Acts 4:1-31

Last weekend, monitoring stations picked up seismic activity in Edinburgh. The activity was picked up as far as six kilometres from the epicentre. The cause? Seventy-three thousand fans singing and dancing at one of Taylor Swift’s concerts in Murrayfield Stadium. Each night the ground moved around twenty-three nanometres.

Swifties had had the same effect when their heroine performed on the west coast of America in Seattle and Los Angeles. Her Seattle concert registered 2.3 on the Richter scale.

Which brings us to the conclusion of our reading:

³¹ After they prayed, the place where they were meeting was shaken. And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and spoke the word of God boldly.

Was this less Taylor Swift and more Jerry Lee Lewis – ‘Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On’?

They didn’t need seventy-three thousand – although they were up to about five thousand by this point. They simply needed the Holy Spirit.

But then the whole episode is based on another seismic event: the Resurrection. Matthew reports in his Gospel,

² There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it. ³ His appearance was like lightning, and his clothes were white as snow. ⁴ The guards were so afraid of him that they shook and became like dead men.
(Matthew 28:2-4)

And the earthquake of the Resurrection is still being felt here. Make no mistake, if all that had happened was that a lame man had been healed and if Peter had not told the crowd that gathered of their need to reassess their attitude to Jesus because of his Resurrection, then this conflict would not have happened.

If all that had happened was a healing, then that would have been nice, the apostles might have been patted on the back, and people would have thought that this was a commendable act of doing good. Were it to have occurred today, it would be praised as an example of inclusion and social cohesion. If the apostles just kept making people well over many years and set up a charity to administer their work, then maybe they would be nominated for an honour from the King.

I would imagine that if our parliamentary candidates saw something like the churches’ involvement in the Midhurst Community Hub they would praise them. They would applaud the Monday community lunches, the telephone befriending service for the lonely, the debt counselling, and the networking of different organisations.

And none of what I am saying is meant to criticise any of these things. We should be about the healing of bodies, of relationships, of the economy, of the environment, and so on. Absolutely. It’s part of building for God’s kingdom, the making of all things new.

But Peter has brought the Resurrection into play, and it brings with it seismic tremors. If Jesus is risen from the dead and he is responsible for the healing of the lame man, not the apostles, then we have a day of reckoning here. And that’s not only for the ordinary people in the crowd who had not sided with Jesus. More specifically, it’s for the powerful figures who had explicitly conspired to get Jesus executed.

The Resurrection is an earthquake in the middle of history. It’s an earthquake for the powerful, and especially for those who oppose Jesus. Seismic activity leaves them with tremors.

So that’s why when Peter and John are brought before the Sanhedrin, the religious ruling council, and when Peter says again that the healing miracle was wrought by Jesus, whom they had crucified but God had raised from the dead (verse 10) that they want to ban them from speaking about Jesus.

But they can’t. Peter says,

¹² Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved.’

And later we read,

¹⁸ Then they called them in again and commanded them not to speak or teach at all in the name of Jesus. ¹⁹ But Peter and John replied, ‘Which is right in God’s eyes: to listen to you, or to him? You be the judges! ²⁰ As for us, we cannot help speaking about what we have seen and heard.’

Peter and John understand the Gospel. Just as a Roman herald would visit towns and villages proclaiming the ‘gospel’ that there was a new Emperor on the throne or that Roman armies had won a great victory, so they knew the Gospel of God was that there was a new king on the throne of the universe, and his name was Jesus, and that same Jesus had won the greatest battle of all at the Cross.

So they cannot be silent. If Jesus is King, then the power of all earthly authorities is only relative. Absolute commands, such as to stay silent about Jesus, are invalid. And later, when the Christian message reached outside Judaism into the rest of the Roman Empire, they would use the expression ‘Jesus is Lord’, with the implication that if Jesus is Lord then Caesar is not, despite the Empire’s creed that ‘Caesar is Lord.’ The powers must come under Jesus. And they don’t like it.

And you know what, they still don’t like it. My last Methodist District used to run an annual children’s holiday. They would take children who otherwise would not get a holiday away for a week’s fun. The children would come on the recommendation of professionals such as social workers, and would be from poorer families, or they would be children who were carers, and so on. It required a lot of money, and much fund-raising was done.

They applied to BBC Children In Need for a grant, and were awarded one. Now if you think Children In Need is all fluffy Pudsey Bear stuff, I’m about to prick the balloon of your imagination. Because when Children In Need sent the paperwork through to sign, it contained a stipulation that the volunteer workers on the holiday (including a friend of mine who acted as the chaplain) were not to pray with the children.

