Saved From What?

Based on Acts 16:16-34

    “What must I do to be saved?” This question asked by the jailer as he falls to his knees trembling before Paul is one of the big questions asked through the book of Acts and down through the ages. Isn’t this what the Christian faith is all about, to be saved? We say that Jesus is our lord and savior. People have said that the church is in the salvation business.

But there is a follow up question we may want to ask, “Saved from what?” Are we saved from hell? From death? From the consequences of our sins? That’s part of it. Salvation does have something to do with what happens to us after we die. This season of Easter we are in is all about celebrating the resurrection of Jesus and the promise that we too will experience resurrection and enjoy eternal life. But is salvation only about what happens after we die? The story we heard this morning helps us understand what we are being saved from. We will see that salvation is something we can experience while we are still living in this world.

The story begins with exploitation, prejudice, mob justice, and false imprisonment. These are life experiences that are all too common in our own day. Human nature has not changed over the centuries, only the means and methods. As the story proceeds, we see a shift. In the back end of the story we hear of freedom, hospitality, and celebration. We experience this as well. Which kind of life do you prefer? Is it a life of exploitation, prejudice and mob justice? Or is it freedom, hospitality, and celebration? That’s a rhetorical question. And yet, for some reason, we continue to experience plenty of the first kind and not enough of the other. I wonder why? I wonder if the answer to this perplexing question comes when we consider what it means to be saved? Let’s look closer at this story and see what we find.

There was an enslaved woman who had a spirit of divination. For a price, people who are desperate for answers would come to her and receive a prophecy revealing to them what will happen in the future. This spirit has a name by the way. In the Greek we read that the woman was possessed of a pneuma pythona, a spirit snake. This may be a reference to the famous Delphic oracle, a place where people could go to hear their fortune, that had been guarded by a python that the god Apollo killed. In Greek myth, the snake was a source of wisdom and insight. Regardless, the main point here is that she had this spirit and was being exploited by her owners who would take the money people paid to receive their fortunes from her.

The woman starts tagging along with Paul and Silas as they make their way through the town. She follows them for days. As Paul and Silas try to engage people in conversation the woman keeps telling them that Paul and Silas are slaves of the most high God who offer a way of salvation. When she says the most high God, is she referring to Zeus? Probably. She says they offer a way of salvation. Saved from what? Does she even know?

The thing that gets me though is that Paul puts up with her for days until, annoyed, Paul has enough and casts the snake spirit out of her in the name of Jesus. This act proves the truth of what the woman has been saying about Paul. She has been saved from possession of this spirit. But why didn’t Paul cast that spirit out sooner? The only reason he does it is because he is annoyed. Not exactly the greatest motivation. Nevertheless, she is freed from this spirit.

Not only has she been delivered of the spirit, now she has no benefit to her owners. They can no longer exploit her. What’s the point of keeping her? I wish we knew what happened next. Did they just let her go? Was she no longer a slave? We can only guess. But maybe she was set free not only of the spirit but also of her servitude. At least she isn’t being exploited anymore. Is this also being saved?

The exploiters though are not happy about this turn of events. They grab Paul and Silas and drag them to the agora, the marketplace, where the magistrates are. But look what they do. They don’t accuse Paul of making their slave useless. Instead, they intentionally rile up the crowd by accusing them of being Jews, which they are, and also saying that they teach customs not proper for Roman citizens to perform. In other words, Paul and Silas are outsiders, foreigners, who are undermining the culture, the moral order. It’s nothing but base anti-Semitism, raw ethnic supremacy and bigotry. And the crowd turns into a mob.

Caught up in the mob mentality the magistrates strip Paul and Silas and severely beat them with rods. Beaten and bloodied they are then thrown into prison. Not once are they given an opportunity to speak for themselves. They have been dehumanized, demeaned, victims of injustice and Roman supremacy. And the crowd probably laughed at them and thought to themselves that those Jews deserved it. They shouldn’t be here anyway. They should go back to wherever they came from. They don’t belong here. Sound familiar?

But here is the turning point of the story. In that prison cell, chained to the floor, beaten and broken, in the darkest hour of the night, Paul and Silas are praying and singing while the rest of the prisoners listen in. No moaning. No cursing. They pray and sing. What a powerful witness! They do not let their circumstances break their spirit. They maintain their dignity. They know that in that moment they cannot plead their case. They cannot get out of the jail cell. There’s not much they can do. But they can pray. And they can sing. In the darkest hour of our lives, when we find ourselves in situations where little of anything is in our control, we can pray and we can sing.

This was a source of comfort for me this past week after the massacre in Texas. I’m sure this broke the hearts of all of us. It filled me with sorrow. But also anger that these keep happening. And then the feeling of despair that nothing will change, that the rest of the world will look on at our country baffled that we are incapable of preventing these massacres. I felt hopeless. But then I was reminded that there are things I can do, that all of us can do, when our hearts are broken and we feel hopeless that anything will get better. We can pray. I know the phrase “thoughts and prayers” is getting old. But prayer is no small thing. And we can sing. Or we can listen to others sing. Music has the power to heal. Music can lift our hearts and give us strength. In these difficult days, when so much is wrong, we can pray and we can sing. And others are watching us as we grieve and navigate through these hard times.

Then the earthquake. Was it divine intervention? Maybe. In previous jail breaks an angel appears to release the chains and open the jail doors. But this time it is an earthquake, which was a common occurrence in those days. Divine intervention or natural occurrence? It is uncertain.

But the jailer is certain that the prisoners have taken the opportunity to run away. Why wouldn’t they? It’s common sense to run away. He immediately despairs and prepares to fall on his sword, to get it over with quickly rather than face the torture and death that would await him from the hand of an unforgiving magistrate. But Paul, with compassion toward the jailer, calls out to him so he doesn’t fall on his sword. What amazing grace! What a witness. The one who has been beaten and broken prays and sings and cares for the jailer. Paul and Silas are opposite of how most people would act in those days, and in these days. Their dignity, their integrity, their grace and compassion is incredible. It is undeniable. They are different. They are not like everyone else.

And the jailer runs to them, falls to his knees and trembling asks the question, “What must I do to be saved?” Saved from what? From hell? I don’t think that’s what the jailer was thinking about. What did he want saved from? Maybe he wanted to be delivered from living in a society where people were exploited, where bigotry led to mob violence, where people could be unjustly beaten and thrown into jail while everyone else laughed at them. He wanted to be set free from a society that is dehumanizing, violent, cruel and unjust. He wanted saved from that.

