Sermon: Everyone Everywhere All at Once?

First Presbyterian Church

April 28, 2024, Easter 5B

Acts 8:26-40

 

Everyone Everywhere All at Once

 

 

Things have changed a great deal since we last looked in on that fledgling community of Christ-followers back in Acts chapters 3 and 4. Chapter 5 brought another attempt by the Sanhedrin to shut up the disciples (all of them this time), only for one wise member of that body to counsel that trying to silence them only made them stronger, so maybe don't do that? In Chapter 6 we get our first introduction to the deacons, assigned to bring order to the distribution of resources. One of those deacons, Stephen, turned out to be a lot more of an evangelist than table manager, and that got him in trouble, but this time no one was going to stop a lynch mob from stoning him to death. That set off a larger wave of persecution that resulted in the scattering of much of this body out of Jerusalem, while the apostles somehow remained there. Chapter 8 introduces all of this while also introducing a wannabe Pharisee by the name of Saul, who launches his own personal campaign against these followers of the Way; his story will change greatly in chapter 9, which we regrettably won't get to in this Acts run.

We are also introduced to Philip, another of those deacons (not to be confused with the apostle Philip), who is among those scattered and dispersed from Jerusalem. He finds himself in a town in Samaria, and comes to the conclusion that there was no reason not to proclaim the good news here just as they had been doing in Jerusalem. It went extremely well, and many were saved and joined the dispersed but still growing community of Christ-followers. Things went so well, in fact, that word got back to the Twelve in Jerusalem, and Peter and John came to check things out.

For Philip, this must have seemed like his big break. A new community of believers was coming together, and there was plenty of potential for more witnessing and ministry. It must have seemed like this was a situation in which Philip could settle down and do the Lord's work.

So of course, God called him to pick up and go. Ministers will tell you: this happens a lot.

Even for all that these instructions from "an angel of the Lord" in verse 26 must have seemed downright strange. As our author helpfully reminds us in parentheses, the road to which Philip was sent was a wilderness road, one might say in the middle of nowhere. Whatever his compunctions might have been, Philip got up and headed south for that road. 

It turns out he wasn't the only one headed that way. A chariot draws near, and a fine one at that. 

On the chariot is no less than a high official of the queen of the Ethiopians, the Candace (the official title for that queen). He oversaw her treasury. He was seated in this chariot, driven by another man, trying to read from the book of Isaiah; as the custom of this time was that such reading was done out loud, Philip quite likely heard him and possibly recognized what was being read. 

A couple of clarifications: "the Ethiopians" refers to those from an area that would have included the modern-day nation of that name but much more; at its most expansive usage the term encompassed all of sub-Saharan Africa. It's worth noting that the modern-day nation of that name has a Christian history that dates back well into the first centuries of the first millennium, and it's quite possible that this story plays a role in that happening. It's also worth noting that the region, for many citizens of the Roman Empire, constituted the farthest known realm at least to the south; it was, for all practical purposes, "the ends of the earth."

Another point involves something that Philip probably didn't know, but that Luke (the author of Acts as well as the gospel by that name) seems keen to emphasize. In some nations and cultures, it was held that a high woman official could not be served safely by a man who might be tempted to some form of sexual aggression against her. As a result, such high officials were often served by eunuchs, who because of that alteration could not so threaten the queen. Whether this official had been so sexually altered as a youth in preparation for such service, or was so eunuched only before taking office, we don't know.

This complicates the story somewhat. According to the law, a person who had been so altered could not be accepted as a man, much less as a Jew, but some teachers, reading from Isaiah and other prophetic sources, were inclined to grant some grace to such individuals and welcome them into the community. Again, it's not clear how Philip would know this about this visitor, but Luke is quite emphatic about making this clear, perhaps in light of what it means for this emerging faith community (and faith communities of the future, perhaps). 

