The Waking Dreamer: Book of Acts

Showing posts with label Book of Acts. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 21, 2025

Jesus Calls Us

John 21:1-17; Acts 9:1-20[1]

Last week we talked about how we are always in the process of “coming to faith” in the midst of new challenges and opportunities. And we do that by responding to those challenges and opportunities with a faith that is both true to life and true to who we are. But the question remains, what does it look like for us to authentically “come to faith”? In one of our Scripture lessons, we heard the story of Saul’s “conversion” on the road to Damascus. That experience has been held up by many in our day as the definitive model for what it means for us to truly come to faith in Jesus. We make a complete, 180-degree turn in our lives. We turn away, in a dramatic experience, from all that may lead us “astray” and determine to walk the “straight and narrow path.”

That traditional view of conversion has resulted in a lot of people getting “saved” who never really experience much of a change in the way they live. Once the “drama” in the dramatic conversion wears off, everything goes “back to normal.” I would say there’s something amiss when that happens. In our Scripture lessons for today we hear the stories of three people who, when Jesus called them, changed the way they were living their lives, and never went “back to normal.” In part, that change took place because their encounter with Jesus changed the way they viewed reality as a whole, and how they were going about their lives. But I would say the Bible is full of stories of people who changed the way they lived because of an encounter with God. And the point of those stories is that truly coming to faith changes the way you live.

In our Gospel lesson, Simon Peter and a number of the other “apostles” have gone fishing. It’s a little confusing, because this story comes after John’s Gospel has already told us about Jesus’ appearance to them, not once but twice. It would seem that this story, which had the ring of truth to it, never quite found a “home” in the tradition of preaching the good news that came to be written down in our Gospels. What is notable is that it “explains” how Simon Peter went from being a deserter to being a leader in the early church. After boasting that though all the others might desert Jesus, he would die before doing so (cf. Matt. 26:33/Mk. 14:29), Peter publicly denied even knowing Jesus. Not once, but three times. It shouldn’t surprise us that Peter went fishing. He likely thought his career as an “apostle” of Jesus was over.

But Jesus had different plans for Peter. Jesus revealed himself to Peter as the one who was risen from the dead and called them all back from fishing. Even Peter. After they shared a meal together, Jesus had an unusual conversation with Peter. He began by asking, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these others do?” (Jn. 21:15, NLT). I would say it’s likely that Jesus’ question alluded to Peter’s boast, which implied that he loved Jesus more than the other disciples, because he would die with Jesus even though the others deserted him. Peter, now a much humbler man after his bitter failure, simply answered, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” And in response, Jesus simply told him, “Feed my lambs.” Just a simple task, yet one that would take all the love, all the energy, and all the strength he had to give. And to leave no room for doubt about what Jesus had in mind for him, he asked Peter the same question three times, and each time he told Peter that if he loved him, Peter should show it by caring for the “flock.” Peter emerged from this encounter with Jesus a changed man.

In our lesson from the book of Acts, we learn how Saul the Pharisee encountered Jesus, alive and risen. Given our general impression of St. Paul the Apostle to the Gentiles, we might find the description of Saul the Pharisee a bit shocking: he was “breathing threats and murder” against the disciples of Jesus (Acts. 9:1)! It’s hard for us to imagine the same Apostle who wrote “Love is patient; love is kind” (1 Cor. 13:4) acting out such vicious hostility. But as he was on his way to carry out his violent intentions, he met Jesus. I find it interesting that, when Jesus confronts him, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” (Acts 9:4), Saul replies, “Who are you, Lord?” Despite his former notions about Jesus, Saul recognized that he was dealing with the “Lord.” But nevertheless, I think he was stunned to hear the answer: “I am Jesus, the one you are persecuting!” (Acts 9:5 NLT). And as we know, that encounter with Jesus, alive and risen, changed his life. Saul the persecutor became Paul the preacher of the Gospel.

But he wasn’t the only one who was changed. We also hear how Ananias, one of the believers living in Damascus, was changed, and perhaps the whole community of believers as well. Ananias had heard about Saul’s violent persecution of believers. Like most of the Christians of that day, I’m quite sure Ananias feared Saul. And yet, we hear that Jesus appeared to Ananias in a “vision” and told him to “Go” and “ask for” Saul of Tarsus. It’s not surprising that Ananias objected! But Jesus insisted, “Go, for Saul is my chosen instrument” (Acts 9:15, NLT). And so Ananias went. But his encounter with Jesus had also changed him. Instead of approaching Saul with fear, he called him, “Brother Saul,” and he prayed for him. As a result, Saul was welcomed into the fellowship of believers. I would say that played no small role in the fact that Saul the former persecutor began preaching the Gospel so effectively that the believers had to smuggle him out of Damascus for his own safety.

Three stories of people who encountered Jesus, alive and risen from the dead. Three stories of people whose lives were forever changed by that encounter. Peter went from being a dejected failure to a leader of the church. “Simon, do you love me more than these others do?” “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” “Feed my lambs.” Saul went from being a violent persecutor to a humble and obedient servant of the Gospel. “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” “Who are you, Lord?” “I am Jesus, the one you are persecuting!” Ananias, and likely the whole community of believers, went from living in fear of persecution to witnessing first-hand what God could do with someone like Saul the Pharisee when they embraced him as a brother.

I would say that in each case, these people were following a course of action that was dictated by their assumptions about their lives, about their reality, and about other people. Peter went fishing, he wasn’t feeding any lambs. Saul wasn’t proclaiming the Gospel, he was trying to stop it. Ananias wasn’t about to go anywhere near Saul of Tarsus, let alone call him “brother” or pray for him. But those assumptions were preventing them from fulfilling the work of God’s kingdom. So Jesus, the one who was alive and risen from the dead, confronted each of them. And in response, their lives were never the same. It makes me wonder what assumptions we’re holding that may be preventing us from fulfilling the work of God’s kingdom in our day. Perhaps it’s time we submit them to Jesus, the one who is alive and risen from the dead, so that we might learn from him how our lives need to change. Coming to faith is always about responding to the call of Jesus in the midst of new challenges and opportunities in a way that is both true to life and true to who we are.

Monday, June 08, 2020

Astonishing

Acts 2:1-21; Psalm 104:24-34[1]

I don’t know about you, but I’d say that my experience with 2020 so far has been anything but “normal.” I lost a mother and gained a granddaughter. I’ve worn a mask over my face and nose in public places. As many of us have reflected, it feels like our lives have been completely upended. Of course, much of this is due to the Covid-19 pandemic. My son Derek and his wife have a collaborative game called “Pandemic.” The idea is that if you stop the pandemic, everybody wins. If you don’t, everybody loses. What a concept. It’s been an astonishing year, to say the least.

I find the language that our insurance companies use for astonishing events somewhat ironic: they call them “Acts of God.” Hurricanes, tornadoes, floods, and earthquakes, are “Acts of God” that insurance providers may exclude from your coverage. Of course, there was a time when people believed these unprecedented catastrophes truly did come from God. There are some who still do. But now we can explain their natural causes. Much of what at one time would have been attributed to some mysterious “act of God” now has a completely rational explanation.