Paul tells him to believe on the Lord Jesus and he will be saved along with his household. To believe in the Lord Jesus was to no longer believe in the Lord Caesar and all that Caesar represents, a society of exploitation, ethnic superiority and brute force. Instead, he was to believe in the Lord Jesus, who represents a society of dignity for all people, integrity, compassion, and grace, which Paul and Silas demonstrated in that prison cell. By believing in Jesus as your lord, this changes the way you live.

And look what happens. The jailer who is an agent of that corrupt system of mob justice, washes the wounds of Paul and Silas. Just sit with that image. Can you picture it? An incredible act of compassion this jailer shows. See how quickly he has been converted, from just doing his job, to almost killing himself, to now washing their wounds. Amazing. And then Paul and Silas baptized the whole family, ritually bringing them in to a new society, a new way of living together. And then to top it off, food is brought out, they all gather around the table, no one is left out, and they eat and celebrate together, Jews and Greeks, slaves and free, women and men as they celebrate that the jailer had come to belief in God. Salvation.

Saved from what? We have seen in this story that salvation has to do with freedom, compassion, grace, hospitality, and celebration. Peter tells us in Acts 2:40 what we are to be saved from: “Save yourselves from this corrupt generation.” The corruption Peter was referring to was exploitation of others, prejudice, mob rule, cruel violence at the hands of state authority. We need saved from this corrupt generation, where there is exploitation of the vulnerable, ethnic superiority, cruelty, violence, where a young man can impulse buy an assault weapon and hundreds of rounds of ammo but can’t buy a beer or rent a car and the proposed solution is to arm teachers and make our schools like prisons. We need saved from this corrupt generation.

So, we believe in our Lord Jesus. We follow his way of life. We live under the reign of God. When times are hard, we pray and sing. We live in our freedom and in our dignity. We are merciful. We are compassionate. We aim to heal and not kill, to be merciful and not judgmental, to unite and not divide, to be hospitable, to make room for everyone at the table, and to celebrate life. And what I have come to realize is that when you and I live this way, with open heartedness, with freedom, with dignity and integrity, that people are watching. And sometimes they will approach you and say, maybe even with a little tremble in their voice, “What must I do to be saved?”

Doing Life Together

Based on Acts 9:36-43

Mother’s Day is a tricky day to celebrate. For those of us who are mothers or whose mothers are still alive and we have a relationship with, then this is a nice day to be appreciated or to appreciate. It’s nice to have a day where your children let you know how much they appreciate you. And it is a nice prompt for us to let our moms know how much we appreciate them.

The tricky part is if you are not a mother. Or your mother is no longer alive. Or you don’t have a relationship with your mother. If this is your situation, then Mother’s Day can bring up some difficult emotions, maybe some grief, some bitterness, a feeling of being left out. It’s the same with Father’s Day next month. These days of appreciating moms or dads are nice for those who are moms and dads. But not for everyone. It is important to be sensitive to this reality, that Mother’s Day does not bring warm and positive feelings to everybody. Mother’s Day for many people is bittersweet.

Today we hear about a woman who was being honored, but it was bittersweet. Tabitha was deeply loved by the community. We learn that she was known for her many good works. She was a pillar in the community. When there were needs in the community, people looked to Tabitha. She was always giving of herself. Apparently, she especially used her talent for clothes making, having made garments for the widows who were in the community. But Tabitha fell ill and passed away. The community was shaken. Everyone felt the loss.

I want to say a quick word about widows. In those days in the Christian community widows had a special calling all their own. Actually, this was the case among Jews, not just Christians, who had been instructed by God of the need for the community to care for widows and orphans. I Timothy 5 gives us some insight on the special place that widows had in the community. They are to be supported by the community and in return widows are to pray continually for their community. I suspect that the widows had been praying hard for Tabitha who perhaps was a widow herself, we don’t know for sure. We can imagine that as Tabitha was drawing her last breath, she was surrounded by these widows as they prayed for her healing.

Having heard that Peter was in a nearby town, two men were sent to him to ask him to come right away with them so that he could see Tabitha. Did Peter know who Tabitha was? Maybe. Did they want Peter to hurry to see Tabitha because they wanted him to maybe perform a miracle? If that was their motivation, they kept it to themselves. If we take the story at face value, this was a situation where a pillar of the community had died and it is appropriate for Peter to come and see, to simply be present and share in the grief of the community.

By the way, there are a couple other details in this story that stresses how special Tabitha is. For one, she is known by two names, Tabitha, which is Aramaic, and Dorcas, which is Greek, a word that means “Gazelle.” Only a few other people in the New Testament had two names: Peter who is also known as Simon, John who is also known as Mark, and Saul who is also known as Paul. But here is the kicker. Tabitha is the only woman in the New Testament who is explicitly identified as a disciple. Her status is high. It was right for Peter to come quickly to see Tabitha before she was placed in a tomb.

That was at least one of the reasons why they wanted Peter to come quickly. The clock was ticking. They had washed her body and laid her out on a bed in the upper room. But she had not yet been anointed or had her body wrapped and prepared for burial. This was a narrow window of time where people could see her body, to see her face, before they had to place the body in a tomb. If Peter was going to have an opportunity to see Tabitha it had to be now. So, Peter goes with the men, and they hurry to Joppa to see Tabitha.

Can you picture the scene? Peter is led to the upper room where Tabitha’s body is laid out. The widows are still gathered around the body. They show Peter the clothes they are wearing that Tabitha had made for them, surely clothes that were made with love for each one of those women. A part of Tabitha was woven into those garments. How precious those clothes must have been for those widows, so much so that they wanted Peter to see them. It must have been an emotionally charged moment.

Perhaps this scene brought to mind an experience that Peter had with Jesus. A father’s girl was dying, and he rushed to Jesus pleading for him to come to his house and heal his daughter. But before they got to the house, the father received the word that his daughter had died. But that didn’t stop Jesus. They went on to the house filled with the sounds of weeping and moaning. Jesus sends everyone out of the room where the girl was except for the parents, Peter, James, and John. They got to see Jesus bring the girl back to life. Bringing this experience to his mind, Peter ushers the widows out of the room, closes the door, and falls on his knees praying that through the power of the Holy Spirit Jesus might bring Tabitha back to life.

