Saturday, November 17, 2012

Thanksgiving Meal



I Corinthians 11:17-32

Textual Introduction:   I saw a new book the other day called The Upside Down Church.  It might seem as if we are having an upside down church service but we want you to help focus your gratitude as we approach Thanksgiving.[1]

Our goal fits my text.  Paul uses some strong language in this text.  That language reflects his response to the behavior of some of the Corinthians during the celebration of the Lord’s Supper.  Their behavior proved that the Corinthians had forgotten the very meaning of the Supper.  Paul wanted them to remember.

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Think about a meal you remember.  Maybe you remember it because of the circumstances.  Maybe it was your first meal at home after being away on a battlefield.  Maybe it was your first meal in a foreign country. 

At the mission program last Wednesday we talked about China.  I recalled a meal where I ate what I remember as the best Chinese food I’ve ever eaten.  It was at the lawn bowling club in Tumut, New South Wales, Australia.

Some memories of meals aren’t so great.  I regularly drive past a restaurant where the one and only time I ate there I became deathly sick.  I wavered between fearing I would die and fearing I wouldn’t. 

The Lord’s Supper isn’t a meal designed to be remembered.  After all, bread and wine aren’t particularly memorable.  It is a meal designed to inspire memories.  And those memories should inspire our thanksgiving.

Millions of Christians around the world refer to the Lord’s Supper or Communion as the “Eucharist.”  The term is from a Greek word that means “to give thanks.”

On the night before his crucifixion Jesus asked his followers to “remember” him.  To help them remember he established a memorial, not of marble or granite, but a simple meal, the sharing of bread and wine. 

In this situation, he said, “Remember me.”   The idea is that they were to remember him and to remember what he was about to accomplish.  Just as the old Passover meal was a reminder of what happened in the Exodus--that wondrous event in which God set the Jewish people free from slavery in Egypt--this new ceremony would remind God’s new people of what Jesus accomplished.  And what he accomplished could not have been accomplished had he not been who he was.

This is why Paul stresses the importance of a proper, reverent attitude toward this celebration.  Otherwise a person might be guilty of “… trifling with the death of Christ.”  You see, in religion after religion, men had died for God, but now God was dying for men.

This meal take’s its significance from the identity of the one who initiated it.  With that in mind, we can better understand what Jesus was asking us to remember.  And, why as we remember we should be inspired to give thanks.

Jesus was saying, “As you remember, give thanks for I have given you a new freedom.”

Some fifteen hundred years before Jesus initiated what we call the Lord’s Supper, his people—the Jewish people—were slaves in Egypt.  They were abused and misused; at times their very existence seemed threatened.  Then, in a serious of miraculous acts God set them free.   God’s final act of liberation was known as the Exodus.  For centuries Jews have remembered the Exodus in the Passover.

Good Jews, Jesus and his disciples celebrated the Passover.  It’s important to keep that in mind when we realize that Jesus deliberately chose to associate the new rite he was initiating with the Passover meal.  Just as the Passover meal recalled God’s liberating the Jewish people from slavery, so does the Lord’s Supper remind us of Jesus’ liberating activity.

As he initiated this rite, Jesus was about to win new freedom for all of us.  Through him we have freedom from sin’s power, freedom from the fear of death, freedom from whatever keeps us from being all God wants us to be. 

It’s crucial to remember that Jesus was able to give this new freedom because he had given himself.  Each year at the Passover season the Jews offered the sacrifice of a lamb to deal with their sins.  The writer of Hebrews tells us that this sacrifice was ultimately ineffective to permanently deal with the problem of sin.  Then he reminds us that Jesus did provide the “better” sacrifice, one which did fully and completely deal with our sins.

Jesus apparently did not refer to himself as a Passover lamb, but the language he uses suggests that his death would be on behalf of others.  That much is clear when he said of the bread, “This is my body which is broken for you.”


