The Message of Acts
Luke could have written a statistical analysis of the growth of the church – if he had lived today, we might expect him to do that on a few PowerPoint slides with a cool animation or two and a little laser pointer in his hand to note the ups and downs. He could have written an epistle-like book that summarized the key teachings of the apostles in a handy “talking points” fashion. He even could have written a narrative that focused primarily on long quotations from the apostles with just a small bit of context, something more like the continuing coverage of the Israelites after the Exodus. But, he didn’t.
Instead, Luke wrote a full fledged narrative that seems to adopt many of the same qualities that one might see in an epic. There is an invocation of sorts, not to the muses, but given by the muse behind all these events, the Holy Spirit. From there, the apostles went boldly forward, empowered by the Holy Spirit, giving speeches that demonstrate the immediate triumph of the Gospel in their own lives. Theses speeches often include recasting and expansion of the information given in the narrative, another quality of classical epics, and one that serves to give the written word a near vocal quality. While Luke has a serious and high-minded purpose, he recognized the importance of telling a good story too.
The Gospel is far too valuable to drown in a death of prosaic dryness! It is a story that deserves the fullness of a rich and visual report, carefully laid out so that the reader can see the amazing power of the triumph of the Gospel. Though the stories to us can be all too familiar and hard to get excited about, these are surprising events! Why ewould Gamaliel so comfortably assert that there was no need to actively snuff out the Christians in chapter 5 if not for the surprising nature of the continued expansion of the church later in Acts? Much as Goliath never thought he had to worry about that little shepherd boy who was walking up to him, so too the opponents of the Gospel had every reason to expect that this movement too would pass. Quickly.
That’s not to say that there wasn’t opposition. Luke continually supplies details of how the epic hero – the Gospel – is facing bitter enemies that ought to bring it down. External persecution follows everywhere, from the high priests in chapter 4, the determined Saul in chapters 7-9, pagans such as Demetrius in chapter 19, and so many more. The Gospel does not arrive by default; it does not spread as matter of convenience. Rather, it spreads only by the Holy Spirit, who overcomes showstopper after showstopper that should have made Acts in to a tragedy. It triumphs by being. It progresses by being alive and transformative.
Like every good storyteller, though, Luke is conscious of the fact that those he supports aren’t prefect. A good writer describes the flaws of the protagonist and not just the antagonist. And Luke does this brilliantly. If he had fancied himself a propagandist, he might have painted the apostles as perfectly clear minded fellows who were bold, determined and ready to do all of Jesus’s mission without any convincing. Instead, we meet a sad band of followers, who, while giving triumphant speeches at times, can’t get the message. As early as Acts 1, we find they still do not understand the nature of the Messiah. There is lying amongst the ranks of the young church (Acts 5) and even ethnic division (Acts 6). These flaws ought to be the tragic flaw that brings down the hero, but like Odysseus, the hero of this story – the Gospel prevails. It prevails against its external foes and its internal foibles.
Luke accomplishes two things by these means. First we can be encouraged that we are not all that different from the people in Acts. When we have disagreements, we can see that even two people as faithful as Paul and Barnabas had major disagreements (Acts 15.36-38). When we realize that we are not doing as good of job bringing all cultures into our midst, we can see that the early church struggled with this too. When some in the congregation seem to betray everyone’s’ trust, we realize that Ananias and Sapphira did that long before. None of these events are justified by Luke, but rather, like a good hero, the church in its triumphant declaration of the Gospel is “someone” that we can see ourselves in.
Aristotle suggested that a good drama needed a main character that was neither perfectly good nor perfectly evil, because a person of either extreme we cannot connect with, and, if they come to a fitting end of one kind or another, everything seems right without the events impacting us. Likewise, if Luke had white washed the history of the church, we might find that though it was perfect, and we could cheer for it, we could not really associate with it, given the less than perfect reality of the church today. The church today triumphs through both internal and external adversity – and so did the church in Acts.
Second, Luke’s inclusion of the flaws keeps us from seeing Acts as merely a feel good story. When we righteously condemn that certain widows got preferential treatment (Acts 6) or scorn the deceit of Ananias and Sapphira (Acts 5), we soon realize, much as David did when being addressed by Nathan, that the story being told is a mirror to our own condition. I lie, I discriminate, I fail. Luke uses history to bring us to repentance, to catharsis – the book of Acts is a tool for the Holy Spirit to use to bring us to repentance. And, of course, once brought there, Luke reminds us again and again and again of what our goal should be: to work as part of the Holy Spirit’s triumphant spread of the Gospel.