While the widows and the other disciples were gathered on the other side of that door wondering what was going on inside that room, suddenly, Peter opens the door holding the hand of Tabitha who was standing beside him. The grief and sorrow are instantly turned into joy. And many people in the community came to belief in Jesus, the one whom Tabitha had been a faithful follower, the one who had given her life purpose to love this community. It’s a happy ending. The whole community is filled with celebration. They will have more time with Tabitha.

But we don’t always get those happy endings. We are happy for Tabitha and her community. Good for Tabitha. She will get to live some more years until she dies a second time. But we have not had that experience. For those of us who have lost our mothers to death, we didn’t get more time. Especially for those of us who have lost someone they love recently; this story is bittersweet. We can be happy for Tabitha and her community but there is a pang in our hearts and maybe even a little bitterness. Why did Tabitha get to have more life but not my mother? It almost feels a little unfair. I wonder if there were those in the community who, although were celebrating and happy that Tabitha was alive again, also had a tinge of longing that this could have happened to the one they loved. Even in that moment of celebration, for some, it may have been a little bittersweet.

What stands out to me most in this story though is how the whole community was engaged. They participated in the grief as well as the rejoicing after Tabitha was brought back to life. Tabitha had given all she had for the community through her love and good works. She provided beautiful garments for the widows. The widows were gathered around her when she died. When people heard that Peter was over in Lydda, two men went right away to find Peter and tell him he needed to come. When Jesus, not Peter, restored Tabitha’s life, Peter brought her out before the community so they could see for themselves. The whole community rejoiced. Many came to belief in Jesus because of this event. The only thing that happened in this story that didn’t involve the community was when Peter kicked everyone out of the room, so it was him alone with a lifeless body and the presence of the Holy Spirit. Other than that, this was a communal experience.

This is where I think we can draw inspiration from this story. It is highly unlikely that any of us will experience someone we love being dead for several hours and then through prayer be brought back to life. But this story reminds us that life is done in community. When someone dies, it affects all of us. We can be assured that the good works we do in this life are appreciated by the people we touch, that we can and do make a positive difference in the lives of others. It is a good thing to celebrate, honor people, and grieve together as a community. Attending public celebrations, public events that honor people, pubic prayer vigils where the community can grieve together, this is where the experience of life is enriched. It was our journey through the pandemic when we were reminded how much we need to be gathered. It is good for us to be together. Whether we are all feeling joyful, or feeling sad, or a combination of both, we are meant to do life as a community. Life is so much better that way.

Come to Jesus Moments

Based on Acts 9:1-6

Any way you cut it, Saul was a hothead. He had no tolerance for fellow Jews who had fallen for the line the followers of Jesus were saying, that God had raised Jesus from the dead and that there is forgiveness of sins in his name. Absolute blasphemy. The miraculous signs, the growing popularity, had no impression on Saul. As we read in Acts 9:1, Saul is storming through Jerusalem breathing curses and murder against the disciples of Jesus, going straight to the high priest to get his blessing to go all the way up to Damascus, a 135 mile journey, just to find more followers of Jesus to bind and bring back to Jerusalem for punishment. Saul was not playing. He was determined to do everything in his power to rid the world of followers of the so called Way.

I don’t think any of us can relate to Saul’s level of disdain for any group of people. But, if we are honest, there are times in our lives when we may have breathed a curse or two at certain people or groups of people we didn’t agree with. As a matter of fact, for a long time now, if you turn on talk radio or watch the political shows on TV you hear a good deal of cursing at those people on the other side of the political or cultural divide. We may have had some thoughts about people with different political or religious views among friends that we may not have said in public. We aren’t hotheads like Saul. But we do know what it is like to have at least a degree of disdain toward people or groups of people that we don’t like. Biases, prejudices, ignorance, we all have at least a little bit of that in us. It’s just that for Saul, he had an extra helping and it was driving him at a dangerous level. Actually, it was a little scary.

Saul was acting out from his bias, prejudice and ignorance in a very aggressive and public way. That’s not the case for most of us. For the rest of us, our bias is not obvious to us, our prejudice unexamined, our ignorance unaware of. It is so easy for us to make assumptions about people, stereotype, pre-judge and then hold those assumptions to be true when they aren’t. Here’s an example. People often assume and stereotype that people who are homeless are likely abusing substances and/or mentally ill. But people become homeless all the time due to unfortunate life events that has nothing to do with their mental health or drug use. But when people assume that those who are homeless are mentally ill or substance abusers, then this tends to cause us to have less sympathy for their plight. We say, “why don’t they just get a job.” When society looks at people who are homeless as those who are somehow at fault for their predicament, that helps maintain a society that can be incredibly harsh and even dangerous for folks who have found themselves pushed to the margins due to a series of unfortunate events.

Back to Saul. As he and whatever group of toughs he has pulled together are making their way along the great North road toward Damascus, all of a sudden Saul sees the light. He is blinded by the light, even. He hears a voice calling his name and asking him why Saul is persecuting him. All of a sudden, Saul is having a “come to Jesus” moment. The truth of what he is doing out of his bias, prejudice and ignorance is being thrown at him with that simple question. And all Saul knows to do in his confusion is to ask, “Who are you, lord?” And then Jesus lays the hammer down by saying, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting.” There it is. Saul is confronted with the truth. Jesus is not dead after all. He is alive and talking to Saul right there in the middle of the road. Right there and then Saul is being confronted with his bias, prejudice and ignorance. The whole foundation of his persecution of the followers of Jesus was their talking about Jesus having been raised. Lo and behold, he was.

We all have “come to Jesus” moments in our lives. Someone confronts us with a perspective, some new information, some truth telling, that shines a light on our unknown bias, prejudice and ignorance. We see the light. I told you the story a few weeks ago about the politician who ran into an old friend who was living in a homeless shelter. In that encounter, the politician saw the light and realized that not everyone who ends up homeless are receiving the consequences of poor moral choices. When have there been times in your life when your views about someone or a group of people shifted when you had an encounter that enabled you to see them in a new light? You weren’t struck blind like Saul was. But the assumptions you once held are revealed to have been wrong. And you are left confused and disoriented. I used to have certain assumptions and prejudices toward gay people until I became friends with people who are gay. Same thing toward people of color until I became friends with people of color. Same thing toward people who practiced a religion other than Christianity until I became friends with people who practice other religions. It has been my experience that the assumptions we carry with us as we walk through life can get upended when we come face to face with the people we hold those assumptions about.