This also applies to the way we view our faith. One of the traits of our branch of the Christian family is an approach that seeks to explain all things spiritual in terms that everyone can understand. That’s why the sermon became the focus for Christian worship instead of the Communion table. In the Catholic Church, the whole point of the service is the miracle by which the bread and wine become Jesus’ own body and blood. It is a great mystery, not to be explained, but to be experienced. In our Reformed churches, however, the point of worship is to explain the faith reasonably.

In our lesson from Acts, which tells the story of the outpouring of the Spirit on the day of Pentecost, the response of the people who witnessed it was not one of calm, reasonable understanding, but rather they were “bewildered,” “amazed and astonished,” and “perplexed” (Acts 2:6 ,7, 12). This event, which I would consider a real “Act of God,” was beyond their ability to comprehend or explain. It left them in a state of confusion, as the lesson puts it: “All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, ‘What does this mean?’” (Acts 2:12).

Most of us don’t like what we can’t understand. We feel uncomfortable with confusion. And so some may also insist that the “miracle” of Pentecost was that the language of the Apostles was fully intelligible to people of many different dialects. This is one of the many ways we try to keep God firmly within the box of what we can explain. Unfortunately, that kind of faith doesn’t have the power to motivate us to live for the peace and justice and freedom of God’s Kingdom in a world that is so unfree and unjust.

When the Spirit comes, really comes, everything changes. We can’t remain in our comfortable ruts because the Spirit won’t let us! One of the questions I’ve received from the congregation is about the role of the Spirit in our lives. The Spirit brings the word of Scripture to life so that it calls forth our faith and love. The Spirit works in our lives constantly to shape us into the image of Christ. The Spirit empowers every aspect of our lives as Christians and everything we do as the Body of Christ. The Spirit teaches us, convicts us, equips us with gifts, calls us, and perhaps most importantly, pushes us out of our comfortable ruts. When the Spirit really comes to work in our lives, we should expect it to be astonishing.

I would have to say that one of the lessons of Pentecost is that when “God happens,” it will be something astonishing, like Pentecost itself. If we want to see God at work in our midst, we need to be prepared for some amazement, some confusion, something beyond our understanding. If we want our faith to make a difference in the way we live, if we want our church to be alive with the power of the Spirit, we have to expect that it will only happen to the extent that the God of Pentecost comes to us and shakes things up and blows things around.[2] And when that happens, we should expect to be astonished!

[1] ©Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm, Ph. D., on 5/31/2020 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. Leonora Tubbs Tisdale, “The Wind that Blows the Doors Off,” Journal for Preachers 26 no 4 (Pentecost 2003): 56, where she says, because of “This wild Spirit wind of God … everyone in that room who thought they had God all figured out and safely circumscribed in their neat and orderly theological boxes, saw the doors of those boxes completely blown off.”

Wednesday, May 29, 2019

Seeing the Vision

Acts 16:6-15[1]

Many of us find as we take our journey through life that we have “growing points” at various stages. At times it may be job-related; at other times it may involve our personal lives. The way life changes and challenges us means that very few of us will manage the journey without facing some kind of “growing points.” For me, it was learning to live by myself. I had never really done it. I went from living at home, to living with a roommate at college, to being married. When I found myself single again 7 years ago, I had to learn to become comfortable living by myself. It wasn’t particularly easy. Some of you may have faced a similar experience. I would say most of us have had to deal with some kind of “growing point” at some time.

One of the real challenges with this kind of experience is that it typically takes us outside of our “comfort zones.” Sometimes way outside! We may have to re-evaluate some or all of what we have held onto in order to define our identity. We may have to learn completely new ways of finding meaning and joy in life. We may have to re-define the “dream” that inspires us. We may have to see anew the “vision” that guides us. “Growing points” aren’t particularly welcome. But if we are willing to learn from them, we can emerge from the experience healthier, stronger, and perhaps even happier with our lives.

I think that our scripture lesson from the book of Acts for today may contain a “growing point” for the Apostle Paul. It’s not obvious, especially because we are used to thinking of Paul as the “Apostle to the Gentiles.” So when we hear of Paul’s vision of a “man of Macedonia,” a part of what we would have called Greece, it makes perfect sense that they were “convinced that God had called us to proclaim the good news to them” (Acts 16:10). After all, in describing his initial encounter with the risen Christ, Paul himself said that it took place “so that I might proclaim him among the Gentiles” (Gal. 1:16). So it would seem that this was a perfectly natural “next step” in Paul’s journey as an Apostle and preacher of the Gospel to the Gentiles.

But if you pay attention to the story of Paul’s career in the book of Acts, you find an interesting detail: whenever Paul and his companions entered a new city, they started their ministry in the Jewish synagogue. In fact, it would not be an overstatement to say was their primary “mission strategy.” When they came to a new city, they went straight to the synagogue. In fact the book of Acts says it was his “custom” to attend the local synagogue on the Sabbath day wherever he went (Acts 17:2). It was a logical place where Paul could find people who might have an interest in the Gospel. Perhaps it was also “familiar territory.”

But when Paul first “crossed over” into what was essentially new territory, and came to the city of Philippi, apparently there was no Jewish synagogue there. The Scripture lesson says that at first “they remained in the city for some days” (Acts 16:12). Then on the Sabbath day they went outside the city by the river “where we supposed there was a place of prayer” (Acts 16:13). And indeed, there they met a group of women gathered for prayer and shared the gospel with them. They planted a church in the house of a wealthy businesswoman named Lydia. And the church at Philippi flourished.

For Paul and his companions, this was a different strategy. They were in new territory, since they had “crossed over” from the Middle East into Greek lands. I wonder what they were doing “for some days” in Philippi. I wonder if they were dealing with culture shock. I wonder whether they were unsure as to how to proceed, since there wasn’t a Jewish synagogue where they could begin their work of preaching the gospel. I get the feeling they were “improvising” a bit. But what they had was a vision and a conviction: Paul’s vision of “helping” the Greeks, and the conviction that God had called them to proclaim the gospel to people who worshiped pagan gods and lived very differently. So they found a way to carry out their conviction in the midst of uncertainty and they improvised!

I’ve had this experience myself living overseas. It was my family’s custom to find a church home wherever we lived. When we lived in Germany, we initially planned on going to the local German language church. But then culture shock got the best of us. My wife didn’t really know German, and we had a toddler and a newborn. So instead, we wound up at MacDonald’s. We didn’t much like MacDonald’s, but it felt like home. While we were there we ran into another American family who told us about an English-speaking church not far away. That became the church we attended while we lived in Germany. We followed our conviction to find a church home and so we were able to deal with the uncertainty of an unfamiliar situation.

