Today’s post is written by the Revd. Phil Gough.  Phil is a minister in the South Ribble Circuit in Lancashire, England.

Track One Reading:  Acts 13.1-25; Track Two Reading:  Acts 13.1-12

And the winner is…….

Oh, the end of XFactor was a shocker for me. My daughter desperately wanted Same Difference to win, I thought Rhyddian was the obvious winner, but the cheeky little chappy Leon stole the prize. Amazing result ? Maybe.

Imagine the church choosing to send out its winning team of Saul and Barnabas. It was a tough call for the church, but what impresses upon me is the fact that this decision came not by popular vote, but by the discerning of the Holy Spirit amongst the “prophets and teachers”. How did this happen – through worshipping the Lord and fasting for a certain time. This fast was for discerning the will of God. Although not often spoken of, fasting and praying are still used extensively by individuals and groups seeking the will of God. And fasting is still used by God as a means of getting his message across, getting us to a place of openness and vulnerable surrender to Him.

What choices in life are you facing? Fast and pray, and not always alone, and God will find a way of communicating His will.

Secondly, I love Cyprus. We’ve had some lovely family holidays there and I can picture places in Paphos (not a bad place for the Spirit to lead you to, eh ?). One commentator suggests Cyprus to be a good starting place for the missionary outreach to Gentiles because it was Barnabas’s home country (familiar territory), only two days journey from Antioch, and with a large Jewish population.

Two things seem noteworthy to me here. Firstly, note that in v. 9, Saul is also called Paul, and is referred to as Paul for the rest of Acts. Mmmm. Paul is the Romanised version of his name and might signify a move to be more accepted to Gentile ears; verses 9 – 11 also mark a transition from the leadership of Barnabas to that of Paul. See how the Spirit manoeuvred Paul into position through the confrontation with the magician – not a comfortable encounter.

Often leadership is forged through such encounters.

Let God’s Spirit lead you to familiar territory, and ask Him to fill you, that your potential for Him may be achieved. He may give you a new name for a new missionary purpose.

Track One Reading: Acts 11.1-30; Track Two Reading: Acts 11.1-18

Peter makes his way back home from his visit with Cornelius and he is hit at the front door with questions. ‘Why did you go to uncircumcised men and eat with them?’ The last couple of days, the posts have reflected this tension that appears in us that makes us a little sceptical about allowing ‘others’ (whoever they may be) to come in. Is it so hard to believe that the first believers in Jesus would be that different than us? Probably not. We have already noted that even Peter was a little sceptical about going to Cornelius’s house. He didn’t even understand why he was there, even after God gave him that vision. Yet now Peter sees this as being part of God’s plan all along, and even Peter – the great leader and friend of Jesus – was not above criticism from the church when he was following God’s plan!

This episode here sets the scene for what will come later. The subject of circumcision and the inclusion of the Gentiles will dominate as the major issue confronting the young church, as we will see in Acts and in many of Paul’s letters. When we allow new people into our churches, change is inevitable. Anyone who has got married or taken in with a roommate after living alone for a while can tell you how even close friends living together can cause chaos at the beginning. Commentator Robert Wall writes about these ‘circumcised believers’ who question Peter,

The real danger is to trivialize their anxiety and criticize these Jewish believers as ‘legalists’ or worse. Their concern for purity is in reality a concern for the community’s solidarity. This is after all a community of friends that has distinguished itself in Jerusalem’s public life by living together with ‘one heart and soul’ (Robert Wall, The New Interpreters Bible, Vol X, “Acts”, p. 168).

Now that the God has seen fit to pour out the Holy Spirit on the Gentiles, the circumcised Jews know their privileged place in God’s salvation story is at an end: all are welcome, and all will share fellowship around the table – and, more importantly, the Holy Spirit (Wall, ibid.). New ideas may come in. Assumptions about what they know and what they don’t know can’t be made. And how will the traditions long kept by those who are already ‘in’ be handled? This, and more precisely circumcision, will be the flashpoint around which the Gentile controversy will centre later.