Now this, to me, is the most amazing part of the story of Saul’s Damascus road experience. Here he is, blinded by the light. Jesus has named the truth, that Saul has been persecuting him. And the next thing Jesus says is to give Saul directions on where he needs to go and what he needs to do. Jesus says, “Get up and keep walking to Damascus, and when you get there you will be told what to do next.” No scolding. No shaming. No demand for an apology. Jesus skips all that and just tells Saul what he needs to do now. I just find that amazing. It’s as if Jesus doesn’t have time to lay a guilt trip on Saul or make sure he feels bad about what he has done. Jesus has a job for Saul to do. Jesus is focused on the mission. Stuff needs done.

This is helpful for us. When we come to those moments in life where realize that our assumptions were wrong, we can feel guilty about that. Especially when racial bias and prejudice is revealed to us as white people, we can feel that guilt and maybe even feel ashamed of ourselves. That guilt and shame can then have the effect of freezing us. It can become overwhelming. And sometimes in order to deal with the pain of guilt people can become overly sensitive, even fragile, so that anyone who even suggests there is racism in our society has to be shut down or silenced. People will say, “I don’t see color” or, “Why do you have to make everything about race,” in order to avoid being confronted with the lived experience of people who have been on the receiving end of racial bias.

But here’s the thing. Burdening ourselves with guilt or shame is not helpful. And it’s not what Jesus is about. Look again at what happened to Saul. Jesus confronted Saul with the truth, that he had been persecuting Jesus. How? By seeing to it that his followers were arrested, beaten, and hopefully stoned or crucified. People had lost their lives because of Saul. He was a dangerous man. But Jesus tells Saul the truth about what he did and then he tells Saul to keep walking to Damascus because he has work for him to do. No scolding. No shaming. Because there is work to do. What does this teach us about how we can respond when we are confronted with the truth about ourselves, about our biases, prejudices, and ignorance?

We have opportunities to find out. Come to Jesus moments happen throughout our lives. Out of nowhere, we can get blindsided with the truth of something that reveals our bias, prejudice and ignorance. I have to believe that when Saul realized what he did, that he felt a lot of remorse, guilt and maybe a good deal of shame. In fact, Paul would say that he is the least of all the apostles because he persecuted the church. He probably truly believed that. But Jesus had a mission for Paul. He had work to do. It is normal for us to feel bad when we come to realize that what we held to be true wasn’t true. We can acknowledge that we have been humbled. And we have to keep going, keep living our lives, but with a different perspective. Saul was still going to Damascus. But for completely different reasons. In fact, he didn’t even know what he was going to do when he got there. He was going to have to wait for Jesus to tell him. That’s true for us as well. When our perspective changes, we have to keep moving forward with our lives, but for different reasons, and wait for Jesus to have someone tell us what to do next.

We are Witnesses of These Things

Based on Acts 5:27-32

“Do you swear or affirm to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?” That’s the oath a person takes as they enter the witness stand during a trial. Telling the truth as a witness is critical to the trial process. All the witness has to do is to share what they know. A credible witness is one who is truthful and honest about what they saw or heard. They don’t have to make stuff up. They don’t have to explain or give reasons for what happened. No speculation. This is not a debate or trying to win an argument. Not an attempt to impress people with your rhetorical skills. All a witness has to do is tell us what they experienced.

Witnesses are critical in trials. We need witnesses to solve crimes. Witnesses can help track down suspects. Witnesses can say what happened when there is a vehicle collision. For those who weren’t there, and there are no cameras around, witnesses may be the only source of information so that we can know what happened. With no witnesses, we can never know for sure what took place.

There’s the old saying, “You can’t unsee things.” Sometimes we wish we could, right? But no. What we see is burned into our brains. Especially when we experience something significant, it’s going to stay with us. We might re-experience it in our dreams. Images might pop up in our heads at random times through the day. We can choose not to talk about what we saw or heard. We can try to forget about it or deny to others that it happened. But we can’t just get rid of the experience. Anything short of amnesia prevents us from unseeing what we saw. What we saw and heard really happened. It wasn’t a dream. It was a real experience.

Yes, things may not be as they appear. Magicians and con artists are great at deception. Illusions can fool us. What is scary is the increasing sophistication of deep fakes in which videos are manipulated to appear that someone is saying something when the real person didn’t say it. Apparently, a deep fake video was circulating in which it appears that the leader of Ukraine was giving a speech suggesting that the nation should surrender to Russian forces. Those who watched that video saw a fabrication. Just because we see or hear things does not mean it is true. I hate to break it to you, but just because you saw something on the internet or heard your favorite podcaster give a hot take on some subject does not mean it’s true.

But when you watch a crime being committed, or you see the auto collision, that makes you a witness to a true event. When a maniac opens fire in a grocery store or a delivery van suddenly explodes, you may not want to believe your eyes. But you just saw something that really did happen. This makes your testimony critical so that those who were not there can find out what actually happened. This is especially important these days when people who weren’t even at the crime scene can go on Twitter or the Citizen app and just make up stuff. Eyewitness accounts are necessary so that the truth can be known. And those who are eyewitnesses need to give their account of what happened. If they don’t, then the rest of us won’t know what really took place.

What happens though when there are people who don’t want you to talk? Here’s another old saying, “snitches get stiches.” The potential for harm to come your way if you come forward with your testimony is real. And it frustrates law enforcement to no end. A young man is shot and killed in broad daylight on a city street and nobody saw nothing. Or maybe you saw or heard something that is embarrassing or scandalous and could hurt the reputation of someone in the public eye. Here comes the hush money. People will use different methods to get witnesses to stay silent or to publicly deny what they saw to protect other people. Sometimes people in positions of power don’t want the truth to get out.

