[17] Now from Miletus he sent to Ephesus and called the elders of the church to come to him. [18] And when they came to him, he said to them:
“You yourselves know how I lived among you the whole time from the first day that I set foot in Asia,
(Acts 20:17-18 ESV)
From Miletus, Paul sent to Ephesus for the elders of the church (17). As the crow flies, Ephesus was only thirty miles north of Miletus, but the rather circuitous road was longer. It must have taken about three days for a messenger to travel to Ephesus and bring the elders back to Miletus. But in due course they arrived (18a).
a. Some introductory points
Before we are ready to study the text of Paul’s address to the Ephesian elders, several introductory points need to be made. First, this is the only speech in the Acts which is addressed to a Christian audience. All the others are either evangelistic sermons, whether preached to Jewish people (2:14ff.; 3:12ff.; 13:16ff.) or Gentiles (10:34ff.; 14:14ff.; 17:22ff.), or legal defences, whether made before the Sanhedrin in the early days of the church (4:8ff.; 5:29ff.; 7:1ff.) or the five speeches before the Jewish and Roman authorities, which come near the end of the book (22–26).
Secondly, the leaders addressed are called ‘elders’ (17), ‘pastors’ (28a) and ‘overseers’ (28b), and it is evident that these terms denote the same people. ‘Pastors’ is the generic term which describes their role. In our day, in which there is much confusion about the nature and purpose of the pastoral ministry, and much questioning whether clergy are primarily social workers, psychotherapists, educators, facilitators or administrators, it is important to rehabilitate the noble word ‘pastors’, who are shepherds of Christ’s sheep, called to tend, feed and protect them. This pastoral responsibility over the local congregation seems to have been shared by both deacons (though in a supportive role)32 and those who are called either presbyteroi (elders), a word borrowed from the Jewish synagogue, or episkopoi (overseers), a word borrowed from Greek contexts. These are often—and rightly—referred to as ‘presbyter-bishops’, in order to indicate that during the apostolic period the two titles referred to the same office. In those days there were only ‘presbyter-bishops and deacons’.33 Those of us who belong to episcopally ordered churches, and believe that a threefold order [Acts, Page 324] (bishops, presbyters and deacons) can be defended and commended from Scripture, do not base our argument on the word episkopoi, but on people like Timothy and Titus who, though not called ‘bishops’, were nevertheless given an oversight and jurisdiction over several churches, with authority to select and ordain their presbyter-bishops and deacons.
Thirdly, the church of Ephesus clearly had a team of presbyter-bishops (presbyteroi in verse 17 and episkopoi in verse 28 are both in the plural). Similarly Paul appointed ‘elders’ in every Galatian church (14:23), as we have seen, and later instructed Titus to do the same in Crete.34 There is no biblical warrant either for the one-man-band (a single pastor playing all the instruments of the orchestra himself) or for a hierarchical or pyramidal structure in the local church (a single pastor perched at the apex of the pyramid). It is not even clear that each of the elders was in charge of an individual house-church. It is better to think of them as a team, some perhaps with the oversight of house-churches, but others with specialist ministries according to their gifts, and all sharing the pastoral care of Christ’s flock. We need today to recover this concept of a pastoral team in the church.
Fourthly, Luke himself was present and heard this speech (see the ‘we’ in 21:1). Perhaps William Neil is correct in suggesting that ‘Luke may have made notes at the time’.35 Certainly the address has an authentically Pauline flavour. What has struck many students is the correspondence, in both vocabulary an content, between the speech and Paul’s letters. Themes in his letters which he touches on in his speech are the grace of God (24, 32), the kingdom of God (25), the purpose (bouleœ) of God (27), the redeeming blood of Christ (28), repentance and faith (21), the church of God and its edification (28, 32), the inevitability of suffering (23–24), the danger of false teachers (29–30), the need for vigilance (28, 31), running the race (24) and our final inheritance (32).
Showing posts with label John Stott. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John Stott. Show all posts
Friday, September 23, 2011
A coastal voyage to Miletus (20:13–16)
[13] But going ahead to the ship, we set sail for Assos, intending to take Paul aboard there, for so he had arranged, intending himself to go by land. [14] And when he met us at Assos, we took him on board and went to Mitylene. [15] And sailing from there we came the following day opposite Chios; the next day we touched at Samos; and the day after that we went to Miletus. [16] For Paul had decided to sail past Ephesus, so that he might not have to spend time in Asia, for he was hastening to be at Jerusalem, if possible, on the day of Pentecost.
(Acts 20:13-16 ESV)
This next brief paragraph in Luke’s narrative (only four verses in our English Bibles) is a rather breathless account of Paul’s voyage from Troas (where he addressed the local church) to Miletus (where he addressed the pastors of the Ephesian church). He tells us that Paul was ‘in a hurry’ (16); we get the impression that Luke was in a hurry too. He mentions four coastal or island ports at which Paul and his companions stopped (Assos, Mitylene, Kios and Samos) after leaving Troas and before arriving at Miletus. The we-section which began at verse 5 continues, so that Luke must be drawing on his own daily log of events. The ship evidently sailed each day and anchored each night. ‘The reason’, Ramsay explained, ‘lies in the wind’. During the Aegean summer ‘it generally blows from the north, beginning at a very early hour in the morning’. Then ‘in the late afternoon it dies away’ and ‘at sunset there is a dead calm’.30
Leaving Troas, Luke writes, we went on ahead to the ship and sailed for Assos, a port on the Asian mainland about twenty miles south of Troas, where we were going to take Paul aboard. He had made this arrangement because he was going there on foot (13), or perhaps simply ‘by land’ (RSV) or ‘by road’ (NEB). Luke shares two facts with us, without explaining them. First, Paul sent his companions on ahead of him. Did he delay his departure from Troas in order first to assure himself that Eutychus was not only alive but well? It is only a guess. Secondly, Paul arranged for his friends to travel to Assos by sea and for himself to go by land. Travel along the coastal road would be quicker than a sea voyage round the cape. But why did he want to be alone? Was it that this was the real beginning of his long journey to Jerusalem? We know that he was anxious both that he would be rescued from unbelievers in Judea and that his offering would be acceptable to the believers in Jerusalem, for he begged the Christians in Rome to join him in praying for these very things.31 Maybe it was these things which occupied his thoughts and prayers on his lonely walk from Troas to Assos. But again, it is only a guess.
When he met us at Assos, the pre-arranged rendez-vous, we took him aboard and went on to Mitylene (14), which was the main city of the island of Lesbos, and was situated on its south-east coast. The next day we set sail from there and arrived off Kios (15a), that is, anchored in a mainland port opposite the island of Kios. The day after that we crossed over to Samos, and island west of Ephesus, and ‘after stopping at Trogyllium’ (JB, following the Bezan text), a promontory at the entrance to the gulf, on the following day [Acts, Page 323] arrived at Miletus (15b), the mainland harbour at the mouth of the River Meander. Paul had decided to sail past Ephesus, and indeed had now done so in order to reach Miletus, because he wanted to avoid spending time in the province of Asia, a quick visit being in his judgment impossible, for he was in a hurry to reach Jerusalem, if possible, by the day of Pentecost (16).
(Acts 20:13-16 ESV)
This next brief paragraph in Luke’s narrative (only four verses in our English Bibles) is a rather breathless account of Paul’s voyage from Troas (where he addressed the local church) to Miletus (where he addressed the pastors of the Ephesian church). He tells us that Paul was ‘in a hurry’ (16); we get the impression that Luke was in a hurry too. He mentions four coastal or island ports at which Paul and his companions stopped (Assos, Mitylene, Kios and Samos) after leaving Troas and before arriving at Miletus. The we-section which began at verse 5 continues, so that Luke must be drawing on his own daily log of events. The ship evidently sailed each day and anchored each night. ‘The reason’, Ramsay explained, ‘lies in the wind’. During the Aegean summer ‘it generally blows from the north, beginning at a very early hour in the morning’. Then ‘in the late afternoon it dies away’ and ‘at sunset there is a dead calm’.30
Leaving Troas, Luke writes, we went on ahead to the ship and sailed for Assos, a port on the Asian mainland about twenty miles south of Troas, where we were going to take Paul aboard. He had made this arrangement because he was going there on foot (13), or perhaps simply ‘by land’ (RSV) or ‘by road’ (NEB). Luke shares two facts with us, without explaining them. First, Paul sent his companions on ahead of him. Did he delay his departure from Troas in order first to assure himself that Eutychus was not only alive but well? It is only a guess. Secondly, Paul arranged for his friends to travel to Assos by sea and for himself to go by land. Travel along the coastal road would be quicker than a sea voyage round the cape. But why did he want to be alone? Was it that this was the real beginning of his long journey to Jerusalem? We know that he was anxious both that he would be rescued from unbelievers in Judea and that his offering would be acceptable to the believers in Jerusalem, for he begged the Christians in Rome to join him in praying for these very things.31 Maybe it was these things which occupied his thoughts and prayers on his lonely walk from Troas to Assos. But again, it is only a guess.
When he met us at Assos, the pre-arranged rendez-vous, we took him aboard and went on to Mitylene (14), which was the main city of the island of Lesbos, and was situated on its south-east coast. The next day we set sail from there and arrived off Kios (15a), that is, anchored in a mainland port opposite the island of Kios. The day after that we crossed over to Samos, and island west of Ephesus, and ‘after stopping at Trogyllium’ (JB, following the Bezan text), a promontory at the entrance to the gulf, on the following day [Acts, Page 323] arrived at Miletus (15b), the mainland harbour at the mouth of the River Meander. Paul had decided to sail past Ephesus, and indeed had now done so in order to reach Miletus, because he wanted to avoid spending time in the province of Asia, a quick visit being in his judgment impossible, for he was in a hurry to reach Jerusalem, if possible, by the day of Pentecost (16).
Friday, September 16, 2011
A week in Troas (20:7–12)
On the first day of the week, when we were gathered together ato break bread, Paul talked with them, intending to depart on the next day, and he prolonged his speech until midnight. 8 There were many lamps in bthe upper room where we were gathered. 9 And a young man named Eutychus, sitting at the window, sank into a deep sleep as Paul talked still longer. And being overcome by sleep, he cfell down from the third story and was taken up dead. 10 But Paul went down and dbent over him, and taking him in his arms, said, e“Do not be alarmed, for his life is in him.” 11 And when Paul had gone up and fhad broken bread and eaten, he conversed with them a long while, until daybreak, and so departed. 12 And they took the youth away alive, and were not a little comforted.
Luke records only one incident during this week in Troas, namely the dramatic sleep, fall, death and resuscitation of a young man called Eutychus. Because it took place in the context of a worship service, however, the story is also instructive in the area of early Christian worship.
a. The death and resuscitation of Eutychus
On the first day of the week we came together to break bread (7a). How we interpret this ‘first day’ depends on whether we think Luke followed the Jewish reckoning of a day (from sunset to sunset) or the Roman (from midnight to midnight). It is because the NEB translators opted for the former that they rendered the opening expression ‘on the Saturday night’. And certainly the Bezan text of 19:9 ‘from the fifth hour to the tenth’ (11 a.m. to 4 p.m.) is a Jewish calculation, with the day beginning at 6 a.m. But here Luke is following the Roman way of reckoning, since the ‘daylight’ of verse 11 is already ‘the next day’ of verse 7. Professor Bruce is surely right, therefore, that Luke’s reference to ‘the first day of the week’, i.e. Sunday, ‘is the earliest unambiguous evidence we have for the Christian practice of gathering together for worship on that day’.24 Moreover, the purpose of their assembly was ‘to break bread’, which Luke understood as the Lord’s Supper in the context of a fellowship meal, as in the upper room in Jerusalem.25 In addition, Paul spoke to the people and, because he intended to leave the next day, kept on talking (JBP, ‘prolonged his address’) until midnight (7b).
Luke was himself present on this occasion (‘we came together’, 7, and ‘where we were meeting’, 8), so that he was able to supply several eyewitness details which help us to visualize the scene. First, it was an evening service or meeting, for if Paul’s address ended at [Acts, Page 320] midnight, it can hardly have begun at midday! No, it probably began at about sunset, the congregation assembling for worship at the conclusion of their day’s work. Next, the meeting was being held in a private house, upstairs (8), indeed on the third floor (9). Thirdly, there were many lamps in the upstairs room where we were meeting (8), so that the atmosphere became stuffy and oily, even for Eutychus who was seated in a window (9a; NEB, ‘was sitting on the window-ledge’), which, being unglazed, gave him some fresh air to breathe. Fourthly, although Eutychus is called ‘a young man’ (neanias) in verse 9, in verse 12 he is only a ‘boy’ (NEB, JB) or ‘lad’ (RSV), pais normally covering the years from 8 to 14. Fifthly, Luke does not intend us to attach any blame to the boy for falling asleep during the apostle’s sermon. For the impression is that he had a protracted struggle with his sleepiness. To begin with, he was gradually sinking into a deep sleep, or better ‘grew drowsy’; it was only as Paul talked on and on that he fell sound asleep (NEB, JBP, he was ‘completely overcome by sleep’) and the accident happened: he fell to the ground from the third storey and was picked up dead (9b). The NEB ‘picked up for dead’, hinting that he might not really have been dead, is definitely wrong. Luke declares that he was dead; as a doctor he could vouch for it.
One can imagine the confusion which then took over, as everybody tried to run downstairs. Paul at once suspended his sermon and himself went down. Then, surely following the precedent established by Elijah with the son of the widow at Zarephath26 and by Elisha with the son of the Shunammite woman,27 he threw himself on the young man and put his arms around him, and said, ‘Don’t be alarmed.… He’s alive!’ (10). This was not a statement that he was still alive in spite of his disastrous fall, but that as a result of Paul embracing him he had come alive again. Then he (Paul) went upstairs again and broke bread and ate, sharing in both the Lord’s Supper and the fellowship supper, which had evidently not been served previously. Paul also resumed his sermon and after talking until daylight, he left (11). Meanwhile, the people (relatives and friends, one may assume) took the young man home alive and were greatly comforted (12).
b. Some principles of Christian worship
What can we learn about Christian worship from that Sunday evening service in Troas many centuries ago? We will be wise to exercise due caution in answering this question, for Luke’s account is purely descriptive, and is not intended to be prescriptive. We have no liberty, therefore, to be slavish, either in copying what [Acts, Page 321] took place (e.g. assembling in a house, indeed on the third floor, meeting in the evening, using oil lamps for illumination and listening to an inordinately lengthy sermon) or in omitting what is not mentioned (e.g. prayers, psalms, hymns and Scripture readings). Nevertheless, there seem to be principles of public worship here, which are endorsed by biblical teaching elsewhere and are applicable to us today.
First, the disciples met on the Lord’s Day for the Lord’s Supper. At least verse 7 sounds like a description of the normal, regular practice of the church in Troas. And the evidence is that the Eucharist, as a thankful celebration of the now risen Saviour’s death, very early became the main Sunday service, in the context of an agapeœ, that is, a ‘love feast’ of fellowship meal.
Secondly, in addition to the supper there was a sermon, indeed a very long one, for its first part lasted from sunset to midnight (7), and its second from midnight to sunrise (11). Not that we are to envisage Paul’s preaching as purely monologue, since Luke uses the verb dialegomai twice (7, 9), which implies discussion, perhaps in the form of question and answers. The other word he uses is homileoœ (11), which JBP renders ‘a long earnest talk’ and NEB ‘much conversation’. It was clearly more free and open than a formal sermon. But at least the apostle took his teaching responsibility seriously. So should we. ‘There is no hint that Paul took the incident as a rebuke for long-windedness.’28 And since we have no living apostles comparable to Paul to instruct us today, we need to listen to the teaching of Christ’s apostles as it has come down to us in the New Testament. From the earliest days local churches began to make their own collection of the memoirs and letters of the apostles, and obeyed the repeated apostolic injunction to read them, alongside the law and the prophets, in the public assembly.29
So it is, thirdly, that word and sacrament were combined in the ministry given to the church at Troas, and the universal church has followed suit ever since. For God speaks to his people through his Word both as it is read and expounded from Scripture and as it is dramatized in the two gospel sacraments, baptism and the Lord’s Supper. Perhaps ‘word and sacrament’ is not the best or most accurate coupling, common though it is. For strictly speaking the sacrament itself is a word, a ‘visible word’ according to Augustine. What builds up the church more than anything else is the ministry of God’s word as it comes to us through Scripture and Sacrament (that is the right coupling), audibly and visibly, in declaration and drama.
Luke records only one incident during this week in Troas, namely the dramatic sleep, fall, death and resuscitation of a young man called Eutychus. Because it took place in the context of a worship service, however, the story is also instructive in the area of early Christian worship.
a. The death and resuscitation of Eutychus
On the first day of the week we came together to break bread (7a). How we interpret this ‘first day’ depends on whether we think Luke followed the Jewish reckoning of a day (from sunset to sunset) or the Roman (from midnight to midnight). It is because the NEB translators opted for the former that they rendered the opening expression ‘on the Saturday night’. And certainly the Bezan text of 19:9 ‘from the fifth hour to the tenth’ (11 a.m. to 4 p.m.) is a Jewish calculation, with the day beginning at 6 a.m. But here Luke is following the Roman way of reckoning, since the ‘daylight’ of verse 11 is already ‘the next day’ of verse 7. Professor Bruce is surely right, therefore, that Luke’s reference to ‘the first day of the week’, i.e. Sunday, ‘is the earliest unambiguous evidence we have for the Christian practice of gathering together for worship on that day’.24 Moreover, the purpose of their assembly was ‘to break bread’, which Luke understood as the Lord’s Supper in the context of a fellowship meal, as in the upper room in Jerusalem.25 In addition, Paul spoke to the people and, because he intended to leave the next day, kept on talking (JBP, ‘prolonged his address’) until midnight (7b).
Luke was himself present on this occasion (‘we came together’, 7, and ‘where we were meeting’, 8), so that he was able to supply several eyewitness details which help us to visualize the scene. First, it was an evening service or meeting, for if Paul’s address ended at [Acts, Page 320] midnight, it can hardly have begun at midday! No, it probably began at about sunset, the congregation assembling for worship at the conclusion of their day’s work. Next, the meeting was being held in a private house, upstairs (8), indeed on the third floor (9). Thirdly, there were many lamps in the upstairs room where we were meeting (8), so that the atmosphere became stuffy and oily, even for Eutychus who was seated in a window (9a; NEB, ‘was sitting on the window-ledge’), which, being unglazed, gave him some fresh air to breathe. Fourthly, although Eutychus is called ‘a young man’ (neanias) in verse 9, in verse 12 he is only a ‘boy’ (NEB, JB) or ‘lad’ (RSV), pais normally covering the years from 8 to 14. Fifthly, Luke does not intend us to attach any blame to the boy for falling asleep during the apostle’s sermon. For the impression is that he had a protracted struggle with his sleepiness. To begin with, he was gradually sinking into a deep sleep, or better ‘grew drowsy’; it was only as Paul talked on and on that he fell sound asleep (NEB, JBP, he was ‘completely overcome by sleep’) and the accident happened: he fell to the ground from the third storey and was picked up dead (9b). The NEB ‘picked up for dead’, hinting that he might not really have been dead, is definitely wrong. Luke declares that he was dead; as a doctor he could vouch for it.