Peter and his fellow Jewish believers force us to think about what does it mean to be an inclusive community that Caroline wrote about yesterday. What changes will it bring if we truly want to be a church that opens our doors to all people? Is our attitude, ‘They will learn to “do church” exactly as we have done because we have been here longer’? Will we demand that they learn our language (as Paul Critchley mused on the second day)? Or will there be a sharing of table fellowship between us, a means by where they encounter the God who loves us all?

When April and I moved to Wilpshire in September 2006, we set aside one room for a particular purpose because of someone we were expecting – our daughter. Had we not been expecting a child, then obtaining a crib and other baby paraphernalia would have been a strange exercise. We prepared our room for whom we hoped to welcome into our home. How are we arranging our church life based on who we hope to invite to be a part of the community that God is building?

Today’s post is written by the Revd. Caroline Ryder.  Caroline is a minister in the South Fylde Circuit in Lancashire, England.

Track One Reading:  Acts 10.17-48; Track Two Reading:  Acts 10.25-33, 44-48

This passage speaks clearly about an attitude we can often take for granted and so easily pay lip service to, but, at the same time, do not live out; that being, all-inclusivity.  It’s an attitude that says AND believes ‘they must all be coming to the party’ and that ‘there’s room for everyone in God’s house’.  It’s a view point that says AND believes every single person you’ll ever meet in life matters to God, and so they better matter to us!  It’s an attitude that’s all-inclusive.  It’s an attitude that assumes the best, instead of assuming the worst.  It’s an attitude that isn’t picky and choosy about who is on their way to Christ, because God just loves us all, and wants everyone to come to Christ.

As Peter, reflecting on this event, in Acts 10.34-36 (The Message Version) “It’s God’s own truth, nothing could be plainer: God plays no favourites! It makes no difference who you are or where you’re from—if you want God and are ready to do as he says, the door is open. The Message he sent to the children of Israel—that through Jesus Christ everything is being put together again—well, he’s doing it everywhere, among everyone. We need to remember that God doesn’t have a type; his type is human beings.  His love in all-embracing.  God is like that but sadly there are those in the church today who are not like that.

The story goes of an old street man who one Sunday morning entered a church just before the service was about to begin. Although the old man and his clothes were spotlessly clean, he wore jeans, a denim shirt, and boots that were very worn and ragged. In his hand he carried a worn-out old hat and an equally worn-out Bible. The church he entered was in a very upscale and exclusive part of the city. The people of the congregation were all dressed in expensive clothes and accessories. As the man took a seat, the others moved away from him. No one greeted, spoke to, or welcomed him.  They were all appalled at his appearance and did not attempt to hide it. As the old man was leaving the church, the preacher approached him and asked the man to do him a favour. “Before you come back in here again, have a talk with God and ask him what he thinks would be appropriate attire for worship.” The old man assured the preacher he would.

The next Sunday, he showed back up for the services wearing the same ragged jeans, shirt, boots, and hat. Once again he was completely shunned and ignored. The preacher approached the man and said, “I thought I asked you to speak to God before you came back to our church.” “I did,” replied the man. “If you spoke to God, what did he tell you the proper attire should be for worshiping in here?” asked the preacher. “Well, sir, God told me that He didn’t have a clue what I should wear. He said He’d never been in this church’.

Fortunately, one of the gifts of many in our congregations is the gift of hospitality. You open your homes.  You open your hearts to others and you enter hurting lives and I want to encourage you.   But it can not be simply left to a few.

And so, may none of us be like Peter who, having been around Jesus for a number of years and witnessing his ministry to ALL types of people (Jews, Samaritans, Romans, rich, poor, old, young) simply settle for preaching inclusivity.  Like Peter, may we have a fresh vision from God and be challenged to  expand those areas in which our circles of love have become too small and exclusive.