I’ve said many times that our church is in “unfamiliar territory.” I think that’s true for almost all churches in our culture these days. Just about every church is trying new and different strategies for reaching people. Some of them have decided to jettison their traditions regarding worship and even what they believe in order to get more people in the pews. I would prefer to do as Paul and his friends did: holding fast to our vision and our conviction. But in order to do that, we have to know what our vision for ministry is. We say that our vision is to serve. But what do we hope to accomplish through that service? I think we also have to have an idea what we’re “convinced” God has called us to do. I think we might start by exploring the idea of following Christ in order to lead others to follow him. That’s a vision that can lead us to find new ways of serving others in this changing and challenging time. It’s a vision that can help us to improvise and innovate, while still holding firmly to our convictions.

[1] © Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 5/26/2019 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

No Distinctions

Acts 11:1-18[1]

Last week we talked about how the church in our day doesn’t exactly have a positive image, at least in our culture at large. One of the things the church is known for is being perceived as stuck in a rut. We are judged to be “out of date” in our attitudes, in our thinking, and in our worship. Indeed, the basic order of worship we follow dates back 1400 years! And, of course, it’s a curious fact that when you walk into some churches, you can tell when they stopped adapting, because their clothing, their hair styles, even their patterns of speech reflect a particular time. Some of the most obvious examples are the Mennonites and the Amish. But it’s found in churches of all stripes.

In this church, however, we have embraced more than twenty significant changes or innovations in the last 5 years! Of course, not everyone has been 100 per cent on board with every one of those changes. But for a church, that’s a lot of change! And I think it raises a question for us as a church: when is change something to be embraced, and when should we stay with tradition? That’s not an easy question to answer. I think most of us in the church have had to live with the tension of wanting to change in order to grow, but also wanting to maintain traditions that define the church for us.

In our Scripture lesson from the book of Acts for today, we get to “listen in” on how the early church dealt with change. In fact, I think calling it a “change” is a vast understatement. The issue they were dealing with very likely felt more like an earthquake that was shaking loose all the foundations upon which their faith and their life were built! Peter had preached the gospel to Gentiles. For us that seems logical, because we assume that was the trajectory of the Gospel: from Jerusalem, to Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth. But the actual working out of that trajectory involved negotiating some very tricky pitfalls surrounding the relationship between the Jewish people and those they considered “Gentiles.”

By the time of the New Testament, the Jewish people had been forced to find a way to interact with Gentiles for several hundred years. They had been spread across the Mediterranean world, beginning with the Babylonian exile 700 years before Jesus. One of the ways that people groups survive being dispersed among other cultures is to define certain “boundary markers” that are considered absolute. For the Jewish people, they were circumcision (as a religious rite), keeping the Sabbath, and observing the food laws regarding what was “clean” and “unclean.” These were non-negotiable; they were the boundaries that protected Jewish identity. The Jewish people viewed making distinctions between who’s “in” and who’s “out” as a matter of survival.

In our lesson, we hear about Peter’s experience with preaching the gospel to the household of a Roman centurion named Cornelius. This constituted more than a logical next step in the Christian mission. It was a blurring of the distinctions that secured what it meant to be Jewish in a world where that seemed to be threatened at every turn. So it should come as no surprise that when Peter’s actions were reported in Jerusalem, the complaint against him was that he went to “uncircumcised men” and ate with them (Acts 11:3). The primary concern was not over the fact that he had baptized Gentiles as converts to the faith. Rather, it was that he had broken the boundaries that protected their Jewish identity, and they felt threatened by that!

Peter replies by recounting, “step by step,” the process by which he had been led to do such a “scandalous” thing. He begins by telling them about the vision he had of being commanded to eat all kinds of foods that were considered “unclean” by the Torah of Moses. In response he objected, “By no means, Lord; for nothing profane or unclean has ever entered my mouth” (Acts 11:8). The answer he received was, “What God has made clean, you must not call profane.” Obviously, Peter claims he was led to cross the Jewish boundary lines by a vision from God. Beyond that, when the men from Cornelius came to the house and asked for Peter, he tells them that “The Spirit told me to go with them and not to make a distinction between them and us” (Acts 11:12).

Now, so far, we’re completely in the realm of Peter’s own personal spiritual experience. And, of course, relying on individual experience alone is not always the wisest course. But Peter goes on to recount that as soon as he began to proclaim the gospel to the Gentiles, “the Holy Spirit fell upon them just as it had upon us at the beginning” (Acts 11:15). Now we’re dealing with the experience of a larger group of people. Beyond that, Peter used “the word of the Lord” to interpret this boundary-breaking experience. He recalled that Jesus said, “John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit” (Acts 11:16). Peter’s conclusion was straightforward: “If then God gave them the same gift that he gave us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I that I could hinder God?” (Acts 11:17).

I know that change is difficult for most of us. I’ve been through my fair share of changes, both those I embraced and those I resisted, and believe me, I understand. But if the church is to remain vital and relevant through changing times, we may have to give up some of the “boundaries” and “distinctions” we have relied upon to feel stable and secure. We will have to be open to the working of the Spirit among us. As we together try to discern the guidance of the Spirit, we can continue to look to the word of the Lord to guide us. With the guidance of the Spirit, the Scriptures, and the community in which we seek together to discern our path, we can learn to let go the human distinctions we may rely on for stability and security, and trust God to lead us.

[1] ©Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 5/19/2019 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Tuesday, May 28, 2019

Open Our Eyes

Acts 9:1-20[1]

Some say that the hardest thing to do is to tell another person, “I’m sorry.” And I would agree that it can be difficult to say those words. It takes humility to be able to apologize to someone we’ve offended or wronged. But as hard as it is to utter the words, “I’m sorry,” I think it is even harder to say the words, “I was wrong.” Apologizing still leaves room for the possibility that you didn’t mean any harm. Saying, “I was wrong” goes beyond that and accepts responsibility for offending someone. That can really challenge us to the core of our identity. Saying “I was wrong” can be humiliating, and painful.

In our Scripture lesson from the book of Acts for today, we learn that Saul the Pharisee found out that he was wrong in a dramatic way. Given our general impression of St. Paul the Apostle to the Gentiles, we might find the description of Saul the Pharisee a bit shocking. The Scripture reading says that he was “breathing threats and murder” against the disciples of Jesus (Acts. 9:1)! It’s hard for us I think to imagine the same Apostle who wrote “Love is patient; love is kind” (1 Cor. 13:4) acting out such vicious hostility. Apparently, it was not enough for Saul the Pharisee that the Christians had been driven out of Jerusalem. He was on his way to Damascus to arrest them and drag them back for punishment!

I think it may be hard for us to understand what would inspire such intense violence. In the case of Saul the Pharisee, it would appear that what he would later call “the scandal of the cross” (Gal. 3:13) was the basis for his zeal to attack believers. The fact that Jesus had been crucified constituted for Saul conclusive proof that he could not have been the Messiah. According to the Hebrew Bible, a crucified man stood under God’s curse (Deut. 21:23). So for Saul, the gospel that the crucified Jesus was God’s Messiah constituted blasphemy.[2] In Saul’s mind, he was rounding up blasphemers for the punishment they deserved.