Philip, again taking the divine prompt, offers to help the traveler with his reading and finds that the passage in question just tees up the chance to introduce this man to Jesus, and the story culminates with the traveler excitedly spotting a pool of water in the desert and begging to be baptized with the question "what can stand in the way of my being baptized?" Philip quickly concludes that the answer is "nothing," and baptizes the man. When he comes up from the water, Philip isn't there, but the man rejoices and resumes his journey home, where for all we know he started the process of spreading the good news among the Ethiopians, down at "the ends of the earth."

Philip, meanwhile, found himself (which is how "appeared" is translated in other modern translations) in a town called Azotus, much closer to the Mediterranean coast and not far from Caesarea, the center of Roman governmental authority in the region. Like he had done in Samaria, he concluded that he might as well preach, and set about spreading the good news in those towns from Azotus to Caesarea. If nothing else you have to credit the man with some serious resilience; no matter where God diverts him to go or to "appear," he gets up and dusts himself off and sets about proclaiming the good news. 

For what it's worth, Philip will show up one last time, in Acts 21, when Paul and his party visit him on their way to Jerusalem. Apparently, he got to settle down in Caesarea and had fathered four daughters, who were all evangelists or prophets, depending on what translation you read. 

But back to what happens in chapter 8, with a brief detour to Acts 1. Remember that when Jesus was about to ascend into heaven, his last words were:

It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority. But you shall receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth. (1:7-8)

 

Philip had first ended up in Samaria, where he bore witness to Jesus. Then, when God sent him elsewhere, he gave his witness of Jesus to the Ethiopian, a man from somewhere like "the ends of the earth" in the perception of a typical occupant of Roman territory. Look at Philip, taking on two of those ultimate destinations in Jesus's final words, and all because no matter where he ended up or found himself, he got up and dusted himself off and started bearing witness. It's a small start, to be sure, but it is a start to the word being proclaimed everywhere, to everyone. No, it's not quite all at once, but it's a start, and at least part of that start is attributed to one deacon-turned-evangelist who, no matter where he "found himself," dusted himself off and set about the work of proclaiming the good news.

May God show us how to do likewise. Thanks be to God. Amen.

 

Hymns (from Glory to God: The Presbyterian Hymnal): #611, Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee; #482, Baptized in Water; #541, God Be With You Till We Meet Again.

Sermon: Rock and Cornerstone

First Presbyterian Church

April 21, 2024, Easter 4B

Psalm 23; Acts 4:5-12, 18-20

 

Rock and Cornerstone

 

 

Yeah, I know, I could have preached on Psalm 23. Everybody loves Psalm 23, right? 

Or I could have turned to the day's gospel reading from John 10, the part that starts off with the declaration from Jesus that "I am the good shepherd." Or I could even have pulled those two together, around that common "shepherd" theme.

But there's still this ongoing story in Acts, one that takes a dramatic and threatening turn as we come into today's reading. While those other two readings about good shepherds place us in the role of sheep, today's Acts story reminds us that there are times when following Jesus and being moved by the Holy Spirit results in actions that are, after all, not very sheep-like. And it turns out this passage has its own pretty significant quote in here, even if it's borrowed from one of the Psalms and shows up in the gospels too.

Peter continued to teach the people who had gathered at the sight of the long-paralyzed man walking and jumping around, finally living up to that name Jesus had given him all those years ago (remember, his name roughly meant "rock").  They only stopped when the priests and the Temple guard captain (the Temple has a guard?) showed up. The priests were highly agitated at just what Peter had been saying about Jesus and his being resurrected from the dead, not to mention how the power that healed the paralyzed man had been in the name of that same Jesus. The priests presumably had Peter and John seized by that captain of the Temple guard and thrown in jail for the night.

(An aside: not only did the Temple have a guard with a captain and everything, but they had the power to arrest people? I really don't like the idea of some kind of church guard corps that could come in and arrest me if I said something they didn't like in a sermon or prayer or something. Anyone who would advocate for such a thing would clearly be rejecting any idea of religious liberty, which has been kinda important in this nation's history. But I digress.)

