Acts 3:12-19
12 When Peter saw it, he addressed the
people, "You Israelites, why do you wonder at this, or why do you stare at
us, as though by our own power or piety we had made him walk? 13 The God of
Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, the God of our ancestors has
glorified his servant Jesus, whom you handed over and rejected in the presence
of Pilate, though he had decided to release him. 14 But you rejected the Holy
and Righteous One and asked to have a murderer given to you, 15 and you killed
the Author of life, whom God raised from the dead. To this we are witnesses. 16
And by faith in his name, his name itself has made this man strong, whom you
see and know; and the faith that is through Jesus has given him this perfect
health in the presence of all of you. 17 "And now, friends, I know that
you acted in ignorance, as did also your rulers. 18 In this way God fulfilled
what he had foretold through all the prophets, that his Messiah would suffer.
19 Repent therefore, and turn to God so that your sins may be wiped out…
You’ve probably seen them, but I bet
you’ve hardly noticed them. They litter the shoulders of the two-lane highways
that cut their way north and south, east and west across this state. Some of
them look simple enough; just a plain, white-painted, wooden building. Others
may be wrapped in crumbling, red brick or maybe even made of concrete blocks,
usually painted white or some pale shade of blue, faded by the sun and the passage
of time. You’d never know what most of them are if it wasn’t for the
hand-painted sign facing the highway or the little plywood steeple nailed to
the roof. These micro-churches across this state likely outnumber all the megachurches
across this country. These are the churches where I (and likely hundreds of
others) cut my teeth as a preacher, and I can still recall what many of them
were like.
There was Riverview Baptist Church
down around LaFayette, Alabama. It was a small church in what was left of a
mill town. I remember the couple who picked me up and took me to lunch that
day: they were a sweet older couple, and the husband called his wife “Momma”
and whistled when he talked, because half of one of his front teeth was missing.
That church sent me a birthday card a few weeks later. There was Duck River
Baptist Church (I believe it was in Cullman, Alabama); they had an actual
screen door on the front door of the church! There was another church (the name
and place escape me) that had a ceiling fan directly over the pulpit, and it
needed it because it was a block building with an old air-conditioning unit. As
I got up to preach in that church I heard someone whisper, “Go back there and
turn that fan off so it doesn’t blow the pages of his Bible around.” I don’t
think I’ve ever sweat so much in the pulpit before. There are countless
memories I have of those churches, those people, and those buildings, but there
is one in particular that comes to my mind this morning.
Again, I can’t recall the name of
the church or just where it was (which probably tells you more about the church
and the impression it left on me). I remember it was a small gathering of
folks, even for one those churches,
but what struck me most directly was what I noticed as I was gathering my
things to leave the church after the service. At first, I assumed there was
just something left in the sill of the window, but when I looked closer I
noticed it was in all the windows, even on the ends of the pews. More still, I
noticed it was on the piano, the organ, even the pulpit. It seemed every piece
of furniture, every flat piece of construction, was marked with anywhere from
one to a dozen little, brass plates. On every plate, engraved in clear print,
was the name of an individual or family, a date, a dollar amount, and the
reason for the donation. One of the plates would read something like: “Jim & Mary Smith. September 1987. $250.
For the window frame.” Even the pew Bibles and hymnals were marked with the
names of those who had given the money to buy them. As I looked around that
room it quickly became clear to me who got the credit for the existence of that
church, because not a single one of those brass plates, not a single hymnal nor
Bible, said Jesus Christ.
Clearly, we are a people who want
our recognition; we want the credit for the things we do, the money we give,
the time we serve. Whether it’s in the form of brass plates, wooden plaques, paper
certificates, or a public slap on the back, we want the credit that we feel is
due to us. If we have a hand in it, someone had better make sure everyone else
knows it, or else we may never do it again. We may never give our time, our money, or our efforts
to help out again. I wonder where the Church would be today if everyone who
ever did anything demanded credit for their actions—I wonder how Luke would
have written this third chapter of Acts if Peter or John had decided to take
credit for their apparent actions.
It was a sight to behold, I’m sure.
Every day, about the time for “prayer meeting” at the temple, a small group of
people would haul out this man, a man who couldn’t walk, a man who could only
watch as the worshippers walked in and out of the gates of the temple, up and
down the stairs. They’d sit him by the gate called Beautiful so he could beg
for alms from the people as they filed in through the gate and into the temple
complex.
You’ve probably seen people like him, but I wonder if you’ve ever
noticed them. They stand in the parking lots of Wal-Marts with their cardboard
signs needing a little help to get back on their feet; they walk along the
shoulder of the highway; they sit in the medians at high-traffic intersections,
sometimes with clever signs that say things like, “Bet you can’t hit me with a
quarter,” or “Wife kidnapped by ninjas: need money for karate lessons.” They’re
the modern-day equivalent to this man outside the temple gate. I suppose,
however, the greatest difference between the man here in the third chapter of
Acts and the individuals we see today is that this man outside the Beautiful
Gate has no disability insurance, no local homeless shelter to stay in for the
night, no local charities to help him buy food or medicine. This man’s sole
source of income is the generosity of the worshippers who come in and out of
the temple, and on this particular day recorded by Luke in the third chapter of
Acts, two of those worshippers were disciples of the recently resurrected Jesus
of Nazareth, Peter and John.