But as he was on his way to Damascus to carry out his violent intentions, he met the living Christ along the way. It’s hard to tell exactly what happened because the book of Acts recounts it three times in three slightly different ways. But the dialogue makes it clear that Saul met Jesus. And Jesus was the one who had been raised from the dead and was alive forevermore, not some messianic pretender Saul thought was dead. Interestingly, when Christ confronts him, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” (Acts 9:4), he replies, “Who are you, Lord?” Despite his preconceived notions, he recognized that he was dealing with some kind of divine encounter. I’m sure he was stunned to hear the answer: “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting” (Acts 9:5)!

In that moment, I can just imagine what must have been going through Saul’s mind. He had been violently pursuing Jesus’ followers out of a conviction that they were the worst kind of blasphemers.[3] I would think that meeting Jesus on that road started his mind swirling in the most intense kind of re-evaluation of his life we could imagine. I would say that when he opened his eyes and could not see, it was symbolic of the blindness from which he had been doing things he now regretted. After all, even at the end of his life, St. Paul could still call himself the “chief of sinners” because he formerly persecuted the church (1 Tim. 1:15).

When I think about this story, I wonder what made such a dramatic change in the life of Saul, a strict Pharisee who had been so zealous for God and God’s Torah that he had condemned the followers of Jesus to death (Acts 26:10). I think surely the fact that he came face-to-face with Jesus must have been a powerful experience. I would imagine that he felt not the anger or rejection he may have thought he deserved, but grace, mercy, and love. And above all, I think he experienced an acceptance that transcended anything he had ever known. When Ananias came to him and called him “brother Saul,” and baptized him, I think it must have affected Saul deeply. More than that, when he learned he was “an instrument whom I have chosen to bring my name before Gentiles and kings and before the people of Israel” (Acts 9:15), I think it must have been deeply humbling to him.

A lot of eyes were opened in the course of these events. Saul’s eyes were opened. Jesus was not an impostor, he was truly the Messiah and Son of God, as Saul began to preach immediately after being baptized! The believers were not blasphemers for proclaiming a Gospel he now knew to be true. The eyes of many in the early church were opened to the power of God: their most violent opponent had been transformed into a brother and a fellow believer, and he proclaimed the faith he once tried to destroy. Although it took some time for the Apostles in Jerusalem to trust him, even they ultimately received Saul the Pharisee as a brother. A lot of eyes were opened indeed.

When our eyes are opened, it often involves a recognition that we’ve been wrong. That can be a hard experience. It involves admitting that we’ve been acting on assumptions that were false. It involves recognizing that we may have been in the wrong in the things we’ve done and said. All of that is humbling, and challenging. I think what makes such an experience truly life-changing is when we admit we are wrong, but find that we are accepted nevertheless. There are times when we come face to face with our wrong thoughts, words, and deeds. Hopefully when that happens, we will embrace the opportunity to have our eyes opened, and to take a different direction with our lives as did Saul the Pharisee.

[1] © Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 5/5/2019 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. F. F. Bruce, Paul: Apostle of the Heart Set Free, 71: “A crucified Messiah was worse than a contradiction in terms; the very idea was an outrageous blasphemy.”

[3] Cf. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics 3.1:199, where he says that Paul is “an opponent and persecutor of the community simply because (cf. Rom. 9:4f.) he stands for Israel, for its election and calling, for its mission to the world, for the course and development of its history as the history of salvation, and therefore for the faithfulness which is to be shown to God in the form of the faithfulness of Israel, its obedience to the Law which He has given it and its trust in the promises which He has made to it, … . He persecutes Christians because he sees that this economy of reconciliation and revelation is questioned, transcended, relativised and outmoded by them, i.e., by their proclamation of the person, work, lordship and authority of the Jesus of Nazareth rejected by Israel and delivered up by it to be crucified, by their declaration of His Messiahship, election, calling and commission, of His history as salvation history, of the demand to obey Him, to trust in the promise given in Him, to believe the Word spoken in His existence.”

Tuesday, September 11, 2018

Honoring Jesus

Acts 3:12-19[1]

It seems to me that “honor” is one of those words that has lost some ground in our society. To be sure, there are places where honor still plays a role, like the military. And Scouts pledge on a weekly basis “on their honor” to do their best. But the scandals that have rocked our society in recent history have diminished the honor we attribute to our leaders and those who serve our country. After Watergate, Iran-Contra, Whitewater, Tailhook, and others, the honor with which we esteem leaders even at the highest levels in our society has seriously eroded. The fact that many of our leaders are to be addressed as “honorable” may stick in our throats when we try to say it.

On the other hand, there are aspects of our life where honor still plays a role. We seek to honor our parents, especially when they get older and need help. We honor those who retire from positions after many years of faithful service. Around here, we honor those who have served our church faithfully for many decades. We also have a tradition of honoring those who work behind the scenes with little public recognition with our annual “Church Mouse” award. Of course, there are also other community leaders that we respect and honor for their integrity, their devotion, and their passion for their work. It’s a joy to be able to hold those who serve and lead in our communities in honor.

I find it interesting that the story of the early church in Acts is recounted in a way that essentially honors Jesus as the source, the inspiration, and the driving force behind everything they did. Many of the amazing things that they did they attributed to the power of Jesus’ name. In our lesson for today, Peter says it this way: “by faith in [Jesus’] name, his name itself has made this man strong, whom you see and know; and the faith that is through Jesus has given him this perfect health in the presence of all of you” (Acts 3:16). When the people tried to honor the Apostles for their astounding deeds of mercy, they consistently pointed the crowds to Jesus.

It may be difficult to understand this theme, but I think essentially they were talking about the fact that, as our lesson for today puts it, “the God of our ancestors has glorified his servant Jesus” (Acts 3:13). Again, the idea of “glorifying” someone is not all that common in our world today. If we use the concept at all, it has a negative connotation, as in someone who is only interested in glorifying themselves. In my mind, however, what was going on in our lesson is that through the early Church God was publicly honoring Jesus, whom the Jewish leaders had subjected to a humiliating death.

This is but one way in which the Church saw themselves bearing witness to Jesus as our Savior and Lord. When you read the book of Acts closely, I think it becomes clear that their witness was a combination of words and deeds that promoted the new life in Christ as well as a lifestyle that publicly demonstrated the reality of that new life. The gospel they proclaimed was that through Jesus Christ God was in the process of bringing new life to all people.^{^[2]} And those first believers saw themselves as a community that was already experiencing the new life of the resurrected Jesus. What made their witness so effective at honoring Jesus was the combination of their message with their life.