The next day Peter and John are brought forward before an impressive array of priestly power, both past and present. The list of names given would likely have been familiar to any Jewish folk of the time, especially those with any connection to Jerusalem or the Temple. Their question to Peter and John was simple and direct: "By what power or what name did you do this?" Its simplicity offered Peter and John an escape clause; just don't keep going on about this Jesus that they clearly don't want to hear about. 

So of course, Peter and John doubled down. Not only is Peter "filled with the Holy Spirit" again, that Holy Spirit seems to have added a gift of something like sarcasm or snark for Peter this time. "If we are being called to account today for an act of kindness shown to a man who was lame and are being asked how he was healed ... ". OK, fine, if you're really going to arrest us for healing a paralyzed man, here goes. It is a masterful stroke of reframing that would leave a modern p.r. consultant blushing with envy. It's very unlikely that this escaped the notice of the high priests.

With that established, Peter keeps on doubling down: "then know this, you and all the people of Israel: It is by the name of Jesus of Nazareth, whom you crucified but whom God raised from the dead, that this man who stands before you healed."

You can't be much more direct than that, but Peter has one more rhetorical trick up his sleeve, one that is even more direct at the assignment of blame for that crucifixion. In chapter 3 Peter would have been speaking to a crowd who, for all we can know, were not part of that mob that the religious leaders riled up to demand Jesus's crucifixion. Maybe they were, or maybe some of them were, but we really can't know. This audience, on the other hand, would have been exactly the group that gathered to condemn Jesus and send him off to Roman officials for crucifixion. Peter knows this, and pulls out a passage that will turn extremely accusatory.

Psalm 118:22 reads in its original form "The stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone...". Versions of this verse also show up in Matthew, Mark, and Luke, in that final week of Jesus's earthly pre-crucifixion life, which Peter and John would have been around to hear. Peter's version of that verse is a little different; he declares that Jesus is "the stone you builders rejected, which has become the cornerstone." [emphasis mine]

And to top it all off, in verse 12, Peter asserts that there is no other name in which such a feat could have been accomplished. 

All of this is enough to provoke the priestly group to withdraw into a private meeting - an "executive session," we might say today - to figure out what to do. The answer to that question was: nothing, pretty much. The man was still out there walking and leaping when everyone who ever came near the Temple knew that he had been unable to do that in his lifetime before. That man was still making sure that everybody knew this had happened, if not by Peter and John, then at least through them. And no, it wouldn't look good to "blame" the healed man. 

All they could come up with was to order Peter and John not to keep talking about Jesus, which went about as well as you would expect it to go by now. Notice one again how the two frame their answer. They don't say "we're not going to stop." If anything, their answer makes it clear that it wasn't up to them:

Which is right in God's eyes: to listen to you, or to him? You be the judges! As for us, we cannot help speaking about what we have seen and heard. 

 

It's not up to us. We can't refuse to talk about what God has shown and taught us. And even then, all the priestly cohort could do was mumble another couple of threats and let them go. 

Later in Acts, there will come threats to the followers of Christ that will do actual harm. The deacon Stephen would be executed by a lynch mob, and violence against the other followers would drive many of them out of Jerusalem. Then in chapter 12 the Roman puppet king Herod would discover that punishing these disciples gained him favor with the locals, and had the disciple James (John's brother) killed with the sword, and arrested Peter with the intent to do the same to him.

However, those followers who scattered after Stephen's lynching just kept telling what they had seen and heard, with the result that the good news spread farther and farther out from Jerusalem. As for Herod, after an angel helped Peter escape from prison, Herod came to his own bad end. 

Still, filled with the Holy Spirit and founded upon the cornerstone that is Jesus, these disciples (now becoming known as apostles) and deacons and other followers without names kept telling what they had seen and heard. And the body of the followers of Jesus kept growing, possibly up to five thousand by now. 