The story not only starts in the midst of the action, but it ends in the midst of the action. The Gospel does not finish spreading. The lights fade and the camera pans with Paul still preaching unfettered (Acts 28.31). The vicious persecutor who was broken and turned into the Apostle to the Gentiles is still hard at work as we depart; he is still putting in the good word for the good news that is triumphant. Much as Homer did in the Odyssey, Luke leaves us here with an improved hero, a triumphant hero, but a hero with much still to accomplish. The triumphant Gospel does not end and sit statically meaning, it continues to be.
Acts is both exciting and intimidating to me because of this triumphant Gospel. Homer and Virgil never ask me to enter into their epic worlds and share in the triumph, but God does ask each one of us to be “fellow workers” in His triumphant Gospel. In sorting this out, I find comfort in both Peter and Paul. Both of them are reluctant participants in the triumph – Peter does not want to be involved with Gentile evangelism, but God makes him do so. Paul wants to destroy the church, but God makes him do a 180. Given that I am a Christian, obviously I have no desire to destroy the church – but I do sympathize with Paul’s position and doubly so Peter’s. At times I resent and resist that which violates my comfort zone, my traditions. And, indeed, sometimes it is good to stand up for “cleanliness” – though not for salvation, the Jerusalem counsel did note that some behaviors were worth strongly encouraging (Acts 15); but all too often, it has more to do with me. I can be like the Pharisees who tithed their garden herbs (Luke 11.42), or Peter who sat under Jesus and heard the command to go to the ends of the earth (Acts 1) and yet needed a vision just to go down the road to a Gentile’s house!
How many times am I like Ananias? I give my time to benefit others, but really just want to hear praise (and make sure the praise that goes to me is greater than that which goes to others around me). How many times am I like King Agrippa – well aware of what the Spirit is urging, and yet content to sit back and say, “So fast? No way” (Acts 26.32). Even in this essay, and this very confession, am I really doing this to bring glory to God and serve the triumph of the Gospel or in hopes that I will receive praise for the “land money” I am donating?
The convicting element is strong in Acts, but the triumph of the Gospel is stronger. Those who are willing to let God correct them are still used! What wonderful news! And news that impacts me directly – without the unfettered Gospel preaching that Paul was allowed to do, would I be here today in seminary saved by the Gospel of grace?
This triumphant Gospel promises curves in the road. We can see that God often works through what appear to be inconveniences, problems and setbacks. This is reassuring, as I have sought to understand my calling and serve in my church. Over the last year, I have been given the blessing to teach the youth group Sunday School class. It is not an opportunity I sought and not one I really had wanted. I was reluctant to say the least – I have always felt called to teaching college age and older, not high schoolers. And when I started, the project seemed anything but triumphant. The students did not seem interested (to understate the situation) and they didn’t remember anything afterwards. I felt hopeless. And yet God has worked in this to the continuing triumph of his Gospel. I have learned a great deal of humility that I lacked (I need more!) and have become better at dealing with the ins and outs of this sort of ministry. Like Peter, God put me out of my comfort zone – but not for an arbitrary purpose, but as part of the continuing epic triumph of the Gospel, however small my part may be.
And that is the message of Acts, the message I continue to struggle to internalize and continue to draw hope from where God has presently placed me to serve. The message of Acts is not simply meaning – even splendid meaning filled with great doctrines – it is being. It is not a proclamation of triumph – it is the active, living triumph of the Gospel. It is a triumph, an epic, a grand story filled with imperfect people – like you and like I – who are called, indeed, drafted to serve that story to push it forward. Forward it is pushed with purpose and direction to spread the Gospel unhindered to the ends of the earth. Active triumph.
Acts of Remembering
For a major exam on Thursday, I need to be prepared to outline the book of Acts, noting a major theme for each chapter. To prepare, while keeping everything straight, I thought I'd take advantage of a very basic tool for keeping the chapters in the right order: the alphabet. I did have to get a little creative, switching to numbers, for the last two chapters, since Acts has 28 chapters and English only has 26 letters. For your amusement, I present my list:
1 Away from here — go spread the word to the ends of the earth.
2 Broadcasting Pentecost Peter does.
3 Crippled is healed by Peter
4 Denounced, the Gospel is/Apostles are, by the Sanhedrin,
5 Errors in accounting end Ananias and Sapphira's lives.
6 Finding seven to care for the widows
7 Gospel boldly given by Stephen, Stephen killed.
8 Here and there w/ Philip (Samaria and conversation with Ethiopian)
9 “I was wrong,” says Paul.