Back in 1836, the Texans at San Jacinto cried, “Remember the Alamo” to remind themselves of those who had died so they might be politically free.  Paul might have urged the Christians to cry, “Remember the Cross!” so they could be reminded of One who died so they could be spiritually free.

As we participate in this meal, we ought to remember his sacrifice and give thanks for our new freedom.

Jesus was saying, “As you remember, give thanks for I have given you a new relationship with God.”

William Barclay’s translation captures an important element in what Jesus has to say, “In the same way, after the meal, he took the cup and said, ‘This cup is the new covenant and it cost my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, so that you will remember me.’“

Barclay explains that the preposition usually translated as “in” can, when translating Aramaic—the language Jesus was speaking—mean at the cost or price of.    He goes on to say:

Now a covenant is a relationship entered into between two people. There was an old covenant between God and man and that old relationship was based on law. In it God chose and approached the people of Israel and became in a special sense their God; but there was a condition, that, if this relationship was going to last, they must keep his law. (Compare Exo.24:1-8). With Jesus a new relationship is opened to man, dependent not on law but on love, dependent not on man's ability to keep the law--for no man can do that--but on the free grace of God's love offered to men.


  Under the old covenant a man could do nothing other than fear God for he was ever in default since he could never perfectly keep the law; under the new covenant he comes to God as a child to a father. However you look at things, it cost the life of Jesus to make this new relationship possible.


This Lord’s Supper reminds us that God cared enough to become involved in the lives of his creatures.  He is not remote, far-off, or unapproachable. 

As we celebrate this Lord’s Supper we ought to remember why we have a new relationship with God and be thankful.

Jesus was saying, “As you remember, give thanks for I have brought you into a new family.”

Passover in the Jewish community is a great time for the family.  Parents and children play games and sing songs, helping them remember God’s action on their behalf.

The Lord’s Supper is a time for the family to celebrate as well.  This is because Jesus’ actions not only made it possible for us to have a new relationship with God, it made possible for us to have a new relationship with each other.

Thanksgiving is a time for families.  Family members will travel thousands of miles to spend a few days together, reminisce, and eat mom’s turkey—whether mom roasted it herself or bought it at the supermarket.

 We have a kinship with other believers wherever they may be around the world.

This is another reason why Paul was so incensed at the behavior of the Corinthians.  The Corinthian church was filled with cliques and factions.  Each thought it was better, more spiritual than the other.  Wealthier members flaunted their wealth before their poorer brothers and sisters at what were supposed to be meals celebrating the love they were to have for one another.   No wonder Paul warned them of dire consequences if they continued down that path.

Instead, he invited them—and us—to be thankful for the community we have found in Jesus Christ.

--In Christ we have an opportunity to leave the world of loneliness and isolation to join a community which embraces us with warmth and care.

--In Christ we have brothers and sisters to help us bear the burdens life puts on us.

--In Christ we have been welcomed into a family which seeks to affirm and encourage us, a family which may be unlike any other family we’ve ever known.

--In Christ we have been welcomed into family which, at its healthiest, has members who can’t be identified by color of skin, hair, or eyes, aren’t linked by social or economic status, don’t share common language or cultural heritage.  Instead, the members of this family are identified by such traits as love, joy, peace—traits which make them resemble Jesus Christ.

As we remember that Jesus has called us into such a wonderful family, we should be thankful.

Jesus was saying, “As you remember, give thanks for I have given you a new future.”

Luke reports that on the night Jesus instituted the Lord’s Supper he said,

14 When the time came, Jesus and the apostles were sitting at the table. 15 He said to them, “I wanted very much to eat this Passover meal with you before I suffer. 16 I will not eat another Passover meal until it is given its true meaning in the kingdom of God.”[2]


Jesus was looking ahead to the great Messianic banquet that would celebrate the coming of the Kingdom in its fullness.

Paul probably had this in mind when he told the Corinthians that “Every time you eat this bread and drink this cup you are telling others about the Lord’s death until he comes.”[3]   Paul knew the Christians at Corinth shared the common hope of Christ’s return.  That view of the future has been embraced in every major creed and by every generation of Christians. 