There would be persecution to come. There would be challenges for the growing fellowship to face. And yet, after its first major confrontation with the religious authorities, they were not only still together, but they were still growing and still bearing witness, both to their own contemporaries in their own time, and also to us today.

For the witness of the early followers of Jesus, Thanks be to God. Amen.

 

Hymns (from Glory to God: The Presbyterian Hymnal): #624, I Greet Thee, Who My Sure Redeemer Art; #353, My Hope Is Built on Nothing Less; #394, Christ Is Made the Sure Foundation

Sermon: Who Are You, and What Have You Done with Peter?

First Presbyterian Church

April 14, 2024, Easter 2B

Acts 3:12-19

 

Who Are You, and What Have You Done With Peter?

 

 

Our reading for this morning begins in the middle of a particular story, one that begins at the beginning of this chapter and continues through chapter 4. We will pick up later in this same story in next week's reading, as the echo of what happens in this account leads to trouble with the Temple authorities and some excellent witness bearing in the fledgling community of followers of Christ. 

It's worth remembering here that to some degree, this community doesn't have a name yet. You might find some reference to "followers of Christ" or "followers of the Way," but the word "Christians" isn't applied to this community until chapter 11 of this book of Acts. We need to remember that, at this point in the story, the dispute that will come of this event is a "family argument"; that is, it is an intra-Jewish disagreement taking place here. The very fact that Peter and John had come to the Temple at all should help us understand that when Peter addresses the crowd as "fellow Israelites" in verse 12, it isn't merely a rhetorical device; as far as Peter is concerned, he is addressing his fellow Jews. 

He does this in the Temple to a crowd that has gathered around him and John and one other man, who the Temple-goers recognized, but not like this. They knew him as the man who was always seated at one of the entryways into the Temple, seeking alms. He was seated there daily, with the help of some sympathetic fellow Jews, because he could not walk; he was born paralyzed. When he asked Peter and John for money, Peter (probably truthfully) said he had none. He instead told the man to get up and walk and reached out his hand to help the man up. The man indeed did get up and walk, and even threw in a little jumping just because he could. It was this sight, as recounted in the beginning of this chapter, that drew the crowd looking for an explanation for this unexplainable event. 

Peter's address to the crowd, of which we have the first half or so, can sound accusatory as it is translated in most English translations, especially after his initial statement that this man was healed, not by Peter or John, but by Jesus, the one whom "You handed ... over ... You disowned ... before Pilate ... You disowned the Holy and Righteous One ... You killed the Author of Life ... You acted in ignorance." You can probably imagine a courtroom lawyer in some kind of TV drama hitting that word "you" with increasing emphasis with each repetition. 

Notice that beginning with verse 17, Peter's tone shifts from accusation to something like empathy, a "but you didn't know what you were doing" tone that opens the door to a call to repent of that ignorance. The accusation is not any kind of final condemnation, but the opening of a door, inviting those listening to follow the One whose power had raised up this paralyzed man to walk for the first time. 

The story is itself compelling, and we will hear more of it in next week's reading. Before going too much further, though, it's worth noting just who it is that is delivering this strong proclamation and witness to the power of the risen Christ. It is, of course, Peter, one of the twelve. You remember Peter, right?

You know, the one who used to be called Simon. The one who was the first to call Jesus the Messiah, only to turn around and mess up what "Messiah" meant so badly that Jesus basically called him the Devil. The one who put his foot in his mouth on the mountaintop when Jesus was transfigured. The one who denied Jesus not just once, but three times. You know. That Peter.

What has gotten into Peter? Or, to borrow the modern slang idiom suggested in the title of this sermon, who are you, and what have you done with Peter?

Let's retrace Peter's steps for a moment.

In the gospel reading from Mark that we read two weeks ago, the account that ends with the charge to follow Jesus to Galilee, the messenger at the tomb told the women there to repeat this instruction to the disciples and specifically, by name, to Peter.