One can imagine the confusion which then took over, as everybody tried to run downstairs. Paul at once suspended his sermon and himself went down. Then, surely following the precedent established by Elijah with the son of the widow at Zarephath26 and by Elisha with the son of the Shunammite woman,27 he threw himself on the young man and put his arms around him, and said, ‘Don’t be alarmed.… He’s alive!’ (10). This was not a statement that he was still alive in spite of his disastrous fall, but that as a result of Paul embracing him he had come alive again. Then he (Paul) went upstairs again and broke bread and ate, sharing in both the Lord’s Supper and the fellowship supper, which had evidently not been served previously. Paul also resumed his sermon and after talking until daylight, he left (11). Meanwhile, the people (relatives and friends, one may assume) took the young man home alive and were greatly comforted (12).
b. Some principles of Christian worship
What can we learn about Christian worship from that Sunday evening service in Troas many centuries ago? We will be wise to exercise due caution in answering this question, for Luke’s account is purely descriptive, and is not intended to be prescriptive. We have no liberty, therefore, to be slavish, either in copying what [Acts, Page 321] took place (e.g. assembling in a house, indeed on the third floor, meeting in the evening, using oil lamps for illumination and listening to an inordinately lengthy sermon) or in omitting what is not mentioned (e.g. prayers, psalms, hymns and Scripture readings). Nevertheless, there seem to be principles of public worship here, which are endorsed by biblical teaching elsewhere and are applicable to us today.
First, the disciples met on the Lord’s Day for the Lord’s Supper. At least verse 7 sounds like a description of the normal, regular practice of the church in Troas. And the evidence is that the Eucharist, as a thankful celebration of the now risen Saviour’s death, very early became the main Sunday service, in the context of an agapeœ, that is, a ‘love feast’ of fellowship meal.
Secondly, in addition to the supper there was a sermon, indeed a very long one, for its first part lasted from sunset to midnight (7), and its second from midnight to sunrise (11). Not that we are to envisage Paul’s preaching as purely monologue, since Luke uses the verb dialegomai twice (7, 9), which implies discussion, perhaps in the form of question and answers. The other word he uses is homileoœ (11), which JBP renders ‘a long earnest talk’ and NEB ‘much conversation’. It was clearly more free and open than a formal sermon. But at least the apostle took his teaching responsibility seriously. So should we. ‘There is no hint that Paul took the incident as a rebuke for long-windedness.’28 And since we have no living apostles comparable to Paul to instruct us today, we need to listen to the teaching of Christ’s apostles as it has come down to us in the New Testament. From the earliest days local churches began to make their own collection of the memoirs and letters of the apostles, and obeyed the repeated apostolic injunction to read them, alongside the law and the prophets, in the public assembly.29
So it is, thirdly, that word and sacrament were combined in the ministry given to the church at Troas, and the universal church has followed suit ever since. For God speaks to his people through his Word both as it is read and expounded from Scripture and as it is dramatized in the two gospel sacraments, baptism and the Lord’s Supper. Perhaps ‘word and sacrament’ is not the best or most accurate coupling, common though it is. For strictly speaking the sacrament itself is a word, a ‘visible word’ according to Augustine. What builds up the church more than anything else is the ministry of God’s word as it comes to us through Scripture and Sacrament (that is the right coupling), audibly and visibly, in declaration and drama.
Paul in northern and southern Greece
(Acts 20:2–6)
2 When he had gone through those regions and had given them much encouragement, he came to Greece. 3 There he spent three months, and when ra plot was made against him by the Jews1 as he was about to set sail for Syria, he decided to return through Macedonia. 4 Sopater the Berean, son of Pyrrhus, accompanied him; and of the Thessalonians, sAristarchus and Secundus; and sGaius of Derbe, and tTimothy; and the Asians, uTychicus and vTrophimus. 5 These went on ahead and were waiting for wus at xTroas, 6 but we sailed away from Philippi after ythe days of Unleavened Bread, and in five days we came to them at Troas, where we stayed for seven days.
Paul now travelled through that area (2a). He probably spent several months revisiting the Macedonian churches he had founded on his second missionary journey, namely Philippi, Thessalonica and Berea, and Luke characterized his ministry to them as speaking many words of encouragement to the people. The word is parakleœsis (the noun which is cognate with the verb parakaleoœ in verse 1), and it has a range of meanings from appeal and entreaty through exhortation and encouragement to comfort and consolation. It is a vital ministry in establishing Christian disciples, and the principal means of its exercise is, literally, ‘much word’. Nothing encourages and strengthens the people of God like the Word of God. It is likely also to have been during this period that Paul travelled further west along the Egnatian Way than he had previously gone, reaching even Illyricum on the Adriatic coast north of Macedonia.13
After these Macedonian journeys Paul finally arrived in Greece (2b), Hellas being the popular name for Achaia. Here, almost certainly in Corinth, he stayed three months (3a). Much had happened in his relations with the Corinthian church since his first visit which Luke has described. He had written them four letters, and even [Acts, Page 317] paid them an interim visit (the so-called ‘painful visit’ of 2 Cor. 2:1, which Luke does not mention). So he will have had much to talk about with the church’s leaders, in the realms of both doctrine and ethics. We also know that he finalized arrangements for the Corinthians’ share in the collection for the Judean churches.14 In addition, it was during this visit to Corinth that Paul wrote his major manifesto of Christian faith and life, his Letter to the Romans. In Romans 15 he explained that he had now ‘from Jerusalem all the way around to Illyricum … fully proclaimed the gospel of Christ’ and that in consequence ‘in these regions’ there was ‘no more place’ for him to work. That was why he hoped soon to visit Rome and go on to Spain.15
Paul’s three months in Corinth are likely to have been during the winter, while he waited for the spring weather to open up navigation on the high seas. His purpose was to sail for Syria direct, as he had done after his first visit (18:18). As he was about to embark, however, he heard that the Jews had made a plot against him. Ramsay imagines the situation: ‘Paul’s intention must have been to take a pilgrim ship carrying Achaian and Asian Jews to the Passover.… With a shipload of hostile Jews, it would be easy to find opportunity to murder Paul’16 and dump his body overboard. So Paul changed his plan at the last moment and decided to go back through Macedonia (3). The Bezan text adds that ‘the Spirit told him’ to do so. Yet it was his own decision; the two are not incompatible.
At this point Luke interrupts his narrative in order to tell us who Paul’s travelling companions were. It is noteworthy that Paul hardly ever travelled alone, and that when he was alone, he expressed his longing for human companionship, for example in Athens17 and in his final Roman imprisonment.18 That he favoured team work is specially clear during his missionary journeys. On his first he was accompanied by Barnabas and John Mark (until the latter defected), on his second by Silas and later Timothy, then Luke, and now at the end of his third Luke supplies his readers with a list of Paul’s friends. He was accompanied by Sopater (perhaps the same as the Sosipater who in Romans 16:21 is called one of Paul’s ‘relatives’) son of Pyrrhus from Berea, Aristarchus (19:29; 27:2) and Secundus from Thessalonica, Gaius from Derbe (probably the same as in 19:29, where one reading makes only Aristarchus a Macedonian, not Gaius), Timothy also, and Tychicus and Trophimus from the province of Asia. Trophimus came from Ephesus;19 [Acts, Page 318] perhaps Tychicus did also.20 In most cases Luke supplies these men’s home as well as their name in order both to identify them clearly and also (probably) to indicate how they represented the different regions which were taking part in the collection. Thus, Macedonia was represented by Sopater (Berea), Aristarchus and Secundus (Thessalonica) and perhaps Luke himself (Philippi); Galatia by Gaius (Derbe) and Timothy (Lystra); and Asia by Tychicus and Trophimus (Ephesus). Achaia is missing, but could have been represented by Paul himself, and/or by Titus,21 who according to Ramsay’s conjecture was a relative of Luke’s.22 This would mean that Paul’s entourage consisted of at least nine men.
Luke does not actually mention the offering in connection with them, although it must have been in his mind. In our minds, as we reflect on Paul’s associates, should be the threefold witness which they bear. The first is to the growth, unity, and even (one might say) ‘catholicity’ of the church. Already Christian leaders from inland and coastal Asia Minor, from both sides of the Aegean, and from the northern and southern halves of Greece, know that they belong to the same church and in consequence co-operate in the same cause. Secondly, they bear witness to the fruitfulness of Paul’s missionary expeditions, since Derbe and Lystra were evangelized during his first, Berea and Thessalonica during his second, and Ephesus during his third. All nine men must have been the fruits of mission. But they then became the agents of mission. For, thirdly, they give evidence of the missionary-mindedness of the young Christian communities, which already gave up some of their best local leadership to the wider work and witness of Christ’s church.
Reading between the lines of Luke’s compressed narrative, it seems that Paul and his group of associates left Corinth together and reached Philippi together. Perhaps it was here, and not earlier, that Luke joined the party (since the previous ‘we-section’ left him there, 16:12, and the next ‘we-section’ begins now in 20:5). Here too the group apparently split into two. These men, at least seven or eight of them, went on ahead and waited for us at Troas (5). But we (just Paul and Luke?) sailed from Philippi, that is, from its port Neapolis (16:11), only after the Feast of Unleavened Bread. This is unlikely to be a purely chronological note. Nor is Luke clearly saying that, having been foiled in his desire to celebrate the Passover in Jerusalem, Paul celebrated it in Philippi instead. Are we sure that he continued to observe the Jewish feasts, even though for a particular purpose he intended to get to Jerusalem in time for [Acts, Page 319] Pentecost (20:16)? I prefer Professor Howard Marshall’s explanation: ‘It is probable that he was celebrating the Christian Passover, i.e. Easter, with the church at Philippi (1 Cor. 5:7f.).’23 At all events, it was not until after the festival that they left Philippi, and then it was five days later that they joined the others at Troas. They must have encountered strong head winds, for their voyage in the opposite direction had taken only two days (16:11). Once in Troas, however, they stayed seven days (6).
2 When he had gone through those regions and had given them much encouragement, he came to Greece. 3 There he spent three months, and when ra plot was made against him by the Jews1 as he was about to set sail for Syria, he decided to return through Macedonia. 4 Sopater the Berean, son of Pyrrhus, accompanied him; and of the Thessalonians, sAristarchus and Secundus; and sGaius of Derbe, and tTimothy; and the Asians, uTychicus and vTrophimus. 5 These went on ahead and were waiting for wus at xTroas, 6 but we sailed away from Philippi after ythe days of Unleavened Bread, and in five days we came to them at Troas, where we stayed for seven days.
Paul now travelled through that area (2a). He probably spent several months revisiting the Macedonian churches he had founded on his second missionary journey, namely Philippi, Thessalonica and Berea, and Luke characterized his ministry to them as speaking many words of encouragement to the people. The word is parakleœsis (the noun which is cognate with the verb parakaleoœ in verse 1), and it has a range of meanings from appeal and entreaty through exhortation and encouragement to comfort and consolation. It is a vital ministry in establishing Christian disciples, and the principal means of its exercise is, literally, ‘much word’. Nothing encourages and strengthens the people of God like the Word of God. It is likely also to have been during this period that Paul travelled further west along the Egnatian Way than he had previously gone, reaching even Illyricum on the Adriatic coast north of Macedonia.13
After these Macedonian journeys Paul finally arrived in Greece (2b), Hellas being the popular name for Achaia. Here, almost certainly in Corinth, he stayed three months (3a). Much had happened in his relations with the Corinthian church since his first visit which Luke has described. He had written them four letters, and even [Acts, Page 317] paid them an interim visit (the so-called ‘painful visit’ of 2 Cor. 2:1, which Luke does not mention). So he will have had much to talk about with the church’s leaders, in the realms of both doctrine and ethics. We also know that he finalized arrangements for the Corinthians’ share in the collection for the Judean churches.14 In addition, it was during this visit to Corinth that Paul wrote his major manifesto of Christian faith and life, his Letter to the Romans. In Romans 15 he explained that he had now ‘from Jerusalem all the way around to Illyricum … fully proclaimed the gospel of Christ’ and that in consequence ‘in these regions’ there was ‘no more place’ for him to work. That was why he hoped soon to visit Rome and go on to Spain.15
Paul’s three months in Corinth are likely to have been during the winter, while he waited for the spring weather to open up navigation on the high seas. His purpose was to sail for Syria direct, as he had done after his first visit (18:18). As he was about to embark, however, he heard that the Jews had made a plot against him. Ramsay imagines the situation: ‘Paul’s intention must have been to take a pilgrim ship carrying Achaian and Asian Jews to the Passover.… With a shipload of hostile Jews, it would be easy to find opportunity to murder Paul’16 and dump his body overboard. So Paul changed his plan at the last moment and decided to go back through Macedonia (3). The Bezan text adds that ‘the Spirit told him’ to do so. Yet it was his own decision; the two are not incompatible.
At this point Luke interrupts his narrative in order to tell us who Paul’s travelling companions were. It is noteworthy that Paul hardly ever travelled alone, and that when he was alone, he expressed his longing for human companionship, for example in Athens17 and in his final Roman imprisonment.18 That he favoured team work is specially clear during his missionary journeys. On his first he was accompanied by Barnabas and John Mark (until the latter defected), on his second by Silas and later Timothy, then Luke, and now at the end of his third Luke supplies his readers with a list of Paul’s friends. He was accompanied by Sopater (perhaps the same as the Sosipater who in Romans 16:21 is called one of Paul’s ‘relatives’) son of Pyrrhus from Berea, Aristarchus (19:29; 27:2) and Secundus from Thessalonica, Gaius from Derbe (probably the same as in 19:29, where one reading makes only Aristarchus a Macedonian, not Gaius), Timothy also, and Tychicus and Trophimus from the province of Asia. Trophimus came from Ephesus;19 [Acts, Page 318] perhaps Tychicus did also.20 In most cases Luke supplies these men’s home as well as their name in order both to identify them clearly and also (probably) to indicate how they represented the different regions which were taking part in the collection. Thus, Macedonia was represented by Sopater (Berea), Aristarchus and Secundus (Thessalonica) and perhaps Luke himself (Philippi); Galatia by Gaius (Derbe) and Timothy (Lystra); and Asia by Tychicus and Trophimus (Ephesus). Achaia is missing, but could have been represented by Paul himself, and/or by Titus,21 who according to Ramsay’s conjecture was a relative of Luke’s.22 This would mean that Paul’s entourage consisted of at least nine men.
Luke does not actually mention the offering in connection with them, although it must have been in his mind. In our minds, as we reflect on Paul’s associates, should be the threefold witness which they bear. The first is to the growth, unity, and even (one might say) ‘catholicity’ of the church. Already Christian leaders from inland and coastal Asia Minor, from both sides of the Aegean, and from the northern and southern halves of Greece, know that they belong to the same church and in consequence co-operate in the same cause. Secondly, they bear witness to the fruitfulness of Paul’s missionary expeditions, since Derbe and Lystra were evangelized during his first, Berea and Thessalonica during his second, and Ephesus during his third. All nine men must have been the fruits of mission. But they then became the agents of mission. For, thirdly, they give evidence of the missionary-mindedness of the young Christian communities, which already gave up some of their best local leadership to the wider work and witness of Christ’s church.
Reading between the lines of Luke’s compressed narrative, it seems that Paul and his group of associates left Corinth together and reached Philippi together. Perhaps it was here, and not earlier, that Luke joined the party (since the previous ‘we-section’ left him there, 16:12, and the next ‘we-section’ begins now in 20:5). Here too the group apparently split into two. These men, at least seven or eight of them, went on ahead and waited for us at Troas (5). But we (just Paul and Luke?) sailed from Philippi, that is, from its port Neapolis (16:11), only after the Feast of Unleavened Bread. This is unlikely to be a purely chronological note. Nor is Luke clearly saying that, having been foiled in his desire to celebrate the Passover in Jerusalem, Paul celebrated it in Philippi instead. Are we sure that he continued to observe the Jewish feasts, even though for a particular purpose he intended to get to Jerusalem in time for [Acts, Page 319] Pentecost (20:16)? I prefer Professor Howard Marshall’s explanation: ‘It is probable that he was celebrating the Christian Passover, i.e. Easter, with the church at Philippi (1 Cor. 5:7f.).’23 At all events, it was not until after the festival that they left Philippi, and then it was five days later that they joined the others at Troas. They must have encountered strong head winds, for their voyage in the opposite direction had taken only two days (16:11). Once in Troas, however, they stayed seven days (6).
More about Ephesus
20:1–21:17
After the uproar ceased, Paul sent for the disciples, and after encouraging them, he said farewell and qdeparted for Macedonia.
Luke now narrates how Paul left Ephesus (20:1), having spent the best part of three years there during his third missionary expedition, and then travelled from place to place until at last he reached Jerusalem (21:17). True, Luke has let us into the secret that Paul was intending after visiting Jerusalem to make for Rome (19:21). Nevertheless, it was Jerusalem which filled his vision at this stage.
In fact, it is hard to resist the conclusion that Luke sees a parallel between Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem, which is prominent in his first volume, and Paul’s journey to Jerusalem, which he describes in his second. Of course the resemblance is far from being exact, and the mission of Jesus was unique; yet the correspondence between the two journeys seems too close to be a coincidence. (i) Like Jesus, Paul travelled to Jerusalem with a group of his disciples (20:4ff.).1 (ii) Like Jesus he was opposed by hostile Jews who plotted against his life (20:3, 19).2 (iii) Like Jesus he made or received three successive predictions of his ‘passion’ or sufferings (20:22–23; 21:4, 11)3 including his being handed over to the Gentiles (21:11).4 (iv) Like Jesus he declared his readiness to lay down his life (20:24; 21:13).5 (v) Like Jesus he was determined to complete his ministry and not be deflected from it (20:24; 21:13).6 (vi) Like Jesus he expressed his abandonment to the will of God (21:14).7 Even if some of these details are not to be pressed, Luke surely intends his readers to envisage Paul as following in his Master’s footsteps when he ‘steadfastly set his face to go to Jerusalem’.8
When the uproar had ended (1), and public order had been restored to the city of Ephesus, Paul sent for the disciples to come to him (was he still in hiding?) and, after encouraging them, he said good-bye. I imagine that his encouragement took the form of [Acts, Page 316] an exhortation similar to the one he would later give to their pastors in Miletus (20:17ff.). He will have urged them to remain loyal to Christ in spite of continuing persecution and ‘to live a life worthy of [their] calling’ as God’s new and holy people.9 Then he set out for Macedonia, intending to catch up with Timothy and Erastus, whom he had sent on ahead of him (19:22). Whether he went by sea or by road, he must have journeyed north, and his first main stop is likely to have been Troas. Here he had expected ‘to preach the gospel of Christ’, and indeed he ‘found that the Lord had opened a door’ for him there.10 Unfortunately, however, he was unable to exploit this opportunity. For he had also expected to find Titus in Troas, whom he had recently sent on an important fact-finding mission to Corinth. But Titus was not there to meet him, and so, because he ‘had no peace of mind’, instead of staying to evangelize in Troas, he ‘went on to Macedonia’.11 It was later, probably in Philippi, that Paul’s longed-for rendez-vous with Titus took place and his anxiety was transformed into joy.12 The good news Titus brought, along with other information, prompted Paul to write what we call his Second Letter to the Corinthians (which was actually his fourth).
After the uproar ceased, Paul sent for the disciples, and after encouraging them, he said farewell and qdeparted for Macedonia.