Today’s post is written by the Revd. Bev Ramsden. Bev is a minister in the Blackpool Circuit in Lancashire, England.Track One Reading: Acts 9.32-10.16; Track Two Reading: Acts 10.1-16

Miracles among the Believers
Peter is travelling round the country preaching the good news to groups of Jews. In the course of his ministry he comes across people who are ill and Jesus heals them through him. “Jesus Christ heals you. Get up and take care of your mat.” (9.34) The result is that these miracles “became known all over [the area] and many people believed in the Lord.” (9.42)

The writer of Acts tells these incidents as if Peter acted almost without thinking. His confidence in the healing power of Jesus was so integral to his thinking and his living that he just got on with it. He didn’t worry about what would happen if the person didn’t get healed. He didn’t worry about the consequences at all. He simply saw the need and acted, bringing God’s word into the situation, and knowing that Jesus is the one who would bring the needed transformation. His role was simply to get on with it…

Do we live and act as though our faith is really real?

Faith in God is not an intellectual belief in a set of doctrinal statements. It is an all of life commitment to live by faith, to live knowing it to be reality. Faith is life lived in obedience to the knowledge of the love of God shown in Jesus. Nothing more and nothing less.

A question for reflection: Does your faith run your life or is it something you tag on when it’s convenient?

Visions and Obedience
Cornelius, who was an outsider and knew nothing of Jesus, only needed to hear from God once before he acted in faith. Peter had to have the same dream three times before God managed to get through to him. Isn’t it odd that the non-Christian heard God more clearly and acted in faith more quickly than the long-time disciple of Jesus? Isn’t it odd that in the first part of today’s reading, we see Peter acting in a decisive way, confident of the power of Jesus to act through him, and yet, in the second part of the reading, we see a different side of Peter, a side that is much more intransigent. Seemingly he is unable to believe what he is being told by God, because it clashes so fiercely with his upbringing and his cherished beliefs about the way things should be done.

Do we suffer from the same problem as Peter? Do we think of everyone outside the church as a non-believer and beyond God’s word? Do we have a tendency to think that God can only act through the church?

God speaks to anyone he pleases, even those outside the church. Sometimes perhaps, like Cornelius, they can hear him better, being unencumbered by religiosity.

A question for reflection: How can we connect God with seekers in a way they can understand? What can we learn from other expressions of Christianity about how to communicate with today’s society? How do we make shifts in our thinking in order to come alongside God’s work in our society?

Track One Reading:  Acts 9.1-31; Track Two Reading:  Acts 9.1-19

We last saw Saul at Stephen’s execution, giving his approval.  Saul has stepped up his opposition to the church (here and elsewhere in Acts called ‘The Way’) by seeking out Jesus’ followers and putting a violent end to the Jesus movement.  What follows has become the conversion story par excellence.  For me, it’s been the model story for those I have heard at youth retreats, bible studies, and even some preaching, and it’s been the story of which I have always had a small bit of jealousy.  Having grown up in the church, I have had no big ‘Damascus Road’ to show a huge change from one lifestyle to another.  I think a lot of us love to hear the ‘sinner turned to Jesus’ stories that seem to show the power of God in an individual’s life.  Deep down, the sinner seems to know that what he or she is doing is wrong, but can’t find the way out until someone comes with the message of Jesus, or a Christian track is picked up.  After accepting Jesus, the sinner now has a happiness that he or she could never have had with sex, drugs, or whatever the sin was.

I don’t mention this as my doubt of the power of God.  I know that despite my life of growing up in the church, I have had my fair share of sins.  I just don’t have the dramatic conversion story to go with it.  And indeed, God’s reaching out to Saul does tell us that God can take the worst sinner and change him or her into a preacher, none like the world has ever seen.  But, is that what really is going on in this story?  Saul is a sinner, and trying to snuff out the very movement that he will join and champion all the way to Rome.  Yet, there doesn’t seem to be any sense that Saul had any idea that what he was doing was wrong (not even in his letters does he give us an idea of one who is looking for personal peace in his heart).  Nor does his life become suddenly worry-free.  In fact, God tells Ananias (different from the one in Acts 5) that the opposite will happen, ‘I will show him how much he must suffer for my name’ (Acts 9.16, NIV).  Paul never describes a change of allegiance from one God to another, but there was a change in that his allegiance is in the same God, but now in Jesus.  On our Disciple Bible Study course this year, one of my fellow Disciple-ers pointed out that Saul’s personality hadn’t even changed:  he was still very zealous in his commitment and single minded.

