“Verbs of Grace”
Acts 16:16-34
Allen Huff
Jonesborough Presbyterian Church
5/8/16
Paul and Silas
are in the Macedonian town of Philippi. Geographically, Philippi represents the
halfway point of Paul’s second journey. And Paul develops a very close
relationship with the Philippian church. Demonstrating genuine openness to the
gospel, they go beyond adopting beliefs about
Jesus. They truly follow him. They
visit and care for Paul as a stranger, as a prisoner, and as one who is
stripped, beaten and left for dead. Does that sound like a parable?
Jesus, you
see, is not always alive where people simply declare belief. But he does seem
to be tangibly alive and active where people care for one another out of
Gratitude and Love for the generous gift of the Creation itself, whether they
use Jesus’ name or not. Such deliberate care for “the earth…and all that is in
it,” (Psalm
24) can rattles cages, though. It can shake cultural foundations,
especially in places like first-century Rome, cultures built on the
entitlements of wealth and power.
A slave girl
who has a “spirit of divination” belongs to a couple of folks in Philippi.
Under more gracious circumstances, the girl might have claimed her unique
capacity for insight as a gift, and offered it for the sake of others. And even
if thanked or compensated in some way, the transaction would have been one of
mutual gifting. Instead, those who claim the girl as private property treat her
spiritual intuition as a commodity, something to be monetized for their own
self-interest.
Like it or
not, we must confess our own culture’s idolatrous bent toward monetizing not
only spiritual gifts, but even the most agonizing brokenness of the human
condition.
One day a few
years ago, I was idly channel-surfing and came across an episode of a show about
the war in Iraq. It was neither a dramatization nor a documentary. A commercial
interest had embedded itself with a medical unit. While one camera filmed men
at some base camp gathered around a radio, another camera filmed a crew of
medics in helicopter. They were hunched over the bleeding, semi-conscious body
of a young man whose life had just been violently and permanently altered. The
air bee-hived with bags, and tubes, and syringes, and bleeped-out expletives.
The fuzzy oval covering the man’s face preserved as much dignity as a fishnet G-string.
A grim-voiced narrator described in time-running-out
language what anyone could see. As the tension reached a crescendo, the scene
cut away to make time for advertisers to sell beer, pickup trucks, and breakfast
cereal.
How does humankind
get to the place of monetizing not just the brutality of war, but the
particular suffering of a particular individual whose body, mind, and spirit
are in the very process of being wounded, perhaps even destroyed? How different
are we from the crucifying fields of
ancient Rome?
I wonder what
actually “annoys” Paul. Is it really the girl’s constant chatter about “slaves
of the Most High God”? Or does his annoyance reflect a brokenhearted disgust with
her owners who allow her to keep this up “for many days.” Because they use Paul’s
presence to advertise the girl’s gift, they are monetizing both her and the
gospel. This does not sit well with Paul
Remember, in
his letter to the Philippian church, Paul thanks his friends for some
unspecified gift saying that he does not “seek the gift, but [rather] the
profit that accumulates to [their] account.” He treasures what he receives, but
even more so he treasures what the givers discover about giving freely and
gratefully for the sake of others. In the free exchange of grace, a gift
received becomes a gift given. In a similar way, perhaps, a gift removed can also
become a gift given. When Paul releases the girl from that which had kept her
objectified and monetized by her “owners,” he grants her the chance to live
freely and gratefully in the world.
Now, such an
act threatens the cultural foundations. So, Paul and Silas are charged with
public disturbance and heresy. They are arrested, humiliated, beaten, and
thrown into prison. And yet more foundations shake. The earth itself shifts.
Prison doors swing open. And the jailer, an expendable cog in the graceless Roman
machine, prepares to fall on his sword.
‘Don’t do it!”
says Paul. ‘We’re still here.’
The terrified
jailer rushes into Paul’s cell, falls to his knees, and says, “Sirs, what must
I do to be saved?”
‘Trust in
Jesus,” says Paul.
I have to imagine the jailer
looking up and thinking, ‘What are you
talking about?’ He isn’t worried about that kind of salvation. He’s worried
about being crucified, literally, for failing to keep the jail in proper order.
The jailer
listens to Paul, though. And his life changes. Paul cannot promise deliverance
from the brutal impulses of the state’s political self-interest. He can only
invite the man into a new way of being alive in the world – freely and
gratefully alive, even in the face of violent fear.
Paul doesn’t ask the jailer for
anything, either. He doesn’t try to monetize the gospel. He simply offers it. And
this Gentile’s reception of the
gospel and his thanksgiving act of healing and feeding Paul and Silas are
inseparable. Does that sound like a parable?
Love and
Gratitude: They are all about action. In today’s bitterly divided,
self-referential world, we seem to be all about nouns and adjectives. In the
public square the most popular nouns and adjectives are things like idiot, liar, xenophobe, fraud, scary,
ridiculous, embarrasment…I could go on, but the words quickly become things
I won’t repeat in here. And many who wield these nouns and adjectives sit in
pews on Sunday mornings less than a stone’s throw from people at whom we sling
them. One of the new currencies by which many of us “monetize” fear and judgment
is the “Likes” we get on Facebook. And I’m not claiming high ground here. I
readily confess the nouns and adjectives I catapult with angry abandon, even
when I do so in private or at least select company. I also remind myself that
in a world of 6 billion people, 43 Facebook Likes
does not constitute a revolution.
Foundations
are shaking in so many ways right now. It seems to me, though, that the
faithful response to shaking foundations is to live as verbs of Grace, to live
as ones through whom shaking foundations are transformed into the seismic
rumblings of the Christ. God is calling us to open prison doors, to liberate
captives. Isn’t this what it means to be saved? To Love as we are Loved. To
give and receive, to thank, to embrace, to trust, to feed, to heal, to forgive,
to sing, to hope. These are the means of grace and redemption. To try to profit
from them is to deny them. They can only be shared in free, and generous, and
well-spirited gratitude.
“The kingdom of God
is among you,” says Jesus (Luke 17:21b) We enter it through
shared relationship, through our actions, through the life we live together.
No comments:
Post a Comment