The Purpose (04/09/26)

For all the precision of Greek language, there are matters that simply don’t translate well, and in this case, matters where the precision of the term used seems a bit questionable.  In this latter category, I have in mind the word Luke uses when he writes of Jews living in Jerusalem from every nation.  That word living, katoikountes, speaks of permanent residence.  This is contrasted to the description of those visiting from Rome.  But then, those living in Jerusalem are also identified as residents of other countries.  So, a question arises as to in what sense they are living in Jerusalem.  Have they migrated permanently?  And if so, why describe them as permanent residents of another country?  Further, if they are permanent residents here, being devout Jews, I would expect they would account Aramaic their native tongue, even if they did dwell in foreign lands for a season.  If one were to ask Paul, for example, as to his native tongue, I suspect he would answer Aramaic, even though he lived in Cilicia.  Perhaps I am wrong.  But it seems to me that assimilation was not a hallmark of the diaspora.  More immediately, if these had been living in Jerusalem for some years now, would the same excitement have applied at hearing the language of their former home?  Would that not come instead as a reminder of darker times?

I am thinking that perhaps the degree to which these were living in Jerusalem consisted of the festal season.  They may have become semi-permanent for this period from Passover to Pentecost.  Or perhaps Jerusalem truly was a cosmopolitan city at this stage.  It just doesn’t sit well with the image one gets of Pharisee and Sadducee stubbornly insisting on Jewish culture with none of this Hellenistic garbage.  Why, after all, did they look so dimly upon the Galileans?  These may be Jews, but they associated too readily with Greeks up there in the north country.  And don’t even get us started about Samaritans!  So, then, if these were devout Jews come to the city for the duration, I suppose that would make the visitors status of the Roman contingent more temporary by contrast?  Yet, with a journey of such length, is it really likely they dropped by for Passover, went home, and then came back for Pentecost?  What would be the point?  You’d spend almost the entire time in transit.

So, perhaps there is really no need to seek distinction between these references.  Perhaps Luke is merely seeking to supply some variety in his language, pausing for breath, as it were, as he conveys his list of nations represented.  After all, those from Rome, though identified as visitors, were yet Jews and proselytes.  They weren’t business travelers, or here on government business, or anything of that nature.  And I don’t think tourism was really a thing in that era, so that wasn’t it.  I think, given the way things unfold here, that all involved could be accounted visitors, and all involved still considered other places to be home.  And that, I think, likely applied to those disciples upstairs as readily as it did those gathering to listen.  That might change as God makes His purpose for them clear.  It does appear that Jerusalem became a permanent base of operations for the church.  Yet, they also sent forth to locations far and wide.  It might have taken the pressure of persecution to get them going, but they went.  And if so many of them were drawn from this contingent of foreign nationals, how much better their ability to bear the gospel home when they went.

So, there is your audience for this event, a people representing pretty much the whole scope of the Roman Empire.  We’ll come back to that point later.  But seriously, you’re talking representatives of a region stretching from India to Italy, and encompassing at least two thirds of the Mediterranean coast.  Admittedly, the Hellenic peninsula is absent from the list, perhaps reflecting Jewish bias, or perhaps just a literary choice, given how central a role that region would have in later events.  But suffice to say, it’s quite a scope of representation that is set before the small group of believers this day.

And then we have this second question.  What drew them?  The English, at least in the NASB and like translations, leaves it somewhat ambiguous.  It’s just, “this sound,” in the NASB.  But what sound?  Was it the wind or the talking?  Talking, in a cityscape, hardly seems the sort of thing to grab your attention, but high wind?  Especially, I should think, the sound of so high a wind without so much as a whisper of any current of air moving; yes, that might cause some sort of a stir.  Young’s Literal Translation is equally ambiguous as to the attractor, writing, “and the rumour of this having come.”  But what this?  Curiously, for so literal a translation, the actual wording is actually fairly precise.  It’s phones, the sound of voices.  It’s not the wind, then, but the talking.  Were they that loud, then?  Apparently so.  But as I explored in my “You Were There” section, hearing the voices of home seems to have been enough to get them to stop and listen.