Our lesson for today recounts a story in which that new life took a very tangible form. It is a story of the Apostles Peter and John healing a man who was crippled from birth, so that he “jumped up” and began “walking and leaping and praising God” (Acts 3:8)! Obviously that kind of thing would make a great stir. But what we should not overlook is the fact that everything about the first Christians’ life together demonstrated this gift of new life. When they devoted themselves to their fellowship with one another, it enhanced their experience of the new life in Christ. When they shared their possessions with one another help the needy, it made God’s promise to renew all things a reality. When they lived and worked in the harmony of “one heart and mind,” it demonstrated the new life the Spirit had given them.

Many will debate the truth of a miracle story like this. But I think to do so is to miss the greater truth: everything about the early Church’s life together bore witness that in Jesus the Christ God was fulfilling all the great promises of restoration and renewal and new life. The quality of their life and work served as evidence that the “wonderful times of refreshment” were already coming “from the presence of the Lord” and that “the final restoration of all things” that “God promised long ago through his prophets” was already in the process of being fulfilled (Acts 3:20-21, NLT). And all of this was intended to honor Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord.

I think one of the most important ways we can demonstrate honor in our personal lives is by seeking to line up our lives with our faith. It’s a matter of doing what St. Paul said when he urged us to “lead lives worthy of the Lord” (Col. 1:10). He put it a little differently when he said, “whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus” (Col. 3:17). As I tell the confirmation class every year, if we truly seek to live out the question “What would Jesus do?” I don’t think we’ll go too far astray. Again, the idea here is that by our words as well as our actions we are to bring honor to Jesus. We are called to show forth by our whole lives the new life we have received. And as we do so, hopefully we do it in such a way as to bring honor to our Lord and Savior Jesus the Christ.

[2] Cf. Diana Butler Bass, Christianity for the Rest of Us, 110-111, where she speaks of shalom as “God’s dynamic wholeness” that is the “central vision” of the Bible.

Wednesday, June 21, 2017

Telling Our Story

Telling our Story

Acts 1:6-14[1]

At Easter time, it’s common to see the phrase “It’s not about the Bunny.” As it turns out, that might not be entirely true. The image of a rabbit or a hare is an ancient one, and its original meaning is difficult to discern. But there is abundant evidence that the image of “three hares” was given Christian meaning as early as the 13^th Century.[2] It was associated with the Trinity in many contexts. But the “Easter Bunny” originated in the German Lutheran churches as a counterpart to Nikolaus, who comes to bring gifts to children who have been good and lumps of coal to those who have not. The first reference to an Easter Bunny playing a similar role is found in the 17^th century.

While the tradition of gift-giving at Easter as well as Christmas may have originated in the church, I think I would have to say that Easter is the celebration of our faith that death could not hold Jesus in the grave. Rather, God raised him up to new life as a demonstration that God is in the process of granting new life to us all. That is the true gift of Easter. And yet, as foundational as that is to our faith, I would have to say that the point of Easter is not just about the gift. It’s also about the astounding task that Jesus gave to all of those who follow him: to bear witness to the new life we have through his death and resurrection to the whole world.

The story that the book of Acts tells about the early church is a story of witness—the witness to the resurrection of Jesus and the new life that comes out of it. As soon as the church receives the power of the Spirit, they begin to bear witness to the resurrection of Jesus. In fact, from then on, they rarely mention the events surrounding Jesus’ resurrection without adding, “We are witnesses of these things.” One of the amazing features of this story is that, despite all obstacles, against all odds, the early church’s witness to Jesus’ resurrection is a great success. It is natural to wonder what made the witness of the early church so successful. I think it was the fact that their message was demonstrated by their life.

The message of the early church was that Jesus had been raised from the dead by God, who vindicated Jesus’ claim to be our Savior. They proclaimed to all who would listen that the resurrection of Jesus from the dead is a sign pointing us to God’s new creation that is already working to transform us all. They proclaimed that the resurrection validated Jesus’ claim to be the bearer of the kingdom of God, the realm of compassionate justice and joyful new life. And they proclaimed the hope that, just as God has restored Jesus to life, so also God will restore all creation to life.

But perhaps just as important a factor in the early church’s witness was that their message was backed up by their life.[3] They lived out the good news by their mutual acceptance of one another and by extending God’s gracious welcome to all. They sought God’s guidance in prayerful discernment by asking questions together and listening together for the answers. They lived out the joy of the resurrection in worship that opened their hearts and minds to a genuine experience of God. They shared their faith and their experience of God’s love with one another by sharing their testimony. They integrated the good news into every aspect of their lives through open and humble study. And they went out from their prayer and worship and study seeking to put into practice the compassion of God’s kingdom in every facet of life.

Some who study these matters would say that it was these practices that made the early church’s witness so powerful. I think I might put it a little differently—what made them so successful was that their witness came out of the experience of being radically transformed in their own hearts and minds and lives. They were bearing witness to that which they had experienced first hand! One of the early Christian leaders put it this way: what they spoke about was “something which … we ourselves actually saw and heard: something which we had an opportunity to observe closely and even to hold in our hands” (1 John 1:1, Phillips).

This new way of living is the true gift of Easter. And it is a gift that is for everyone, everywhere. I’ve used the analogy of an immunization before to illustrate the power of this gift. Like a vaccination spreads protection against disease throughout the body, so Jesus’ death and resurrection spreads new life throughout the whole creation. Where the analogy breaks down is that a shot usually takes effect fairly quickly to protect us from illness. On the other hand, the new life Jesus “injected” into this world through his death and resurrection has been working to transform all things and all people for over 2000 years.

In part, that transformation is something only God can accomplish. And yet, one of the means God has chosen to carry out this work is through people like you and me. As we live out the faith, hope, love, and joy of the new life in our lives, we contribute to the spread of this healing power in our world. But at the end of the day, we also have to speak. We cannot carry out the task of bearing witnesses to the new life of Easter silently. We are called and commissioned and empowered by the Spirit to share the message of Easter with those we encounter. If the new life is truly a reality that makes a difference for us, we are charged with the task of telling our story to others. It can be that simple: as we tell our story, we too are witnesses to the new life that Easter brings to us all.

[2] See “Three Hares” at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Three_hares .

[3] Cf. William H. Willimon, Acts, 52; cf. also Anthony B. Robinson and Robert W. Wall, Called to Be Church: The

Book of Acts for a New Day.

Abiding Presence

John 14:15-21, Acts17:22-31[1]

One of the questions that has occupied the attention of the human family, especially in the modern era, is one that haunts us: “Are we alone in the universe?” Some think that we are, or at least that there is a relatively small chance that other worlds capable of sustaining intelligent life exist. Others think that the probabilities based on the sheer number of galaxies in the universe demand that there are many planets out there with intelligent life. We may never know the answer to the question “Are we alone” viewed from this perspective.

