Ac 3:12-26
26 April 2009
3rd Sunday of Easter
“Times of Refreshing”
There was a fellow
who lived in Italy during the 1500s who had a reputation of being both humble
and of having a lively sense of humor. We
know him as St. Philip Neri, and his feast day happens to be one month from
now, on May 26.
There are a number of stories that circulate about him.[1] For instance, there was a priest who gave an eloquent sermon, and then congratulated himself for it. In response, Philip told him to preach six more times. (Hey, he must have been impressed! That would add up to God’s perfect number seven!) There was a catch, though: he had to preach the same sermon all six times. That way, people would think it was the only one he had! (That Philip could be a real stinker.)
The greater his reputation for holiness, the more
ridiculous Philip wanted to appear. When some people came from Poland to
visit the great saint, they found him laughing as another priest was reading
jokes to him. No word on what kind of
jokes they were!
There’s a website called “Sacred
Space.” It’s run by Jesuits in Ireland;
I like to go to it for prayer time. In a reflection on Judas Iscariot, the
folks at Sacred Space posted this: “St. Philip Neri used to pray:
Lord, beware of this Philip or he will betray you! Lay your hand upon my
head, for without you there is not a sin I may not commit this day.”
Sitting there in front of the computer, I really made that my prayer.
Lord, beware of this James or he will betray you! Lay your hand upon my
head, for without you there is not a sin I may not commit this day. I
wish it weren’t so, but without God’s grace, I’m afraid that it’s true.
We like to think that there are some things we would never do. Never!
I don’t know if that’s true for you, but it is for me. When it comes to doing bad stuff, maybe those
other people are capable of it. You know who I’m talking about! Those people with their weird clothes, or
their weird ideas, or their weird accents!
Still, given the right circumstances,
the right conditions—or should I say the wrong conditions?—we’re capable
of almost anything. And for those who think otherwise, remember what
Peter “vehemently” says to Jesus on Maundy Thursday, the final night of his
life. He protests, “Even though I must die
with you, I will not deny you” (Mk 14:31). Famous last words!
Without the hand of the Lord laid upon our heads, as St. Philip Neri prays, our
protests become little more than empty bluster. We become like those who
Peter addresses in today’s reading in Acts.
And as we see, they did something that maybe we feel we could never do.
But let’s put
this into context. At the beginning of
chapter 3, Peter and John are going to the temple for the afternoon hour of
prayer. A man who’s been lame all his
life is begging for alms—giving alms to such a person is considered a righteous
act. Peter gets his attention and says,
“I have no silver or gold, but what I have I give you; in the name of Jesus
Christ of Nazareth, stand up and walk” (v. 6).
So the guy
starts jumping up and down, shouting and praising God. As you might expect, this draws a crowd. And so, we start today’s passage, with Peter
asking the people, “Why are you staring at us?
[Well, maybe the shouting had something to do with it!] We didn’t heal this man all by ourselves!”
So now, what
has Peter’s audience done? What does he
accuse them of? Peter attributes the
man’s healing to Jesus, the one “you handed over and rejected in the presence
of Pilate, though he had decided to release him” (v. 13).
These group accusations have to be read
with care. Obviously, the people at hand
aren’t identical to the crowd on Good Friday.
Sloppy reading of scripture has fueled anti-Jewish bias for centuries of
church history. Peter speaks of a prevailing
public feeling regarding Jesus.
Peter goes on, saying, as the NRSV puts
it, “you rejected the Holy and Righteous One and asked to have a murderer given
to you, and you killed the Author of life, whom God raised from the dead” (vv.
14-15). Asking for a murderer and
killing the author of life: do they see themselves that way? As Peter will say, he knows that they acted
in ignorance; they didn’t really know what they were doing.
Many just went along with the crowd,
but there were a few who may have felt they had good intentions. If Jesus, even indirectly, were to be the cause
of a clampdown by the Roman officials, maybe it would be better if Pilate released Barabbas, that vicious thug.
Other than that ill-conceived prisoner
exchange so long ago, is it possible to see “asking for a murderer and killing
the author of life” in other ways? And
though we might swear up and down that we never
would, is it possible to see ways in which we
ourselves do it? Are there ways in
which we ask for death and reject life?