But I want to focus on two implications of Paul’s comment. 

First, the Lord’s Supper is part of the ongoing task of the church proclaiming the death of Christ and its significance.  The cross is ever at the center of the church’s proclamation.   It tells of God’s commitment to humanity.  It explains how God dealt with the problem of sin, the problem we could never deal with on our own.  The resurrection confirms the promise of salvation to those who trust Christ.

That Paul might encourage the church to tell the story of Christ’s death isn’t surprising.  After all, earlier he told the Corinthians, “I decided that while I was with you I would forget about everything except Jesus Christ and his death on the cross.”[4]  It’s the next implication that gets our attention.  

Paul suggests the time will come when the church would no longer celebrate this rite, the Lord’s Supper.  Why not?

Let me offer an analogy.  On our refrigerator at home we have several pictures of our grandson Kieran; we have pictures on our i-Phones, too.  (We’ve made you look at some of those.)  Anyway, those pictures remind us of Kieran.

Now, very soon we’re going to go to Austin to see David, Kelly, and Kieran, of course.  Now, while were down there with Kieran we’ll be playing with him, taking him to toy stores, eating with him, and just enjoying getting to know him.  But suppose we spent our time in Austin using those pictures to remind us of Kieran.  That would be silly if the boy was right there in front of us.  

The Lord’s Supper is a reminder of who Jesus is and what he has done for us.  But the time is coming when we won’t need a reminder for we will be in his presence.  

Conclusion

 Occasionally, we see visitors from Quebec driving in the area.  You’ll notice the words Je me souviens.  The idea is that the French Canadians remember who they are, that they have a French rather than a British heritage.  The motto is on the official seal of Quebec,

The Lord’s Supper invites each of us to say “I remember.”

--I remember I once was lost but now I am found.

--I remember I am debtor to all those who sacrificed to bring the Gospel to my people—whether I am of German, Italian, Indian, English, Irish, African, Scandinavian, Filipino, or some other heritage.

--I remember I have brothers and sisters of every economic, political, and cultural background.

--I remember I have an obligation to my brothers and sisters in Christ yet to be born, an obligation to help the church remain faithful to its Lord though the form of their church may differ from than that of my church.

--I remember I have the privilege of inviting my relatives, my neighbors, my coworkers to this Lord’s Table for there is room for all who will trust Christ.

--And as I remember all these things, I remember I should thank God for my place at this table.







[1]  This morning’s church service began with the sermon and concluded with congregational singing, a reversal of our usual pattern.


[2] The Everyday Bible: New Century Version. 2005 (Lk 22:14–16). Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson, Inc.


[3] The Everyday Bible: New Century Version. 2005 (1 Co 11:25–26). Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson, Inc.


[4] The Everyday Bible: New Century Version. 2005 (1 Co 2:2). Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson, Inc.

Saturday, November 10, 2012

Barriers Down


 

 
Acts 10

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Have you heard about the marriage of Sybil Crawley and Tom Branson?  It probably raised a few eyebrows.  If you don’t know Sybil and Tom, that’s okay.  They’re fictional characters, though some folks may think of them as real.  They are from the PBS series Downton Abbey.  Sybil is Lady Sybil, daughter of the very British Earl of Grantham, and Tom is the chauffeur.  To make matters worse, he’s Irish.

You don’t have to be British to understand that the marriage faces just a few barriers. 

If you can picture that, you can begin to understand the episode recorded by Luke in Acts ten and eleven. 

It is the longest narrative in the Book of Acts, a fact which shows its importance to Luke’s purpose.  This passage illustrates Luke’s view of the faith which focused on Jesus of Nazareth, the faith preached by the apostles all over the Roman Empire and beyond, the faith for which Paul was on trial in Rome as Luke wrote.  Leon Morris says, “There is no question for Luke that Christianity was no tiny Jewish sect; instead, it was a religion in which people from every nation would have their place.”[1]

Of course, Luke knew that not every Christian believed that, especially in the early days of the church.  This story tells about how the final barrier was assaulted and overcome, the outreach to the Gentiles.  Important issues remained to be resolved but the most important step had been taken.

