Speak Up Acts 5:27-32 Rev. Brett Hendrickson April 11, 2010 * 2nd Sunday of Easter In the church, it is not that uncommon to feel some serious relief when Easter is finally over. Since around Thanksgiving, it seems like the church has been in high festival gear. First it was Advent and then both the wonder and the craziness of Christmas. Then it’s New Years and Epiphany and Transfiguration and before you know it Lent has begun. At long last, we get to the joyous brightness of Easter Sunday, and then, maybe, we can sit back and catch our breath. But hold on, don’t get too comfortable! The Resurrection may have occurred, but Easter has just begun. As I’m sure you know, Easter is also its own season in the church, the fifty days between the Resurrection and Pentecost. It’s a season because we need some well-defined time to be reminded what it means to live as a church of the Risen Christ. It’s a time when we contemplate just what sort of challenge has been placed upon us with the new life given to us on Easter. It took the disciples some time to get this straight. They move from a state of shock and fear at the end of the gospels to being the bold proclaimers of the cross in the readings we will hear from Acts. In the season of Easter, I will be drawing our attention to Bible readings from the book of Acts wherein we see what the apostles do as a Resurrection Church. We will consider for ourselves what it means that we, too, are a church that has been given new life in our resurrected Jesus. So let me set the scene. Jesus rose with new life from the tomb. He appeared to various disciples and followers and then ascended into heaven. Shortly thereafter, his promise to send a helper came true, and the Holy Spirit came to guide and embolden those earliest of Christians. In those days after the Spirit descended on the apostles and other followers of Jesus, Peter and the others spent their days preaching the good news in and around Jerusalem. Now remember, that same kind of preaching is what recently got Jesus killed, and the political situation had not changed much. Peter and the other early preachers found themselves, as a result, in and out of jail. A few verses before our reading from Acts this morning, the apostles had been thrown into prison by the high priest and other temple leaders. At their conviction, as you can imagine, they are instructed not to teach any more in Jesus’ name. Now, that’s important. That was their first instruction: stop teaching and preaching about Jesus, or else. And the instruction came from one of the greatest authorities over them—it came from their priest. But an angel came and sprung them out of jail and told them, “Go, stand in the temple and tell the people the whole message about this life.” This is also important. This is their second instruction. It comes from God through the message of an angel. The apostles are in that unique situation in which two absolutely contradictory messages from two different authority figures have been issued. They must choose. Peter, hopefully speaking for all of us in the whole church voices their decision: “We must obey God rather than any human authority.” God’s instruction, which remains on us even in this very instant, was to tell the story of life. That’s why Easter is not over. It is not enough to have new life, we must also tell the story. With Peter and the rest of Jesus’ followers, we say: “The God of our ancestors raised up Jesus, whom you had killed by hanging him on a tree. 31God exalted him at his right hand as Leader and Savior that he might give repentance to Israel and forgiveness of sins. 32And we are witnesses to these things, and so is the Holy Spirit whom God has given to those who obey him.” For Peter and the rest, there may have been two commands issued to them, but there really was no choice. It was a no-brainer. God’s authority trumps all others. One commentator on this passage aptly notes that, “At this point, when the high priest forbids Peter to witness, he might as well have been forbidding Peter to breathe.” One is reminded of Jesus’ own words on Palm Sunday and his triumphal entry into Jerusalem. The powers that be on that day also asked Jesus to silence the crowds that were responding to God’s authority. Jesus, if you recall, replied that even if the crowds were silent, the stones themselves would shout out. This message, this story, is absolutely unstoppable. Fine, then. It’s unstoppable. Then why do we manage to stop the good news so much? What’s going on here? Why are there authorities and powers in our lives that so often seem to step right in front of God’s authority and make us put a lid on the story of new life? Well, maybe Peter’s radicalism feels uncomfortable to us. Peter is so out there. Do you remember the radical movements that shook this country in the 1960s into the ‘70s. There is a quote attributed to one of the mouthpieces of the counterculture movement, Timothy Leary. Leary said, “Think for yourself and question authority.” The phrase has been shortened and printed ad infinitum on t-shirts and bumper stickers: Question Authority! On first blush, the apostles seem to be this kind of radical. They are bucking the system. And you know, there are radicals on both the right and the left—the tactics are basically the same: take the streets, protest, make noise, refuse to be kowtowed by threats, question authority. Now, maybe you are saying, if that’s what it takes to get out the message of new life, then I’m not the one for this. I’m not a rabble rouser. I’m not up to standing on the street shouting. I might question authority now and then, but that is not a phrase that I can live by at every moment. Well’s that’s ok. The text from Acts shows us that the apostles were not out there to question authority. They weren’t trying to get under the skin of the temple priests or the Romans. Far from questioning authority, they were utterly obedient to God’s authority. God said, Go and share the good news about Jesus and the life he brings. If they seem radical, it is not because of their desire to protest; it is because new life itself always radically challenges the mortal powers of this world. Ok, how else might we try to stop this message if we can’t hide behind the fact that we don’t want to be radical. Maybe we secretly (or not so secretly) find some other story