But I wonder if the fact that this question has been framed almost exclusively from a scientific point of view has kept us from finding an answer. The message of Scripture is that we have never been truly “alone.” It’s the point of our faith in creation: a God beyond our understanding created all of the worlds that are and us along with them as an act of love. This means that by definition, this creator God seeks a relationship with us. Beyond that, it’s also the point of our faith that Jesus is “God-with-us.” The incarnation teaches us that God does not choose to leave us on our own to try to grope in the darkness for some kind of meaning to life. And the ongoing work of the Spirit in each of our lives reminds us constantly of God’s promise of his abiding presence with us.

Our Scripture lessons for today reinforce this promise of God’s abiding presence. In St. Paul’s sermon to the Greeks in Athens, he uses the fact that they had a shrine dedicated to “an unknown God” as an opportunity to proclaim to them the God who must have seemed very strange to them: a God who is both exalted and yet intimately involved in the lives of ordinary people. Paul begins by insisting that this “unknown” God whom he wants to make known to them is “The God who made the world and everything in it, he who is Lord of heaven and earth” (Acts 17:24). This must have seemed to be a strange God indeed, for the Greek deities were thought to be powerful, but they were hardly concerned about humanity.

But the “unknown” God whom Paul seeks to introduce to the people of Athens is a God who cares very much about all creation, humanity included. In fact, the whole reason why this God created humanity was to have a relationship with them. The Apostle puts it this way: “he made all nations to inhabit the whole earth, ... so that they would search for God and perhaps grope for him and find him” (Acts 17:26-27). The idea is that from the orderliness and beauty of nature, as well as from the mystery of their own experience, somehow people would be able to discern that behind it all stood a creator who loved them.

And to emphasize the point, he quoted one of their own poets: “In him we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28). This was something that most people of his day and time very likely didn’t believe. They believed the “gods” lived on Mount Olympus, beyond their reach, but close enough to meddle in human affairs. But St. Paul presents the God of the Scriptures as one who is intimately involved in human life. As one contemporary observer puts it, we live in a “God-bathed world.”[2] The God in whose presence we constantly live is the one who cares for and nurtures all creation.

Jesus offered the same message to his disciples in our Gospel lesson. In this section of John’s Gospel, Jesus is preparing his followers for his imminent departure. Part of that preparation was a challenge, and part of it was assurance. The challenge was that those who follow him and who love him will “keep his commandments” (John 14:15). When we put his teachings into practice in our day-to-day living, then our love for God and for Jesus Christ truly define who we are. But this can seem to be an impossible challenge to those of us who realize that we are fallible mortals.

Fortunately, it’s not a do-it-yourself project. Jesus promised the disciples that “the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you” (Jn. 14:26). The Spirit is with us always to help us fulfill our commitment to follow Jesus by putting his teachings into practice. Not only does Jesus promise to give them the “Spirit of Truth” who will live in them, he also promises that his presence will be with them as well. Then he makes what must have been an astonishing statement to a group of Jewish fishermen: when he comes to them they would know “that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you” (Jn. 14:20). In other words, not only would they enjoy his continued presence in their lives. They would also share with him in the relationship he had with the Father. And that is a presence that abides with us constantly.

Jesus promised that through him we can enjoy the abiding presence of the Spirit. He is the one who makes it clear that our God is as close to us as the air we are breathing. The idea that we mortals could possibly have a relationship with the “Lord of heaven and earth” is one that is just as astonishing today as it was then. And yet it is entirely consistent with the witness of the Scriptures. The promise of the Spirit is that the breath of life fills us always. The promise of our Creator is that there is no place that is outside the realm of God’s loving care. The promise of our resurrected Savior is that wherever we are, he is with us, drawing us into the joy of God’s life and love. We are never alone in the universe. Every moment of every day we enjoy the abiding presence of our God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

[2] Dallas Willard, The Divine Conspiracy, 61, 78, 90.

Sunday, June 11, 2017

We are Witnesses

Acts 2:22-32[1]

We Presbyterians get pretty nervous around words like “witness.” It reminds us of people who go door-to-door, rather too confidently professing their own faith and assuming those they are “visiting” are spiritually “lost.” When I was a Seminary Professor, a young lady came to my door one night to ask me, “If you died tonight, are you sure that you would go to Heaven”! Of course I was polite with her, but I found it ironical that someone who was just starting her faith journey presumed that I needed “saving.” At the time I had been serving the gospel in a wide variety of ways for over twenty years! I give her credit for her effort, but I think that’s the kind of “witness” that makes us cringe.

I would say part of our problem is that is the only model we have for what it means to bear witness to our faith. We assume we have to go door-to-door behaving in a way that is at least disrespectful and perhaps worse. From another point of view, we may think that only those who have had an exceptional spiritual journey actually have something that’s worth sharing. When we think that’s what “bearing witness” to the gospel means, we may assume that we don’t have much to say. Or at least we don’t think that what we have to say counts as bearing witness to the gospel. For whatever reason, we don’t feel comfortable with the idea that “we are witnesses” to the gospel.

When we look at our Scripture reading for today, at first glance we may think it confirms our hesitation. Our lesson from the Book of Acts is part of Peter’s sermon on the day of Pentecost. In this part of the sermon, he talks about “deeds of power, wonders, and signs” (Acts 2:22) that they saw Jesus perform in order to demonstrate that he truly was sent from God. He also speaks fairly confidently about God’s “definite plan and foreknowledge” demonstrated in Jesus’ death and resurrection. All of this makes it sound like his witness to the good news about Jesus is way out of our league. Surely he must have some kind of insight that we are not permitted to attain. When Peter says “we all are witnesses” (Acts 2:32), he must be referring to a select group of Christians here.

But if you look at the passage a little more closely, Peter is doing something fairly common. He’s interpreting the events of Jesus’ death and resurrection in light of Scripture. In this case, it’s one of the Psalms. Peter quotes from Psalm 16 to make the point that it was God’s intention to raise Jesus from the dead all along. I think that makes sense, because Psalm 16 was a declaration of hope for anyone who trusted that their life was in God’s hands. The faith expressed in the Psalm was that nothing, not even death, could snatch them from the safety and joy they had in God’s presence.

In Peter’s case, the Psalm provided him with the language to bear witness to his experience that Jesus had in fact been raised from the dead. More than that, it helped him to give words to his conviction that this was God’s plan all along. So from one point of view, you could say that Peter’s witness was rather ordinary. By that I mean that in his “witness” Peter was not claiming some supernatural revelation. He was simply sharing his own experience as he understood it in light of Scripture. He was bearing witness to what he had seen and heard. That’s really all any of us can do: share our experience as we understand it in light of Scripture.

Of course, Peter and the others whose witness serves as the basis for our New Testament did have some extraordinary experiences. Peter’s “witness” in our lesson for today is part of his sermon on the day of Pentecost. We know that what made Peter’s “witness” so effective that day was he was “filled with the Spirit.” And we would say that it was the Spirit who empowered the testimony of the all the Apostles. Most of us would be uncomfortable claiming that we are “filled with the Spirit.” I doubt that we would say that our words of witness to the gospel are empowered by the Spirit. But I think this is an example of how we tend to take ourselves for granted. The Scriptures tell us that the Spirit has been poured out on us all. The Spirit is working to empower every one of us in whatever we may do in service to God and one another. And that includes our “witness.” The Spirit is at work when we share our experience of Christ with others.