In John's gospel, when Jesus meets some of the disciples by the lakeside, he asks Peter "do you love me?" three different times, you might imagine once for each time Peter denied Jesus. Each time, once Peter had answered in the affirmative, Jesus told him "Feed my lambs," "Take care of my sheep," "Feed my sheep." Despite his multiple failings, Peter was never shamed out of the community. If anything, Jesus put that much more of a charge on him. 

As we move out of the gospels and into the record of the development of the early church in Acts, we first see Peter as more or less the leader of the disciples in the first chapter of Acts, an account we will come to read in a few weeks. Then of course comes the Pentecost event, at which Peter first steps forward to speak to the startled crowds. Only a few days later, the healing that sets today's reading in motion happens at the Temple. 

In the span of about two months' time as we would count it, Peter has clearly changed. How do we account for this?

For one, as noted above, Peter wasn't thrown out or abandoned by Jesus despite all those stumbles and shortcomings, even if that encounter on the lakeshore was a rather hard and bitter one for Peter. The modern church could stand to remember that sometimes.

We also have to acknowledge, especially for this post-Pentecost story, that the one speaking through Peter is no less than the Holy Spirit. 

Due to the oddities of the Revised Common Lectionary we won't get to that account for a few weeks. For now, we should remember that the disciples, gathered in a room waiting as they had been for ten days since Jesus's ascension, were touched by "a sound like the rush of a violent wind" and "divided tongues, as of fire," after which they "began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability."

As far as we can tell, that was, in Peter's time frame, just a few days ago. 

Peter knows firsthand what the Holy Spirit is and what the Holy Spirit can do, and because of that Peter can speak with boldness and give good testimony to the work of Jesus, and people hear, and people are changed. The response to that first sermon, at Pentecost? Three thousand people. As we'll see next week that number goes up after this speech.

 We have safely cordoned ourselves away from anything so rash and disruptive as the Holy Spirit. At most it's one Sunday of the year when the pastor tries to get people to wear red and some different hymns or songs might get sung. But the idea of actually living under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, well, that's risky. You might get in trouble, as we'll see with Peter and John next week. Things might <shudder> change. Can't have that.

As we will see through these next few Sundays, our earliest ancestors in the faith went through some shocking and extremely disruptive things under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, some of those things extremely difficult for us to comprehend or accept. But without these ancestors and their willingness to be led by the Holy Spirit, to put it bluntly, there's no church today. It doesn't spread out from Jerusalem into all of Judea and Samaria and then to Syria and Asia Minor and even all the way to Rome and then beyond. We don't exist without the Holy Spirit and those who welcomed that Spirit and were led into things they would never have imagined.

What about the church if we won't be led by the Spirit? Let's not find out.

For the Spirit that incited the first believers, Thanks be to God. Amen.

 

Hymns (from Glory to God: The Presbyterian Hymnal); #234, Come, Ye Faithful, Raise the Strain; #494, Jesus, Thou Joy of Loving Hearts; #629, Jesus the Very Thought of Thee

farmstead

farmstead

not many such things
on presbyterian properties 
i would guess 

a few chickens 
several goats 
and a pair of donkeys 
plus some garden patches

as i am about to walk away
one of the donkeys eyes me
and starts to walk towards me
carefully 
i approach the fence at an angle 
the donkey comes to meet me 

what happens next 
i’ve seen many times 
from our cats
a slight tilt of the head 
towards my hand
i know that sign

so i stand there for a few minutes 
patting a donkey’s head 

the point
is not that this was somehow a
magical
mystical
cosmic 
spiritual moment 
it doesn’t get special 
just because i’m writing 
one of these 
silly little poems about it

if anything 
maybe the point is to wonder 
that we have created a world 
in which
such a moment *seems*
magical 
mystical 
cosmic
spiritual 
and not
something that happens 
between fellow creatures of God

i mean
we are fellow creatures of God
right?