Instead of the story of a sinner looking for happiness in all the wrong places, we see the power of God to reach the world. Not in a way that gives Saul a great story to tell people when they are listening to him.  Saul doesn’t even seem to use it as a means of drawing on heartstrings in order to say, ‘This happened to me and it can happen to you, too.’  God is not reaching out to Saul to save Saul for his own sake (though that happens) or to give him the peace he has always been looking for.  God’s purpose is the same as what he told Abraham ‘I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing’ (Genesis 12.2).   God’s purpose is to save the entire world.  God’s aim is not one sinner on the road, but the all creation.  He wants all to know his love, and Saul, as Paul, will have a big part to play as he takes ‘The Way’ to the Gentiles who have up to now had no part, or at least very little, in the salvation story we hear in the Old Testament.  Saul, the zealous Jew who wants to keep the purity of Judaism free of this ‘Jesus’, will now take the gospel to those who some would see as unclean.  Many commentators on this passage tell us that what we have here is not so much a conversion story, but a call story.  God has enlisted Saul into the ranks of those who will take the message of Jesus’ death and resurrection into the world – and will even suffer the consequences of it.

God does indeed love us individually, but this is not a love to be shared with each of us as the main target individually.  God’s plan is always bigger than that, and for that reason while our faith – our encounter with God – is always personal, it is never private.  It’s meant to be shared with other people – both believers and non-believers.  Each of us has a calling placed on us when we were baptised to be a person who shares our faith with other people. It doesn’t matter if we see a blinding light on the road or if we grow into it over time, like so many that have grown up in the church.  It also isn’t relevant to God whether or not we have some huge, dramatic lifestyle change.  Our calling is still the same – to take the gospel message to those who have not heard it, welcoming them into a new life under the God who walked among us and gave his life for us.

Today’s post is written by the Revd. Gillian Houghton.  Gillian is a minister in the Preston Circuit in Lancashire, England.

Track One Reading:  Acts 8.9-40;  Track Two Reading:  Acts 8.26-40

Have you seen the advert on TV?   It advertises Mastercard and suggests that ‘for everything else, use Mastercard’.   The message is clear, this card can get you everything you need (and probably a whole heap of things you don’t need and can’t afford!).   And that to me is the essence of the differing stories in this chapter of Acts.

In the first account, Simon the magician is so amazed at the power of the Holy Spirit that he wants to buy it – he hasn’t yet understood that the Holy Spirit is of God and is therefore a gift, not a commodity that can be bought.   His reasons for wanting the Holy Spirit also are a little questionable, as if he is hoping that he will become even more well-known if he can pass on the Holy Spirit to others.    As Peter explains to him that this is a gift which cannot be bought, Simon’s heart is changed, the Holy Spirit is already at work in him and he begs Peter to pray for him.

The nameless Ethiopian official approaches the things of God, the good news of Jesus Christ, with much greater humility.   He knows that he doesn’t understand, that this needs explaining, and he listens attentively.   After what must have been quite a lengthy explanation as Philip tells him of the Good News, the Ethiopian’s heart is also changed, the power of the Holy Spirit is at work in him too, and he suggests that he should be baptized.

In a world that is all too self-sufficient and all too dependent on credit cards, it is good to remind ourselves of our dependence on the gracious gift of the Holy Spirit; good to remind ourselves that only God’s good news can satisfy our souls; good to remind ourselves that others need to hear this good news, especially in the run-up to Christmas when so much advertising suggests that all will be well with our lives with this or that gadget.   All will be well with our lives only when we accept, as the Ethiopian did, that we need Christ in our lives, inspiring and empowering us through the Holy Spirit to live as his faithful followers.

Gracious God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, as we read of your Spirit working to change hearts and turn people to you, help us to turn again to you and to commit ourselves to living our lives for you.  As your Holy Spirit inspired and empowered Philip, help us too to share your good news, your love shown in Jesus Christ, with those whom we meet today.   Amen. 

