Ac 15:1-21

9 May 2010

6th Sunday of Easter

 

“Table Manners (part 2)”

 

          When I was in junior high school, I took a class called Speech.  As the name suggests, the purpose of the class was to give speeches—to practice public speaking before our fellow classmates.  For me, the toughest assignment was when we had to deliver a speech that was humorous in nature.  Our teacher told us we have to be funny.

I don’t remember the topic that I addressed, but I was convinced it would be quite amusing.  I sure thought it was funny, but I guess I was the only one.  There was not a single laugh to be heard.  Of course, being nervous does hinder one’s ability to be funny.  (I still remember the guy who got the most laughs.  He didn’t even bother to prepare a speech.  He simply ripped off a skit from Saturday Night Live!)

My main reason for starting with that Speech class was another assignment our teacher gave us that semester:  speaking on a controversial issue.  He asked us about various topics and the way we felt about them.  Our job was to make a convincing case for the position we believed in.  Then we had to make a convincing argument for the other point of view.  Our teacher let us know that if we weren’t equally convincing for the other side, our grade would be affected!

That’s one of the few assignments I even remember from that school.  I think everyone needs to have that kind of experience.  It helps greatly in trying to understand what makes the other person tick, which, by the way, is not the same thing as simply surrendering your own ideas.

In Acts 15, we’ve arrived at the first major controversy in the early church.  This is the story of the Jerusalem council.  It serves as the heart of the book of Acts, both in terms of where it appears in the text and as the identity of the young church.  As I said last week, how the church defines itself is still very much in question.  According to verse 2, there is “no small dissension and debate” on the matter.  The Good News Bible calls it “a fierce argument.”

The underlying question remains as to how the followers of Jesus, the Jewish Messiah, relate to the rest of the world.  This body known as the church, which has begun as a sect within Judaism, more and more is including elements that are Gentile.  And unlike Cornelius—who I noted last week to be a “God-fearer,” one who admires the Jewish faith and tries to live according to its precepts—these Gentiles show little understanding of, and for some, little interest in, the Jewish religion.  The dust-up with Peter in chapter 11 has done almost nothing to resolve these concerns.

          Fast forward several years.  By this time, the church is spreading throughout the Roman Empire.  And Paul, who once had a reputation for bringing the pain to Christians, has had a literal change of heart.  As much as anyone, he’s now standing with those he sought to hurt—Paul is now making the case that he once opposed.  He must be convincing; Gentiles are coming to the faith.  (I think he would have gotten a good grade in my Speech class!)

          Paul, Barnabas, and their companions have been traveling through Cyprus and the southern part of Asia Minor.  They have returned to Antioch, where the Bible says “the disciples were first called ‘Christians’” (11:26).  This is where the group from Judea has arrived, and this is their message:  “Unless you are circumcised according to the custom of Moses, you cannot be saved” (v. 1).

          Last week, I spoke about the “table manners,” by way of ritual purity laws, that cause Jews to believe Gentiles are automatically unclean.  There’s a laundry list of these laws, but eating improper food and circumcision for males are a couple that get plenty of notice.  Jews coming into contact with Gentiles must themselves undergo ritual purification ceremonies.

You know, it would make getting together a little difficult.  It’s almost like having a life-long restraining order!

          Here’s how Luke lays it out.  When Paul and his friends “came to Jerusalem, they were welcomed by the church and the apostles and the elders, and they reported all that God had done with them.  But some believers who belonged to the sect of the Pharisees stood up and said, ‘It is necessary for them to be circumcised and ordered to keep the law of Moses’” (vv.4-5).

So, do these boys have a case?  By insisting that the Gentiles follow the law of Moses, are they just being obstinate?  Are they simply being the party of “no”?

Before we answer that, it should be said that the Pharisees get plenty of bad press in the New Testament.  I would add, unfairly so.  Today, when we hear the word “Pharisee,” it almost always is used as an insult.  But if we look at the history, we see that wasn’t always so.

In a sermon last month, I said that the Pharisees arise in the time between the Old and New Testaments, especially when the Greeks rule the Middle East.  Something to bear in mind is that the Pharisees and the Sadducees are rivals—they are competing parties.  While the Sadducees reflect the interests of the aristocratic and priestly classes, the Pharisees reflect the interests of the lower classes.  They try to be a party for the people.  The threat of Greek customs eroding a distinctively Jewish identity has them concerned.