Luke is brief in his description, and no real surprise there.  He’s not here to convey spectacle, but to tell us of the formative years of the church.  And he’s working, so far as we know, from garnered information, not from personal experience as he relays these events to us.  It’s a record of how God was moving, not an investigative report on how the people responded.  That, in all cases, proves a mixed bag, and he faithfully observes that point.  But here, the focus is on God, moving through this small, societally insignificant group.  And as we see from the crowd reaction, their origins remained evident even as they spoke these other languages.  Something still left them identifiably Galilean.  Perhaps there were certain vocatives that, whether in Aramaic, Koine, or any other language, just proved a tell.  We are reminded of that encounter Peter had with strangers in the courtyard outside Annas’ place.  We can hear it in your voice, you’re obviously Galilean.  You must be one of them.  At any rate, the language made folks stop and listen.  And perhaps the sight of those stopped and listening caused others to come see what was going on.  Then they in turn heard things said in their language, and so on and so on.

The question arises, though, because Luke does not exactly specify, is how this was unfolding.  There were some 120 people up in that place, and the Spirit had descended upon each and every one.  And he tells us all were filled with the Spirit and began speaking.  But one has to ask, if all 120 were speaking at once, and each in a different language, how could anybody expect to understand what was being said?  It would be an undifferentiated wall of noise.  Think how difficult it can be to follow conversation in a noisy restaurant.  Or, for that matter, how frustrating it can be to phone into a meeting in a conference room where several conversations are happening at once.  It becomes exceedingly difficult, even annoying, to try and focus on one voice out of the din.  No, for all 120 to be talking at once would lead to chaos, not wonder; though it might have given at least some minimal cause for those scoffers in the crowd to assume drunkenness.  Incoherent noise fits that image well.  A clear message, and that, as we are told, concerning the mighty deeds of God, is not really at all conducive to an assumption of intoxication.

We do have this in Luke’s description from the preceding verses; that each spoke as the Spirit gave them utterance.  This, as well as the intent and impact, suggest to me that the outburst was as orderly as it was surprising.  God, after all, is not an author of chaos, but of peace (1Co 14:33).  And that would certainly hold as true in this situation as in the later operation of the church in gathered worship.  Think, too, of Paul’s admonition in that same chapter.  If all start speaking in tongues at once, any unbeliever, or merely uninitiated individual hearing it would assume you were nuts (1Co 14:23).  They would get nothing from it but noise.  That same point holds on this occasion, and we might suppose that Paul had heard about these events alongside Luke.  They were, after all, fairly regular companions.

We have to consider the purpose for what is happening in this scene.  It’s not just about giving the disciples a thrill.  It’s not even just about making sure they understand that God has come for a personal visit with them.  It’s about equipping.  Recall Jesus’ instruction to this little group.  Stay in Jerusalem until you have this which the Father promised, the baptism of the Holy Spirit (Ac 1:4-5), the arrival of that other Counselor sent at Jesus’ request (Jn 14:16).  This gift of languages, for they were quite evidently known and comprehensible languages, not the syllables of some secret means of heavenly communication, was to the purpose of fulfilling their purpose.  “You shall be my witnesses.”  How better to reach the nations than to address them in their own language?  Here in the city, it was quite effective because that sound of their own language in this place where it was unexpected would give them pause, and having paused, they would hear.  They were hearing of the mighty deeds of God.  But I have to believe that the particular deeds they were hearing about concerned the Person and the work of Christ, His life, His death, His resurrection.

When it came time to move out into the surrounding nations and proclaim this same message, how much more needful would such an ability to speak the local language be?  I can turn yet again to my few trips overseas now.  To be in Malawi, or Zambia, amidst a crowd for whom English is, at best, a second language, more likely a language barely understood, if at all, puts you at a disadvantage.  You are relying on the ability of your translator to properly convey your meaning, and honestly, you have little way of knowing how well he has done.  There are some, certainly, whose struggle to get it right becomes evident, and others in the room are usually gracious in offering the word that evades them.  But there are others who make translation almost an artform, taking pains to convey not just the words but the emotion, the gestures, the whole picture of communication.  Yet, it must be admitted that, were we fluent in the local language, the whole exercise would prove much easier.  Mind you, given how many nations are represented on those occasions, we would need an equipping not unlike what is unfolding here in this scene, and then, we would likewise need to take our turns to convey the message in each language.