Track One Reading:  Acts 7.44-8.8; Track Two Reading:  Acts 6.8-15, 7.54-8.3

In today’s reading, the opposition to the young church reaches the point I have already mentioned.  The Sanhedrin arrest Stephen, one the ‘The Seven’ chosen as deacons, and in a trial that echoes Luke’s account of Jesus’, the members take him out to stone him.  The church has named him the first martyr.  We usually understand that word to imply death, but the Greek word means ‘witness’.  In death, those whose lives have been taken by those opposed to God have witnessed to the death and resurrection of Jesus.  Their death points to the God whose plan threatens those in power:  whether religious, civil, or any force that oppresses and abuses.

I have never faced the violence that Stephen faced.  Once in high school, I was involved in a discussion on a sensationalist documentary on Satanism that appeared the night before on television.  Some guy in the class, an atheist, later told me that if I ever did anything like that again he would kill me.  I knew that he likely would do nothing, because he really was a nice guy and his Christian girlfriend was a friend of mine.  His threat was as overblown as the documentary, and the whole episode was forgotten.  Beyond that, as my theology grows and my politics began to change from the conservative, Republican beliefs I held, I get laughed at by my friends who still hold those beliefs.  Again, nothing that Stephen faced.  When compared with those in countries where there are those who are murdered for their beliefs, many Christians in the west have little to complain about.  Especially in the US, where Christians still hold a lot of power, it’s difficult to say Christians live with persecution.

Perhaps this is where Stephen’s story causes me to pause.  How do we remember and uphold those who do face violence because of their faith?  Paul’s image of the body of Christ reminds us that when one part of the body hurts, the whole body will hurt.  Our relatively comfortable life in the west leaves me at times with a shot of novocaine that dulls the pain.  Their situations so remote from my own, I live as if I can avoid it.  Their witness, their martyrdom, forces me to remember that our allegiance to Jesus and his kingdom will be at odds with those who want the world run as it always as:  fear and violence.  Their pain is my own, too.

Stories of martyrs get sensationalised over time, whether in the 3rd century like St. Lucy (whose feast day we celebrate this week and whose life is little more than legend) or the last decade like Cassie Bernall (who died in Columbine in 1999, and conflicting reports leave us wondering what happened).  Yet, it’s the witness that all martyrs give that remind us that Jesus’ kingdom is not from this world, but definitely for this world.  This kingdom will transform the earth when what is witnessed to in the lives and deaths of Christians will become evident to all.  This kingdom overturns all our values, as we read about a young man named Saul who approved of Stephen’s death.  Stephen’s death would change this man forever, as Saul will later be transformed by God and make his own witness, taking the gospel to the Gentiles and ultimately to Rome where he dies as a martyr.  In Jesus’ kingdom, even those who do the oppressing can find forgiveness and healing.

If you want to know more about those who are still persecuted, follow these links:

International Day of Prayer for the Persecuted Church
Barnabas Fund

Today’s post is written by the Revd. Kathleen Wood. Kathleen is a minister in the South Ribble Circuit in Lancashire, England.

Track One Reading: Acts 7.17-43; Track Two Reading: Acts 6.1-7

I wonder if you know those light bulb jokes? You know the sort – how many people does it take to change a light bulb? 5. One to hold the bulb and 4 to turn the chair round! How many psychotherapists does it take to change a light bulb? Only one, but the bulb really has to want to change! And of course, the one – how many Methodists does it take to change a light bulb? Change??!!

Some things it seems, never change – here is a story about grumbling in the Church. Life’s not fair say one group – another group is listened to more, and preferred over us. The organisation isn’t right, appoint a Committee!

In the early Church – possibly only its first year, there’s already trouble. The “Hebrew” Christians (those who spoke mostly or only Aramaic) were well settled locals and were cared for under the oversight of “the twelve”. It seems though that “the Hellenists” (those who spoke mostly or only Greek) may have been newer to the community and were feeling left out. Women were often excluded from activities, widows more so (as they had no husband’s family taking care of them) and Hellenist widows were yet more overlooked – or so it felt- when it came to the food distribution.