Luke now narrates how Paul left Ephesus (20:1), having spent the best part of three years there during his third missionary expedition, and then travelled from place to place until at last he reached Jerusalem (21:17). True, Luke has let us into the secret that Paul was intending after visiting Jerusalem to make for Rome (19:21). Nevertheless, it was Jerusalem which filled his vision at this stage.
In fact, it is hard to resist the conclusion that Luke sees a parallel between Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem, which is prominent in his first volume, and Paul’s journey to Jerusalem, which he describes in his second. Of course the resemblance is far from being exact, and the mission of Jesus was unique; yet the correspondence between the two journeys seems too close to be a coincidence. (i) Like Jesus, Paul travelled to Jerusalem with a group of his disciples (20:4ff.).1 (ii) Like Jesus he was opposed by hostile Jews who plotted against his life (20:3, 19).2 (iii) Like Jesus he made or received three successive predictions of his ‘passion’ or sufferings (20:22–23; 21:4, 11)3 including his being handed over to the Gentiles (21:11).4 (iv) Like Jesus he declared his readiness to lay down his life (20:24; 21:13).5 (v) Like Jesus he was determined to complete his ministry and not be deflected from it (20:24; 21:13).6 (vi) Like Jesus he expressed his abandonment to the will of God (21:14).7 Even if some of these details are not to be pressed, Luke surely intends his readers to envisage Paul as following in his Master’s footsteps when he ‘steadfastly set his face to go to Jerusalem’.8
When the uproar had ended (1), and public order had been restored to the city of Ephesus, Paul sent for the disciples to come to him (was he still in hiding?) and, after encouraging them, he said good-bye. I imagine that his encouragement took the form of [Acts, Page 316] an exhortation similar to the one he would later give to their pastors in Miletus (20:17ff.). He will have urged them to remain loyal to Christ in spite of continuing persecution and ‘to live a life worthy of [their] calling’ as God’s new and holy people.9 Then he set out for Macedonia, intending to catch up with Timothy and Erastus, whom he had sent on ahead of him (19:22). Whether he went by sea or by road, he must have journeyed north, and his first main stop is likely to have been Troas. Here he had expected ‘to preach the gospel of Christ’, and indeed he ‘found that the Lord had opened a door’ for him there.10 Unfortunately, however, he was unable to exploit this opportunity. For he had also expected to find Titus in Troas, whom he had recently sent on an important fact-finding mission to Corinth. But Titus was not there to meet him, and so, because he ‘had no peace of mind’, instead of staying to evangelize in Troas, he ‘went on to Macedonia’.11 It was later, probably in Philippi, that Paul’s longed-for rendez-vous with Titus took place and his anxiety was transformed into joy.12 The good news Titus brought, along with other information, prompted Paul to write what we call his Second Letter to the Corinthians (which was actually his fourth).
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Paul’s strategy for urban evangelism
4. Paul’s strategy for urban evangelism
Stott:
In spite of the obvious cultural differences between first-century cities in the Roman Empire and the great urban complexes of today, there are also similarities. We may learn from Paul in Corinth and Ephesus important lessons about the where, the how and the when of urban evangelism.
a. The secular places he chose
It is true that in both Corinth and Ephesus he began in the Jewish synagogue; that was his custom. But when the Jews rejected the gospel, he withdrew from the synagogue and moved to a neutral building instead. In Corinth he chose a private house, the home of Titius Justus, while in Ephesus he rented the lecture hall of Tyrannus. And easily the greater part of his evangelistic ministry in both [Acts, Page 312] cities was spent in these secular situations.
In our day we still have to evangelize the religious. The equivalent to the synagogue in our culture is the church. It is here that the Scriptures are read, prayer is offered, and ‘God-fearers’ congregate, people on the fringe who are attracted but not committed. The gospel must be proclaimed to them. But we must not limit our evangelism to the religious and neglect the irreligious. If religious people can be reached in religious buildings, secular people have to be reached in secular buildings. Perhaps the equivalent to Paul’s use of the house of Titius Justus is home evangelism, and the equivalent to his use of the hall of Tyrannus is lecture evangelism. People will come to a home, to listen to an informal talk and engage in free discussion, who would never darken the door of a church, and there is an important place for apologetic and/or explanatory Christian lectures in the local collage or university or in some other neutral, public place.
b. The reasoned presentation he made
Luke uses several verbs to describe Paul’s evangelistic preaching. But two of them stand out in these chapters. Each occurs four times, almost equally divided between his ministry in Corinth and in Ephesus. They are the verbs to ‘reason’ or ‘argue’ (dialegomai) and to ‘persuade’ (peithooœ). In Corinth ‘every Sabbath he reasoned in the synagogue, trying to persuade Jews and Greeks’ (18:4). In consequence, the Jews complained to Gallio that ‘this man is persuading the people …’ (18:13). In Ephesus Paul spoke boldly in the synagogue for three months, ‘arguing persuasively [literally, “arguing and persuading”] about the kingdom of God’ (19:8), and then after withdrawing from the synagogue he ‘had discussions daily’ [RSV, ‘argued daily’] in the hall of Tyrannus (19:9). Thus both in the religious context of the synagogue and in the secular context of the lecture hall, Paul combined argument and persuasion. As a result, Demetrius was able to complain that ‘this fellow Paul has convinced [RSV, “persuaded”] … large numbers of people …’ (19:26). Martin Hengel conjectures plausibly that Paul’s letters (especially Romans and parts of 1 and 2 Corinthians) ‘contain brief summaries of lectures and … the much reduced quintessence of what Paul taught’ during those years in Tyrannus’ lecture theatre.63
This vocabulary shows that Paul’s presentation of the gospel was serious, well reasoned and persuasive. Because he believed the gospel to be true, he was not afraid to engage the minds of his hearers. He did not simply proclaim his message in a ‘take it or leave it’ fashion; instead, he marshalled arguments to support and [Acts, Page 313] demonstrate his case. He was seeking to convince in order to convert, and in fact, as Luke makes plain, many were ‘persuaded’. Luke indicates, moreover, that this was Paul’s method even in Corinth. What he renounced in Corinth64 was the wisdom of the world, not the wisdom of God, and the rhetoric of the Greeks, not the use of arguments. Arguments of course are no substitute for the work of the Holy Spirit. But then trust in the Holy Spirit is no substitute for arguments either. We must never set them over against each other as alternatives. No, the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of truth, and he brings people to faith in Jesus not in spite of the evidence, but because of the evidence, when he opens their minds to attend to it.
c. The extended periods he stayed
Luke is careful to give us the details. In Corinth Paul began by preaching in the synagogue every sabbath, presumably for several weeks or months, and then moved to the house of Titius Justus and ‘stayed for a year and a half, teaching … the word of God’ (18:11). Next, he ‘stayed on in Corinth for some time’ (18:18), so that probably he was in the city for about two years altogether. In Ephesus he began with three months in the synagogue and then lectured for two years in Tyrannus’ lecture hall (19:8, 10). Since later he also ‘stayed in the province of Asia a little longer’ (19:22), it is understandable that he could later refer to his ministry in Ephesus as having lasted ‘for three years’ (20:31). Thus he spent two years in Corinth and three years in Ephesus, and in both cases his teaching was comprehensive and thorough.
His use of the lecture hall of Tyrannus was specially remarkable. The accepted text says that he lectured there daily for two years, but the Bezan text adds that he did it ‘from the fifth hour to the tenth’ (19:9, RSV margin), that is, from 11 o’clock in the morning to 4 o’clock in the afternoon. Dr Bruce Metzger thinks that this addition ‘may represent an accurate piece of information, preserved in oral tradition before being incorporated into the text of certain manuscripts’.65 According to Ramsay, ‘public life in the Ionian cities ended regularly at the fifth hour’,66 that is, at 11 a.m., having begun at sunrise and continued during the cool of the early morning. But at 11 the city stopped work, not for ‘elevenses’, but for an elongated siesta! According to Lake and Cadbury, ‘at 1 p.m. there were probably more people sound asleep than at 1 a.m.’67 But Paul did not sleep in the daytime. Until 11 a.m. he would work at his tentmaking and Tyrannus would give his lectures. At 11, however, [Acts, Page 314] Tyrannus would go to rest, ‘the lecture-room would be disengaged’,68 and Paul would exchange leather-work for lecture-work, continuing for five hours, and stopping only at 4 p.m. when work was resumed in the city. Assuming that the apostle kept one day in seven for worship and rest, he will have given a daily five-hour lecture six days a week for two years, which makes 3,120 hours of gospel argument! It is not surprising that Luke continues: ‘all the Jews and Greeks who lived in the province of Asia heard the word of the Lord’ (19:10). For all the roads of Asia converged on Ephesus, and all the inhabitants of Asia visited Ephesus from time to time, to buy or sell, visit a relative, frequent the baths, attend the games in the stadium, watch a drama in the theatre, or worship the goddess. And while they were in Ephesus, they heard of this Christian lecturer named Paul, who was both speaking and answering questions for five hours in the middle of every day. Evidently many dropped in, listened and were converted. They then returned to their towns and villages as born-again believers. Thus the gospel must have spread to the Lycus valley and to its chief towns Colosse, Laodicea and Hierapolis, which Epaphras had visited but Paul had not,69 and perhaps to the remaining five of the seven churches of Revelation 2 and 3, namely Smyrna, Pergamum, Thyatira, Sardis and Philadelphia. This is a fine strategy for the great university and capital cities of the world. If the gospel is reasonably, systematically and thoroughly unfolded in the city centre, visitors will hear it, embrace it and take it back with them to their homes.
When we contrast much contemporary evangelism with Paul’s its shallowness is immediately shown up. Our evangelism tends to be too ecclesiastical (inviting people to church), whereas Paul also took the gospel out into the secular world; too emotional (appeals for decision without an adequate basis of understanding), whereas Paul taught, reasoned and tried to persuade; and too superficial (making brief encounters and expecting quick results), whereas Paul stayed in Corinth and Ephesus for five years, faithfully sowing gospel seed and in due time reaping a harvest.
Stott:
In spite of the obvious cultural differences between first-century cities in the Roman Empire and the great urban complexes of today, there are also similarities. We may learn from Paul in Corinth and Ephesus important lessons about the where, the how and the when of urban evangelism.
a. The secular places he chose
It is true that in both Corinth and Ephesus he began in the Jewish synagogue; that was his custom. But when the Jews rejected the gospel, he withdrew from the synagogue and moved to a neutral building instead. In Corinth he chose a private house, the home of Titius Justus, while in Ephesus he rented the lecture hall of Tyrannus. And easily the greater part of his evangelistic ministry in both [Acts, Page 312] cities was spent in these secular situations.
In our day we still have to evangelize the religious. The equivalent to the synagogue in our culture is the church. It is here that the Scriptures are read, prayer is offered, and ‘God-fearers’ congregate, people on the fringe who are attracted but not committed. The gospel must be proclaimed to them. But we must not limit our evangelism to the religious and neglect the irreligious. If religious people can be reached in religious buildings, secular people have to be reached in secular buildings. Perhaps the equivalent to Paul’s use of the house of Titius Justus is home evangelism, and the equivalent to his use of the hall of Tyrannus is lecture evangelism. People will come to a home, to listen to an informal talk and engage in free discussion, who would never darken the door of a church, and there is an important place for apologetic and/or explanatory Christian lectures in the local collage or university or in some other neutral, public place.
b. The reasoned presentation he made
Luke uses several verbs to describe Paul’s evangelistic preaching. But two of them stand out in these chapters. Each occurs four times, almost equally divided between his ministry in Corinth and in Ephesus. They are the verbs to ‘reason’ or ‘argue’ (dialegomai) and to ‘persuade’ (peithooœ). In Corinth ‘every Sabbath he reasoned in the synagogue, trying to persuade Jews and Greeks’ (18:4). In consequence, the Jews complained to Gallio that ‘this man is persuading the people …’ (18:13). In Ephesus Paul spoke boldly in the synagogue for three months, ‘arguing persuasively [literally, “arguing and persuading”] about the kingdom of God’ (19:8), and then after withdrawing from the synagogue he ‘had discussions daily’ [RSV, ‘argued daily’] in the hall of Tyrannus (19:9). Thus both in the religious context of the synagogue and in the secular context of the lecture hall, Paul combined argument and persuasion. As a result, Demetrius was able to complain that ‘this fellow Paul has convinced [RSV, “persuaded”] … large numbers of people …’ (19:26). Martin Hengel conjectures plausibly that Paul’s letters (especially Romans and parts of 1 and 2 Corinthians) ‘contain brief summaries of lectures and … the much reduced quintessence of what Paul taught’ during those years in Tyrannus’ lecture theatre.63
This vocabulary shows that Paul’s presentation of the gospel was serious, well reasoned and persuasive. Because he believed the gospel to be true, he was not afraid to engage the minds of his hearers. He did not simply proclaim his message in a ‘take it or leave it’ fashion; instead, he marshalled arguments to support and [Acts, Page 313] demonstrate his case. He was seeking to convince in order to convert, and in fact, as Luke makes plain, many were ‘persuaded’. Luke indicates, moreover, that this was Paul’s method even in Corinth. What he renounced in Corinth64 was the wisdom of the world, not the wisdom of God, and the rhetoric of the Greeks, not the use of arguments. Arguments of course are no substitute for the work of the Holy Spirit. But then trust in the Holy Spirit is no substitute for arguments either. We must never set them over against each other as alternatives. No, the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of truth, and he brings people to faith in Jesus not in spite of the evidence, but because of the evidence, when he opens their minds to attend to it.
c. The extended periods he stayed
Luke is careful to give us the details. In Corinth Paul began by preaching in the synagogue every sabbath, presumably for several weeks or months, and then moved to the house of Titius Justus and ‘stayed for a year and a half, teaching … the word of God’ (18:11). Next, he ‘stayed on in Corinth for some time’ (18:18), so that probably he was in the city for about two years altogether. In Ephesus he began with three months in the synagogue and then lectured for two years in Tyrannus’ lecture hall (19:8, 10). Since later he also ‘stayed in the province of Asia a little longer’ (19:22), it is understandable that he could later refer to his ministry in Ephesus as having lasted ‘for three years’ (20:31). Thus he spent two years in Corinth and three years in Ephesus, and in both cases his teaching was comprehensive and thorough.
His use of the lecture hall of Tyrannus was specially remarkable. The accepted text says that he lectured there daily for two years, but the Bezan text adds that he did it ‘from the fifth hour to the tenth’ (19:9, RSV margin), that is, from 11 o’clock in the morning to 4 o’clock in the afternoon. Dr Bruce Metzger thinks that this addition ‘may represent an accurate piece of information, preserved in oral tradition before being incorporated into the text of certain manuscripts’.65 According to Ramsay, ‘public life in the Ionian cities ended regularly at the fifth hour’,66 that is, at 11 a.m., having begun at sunrise and continued during the cool of the early morning. But at 11 the city stopped work, not for ‘elevenses’, but for an elongated siesta! According to Lake and Cadbury, ‘at 1 p.m. there were probably more people sound asleep than at 1 a.m.’67 But Paul did not sleep in the daytime. Until 11 a.m. he would work at his tentmaking and Tyrannus would give his lectures. At 11, however, [Acts, Page 314] Tyrannus would go to rest, ‘the lecture-room would be disengaged’,68 and Paul would exchange leather-work for lecture-work, continuing for five hours, and stopping only at 4 p.m. when work was resumed in the city. Assuming that the apostle kept one day in seven for worship and rest, he will have given a daily five-hour lecture six days a week for two years, which makes 3,120 hours of gospel argument! It is not surprising that Luke continues: ‘all the Jews and Greeks who lived in the province of Asia heard the word of the Lord’ (19:10). For all the roads of Asia converged on Ephesus, and all the inhabitants of Asia visited Ephesus from time to time, to buy or sell, visit a relative, frequent the baths, attend the games in the stadium, watch a drama in the theatre, or worship the goddess. And while they were in Ephesus, they heard of this Christian lecturer named Paul, who was both speaking and answering questions for five hours in the middle of every day. Evidently many dropped in, listened and were converted. They then returned to their towns and villages as born-again believers. Thus the gospel must have spread to the Lycus valley and to its chief towns Colosse, Laodicea and Hierapolis, which Epaphras had visited but Paul had not,69 and perhaps to the remaining five of the seven churches of Revelation 2 and 3, namely Smyrna, Pergamum, Thyatira, Sardis and Philadelphia. This is a fine strategy for the great university and capital cities of the world. If the gospel is reasonably, systematically and thoroughly unfolded in the city centre, visitors will hear it, embrace it and take it back with them to their homes.
When we contrast much contemporary evangelism with Paul’s its shallowness is immediately shown up. Our evangelism tends to be too ecclesiastical (inviting people to church), whereas Paul also took the gospel out into the secular world; too emotional (appeals for decision without an adequate basis of understanding), whereas Paul taught, reasoned and tried to persuade; and too superficial (making brief encounters and expecting quick results), whereas Paul stayed in Corinth and Ephesus for five years, faithfully sowing gospel seed and in due time reaping a harvest.
The riot in the city (19:23–41)
The riot in the city (Acts 19:23–41)
Stott:-
Luke gives his readers a graphic account of the riot which Demetrius the silversmith instigated and the town clerk skilfully quelled. Perhaps he obtained his information from Aristarchus and/or Gaius, who found themselves caught up in the uproar (29) and later became Paul’s and Luke’s travelling companions (20:4–6). Haenchen’s presuppositions lead him to find in the story ‘a regular tangle of difficulties’.53 He elaborates six of them. But Howard Marshall is right to say that Haenchen’s case ‘disappears under scrutiny’. He gives an adequate explanation of each supposed problem.54 Luke’s narrative divides itself naturally into three sections relating to the origin, course and termination of the riot.
First, its origin. It was inevitable that sooner or later the kingly authority of Jesus would challenge Diana’s evil sway.
23About that time there arose a great disturbance about the Way. 24A silversmith named Demetrius, who made silver shrines of Artemis, brought in no little business for the craftsmen. 25He called them together, along with the workmen in related trades, and said: ‘Men, you know we receive a good income from this business. 26And you see and hear how this fellow Paul has convinced and led astray large numbers of people here in Ephesus and in practically the whole province of Asia. He says that man-made gods are no gods at all. 27There is danger not only that our trade will lose its good name, but also that the temple of the great goddess Artemis will be discredited, and the goddess herself, who is worshipped throughout the province of Asia and the world, will be robbed of her divine majesty.’
Luke declares that the disturbance arose ‘about the Way’ (NEB, ‘the Christian movement’). At root its cause was neither doctrinal, nor ethical, but economic. Demetrius, whom Ramsay called ‘probably Master of the guild (sc. of silversmiths) for the year’,55 drew the [Acts, Page 309] attention of his and other craftsmen to Paul’s success in convincing people ‘that man-made gods are no gods at all’. In consequence, the sales of ‘silver shrines of Artemis’ (either miniature models of the temple or statuettes of the goddess) were dwindling and their affluent life-style was threatened. Not that Demetrius played directly on their covetousness, however. He was subtle enough to develop three more respectable motives for concern, namely the dangers that their trade would lose its good name, their temple its prestige, and their goddess her divine majesty (27). Thus ‘vested interests were disguised as local patriotism—in this case also under the cloak of religious zeal’.56
Demetrius proved to be a skilled rabble-rouser, for the artisans’ response was immediate.