This is the situation that is happening with Peter and the disciples when they are brought before the religious council. Ever since the day of Pentecost, when the Spirit descended on the disciples, they have been out in the streets telling people about Jesus, that he died for our sins, that God raised him from the dead, and that through Jesus there is forgiveness of sins. The religious leaders weren’t having it. What the disciples were teaching was inconvenient for the religious leaders. They were the arbiters of the sacrificial system through which forgiveness of sins was made possible. A system, by the way, that was established by God through Moses. What the disciples were teaching was disturbing the status quo. They were undermining a system that God had established and that had served the people Israel for many generations. It should be no surprise that the leaders who are charged with maintaining this divinely appointed system would tell the disciples to stop teaching in the name of Jesus. But the disciples would not be silenced.

The high priest says to Peter, “You are trying to put the blood of this man on our hands.” Why did he say this? Seems the people are starting to look favorably on Jesus. It is putting the religious leaders in a bad light. They don’t like being pegged as culpable in Jesus’ crucifixion. But it wasn’t a lie. The truth is that the religious leaders were the ones who insisted that Pilate have Jesus crucified. Jesus’ blood was on their hands. And it was on Pilate’s hands as well in spite of him publicly washing his hands of the whole affair. Pilate didn’t have to give in to the leaders and the crowd they had juiced up to call for Jesus’ crucifixion. They were all culpable.

Peter’s response names the reality of the situation. He and the disciples aren’t seeking to undermine the authority of the religious leaders. They aren’t trying to bring the leaders down so that the disciples could be in charge instead. They were not trying to embarrass anybody. What does Peter say? “We are witnesses.” Witnesses of what? Witnesses of the resurrection. They saw Jesus with their own eyes. They heard his voice. They touched his body. They couldn’t unsee the fact that the one who was crucified was raised, not on his own power, but that God had raised Jesus. The God of their ancestors had done this. The God of Moses, the God who had established a sacrificial system for the purpose of cleansing the people of their sins, it was this God that had raised Jesus from the dead. They were witnesses of these things. What else are they supposed to do? Witnesses bear witness so that others who did not see what happened can come to know what took place. What Peter and the rest were saying may be inconvenient or even threatening to the authority of the religious leaders. But they were eyewitnesses. They would not remain silent. They had to testify to what God had done.

And it wasn’t just them. Peter says that the Holy Spirit was also a witness. Do you see it? In vs. 32, Peter says, “And we are witnesses to these things, and so is the Holy Spirit.” The very Spirit of God is bearing witness to what the disciples are saying. They aren’t on their own. They aren’t just making this stuff up. This isn’t an illusion. The Spirit of God is also testifying to the same things. If the Spirit is bearing witness, the disciples are in good company. It is for these reasons that Peter says that he has to obey God instead of any other human authority. They have to bear witness. Indeed they can’t help it. The Spirit of God is within them, giving them courage, giving them the words to say, empowering them, speaking through them, to share what they saw and heard. They must bear witness.

We are witnesses too. We have our own experience with God to proclaim. Of course, we don’t have quite the same account as Peter and the disciples. We have not encountered Jesus like they did. But we have encountered Jesus nonetheless. The Spirit of God has revealed things to us. We have a story to tell. God wants us to tell our story. It’s not about winning a debate. It’s not about making stuff up. It’s not about knowing all the answers or having all our doctrines straight. It’s not about giving a great speech. All we are asked to do is to bear witness, to give a testimony of how we have encountered the living Christ. Let us be inspired by Peter and the disciples who accepted the responsibility as the Spirit enabled them to bear witness to what they have seen and heard. With the Spirit of God as our helper, let us tell our stories as well.

A Personal Encounter Makes the Difference

Based on Luke 24:1-12

“The Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.” Jesus said these words to his disciples. And it was pretty clear. No metaphors or parables. Jesus went down the list. He would be rejected, killed and be raised three days later. No ambiguity. Straight talk. The disciples that heard these words from Jesus were not just the twelve, by the way. There were women that accompanied them as well, including Mary Magdalene, Joanna, the wife of Herod’s steward Chuza, Susanna, and many others who provided for everyone out of their resources. They all knew. Jesus had told them ahead of time not only that he would be killed but that on the third day he would be raised. Short and sweet.

But they did not believe. Even though they followed Jesus, trusted Jesus, loved Jesus, there were some things Jesus said that went in through one ear and out of the other. They heard him but it didn’t sink in. They simply could not accept what Jesus said, that he would be killed and that after three days he would rise from the dead. It was too hard to accept.

If they had believed what Jesus said and taken his words to heart, why did the women go to the tomb as soon as they could, after the Sabbath, to anoint his body with the spices? If they believed, they should not have expected a body to be in the tomb. When the women told the disciples their experience of an empty tomb the disciples should have not been surprised. They should have expected Jesus not being in the tomb if they had believed him. Peter goes to the tomb himself, looks inside, sees for himself that Jesus was not in the tomb. And even with this evidence, he goes back home in amazement. He still does not believe. There is something that is blocking him, all of them, from accepting the reality that Jesus actually rose from the dead as he said he would. What is it? Why did they not believe what Jesus told them?

We can hear people who we trust and love say things that seem far-fetched or unbelievable and it doesn’t stick. We forget what was said. It goes in one ear and out the other. We don’t take what they say seriously. Maybe we think they are joking. We don’t really buy in to what they are saying. We hear what they say as a pipe dream, an idle tale, wishful thinking, an unlikely story, too good to be true. We can still trust and love people who say things that are unlikely or incredible. We just shrug our shoulders. Just because the disciples didn’t take what Jesus said about being killed and raised from the dead seriously, that doesn’t mean they didn’t trust him or love him. Sometimes people say crazy things. Until something happens and what they said doesn’t seem crazy anymore.

I heard a story recently from someone who has been working for decades to address the housing crisis and the struggle to get people in permanent housing. Bill does a lot of advocacy with politicians in order to push for policies that will be helpful in this effort. In his advocacy, he uses a lot of statistics, talks about real life examples of programs and policies that can make a difference in the lives of real people. He says there are solutions if we would just muster the political will to act.

There was one politician in particular that Bill was talking to. They had a good relationship. He was hearing what Bill had to say. He was nodding along. But the politician was not really sold. He didn’t have buy in. It just was not connecting. So, Bill invited him to come and see. Come to a shelter and see what services are being offered that are making a difference. The politician took up the offer and went with Bill to visit a shelter. While he was there, he saw someone in the shelter he knew. They had worked together in government many years ago. And there he was, a friend and colleague, who found himself homeless and having to stay in a shelter. Suddenly, a light clicked on in that politician. He couldn’t get past that someone he knew personally had stumbled into homelessness. He started really listening to Bill and did what he could to support Bill’s advocacy because he had a personal encounter with someone he knew who was unhoused.