Now they’re being ruled by yet another empire, the Romans.  That same concern is still there.  They don’t want to be assimilated; they don’t want to lose their identity.  With its state-of-the-art road system and seaports, the Roman Empire probably enjoys the easiest flow of people and ideas yet seen in human history.  It’s becoming a brand new world, which is a cause for both celebration and concern.

Having said all that, can we see how the Pharisees arguing with Paul and Barnabas might have a legitimate case?  Can we acknowledge that they aren’t simply being stubborn?  We don’t have to totally agree with them to see that they do have some justifiable concerns.  And as it turns out, the Jerusalem council seems to reach the same conclusion.

At the end of our passage, we can see that the council does throw them a bone.  Verse 20 states that “we should write to [the Gentiles] to abstain only from things polluted by idols and from fornication and from whatever has been strangled and from blood.”

The Gentiles are asked to avoid food that has been offered to idols or that still contains blood.  (No rare steak!)  They also need to observe the stricter Jewish standards when it comes to sex.  As the late F. F. Bruce put it, “This would smooth the path of social and table fellowship between Christians of Jewish and Gentile birth.”[1]

Verse 21 assures everyone that the law of Moses isn’t being neglected, saying that “in every city, for generations past, Moses has had those who proclaim him, for he has been read aloud every sabbath in the synagogues.”  There’s no attempt to, so to speak, throw the baby out with the bath water.

Nonetheless, let me remind us of something I spoke about last week.  It’s inevitable that we do have differences and distinctions, but encouraging the ones that crush human life are not to be tolerated.  Diversity is a fact of life.  How we handle it is a different question.

The story is told about the student who goes to the rabbi and says, “Teacher, you have taught that all of us are created in the image of God.”  The rabbi responds, “Yes, that is true.”  “Well then,” the student replies, “how is it that we come in so many different colors and shapes and sizes?”  The rabbi answers, “Because we have been created in the image of God.”

In Acts 15, the Jerusalem council goes along with the distinctions about food and sex.  But remember Peter’s argument in verses 10 and 11:  “why are you putting God to the test by placing on the neck of the [Gentile] disciples a yoke that neither our ancestors nor we have been able to bear?  On the contrary, we believe that we will be saved through the grace of the Lord Jesus, just as they will.”  He’s talking about the vast array of laws they’ve been debating.

And in the decision, James, the respected elder of the Jerusalem church, agrees with that.  “I have reached the decision,” he says, “that we should not trouble those Gentiles who are turning to God” (v. 19).  Later in the chapter, the letter they draft reads “it has seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us to impose on you no further burden than these essentials,” which are the, relatively speaking, minor provisions we just looked at (v. 28).

They are careful to not endorse differences and distinctions that crush human life.  They strongly assert the good news.  Salvation—life itself—comes through Jesus Christ, not through shouldering a heavy yoke of rules and regulations.  Over and over, we need to remind ourselves of that.

It is very easy for us to encourage, not human life, but subhuman life.  Last week, I asked us to think about a couple of things.  What is it within us that seeks to exclude?  What is it that we fear?  In reality, we use fear to stifle the full expression of human life.  We force each other to behave in subhuman—call it reptilian—ways.  Reptiles aren’t very good at expressing love and hope!  The reptilian part of our brain isn’t very good with complex ideas and emotions.

We tend to fear what we don’t understand.  That assignment in my Speech class I mentioned at the beginning—where we had to argue for both sides of the question—that’s nothing more than educating ourselves.  That means not limiting ourselves to those who already agree with us.

I’m absolutely convinced that learning about, and being friends with, people who disagree with me religiously and politically has greatly helped me.  It has made me a better Christian.  For example, learning about Buddhism or Islam—and even more, getting to know Buddhists and Muslims as people—helps to dispel the paranoia and bigotry that I know is in me.

Yet at the same time, to the extent I’ve allowed myself to do that, I’ve gotten to know Jesus better.  How can I share Jesus with others if I don’t know and love him myself?

Acts 15 presents the first major controversy in the early church.  Our spiritual ancestors trust the Holy Spirit to guide them through the debate.  They reach a decision.  Does that mean that the issue never again arises?  Of course not.  As I’ve suggested, each generation has its own spin on table manners.  Maybe more important than their pronouncement is the process.

We can learn from them.  We can learn to trust the Holy Spirit, even when it looks like the only options are either fighting or surrendering our Christian identity.  In fact, the more hopeless the options look, the greater the need to trust the Spirit who leads us into all the truth and who raised Jesus from the dead.



[1] F. F. Bruce, Commentary on the Book of the Acts (Grand Rapids:  Eerdmans, 1987), 311.