28When they heard this, they were furious and began shouting: ‘Great is Artemis of the Ephesians!’ 29Soon the whole city was in an uproar. The people seized Gaius and Aristarchus, Paul’s travelling companions from Macedonia, and rushed as one man into the theatre. 30Paul wanted to appear before the crowd, but the disciples would not let him. 31Even some of the officials of the province, friends of Paul, sent him a message begging him not to venture into the theatre.
32The assembly was in confusion: Some were shouting one thing, some another. Most of the people did not even know why they were there. 33The Jews pushed Alexander to the front, and some of the crowd shouted instructions to him. He motioned for silence in order to make a defence before the people. 34But when they realised he was a Jew, they all shouted in unison for about two hours: ‘Great is Artemis of the Ephesians!’
‘The most impressive ruins in Asia Minor …, Ephesus stands dignified and alone in its death’, wrote H. V. Morton.57 The excavated site is magnificent; it is easy to visualize the riot. According to the Bezan text of verse 28, the infuriated craftsmen went ‘running into the street’ before they started to shout for Diana. This was probably the Arcadian Way, the main thoroughfare of Ephesus, eleven metres wide, marble-paved and colonnaded, leading from the harbour to the theatre. The theatre itself, still in a fine state of preservation, nestling at the foot of Mount Pion and nearly 500 feet in diameter, could accommodate at least 25,000 people. Here the crowed dragged Gaius and Aristarchus. And here Paul (overconfident perhaps in the immunity he believed his Roman citizenship would give him) was prevented from coming by the pleas of both the disciples and by some ‘officials of the province’ who were [Acts, Page 310] his friends (31). Luke rightly calls them ‘Asiarchs’. These were leading citizens, who were prominent members of the provincial council of Asia, especially its ‘annual presidents and perhaps expresidents’, and/or the city’s deputies who served on it, and/or ‘the administrators of the various temples of the imperial cult, who were under the charge of high priests appointed by the provincial council’.58 Paul was fortunate to have the friendship and the advice of some of them. By now confusion reigned in the theatre. Some people were shouting this or that, but most of them had no idea why they were there. A diversion was caused when some Jews tried to put forward their spokesman, no doubt in order to disassociate Jews from Christians, but the crowd, who would not have comprehended the distinction, shouted him down and for two hours resumed their chanting of Diana’s name. Indeed, this section begins and ends with the hysterical screams ‘Great is Artemis of the Ephesians!’ (28, 34). Haenchen is right to comment that ‘in final analysis the only thing heathenism can do against Paul is to shout itself hoarse’.59
Luke now describes how the crowd’s frenzy was calmed by ‘the city clerk’ (grammateus, 35), who was ‘the elected head of the city executive’60 or ‘the chief administrative assistant, annually elected, of the magistrates; he had a staff of permanent clerks, responsible for the paper work of the city’.61
35The city clerk quietened the crowd and said: ‘Men of Ephesus, doesn’t all the world know that the city of Ephesus is the guardian of the temple of the great Artemis and of her image, which fell from heaven? 36Therefore, since these facts are undeniable, you ought to be quiet and not do anything rash. 37You have brought these men here, though they have neither robbed temples not blasphemed our goddess. 38If, then, Demetrius and his fellow craftsmen have a grievance against anybody, the courts are open and there are proconsuls. They can press charges. 39If there is anything further you want to bring up, it must be settled in a legal assembly. 40As it is, we are in danger of being charged with rioting because of today’s events. In that case we would not be able to account for this commotion, since there is no reason for it.’ 41After he had said this, he dismissed the assembly.
This city clerk was evidently a man of high intelligence and of great skill in crowd control. He made four points. First, the whole world knows that Ephesus is the guardian of Artemis’ temple and image. Since this is undeniable, no-one is going to deny it, and the [Acts, Page 311] cult of Artemis is in no danger (35–36). Secondly, ‘these men’ (Gaius and Aristarchus) are guilty of neither sacrilege (robbing the temple) nor blasphemy (reviling the goddess). They are innocent (37). Thirdly, Demetrius and his colleagues are familiar with statutory legal procedures. If they have a private grievance, they should bring their case to the proconsular assizes. If, on the other hand, their case is more serious and more public, they should refer it to ‘a legal assembly’, the correct technical term for the regular (three times a month) official meetings of the deœmos or city council (38–39). As Dr Sherwin-White comments, Luke ‘is very well informed about the finer points of municipal institutions at Ephesus in the first and second centuries AD’.62 Fourthly, the citizens of Ephesus are themselves in danger of being charged with civil disorder. If this were to happen, they would not be able to justify themselves. Each of these arguments was cogent; the four together were decisive. When the town clerk ‘dismissed the assembly’, they went home in a very chastened mood.
Luke’s purpose in recounting this incident was clearly apologetic or political. He wanted to show that Rome had no case against Christianity in general or Paul in particular. In Corinth the proconsul Gallio had refused even to hear the Jews’ charge. In Ephesus the town clerk implied that the opposition was purely emotional and that the Christians, being innocent, had nothing to fear from duly constituted legal processes. Thus the impartiality of Gallio, the friendship of Asiarchs and the cool reasonableness of the city clerk combined to give the gospel freedom to continue on its victorious course.
Stott:-
Luke gives his readers a graphic account of the riot which Demetrius the silversmith instigated and the town clerk skilfully quelled. Perhaps he obtained his information from Aristarchus and/or Gaius, who found themselves caught up in the uproar (29) and later became Paul’s and Luke’s travelling companions (20:4–6). Haenchen’s presuppositions lead him to find in the story ‘a regular tangle of difficulties’.53 He elaborates six of them. But Howard Marshall is right to say that Haenchen’s case ‘disappears under scrutiny’. He gives an adequate explanation of each supposed problem.54 Luke’s narrative divides itself naturally into three sections relating to the origin, course and termination of the riot.
First, its origin. It was inevitable that sooner or later the kingly authority of Jesus would challenge Diana’s evil sway.
23About that time there arose a great disturbance about the Way. 24A silversmith named Demetrius, who made silver shrines of Artemis, brought in no little business for the craftsmen. 25He called them together, along with the workmen in related trades, and said: ‘Men, you know we receive a good income from this business. 26And you see and hear how this fellow Paul has convinced and led astray large numbers of people here in Ephesus and in practically the whole province of Asia. He says that man-made gods are no gods at all. 27There is danger not only that our trade will lose its good name, but also that the temple of the great goddess Artemis will be discredited, and the goddess herself, who is worshipped throughout the province of Asia and the world, will be robbed of her divine majesty.’
Luke declares that the disturbance arose ‘about the Way’ (NEB, ‘the Christian movement’). At root its cause was neither doctrinal, nor ethical, but economic. Demetrius, whom Ramsay called ‘probably Master of the guild (sc. of silversmiths) for the year’,55 drew the [Acts, Page 309] attention of his and other craftsmen to Paul’s success in convincing people ‘that man-made gods are no gods at all’. In consequence, the sales of ‘silver shrines of Artemis’ (either miniature models of the temple or statuettes of the goddess) were dwindling and their affluent life-style was threatened. Not that Demetrius played directly on their covetousness, however. He was subtle enough to develop three more respectable motives for concern, namely the dangers that their trade would lose its good name, their temple its prestige, and their goddess her divine majesty (27). Thus ‘vested interests were disguised as local patriotism—in this case also under the cloak of religious zeal’.56
Demetrius proved to be a skilled rabble-rouser, for the artisans’ response was immediate.
28When they heard this, they were furious and began shouting: ‘Great is Artemis of the Ephesians!’ 29Soon the whole city was in an uproar. The people seized Gaius and Aristarchus, Paul’s travelling companions from Macedonia, and rushed as one man into the theatre. 30Paul wanted to appear before the crowd, but the disciples would not let him. 31Even some of the officials of the province, friends of Paul, sent him a message begging him not to venture into the theatre.
32The assembly was in confusion: Some were shouting one thing, some another. Most of the people did not even know why they were there. 33The Jews pushed Alexander to the front, and some of the crowd shouted instructions to him. He motioned for silence in order to make a defence before the people. 34But when they realised he was a Jew, they all shouted in unison for about two hours: ‘Great is Artemis of the Ephesians!’
‘The most impressive ruins in Asia Minor …, Ephesus stands dignified and alone in its death’, wrote H. V. Morton.57 The excavated site is magnificent; it is easy to visualize the riot. According to the Bezan text of verse 28, the infuriated craftsmen went ‘running into the street’ before they started to shout for Diana. This was probably the Arcadian Way, the main thoroughfare of Ephesus, eleven metres wide, marble-paved and colonnaded, leading from the harbour to the theatre. The theatre itself, still in a fine state of preservation, nestling at the foot of Mount Pion and nearly 500 feet in diameter, could accommodate at least 25,000 people. Here the crowed dragged Gaius and Aristarchus. And here Paul (overconfident perhaps in the immunity he believed his Roman citizenship would give him) was prevented from coming by the pleas of both the disciples and by some ‘officials of the province’ who were [Acts, Page 310] his friends (31). Luke rightly calls them ‘Asiarchs’. These were leading citizens, who were prominent members of the provincial council of Asia, especially its ‘annual presidents and perhaps expresidents’, and/or the city’s deputies who served on it, and/or ‘the administrators of the various temples of the imperial cult, who were under the charge of high priests appointed by the provincial council’.58 Paul was fortunate to have the friendship and the advice of some of them. By now confusion reigned in the theatre. Some people were shouting this or that, but most of them had no idea why they were there. A diversion was caused when some Jews tried to put forward their spokesman, no doubt in order to disassociate Jews from Christians, but the crowd, who would not have comprehended the distinction, shouted him down and for two hours resumed their chanting of Diana’s name. Indeed, this section begins and ends with the hysterical screams ‘Great is Artemis of the Ephesians!’ (28, 34). Haenchen is right to comment that ‘in final analysis the only thing heathenism can do against Paul is to shout itself hoarse’.59
Luke now describes how the crowd’s frenzy was calmed by ‘the city clerk’ (grammateus, 35), who was ‘the elected head of the city executive’60 or ‘the chief administrative assistant, annually elected, of the magistrates; he had a staff of permanent clerks, responsible for the paper work of the city’.61
35The city clerk quietened the crowd and said: ‘Men of Ephesus, doesn’t all the world know that the city of Ephesus is the guardian of the temple of the great Artemis and of her image, which fell from heaven? 36Therefore, since these facts are undeniable, you ought to be quiet and not do anything rash. 37You have brought these men here, though they have neither robbed temples not blasphemed our goddess. 38If, then, Demetrius and his fellow craftsmen have a grievance against anybody, the courts are open and there are proconsuls. They can press charges. 39If there is anything further you want to bring up, it must be settled in a legal assembly. 40As it is, we are in danger of being charged with rioting because of today’s events. In that case we would not be able to account for this commotion, since there is no reason for it.’ 41After he had said this, he dismissed the assembly.
This city clerk was evidently a man of high intelligence and of great skill in crowd control. He made four points. First, the whole world knows that Ephesus is the guardian of Artemis’ temple and image. Since this is undeniable, no-one is going to deny it, and the [Acts, Page 311] cult of Artemis is in no danger (35–36). Secondly, ‘these men’ (Gaius and Aristarchus) are guilty of neither sacrilege (robbing the temple) nor blasphemy (reviling the goddess). They are innocent (37). Thirdly, Demetrius and his colleagues are familiar with statutory legal procedures. If they have a private grievance, they should bring their case to the proconsular assizes. If, on the other hand, their case is more serious and more public, they should refer it to ‘a legal assembly’, the correct technical term for the regular (three times a month) official meetings of the deœmos or city council (38–39). As Dr Sherwin-White comments, Luke ‘is very well informed about the finer points of municipal institutions at Ephesus in the first and second centuries AD’.62 Fourthly, the citizens of Ephesus are themselves in danger of being charged with civil disorder. If this were to happen, they would not be able to justify themselves. Each of these arguments was cogent; the four together were decisive. When the town clerk ‘dismissed the assembly’, they went home in a very chastened mood.
Luke’s purpose in recounting this incident was clearly apologetic or political. He wanted to show that Rome had no case against Christianity in general or Paul in particular. In Corinth the proconsul Gallio had refused even to hear the Jews’ charge. In Ephesus the town clerk implied that the opposition was purely emotional and that the Christians, being innocent, had nothing to fear from duly constituted legal processes. Thus the impartiality of Gallio, the friendship of Asiarchs and the cool reasonableness of the city clerk combined to give the gospel freedom to continue on its victorious course.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
They replaced Judas with Matthias as an apostle (1:15–26)
4. They replaced Judas with Matthias as an apostle (1:15–26)
Having recorded the Lord’s commission to witness, his ascension, [Acts, Page 55] and the disciples’ persevering prayers, Luke draws our attention to only one further action before Pentecost (in those days is vague enough to date it at any point between Ascension and Pentecost), namely the appointment of another apostle in place of Judas. We have to consider the need for such an appointment (the defection and death of Judas), the warrant for it (the fulfilment of Scripture) and the choice which was made (Matthias).
a. The death of Judas (1:18–19)
18 (Now this man acquired a field with the reward of his wickedness, and falling headlong [4] he burst open in the middle and all his bowels gushed out.
19 And it became known to all the inhabitants of Jerusalem, so that the field was called in their own language Akeldama, that is, Field of Blood.)
Verses 18 and 19 do not appear to be part of Peter’s speech, for they interrupt the sequence of his thought. Moreover, as an Aramaic speaker addressing Aramaic speakers, Peter would not have needed to translate the word Akeldama (19). But Luke, writing for Gentile readers, would need to explain its meaning. So these two verses are best understood as an editorial parenthesis, in which Luke acquaints his readers with the circumstances of Judas’ death. This is how RSV, NEB and NIV take it.
Luke is outspoken in calling Judas’ betrayal of Jesus an act of wickedness (adikia, 18), ‘infamy’ (JBP) or ‘villainy’ (NEB), or a ‘crime’ (JB). Yet some people express their sympathy for him because his role was predicted and therefore (it is thought) foreordained. But this is not so. Calvin himself, for all his emphasis on the sovereignty of God, wrote: ‘Judas may not be excused on the ground that what befell him was prophesied, since he fell away not through the compulsion of the prophecy but through the wickedness of his own heart.’56
In the Gospels only Matthew records what happened to Judas,57 and he and Luke appear to be drawing on independent traditions. But their accounts are not as divergent as some argue, and it is certainly not necessary to say with R. P. C. Hanson that ‘they cannot both be true’.58 Both say that Judas died a miserable death, that a field was bought with the money paid him (thirty silver coins), and that it was called ‘The Field of Blood’. The apparent discrepancies concern how he died, who bought the field and why it was called ‘Blood Field’.
First, the manner of Judas’ death. Matthew writes that he committed suicide: ‘he went away and hanged himself.’59 Luke writes that he fell headlong, his body burst open and all his intestines spilled out (18b). Attempts to harmonize these statements go back at least to Augustine. It is perfectly possible to suppose that after he had hanged himself, his dead body either fell headlong (the usual meaning of preœneœs), assuming that the rope or tree branch broke, or ‘swelled up’ (following a different derivation of preœneœs, which [Acts, Page 56] BAGD declares ‘linguistically possible’, cf. RSV margin, JBP), and in either case ruptured.
Secondly, there is the question who bought the field. Matthew says that Judas, filled with remorse, tried to return the money to the priests and (when they refused to accept it) threw it into the temple and left. He adds that later the priests picked up the money and with it bought the potter’s field. Luke, on the other hand, says that with the reward he got for his wickedness, Judas bought a field (18a). So did the priests purchase the field, or did Judas? It is reasonable to answer that both did, the priests entering into the transaction, but with money which belonged to Judas. For, as Edersheim wrote, ‘by a fiction of law the money was still considered to be Judas’, and to have been applied by him in the purchase of the well-known “potter’s field” ’.60
Thirdly, why did the field purchased come to be known as ‘The Field of Blood’? Matthew’s answer is that it had been bought with ‘blood money’;61 Luke gives no explicit reason, but implies that it was because Judas’ blood had been spilled there. Evidently different traditions developed (as so often happens) as to how the field got its name, so that different people called it ‘Blood Field’ for different reasons.
It is fair to conclude that these independent accounts of Judas’ death are not incompatible, and to agree with J. A. Alexander: ‘there is scarcely an American or English jury that would scruple to receive these two accounts as perfectly consistent.’62
b. The fulfilment of Scripture (1:15–17, 20)
15 In those days Peter stood up among the brothers (the company of persons was in all about 120) and said,
16 “Brothers, the Scripture had to be fulfilled, which the Holy Spirit spoke beforehand by the mouth of David concerning Judas, who became a guide to those who arrested Jesus.
17 For he was numbered among us and was allotted his share in this ministry.”
20 “For it is written in the Book of Psalms,
The warrant for replacing Judas was Old Testament Scripture. This was Peter’s conviction, which he expressed to the believers: Brothers, the Scripture had to be fulfilled which the Holy Spirit spoke long ago through the mouth of David concerning Judas (16). We need to recall that, according to Luke, the risen Lord had both opened the Scriptures to his disciples and opened their minds to understand the Scriptures.63 In consequence, since the resurrection they had begun to have a new grasp of how the Old Testament foretold the sufferings and glory, rejection and reign of the Messiah. And, stimulated by Jesus’ explanations, they will during the fifty days of waiting have searched the Scriptures for further light. We know that various lists of Old Testament ‘testimonies’ to the Messiah were later compiled and circulated. But the process will have begun immediately after the resurrection.
Peter goes on to quote from two Psalms (Pss. 69 and 109), the [Acts, Page 57] first explaining what had happened (Judas’ defection and death) and the second what they should do about it (replace him). Psalm 69 is applied to Jesus five times in the New Testament. In it an innocent sufferer describes how his enemies hate and insult him without cause (Ps. 69:4), and how he is consumed with zeal for God’s house (Ps. 69:9). These verses are both quoted in John’s Gospel, verse 4 by Jesus himself64 and verse 9 by his disciples,65 while Paul twice refers this psalm to Jesus.66 Towards its end (Ps. 69:24) the psalmist utters a prayer that God’s judgment will fall on these wicked and impenitent people. Peter individualizes this text and applies it to Judas on whom indeed God’s judgment had fallen: May his place be deserted; let there be no-one to dwell in it (20a). Psalm 109 is similar. It concerns ‘wicked and deceitful men’ who without justification hate, slander and attack the writer. Then one particular person is singled out, perhaps the ringleader, and God’s judgment on him is requested (Ps. 109:8): May another take his place of leadership (20b). This verse too, on what Dr Longenecker calls ‘the commonly accepted exegetical principle of analogous subject’,67 Peter applies to Judas.
These two scriptures seemed to Peter and the believers adequate general guidance on the need to replace Judas. Perhaps there was an additional factor, which Luke mentions in his Gospel,68 namely that Jesus drew a parallel between the twelve apostles and the twelve tribes of Israel. If the early church was to be accepted as enjoying direct continuity with, indeed as being the fulfilment of, Old Testament Israel, the number of its founders must not be depleted. A few years later it was not deemed necessary to replace James, for he had not defected, but had been faithful unto death (12:1–2).
c. The choice of Matthias (1:21–26)
21 So one of the men who have accompanied us during all the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us,
22 beginning from the baptism of John until the day when he was taken up from us—one of these men must become with us a witness to his resurrection.”