10 Judge not Gentiles, Peter is told, goes to Cornelius.
11 “Kill and Eat” was what I was told, Peter tells disciples in Jerusalem.
12 Lapse in judgment of his own worth kills Herod.
13 Missionary journey one for Paul, Barnabas; they go to Cyprus, Antioch (Antioch is Barrs's Evangelism Style Sample #1)
14 “No, we aren't gods,” Paul and Barnabus to Lystrans (Lystra is Barrs's Evangelism Style Sample #2)
15 Only a few requirements are sent out from Jerusalem Counsel.
16 Prison for Paul (Timothy is now along for the journey with Paul and Silas)
17 Queries from philosophers in Athens.
18 Rhyme Priscilla & Aquilla (in Corinth)
19 Silversmith, Demetrius, in Ephesus.
20 Trying departure from Ephesus (a very sad goodbye)
21 Unquenchable anger at Paul in Jerusalem.
22 Value of citizenship in escaping said anger.
23 Wise dividing of Sanhedrin by Paul (“I am accused because of the resurrection”)
24 feli(X) questions Paul.
25 “You have appealed to Caesar,” says Festus.
26 Zero guilt, Aggripa assesses, but Paul must be sent to Caesar.
27 1 big storm = 1 big shipwreck = no 1 harmed.
28 2 years Paul preaches in Rome unhindered.
Sharing a Joy
I too often come onto my blog sounding melancholic, if not downright depressed. I don't want to convey the image that I'm just a perpetual rain cloud, I'm not. It just seems on issues such as my last post, my blog is such an inviting canvas on which to paint that I can't resist. And, really, troubling issues are often the ones I need to dwell on in writing, for better or worse.
But, tonight I'll share a joy I had over the last few days: I've translated my first little Hebrew sentences. Sure, they aren't much more complex than “See Spot run, run Spot run,” but to just to get that beachhead feels marvelous with as intimidating as Hebrew appears. Especially since one sentence was even a little snippet from Genesis. I know the language is going to do its best to kill me in the coming months, but for the moment, I'll bask in the joy of what is past.
Revisiting a Bad Day
September 19, 2005 was one of the worst days of my life. I am reminded of that day today, partly because it was 3 years ago today and partly because like that day, I've been fighting a cold (or allergy attack) for the last few days.
I keep coming back to the issue of time on my blog. Time fascinates me. Three years ago seems like such a long time ago, and yet I can picture September 19 almost as if it were yesterday. Perhaps in part that is because that which became unsettled on September 19 remains unsettled — more so than I expected, then — even to this day. In some ways, perhaps time's distance is not so much about the amount of minutes that have passed by; rather, it is about how relevant and active a given time is to the present time.
September 19 is still quite relevant.
One of the things I like about blogging, especially when I am on an active posting spree, is that it leaves markers of days like today. Looking back to the post I linked to above, I received a snapshot of what I felt by my own words then and not by three years of framing things in my mind. That's rather interesting.
Blogging will certainly change the way we remember things in the decades ahead, I suspect.
Need to Get Back to Blogging
Not all that long ago, I often blogged every day of the month. These days, it seems like this or that always keeps me from blogging, which is frustrating, because I always find blogging helpful — both as a sort of kartharsis in writing things and as an enjoyable way to interact with my friends in the blogosphere.
I'm going to try to write something several times a week again… or bust.
The Coca-Cola Classic Presidential Hopeful
I'm going to fight for my cause every day as your president. I'm going to fight to make sure every American has every reason to thank God, as I thank Him: that I'm an American, a proud citizen of the greatest country on earth, and with hard work, strong faith and a little courage, great things are always within our reach. Fight with me. Fight with me.
Fight for what's right for our country.
Fight for the ideals and character of a free people.
Fight for our children's future.
Fight for justice and opportunity for all.
Stand up to defend our country from its enemies.
Stand up for each other; for beautiful, blessed, bountiful America.
Stand up, stand up, stand up and fight. Nothing is inevitable here. We're Americans, and we never give up. We never quit. We never hide from history. We make history.
Thank you, and God bless you.
John McCain is not a guy known for his stunning speeches, but somehow he managed to do a pretty amazing follow up to Sarah Palin's excellent example of oratory. His acceptance speech, I think, will be remembered as one of the most sincere and well crafted in recent decades. Key to the speech was that it moved up to its climax slowly and patiently, reaching its pinnacle in his war story, which came later rather than (as I had expected) earlier. The fact that he used his POW story as an explanation for how he went from a egotistical fly boy to a “Country First” presidential candidate was powerful and gave a strong push down the slope of conclusion to his speech, so that he was able to end with the masterful crescendo above, which he shouted out over thunderous applause.