So the issue is addressed. Perhaps here is a first time to stop and reflect – the issue is addressed. How often do we ignore those who feel that current practice isn’t working? How often do we accuse others of “rocking the boat” and “wanting change for change’s sake” when there really is an issue to be looked into? How often do we ignore those who are “newcomers” (“they’ll learn our ways or leave”)? How often do we ignore those from different social groupings? “They’re not like us, they don’t speak our language; they should learn to fit in; they eat different foods with different spices; they ought to look after themselves or find other family members to look after them. They shouldn’t complain, we’re doing our best”; or even, “it’s our church and we like it this way”. Not hole in the corner stuff for the fist Christian community, but the issue is brought to the twelve and dealt with.

We note too that “The twelve” deal with the issue quickly, sensitively and appropriately. Of course the Hellenist widows can have a full share – even if it means changing the way things are done – there is a principle of love and inclusion here. It seems likely that “the Seven” were all Hellenists (judging by their Greek- sounding names) full of the Spirit of Wisdom; and so they were appointed to care for their own widows at the tables. James D. G. Dunn in his commentary on this passage wonders whether these might have been 7 leaders of 7 house-churches – and hence their swift movement from table-waiting to vigorous Evangelist (especially Stephen and Philip).

Perhaps we shall never know about that – but we do know that this resolution led to a first clear recognition within the Church, of different kinds of ministry. We also read that different believers were called to ministry of the Word (preaching) from those led to ministry of Service (supplying food and shelter). It was impossible for the Twelve to continue to “be all things to all people” – time and gifting left them unequal to the task. So, under God’s guidance, 7 men were set apart by the group to undertake a different ministry.

Setting apart by the laying on of hands was not new to faithful believers from the Jewish faith – Moses had laid hands on Joshua (Num. 27:23) to transfer authority and commission him for his specific tasks. This is the practice which many branches of the Christian Church maintain to this day, seen in the Methodist Church in the Ordinations of Presbyters and Deacons. Changing the way things were done meant that the Church was enabled to grow yet further – and the Word of God continued to spread.

A short prayer:-
Loving, leading God, thank you that you have been with me through my life, whether I recognised you or not.

Loving, leading God, I know that sometimes I am frightened of change. Changes in the people around me, changes in the way I do things, changes in the Church. Forgive me the times when I grumble. Help me, like the Twelve, to be more ready to listen to others than to worry about myself.

Loving, leading God, help me to trust you as I follow you into your future for me. May I see, share in and celebrate opportunities for growth, for compassion and for the spreading of your Word. Amen.

Track One Reading: Acts 6.1-7.16; Track Two Reading: Acts 5.33-42

The persecution against the infant church grows as the Sanhedrin arrest the church leaders. Desperate to find something that will silence these very outspoken women and men, they throw the apostles in prison. Yet, even that cannot stop them. They are miraculously let out of prison and instead of running away they stand in the courtyard for an impromptu preaching service! The Sanhedrin demands to know why their authority was disobeyed. The apostles respond that they serve a different authority,

‘We must obey God rather than any human authority. The God of our ancestors raised up Jesus, whom you had killed by hanging him on a tree. God exalted him at his right hand as Leader and Saviour, so that he might give repentance to Israel and forgiveness of sins. And we are witnesses to these things, and so is the Holy Spirit whom God has given to those who obey him.’

Exasperated, the Sanhedrin discusses what on earth are they to do when one of the Pharisees, who is respected by all people, stands. Gamaliel gives his verdict on this new group, ‘…if this plan or this undertaking is of human origin, it will fail; but if it is of God, you will not be able to overthrow them—in that case you may even be found fighting against God!’ In these words, I hear a challenge and a hope.