23 And they put forward two, Joseph called Barsabbas, who was also called Justus, and Matthias.
24 And they prayed and said, “You, Lord, who know the hearts of all, show which one of these two you have chosen
25 to take the place in this ministry and apostleship from which Judas turned aside to go to his own place.”
26 And they cast lots for them, and the lot fell on Matthias, and he was numbered with the eleven apostles.
Peter’s proposal that a twelfth apostle be chosen to replace Judas (21–22) throws light on his understanding of apostleship, to which reference was made in the previous chapter.
First, the apostolic ministry (25, this apostolic ministry, as NIV renders diakonia and apostoleœ) was to be ‘a witness to his resurrection’ (22b, RSV). His resurrection was early recognized as the divine vindication of both his person and his work, and Luke describes how with great power ‘the apostles continued to testify to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus’ (Acts 4:33; cf. 13:30–31).
Secondly, the apostolic qualification was therefore to have been a witness of the resurrection to which they were called to bear [Acts, Page 58] witness (e.g. 2:32; 3:15; 10:40–42). It was indispensable to have seen the risen Lord, which is why Paul was later added to the apostolic band.69 But Judas’ replacement as a member of the foundation Twelve, whose responsibility was to safeguard the true tradition about Jesus, needed a fuller qualification than this. He must, Peter explained, have been with us the whole time the Lord Jesus went in and out among us, beginning from John’s baptism to the time when Jesus was taken up from us (21–22; cf. 10:39; 13:31). This is why I cannot agree with Campbell Morgan who (following others) wrote: ‘The election of Matthias was wrong.… He was a good man, but the wrong man for this position.… I am not prepared to omit Paul from the twelve, believing that he was God’s man for the filling of the gap.’70 But Luke gives no hint at all that a mistake was made, in spite of the fact that Paul was obviously his hero. Besides, Paul did not have the fuller qualification which Peter laid down.
Thirdly, the apostolic appointment was by the Lord Jesus himself. It had been he who chose the original Twelve.71 So he must choose Judas’ replacement. True, the 120 believers were told to do the choosing (21). But what they did was to sift possible candidates and from them nominate two, namely Joseph (whose other name was Barsabbas in Hebrew and Justus in Latin) and Matthias, of neither of whom do we know anything, although Eusebius says that both were members of the Seventy. Then they prayed to Jesus as Lord, calling him (literally) everybody’s ‘heart-knower’, kardiagnoœsteœs, a word Luke later uses of God,72 and asked him to show them which of the two he had already chosen (24). Then they drew lots (26), a method of discerning God’s will which was sanctioned in the Old Testament,73 but which does not appear to have been used after the Spirit had come.74 Matthias was chosen; so he was added to the eleven apostles.
It is instructive to note the cluster of factors which contributed to the discovery of God’s will in this matter. First came the general leading of Scripture that a replacement should be made (16–21). Next, they used their common sense that if Judas’ substitute was to have the same apostolic ministry he must also have the same qualifications, including an eyewitness experience of Jesus and a personal appointment by him. This sound deductive reasoning led to the nomination of Joseph and Matthias. Thirdly, they prayed. For though Jesus had gone, he was still accessible to them by prayer [Acts, Page 59] and was acknowledged as having a knowledge of hearts which they lacked. Finally, they drew lots, by which they trusted Jesus to make his choice known. Leaving aside this fourth factor, because the Spirit has now been given us, the remaining three (Scripture, common sense and prayer) constitute a wholesome combination through which God may be trusted to guide us today.
The stage is now set for the Day of Pentecost. The apostles have received Christ’s commission and seen his ascension. The apostolic team is complete again, ready to be his chosen witnesses. Only one thing is missing: the Spirit has not yet come. Though the place left vacant by Judas has been filled by Matthias, the place left vacant by Jesus has not yet been filled by the Spirit. So we leave Luke’s first chapter of the Acts with the 120 waiting in Jerusalem, persevering in prayer with one heart and mind, poised ready to fulfil Christ’s command just as soon as he has fulfilled his promise.
15 In those days Peter stood up among the brothers (the company of persons was in all about 120) and said,
16 “Brothers, the Scripture had to be fulfilled, which the Holy Spirit spoke beforehand by the mouth of David concerning Judas, who became a guide to those who arrested Jesus.
17 For he was numbered among us and was allotted his share in this ministry.”
18 (Now this man acquired a field with the reward of his wickedness, and falling headlong [4] he burst open in the middle and all his bowels gushed out.
19 And it became known to all the inhabitants of Jerusalem, so that the field was called in their own language Akeldama, that is, Field of Blood.)
20 “For it is written in the Book of Psalms,
16 “Brothers, the Scripture had to be fulfilled, which the Holy Spirit spoke beforehand by the mouth of David concerning Judas, who became a guide to those who arrested Jesus.
17 For he was numbered among us and was allotted his share in this ministry.”
18 (Now this man acquired a field with the reward of his wickedness, and falling headlong [4] he burst open in the middle and all his bowels gushed out.
19 And it became known to all the inhabitants of Jerusalem, so that the field was called in their own language Akeldama, that is, Field of Blood.)
20 “For it is written in the Book of Psalms,
“‘May his camp become desolate,
and let there be no one to dwell in it’;
and let there be no one to dwell in it’;
and
“‘Let another take his office.’
21 So one of the men who have accompanied us during all the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us,
22 beginning from the baptism of John until the day when he was taken up from us—one of these men must become with us a witness to his resurrection.”
23 And they put forward two, Joseph called Barsabbas, who was also called Justus, and Matthias.
24 And they prayed and said, “You, Lord, who know the hearts of all, show which one of these two you have chosen
25 to take the place in this ministry and apostleship from which Judas turned aside to go to his own place.”
26 And they cast lots for them, and the lot fell on Matthias, and he was numbered with the eleven apostles.
22 beginning from the baptism of John until the day when he was taken up from us—one of these men must become with us a witness to his resurrection.”
23 And they put forward two, Joseph called Barsabbas, who was also called Justus, and Matthias.
24 And they prayed and said, “You, Lord, who know the hearts of all, show which one of these two you have chosen
25 to take the place in this ministry and apostleship from which Judas turned aside to go to his own place.”
26 And they cast lots for them, and the lot fell on Matthias, and he was numbered with the eleven apostles.
Having recorded the Lord’s commission to witness, his ascension, [Acts, Page 55] and the disciples’ persevering prayers, Luke draws our attention to only one further action before Pentecost (in those days is vague enough to date it at any point between Ascension and Pentecost), namely the appointment of another apostle in place of Judas. We have to consider the need for such an appointment (the defection and death of Judas), the warrant for it (the fulfilment of Scripture) and the choice which was made (Matthias).
a. The death of Judas (1:18–19)
18 (Now this man acquired a field with the reward of his wickedness, and falling headlong [4] he burst open in the middle and all his bowels gushed out.
19 And it became known to all the inhabitants of Jerusalem, so that the field was called in their own language Akeldama, that is, Field of Blood.)
Verses 18 and 19 do not appear to be part of Peter’s speech, for they interrupt the sequence of his thought. Moreover, as an Aramaic speaker addressing Aramaic speakers, Peter would not have needed to translate the word Akeldama (19). But Luke, writing for Gentile readers, would need to explain its meaning. So these two verses are best understood as an editorial parenthesis, in which Luke acquaints his readers with the circumstances of Judas’ death. This is how RSV, NEB and NIV take it.
Luke is outspoken in calling Judas’ betrayal of Jesus an act of wickedness (adikia, 18), ‘infamy’ (JBP) or ‘villainy’ (NEB), or a ‘crime’ (JB). Yet some people express their sympathy for him because his role was predicted and therefore (it is thought) foreordained. But this is not so. Calvin himself, for all his emphasis on the sovereignty of God, wrote: ‘Judas may not be excused on the ground that what befell him was prophesied, since he fell away not through the compulsion of the prophecy but through the wickedness of his own heart.’56
In the Gospels only Matthew records what happened to Judas,57 and he and Luke appear to be drawing on independent traditions. But their accounts are not as divergent as some argue, and it is certainly not necessary to say with R. P. C. Hanson that ‘they cannot both be true’.58 Both say that Judas died a miserable death, that a field was bought with the money paid him (thirty silver coins), and that it was called ‘The Field of Blood’. The apparent discrepancies concern how he died, who bought the field and why it was called ‘Blood Field’.
First, the manner of Judas’ death. Matthew writes that he committed suicide: ‘he went away and hanged himself.’59 Luke writes that he fell headlong, his body burst open and all his intestines spilled out (18b). Attempts to harmonize these statements go back at least to Augustine. It is perfectly possible to suppose that after he had hanged himself, his dead body either fell headlong (the usual meaning of preœneœs), assuming that the rope or tree branch broke, or ‘swelled up’ (following a different derivation of preœneœs, which [Acts, Page 56] BAGD declares ‘linguistically possible’, cf. RSV margin, JBP), and in either case ruptured.
Secondly, there is the question who bought the field. Matthew says that Judas, filled with remorse, tried to return the money to the priests and (when they refused to accept it) threw it into the temple and left. He adds that later the priests picked up the money and with it bought the potter’s field. Luke, on the other hand, says that with the reward he got for his wickedness, Judas bought a field (18a). So did the priests purchase the field, or did Judas? It is reasonable to answer that both did, the priests entering into the transaction, but with money which belonged to Judas. For, as Edersheim wrote, ‘by a fiction of law the money was still considered to be Judas’, and to have been applied by him in the purchase of the well-known “potter’s field” ’.60
Thirdly, why did the field purchased come to be known as ‘The Field of Blood’? Matthew’s answer is that it had been bought with ‘blood money’;61 Luke gives no explicit reason, but implies that it was because Judas’ blood had been spilled there. Evidently different traditions developed (as so often happens) as to how the field got its name, so that different people called it ‘Blood Field’ for different reasons.
It is fair to conclude that these independent accounts of Judas’ death are not incompatible, and to agree with J. A. Alexander: ‘there is scarcely an American or English jury that would scruple to receive these two accounts as perfectly consistent.’62
b. The fulfilment of Scripture (1:15–17, 20)
15 In those days Peter stood up among the brothers (the company of persons was in all about 120) and said,
16 “Brothers, the Scripture had to be fulfilled, which the Holy Spirit spoke beforehand by the mouth of David concerning Judas, who became a guide to those who arrested Jesus.
17 For he was numbered among us and was allotted his share in this ministry.”
20 “For it is written in the Book of Psalms,
“‘May his camp become desolate,
and let there be no one to dwell in it’;
and let there be no one to dwell in it’;
and
“‘Let another take his office.’
The warrant for replacing Judas was Old Testament Scripture. This was Peter’s conviction, which he expressed to the believers: Brothers, the Scripture had to be fulfilled which the Holy Spirit spoke long ago through the mouth of David concerning Judas (16). We need to recall that, according to Luke, the risen Lord had both opened the Scriptures to his disciples and opened their minds to understand the Scriptures.63 In consequence, since the resurrection they had begun to have a new grasp of how the Old Testament foretold the sufferings and glory, rejection and reign of the Messiah. And, stimulated by Jesus’ explanations, they will during the fifty days of waiting have searched the Scriptures for further light. We know that various lists of Old Testament ‘testimonies’ to the Messiah were later compiled and circulated. But the process will have begun immediately after the resurrection.
Peter goes on to quote from two Psalms (Pss. 69 and 109), the [Acts, Page 57] first explaining what had happened (Judas’ defection and death) and the second what they should do about it (replace him). Psalm 69 is applied to Jesus five times in the New Testament. In it an innocent sufferer describes how his enemies hate and insult him without cause (Ps. 69:4), and how he is consumed with zeal for God’s house (Ps. 69:9). These verses are both quoted in John’s Gospel, verse 4 by Jesus himself64 and verse 9 by his disciples,65 while Paul twice refers this psalm to Jesus.66 Towards its end (Ps. 69:24) the psalmist utters a prayer that God’s judgment will fall on these wicked and impenitent people. Peter individualizes this text and applies it to Judas on whom indeed God’s judgment had fallen: May his place be deserted; let there be no-one to dwell in it (20a). Psalm 109 is similar. It concerns ‘wicked and deceitful men’ who without justification hate, slander and attack the writer. Then one particular person is singled out, perhaps the ringleader, and God’s judgment on him is requested (Ps. 109:8): May another take his place of leadership (20b). This verse too, on what Dr Longenecker calls ‘the commonly accepted exegetical principle of analogous subject’,67 Peter applies to Judas.
These two scriptures seemed to Peter and the believers adequate general guidance on the need to replace Judas. Perhaps there was an additional factor, which Luke mentions in his Gospel,68 namely that Jesus drew a parallel between the twelve apostles and the twelve tribes of Israel. If the early church was to be accepted as enjoying direct continuity with, indeed as being the fulfilment of, Old Testament Israel, the number of its founders must not be depleted. A few years later it was not deemed necessary to replace James, for he had not defected, but had been faithful unto death (12:1–2).
c. The choice of Matthias (1:21–26)
21 So one of the men who have accompanied us during all the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us,
22 beginning from the baptism of John until the day when he was taken up from us—one of these men must become with us a witness to his resurrection.”
23 And they put forward two, Joseph called Barsabbas, who was also called Justus, and Matthias.
24 And they prayed and said, “You, Lord, who know the hearts of all, show which one of these two you have chosen
25 to take the place in this ministry and apostleship from which Judas turned aside to go to his own place.”
26 And they cast lots for them, and the lot fell on Matthias, and he was numbered with the eleven apostles.
Peter’s proposal that a twelfth apostle be chosen to replace Judas (21–22) throws light on his understanding of apostleship, to which reference was made in the previous chapter.
First, the apostolic ministry (25, this apostolic ministry, as NIV renders diakonia and apostoleœ) was to be ‘a witness to his resurrection’ (22b, RSV). His resurrection was early recognized as the divine vindication of both his person and his work, and Luke describes how with great power ‘the apostles continued to testify to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus’ (Acts 4:33; cf. 13:30–31).
Secondly, the apostolic qualification was therefore to have been a witness of the resurrection to which they were called to bear [Acts, Page 58] witness (e.g. 2:32; 3:15; 10:40–42). It was indispensable to have seen the risen Lord, which is why Paul was later added to the apostolic band.69 But Judas’ replacement as a member of the foundation Twelve, whose responsibility was to safeguard the true tradition about Jesus, needed a fuller qualification than this. He must, Peter explained, have been with us the whole time the Lord Jesus went in and out among us, beginning from John’s baptism to the time when Jesus was taken up from us (21–22; cf. 10:39; 13:31). This is why I cannot agree with Campbell Morgan who (following others) wrote: ‘The election of Matthias was wrong.… He was a good man, but the wrong man for this position.… I am not prepared to omit Paul from the twelve, believing that he was God’s man for the filling of the gap.’70 But Luke gives no hint at all that a mistake was made, in spite of the fact that Paul was obviously his hero. Besides, Paul did not have the fuller qualification which Peter laid down.
Thirdly, the apostolic appointment was by the Lord Jesus himself. It had been he who chose the original Twelve.71 So he must choose Judas’ replacement. True, the 120 believers were told to do the choosing (21). But what they did was to sift possible candidates and from them nominate two, namely Joseph (whose other name was Barsabbas in Hebrew and Justus in Latin) and Matthias, of neither of whom do we know anything, although Eusebius says that both were members of the Seventy. Then they prayed to Jesus as Lord, calling him (literally) everybody’s ‘heart-knower’, kardiagnoœsteœs, a word Luke later uses of God,72 and asked him to show them which of the two he had already chosen (24). Then they drew lots (26), a method of discerning God’s will which was sanctioned in the Old Testament,73 but which does not appear to have been used after the Spirit had come.74 Matthias was chosen; so he was added to the eleven apostles.
It is instructive to note the cluster of factors which contributed to the discovery of God’s will in this matter. First came the general leading of Scripture that a replacement should be made (16–21). Next, they used their common sense that if Judas’ substitute was to have the same apostolic ministry he must also have the same qualifications, including an eyewitness experience of Jesus and a personal appointment by him. This sound deductive reasoning led to the nomination of Joseph and Matthias. Thirdly, they prayed. For though Jesus had gone, he was still accessible to them by prayer [Acts, Page 59] and was acknowledged as having a knowledge of hearts which they lacked. Finally, they drew lots, by which they trusted Jesus to make his choice known. Leaving aside this fourth factor, because the Spirit has now been given us, the remaining three (Scripture, common sense and prayer) constitute a wholesome combination through which God may be trusted to guide us today.
The stage is now set for the Day of Pentecost. The apostles have received Christ’s commission and seen his ascension. The apostolic team is complete again, ready to be his chosen witnesses. Only one thing is missing: the Spirit has not yet come. Though the place left vacant by Judas has been filled by Matthias, the place left vacant by Jesus has not yet been filled by the Spirit. So we leave Luke’s first chapter of the Acts with the 120 waiting in Jerusalem, persevering in prayer with one heart and mind, poised ready to fulfil Christ’s command just as soon as he has fulfilled his promise.
They prayed for the Spirit to come (1:12–14)
3. They prayed for the Spirit to come (1:12–14)
12 Then they returned to Jerusalem from the mount called Olivet, which is near Jerusalem, a Sabbath day's journey away.
13 And when they had entered, they went up to the upper room, where they were staying, Peter and John and James and Andrew, Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew, James the son of Alphaeus and Simon the Zealot and Judas the son of James.
14 All these with one accord were devoting themselves to prayer, together with the women and Mary the mother of Jesus, and his brothers.
Their walk back to Jerusalem, being only the kilometre permitted on the sabbath, will not have taken them more than a quarter of an hour. Luke then tells us how they occupied the next ten days before Pentecost. In his Gospel he says ‘they stayed continually at the temple, praising God’,43 and in the Acts that in the room where they were lodging, ‘they all joined together constantly in prayer’ (14). It was a healthy combination: continuous praise in the temple, and continuous prayer in the home. Luke does not tell us whether the upstairs room was the ‘large upper room, all furnished’,44 in which Jesus had spent his last evening with the Twelve, or whether it was the house of Mary the mother of John Mark, in which later many members of the Jerusalem church gathered to pray (Acts 12:12), or some other room. What he does tell us is that their prayers had two characteristics which, Calvin comments, are ‘two essentials for true prayer, namely that they persevered, and were of one mind’.45 I will take them in the opposite order.
a. Their prayer was united
Who were these people who met to pray? Luke says that they were ‘a group numbering about a hundred and twenty’ (15). Professor Howard Marshall suggests that the reason why the number is mentioned is that ‘in Jewish law a minimum of 120 Jewish men was required to establish a community with its own council’; so already the disciples were numerous enough ‘to form a new community’.46 Others have detected symbolism in the number, since the twelve tribes and the twelve apostles make twelve an obvious symbol of the church, and 120 is 12 × 10, as the 144,000 of the Book of Revelation is 12 x 12 x 1000. Yet others suggest that the 120 must have been only a percentage of the total believing community, since on one occasion ‘more than 500’ had seen the risen Lord at the same time,47 although, to be sure, this may have been in Galilee. At all events, the 120 included the eleven surviving [Acts, Page 53] apostles. Luke lists them (13), as he has done in his Gospel.48 And the list is the same, with only minor variations. For example, the inner circle of four, who had been named in the Gospel as pairs of brothers, ‘Simon and Andrew, James and John’, are now Peter, John, James and Andrew, putting first those who were to become the leading apostles, and also separating the natural brothers as if to hint that a new brotherhood in Christ has replaced the old kinship (see verse 16, ‘Brothers …’). The next two pairs are also rearranged, although no reason is apparent. Instead of ‘Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Thomas’,49 Luke writes Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Mathew. The remaining apostles are the same, except that of course the traitor Judas is omitted.