more compelling or more authoritative than the story that the angel tells the apostles to share. This is especially true and especially dangerous for those of us who are comfortable in the world as it is currently constituted. Those of us who would normally benefit from the powers of the courts and of the stock market and of the university and of the banks and of the government—we are the ones who must be most on guard. Are we not telling the story of new life in Jesus because other authorities in our lives have been so good to us? That question could be a whole sermon in itself, but suffice it to say that we have been claimed by faith. We are a church who serves the Risen Lord. We must not capitulate to that which would hush us. Faith in the resurrection, sealed on our hearts by the Spirit, is impossible to hush. Each of us and all of us must constantly renew our confidence and commitment in God’s authority. Even if that means that we must weaken our confidence and commitments to all other authorities that would make claim on us. So, if we can’t step aside from our responsibility to tell the story of new life either for worry of being too radical or from misplaced allegiance to worldly institutions, then what other excuse might we make. We might say that we don’t know what to say. I am consistently surprised and concerned that even lifelong Christians are often unable to articulate much at all about their faith in God. Can you tell me right now what it is that you think Jesus’ death on the cross and resurrection from the tomb means for you? What does it mean for the world? What does it mean for those who suffer? What does it mean for Alton? Do you have the words? Peter and the apostles were told by the angel to share the message of life. Do you know what that message is so that you can share it? One of my favorite Lenten hymns is “O Sacred Head, Now Wounded.” The third stanza begins: “What language shall I borrow to thank thee, dearest friend?” It’s a haunting question that indicates that whatever language we have at our disposal will be inadequate to speak truly of God. We must borrow God’s language if we are to get anywhere near sharing the utter bliss and joy of life lived in Christ. Pastor Michael Krech reminds us, however, that it is the church’s job to equip all of us with the language to share this message. Speaking specifically about the role of preaching, he writes, “preaching is not saying what people want to hear; it is saying what people want to say. Beneath their roles as lay leaders of an “institution,” and even beneath the personal burdens they bear, people keep coming to church every Sunday to hear a truth that no one else will tell them. Ours is a deep truth, which when spoken with love and with conviction has the power to transform burdens and transcend everyday life. Those who listen to [this story of new life] hunger for living expression of the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit.” There’s the challenge, and there’s the reward. The one authority that really has authority, God Almighty, has called us to share the life we have in Christ. No reluctance on our part, no interference or temptation from other authorities, and no excuse that we don’t have the words to express how we feel will cut it. With Peter, we must speak this love, we must proclaim this life, we must share this truth as if doing so were as necessary to us as taking a breath. The story is unstoppable. And for that reason, my friends, Easter is not over.
Rev. Brett HendricksonApril 18, 2010 * 3rd Sunday of Easter
Not long after my wife Alex and I took our first church in rural Kentucky, we joined the local ministerial association.This association, like many in small towns, was somewhat lop-sided.On the one hand, there were the pastors from the mainline denominations: the Presbyterians, the Methodists, the Catholic priests.On the other hand, there were several older gentlemen who had been serving country churches their whole lives.These churches swung more toward evangelicalism, and one of their primary purposes was to save souls.To this end, their services included frequent altar calls, and at least twice a year, each of these little churches would host a tent revival with weeklong preaching and the conversion of many lost souls and the reinstatement of many backsliders.In addition to their own revival services, these men participated in the aforementioned ministerial association and helped organize several community-wide services in our little town throughout the year.
Well, it paid to be present at the meetings when these worship services were planned and the various assignments were handed out.Months after we arrived, I was (in absentia) assigned to “give testimony.”Now, if you are a lifelong Presbyterian, like I more or less am, you may have no idea what it means to “give testimony.”You would know what to do if you were assigned to lead the prayer of confession, or to lead the Apostles’ Creed.You would know how to preach a sermon, or lead the people in intercessory prayer.But “give testimony”?Now, if you grew up in a more evangelical church, you know exactly what this means.When you give testimony, you see, you testify about that moment in your life when God lifted you out of sin and impurity and saved your soul.You give testimony about that moment when you were saved, when you finally realized that you need to turn your life over to Jesus and nothing was again the same for you.To give testimony is an honor—you get to share how you were saved in hopes that it will inspire others to also get saved.Now, growing up in a town in Arkansas that had two southern Baptist churches, one Church or Christ, and one Assemblies of God, I did in fact know what it meant to give testimony.But, as you might guess, I had no testimony to give.Like many of you, I grew up in the church.I have always believed in the saving power of Jesus Christ in my life, and I never experienced a moment of conversion that I can identify as the moment I was “saved.”In other words, like many Presbyterians, Catholics, Methodists, and even Baptists, I never had a Damascus road experience like Paul. As one pastor explains her own experience of Christianity, it has been like a budding flower.It’s impossible to pinpoint when the bud is a flower and no longer a bud, but the whole process is full of beauty.