First the challenge: How do we talk about ‘success’ in ministry? I place the word in inverted commas (quotes) because in ministry we do not measure ‘success’ in the same way the rest of the world does. The gospel of Acts reflects this when, despite the large numbers added daily, we continue to read that the church was persecuted (as we read in today’s passage). Later, we will read of the opposition to Paul from his fellow Jews, the philosophers in Athens, and the merchants in Ephesus. If universal appeal or even a ‘brand image’ were the goal, then Paul is hardly successful. So, my question I constantly struggle with is how do we measure success? How do I as a minister fight the urge to measure the ‘success’ of my ministry based on how many people come into the pews? How much money we raise? Or even, as McDonald’s does, boast of how many we serve? If numbers aren’t ultimately the final equation, shouldn’t they at least point to something that could be going right or wrong? For instance, a colleague in another circuit pointed out that more people would come to a Church Council or property committee meeting than a Bible Study. What does that say? On the other hand, why do we assume that a church that closes has failed, despite the years previous of serving God – some here for over 100 years? Is ‘failure’ really defined by whether or not a community, having served faithfully for years, chooses to close the building and continue on in another form? How do we see that whether or not what we do is of human origin? This is the challenge of following a messiah who chose to go to the cross rather than call down the angel armies of heaven. The scandal of the cross is just that because to all the world, the cross would look like a failure when in it Christians claim this is our greatest victory and the way God brings reconciliation.

This brings me to the second thing I hear in Gamaliel’s words – I hear hope. Namely, that the work of the church is God’s doing, and the ‘success’ or ‘failure’ of it is not dependent on me or on what our churches do. God is ultimately the one who moves through the Holy Spirit. In the prayer of the church we read in Acts 4, ‘…grant to your servants to speak your word with all boldness, while you stretch out your hand to heal…’ The community recognises that God is the one who will heal and save. They prayed for the courage to preach, not for the power to do the work God will do. This allows us to give ourselves the grace Sarah talked about yesterday: we recognise that we will fail at times, but God’s plan won’t be stopped because of it…nor will God’s love of us be stop because of anything we do. When I struggle with the challenge that Gamaliel’s words bring, I try to focus on the hope that the words offer – namely, that God’s hand will do the healing and there is no need for me (or anyone else) to offer them up as the messiah who will do the saving.

Today’s post is written by Rev. Sarah McGiverin of Durham, North Carolina, USA.

Track One Reading:  Acts 5.17-42;  Track Two Reading:  Acts 5.1-11

What made them do it?  Peter couldn’t understand it.  Ananias and Sapphira didn’t have to sell the field at all.  Once they sold it, they didn’t have to give any money to the Apostles.  Or they could have given part of the money, confessing that it was only part and that they were keeping some for themselves.  “How is it,” Peter asked, “that you have contrived this deed in your heart?”

These days, one of my prayer aids is a book of collected prayers of the Northumbria Community.  Every morning, I am called upon to answer the question “who is it that you seek?” With the words, “[I] seek the Lord our God.”  I am then asked whether I seek God with all my heart, all my soul, all my mind, all my strength – and to each of these four questions, it is suggested that I answer, “Amen.  Lord have mercy.”

I am grateful that they do not suggest that I say, “Yes.”  I wish it were true, by the help of the Holy Spirit, that I was undivided in my seeking after God, that I could say that I was all in, body, mind, and soul.  But “O to Grace how great a debtor daily I’m constrained to be!”  I do well not to forget it – to forget neither the wish to be whole-heartedly God’s, nor my reliance on God’s mercy as a divided person.  I am glad that this prayer book of mine requires that I face this reality squarely every morning.

Every morning, that is, except for those mornings when I blow off my prayers, saying I’ll make up for it later in the day.  Which usually I then fail to do.

Honesty.  I am learning to admit that I fall short in this area.  I can’t say for certain how it is that it became so easy to lie, or how long ago I learned to do it, but it seems like every day at least one thing comes out of my mouth that it is just not true.  It happens without me even thinking about it, usually.  I would like to pretend that these are the “little white lies” that we justify by saying that we are sparing someone’s feelings.  Lies of the “your new haircut looks fantastic” variety.  Which, for the record, are not right either.  But I’m not even bearing false witness on the behalf of others.  Most often, these lies are told to make myself look better.  Holier.  Kinder.  A better parent.  Even lies to make myself look more honest.  Lies that say, “Look at what a terrific Christian I am!”