The disciples had heard what Jesus said. But they didn’t really buy it. They didn’t take Jesus seriously. Even when they heard the facts from the women and saw the evidence that Jesus was no longer in the tomb, they just couldn’t get on board. It wasn’t until they had a personal encounter before the light came on and they came to belief. For the women it was their encounter with two men wearing dazzling white clothes. For Clopas and Simon joined by a stranger along the road to Emmaus, it took that moment when the stranger took bread, blessed it, broke it and gave it to them that they came to a realization that they were in the presence of Jesus. For the rest of the disciples, it wasn’t until Jesus stood before them showing his hands and his side before they came to belief. It was a personal encounter that made the difference.

I was raised in church. I learned when I was a little boy that Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so. I learned that Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world. Red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in his sight. But they were just songs to me, words I heard. I didn’t really take them to heart. I knew what Easter was about. But it was just a story. I couldn’t relate to it or understand it.

I was at a retreat with my youth group. We watched the movie “Godspell”. We would watch a section and then discuss it. This movie opened my eyes to what the gospel was about because the stories in the gospel were being told in a new, fresh way. It was like I was hearing them for the first time. There were a few times where I said to myself, “Jesus said that? Huh. I didn’t know.” Something was stirring in my heart.

And then, one evening, something happened. For the first time in my life, it dawned on me that Jesus shed his blood and died on the cross for me. It dawned on me how much God loved me and that God had a plan for my life. A light clicked on that because of Jesus I was forgiven, promised eternal life, and destined to serve God the rest of my life as an agent of love. My heart overflowed with love. Love for God and love for others. It was like scales fell off my eyes. The world looked different. The joy that welled up in my heart was not like anything I had experienced before. I was blessed to have a personal encounter with Jesus. I didn’t visibly see him. But I felt his presence. And in that moment I came to believe. I was changed. All that I had heard about Jesus started to become real to me.

What is your story? What was it like when you experienced a personal encounter with Jesus?

For those of us who have had that personal encounter with Jesus, Easter is an opportunity to remember that encounter. To remember means to bring the past into the present. We can remember that moment when we encountered the living Christ. We can remember that moment when the promise of resurrection became real for us. When we bring those encounters back to remembrance, it has been my experience that the joy that came with that encounter is stirred deep inside, welling up and expressed outward. This is the reason why Easter is my favorite day of the year. Maybe it is yours too. It is a day where the joy of knowing Jesus, of having had that encounter with Jesus, is stirred up. Bringing to remembrance that encounter with Jesus makes our hearts sing.

For those of us who have not yet had that encounter, today is an invitation to be stirred with wonder and amazement, just as Peter was when he saw the empty tomb and then went back home amazed. It didn’t make sense to him. He couldn’t connect the dots. He was amazed at what had happened. But he had not yet come to belief. Maybe that’s where you are today. That’s ok. These encounters with Jesus are not premeditated or planned. They just happen. And they happen in surprising ways, just like how Jesus appeared to Clopas and Simon on the road to Emmaus. I invite you to spend this day with the question that the two men asked the women who came to the tomb to see Jesus. Why do you seek the living among the dead? Sit with that question. Meditate on its meaning. You may be surprised what comes up for you. Who knows? Maybe this question will roll away the stone and you will find yourself having an encounter with the living Christ. Why do you seek the living among the dead?

The Moment of Decision

Based on Luke 22:39-46

Do you know that sometimes it is hard to do God’s will? I’m not talking about the challenges of loving well, especially the extreme demand to love our enemies. I’m talking about those times in life when we sense God is drawing us toward a certain life path or a course of action that goes against what we would rather do, or perhaps is asking us to sacrifice in ways we don’t want to give. Or it seems too big, unrealistic, too risky. We sense the call, and we say, “Why me, God?”

There are examples of this all through the scriptures. When Moses was called by God to go to Pharoah and demand that he let the Hebrews go, Moses comes up with all kinds of reasons why he is not the one to do this. God patiently responded to each of his excuses. Desperate, Moses pleads, “God, please, just send someone else!” When Elijah was called to anoint someone else to be king, he runs to the wilderness. He doesn’t want to do it because he fears for his life. He finally goes to a cave where he eventually hears that still, small voice that directs him to go back and anoint the one God has appointed to be king. When God called Jonah to go to Nineveh to warn them of their impending doom if they do not repent, Jonah runs the opposite direction. When Ananias was directed by the Spirit to go to Saul who had been struck blind in his encounter with Jesus, Ananias said, “Are you sure? This man persecutes the followers of Jesus. He is dangerous.” These are just a few of the times throughout scripture where people are called by God to do hard things and, rather than rushing off and doing what God has called them to do, they resist, they push back, they make excuses. It takes some time for them to process the request and move in obedience to the call God has placed on their lives.

It is almost a cliché, the story that people tell of how they sensed God calling them to devote their lives to ministry as a pastor and how they avoided that call, following other ideas of what they wanted to do in their life, or resisting the cost of letting go of a career or embracing the uncertainty of living the itinerant life. But it’s not just those who are called to ordained ministry. I know of people who felt led to change careers. Or they had to make a choice to leave home. I have had to make those decisions. Kim and I had to discern whether to stay in Oklahoma where I was raised, where I had family and colleagues and good friends, where I had been ordained as a pastor, and to leave all that behind to move to Ohio where we would be closer to Kim’s family, but I didn’t know anybody. I suppose all of you have experienced crossroads moments in your life where you had to decide and follow where you believe you were being led which meant letting go of other options, letting go of what is familiar, letting go of what is good for what is better. Yes, following God’s will is sometimes hard,

When we face these hard situations, the temptation is to do something else or to walk away. Moses made excuses. Elijah ran to the desert. Jonah ran the opposite direction from Nineveh. Instead of going to seminary, people choose to go to business school. Instead of taking that leap of faith, people stay put or, if it asks too much, give up and walk away. Or they give in to the pressure of others who advise not to do what they know they should do. When confronted with the need to do hard things, there is always the temptation to do something other than what the hard thing is. The easiest choice is to do nothing at all.