So, I conclude that this being a purposeful event fully orchestrated by a purposeful God, what we are observing is not the chaos of some international bar scene, but an orderly communication between these Spirit-filled believers and a populace that needs to hear.  This was a coherent declaration of God on the move, not inchoate cacophony leading to confusion.  The crowd was amazed, astounded, beside themselves to understand how what was happening was happening or what it signified.  But they understood the message well enough.  If they hadn’t, they would not have been amazed, merely annoyed.  This guiding principle ought to inform us as regards our own practice.  For many, it may not seem a big deal, since we don’t speak in tongues anyway.  But for those who do, it is well to be mindful that this gift is to a purpose, and that purpose far exceeds self-centered functions of strengthening or private communications geared to sneak through enemy lines unmolested.  It’s not the coding of a secure line to heaven.  It’s intended to communicate from heaven, and communication necessarily implies comprehension.

I have been in places where all spoke in tongues at once, most often stirred to it by leadership.  And I can confess that there is a certain sense of excited air to the event when it happens.  But then, those occurrences are primarily found when the people of God are gathered together without any particular pursuit of evangelism.  More often, one finds this kind of behavior where it is most likely that none but believers are present.  So, perhaps we can accept that on such occasion, this behavior isn’t entirely untoward.  Yet, we do have Paul’s admonition, given to a church where we might posit the same setting, and his instruction takes into account that it’s not like the doors are sealed, and the possibility of visitors precluded.  You are always on call, instructed to be ready in season and out to instruct, reprove, rebuke or encourage, as the case requires, with great patience (2Ti 4:2).  You are called to be ready to account for the hope that is in you to whomever may ask, whenever they ask (1Pe 3:15), doing so with gentleness and reverence.

The purpose, then, in all things, is to equip, not to entertain.  Be ready.  Be available.  Be useful in your purpose.

The Reach (04/10/26-04/11/26)

It would be an easy thing to kind of glaze over as we read verses 9-10, with their list of archaic place names, and just get on to the point.  But we should remain mindful that the same Holy Spirit who empowered all that transpired on that day, including the selection of just which individuals would form that crowd outside, oversaw the composing of Scripture.  He who had a reason for these particular people to gather and to hear has a particular reason for noting the places they represent.  And per Scripture’s own declaration, that reason pertains to us who read it in these latter days.  If our focus remains on God’s personal involvement in events, rather than in the spectacle of those events, perhaps we can perceive that this is in fact part of His purpose>; that we might see not the spectacle, but the cause.

Consider this scene and why it is happening as it does.  The Holy Spirit has settled into those in the upper room, giving them the message to deliver, the very words to speak.  And not only that, but He has empowered them with sudden-onset linguistic abilities in these various foreign languages.  This is not a case of various individuals having had opportunity to learn this language or that previously, and now inspired to put it into practice.  Left to themselves, there would be no point to it.  They already know one another, and know that they share this Galilean background in common.  They all speak Koine Greek well enough.  They almost certainly speak Aramaic.  There would be no point or purpose to putting on a show of whatever other languages they may have picked up.  Add that most of them were tradesmen, fishermen or the like.  This does not, of course, preclude them having learned a thing or two in their youngish years, but it’s not like this is a scholarly group come together.  No.  While I would suggest that they probably did understand what the message was they were delivering, I am quite convinced they did not know the language in which it was delivered.