I realize that, to many of us, our own faith journey may seem too “ordinary” for us to be able to “bear witness to the gospel.” It may seem like sharing our experience doesn’t count as a “witness” for Christ. But while our experiences may be similar, no two people have the same journey. That means each of us has insights into what it means to be a Christian that are unique. And it is our calling to share those experiences with those around us. They may seem insignificant to us, but we never really know what people are dealing with and how our words of encouragement might help them. Our very simple and ordinary “witness” might make all the difference in the world.

The truth of the matter is that “bearing witness to the gospel” is an entirely ordinary aspect of the Christian life. It’s as simple as telling the story of what you have seen and heard, as you understand it in light of Scripture. It’s as ordinary as talking about how God has worked in your life. The truth is we all have a story to tell, the story of our own faith journey. If nothing else, we all can relate to someone how we have experienced God’s love in our lives. Bearing witness to the gospel doesn’t have to be any more complicated than that. As Peter said so long ago, “We all are witnesses” (Acts 2:32).

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

Joyful Witness

Acts 1:6-14[1]

As I conclude my exploration of the factors that inspired Easter joy in the first Christians, you might think this is a strange way to do it. I’m afraid there are many in our day who may not associate “joyful” with the concept of bearing witness to our faith. We see bearing witness to our faith as a command, as a duty, as an obligation. That all sounds very heavy, burdensome, maybe even unpleasant. It’s a very different take from what we read in the book of Acts. For the early believers it was a privilege to be chosen as witnesses of the resurrection. For them it was an honor to be able to bear witness to their faith, to “give an answer for the hope” that was in them (1 Pet. 3:15). For them, the role of a witness was one they embraced joyfully.

So what has happened that something that was so prized, so valued, and so cherished has become something we dread? Many Christians these days would rather be burned at the stake than have to say anything to anyone about their faith.[2] How can this be? I have to wonder where we lost the joy of carrying out our calling to be Christ’s witnesses “to the ends of the earth” (Acts 1:8). I think part of the answer is that we have embraced a cultural norm that religion is a private matter, so we don’t talk about it. In fact, for many families religious differences have become such a bone of contention that we have learned to carefully avoid even the slightest hint of a discussion about faith. Unfortunately, that’s true in other areas of our lives as well. We don’t want to take the risk of offending anyone, so we don’t say anything.

But the Scriptures will not let us settle for that when it comes to our calling to bear witness to our faith. It is true that some Christians have caused more harm than good by their “evangelistic campaigns,” going door to door implying that everyone they meet is going to burn for eternity. And we certainly don’t want to follow that pattern. We believe that a our witness to the gospel must be combined with deeds of compassion that reflect the love of God. But it is a mistake to think that we can just let our “light shine” with our “good deeds” without actually saying anything about the “hope within us” that inspires those deeds. We may not like hearing it, but good deeds without Gospel words fall short of what I think the Risen Christ commanded his followers to make their vocation in life: bearing witness to him.

I think another problem may be that we tend to suffer from spiritual amnesia. We get so caught up in the demands and stresses of the moment that we forget what our faith has meant to us in the course of our lives. In the process, we have let slip our own spiritual histories, which would give us ample material for giving an answer for the hope that is in us if we paid more attention. That’s really all it takes to be a witness for Christ: being willing to share your story with someone else.[3] It’s not about arm-twisting or even “soul-winning.” Our job is to tell the story of our experience with our faith.[4]

I’m afraid another reason why we’re less than enthusiastic about this relates to a spiritual problem. Jesus told his disciples that what would enable them to go from being a group of frightened people huddled away in a secret room to being his witnesses “to the ends of the earth” was that “you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you” (Acts 1:8).[5] But it seems to me that for the Spirit to empower us to be witnesses to the Risen Christ, we have to cultivate the presence of the Spirit. This is another area where regular and continual personal worship is essential. We cannot hope to be joyful witnesses for Christ without the help of the Spirit.[6]

I realize that to some extent I may be stepping on toes here. But I believe we have to face the fact that without a vibrant witness the church in our day and time doesn’t have much of a future. If we want our churches to thrive in an ever-changing world, we have to do the one thing Jesus commanded us to do about it: to bear witness to our faith.[7] We have been entrusted with a crucial task: St. Paul calls it the “ministry of reconciliation.” It is the mission of sharing God’s love with those who may not think or feel that God loves them. And the way we do it is by telling the story of our experience of the new life that the risen Christ has given us. And so I believe that one irreplaceable element in our experience of Easter joy must be the story we share about it.[8]

[2] Cf. Diana Butler Bass, Christianity For the Rest of Us, 133, where she points out that this has been true among mainline churches for decades. She says, “Back in the 1960s, both parents and church school teachers taught us Methodist children that it was impolite, rude even, to talk about religion in public.”

[3] In light of the definition of evangelism in The Book of Order 2013-15 W-7.2001 (p. 145), this may seem to be too simplistic, but in my opinion, the most powerful witness is the one that comes from authentic personal experience.

[4] Cf. Bass, Christianity For the Rest of Us, 134, where she encourages this approach by pointing out that “The entire New Testament is a testimony, a record of experiences that early Christians had with the transformative power of God.” She adds (p. 138), reporting on the experiences of one congregation, that “Our stories ... tell of finding meaning, finding unique selves, and finding God in a confusing and chaotic world.”

[5] While it is true, as R. I Pervo, Acts: A commentary on the Book of Acts, 42, points out, that “for Luke the essence of power is the miraculous, so long as one understands that every manifestation of divine power is a miracle,” this is not the only manifestation of the Spirit’s empowerment in Acts. Pervo recognizes that the whole story of the early church in Acts stands under the promise of the empowerment of the Spirit (ibid., 44). From my perspective this includes proclamation, service, suffering for the gospel, and planting and building up churches. Cf. Shirley C. Guthrie, Jr, Christian Doctrine, 310, where he says it well: “according to the New Testament, the presence and power of the Holy Spirit are promised and experienced precisely in the church’s Sunday-by-Sunday preaching and teaching of the Word of God, its not-too-exciting everyday life, and its ministry to the world.”

[6] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, The Spirit of Life: A Universal Affirmation, 278–279: “Deeply moved, we ourselves move, and go out of ourselves. The primal image is the Pentecost story, which tells how the experience of the Spirit turns a crowd of Jesus’ intimidated disciples into free witnesses to Jesus Christ, apostles of the gospel who carry the tidings ‘to the ends of the earth.’” Cf. also Barth, Church Dogmatics 1.1:455.