This is probably what Jesus had in mind when he led his disciples up to the Mount of Olives to pray. Later that night, Jesus would be arrested. Within a day of his arrest, he would be nailed to a cross. The hard thing was imminent. The decision to be faithful to what God had called Jesus to do had arrived. And it wasn’t just Jesus that was on the verge of enduring a hard struggle. His disciples would be experiencing profound change. The three years they had spent with Jesus was ending. Their master would soon be viewed as a criminal deserving of death. Those associated with Jesus would suddenly become suspect. They would be having to make that choice whether to publicly associate themselves with Jesus or turn their backs on him. As we know, they all turned and ran. Peter would deny publicly that he knew Jesus three times. The temptation that the disciples faced to avoid the hard will of God was immense. So, Jesus instructed his disciples to pray that last line of the prayer that he had taught them, “lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”

Going a stone’s throw away from the disciples, Jesus falls to his knees and models for us what this prayer is. He cries out, “Father, if it be your will, let this cup pass from me; yet, not what I will but your will be done.” Let’s break this simple and powerful prayer down so that we can understand what it means to ask God to lead us not into temptation and to deliver us from evil.

First, Jesus was honest about what he wanted, or rather what he didn’t want. He really did not want to go through with this. He did not want to suffer like he knew he would. He did not want the pain and brutality of that cross. He wanted some other way to fulfill the destiny God had given him to fulfill. When we are faced with those times when we sense a direction that we need to go but it is not the way we want to go, or that is scary, or will require great sacrifice, we begin our prayer by naming it before God. Cry out to God. Just like Moses did, make those excuses. Give God the reasons why God is making a mistake. Plead for another way. Tell God what you think. Let it out. Express your fear, your resistance, your desire for another way. Be honest before God.

After expressing what he wanted for himself, and his plea for God to change God’s mind, Jesus says, “Yet, not my will but yours be done.” After letting it out, expressing with honesty your desire for another way, make that commitment to God’s will. Commit to follow the direction God is leading you to follow. Say to God, “I want to obey your will. I will do what you ask of me.” Getting to that place where you can set your intention to follow God’s will no matter what makes the difference.

We read that after Jesus made his prayer, committing to be faithful to God’s purpose for him, an angel appeared to strengthen him. Jesus needed to be strengthened? Yes, as any human would when being confronted with the need to do hard things. That angel appeared after Jesus renewed his commitment to do what God had sent him to do. It reflects what happens when we express our trepidation and even grieve what we must let go to be faithful, and then set our minds to follow through with God’s will on our lives. It is from this place of recommitment that we experience strength and courage. God starts to supply what we need to move forward. We can resist, by God’s grace, the temptation to disobey God’s will on our lives, the disobedience that lies at the heart of the evil in our world.

Praying this prayer isn’t easy. Jesus himself struggled so mightily in his prayer that he broke out into a sweat like being engaged in a wrestling match. Sweat poured off Jesus’ face, big drops of sweat that like drops of blood fell to the ground. When we pray this prayer, we may find ourselves breaking out into a sweat. Or maybe it is tears that fall from our eyes. As we struggle through this prayer, a feeling of grief may even rise up. As we contemplate the cost of following God’s will, the sacrifices that will need to be made, what will need to be let go of or left behind, it stirs up grief.

The disciples were overcome with grief. As they realized that what Jesus had told them was about to pass, that he would be betrayed, arrested, beaten, mocked, and then nailed to a cross to die, what an overwhelming feeling of grief that washed over them. They had to come to terms that Jesus would be leaving them soon. Yes, he said he would rise from the dead. But things wouldn’t be the same. Everything was changing. They would fear for their lives. They would see their beloved master treated in such a degrading way. All their earlier hopes of what would happen when the messiah came was dashed. Nothing was happening like they thought it would. Disappointment. Uncertainty. Anxiety. These are hard emotions that built up in them a deep sense of grief. And the grief took over. Rather than sticking with the prayer that Jesus had invited them to do, they fell into a restless sleep. They were immobilized in their grief. Can we not relate? We sometimes get the advice before making hard decisions to sleep on it first before we say “yes.” There is probably some wisdom to that. But sleep also delays making a decision. Sleep is a way to avoid making the move. Sleep is also a salve for the pain of grief. We all know what that is like. Grief is exhausting.

What does Jesus say to the disciples? He invites them again to pray that prayer that they may not come into the time of trial. He calls them back to pray that prayer of honesty and acceptance. It was this prayer that gave Jesus the strength he needed to push forward. It is this prayer that gives us the strength we need to do the hard things that God sometimes leads us to do. This is our invitation. Thankfully, those moments of decision are rare in our lives. But when they come along, Jesus has provided us a model on how to pray our way through so that we can overcome the temptation to forsake God’s way and instead to set our intention to be faithful, no matter the cost. May the Spirit remind you of this prayer Jesus offered up on the Mount of Olives when you find yourself in the moment of decision.

The Foundation of Discipleship

Based on John 12:1-8

The time was drawing near. Jesus and his disciples have made their third and final journey to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover. What is typically one of the most joyous festivals, for Jesus and his disciples, would be a nightmare. There would be the final confrontation with the religious and political powers. There would be the lashes and the crown of thorns. There would be the mocking and the public humiliation of having an entire crowd of people turn on you and call for your execution. And then the horror of the crucifixion. All of this awaited Jesus.

But before this time of trial, suffering and violent death, Jesus and his disciples were gathered at the home of a few of Jesus’ dearest friends: Lazarus, Martha and Mary. We don’t know the backstory but somehow along the way they had become close friends. They loved each other like good friends do. He wept when he encountered Martha and Mary mourning the death of Lazarus. But Jesus called Lazarus out of the tomb. He demonstrated his power over death.

And here they are, gathered at the home of Lazarus, having dinner. The quiet before the storm. Lazarus laying with Jesus and the disciples at the dinner table. Martha is serving them as she is wont to do. And then there is Mary, the one who sat at the teacher’s feet to learn from him, the one whom Jesus had said to Martha that she had chosen the better part when Martha told Jesus to tell Mary to come help her serve. It is this Mary who, in an act of deep devotion, anoints Jesus’ feet with nard and wipes his feet with her hair, a sensuous and intimate act.