As I explored yesterday, there is also the Spirit’s involvement in keeping it orderly.  This was not the whole group suddenly lost in ecstatic fervor, everybody shouting out in whatever language they had suddenly acquired at the same time.  Is it possible that this was the case?  I suppose anything’s possible, but this being a purposeful event orchestrated by God who is not a god of chaos, but of peace, I would account it unlikely in the extreme.  No.  The Holy Spirit supplied the message.  He supplied the language.  And He supplied the time.  Then, too, He was orchestrating who was passing by at which moment.  To what end, after all, a message in Parthian if those outside hearing it are Cretans or Romans?  To what end a Latin sermon to ears that know no Latin?  This had to be timed right.  As those from Cyrene passed, here was the message in the language of the Cyrenians.  As those from Asia came through, here was the message in their language.  All had to be timed just right, else the whole thing is just empty spectacle.  And God is not one for empty spectacle.  There is a reason.

So, I would note in passing, that many of these thoughts regarding God’s direct involvement in the events of that day I first applied to the Person of Jesus.  To be sure, He is the focus of the message delivered, His incarnation, death, resurrection, and ascension being so much the very core and foundation of this new covenant faith.  But the action is more directly that of the Person of the Holy Spirit, come, as Jesus Himself promised, to direct us to Christ, to remind us of all He said and did, to prepare us for our future as the gift the Father has prepared for the Son.  I have read, in past years, of our propensity to overlook the Holy Spirit, as the invisible, unnoticed third wheel of the Trinity.  But it seems to me that to some degree that is by God’s design, by the Spirit’s own intent.  Yes, He is Holy, every bit God even as Jesus is every bit God.  Yes, He is worthy of our reverence every bit as much as Father or Son.  But He hasn’t come to make a name for Himself.  For one, He has no need to do so.  He is not some needy god like Artemis, whose followers were concerned that if they ceased worshiping her, she would cease to be.  But He comes to glorify the Son, even as the Son came to glorify the Father.  And in this, I dare say, He supplies the example for us who are by no means gods.  We who call ourselves Christians are not to be, must not be, about making a name for ourselves, but all about proclaiming the glories of Him who has called us out of darkness into His own marvelous light (1Pe 2:9).  It is our mission amidst the world even as it is the mission of the Holy Spirit amongst us.

All well and good.  But let us expand the scope even wider.  All or most of these to whom Luke directs our attention were, in spite of their varied backgrounds, Jews, and not merely by ethnicity, but by practice.  They were devout, God-fearing sons of Abraham.  And I do appreciate the significance our lexicons put on that word devout.  These were people who were ‘carefully cautious,’ diligent to worship God as He chooses to be worshiped.  They were not of the sort to shape religion after their own preferences.  They weren’t looking for spotlights and fog machines and a really rockin’ worship band to make the feast a real party.  They were here, a sacrifice of time and means beyond what most today would be willing to give up, to fulfill the obligations of their faith.  God had commanded that every able-bodied Jewish male be present and accounted for, in Jerusalem, on these three occasions of Passover, Pentecost, and Tabernacles.  How they all fit in that city on those occasions is beyond me, and how sufficient provision for such a crowd was found is likewise beyond me.  But it was what one did as a faithful Jew.  And as I observed previously, Passover and Pentecost at least come close enough together that one may as well remain in town for the duration.

Put it in terms more familiar.  Europeans might be closer to familiarity here, but even for them the length of time taken off for this would be at least a little excessive.  This was seven weeks plus spent away from home, even discounting time in transit.  This is seven weeks, we might note, in the midst of harvest season as well.  Now, how many of those who had come remained agrarian in their employments is an open question, but I would venture it was rather a mixed group so far as professions went.  But regardless, leaving your employment behind for seven weeks is a commitment, isn’t it?  If you work for another, you’re asking rather a lot of him to expect your job will still be there when you get back.  If you’re self-employed, particularly if it’s in areas of agriculture or livestock, who’s tending to that in your absence?  And then, who’s paying for room and board while you’re here?  That’s going to add up.  If I were to just drop everything and go to Italy, say, or wherever it may be for two months and more out of the year, that’s going to put a dent in the finances.  It’s going to create problems for maintaining house and home.  It’s going to require a particularly patient and accommodating employer to keep the income flowing in spite of my lack of labor.  And these folks didn’t have wire transfers and debit cards to make funds available to them at need.