As we review the story we’ll find it says a lot to us.  We’ll discover how we, as Christ’s people doing Christ’s work, can begin to reach out to world of many cultures.  With that in mind, let’s look at the story.

A Story of Two Men

This is the story of two men.

Cornelius

The chapter begins by introducing us to a Roman centurion named Cornelius.  As important as he is in Luke’s story of the early church we don’t know a lot about him.  But let’s review what we know for sure and what we can safely deduce from the text.

--He was a centurion in the Italian Regiment.  This regiment was made up exclusively of men who were from Italy.  Like military personnel before and after him have found themselves to be, he was a stranger in a strange land.

--He was a centurion and that says a lot.  Several centurions are mentioned in the New Testament and whenever they are mentioned it is in a good light.  Simply put, a centurion had command of a hundred foot soldiers.  But often their responsibilities went beyond that.  One writer says, “The centurions were the actual working officers, the backbone of the army.  The discipline and efficiency of the legion as a fighting unit depended on them.

The rank of centurion was the highest rank which a commoner in the army could reach.  Most were career men and many served beyond the required twenty years.  They were chosen upon merit rather than accident of birth.

The Roman historian Polybius says this about the centurion:

"Centurions are required not to be bold and adventurous so much as good leaders, of steady and prudent mind, not prone to take the offensive or start fighting wantonly, but able when overwhelmed and hard-pressed to stand fast and die at their post"

Cornelius came from this group.

--Cornelius was a man of moral courage and integrity.  Many officers in the Roman army were committed to the mystery religions, those strange religions involving secret rites and sacrifices.  Others worshipped the Roman gods.  In any case, it took courage for Cornelius to align himself with the Jews, a group who were often despised in the Roman world. 

Cornelius apparently came to embrace the Jewish ethical ideal and world view.  He was not a proselyte in the formal sense.  He had not been circumcised and probably hadn’t accepted the Jewish dietary rules but he was openly sympathetic with the Jewish law and ethical standards.

And, having concluded that this was a right and proper way to live, he began to order his life accordingly.  His was no nominal commitment.  His life of good works figures prominently in this story.  Luke tells us that he was “a devout man who feared God with his entire household, gave alms generously to the people, and prayed continually to God.” Acts 10:2 (ESV) His commitment extended to his purse and to his knees.

He is a reminder that spiritual hunger may be found it the most unexpected places?

--Cornelius appears to have been an influence for good in the lives of others.  His household believed.  This might have included any family members who were with him.  It would have also included any personal servants who were part of his home.  Later in the text there’s a reference to “a devout soldier” who was one of his aids. 

I can’t help but picture these servants and that soldier quietly watching Cornelius as he daily carried out his tough assignments.  They would have seen him as he led and sometimes disciplined the soldiers under his command.   It would have been in these circumstances that they would have seen just how much his new religion made a difference in his life. 

This is the first character in this pivotal story.  The next is an old friend.

Peter

Peter had been ministering in the ancient city of Lydda when he received an urgent call to come to the seacoast town of Joppa about five miles away.  A beloved woman named Tabitha had died and the disciples there had sent for Peter, hoping he could somehow help.  Peter prayed for her and, in a stunning display of God’s power, she was raised from the dead.  This led to further ministry and conversions.  Peter settled in Joppa for a while in the home of Simon the Tanner.  It was while in Joppa that his ministry took an unexpected turn—unexpected to Peter but not to the perceptive observer of the church.

I don’t have to tell you a lot about Peter.  He’s probably the most famous of the twelve apostles.  For most of his early life he probably never ventured far from his native Bethsaida, growing up to become a fisherman on the Sea of Galilee. 

