taken that job.”  At best, I see it as some hurdle to overcome.  “Everything happens for a reason,” I insist.  “I just need to stay strong.”

Do you see how both reactions are wrong for the same reason?  Fate pushes me toward self-examination.  My performance comes into question.  But if the gospel is true, then my life is not governed by fate, but by a personal God.  Jesus left His Father’s side so that each of us could be drawn near.  And because of this, God draws us into His larger story.  Like Paul, God is at work in every detail of our lives.  Are you looking for Him?  Or are you preoccupied with understanding your own destiny?

To believe in the gospel means to repent of the religion of the great “perhaps.”  I believe that when we read stories like Paul’s, we can hear God whispering to us: “Don’t worry if you don’t have it all figured out.  I never meant for life to be figured out.  I meant for life to be lived.  Trust in Me.  Look to Me.  Talk to Me.  It doesn’t mean that life will get better, or even easier.  But it does mean that life can be filled with purpose and joy.”

Is that your prayer life?  Are you seeking God in every circumstance?  Today’s a great day to start.