I think those of us who are even a little familiar with abuse and addiction
can see that as one way the answer is “yes.”
It’s especially easy to see when people’s lives are literally in danger. If
there are repeating patterns of violence, eating disorders, substance abuse, I
think it’s easy to see how we ask for death and reject life.
But now we’re getting to why this text
works so well for Easter. Even though a
murderer has been requested…even though the author of life has been
rejected…God has seen fit to raise this one from the dead. Despite the ongoing determination of the
human race, generation after generation, to seek the ways of death, God
incessantly says, “No, there’s a better way.”
What remedy does Peter offer? What is the better way he claims to
provide? He speaks of Jesus as standing
in the tradition of the prophets. “Repent, then, and turn to God, so that he will forgive your
sins. If you do, times of spiritual
strength will come from the Lord” (vv. 19-20).
That’s how the Good News Bible puts it.
The NRSV says, “Repent therefore, and turn to God so that your sins may
be wiped out, so that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the
Lord.”
Peter’s
remedy is to “repent.” That’s the Greek
word metanoew (metanoeō), which
means to “change one’s mind.” That’s not
simply changing your opinion about something.
It’s about altering one’s entire worldview—having it transformed.
Here’s the
thing about repenting: it’s not
something we can simply decide to do, and then do it. It’s different from making a resolution, which,
depending on our strength of will, is something we can do on our own. I can resolve to start doing this or that—or
to stop doing such and such.
But
repentance is more than making a resolution.
It is both gift and effort. In
chapter 5, Peter, speaking of Jesus, says that “God exalted him at his right
hand as Leader and Savior that he might give repentance to Israel and
forgiveness of sins” (v. 31). Repentance
is a gift of God’s grace. We can’t
conjure it up using our own strength.
Still, as I
said, it is both gift and
effort. Though repentance is a gift, we
must also seek it. We have to knock on
the door. If we want the revolutionary,
mind-blowing change that repentance is, we have to desire it. No one can be forced to repent. If someone is determined to be set in their
ways, nothing can change that!
As for the
result of repentance, Peter talks about “times of spiritual strength.” What is that?
I like the way other versions put it:
“times of refreshing.” The Greek
(anayuxi", anapsyxis) literally
means “a cooling,” “a refreshing.”
You know, I’m
not really a betting man, but if I were…I’d
lay good money that if you ask most people what’s their first mental image when
they hear the word “repentance,” it would
not be this: sitting under a shade
tree on a hot summer day, drinking a tall glass of cold lemonade!
What’s so
refreshing about repentance? I can speak
from personal experience on that. As
someone who used to feel angry all the time, I thank God for the grace of
repentance that took that away from me.
I always had a bad attitude about stuff, but Jesus replaced it with
peace. But remember, it’s not just about
emotion; it really is a change of mind—a brand new way of looking
at…everything. It’s up to us as to how
far we’re willing to go.
And it’s not
something done once and for all.
Repentance is a lifestyle. If we
aren’t constantly learning—and learning new ways to be humble—then we’ve never
made the acquaintance of this character known as “repentance.”
Peter
finishes by telling the people that they have a mission. “You are the descendants of the prophets and
of the covenant that God gave to your ancestors, saying to Abraham, ‘And in
your descendants all the families of the earth shall be blessed’” (v. 25).
They are the
descendants of the prophets. In Christ,
so are we. What, says Peter, is the
mission of the prophets? To bless all
the families of the earth. Guess
what? That’s also our mission. We’re called to love our neighbor, be they
the neighbor across the road or the neighbor across the planet.
To do that, we have to get past our
hang-ups about those other people I mentioned before: the ones with weird clothes, or weird ideas,
or weird accents. (Maybe some of those
people live in your house!) Our primary
identity can’t be American, or Turkish, or Canadian, or Korean. It has to be child of God.
In any event, be careful about saying,
“I would never do that!” (Even if you really believe it.) That’s getting a little too close for comfort
to something we pray each week: “Lead us
not into temptation.” Instead, seek
repentance—embrace it—and draw strength from those times of refreshing.
It’s even better than sitting under a
shade tree, drinking cold lemonade on a hot summer day!