Now of course, their rationale was that non-Christians had given money to the charity and they would not necessarily want to see their giving used for explicitly Christian causes. But that is at best a short-sighted reason, and frankly entirely specious. They conveniently ignored all the Christians who give to them. In my opinion, it was a deliberate suppression of the Christian message. My chaplain friend spoke at a Synod to warn other churches about the dangers of applying for funding from Children In Need.

What implications for us to do we draw from Peter and John’s example?

Firstly, let us be clear about the Gospel. Everything turned on their understanding of the Good News, as I just described it. The death of Jesus shows up our sin, his Resurrection shows God’s vindication of him, and our need to change. For he is King of the universe (hence our talk about the kingdom of God) and he has won the decisive battle against evil. We need to call people to allegiance to him.

Salvation is found in no-one else (verse 12), otherwise his death on the Cross was pointless. You may have heard the old story that purports to support the idea that all religions lead to God by comparing things to blind men feeling an elephant, and each describing different parts. But the story is nonsense, because God has promised to open blind eyes to his truth.

These things are core to the Christian faith. Water them down, and you no longer have Christianity. Our calling is not to be ashamed of Jesus and his Gospel. We need to be clear about it.

Secondly, let us be close to Jesus. Hear again the observation that members of the Sanhedrin made about Peter and John:

¹³ When they saw the courage of Peter and John and realised that they were unschooled, ordinary men, they were astonished and they took note that these men had been with Jesus. 

‘Unschooled, ordinary men’: if you want a strong flavour of what Luke is saying here, then a transliteration of his Greek (as opposed to a translation) would say at this point, ‘ungrammatical idiots.’ They would have failed their GCSEs. They had no academic prospects. No other rabbi had taken then on, because Jesus called them to follow him, whereas what normally happened was the other way around: young men approached rabbis. They had depended on their practical skills to be part of their family fishing business. Would they have been selected for the Methodist ministry? Absolutely not.

But they had the most important qualification. They ‘had been with Jesus.’ For all their weaknesses and all their faults, they had been close to him, and it showed. If you’re going to talk about Jesus, it’s a distinct advantage to be able to reflect him because you’re close to him.

We draw near to Jesus in a different way from them. We do so in prayer, devotion, and reading the Scriptures. In particular, it’s so important to read the Gospels and get that feel for our Saviour there.

Clive Calver tells a story in his book ‘Sold Out’ about meeting a lab technician called Charlie after a meeting. Charlie asked him, why when I read in Acts that people noticed the early Christians had been with Jesus, do people not see Jesus in me?

Calver prayed with him that the Holy Spirit would work in him to answer that request.

The next day, Charlie went into work at his lab, and one of his colleagues said to him, ‘What happened to you last night? You’re a different kind of Charlie!’

For me, my two Theology degrees count for nothing unless I’m close to Jesus. What are we proud of that needs to take second place to closeness with Jesus?

Thirdly and finally, let us be courageous in prayer. When the disciples gather to pray after Peter and John are released, they affirm the sovereignty of God in Christ over all, and they also acknowledge the conspiracies and threats of earthly rulers (verses 23-28).

But they do not pray for protection, which I think is what I might be tempted to do. Oh no. They pray for boldness.

²⁹ Now, Lord, consider their threats and enable your servants to speak your word with great boldness. ³⁰ Stretch out your hand to heal and perform signs and wonders through the name of your holy servant Jesus.

Wow. That’s a prayer that effectively says, Lord, please give us the courage to keep doing the stuff that has just got us into trouble! That’s the prayer that leads to the Holy Spirit earthquake.

I am by nature a cautious person. I make my best decisions slowly, after pondering, rather than quickly. And I think I may have become even more cautious as I have got older. Many of us know that tendency as we go through middle age and then into the Third Age of increasingly feeling a need to play safe.

And we live in a culture that emphasises that. Just how many risk assessments do we have to complete before we can hold a particular activity?

But sometimes for the sake of the Gospel we need to say, here’s the risk assessment, but we’re still going to risk. I don’t mean we’re cavalier with the safety of people in our care, but I do mean what the late John Wimber said when he observed that the word ‘faith’ is spelt ‘R-I-S-K.’

Like the apostles, we are called to go into the world and heal (in the broadest sense). That will make us popular. But we are also called to speak the word, and that may not have the same effect. So let us be clear about the Gospel, close to Jesus, and courageous in prayer.

Then we might see our culture disrupted by a Holy Spirit earthquake of the Gospel.