There is a scene in the movie “About a Boy” where Hugh Grant’s character says something to the effect of, “I never really said that Malcolm was my son exactly… you just believed what you wanted to believe.”  Of course, he has been doing everything to intimate that Malcolm is his son, aside from outright saying, “This is my son Malcolm.”
Not correcting people’s misperceptions of me is another way of lying – especially when I build upon the misperception.  How often do I justfiy myself, saying that I have not lied outright?

I hadn’t really realized these things about myself until recently.   I thought of myself as a basically honest person.  And I am basically honest, usually honest, honest in most everything.  But upon reflection, these are all prettier ways of saying that sometimes I am not honest.  And when I am dishonest, it is usually because I want others to think better of me than I deserve.

My biggest temptation to dishonesty is a sense of competition.  I become so easily envious of the recognition others receive for their virtues.  When faced with someone with seemingly superior credentials, it is so tempting to inflate my own – so tempting to embelish the story I’m telling to make myself look a little more clever, a little kinder, a little more well read, a little more pious.

So back to Peter’s question.  What led Ananias and Sapphira to make such a dishonest plan?  Ananias and Sapphira didn’t just decide to pull off this deception out of the blue.  There was some competition. Going back just 2 verses (to Acts 4:36), we learn that there was this guy named Joseph who sold a field, and gave all the proceeds to the Apostles.  He was given a cool nickname (Barnabas, we are told means “Son of Encouragement”), and a big deal was made over him.  He later becomes a big shot missionary, travelling with Paul himself.

“But,” Luke continues, “a man named Ananias… sold a piece of property… [and] kept back some of the proceeds, and brought only a part and laid it at the Apostles’ feet.”  Luke understands the stories of Ananias and of Barnabas as being connected:  Barnabas had a field, Ananias had a field.  Barnabas sold a field, Ananias sold a field.  Barnabas gave money to the Apostles, Ananias gave money to the Apostles.  Barnabas and Ananias could have had identical stories, except for motivation.  Barnabas gave what he gave out of love and gratitude and trust.  Ananias and Sapphira gave what they gave because they wanted to be noticed, they wanted to be as important as Barnabas.  But we can’t all be Barnabas.

On the face of it, it seems a bitter pill to swallow – we can’t all be the best pray-er, the best giver, the best teacher, the best encourager.  But how much more bitter is it to know that we are only pretending to have the gifts that we are recognized for?  To be waiting to be found out?  To think, “if only people knew me for who I really am, they would not like me as well.  Now that I have suggested that I [pray every day / tithe / love everyone / volunteer regularly at the soup kitchen], if someone were to discover that I don’t really do all that, surely I would die of shame.”

God knows who we really are.  God knows what we really do when we are alone, or when no one is looking.  God knows that we think unkind thoughts or that we were really not too busy to go to Bible study.  And God thought that we were worth dying for.  God knows every shameful thing that I have been trying to hide with my lies, and God thought that I was worth dying for.  God knows every one of your deepest darkest secrets, and God thought that you were worth dying for, too.  Still does.

When we try to deny the truth about ourselves, when we try to make ourselves look better than we are, we are denying the truth about grace, about God’s grace for us.  We are denying that God knows the truth.  (Do we think that God doesn’t know?)  We are denying that what God thinks of us is more important than what anyone else thinks.  Who is there to condemn us but Christ, the one who intercedes for us, the one who died for us while we were yet sinners?

Poor Ananias and Sapphira – they really missed out.  They thought that the appearance of belief was the important thing – they were looking for salvation in the accolades of their community.  They were, as the song goes, “looking for love in all the wrong places.”  Salvation is not found in popularity – even popularity with excellent, holy, Christian people.  Salvation is found in the transforming power of God’s love for us – that “Love Divine, All Loves Excelling.”

I wonder what my life would look like if, instead of lost in my own fears and desires for attention, I were “lost in wonder, love and praise?”  I wonder what a congregation filled with such people would look like?  Amen.  Lord have mercy.