In addition to the eleven apostles are mentioned the women (14), presumably meaning Mary Magdalene, Joanna (whose husband managed Herod’s household) and Susanna—the trio Luke has named in the Gospel50 as ‘helping to support them [sc. Jesus and the Twelve] out of their own means’, together perhaps with ‘Mary the mother of James’ and the others who found the tomb empty51 and to whom the risen Lord later revealed himself.52 Then, placed separately as occupying a position of particular honour, Luke adds Mary the mother of Jesus, whose unique role in the birth of Jesus he has described in the first two chapters of his Gospel, together with his brothers (14), who had not believed in him during his earlier ministry,53 but who now—perhaps because of the private resurrection appearance to one of them, James54—are numbered among the believers.
All these (the apostles, the women, the mother and brothers of Jesus, and the rest who made the number up to 120) joined together constantly in prayer. ‘Together’ translates homothymadon, a favourite word of Luke’s, which he uses ten times and which occurs only once elsewhere in the New Testament. It could mean simply that the disciples met in the same place, or were doing the same thing, namely praying. But it later describes both united prayer (4:24) and a united decision (15:25), so that the ‘togetherness’ implied seems to go beyond mere assembly and activity to agreement about what they were praying for. They prayed ‘with one mind or purpose or impulse’ (BAGD).
b. Their prayer was persevering
The verb translated joined … constantly (proskartereoœ) means to be ‘busy’ or ‘persistent’ in all activity. Luke uses it later both of the new converts who ‘devoted themselves to’ the apostles’ teaching [Acts, Page 54] (2:42) and of the apostles who determined to give priority to prayer and preaching (6:4). Here he uses it of perseverance in prayer, as Paul does several times.55
There can be little doubt that the grounds of this unity and perseverance in prayer were the command and promise of Jesus. He had promised to send them the Spirit soon (1:4, 5, 8). He had commanded them to wait for him to come and then to begin their witness. We learn, therefore, that God’s promises do not render prayer superfluous. On the contrary, it is only his promises which give us the warrant to pray and the confidence that he will hear and answer.
12 Then they returned to Jerusalem from the mount called Olivet, which is near Jerusalem, a Sabbath day's journey away.
13 And when they had entered, they went up to the upper room, where they were staying, Peter and John and James and Andrew, Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew, James the son of Alphaeus and Simon the Zealot and Judas the son of James.
14 All these with one accord were devoting themselves to prayer, together with the women and Mary the mother of Jesus, and his brothers.
Their walk back to Jerusalem, being only the kilometre permitted on the sabbath, will not have taken them more than a quarter of an hour. Luke then tells us how they occupied the next ten days before Pentecost. In his Gospel he says ‘they stayed continually at the temple, praising God’,43 and in the Acts that in the room where they were lodging, ‘they all joined together constantly in prayer’ (14). It was a healthy combination: continuous praise in the temple, and continuous prayer in the home. Luke does not tell us whether the upstairs room was the ‘large upper room, all furnished’,44 in which Jesus had spent his last evening with the Twelve, or whether it was the house of Mary the mother of John Mark, in which later many members of the Jerusalem church gathered to pray (Acts 12:12), or some other room. What he does tell us is that their prayers had two characteristics which, Calvin comments, are ‘two essentials for true prayer, namely that they persevered, and were of one mind’.45 I will take them in the opposite order.
a. Their prayer was united
Who were these people who met to pray? Luke says that they were ‘a group numbering about a hundred and twenty’ (15). Professor Howard Marshall suggests that the reason why the number is mentioned is that ‘in Jewish law a minimum of 120 Jewish men was required to establish a community with its own council’; so already the disciples were numerous enough ‘to form a new community’.46 Others have detected symbolism in the number, since the twelve tribes and the twelve apostles make twelve an obvious symbol of the church, and 120 is 12 × 10, as the 144,000 of the Book of Revelation is 12 x 12 x 1000. Yet others suggest that the 120 must have been only a percentage of the total believing community, since on one occasion ‘more than 500’ had seen the risen Lord at the same time,47 although, to be sure, this may have been in Galilee. At all events, the 120 included the eleven surviving [Acts, Page 53] apostles. Luke lists them (13), as he has done in his Gospel.48 And the list is the same, with only minor variations. For example, the inner circle of four, who had been named in the Gospel as pairs of brothers, ‘Simon and Andrew, James and John’, are now Peter, John, James and Andrew, putting first those who were to become the leading apostles, and also separating the natural brothers as if to hint that a new brotherhood in Christ has replaced the old kinship (see verse 16, ‘Brothers …’). The next two pairs are also rearranged, although no reason is apparent. Instead of ‘Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Thomas’,49 Luke writes Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Mathew. The remaining apostles are the same, except that of course the traitor Judas is omitted.
In addition to the eleven apostles are mentioned the women (14), presumably meaning Mary Magdalene, Joanna (whose husband managed Herod’s household) and Susanna—the trio Luke has named in the Gospel50 as ‘helping to support them [sc. Jesus and the Twelve] out of their own means’, together perhaps with ‘Mary the mother of James’ and the others who found the tomb empty51 and to whom the risen Lord later revealed himself.52 Then, placed separately as occupying a position of particular honour, Luke adds Mary the mother of Jesus, whose unique role in the birth of Jesus he has described in the first two chapters of his Gospel, together with his brothers (14), who had not believed in him during his earlier ministry,53 but who now—perhaps because of the private resurrection appearance to one of them, James54—are numbered among the believers.
All these (the apostles, the women, the mother and brothers of Jesus, and the rest who made the number up to 120) joined together constantly in prayer. ‘Together’ translates homothymadon, a favourite word of Luke’s, which he uses ten times and which occurs only once elsewhere in the New Testament. It could mean simply that the disciples met in the same place, or were doing the same thing, namely praying. But it later describes both united prayer (4:24) and a united decision (15:25), so that the ‘togetherness’ implied seems to go beyond mere assembly and activity to agreement about what they were praying for. They prayed ‘with one mind or purpose or impulse’ (BAGD).
b. Their prayer was persevering
The verb translated joined … constantly (proskartereoœ) means to be ‘busy’ or ‘persistent’ in all activity. Luke uses it later both of the new converts who ‘devoted themselves to’ the apostles’ teaching [Acts, Page 54] (2:42) and of the apostles who determined to give priority to prayer and preaching (6:4). Here he uses it of perseverance in prayer, as Paul does several times.55
There can be little doubt that the grounds of this unity and perseverance in prayer were the command and promise of Jesus. He had promised to send them the Spirit soon (1:4, 5, 8). He had commanded them to wait for him to come and then to begin their witness. We learn, therefore, that God’s promises do not render prayer superfluous. On the contrary, it is only his promises which give us the warrant to pray and the confidence that he will hear and answer.
They saw Jesus go into heaven (1:9–12)
2. They saw Jesus go into heaven (1:9–12)
9 And when he had said these things, as they were looking on, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight.
10 And while they were gazing into heaven as he went, behold, two men stood by them in white robes,
11 and said, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking into heaven? This Jesus, who was taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.”
12 Then they returned to Jerusalem from the mount called Olivet, which is near Jerusalem, a Sabbath day's journey away.
At least three questions form in our minds as we read this story of the ‘ascension’ of Jesus—literary, historical and theological. First, do not Luke’s two accounts of the ascension21 contradict each other? Secondly, did the ascension of Jesus literally happen? Thirdly, if it did, has it any permanent significance?
a. Did Luke contradict himself?
It is certainly appropriate, as we have already seen, that Luke should conclude his first volume and introduce his second with the same event, the ascension of Jesus, since it was both the end of his earthly ministry and the prelude to his continuing ministry from heaven through the Spirit. It is antecedently improbable, however, that the same author, telling the same story, should contradict himself. Yet this is what some modern scholars assert. Ernst Haenchen writes, for example: ‘Two Ascensions—one on Easter Day (Lk. 24:51), the other forty days after (Acts 1:9)—are one too many.’22 But in fact there are no substantial discrepancies, and a harmonization of the two accounts is possible, without forcing the evidence.
It is true that in his Gospel, Luke makes no mention of the forty days. But it is gratuitous to suggest that he must therefore have forgotten them, or that he thought that the resurrection and the ascension occurred on the same day. No, in the Gospel he is simply giving a condensed account of the resurrection appearances, without feeling the need to note their different times and circumstances. He is indubitably recording one ascension, not two.
It is also true that each account includes details which the other omits, the Acts version being fuller than that in the Gospel. For [Acts, Page 46] example, at the end of the Gospel the ascending Christ raised his hands to bless them, and they worshipped him.23 Luke omits these actions at the beginning of his second volume, but adds there the cloud which hid him from their sight, and the appearance and message of ‘the two men dressed in white’, presumed to be angels. Yet these features of the story supplement, and do not contradict, each other.
It is true, thirdly, that the Acts account seems to imply that Jesus ascended from the Mount of Olives (1:12), which is correctly said to be ‘a Sabbath day’s walk from the city’, namely (according to the Mishnah) 2,000 cubits or (NIV margin) about three-quarters of mile (about 1,100 metres)’, whereas the Gospel account says that Jesus ‘led them out to the vicinity of Bethany’,24 the village on the east slope of the mount, which is two or three miles further away from Jerusalem. Conzelmann declares that the latter ‘flatly contradicts the geographical reference in Acts 1:12’,25 and Haenchen assumes that Luke ‘did not possess any exact notion of the topography of Jerusalem.’.26 But Luke’s Gospel statement may well be intentionally vague. He does not say that Jesus ascended from Bethany, but only that he led the apostles in that direction, heoœs pros being quite properly rendered by NIV ‘to the vicinity of Bethany’.
Having looked at what are said to be the three main discrepancies (regarding date, details and place), we may now note five points which the two accounts affirm in common. (i) Both say that the ascension of Jesus followed his commission to the apostles to be his witnesses. (ii) Both say that it took place outside and east of Jerusalem, somewhere on the Mount of Olives. (iii) Both say that Jesus ‘was taken up into heaven’, the passive voice indicating that the ascension like the resurrection was an act of the Father, who first raised him from the dead and then exalted him to heaven. As Chrysostom put it, ‘the royal chariot (was) sent for him’.27 (iv) Both say that the apostles ‘returned to Jerusalem’ afterwards, the Gospel adding ‘with great joy’. (v) And both say that they then waited for the Spirit to come, in accordance with the Lord’s plain command and promise. Thus the evident agreements are greater than the apparent disagreements. The latter are sufficiently explained by supposing that Luke used his editorial freedom in selecting different details from the account or accounts he had heard, without wishing to repeat himself word for word.
b. Did the ascension really happen?
Many people nowadays, even within the church, deny the historicity [Acts, Page 47] of the ascension. Belief in a literal ascension would have been understandable in Luke’s day, they say, when people imagined heaven to be ‘up there’, so that Jesus had to be ‘taken up’ in order to get there. But that was a pre-scientific age; we have an altogether different cosmology. Must we not therefore ‘demythologize’ the ascension? Then we can retain the truth that Jesus ‘went to the Father’, while at the same time stripping it of its ‘primitive mythological clothing’ which depicts it as a kind of ‘lift-off’, followed by an ascent into the sky. Besides, Luke is the only Gospel-writer who tells the story of the ascension. The others omit it. In fact the New Testament authors in general hardly distinguish between the resurrection and the ascension; they seem to regard them as the same event, or perhaps two aspects of the same event. So Harnack could write that ‘the account of the Ascension is quite useless to the historian’.28 Even William Neil, who is usually quite conservative in his conclusions, tells his readers (without argument) that Luke, knowing that ‘theological truth can often be best conveyed by imaginative word-pictures’, is not to be interpreted literally. ‘It would be a grave misunderstanding of Luke’s mind and purpose to regard his account of the Ascension of Christ as other than symbolic and poetic.’29
A number of sound reasons can be given, however, why we should reject this attempt to discredit the ascension as a literal, historical event.
First, miracles do not need precedents to validate them. The classical argument of the eighteenth-century deists was that we can believe strange happenings outside our experience only if we can produce something analogous to them within our experience. This ‘principle of analogy’, if correct, would be enough in itself to disprove many of the biblical miracles, for we have no experience (for example) of somebody walking on water, multiplying loaves and fishes, rising from the dead or ascending into heaven. An ascension, in particular, would defy the law of gravity, which in our experience operates always and everywhere. The principle of analogy, however, has no relevance to the resurrection and ascension of Jesus, since both were sui generis. We are not claiming that people frequently (or even occasionally) rise from the dead and ascend into heaven, but that both events have happened once. The fact that we can produce no analogies before or since confirms their truth, rather than undermining it.
Secondly, the ascension is everywhere assumed in the New Testament. Although Luke is the only evangelist who describes it (Mark 16:19 is not an authentic part of Mark’s Gospel, but a later addition [Acts, Page 48] to it), it is incorrect to say that it is otherwise unknown. John records the risen Jesus as telling Mary Magdalene to stop clinging to him because he has not yet ascended to the Father.30 Peter in his Pentecost sermon speaks of Jesus having been ‘exalted to the right hand of God’s as something different from and subsequent to his resurrection (Acts 2:31ff.), and he confirms it in his first letter.31 Paul frequently writes of the exaltation of Jesus to the supreme place of honour and power, and distinguishes it from his resurrection.32 And in the Epistle to the Hebrews the rising and the reigning of Jesus are not confused.33
Thirdly, Luke tells the story of the ascension with simplicity and sobriety. All the extravagances associated with the Apocryphal Gospel are missing. There is no embroidery such as we find in legends. There is no evidence of poetry or symbolism. Even Haenchen admits this: ‘the story is unsentimental, almost uncannily austere.’34 It reads like history, and as if Luke intended us to accept it as history.
Fourthly, Luke emphasizes the presence of eyewitnesses, and repeatedly refers to what they saw with their own eyes: ‘he was taken up before their very eyes, and a could hid him from their sight. They were looking intently up into the sky as he was going …’. The two angels then said to them, ‘Why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus … will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven.’ Five times in this extremely brief account it is stressed that the ascension took place visibly. Luke has not piled up these phrases for nothing. He has much to say in his two-volume work about the importance for the verification of the gospel of the apostolic eyewitnesses. And here he plainly includes the ascension of Jesus within the range of historical truths to which the eyewitnesses could (and did) testify. Indeed, when Judas is replaced, Peter will make John’s baptism and Jesus’ ascension the beginning and end of the public ministry to which the apostles must bear witness (1:22).
Fifthly, no alternative explanation is available of the cessation of the resurrection appearances and of the final disappearance of Jesus from the earth. What happened to him, them, and why did his appearances stop? What was the origin of the tradition that they [Acts, Page 49] lasted for precisely forty days? In default of any other answer to these questions, we prefer the explanation for which there is evidence, namely that the forty-day period began with his resurrection and terminated with his ascension.
Sixthly, the visible, historical ascension had a readily intelligible purpose. Jesus had no need to take a journey in space, and it is silly of some critics to ridicule his ascension by representing him as the first cosmonaut. No, in the transition from his earthly to his heavenly state, Jesus could perfectly well have vanished, as on other occasions, and ‘gone to the Father’ secretly and invisibly. The reason for a public and visible ascension is surely that he wanted them to know that he had gone for good. During the forty days he had kept appearing, disappearing and reappearing. But now this interim period was over. This time his departure was final. So they were not to wait around for his next resurrection appearance. Instead, they were to wait for somebody else, the Holy Spirit (1:4). For he would come only after Jesus had gone, and then they could get on with their mission in the power he would give them.
At all events, the manner of his going (a visible ascension) had its desired effect. The apostles returned to Jerusalem and waited for the Spirit to come.
c. What is the permanent value of the ascension story?
We have seen what the visible ascension did for the apostles; what can it do for us? If we were to give a thorough answer to this question, we would need to bring different strands of teaching together from all the New Testament authors, including the completed sacrifice and continuing intercession of our Great High Priest described in Hebrews, the glorification of the Son of man taught by John, the cosmic lordship emphasized by Paul and the final triumph when his enemies will become his footstool, foretold by Psalm 110:1, and endorsed by those who quote it. But it is not with these truths that Luke is concerned. In order to understand his primary interest as he tells the ascension story, we shall need to pay attention to those two men dressed in white (10) who stood beside them (the apostles) and spoke to them. Luke calls them ‘men’ because that is how they appeared, but their shining dress and authoritative tone indicate that they were angels. In his Gospel, Luke has recorded the ministry of angels at several crucial moments in his story. They announced and attended the birth of Jesus.35 According to some manuscripts an angel appeared in the garden of Gethsemane to strengthen him.36 And ‘two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning’, later identified as angels, proclaimed his [Acts, Page 50] resurrection to the women.37 So it was entirely appropriate that angels should now appear to interpret his ascension. They asked the apostles a searching question: Men of Galilee, why do you stand here looking into the sky? (11a). The expression ‘into the sky’ or ‘into heaven’ (AV, RSV) occurs four times in verses 10 and 11; its repetition, especially in the angels’ implied reproof, emphasizes that the apostles were not to be sky-scanners. Two reasons are given.
First, Jesus will come again. This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven (11b). The implication seems to be that they will not bring him back by gazing up into the sky. He has gone, and they must let him go; he will return in his own good time, and in the same way. To this angelic assurance of the Parousia we must attach full weight. But we must also be cautious in our interpretation of houtos (this same Jesus) and houtoœs (in the same way). We should not press these words into meaning that the Parousia will be like a film of the ascension played backwards, or that he will return to exactly the same spot on the Mount of Olives and will be wearing the same clothes. It is only by letting Scripture interpret Scripture that we shall discern the similarities and dissimilarities between the ascension and the Parousia. ‘This same Jesus’ certainly indicates that his coming will be personal, the Eternal Son still possessing his glorified human nature and body. And ‘in the same way’ indicates that his coming will also be visible and glorious. They had seen him go; they would see him come. Luke recorded Jesus as saying so himself: ‘they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory.’38 The same cloud which had hidden him from their sight (1:9), which had previously enveloped him and the three intimate apostles on the Mount of Transfiguration,39 and which throughout the Old Testament was the symbol of Yahweh’s glorious presence, would be the chariot of his coming as it had been of his going.