Okay.  Back to the scene before us.  All of these distant places are represented, albeit by Jewish individuals.  But how comes it to be that they are there?  Here, too, we have a choice of looking to the machinations of man, or recognizing the orchestrating hand of God in events.  If I look back to a few of those passages brought up in parallel to our account here, I see the chronicler of Israel’s dynastic history observing how the king of Assyria had captured Samaria and the northern kingdom of Israel, hauling the people away to exile, as was the habit of conquering nations at the time, resettling the in other lands (2Ki 17:6).  There are again place names noted, but for the most part that appears to indicate the regions identified in our passage as Parthia, Medea, and Elam, far to the east of Jerusalem, in what is now Iran.

In that same general period, we have Isaiah prophesying of what could be construed as contemplating the day before us in Luke’s account, though I think it points still to some future event.  Being prophecy, nothing precludes it pointing to both.  At any rate, he writes that on that day the Lord will recover ‘a second time’ the remnant of His people (Isa 11:11).  And then follows a list of places, some familiar, some not so much.  We see Assyria and Egypt prominent.  No surprise, given they were prominent powers in the world at that time. We see Cush, Elam, Shinar, which would move us to those same eastern reaches noted by Luke, and also south into Ethiopia, if I’m not mistaken.  Yes and no.  Smith’s indicates they covered a region from Ethiopia right out to the Tigris, so we would find Mesopotamia and Arabia involved as well.  Oh, and then Isaiah also mentions ‘the islands of the sea,’ so there’s Crete represented, potentially.

Do you see what has happened?  All of these tides of war that had swept through Israel over the centuries, all of these conquering armies come through and dragged folks away to distant lands had purpose.  Yes, there is the aspect that these things came about as a fulfillment of the covenant curses for disregarding God’s Law, and that aspect certainly looms large in the Old Testament accounting of what happened.  It’s called the Exile for a reason, and primarily because God expelled them from Israel for a season, for their discipline.  The involvement of various conquering nations is secondary at best.  And, we might note, just retribution for their over-zealous execution of their assigned role remains.  But there’s something grander happening here.  There’s preparation.  There are seeds being cast into those distant lands.  For where the Jews went, awareness of God and of God’s Law went as well.  It may have stayed somewhat closed in, kept within the confines of the Jewish communities in those places.  But it stood out the more for doing so.  This people, wherever you tucked them away, remained a people distinct, and their faith, it seems, went on unbending.

Yet, it was not the ancient faith that God had in mind, but rather preparation for the Gospel.  You may take that as a gloss all but required by my being a Christian.  But I can’t help noticing how those places to which they were exiled are the places now hearing the Gospel proclaimed in Jerusalem as the Holy Spirit makes this announcement through the mouths of these unlearned Galileans.  More seeds!

I am belaboring the point that the event Luke has set before us isn’t here for us to ooh and ah over.  It’s not here to make us jealous, and long for such magical gifts.  Seeds are being sown here.  Some, as we learn later in this chapter, perhaps even many, indeed came to faith that day.  But then, there were those who did not.  And they all went home eventually, returning to the lands whence they came.  But they went home with new information.  Whether they had received it to good effect or not, they had received it, and it would remain a latent memory.  The time would come when those in the upper room, or those who came after them, would depart their base in Jerusalem to take this Gospel to the nations.  And when they arrived, as we see consistently in the account ahead of us in this book, they would find some among the Jews who believed as well as the many from amongst the Gentiles.  The ground had been prepared.  Those latent memories remained, stirred to remembrance when the message came to them once more.