He probably received the rudiments of education but was, by no means, a Torah scholar.  When his opponents later described him as “uneducated” they were absolutely correct because they were referring to the fact he had no specialized theological training.  He did, however, apparently share one of the most widely held perspectives within Palestinian Judaism.  Peter had an evident disdain for gentiles, for non-Jews.  He carried that viewpoint into adulthood, a viewpoint which revealed itself in a refusal to even sit down for a simple meal with a gentile. (It was one thing to deal with Samaritans, after all , they had a Jewish background but Gentiles were a different matter.}

 You see, Peter had a “proper upbringing” but sometimes those who have had such an upbringing have little regard for those who didn’t; even if those who had the wrong upbringing had it through no fault of their own, even if those with the wrong upbringing were doing their best to search for the light.

As a young adult Peter came under the influence of John the Baptist and, through his testimony and that of his own brother Andrew, became a disciple of Jesus.  In all the lists of the apostles in the New Testament, Peter’s name is always first.  The gospels reveal him as one who was, at times, amazingly insightful and, more often, something of a slow learner.  His mouth would frequently get him into trouble.  Yet, Peter witnessed the work of the most remarkable Man who ever lived.  Peter was there on the Mount of Transfiguration, he watched as Jesus strolled on the waters of the Sea of Galilee (he joined him for a while but it was an embarrassing moment), he helped as Jesus served thousands with a skimpy lunch loaned by an awestruck child, and he was privileged to watch Jesus raise a twelve-year-old girl from the dead.  You can’t help but wonder if that event was on his mind as he stood by Tabitha’s bedside.  Thankfully, Peter eventually learned what Jesus wanted to teach him but the lessons often required some powerful visual aids. 

So, if Peter’s experiences were not as cosmopolitan as those of Cornelius, he had seen things which the centurion had never seen and which none of us have ever seen.  Before this story is finished Peter would see something he never expected to see.  The story goes on to speak of …

Two Visions

There was a vision which encouraged (10:1-7). 

Although not a Jewish convert, Cornelius was probably familiar with the Old Testament stories of angelic visits to various people.  Still, no amount of reading could prepare him for the sight of that angel who appeared to him during his regular time of prayer.  Cornelius was terrified to begin with, and then the angel gave him a message which was both encouraging and puzzling.  The angel said, "Your prayers and your alms have ascended as a memorial before God.  [5] And now send men to Joppa and bring one Simon who is called Peter.  [6] He is lodging with one Simon, a tanner, whose house is by the seaside." 

The message was encouraging because it confirmed that God was aware of his devotion.  He had not just been engaged in an exercise in futility.  God had heard his prayers; God had seen his simple acts of devotion.  Never mind that he was only a gentile, God had welcomed his worship, welcomed it as he would welcome a sacrifice offered in the temple—the temple which Cornelius, the gentile, was not allowed to enter.

The message must have also been puzzling.  After all, who was Peter?  Why did God want him to invite this stranger to his home?  This is pure speculation but maybe it had to do with the content of Cornelius’s prayers.  Had he been praying for more light?  Had he sought a deeper, richer relationship with God?  Were these the subjects of his prayers?  We don’t know but, if this is what he sought, his prayers were about to be answered.

At this point, it might be appropriate to deal with some questions raised by this story.  The first question could be framed like this, “Did God give Cornelius salvation because of his good works?”

In this chapter and the next there are several references to Cornelius’s good works; this has prompted some to ask if God was rewarding Cornelius with salvation.  If so, it would seem to deny the consistent New Testament teaching that salvation is by grace, not works.

Keep in mind that what’s described here is by no means normative.  The vast majority of the evangelistic encounters in Act took place as Jesus’ followers faithfully preached the gospel wherever they happened to be.  The evangelists and the listeners didn’t get together because of specific invitations issued by angels.