Yet there will also be important differences between his going and his coming. Although his coming will be personal, it will not be private like his ascension. Only the eleven apostles saw him go, but when he comes ‘every eye will see him’.40 Instead of returning alone (as when he went), millions of holy ones—both human and angelic—will form his retinue.41 And in place of a localized coming (‘There he is!’ or ‘Here he is!’), it will be ‘like the lightning, which flashes and lights up the sky from one end to the other.’42
Secondly, the angels implied, until Christ comes again, the apostles must get on with their witness, for that was their mandate. [Acts, Page 51] There was something fundamentally anomalous about their gazing up into the sky when they had been commissioned to go to the ends of the earth. It was the earth not the sky which was to be their preoccupation. Their calling was to be witnesses not stargazers. The vision they were to cultivate was not upwards in nostalgia to the heaven which had received Jesus, but outwards in compassion to a lost world which needed him. It is the same for us. Curiosity about heaven and its occupants, speculation about prophecy and its fulfilment, an obsession with ‘times and seasons’—these are aberrations which distract us from our God-given mission. Christ will come personally, visibly, gloriously. Of that we have been assured. Other details can wait. Meanwhile, we have work to do in the power of the Spirit.
The remedy for unprofitable spiritual stargazing lies in a Christian theology of history, an understanding of the order of events in the divine programme. First, Jesus returned to heaven (Ascension). Secondly, the Holy Spirit came (Pentecost). Thirdly, the church goes out to witness (Mission). Fourthly, Jesus will come back (Parousia). Whenever we forget one of these events, or put them in the wrong sequence, confusion reigns. We need especially to remember that between the ascension and the Parousia, the disappearance and the reappearance of Jesus, there stretches a period of unknown length which is to be filled with the church’s world-wide, Spirit-empowered witness to him. We need to hear the implied message of the angels: ‘You have seen him go. You will see him come. But between that going and coming there must be another. The Spirit must come, and you must go—into the world for Christ.’
Looking back, I think we may say that the apostles committed two opposite errors, which both had to be corrected. First, they were hoping for political power (the restoration of the kingdom to Israel). Secondly, they were gazing up into the sky (preoccupied with the heavenly Jesus). Both were false fantasies. The first is the error of the politicist, who dreams of establishing Utopia on earth. The second is the error of the pietist, who dreams only of heavenly bliss. The first vision is too earthy, and the second too heavenly. Is it fanciful to see a parallel here between Luke’s Gospel and the Acts? Just as at the beginning of the Gospel Jesus in the Judean desert turned away from false ends and means, so at the beginning of the Acts the apostles before Pentecost had to turn away from both a false activism and a false pietism. And in their place, as the remedy for them, there was (and is) witness to Jesus in the power of the Spirit, with all that this implies of earthly responsibility and heavenly enabling.
9 And when he had said these things, as they were looking on, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight.
10 And while they were gazing into heaven as he went, behold, two men stood by them in white robes,
11 and said, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking into heaven? This Jesus, who was taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.”
12 Then they returned to Jerusalem from the mount called Olivet, which is near Jerusalem, a Sabbath day's journey away.
At least three questions form in our minds as we read this story of the ‘ascension’ of Jesus—literary, historical and theological. First, do not Luke’s two accounts of the ascension21 contradict each other? Secondly, did the ascension of Jesus literally happen? Thirdly, if it did, has it any permanent significance?
a. Did Luke contradict himself?
It is certainly appropriate, as we have already seen, that Luke should conclude his first volume and introduce his second with the same event, the ascension of Jesus, since it was both the end of his earthly ministry and the prelude to his continuing ministry from heaven through the Spirit. It is antecedently improbable, however, that the same author, telling the same story, should contradict himself. Yet this is what some modern scholars assert. Ernst Haenchen writes, for example: ‘Two Ascensions—one on Easter Day (Lk. 24:51), the other forty days after (Acts 1:9)—are one too many.’22 But in fact there are no substantial discrepancies, and a harmonization of the two accounts is possible, without forcing the evidence.
It is true that in his Gospel, Luke makes no mention of the forty days. But it is gratuitous to suggest that he must therefore have forgotten them, or that he thought that the resurrection and the ascension occurred on the same day. No, in the Gospel he is simply giving a condensed account of the resurrection appearances, without feeling the need to note their different times and circumstances. He is indubitably recording one ascension, not two.
It is also true that each account includes details which the other omits, the Acts version being fuller than that in the Gospel. For [Acts, Page 46] example, at the end of the Gospel the ascending Christ raised his hands to bless them, and they worshipped him.23 Luke omits these actions at the beginning of his second volume, but adds there the cloud which hid him from their sight, and the appearance and message of ‘the two men dressed in white’, presumed to be angels. Yet these features of the story supplement, and do not contradict, each other.
It is true, thirdly, that the Acts account seems to imply that Jesus ascended from the Mount of Olives (1:12), which is correctly said to be ‘a Sabbath day’s walk from the city’, namely (according to the Mishnah) 2,000 cubits or (NIV margin) about three-quarters of mile (about 1,100 metres)’, whereas the Gospel account says that Jesus ‘led them out to the vicinity of Bethany’,24 the village on the east slope of the mount, which is two or three miles further away from Jerusalem. Conzelmann declares that the latter ‘flatly contradicts the geographical reference in Acts 1:12’,25 and Haenchen assumes that Luke ‘did not possess any exact notion of the topography of Jerusalem.’.26 But Luke’s Gospel statement may well be intentionally vague. He does not say that Jesus ascended from Bethany, but only that he led the apostles in that direction, heoœs pros being quite properly rendered by NIV ‘to the vicinity of Bethany’.
Having looked at what are said to be the three main discrepancies (regarding date, details and place), we may now note five points which the two accounts affirm in common. (i) Both say that the ascension of Jesus followed his commission to the apostles to be his witnesses. (ii) Both say that it took place outside and east of Jerusalem, somewhere on the Mount of Olives. (iii) Both say that Jesus ‘was taken up into heaven’, the passive voice indicating that the ascension like the resurrection was an act of the Father, who first raised him from the dead and then exalted him to heaven. As Chrysostom put it, ‘the royal chariot (was) sent for him’.27 (iv) Both say that the apostles ‘returned to Jerusalem’ afterwards, the Gospel adding ‘with great joy’. (v) And both say that they then waited for the Spirit to come, in accordance with the Lord’s plain command and promise. Thus the evident agreements are greater than the apparent disagreements. The latter are sufficiently explained by supposing that Luke used his editorial freedom in selecting different details from the account or accounts he had heard, without wishing to repeat himself word for word.
b. Did the ascension really happen?
Many people nowadays, even within the church, deny the historicity [Acts, Page 47] of the ascension. Belief in a literal ascension would have been understandable in Luke’s day, they say, when people imagined heaven to be ‘up there’, so that Jesus had to be ‘taken up’ in order to get there. But that was a pre-scientific age; we have an altogether different cosmology. Must we not therefore ‘demythologize’ the ascension? Then we can retain the truth that Jesus ‘went to the Father’, while at the same time stripping it of its ‘primitive mythological clothing’ which depicts it as a kind of ‘lift-off’, followed by an ascent into the sky. Besides, Luke is the only Gospel-writer who tells the story of the ascension. The others omit it. In fact the New Testament authors in general hardly distinguish between the resurrection and the ascension; they seem to regard them as the same event, or perhaps two aspects of the same event. So Harnack could write that ‘the account of the Ascension is quite useless to the historian’.28 Even William Neil, who is usually quite conservative in his conclusions, tells his readers (without argument) that Luke, knowing that ‘theological truth can often be best conveyed by imaginative word-pictures’, is not to be interpreted literally. ‘It would be a grave misunderstanding of Luke’s mind and purpose to regard his account of the Ascension of Christ as other than symbolic and poetic.’29
A number of sound reasons can be given, however, why we should reject this attempt to discredit the ascension as a literal, historical event.
First, miracles do not need precedents to validate them. The classical argument of the eighteenth-century deists was that we can believe strange happenings outside our experience only if we can produce something analogous to them within our experience. This ‘principle of analogy’, if correct, would be enough in itself to disprove many of the biblical miracles, for we have no experience (for example) of somebody walking on water, multiplying loaves and fishes, rising from the dead or ascending into heaven. An ascension, in particular, would defy the law of gravity, which in our experience operates always and everywhere. The principle of analogy, however, has no relevance to the resurrection and ascension of Jesus, since both were sui generis. We are not claiming that people frequently (or even occasionally) rise from the dead and ascend into heaven, but that both events have happened once. The fact that we can produce no analogies before or since confirms their truth, rather than undermining it.
Secondly, the ascension is everywhere assumed in the New Testament. Although Luke is the only evangelist who describes it (Mark 16:19 is not an authentic part of Mark’s Gospel, but a later addition [Acts, Page 48] to it), it is incorrect to say that it is otherwise unknown. John records the risen Jesus as telling Mary Magdalene to stop clinging to him because he has not yet ascended to the Father.30 Peter in his Pentecost sermon speaks of Jesus having been ‘exalted to the right hand of God’s as something different from and subsequent to his resurrection (Acts 2:31ff.), and he confirms it in his first letter.31 Paul frequently writes of the exaltation of Jesus to the supreme place of honour and power, and distinguishes it from his resurrection.32 And in the Epistle to the Hebrews the rising and the reigning of Jesus are not confused.33
Thirdly, Luke tells the story of the ascension with simplicity and sobriety. All the extravagances associated with the Apocryphal Gospel are missing. There is no embroidery such as we find in legends. There is no evidence of poetry or symbolism. Even Haenchen admits this: ‘the story is unsentimental, almost uncannily austere.’34 It reads like history, and as if Luke intended us to accept it as history.
Fourthly, Luke emphasizes the presence of eyewitnesses, and repeatedly refers to what they saw with their own eyes: ‘he was taken up before their very eyes, and a could hid him from their sight. They were looking intently up into the sky as he was going …’. The two angels then said to them, ‘Why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus … will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven.’ Five times in this extremely brief account it is stressed that the ascension took place visibly. Luke has not piled up these phrases for nothing. He has much to say in his two-volume work about the importance for the verification of the gospel of the apostolic eyewitnesses. And here he plainly includes the ascension of Jesus within the range of historical truths to which the eyewitnesses could (and did) testify. Indeed, when Judas is replaced, Peter will make John’s baptism and Jesus’ ascension the beginning and end of the public ministry to which the apostles must bear witness (1:22).
Fifthly, no alternative explanation is available of the cessation of the resurrection appearances and of the final disappearance of Jesus from the earth. What happened to him, them, and why did his appearances stop? What was the origin of the tradition that they [Acts, Page 49] lasted for precisely forty days? In default of any other answer to these questions, we prefer the explanation for which there is evidence, namely that the forty-day period began with his resurrection and terminated with his ascension.
Sixthly, the visible, historical ascension had a readily intelligible purpose. Jesus had no need to take a journey in space, and it is silly of some critics to ridicule his ascension by representing him as the first cosmonaut. No, in the transition from his earthly to his heavenly state, Jesus could perfectly well have vanished, as on other occasions, and ‘gone to the Father’ secretly and invisibly. The reason for a public and visible ascension is surely that he wanted them to know that he had gone for good. During the forty days he had kept appearing, disappearing and reappearing. But now this interim period was over. This time his departure was final. So they were not to wait around for his next resurrection appearance. Instead, they were to wait for somebody else, the Holy Spirit (1:4). For he would come only after Jesus had gone, and then they could get on with their mission in the power he would give them.
At all events, the manner of his going (a visible ascension) had its desired effect. The apostles returned to Jerusalem and waited for the Spirit to come.
c. What is the permanent value of the ascension story?
We have seen what the visible ascension did for the apostles; what can it do for us? If we were to give a thorough answer to this question, we would need to bring different strands of teaching together from all the New Testament authors, including the completed sacrifice and continuing intercession of our Great High Priest described in Hebrews, the glorification of the Son of man taught by John, the cosmic lordship emphasized by Paul and the final triumph when his enemies will become his footstool, foretold by Psalm 110:1, and endorsed by those who quote it. But it is not with these truths that Luke is concerned. In order to understand his primary interest as he tells the ascension story, we shall need to pay attention to those two men dressed in white (10) who stood beside them (the apostles) and spoke to them. Luke calls them ‘men’ because that is how they appeared, but their shining dress and authoritative tone indicate that they were angels. In his Gospel, Luke has recorded the ministry of angels at several crucial moments in his story. They announced and attended the birth of Jesus.35 According to some manuscripts an angel appeared in the garden of Gethsemane to strengthen him.36 And ‘two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning’, later identified as angels, proclaimed his [Acts, Page 50] resurrection to the women.37 So it was entirely appropriate that angels should now appear to interpret his ascension. They asked the apostles a searching question: Men of Galilee, why do you stand here looking into the sky? (11a). The expression ‘into the sky’ or ‘into heaven’ (AV, RSV) occurs four times in verses 10 and 11; its repetition, especially in the angels’ implied reproof, emphasizes that the apostles were not to be sky-scanners. Two reasons are given.
First, Jesus will come again. This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven (11b). The implication seems to be that they will not bring him back by gazing up into the sky. He has gone, and they must let him go; he will return in his own good time, and in the same way. To this angelic assurance of the Parousia we must attach full weight. But we must also be cautious in our interpretation of houtos (this same Jesus) and houtoœs (in the same way). We should not press these words into meaning that the Parousia will be like a film of the ascension played backwards, or that he will return to exactly the same spot on the Mount of Olives and will be wearing the same clothes. It is only by letting Scripture interpret Scripture that we shall discern the similarities and dissimilarities between the ascension and the Parousia. ‘This same Jesus’ certainly indicates that his coming will be personal, the Eternal Son still possessing his glorified human nature and body. And ‘in the same way’ indicates that his coming will also be visible and glorious. They had seen him go; they would see him come. Luke recorded Jesus as saying so himself: ‘they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory.’38 The same cloud which had hidden him from their sight (1:9), which had previously enveloped him and the three intimate apostles on the Mount of Transfiguration,39 and which throughout the Old Testament was the symbol of Yahweh’s glorious presence, would be the chariot of his coming as it had been of his going.
Yet there will also be important differences between his going and his coming. Although his coming will be personal, it will not be private like his ascension. Only the eleven apostles saw him go, but when he comes ‘every eye will see him’.40 Instead of returning alone (as when he went), millions of holy ones—both human and angelic—will form his retinue.41 And in place of a localized coming (‘There he is!’ or ‘Here he is!’), it will be ‘like the lightning, which flashes and lights up the sky from one end to the other.’42
Secondly, the angels implied, until Christ comes again, the apostles must get on with their witness, for that was their mandate. [Acts, Page 51] There was something fundamentally anomalous about their gazing up into the sky when they had been commissioned to go to the ends of the earth. It was the earth not the sky which was to be their preoccupation. Their calling was to be witnesses not stargazers. The vision they were to cultivate was not upwards in nostalgia to the heaven which had received Jesus, but outwards in compassion to a lost world which needed him. It is the same for us. Curiosity about heaven and its occupants, speculation about prophecy and its fulfilment, an obsession with ‘times and seasons’—these are aberrations which distract us from our God-given mission. Christ will come personally, visibly, gloriously. Of that we have been assured. Other details can wait. Meanwhile, we have work to do in the power of the Spirit.
The remedy for unprofitable spiritual stargazing lies in a Christian theology of history, an understanding of the order of events in the divine programme. First, Jesus returned to heaven (Ascension). Secondly, the Holy Spirit came (Pentecost). Thirdly, the church goes out to witness (Mission). Fourthly, Jesus will come back (Parousia). Whenever we forget one of these events, or put them in the wrong sequence, confusion reigns. We need especially to remember that between the ascension and the Parousia, the disappearance and the reappearance of Jesus, there stretches a period of unknown length which is to be filled with the church’s world-wide, Spirit-empowered witness to him. We need to hear the implied message of the angels: ‘You have seen him go. You will see him come. But between that going and coming there must be another. The Spirit must come, and you must go—into the world for Christ.’
Looking back, I think we may say that the apostles committed two opposite errors, which both had to be corrected. First, they were hoping for political power (the restoration of the kingdom to Israel). Secondly, they were gazing up into the sky (preoccupied with the heavenly Jesus). Both were false fantasies. The first is the error of the politicist, who dreams of establishing Utopia on earth. The second is the error of the pietist, who dreams only of heavenly bliss. The first vision is too earthy, and the second too heavenly. Is it fanciful to see a parallel here between Luke’s Gospel and the Acts? Just as at the beginning of the Gospel Jesus in the Judean desert turned away from false ends and means, so at the beginning of the Acts the apostles before Pentecost had to turn away from both a false activism and a false pietism. And in their place, as the remedy for them, there was (and is) witness to Jesus in the power of the Spirit, with all that this implies of earthly responsibility and heavenly enabling.
Waiting for Pentecost
A. In Jerusalem
Acts 1:6–6:7
1. Waiting for Pentecost
1:6–26
The major event of the early chapters of the Acts took place on the Day of Pentecost, when the now-exalted Lord Jesus performed the last work of his saving career (until his coming again) and ‘poured out’ the Holy Spirit on his waiting people. His life, death, resurrection and ascension all culminated in this great gift, which the prophets had foretold and which would be recognized as the chief evidence that God’s kingdom had been inaugurated. For this conclusion of Christ’s work on earth was also a fresh beginning. Just as the Spirit came upon Jesus to equip him for his public ministry,1 so now the Spirit was to come upon his people to equip them for theirs. The Holy Spirit would not only apply to them the salvation which Jesus had achieved by his death and resurrection but would impel them to proclaim throughout the world the good news of this salvation. Salvation is given to be shared.
Before the Day of Pentecost, however, there was to be a time of waiting, for forty days between the resurrection and the ascension of Jesus (1:3), and for ten more between Ascension and Pentecost. Jesus’ instructions were quite clear, and Luke repeats them for emphasis, first at the end of his Gospel and then at the beginning of Acts. ‘Stay in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high.’2 ‘Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift my Father promised, which you have heard me speak about’ (1:4). During the fifty-day waiting period, however, they were not inactive. On the contrary, Luke singles out for comment four important events. First, they received their commission (1:6–8). Secondly, they saw Christ go into heaven (1:9–12). Thirdly, they persevered together in prayer, presumably for the Spirit to come (1:13–14). Fourthly, they replaced Judas with Matthias as the twelfth apostle (1:21–26). Not that we are to think of these as human activities only. For it is Christ who commissioned them, ascended into [Acts, Page 40] heaven, promised them the Spirit they prayed for, and chose the new apostle. Dr Richard Longenecker goes further and sees these four factors as comprising what he calls ‘the constitutive elements of the Christian mission’, namely the mandate to witness, the ascended Lord who directs the mission from heaven, the centrality of the apostles in this task, and the coming of the Spirit to empower them.3 Only when these four elements were in place could the mission begin.
1. They received their commission (1:6–8)
6 So when they had come together, they asked him, “Lord, will you at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?”
7 He said to them, “It is not for you to know times or seasons that the Father has fixed by his own authority.
8 But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.”
During the forty days in which the risen Lord ‘showed himself’ to the apostles, and ‘gave many convincing proofs that he was alive’ (3), Luke indicates what he taught them. First, he spoke to them ‘about the kingdom of God’ (3), which had been the burden of his message during his public ministry and indeed (judging from the present participle legoœn, ‘speaking’) continued to be after his resurrection. Secondly, he told them to wait for the gift or baptism of the Spirit, which had been promised by him, the Father and the Baptist, and which they would now receive ‘in a few days’ (4–5).