It puts me in mind of that second visit Jesus made to the Decapolis.  On His first visit, He had healed the demoniac, and herds of swine had lost their lives, driven into the sea by the demons removed from that demoniac.  The crowds, in that moment, responded in fear and perhaps anger at the lost income represented by those swine.  They insisted that Jesus depart, and He did so.  But the former demoniac, though desirous of joining Jesus’ followers, was told instead to return home and declare what had happened to him.  Think how big a departure this was from Jesus’ usual mode of operation.  Repeatedly, we find Him telling those He had healed to say nothing; maybe go to the priests and satisfy the Law.  But here?  Among a more Gentile populace?  Spread the news!  And when He returned, what had happened?  The crowds that had begged Him to leave on that occasion were now rushing to meet Him, bringing their sick along in order that they, too, might know His healing touch.  Did they have faith unto salvation?  Some no doubt did.  Others more likely remained in the realm of pagan thinking, seeing only a miracle worker, a magician or mystic of some sort, but one who got results.  The bigger point:  Seeds were planted on that first occasion, both by the shocking change evident in the demoniac with whom all the locals would be dreadfully familiar, and in those farther away to whom he related his experience, doubtless with much said of this marvelous Jesus through whom the change had come.  Seeds were planted, and when the Gospel returned, the ground was prepared.

This is, it seems, how God works.  Those seeds may lay dormant long years before there is any evidence of fruitful growth.  You and I may not, even now, recognize the seeds first planted in our own lives.  Some of them, no doubt, are recollected with clarity.  But other seeds were cast in quietness, and just lay in the dirt of our lives unnoticed until some later cloudburst of good news watered them and caused them to stir to life.

Be encouraged.  While I would certainly encourage us all to be more intentional in being sowers of the gospel, the reality is that we often sow unknowing.   We are not granted to know what simple aside may be received to profound effect.  We are not granted to know when our greatest efforts are falling on deaf ears.  What we do know is that the result, whether we see it or not, whether for salvation or perdition, are for God to determine, and what He determines, dear ones, will surely come to pass.  Your labors are not in vain.  Your labors may not even be the things you labor at so hard, but rather the quiet example of your unguarded moments.  So live, then, and so speak, as to proclaim the glory of God.  So live, and so speak, as to enable others to see the work He has done in you, and as to stir in them a hunger for like change and growth.

The Reaction (04/11/26)

Having noted the unknowable response our efforts may receive, I would look to that which we see happening on the occasion Luke presents.  The overriding response is bewilderment.  Something’s going on, but what?  I actually rather love the more literal presentation of that response, as Wuest provides it.  “What does this wish to signify?”  Or, perhaps try, “What is this trying to be?”  But the more read-friendly approaches do convey the point well.  What does this mean?

Well, it’s obvious that they understood what the words themselves meant.  Otherwise, the scoffers mentioned at the end would be more likely to have the right of it.  It’s just a bunch of noise from besotted minds.  But no.  This is significant.  That much is evident to many of those listening.  It’s just unclear what exactly it signifies.  For those who perceived at least this much, the bewildered state of mind would not pass as the voices dropped off.  I am guessing, from the flow of Luke’s account, that when Peter stood to speak, those voices had ceased, and most likely, he preached in either Aramaic or Koine Greek, with the intent that all now gathered could hear with understanding, and learn what it meant.  But that bewilderment, the curiosity about implications, held them there to listen.

The words Luke piles up to describe their response tell us that the confusion amongst them was great.  They were confounded and perplexed.  They were completely thrown by astonishment, out of their minds, if one wishes to go to the literal derivation.  They were entirely at a loss to explain even to themselves what they were witnessing.  Perhaps you have encountered such a moment.  I don’t think we’re talking about the sort of mob psychosis that seemed to take hold at the trial of Jesus.  Everybody’s shouting, I should, too.  It’s not a matter of running headlong in a panic.  It’s just the mind unable to process what’s being received by the senses.  It understood the words well enough.  Language and reason hadn’t left them.  But language and reason were proving insufficient to events.

Of course, in such a situation, as we so often see, the bewildered mind will often decide to manufacture explanations sufficient to satisfy itself.  We read about those others who laughed things off as the effects of drunkenness in those speaking.  A moment’s consideration would make evident that such an explanation was absurd.  While a drunk might, in his drunkenness, suppose himself suddenly possessed of great eloquence and oratory prowess, those around him are far more likely to witness incoherent babbling, assuming they are sober enough to discern anything.  But one thing I don’t suppose even the most drunken of men has ever supposed is that in his drink he has found a previously unknown capacity to speak some foreign tongue fluently.  Languages, like any other learned skill, take time and effort to obtain.

