Acts of the Apostles: Joy and Encouragement

At the start of this sequel to the Gospel of Luke, Jesus ascends to the clouds, and a couple of “men in white” (angels, natch) tell the bewildered apostles to stop looking upwards – it’s up to them, now. From then on, a small band of Jesus’s followers grows by leaps and bounds. Lame beggars leap and bound for joy, as the power of the Holy Spirit fills the apostles. Magicians vie with apostles and lose. Authorities religious and imperial try to silence the apostles, to jail them, to banish them, but cell doors open of their own accord, earthquakes crack chains, and the Spirit gives the Christians just the right words to convince more and more to follow Jesus. Even death, the stoning of Stephen, the slaying of James, increases the resolve of the faithful.

Saul, arch-enemy of the Christians, converts on the road to Damascus and becomes preeminent evangelist and organizer.

Dissension and “sharp contention” arise, especially when Peter ministers to a Roman centurion and when Paul reaches out to gentile communities. In the last chapters, Paul outwits the authorities, pitting Pharisee against Sadducee, using his status as a Roman citizen to get out of one scrape after another. Each authority passes him up the ranks until he reaches his goal, Rome.

That’s how Acts reads when you take it in one sitting. (I actually stood under the kitchen light the whole time, and I did take a break mid-way for breakfast.) Like an epic movie about rebels facing an evil empire, it’s fun, it’s encouraging, it’s involving. It’s even funny in places. There’s the one about the seven naked exorcists, and Paul’s invitation to the Roman governor to join the faith, “I wish you were as I am--” adding a diplomatic hint, “except for the chains.”

In his book Introducing the New Testament, Mark Allan Powell raises questions that scholars and the faithful have raised about Acts from the beginning. Why in Acts does Paul not speak any of the doctrines he hammers in his letters – about the crucifixion and justification by faith? (Powell lists five major discrepancies, p. 213). Powell surveys different answers, but comes down on the common-sense observation that Paul in Acts is speaking to non-believers, while he writes in his letters to organized churches.

Powell gives us a long list of parallels between Luke’s Gospel and the Book of Acts (Powell 215). Both books begin with a preface to Theophilus, the descent of the Spirit, a sermon on prophecy fulfilled, and the healing of a lame man; parallels continue to the ends, where a Roman centurion endorses the hero (Jesus, Paul) and there’s a statement of Scriptures fulfilled. Besides the formal parallels, the two books share concerns for the poor and outcasts, an open mind towards pagans and opponents in the Jewish community (222). I noticed also attention to women in positions of influence that’s uncharacteristic of scripture outside of Luke and Acts.

Powell addresses the fact that anti-semites have drawn on Acts to justify their hatred. Powell considers the book to be an endorsement of Judaism. The ministry to the gentiles in Acts is a “continuation” of mission to Israel (219). Israel did not fail, and the church has not “superseded” Israel, Powell writes. Rather, as the Hebrew prophets foretold, Luke sees in the Jewish Christians the “remnant” of Israel (220).

Concluding his chapter on Acts Powell allows that modern Christians don’t experience their faith this way. He likens Acts to an agency’s PR brochure, neither making things up nor denying problems, but foregrounding his message:

Sometimes miracles do happen. Sometimes prayers are answered, heroes are rescued, pagans are kind, martyrs die bravely, and people of faith turn the world upside down (17.6). Remember those times.

Reading Acts this morning, I had a flashback to the only other time I read the book straight through. It was for a Bible class in high school. Back then, I was emerging from years of teenage agnosticism, and this book grabbed my imagination. Even today, I feel, if I weren’t already a faithful Episcopalian, I’d want to join this movement.