It appears, then, that Jesus’ two main topics of conversation between his resurrection and his ascension were the kingdom of God and the Spirit of God. It seems probable that he also related them to each other, for certainly the prophets had often associated them. When God establishes the kingdom of the Messiah, they said, he will pour out his Spirit; this generous effusion and universal enjoyment of the Spirit will be one of the major signs and blessings of his rule; and indeed the Spirit of God will make the rule of God a living and present reality to his people.4
So then the question which the apostles put to Jesus when they met together (Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?, 6) was not altogether the non sequitur it sounds. For if the Spirit was about to come, as he had said, did this not imply that the kingdom was about to come too? The mistake they [Acts, Page 41] made was to misunderstand both the nature of the kingdom and the relation between the kingdom and the Spirit. Their question must have filled Jesus with dismay. Were they still so lacking in perception? As Calvin commented, ‘there are as many errors in the question as words’.5 The verb, the noun and the adverb of their sentence all betray doctrinal confusion about the kingdom. For the verb restore shows that they were expecting a political and territorial kingdom; the noun Israel that they were expecting a national kingdom; and the adverbial clause at this time that they were expecting its immediate establishment. In his reply (7–8) Jesus corrected their mistaken notions of the kingdom’s nature, extent and arrival.6
a. The kingdom of God is spiritual in its character
8 But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.”
In the English language, of course, a ‘kingdom’ is usually a territorial sphere which can be located on a map, like the Hashemite kingdom of Jordan, the Hindu kingdom of Nepal, the Buddhist kingdom of Thailand, or the United kingdom. But the kingdom of God is not a territorial concept. It does not—and cannot—figure on any map. Yet this is what the apostles were still envisaging by confusing the kingdom of God with the kingdom of Israel. They were like the members of Israel’s righteous remnant whom Luke mentions in his Gospel as ‘waiting for the kingdom of God’ or ‘the consolation of Israel’,7 and like the Emmaus couple who ‘had hoped that he [Jesus] was the one who was going to redeem Israel’,8 but had become disillusioned because of the cross. The apostles’ hope, however, had evidently been rekindled by the resurrection. They were still dreaming of political dominion, of the [Acts, Page 42] re-establishment of the monarchy, of Israel’s liberation from the colonial yoke of Rome.
In his reply Jesus reverted to the topic of the Holy Spirit. He spoke of the Spirit coming upon them and giving them power to be his witnesses (8). In Charles Williams’ notable words, he departed ‘scattering promises of power’.9 It is important to remember that his promise that they would receive power was part of his reply to their question about the kingdom. For the exercise of power is inherent in the concept of a kingdom. But power in God’s kingdom is different from power in human kingdoms. The reference to the Holy Spirit defines its nature. The kingdom of God is his rule set up in the lives of his people by the Holy Spirit. It is spread by witness, not by soldiers, through a gospel of peace, not a declaration of war, and by the work of the Spirit, not by force of arms, political intrigue or revolutionary violence. At the same time, in rejecting the politicizing of the kingdom, we must beware of the opposite extreme of super-spiritualizing it, as if God’s rule operates only in heaven and not on earth. The fact is that, although it must not be identified with any political ideology or programme, it has radical political and social implications. Kingdom values come into collision with secular values. And the citizens of God’s kingdom steadfastly deny to Caesar the supreme loyalty for which he hungers, but which they insist on giving to Jesus alone.
b. The kingdom of God is international in its membership
The apostles still cherished narrow, nationalistic aspirations. They asked Jesus if he was about to restore to Israel her national independence, which the Maccabees had regained in the second century BV for a brief intoxicating period, only to lose it again.
In his reply Jesus broadened their horizons. He promised that the Holy Spirit would empower them to be his witnesses. They would begin indeed in Jerusalem, the national capital in which he had been condemned and crucified, and which they were not to leave before the Spirit came. They would continue in the immediate environs of Judea. But then the Christian mission would radiate out from that centre, in accordance with the ancient prophecy that ‘the law will go out from Zion, the word of the Lord from Jerusalem’,10 first to despised Samaria, and then far beyond Palestine to the Gentile nations, indeed to the ends of the earth. The thesis of Johannes Blauw in his book The Missionary Nature of the Church is that the Old Testament perspective was one of concern for the nations (God made them, and they will come and bow [Acts, Page 43] down to him), but not of mission to the nations (going out to win them). Even the Old Testament vision of the latter days is of a ‘pilgrimage of the nations’ to Mount Zion: ‘all nations will stream to it.’11 Only in the New Testament, Blauw adds, is a ‘centripetal missionary consciousness’ replaced by a ‘centrifugal missionary activity’, and ‘the great turning-point is the Resurrection, after which Jesus receives universal authority and gives his people a universal commission to go and disciple the nations’.12
The risen Lord’s mandate to mission begins to be fulfilled in the Acts. Indeed, as many commentators have pointed out, Acts 1:8 is a kind of ‘Table of Contents’ for the book. Chapters 1–7 describe events in Jerusalem, chapter 8 mentions the scattering of the disciples ‘throughout Judea and Samaria’ (8:1), and goes on to record the evangelization of a Samaritan city by Philip (8:5–24) and of ‘many Samaritan villages’ by the apostles Peter and John (8:25), while the conversion of Saul in chapter 9 leads on in the rest of the book to his missionary expeditions, and finally to his journey to Rome. For Christ’s kingdom, while not incompatible with patriotism, tolerates no narrow nationalisms. He rules over an international community in which race, nation, rank and sex are no barriers to fellowship. And when his kingdom is consummated at the end, the countless redeemed company will be seen to be drawn ‘from every nation, tribe, people and language’.13
c. The kingdom of God is gradual in its expansion
The apostles’ question included a specific reference to time: ‘Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?’ (1:6). Or (NEB) ‘is this the time when you are to establish once again the sovereignty of Israel?’ This had been the expectation of many during Jesus’ public ministry, as Luke makes clear in his Gospel. He records a parable which (he explains) Jesus told ‘because he was near Jerusalem and the people thought that the kingdom of God was going to appear at once’.14 So the apostles asked if Jesus would do now after his resurrection what they had hoped he would do in his lifetime; and would he do it immediately?
The Lord’s reply was twofold. First, it is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority (7). ‘Times’ (chronoi) or ‘dates’ (kairoi) together make up God’s plan, ‘the times or critical moments of its history and the seasons or epochs of its orderly development’.15 The apostles’ question [Acts, Page 44] betrayed either curiosity or impatience or both. For the Father himself had fixed the times by his own authority, and the Son had confessed that he did not know the day and hour of his return (parousia).16 So they must curb their inquisitiveness and be willing to be left in ignorance. It is not only in relation to the fulfilment of prophecy, but to many other undisclosed truths as well, that Jesus still says to us ‘it is not for you to know’. The ‘secret things’ belong to God, and we should not pry into them; it is the ‘revealed things’ which belong to us, and with these we should rest content.17
Secondly, although they were not to know the times or dates, what they should know was that they would receive power so that, between the Spirit’s coming and the Son’s coming again, they were to be his witnesses in ever-widening circles. In fact, the whole interim period between Pentecost and the Parousia (however long or short) is to be filled with the world-wide mission of the church in the power of the Spirit. Christ’s followers were both to announce what he had achieved at his first coming and to summon people to repent and believe in preparation for his second coming. They were to be his witnesses ‘to the ends of the earth’ (1:8) and ‘to the very end of the age’.18 This was a major theme of Bishop Lesslie New-bigin in his book The Household of God:
The Church is the pilgrim people of God. It is on the move—hastening to the ends of the earth to beseech all men to be reconciled to God, and hastening to the end of time to meet its Lord who will gather all into one.… It cannot be understood rightly except in a perspective which is at once missionary and eschatological.19
We have no liberty to stop until both ends have been reached. Indeed the two ends, Jesus taught, would coincide, since only when the gospel of the kingdom has been preached in the whole world as a testimony to all nations, only then ‘will the end come’.20
So this was the substance of the Lord’s teaching (as we know also from the Gospels) during the forty days between the resurrection and the ascension: when the spirit came in power, the long promised reign of God, which Jesus had himself inaugurated and proclaimed, would begin to spread. It would be spiritual in its character (transforming the lives and values of its citizens), international in its membership (including Gentiles as well as Jews) and gradual in its expansion (beginning at once in Jerusalem, and then growing until it reaches the end of both time and earthly space). This vision and commission must have given clear direction to the [Acts, Page 45] disciples’ prayers during their ten days of waiting for Pentecost. But before the Spirit could come, the Son must go. This is Luke’s next topic.
Acts 1:6–6:7
1. Waiting for Pentecost
1:6–26
The major event of the early chapters of the Acts took place on the Day of Pentecost, when the now-exalted Lord Jesus performed the last work of his saving career (until his coming again) and ‘poured out’ the Holy Spirit on his waiting people. His life, death, resurrection and ascension all culminated in this great gift, which the prophets had foretold and which would be recognized as the chief evidence that God’s kingdom had been inaugurated. For this conclusion of Christ’s work on earth was also a fresh beginning. Just as the Spirit came upon Jesus to equip him for his public ministry,1 so now the Spirit was to come upon his people to equip them for theirs. The Holy Spirit would not only apply to them the salvation which Jesus had achieved by his death and resurrection but would impel them to proclaim throughout the world the good news of this salvation. Salvation is given to be shared.
Before the Day of Pentecost, however, there was to be a time of waiting, for forty days between the resurrection and the ascension of Jesus (1:3), and for ten more between Ascension and Pentecost. Jesus’ instructions were quite clear, and Luke repeats them for emphasis, first at the end of his Gospel and then at the beginning of Acts. ‘Stay in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high.’2 ‘Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift my Father promised, which you have heard me speak about’ (1:4). During the fifty-day waiting period, however, they were not inactive. On the contrary, Luke singles out for comment four important events. First, they received their commission (1:6–8). Secondly, they saw Christ go into heaven (1:9–12). Thirdly, they persevered together in prayer, presumably for the Spirit to come (1:13–14). Fourthly, they replaced Judas with Matthias as the twelfth apostle (1:21–26). Not that we are to think of these as human activities only. For it is Christ who commissioned them, ascended into [Acts, Page 40] heaven, promised them the Spirit they prayed for, and chose the new apostle. Dr Richard Longenecker goes further and sees these four factors as comprising what he calls ‘the constitutive elements of the Christian mission’, namely the mandate to witness, the ascended Lord who directs the mission from heaven, the centrality of the apostles in this task, and the coming of the Spirit to empower them.3 Only when these four elements were in place could the mission begin.
1. They received their commission (1:6–8)
6 So when they had come together, they asked him, “Lord, will you at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?”
7 He said to them, “It is not for you to know times or seasons that the Father has fixed by his own authority.
8 But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.”
During the forty days in which the risen Lord ‘showed himself’ to the apostles, and ‘gave many convincing proofs that he was alive’ (3), Luke indicates what he taught them. First, he spoke to them ‘about the kingdom of God’ (3), which had been the burden of his message during his public ministry and indeed (judging from the present participle legoœn, ‘speaking’) continued to be after his resurrection. Secondly, he told them to wait for the gift or baptism of the Spirit, which had been promised by him, the Father and the Baptist, and which they would now receive ‘in a few days’ (4–5).
It appears, then, that Jesus’ two main topics of conversation between his resurrection and his ascension were the kingdom of God and the Spirit of God. It seems probable that he also related them to each other, for certainly the prophets had often associated them. When God establishes the kingdom of the Messiah, they said, he will pour out his Spirit; this generous effusion and universal enjoyment of the Spirit will be one of the major signs and blessings of his rule; and indeed the Spirit of God will make the rule of God a living and present reality to his people.4
So then the question which the apostles put to Jesus when they met together (Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?, 6) was not altogether the non sequitur it sounds. For if the Spirit was about to come, as he had said, did this not imply that the kingdom was about to come too? The mistake they [Acts, Page 41] made was to misunderstand both the nature of the kingdom and the relation between the kingdom and the Spirit. Their question must have filled Jesus with dismay. Were they still so lacking in perception? As Calvin commented, ‘there are as many errors in the question as words’.5 The verb, the noun and the adverb of their sentence all betray doctrinal confusion about the kingdom. For the verb restore shows that they were expecting a political and territorial kingdom; the noun Israel that they were expecting a national kingdom; and the adverbial clause at this time that they were expecting its immediate establishment. In his reply (7–8) Jesus corrected their mistaken notions of the kingdom’s nature, extent and arrival.6
a. The kingdom of God is spiritual in its character
8 But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.”
In the English language, of course, a ‘kingdom’ is usually a territorial sphere which can be located on a map, like the Hashemite kingdom of Jordan, the Hindu kingdom of Nepal, the Buddhist kingdom of Thailand, or the United kingdom. But the kingdom of God is not a territorial concept. It does not—and cannot—figure on any map. Yet this is what the apostles were still envisaging by confusing the kingdom of God with the kingdom of Israel. They were like the members of Israel’s righteous remnant whom Luke mentions in his Gospel as ‘waiting for the kingdom of God’ or ‘the consolation of Israel’,7 and like the Emmaus couple who ‘had hoped that he [Jesus] was the one who was going to redeem Israel’,8 but had become disillusioned because of the cross. The apostles’ hope, however, had evidently been rekindled by the resurrection. They were still dreaming of political dominion, of the [Acts, Page 42] re-establishment of the monarchy, of Israel’s liberation from the colonial yoke of Rome.
In his reply Jesus reverted to the topic of the Holy Spirit. He spoke of the Spirit coming upon them and giving them power to be his witnesses (8). In Charles Williams’ notable words, he departed ‘scattering promises of power’.9 It is important to remember that his promise that they would receive power was part of his reply to their question about the kingdom. For the exercise of power is inherent in the concept of a kingdom. But power in God’s kingdom is different from power in human kingdoms. The reference to the Holy Spirit defines its nature. The kingdom of God is his rule set up in the lives of his people by the Holy Spirit. It is spread by witness, not by soldiers, through a gospel of peace, not a declaration of war, and by the work of the Spirit, not by force of arms, political intrigue or revolutionary violence. At the same time, in rejecting the politicizing of the kingdom, we must beware of the opposite extreme of super-spiritualizing it, as if God’s rule operates only in heaven and not on earth. The fact is that, although it must not be identified with any political ideology or programme, it has radical political and social implications. Kingdom values come into collision with secular values. And the citizens of God’s kingdom steadfastly deny to Caesar the supreme loyalty for which he hungers, but which they insist on giving to Jesus alone.
b. The kingdom of God is international in its membership
The apostles still cherished narrow, nationalistic aspirations. They asked Jesus if he was about to restore to Israel her national independence, which the Maccabees had regained in the second century BV for a brief intoxicating period, only to lose it again.
In his reply Jesus broadened their horizons. He promised that the Holy Spirit would empower them to be his witnesses. They would begin indeed in Jerusalem, the national capital in which he had been condemned and crucified, and which they were not to leave before the Spirit came. They would continue in the immediate environs of Judea. But then the Christian mission would radiate out from that centre, in accordance with the ancient prophecy that ‘the law will go out from Zion, the word of the Lord from Jerusalem’,10 first to despised Samaria, and then far beyond Palestine to the Gentile nations, indeed to the ends of the earth. The thesis of Johannes Blauw in his book The Missionary Nature of the Church is that the Old Testament perspective was one of concern for the nations (God made them, and they will come and bow [Acts, Page 43] down to him), but not of mission to the nations (going out to win them). Even the Old Testament vision of the latter days is of a ‘pilgrimage of the nations’ to Mount Zion: ‘all nations will stream to it.’11 Only in the New Testament, Blauw adds, is a ‘centripetal missionary consciousness’ replaced by a ‘centrifugal missionary activity’, and ‘the great turning-point is the Resurrection, after which Jesus receives universal authority and gives his people a universal commission to go and disciple the nations’.12
The risen Lord’s mandate to mission begins to be fulfilled in the Acts. Indeed, as many commentators have pointed out, Acts 1:8 is a kind of ‘Table of Contents’ for the book. Chapters 1–7 describe events in Jerusalem, chapter 8 mentions the scattering of the disciples ‘throughout Judea and Samaria’ (8:1), and goes on to record the evangelization of a Samaritan city by Philip (8:5–24) and of ‘many Samaritan villages’ by the apostles Peter and John (8:25), while the conversion of Saul in chapter 9 leads on in the rest of the book to his missionary expeditions, and finally to his journey to Rome. For Christ’s kingdom, while not incompatible with patriotism, tolerates no narrow nationalisms. He rules over an international community in which race, nation, rank and sex are no barriers to fellowship. And when his kingdom is consummated at the end, the countless redeemed company will be seen to be drawn ‘from every nation, tribe, people and language’.13
c. The kingdom of God is gradual in its expansion
The apostles’ question included a specific reference to time: ‘Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?’ (1:6). Or (NEB) ‘is this the time when you are to establish once again the sovereignty of Israel?’ This had been the expectation of many during Jesus’ public ministry, as Luke makes clear in his Gospel. He records a parable which (he explains) Jesus told ‘because he was near Jerusalem and the people thought that the kingdom of God was going to appear at once’.14 So the apostles asked if Jesus would do now after his resurrection what they had hoped he would do in his lifetime; and would he do it immediately?
The Lord’s reply was twofold. First, it is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority (7). ‘Times’ (chronoi) or ‘dates’ (kairoi) together make up God’s plan, ‘the times or critical moments of its history and the seasons or epochs of its orderly development’.15 The apostles’ question [Acts, Page 44] betrayed either curiosity or impatience or both. For the Father himself had fixed the times by his own authority, and the Son had confessed that he did not know the day and hour of his return (parousia).16 So they must curb their inquisitiveness and be willing to be left in ignorance. It is not only in relation to the fulfilment of prophecy, but to many other undisclosed truths as well, that Jesus still says to us ‘it is not for you to know’. The ‘secret things’ belong to God, and we should not pry into them; it is the ‘revealed things’ which belong to us, and with these we should rest content.17
Secondly, although they were not to know the times or dates, what they should know was that they would receive power so that, between the Spirit’s coming and the Son’s coming again, they were to be his witnesses in ever-widening circles. In fact, the whole interim period between Pentecost and the Parousia (however long or short) is to be filled with the world-wide mission of the church in the power of the Spirit. Christ’s followers were both to announce what he had achieved at his first coming and to summon people to repent and believe in preparation for his second coming. They were to be his witnesses ‘to the ends of the earth’ (1:8) and ‘to the very end of the age’.18 This was a major theme of Bishop Lesslie New-bigin in his book The Household of God:
The Church is the pilgrim people of God. It is on the move—hastening to the ends of the earth to beseech all men to be reconciled to God, and hastening to the end of time to meet its Lord who will gather all into one.… It cannot be understood rightly except in a perspective which is at once missionary and eschatological.19
We have no liberty to stop until both ends have been reached. Indeed the two ends, Jesus taught, would coincide, since only when the gospel of the kingdom has been preached in the whole world as a testimony to all nations, only then ‘will the end come’.20
So this was the substance of the Lord’s teaching (as we know also from the Gospels) during the forty days between the resurrection and the ascension: when the spirit came in power, the long promised reign of God, which Jesus had himself inaugurated and proclaimed, would begin to spread. It would be spiritual in its character (transforming the lives and values of its citizens), international in its membership (including Gentiles as well as Jews) and gradual in its expansion (beginning at once in Jerusalem, and then growing until it reaches the end of both time and earthly space). This vision and commission must have given clear direction to the [Acts, Page 45] disciples’ prayers during their ten days of waiting for Pentecost. But before the Spirit could come, the Son must go. This is Luke’s next topic.
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