Perhaps you have heard the question:“When were you saved?”Of course, some of you might have had a conversion like that, where you can say with confidence that you became a Christian and knew Jesus in your life.But, as I say, most of us have not had such a conversion.Growing up in the Bible belt, I was instructed by my youth director to tell other kids who asked about when I was saved to respond, “2000 years ago.”Such an answer is only partly satisfying, though, because it’s not really true.We may not all get conversion like Paul on the road to Damascus, but we all experience conversion.And we all need conversion.As Emilie Griffin has noted, “It is clear that conversion begins with a restlessness of the human heart that can find no resting place on earth.”And so it is:the common denominator of our conversion stories is that we have a hunger and restlessness for God.We have an urge that only God can fill.But that’s perhaps the extent of the commonality.After that, conversion is not one-size-fits-all.
Our passage from Acts certainly shows us that conversion is a multi-faceted and often personal process.On the road to Damascus to persecute Christians, Saul is literally blinded by the light.One of my favorite authors, Flannery O’Connor, explains it:“I reckon the Lord knew that the only way to make a Christian out of that one was to knock him off his horse.”And Saul’s response fits his particular conversion.From the dust of the road, he asks, “Who are you, Lord?”
But Saul/Paul is not the only one who experiences conversion in this passage.The faithful Christian, Ananias, also requires a change of heart and a quickening of his faith.But his conversion is so different from Paul’s.When God comes to speak to him, he responds, “Here I am, Lord.”He seems ready to do what God asks; he seems immediately obedient and ready.But when God asks him to go and care for Saul, Ananias actually argues with God.He says, “Lord, I have heard from many about this man, how much evil he has done to your saints in Jerusalem; and here he has authority from the chief priests to bind all who invoke your name.”It’s like he’s saying, “But God, haven’t you heard that this guy is here in Damascus to oppress and even kill people like me?Are you absolutely sure you haven’t got the wrong guy?”But Ananias is converted.After a short back-and-forth with God, his heart is again changed to greater faithfulness and more complete obedience.So we get two models for conversion:the one is the moment of insight that changes everything; the other is the continual refashioning of the person of faith as he or she comes closer and closer to perfect love and faith.
In both of these kinds of conversions, God starts the conversation and the convert responds with the help of the Christian community.Latin American theologian Elsa Tamez sees conversion as a partnership between the divine and the human.She writes, “Conversion is a gift of God because it shows us the way and invites us to enter the world of freedom, the world of life.But at the same time conversion is a human task, because it demands of us an individual and collective commitment to the building of the world.”That’s perhaps why we read of Saul’s conversion to a the Christian Paul in the weeks of Easter.As individuals and as a community of believers, we are celebrating that we have new life in the Risen Christ.But we are also wondering what the implications of that new life are.And clearly, one of the implications is that we will be converted, that we will accept that gift and challenge from God to be changed.Paul is changed and becomes the greatest evangelist of the early church.Ananias is changed to provide a community of support and radical acceptance that makes Paul’s work possible.Both move toward God.
What sort of conversion do you need this Easter?Do you need to get knocked off your horse?Do you find your need in a major retooling of your life?Do you need a total reversal?Are you here this morning wondering what it is you are doing and how you are going to continue?Or, are you more like Ananias? Are you not completely able to understand the big job God has called you to?Do you need to have a little discussion, a little argument with God to get yourself converted to where you need to be?Do you need some nudging so that you will continue to be surprised by God’s incredible and abundant grace and love?
Either way, even we cold-blooded lifelong Presbyterians have a testimony to give.Our God has engaged us with love and with life.You know the old verse, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son that whosoever believes in him may not perish but have everlasting life.”God loved the world and gave us Jesus, the Christ, the one who gives us life unspeakable and a story unstoppable.May this fine day in the Easter season find you once again responding to God’s call with a change in your life.May this day find us all once again converting to the way of God.
Let us pray:“God of grace and glory, you have called us by name and you have called us as your people.Grant us the courage to answer your call and help one another to step toward you with “yes” on our lips.In the name of the resurrected Christ we pray.Amen.