[7] Cf. Hendrikus Berkhof, Christian Faith, 417, “If the church exists in the final analysis for the sake of the world, the church will obviously be viewed solely as an instrument for preaching the gospel and for rendering service.” Cf. also Guthrie, Christian Doctrine, 365, “As Reformed churches (along with others ...) have rediscovered the biblical idea that ‘apostolic’ means sent with a task or mission to fulfill, they are also rediscovering the biblical and Reformation understanding that the apostolic task is given not just to a few people with a special calling but to the whole Christian community and every one of its members. ...the task and privilege of the ministry of reconciliation is given to all.”

[8] Cf. Berkhof, Christian Faith, 326, where he points out that “all the appearances of the risen Jesus, with the exception of those on Easter morning itself, contain mandates for the work of missions which is now beginning (Matt. 28:19f.; Mark 16:20; Luke 24:49; John 20:21-23; 21:15-19; Acts 1:8).”

Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Joyful Presence

Acts 17:22-31; Jn 14:15-21[1]

When it comes to our views of God, it seems that we tend to fall into one of two extremes: either God as a glorified version of Santa Clause or God as the exalted monarch. Some seem to envision God as a kindly, but somewhat comic figure, like George Burns or Morgan Freeman. God is good and cares about us, but is not someone you take very seriously. Others seem to think of God as if they were having an audience with the Queen of England. You only speak to God in certain tightly scripted ways, you address God with “Thees” and “Thous,” and you never, ever touch him. I think these extremes, either an overly casual view of God, or an overly formal view, seem to dominate our ideas about God.

And yet, while the Scriptures do tread lightly when it comes to some aspects of experiencing God’s presence, in many ways they reveal a God who is both “high and lofty,” who “inhabits eternity,” but also is concerned about and present with “those who are contrite and humble in spirit” to give them new life (Isa. 57:15). I’ll grant you, that’s a difficult balance to maintain. But if we’re talking about the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the God of the prophets, and the God and Father of our Lord and Savior Jesus the Christ, it’s a balance that we have to try to keep.[2]

Two of our lessons for today observe that balance. In St. Paul’s sermon to the Greeks in Athens, he uses the fact that they had a shrine dedicated to “an unknown God” as an opportunity to proclaim to them the God who must have seemed very strange to them: a God who is both exalted and yet intimately involved in the lives of ordinary people. Paul begins by insisting that this “unknown” God whom he wants to make known to them is “The God who made the world and everything in it, he who is Lord of heaven and earth” (Acts 17:24). He is the God who “gives to all mortals life and breath and all things” (17:25). This must have seemed to be a strange God indeed, for although the Greek deities were thought to be exalted and powerful, they saw mere mortals only as pawns to be used however it suited them.

But this “unknown” God whom Paul seeks to introduce to the people of Athens is a God who cares very much about all creation, humanity included.[3] In fact, the whole reason why this God created humanity was to have a relationship with them. The Apostle puts it this way: “he made all nations to inhabit the whole earth, ... so that they would search for God and perhaps grope for him and find him” (Acts 17:26-27). The idea is that from the orderliness and beauty of nature, as well as from the mystery of their own experience, somehow people would be able to discern that behind it all stood a creator who loved them.

And to emphasize the point, he quoted one of their own poets: “In him we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28).[4] This was something that most people of his day and time very likely didn’t believe. They believed the “gods” lived on Mount Olympus, beyond their reach, but close enough to meddle in human affairs. But St. Paul presents the God of the Scriptures as one who is intimately involved in human life. As one contemporary observer put it, we live in a “God-bathed world.”[5] The God in whose presence we constantly live is the one who cares for and nurtures all creation.[6] This God is always as close to us as the air we are breathing.[7] This kind of relationship with God is one that I would say few of the people of Athens would have thought possible.

Jesus offered the same message to his disciples in our Gospel lesson. In this section of John’s Gospel, Jesus is preparing his followers for his imminent departure. Although he said many things that they very likely didn’t fully understand at the time, after his death and resurrection, these teachings must have been among the most cherished of Jesus’ words. He has told them already that he is going to the Father; here he reassures them that he will not leave them alone. He promises to give them the “Spirit of Truth” who will live in them, but he also promises that his presence will be with them as well. Then he makes what must have been an astonishing statement to a group of Jewish fishermen: when he comes to them they would know “that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you” (Jn. 14:20). In other words, not only would they enjoy his continued presence in their lives. They would also share with him in the relationship he had with the Father.[8] I can only imagine the look of shock on their faces as he made this amazing promise.

It seems to me that this is another facet of Easter joy. Jesus and the Apostles promised that through him we can enjoy the constant presence of the God who is as close as the air we are breathing. The idea that we humans could possibly have a relationship with the “Lord of heaven and earth” is one that is just as astonishing today as it was then. And yet it is entirely consistent with the witness of the Scriptures. The promise of our Creator is that there is no place we can go that is outside the realm of God’s loving care.[9] The promise of our resurrected Savior is that wherever we are, he is with us, drawing us into the joy of God’s life and love.[10]

[2] Cf. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics 2.1:477, where he says that the “lesson of Isaiah 57:15” is that “God in His love and for His love’s sake is present to everything and everywhere.”

[3] Cf. Barth, Church Dogmatics 2.1:282-83, where he defines the fact that God is the one “who gives everything life and breath” by saying, “in loving us God has given and gives Himself to us, and gives Himself fully, since this loving is His own being and essence.”

[4] Paul is quoting the 6^th century BCE poet Epimenides of Crete. On the presence of God in creation, cf. Barth, Church Dogmatics 2.1:476: “there is no absence of God in His creation. There are in it many forms of the remoteness and nearness of God, and of His coming and going in the full reality of all that is denoted by these terms. There is a presence of God in wrath and a presence in grace. There is a presence in His hiddenness and a presence in His revelation. And in all these are the most diverse gradations. But there is no non-presence of God in His creation.”

[5] Dallas Willard, The Divine Conspiracy, 61, 78, 90; cf. also Moltmann, Trinity, 104; Moltmann, God in Creation, 5, 96.

[6] Matthew 5:45; 6:26-30; 10:19; Ps 145:9, 15-16. Cf. also Jürgen Moltmann, God in Creation, 9-17, 98.

[7] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann’s concept of God’s “interpenetration” of all creation; see Trinity and the Kingdom, 39, 104-5. See also Moltmann, God in Creation, 9; Jürgen Moltmann, The Spirit of Life, 161.

[8] Cf. Jn. 14:23: “Those who love me will keep my word, and my Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them.” On this, see George R. Beasley-Murray, John, 258; and Barth, Church Dogmatics 4.3:543.

[9] Cf. Ps. 139. Other Scriptures assure us that God is never farther away from us than a father teaching a toddler to walk (Hosea 11:3), or a mother gently nursing an infant (Isaiah 49:15).

[10] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, Sun of Righteousness, Arise!: God’s Future for Humanity and the Earth, 102: “It is not just for us that it is important to experience the nearness of God in what happens to us. It is important for God too, for he wants to live among us and on this earth for ever and ever.”

The Waking Dreamer