If I may equate the learning of a new instrument to learning a new language (and I do think there are similarities), it may take years to even achieve basic ability, let alone fluency.  Such has been my experience with learning to play guitar.  It’s a slow process.  The ideas are no different than piano or saxophone, but the language of fingering, strumming, picking, and so on are foreign to those other instruments.  Going from saxophone to piano was one thing.  You move from the realm of single notes into a land of chordal polyphony.  And no longer are both hands laboring to bring forth the same note together.  Left hand must learn a bit of independence from right.  But still, there remains precisely one place to find a specific note.  And with both, there is one direction which leads to higher notes, with its opposite leading to lower.   Now we come to the guitar, and notes may have as many as six different locations to choose from.  Where the saxophone gave you one note, and the piano may give you as many as 10 (though more commonly stopping at 8), the guitar leaves you but six, perhaps less.  And there are now two directions that lead to higher notes, two that move lower.  Add in the way certain resonances in the instrument make it plausible to play chords that really ought not to exist, and yet work pleasingly enough on the ear, and it’s nigh onto magic as you try and come to grips with the thing.  All of this to say that new languages aren’t suddenly coming up with entirely new meanings, though you may find that they have unique ways to convey that meaning.  It’s a matter of learning the new mechanisms to say the old things.  But it takes time and practice, and these in the upper room have had no time, no practice.

What can it mean?  What is the point of all this?  Again, we’re talking a relatively devout gathering here.  No doubt there were those among them who saw this whole thing as more a vacation than a religious exercise.  But Luke is stressing the care for observing the obligations of worship of the one true God amongst those coming around that house.  They were in Jerusalem for more than sight-seeing.  I honestly doubt sight-seeing was much of a thing in that period, except perhaps amongst the wealthiest.  There was enough to do keeping house and family afloat.  No, they were here because the Law said they must attend to this gathered worship on this date.  It was time to be in Jerusalem and present themselves before God, and here they were.  But that was done now.  We saw that in the preceding verses.  Pentecost was over.  The celebration of the giving of the Law which had been appended to Pentecost was presumably also concluded.  Things should be settling down now, visitors beginning to prepare for the return journey.  Instead, we have this excitement.  Why?  What does it mean?  So far as we know, those listening did not have the benefit of having witnessed the noise of wind and the flickering of fire.  Such things might have given them some idea as to the answer to their bewildered question.  But all they had was the message of God’s marvelous works repeating in language after language.  Why?  Didn’t everybody here already know that?

But it is a mixed response.  There are those curious to understand, and there are those quick to write it off as nothing.  Oh, they’re just drunk.  It doesn’t matter, really if that response makes sense.  It’s an excuse to move on as if it were nonsense.  This is ever the way of it, isn’t it?  When we speak of the stuff of heaven, when we bring up anything to do with God, probably the majority response we will encounter will be whatever allows the listener to get out of the conversation quickly.  It may be polite.  It may be combative.  It will often be couched in what appears to be agreement, but is not.  Here, the negative response comes in the form of dismissive amusement.  Meh.  They’re just a bunch of morning drunks spouting nonsense.  Anything to get away from whatever is really going on here.  Just let me get back to living my life.

Go forward to Paul preaching in Athens, the home of philosophy and reason.  He comes with this message of God born into human flesh, living among men, dying at the hands of men, and then being resurrected to life once more.  He comes claiming that this individual was in fact the Creator and Sustainer of all that is, the answer to the deepest questions of philosophy.  That is the import of his declaration, when he says, “In HIM we live, and move, and have being” (Ac 17:28).  This, I would note, in contrast to those supports of Artemis, concerned she might wink out of existence should her worship stop.  It’s a complete turning of the tables.  No!  The gods don’t depend on us for existence.  For all that, the gods, such as you know them, are nothing.  Rather, we, as well as these supposed gods of yours, depend utterly, entirely, and exclusively upon the One True God for life, breath, and existence.  Were He to blink, we would cease.  And all of this posited about this One he insists died, was buried three days, even if that was three days by Jewish accounting, and came back to life.  And then, if that wasn’t enough nonsense for you, he claims this one was seen floating back up to heaven.