For a man whose preferred venue is the town hall, this was nearly magical.
The speech came across as humble, confident and connected. His critiquing of his own party — which delegates did not seem to know what to do with — was fitting and, I believe, will ultimately be effective. He presented a case for a return to more sensibly conservative Republicanism, and I think that is a brand far more attractive than the “compassionate conservatism” that the party had rebranded to in recent years. McCain was like the CEO of the Coca-Cola Co. announcing the return of Coca-Cola Classic after months of New Coke.
I'm excited. Let's win this election, shall we?
The Pit Bull with Lipstick
That's how Sarah Palin defined “hockey moms” such as herself, and boy did it fit. She brilliantly delivered attacks that struck deep into the weaknesses of the Obama-Biden campaign while doing so in a humorous and intelligent way. Even many reporters that were clearly in the tank for Obama have been gushing about her speech tonight, and for good reason: she didn't hit a home run, she hit a grand slam.
Go Palin! I'm looking forward to President Palin someday down the road, and President McCain in January!
I'm Thrilled
I'm really excited about Sarah Pallin. I think she is going to shake this election up, as early polling is indicating. Sen. McCain and Gov. Palin are in town today, alas previous commitments made it impossible for me to go hear them. I hope they swing through this swing state again before the election — then, hopefully, I will catch them.
In any case, the ticket looks really, really strong. Palin has quite a reputation for major action only a few years into her political career. With ethics reform and fiscal responsibility measures gracing her CV, it seems hard not to be excited. Moreover, the fact that she is not only pro-life, but has shown how strong her commitment is by keeping her youngest child despite knowing he would suffer from Down's Syndrome, shows she can walk her talk and adds a powerfully humanizing element to a sometimes abstract debate (not that I'd suggest one's family should be turned into political pawns, but nevertheless, one's personal actions certainly provide helpful support for one's policies — if they match). Even some pro-choice analysts seem to be soft on Palin's pro-life stance because she is not someone speaking from a distance.
The McCain-Palin ticket looks like it could potentially reset the Republicans to a someone pre-neocon state, which would not make me the least bit sad. While McCain's support of Iraq obviously ties him into the neo-conservative spectrum, there can be little doubt that he is not four more years of President Bush. I like President Bush better than most, but at the same time, I think only a very small minority thinks the Bush era GOP is better than the Reagan era party.
And, of course, it is obviously exciting that whichever party wins, a happy bit of history is now going to be made this election. While I do not think one should vote for the Republican ticket because it will give the U.S. its first female vice president, or the Democratic ticket because it will give the U.S. its first African-American president, all else aside, cracking the proverbial (and — this week — popular) cracked glass ceiling would be good for all of us.
Ghosts of the Past
Ed used that phrase in his reply haiku to my last post. There is quite some truth to that. For some reason some familiar ghosts of the past have haunted me more than I would expect the last few weeks. Actually, I think it isn't “some reason,” but rather the Olympics. Given that they only happen every so often, if anything happens near the Games, it is inevitably washed back up on the beaches of memory when the games return (and, of course, seeing the Games end is a sad sight by itself).
Perhaps I shall blog more on those beachings later in the week. But I find myself at an odd point; I would really like those ghosts to go away, and yet there is something comfortable, even desirable about them. I don't want them to go away.
A stand off of sorts. “My Immortal” fits well in some senses, if — perhaps — overdramatically.
I'm so tired of being here
These wounds won't seem to heal
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
'Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase
—Ben Moody
Perhaps that is how pain often is. If something pains us, the pain is frequently the last thing we hold onto. If the pain is lost, so is the last remnant of the thing causing the pain. So, while ghosts of the past are undesirable, they are also highly desirable. I can think of more than one that has been a comfortable traveling companion over years past. The key, which I have not perfected in the least, is to find a way to at least objectify those ghosts — creating the objective correlative — if one can do that, one has completed a key step in transforming them into poetry.
And, that, after all, is one of my goals.
Late Night Haiku XXVII
LXXVI. Rain drops heavy on roof
Tears remembering the past,
Another life ago.
LXXVII. Crickets chirp as then,
But so much else has changed, set.
Oh, rewind, cruel time!
LXXVIII. A miraculous
Vision one lept year prior this.
Faded now — old ink.