We also can’t just isolate Cornelius from the gallery of individual conversions described in the Book of Acts.  We see the pious and the impious, the good and the bad, the weak and the powerful responding to the gospel.  Rabbinical scholars and coarse jailers were changed by the power of God.  A saintly business woman and a formerly demonized slave girl probably shared the same baptismal waters.  The gospel message of grace was needed by all of these men and women.

Whatever the emphasis upon Cornelius’s good deeds may mean, it’s clear they were not sufficient to bring him into a satisfying, saving relationship with God.  Good as he was, he needed to hear the gospel. This story may be teaching us that those who sense their need for God and respond with a sincere search are more likely to be open to the revelation of the Truth.  Cornelius was on his knees that day in Caesarea, not because he was spiritually satisfied, but because he knew there was more he needed.

A second question sometimes asked is this, “Why didn’t the angel simply proclaim the gospel to Cornelius?” 

The simple answer seems to be this: The gospel has always come through human agencies.

A comment by Chris Baker on the human role in evangelism gives a more detailed answer.

“There is no case on record in which the truth of about God and salvation has come to men other than through human agency.  In human agency we include the Bible, for that has been penned, translated, printed, and circulated by men.  It is a tremendous privilege that God has conferred upon us in making us the channels of the knowledge of His will to our fellow-men.  But the privilege is a great responsibility.  It means that there are people in the world who will not know the truth if we do not take it or send it to them.  Every one of us must take a share in the work, for it is committed to the whole body.”

Cornelius responded to the vision with simple obedience.  He sent some of his best people to Joppa to bring Peter for their appointment.

There was a vision that inspired.  (10:8-19). 

Back in Joppa, Peter was continuing his visit with Simon the Tanner.  The fact he stayed with Simon has raised some questions because tanning was considered to be a scandalous profession for a Jew.  Because he was in constant contact with dead animals the tanner was often ritually unclean.  Yet, Peter was staying with Simon whose home was outside town near the sea, a location chosen because of the foul smells associated with tanning.

Why did Peter stay with him?  I don’t know.  The answer may lie in the instructions Jesus gave his disciples when he sent them out on their very first preaching mission.  He told them to stay with the first people who offered them hospitality. 

In any case, one day about noon, Peter was on the flat roof of the house praying, praying while he waited for lunch.  Here’s the story again.

    The next day as Cornelius’s messengers were nearing the town, Peter went up on the flat roof to pray. It was about noon,  and he was hungry. But while a meal was being prepared, he fell into a trance.
           He saw the sky open, and something like a large sheet was let down by its four corners.
In the sheet were all sorts of animals, reptiles, and birds.
         Then a voice said to him, “Get up, Peter; kill and eat them.”
         “No, Lord,” Peter declared. “I have never eaten anything that our Jewish laws have declared impure and unclean.”
           But the voice spoke again: “Do not call something unclean if God has made it clean.”

           The same vision was repeated three times. Then the sheet was suddenly pulled up to heaven.
            Peter was very perplexed. What could the vision mean? Just then the men sent by Cornelius found Simon’s house. Standing outside the gate, they asked if a man named Simon Peter was staying there. (Acts 10:10-17)

 

Peter had to learn a whole new way of thinking.  This was the starting point.  The word “perplexed” (v. 17), literally means he was “at a loss” or puzzled, and is used because the command seemed to go against all he had ever been taught.  My menu this past week would have once identified me as a reprobate to Peter.  In the past few days I’ve had a cheeseburger and some pork sausage gravy, just to mention a couple items.  Peter, a good Jew, would have never ordered such food.

Of course, the vision wasn’t really about the proper menu for a Christian.  It was about something more profound.  It was about a new way to see people.  Peter was about to discover that.

In a manner appropriate to approaching a Jewish house, the visitors called out to the owner and when he answered they asked if Peter was staying there.  Of course, the men meet Peter and explain the   purpose of their visit.  For Peter, his vision began to make sense.  It had been several years since Peter had heard Jesus tell his people they would be his witnesses to the ends of the  earth, now the next steps toward making that a reality were about to be taken.  Of course, Peter was still just a little foggy on some of this.