The response amongst these oh, so reasonable philosophers?  Come to the resurrection, and sorry.  Not listening anymore.  “Some sneered,” we are told (Ac 17:32).  I would imagine that rather a lot of them sneered.  But there were others.  Whether there was budding faith in them or merely boredom we don’t know, but they indicated a desire to hear more of this on another occasion.  Given Paul’s relatively quick departure from Athens for more fruitful regions I suspect the greater motivation there was bored curiosity.  That, after all, seems to have been a driving factor for these gatherings.  Always seeking the novelty.

This should be a warning for us.  We are children of an age of reason, inheritors of the Enlightenment, and that has caused no end of difficulty for those who would hold to faith.  It’s not that it has rendered faith unreasonable.  It’s that it has led to us being far more akin to these philosophers of old than is necessarily healthy.  It’s well and good to probe the meaning of life and being.  It is in point of fact a most healthy exercise to seek significance in life and to develop character suited to that significance.  But our besotted view of our own powers of reason can leave us incapable of receiving real wisdom.  And our thirst for novelty is no less than theirs.  In other cases, it may not be novelty so much as comfortable familiarity that drives our decisions and pursuits.  We want religion our way.  We want the familiar ideas, things that offer encouragement without too much challenge, thank you very much.  Or, in other cases, we want the excitement of these marvels.  If the service doesn’t send goosebumps up and down our spine, is it even Spirit filled?

These are not the tides that should move us.  We are called to be steadfast, to stand firm upon the doctrines once for all delivered to the saints.  It’s one thing to take that body of doctrine and present it in the language of the society in which we reside.  But don’t fall into the trap of trying to make it relevant.  It is relevant.  It needs no softening of this doctrine, adding of that loophole.  It doesn’t need to be welcoming, per se.  It needs to be true.  It is not the geniality of the congregation that will save lives, but the Gospel preached clearly and plainly.  It is not novel ideas on the meaning of Paul, or the historicity of Jesus that will lead to redemption, but the simple Truth.  He is God.  He became man, born sinless to a real young lady in a real place in real history.  He lived a man among men, but more.  He was God among men, but did not really advertise the fact.  He showed us what it meant to be human.  And then, having lived in perfect adherence to Mosaic Law – a thing unheard of in the whole history of that law – He died a most horrendous and unjust death, the most horrendous Rome knew how to achieve.  But death did not hold Him, could not.  It had no claim on Him, for death is the penalty for sin, and here was one sinless man.  No.  He returned to life.  He is alive.  Two thousand plus years on, He is alive!  Now, there’s a point that’s going to get you dismissed by the children of the Enlightenment.  Who are you trying to kid, kid?  Nobody lives that long.  Fourscore and ten if you’re particularly blessed, but 2k?  Not happening.  Stop your nonsense.

But some will hear to benefit.  In some, the Holy Spirit has prepared the ground, planted the seed, supplied the water, and faith sprouts up.  Faith perceives the reality of the matter, and stands in wonder.  This Man, this God, wants me?  How could I refuse?  Why would I?  And this, beloved, is our assurance as we bear this message to the world.  God is still at work.  He is still expanding His kingdom.  His Gospel has never found need for alteration, continues to be powerful to save, if only we will allow it to be heard clearly, plainly, unadorned by our fanciful additions, or helpful alterations.  But ours is not to dictate the results, and ours must not be to be discouraged when it seems to fall on deaf ears.  God is at work.  It may be that the words we have planted need to rest in the soil for a season before they will grow.  It may be that in this case they simply will not grow.  That’s not ours to decide, and it cannot be our concern.  Our concern is to speak, both by word and by life, the truth of God and allow the Spirit to use that as He sees fit.  Our concern is to take up our place in this glorious mission of salvation, as ambassadors of heaven, and make our King known in all His glorious goodness.