The ministry of Paul and Barnabas in Iconium and Lystra is a model of how to live the Christian faith in a fickle and hostile environment:
"Now at Iconium they entered together into the Jewish synagogue and spoke in such a way that a great number of both Jews and Greeks believed. But the unbelieving Jews stirred up the Gentiles and poisoned their minds against the brothers. So they remained for a long time, speaking boldly for the Lord, who bore witness to the word of his grace, granting signs and wonders to be done by their hands." (14:1-3)
When they meet with opposition to their message, Paul and Barnabas do not back down. On the contrary, it is precisely this opposition that prompts them to speak the more boldly. But, "When an attempt was made ... to mistreat them and to stone them, they learned of it and fled to Lystra and Derbe ... and there they continued to preach the gospel" (14:5-7).
Like Paul and Barnabas, we too must be prudent. Though any of us might be called to martyrdom, we need not recklessly endanger our lives.
Their stop in Lystra seems, to me, reminiscent of Christ's final week in Jerusalem. Initially Paul and Barnabas are worshiped as gods, but some disgruntled Jews turn the crowds against them, and Paul is stoned and left for dead.
But the very next day he is up and traveling to preach in a new city. And when they return to Antioch in Syria and gather with the church there, Paul and Barnabas do not dwell on their trials; rather, "they declared all that God had done with them, and how he had opened a door of faith to the Gentiles" (14:27).
(Image: Nicolaes Pietersz. Berchem, "Paul and Barnabas at Lystra," 1650)
Monday, March 15, 2010
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Acts 13: Christ, the goal of history
Paul's sermon in Antioch in Pisidia sweeps through the history of God's dealings with his people, from the time of Israel in Egypt and on through King David: "Of this man's offspring," Paul says, "God has brought to Israel a Savior, Jesus, as he promised" (13:22-23).
The point is clear: All of history had been leading up to and pointing toward the incarnation, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. Now, to some people, the idea that God would -- or could -- have shaped history like that probably seems ridiculous. But why? People speak loosely as if nature had some purpose in evolution; no one thinks twice in talking about human progress. And of course progress must be progress toward something, some goal. So if nature and humanity can work toward goals, why not God?
Want proof? Look at the prophecies, Paul says -- indeed, at the whole of the Hebrew Scriptures. It's all about Jesus. The great King David himself was just a pale foreshadowing:
"For David, after he had served the purpose of God in his own generation, fell asleep and was laid with his fathers and saw corruption, but he whom God raised up did not see corruption. Let it be known to you therefore, brothers, that through this man forgiveness of sins is proclaimed to you, and by him everyone who believes is freed from everything from which you could not be freed by the law of Moses." (13:36-39)
We must respond to this proclamation not as "scoffers" (13:41), but like those who hear the word and beg for more (13:42).
(Image: Engrand Le Prince, Jesse Tree window in Church of Saint-Etienne in Beauvais, France, 1522-1524)
The point is clear: All of history had been leading up to and pointing toward the incarnation, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. Now, to some people, the idea that God would -- or could -- have shaped history like that probably seems ridiculous. But why? People speak loosely as if nature had some purpose in evolution; no one thinks twice in talking about human progress. And of course progress must be progress toward something, some goal. So if nature and humanity can work toward goals, why not God?
Want proof? Look at the prophecies, Paul says -- indeed, at the whole of the Hebrew Scriptures. It's all about Jesus. The great King David himself was just a pale foreshadowing:
"For David, after he had served the purpose of God in his own generation, fell asleep and was laid with his fathers and saw corruption, but he whom God raised up did not see corruption. Let it be known to you therefore, brothers, that through this man forgiveness of sins is proclaimed to you, and by him everyone who believes is freed from everything from which you could not be freed by the law of Moses." (13:36-39)
We must respond to this proclamation not as "scoffers" (13:41), but like those who hear the word and beg for more (13:42).
(Image: Engrand Le Prince, Jesse Tree window in Church of Saint-Etienne in Beauvais, France, 1522-1524)
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Acts
Acts 12: Hallucinations don't set you free
So Herod cuts off James' head, the people love it, and he thinks, "Hey, not bad -- let's try some more." So he throws Peter in prison and waits for a good time to kill him, too. But "earnest prayer for him was made to God by the church" (12:5), and God is not deaf to their pleas -- Peter still has work to do.
Now, Peter is under pretty tight security -- "sleeping between two soldiers, bound with two chains, and sentries before the door were guarding the prison" (12:6) -- which makes what happens next all the more miraculous: An angel shows up, Peter's chains fall off, and they mosey on out of there in the middle of the night.