Mary is the model disciple. She sets the bar. Like I said, instead of helping Martha in the kitchen Mary chose to sit at Jesus’ feet to learn from him. Jesus said she had chosen the better action. And now Mary anoints Jesus’ feet using nard, one of the choice ointments used on corpses in preparation for burial. This was an act of devotion. But it was also an act of acceptance. Jesus had been saying for awhile that he would be going to Jerusalem to die. The disciples were confused. They weren’t sure how to make sense of it. How is it that the messiah is going to die? It went against their expectation. But Mary trusted that Jesus knew what was going to happen. She didn’t have to understand it or let her confusion or disappointment prompt her to be in a state of denial. She determined to secure a bottle of nard that she would use to anoint his body after he was crucified. And this nard was top shelf. 300 denarii is nearly one year of wages for a common laborer. We don’t know what kind of wealth Mary had access to. But surely this was a significant purchase, perhaps something she had to save up for many months rather than something she could rush to the store and go buy. It took intentionality to get something this expensive. It demonstrated her acceptance, her belief and trust, in Jesus, who is her king.

The demonstration of her love and her trust in Jesus was not subtle. She did not whisper to Jesus her acceptance of his need to die. She did not wink or give a knowing glance at this dinner. She took an action that impacted everyone. If there was already a sense of dread hanging in the air with the anticipation of Jesus’ impending doom, Mary makes it explicit by filling the room with the fragrance of what it will smell like when Jesus’ body is prepared for burial. They will smell this scent again in a few days. No ambiguity here. Mary makes it clear what will be taking place. But not only that, Mary wipes Jesus’ feet with her hair. The scent of nard will go with her wherever she goes. We don’t know how long that scent will remain in her hair. But she will smell it. And anyone in her presence will smell that scent. She will be constantly reminded in the days ahead what is awaiting Jesus and all those around her will remember as well. Jesus’ impending death will be front of mind for all of them because of the scent Mary carries in her hair. Far from hiding this or being discreet, Mary is making it clear that soon Jesus will die. What a powerful witness of her belief in what Jesus said.

What a contrast between Mary and Judas. Mary is demonstrating a deep love for Jesus. She acknowledges and accepts the truth of what Jesus will be experiencing in the next few days. She is acting in an appropriate, meaningful, beautiful way. But Judas demonstrates such disrespect, not only toward Mary but toward Jesus, with his insensitive critique of Mary’s act of devotion.

We don’t need the parenthetical comment the author of this gospel gives us about Judas’ motives and his character as a thief to know that Judas is missing the mark when he critiques Mary’s act of devotion. Judas gives the impression that he is more concerned about giving money to the poor than expressing devotion to the one who is about to suffer and die. Judas, read the room! This quiet dinner with good friends ahead of what will be a horrific week is a time for comfort, solace, rest, affirmation, of intimate love and support. And Judas makes a comment about how that nard could have been sold and the money given to the poor. Come on, Judas. What does he think that nard is for anyway? Does he not believe when Jesus says he is about to die? I wonder if Judas’ craven greed was so strong that he didn’t even get what was happening. Was he this detached from reality? This critique of Mary the model disciple, questioning her concern for the poor, demeaning her act of devotion and love toward Jesus, missing the symbolism of what she was doing, really makes Judas look bad. He is so out of touch.

But why is this story being told? Why did the gospel writer tell us this story about this dinner Jesus has with his closest friends, what Mary does and what Judas says? It is a story that is very human. We can relate to the experience of being with our closest friends for support and solace in hard times. It adds to the drama and passion to the gospel story. We see what a jerk Judas is. But is there a lesson for us?

One is a reminder that Jesus gives us that the poor will always be with us. There will never be a time when there won’t be an opportunity to give resources to those who lack. Those who were raised on the Torah like Jesus was may remember Deuteronomy 15:11, where we read: “There will always be poor people in the land. Therefore, I command you to be openhanded toward your fellow Israelites who are poor and needy in your land.” To say that there will always be poor people is not to mean that there’s nothing we can do to help them or to overlook them as a sad but unavoidable reality of the human experience. No, the point is that the opportunity to give is always available. There is never not a time to give to those who have need. Jesus affirms this as he responds to Judas’ critique that the nard could have been sold and the money used to help the poor. Absolutely that could have been done and there wouldn’t be anything inherently wrong with doing it, although, as the gospel writer reminds us, Judas didn’t care about the poor. He just wanted more money in the common purse that he could take for his own purposes.

But perhaps the bigger lesson is to consider a couple of things. If we ignore Judas and instead focus on Mary the model disciple, what surfaces as we reflect on her action? What does her anointing of Jesus’ feet with that nard suggest about discipleship?

In her action, Mary makes it clear that she believes in what Jesus said, even though what he said is frightening and upsetting. She deeply loved Jesus. And Jesus had told them all that he had come to Jerusalem this last time to suffer and be crucified. Not only did Mary believe what Jesus said, she accepted it and honored it. This extravagant and devotional act was informed by her belief and acceptance of what Jesus had said. Mary wasn’t being dramatic. She wasn’t being sensuous and provocative. She expressed her love and devotion to Jesus the best way she knew how. Her devotion was pure. Her faith in Jesus was unquestioned.

In a word, Mary’s action of anointing Jesus’ feet was a pure act of love. She deeply loved Jesus and she demonstrated it. Is this not at the heart of discipleship? To be a disciple of Jesus is ultimately not about how well you alleviate the suffering of the poor. It’s not about going along for the ride, walking through life with other disciples. Did you notice that not once did we hear from any of the other disciples in this story? It’s like they are simply observing what is going on and likely mystified over the whole thing. But with Mary and her love for Jesus there was no confusion. No denial or wishful thinking that what Jesus said would happen really wouldn’t happen. Her love for Jesus was clearsighted and based on reality. Her singular motivation was love and devotion for Jesus. It is this place of love where Mary lived out her discipleship.

This is the question we are invited to ask. Just how much do we believe in and love Jesus? Is our discipleship firmly grounded on our love and devotion to Jesus or is it grounded on some other foundation? Some people say they are Christians because they were raised that way. Some people say they are Christians because that’s what an American is. Some say they are Christians because they have completely fallen in love with Jesus, what Jesus’ death and resurrection has made possible, the forgiveness they have received, how their life has been completely transformed because of Jesus. Which is it for you? What is the foundation of your discipleship?