Unknown to the visitors from Caesarea, Peter had already been told to go with them.  He agreed to go with them the next morning and invited them to spend the night.  It was a bold move for a Jew to extend hospitality to gentiles but Peter would soon be making bolder moves.

Revolution in a Living Room

When Peter stepped into Cornelius’s living room he may not have known a revolution was about to take place but he was surprised to see a crowd of Cornelius’s relatives and friends waiting to hear what he had to say.

After meeting Cornelius, Peter said, “You know as well as I do, most Jews would not set foot in this house but my mind has changed—those old days of thinking about clean and unclean people are over.  Now, tell me why you’ve asked me to come.”

Cornelius told him about his vision and it inspired Peter to begin preaching.  He talked about God’s great promise to send a Messiah who would bring peace—peace of heart and, perhaps, peace between peoples who were separated due to sin.  He reviewed the life of Jesus—telling about his works and his death.  Then he announced the resurrection.  Peter especially stresses the fact that there were eyewitnesses to the Risen Christ, that he was one of those eyewitnesses.

We don’t know all that Peter might have said because he didn’t get to finish.  He didn’t finish but he said enough for faith to form in the hearts of those listeners.  They embraced the gospel.  And suddenly they began to speak in tongues.

The crowd in that living room might not have understood all that was happening but Peter did.  It was a revolution.  Gentiles were receiving the Spirit in the same way the Jewish believers had.  

Later, when Peter was forced to defend his actions and his fellowship with the Gentile believers, this fact would be one of his most telling arguments.  The fact that the gentiles had received the Spirit in the same way as the Jewish believers affirmed he had done the right thing in preaching to them, baptizing them, nurturing them, and having fellowship with them.

The Caesarean Christians had had the same experience as the Jerusalem Christians; therefore, they were spiritual equals.  (cf.  Acts 11:15f)  More than five years after the Resurrection and Jesus’ command to “go into all the world” some disciples were still stunned in the face of indisputable evidence that God had determined to be gracious to Jew and Gentile alike.  Some would continue to resist, most saw it as an occasion to rejoice.

 

Conclusion

There are still barriers that need to be broken down.  They may not be as major as the Jew/Gentile barrier but they may still stop us from trying to share the gospel with everyone.

Some of those barriers may surround peoples who live thousands of miles from here.  Those barriers may surround peoples in remote mountain villages or in dense urban areas.  Those barriers may be cultural, racial, economic, and even ideological.  It takes God-given wisdom and commitment to get past these barriers.

This is why we remind ourselves each year about this time of the needs of international missions.  This year the national goal for the Lottie Moon offering is 175 million dollars.  That’s a lot of money but consider the cause it’s used for.  When you think of that 175 million remember this:  in the month since it’s been open the new casino in Columbus has taken in 18.3 million dollars in bets.  If that rate should continue for the whole year, it will amount to 219.6 million dollars.  I wonder where the money is being better spent.

Then, some of those barriers are close at hand.  In addition to barriers of language, economics, and race, there are other barriers.  There are barriers of mistrust—many see the church and its message as mean-spirited and life-destroying.  There are barriers of fear—many are afraid of rejection and censure if they approach the church.  There are barriers of indifference—once we assumed only the hardened atheist had no regard for the gospel but now ordinary folks find the whole notion of religion as irrelevant. 

Of course, just as the Jews threw up the barriers between themselves and Gentiles like Cornelius, we sometimes throw up barriers.  In this deeply divided nation, are we as eager as we should be to take the gospel to those who hold a different political ideology?  In our eagerness to preserve the sanctity of marriage, are we still willing to share Christ’s love with the homosexual community?  In our struggle with the economic challenges facing the nation, do we recall that those who may be here illegally are also those for whom Christ died?

When it comes to sharing the gospel, are we willing to see the barriers come down?

 

 



[1]  Leon Morris, New Testament Theology, Grand Rapids:  Zondervan Publishing House, 1986, p. 201.