Peter initially takes the view that many modern people take toward all alleged miracles, like the Resurrection -- that there must be some natural explanation, he must be hallucinating: "He did not know that what was being done by the angel was real, but thought he was seeing a vision" (12:9).
But mere hallucinations don't set you free from very real prisons:
"When they had passed the first and the second guard, they came to the iron gate leading into the city. It opened for them of its own accord, and they went out and went along one street, and immediately the angel left him. When Peter came to himself, he said, 'Now I am sure that the Lord has sent his angel and rescued me from the hand of Herod.'" (12:10-11)
(Image: Gustave Dore, "St. Peter Delivered from Prison," 19th century)
Now, Peter is under pretty tight security -- "sleeping between two soldiers, bound with two chains, and sentries before the door were guarding the prison" (12:6) -- which makes what happens next all the more miraculous: An angel shows up, Peter's chains fall off, and they mosey on out of there in the middle of the night.
Peter initially takes the view that many modern people take toward all alleged miracles, like the Resurrection -- that there must be some natural explanation, he must be hallucinating: "He did not know that what was being done by the angel was real, but thought he was seeing a vision" (12:9).
But mere hallucinations don't set you free from very real prisons:
"When they had passed the first and the second guard, they came to the iron gate leading into the city. It opened for them of its own accord, and they went out and went along one street, and immediately the angel left him. When Peter came to himself, he said, 'Now I am sure that the Lord has sent his angel and rescued me from the hand of Herod.'" (12:10-11)
(Image: Gustave Dore, "St. Peter Delivered from Prison," 19th century)
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Acts
Acts 11: There's always more
So the church at Antioch is booming, and Barnabas is sent from Jerusalem to check it out:
"When he came and saw the grace of God, he was glad, and he exhorted them all to remain faithful to the Lord with steadfast purpose, for he was a good man, full of the Holy Spirit and of faith. And a great many people were added to the Lord. So Barnabas went to Tarsus to look for Saul, and when he had found him, he brought him to Antioch. For a whole year they met with the church and taught a great many people. And in Antioch the disciples were first called Christians." (11:23-26)
I'm struck particularly by one sentence: "For a whole year they met with the church and taught a great many people."
I can be a rather impatient person. If I can't master something in about 30 seconds, I'm prone to give up. So I appreciate the reminder that, even if your teacher is St. Paul himself, it can take a while to grasp the Gospel. The Christian faith is in its essence mysterious -- you're never going to "get it." There's always more.
As Chesterton wrote in the final chapter of "Orthodoxy": "the Christian Church in its practical relation to my soul is a living teacher, not a dead one. It not only certainly taught me yesterday, but will almost certainly teach me to-morrow. Once I saw suddenly the meaning of the shape of the cross; some day I may see suddenly the meaning of the shape of the mitre. One fine morning I saw why windows were pointed; some fine morning I may see why priests were shaven."
There will always be more to learn, to reach for, to wonder and marvel at. That's one of the great joys of the faith.
(Image: El Greco, "St. Paul," c. 1608-1614)
"When he came and saw the grace of God, he was glad, and he exhorted them all to remain faithful to the Lord with steadfast purpose, for he was a good man, full of the Holy Spirit and of faith. And a great many people were added to the Lord. So Barnabas went to Tarsus to look for Saul, and when he had found him, he brought him to Antioch. For a whole year they met with the church and taught a great many people. And in Antioch the disciples were first called Christians." (11:23-26)
I'm struck particularly by one sentence: "For a whole year they met with the church and taught a great many people."
I can be a rather impatient person. If I can't master something in about 30 seconds, I'm prone to give up. So I appreciate the reminder that, even if your teacher is St. Paul himself, it can take a while to grasp the Gospel. The Christian faith is in its essence mysterious -- you're never going to "get it." There's always more.
As Chesterton wrote in the final chapter of "Orthodoxy": "the Christian Church in its practical relation to my soul is a living teacher, not a dead one. It not only certainly taught me yesterday, but will almost certainly teach me to-morrow. Once I saw suddenly the meaning of the shape of the cross; some day I may see suddenly the meaning of the shape of the mitre. One fine morning I saw why windows were pointed; some fine morning I may see why priests were shaven."
There will always be more to learn, to reach for, to wonder and marvel at. That's one of the great joys of the faith.
(Image: El Greco, "St. Paul," c. 1608-1614)
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Acts
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