Luke tells us in verses
three through seven prior to our text this morning that, When
[the man] saw Peter and John about to go into the temple, he asked them for
alms. Peter looked intently at him, as did John, and said, "Look at
us." And he fixed his attention on them, expecting to receive something
from them. But Peter said, "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." And
he took him by the right hand and raised him up; and immediately his feet and
ankles were made strong. Now, I can imagine what a ruckus this would
have caused, for Luke continues in verse
eight: Jumping up, he stood and began to walk,
and he entered the temple with them, walking and leaping and praising God.
See, not only had this man started walking—he was leaping,
shouting, praising God! Beyond that, though, he entered the temple with Peter
and John, a place he was forbidden to go as a lame man. He was causing a scene,
and Luke tells us all the people saw him and they gathered in a place called
Solomon’s Portico, while this man clung to Peter and John. It’s at this point
where I believe we see that Peter and John are truly followers of Jesus;
they’ve grown completely into their roles as apostles. Some might point to the
miracle itself and say that’s the proof of their devotion to Christ. Some may
even point to the fact that Peter and John stopped to speak to the beggar in
the first place, rather than simply throwing him some pocket change. I,
however, like to think that it’s right here, in this moment, when all the eyes
of the crowd are focused on them, that Peter and John show the depth of their
discipleship. Why? Because they don’t seek the credit for what just happened.
I can imagine what would happen if this took place today, if Peter
and John had healed this man outside the doors of any megachurch: the news vans
would swarm the place; questions would begin to fly at them about how they did
it and why; Trinity Broadcasting Network would be on the phone along with Benny
Hinn’s agent wondering if they’d like to join him on a televised crusade
traveling the country healing everything from sore knees to brain tumors. Yes,
I can imagine the circus that would follow as cell phone videos were uploaded
to YouTube and people began texting their friends describing the miracle that
they just witnessed. Of course, when these kinds of things happen today those
involved are elevated to “hero” status, invited to important benefits, and
given special recognition at the president’s annual State of the Union address.
But not Peter and John, not the way Luke tells it.
The first words out of Peter’s mouth when he notices the gathering
crowd and sees the look of amazement on each face are not words claiming his
obvious accomplishment. No, neither Peter nor John begins to shout out their
claims of power and ability. Rather, Peter responds to the crowd in verses 12 and 13 by saying: You Israelites, why do you
wonder at this, or why do you stare at us, as though by our own power or piety
we had made him walk? The God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of
Jacob, the God of our ancestors has glorified his servant Jesus... Peter says, in a sense, “Why are you looking at us as
if we had anything to do with this man’s newfound ability to walk? God is the
One who deserves the credit here as he has glorified Jesus in the healing of
this man.”
Neither Peter nor John takes
credit for what has just happened. The truth is, though, it seems like it would
have been easy enough for them to have done just that. After all, before their
exchange with this man he was lame—from birth—and now he can leap! Why not
stand up and claim the credit for their actions? Why not turn to the crowd and
tell them that they had done it, even if it was because of their position as
apostles? Why? Because Peter and John knew something of which we must
constantly be reminded: apart from God,
apart from Christ and the Holy Spirit, we can do nothing!
Peter goes on to tell the
crowd in verse sixteen: And by faith in his name,
his name itself has made this man strong, whom you see and know; and the faith
that is through Jesus has given him this perfect health in the presence of all
of you.
It wasn’t any sort of power that Peter or John possessed that allowed this man
to walk. It wasn’t some miraculous power to which only they had access. What
healed this man—what gave this once lame man the power to walk, leap, and
dance—was the power of faith in the name of Jesus Christ. It was his faith in
the name of Christ, a name given to him by Peter and John, that restored his
health. Neither Peter nor John took credit, because they understood that
neither of them deserved the credit; it was all on account of the power in the
name of Jesus.
But that isn’t where this story leaves us. It isn’t simply a
recollection of Peter and John and their giving credit where credit is due. No,
in fact, it seems like Peter even takes a little time to place blame—yes,
blame—unto the crowd, not for this man’s suffering, but for the death of Jesus.
Now, before we get carried away with Peter’s words and conjure up grotesque
claims about the death of the Christ at the hands of the Jewish people, let us
hear all of Peter’s words. After all, just as we like to take the credit when
we do something worth applauding, the last thing we want to do is place blame
when we may be just as guilty.
I remember sitting in the living room of my grandma’s house one
Saturday afternoon. My two cousins (David and Brad) and I had been outside
playing, and I decided I was going to go cool off in the house for a bit. While
I was lying on the floor in the living room, staring up at the infomercial
grandma was watching (something about “setting it and forgetting it”), all of
the sudden we heard a loud pop…then another one…and another one…then a quick
succession of pops and loud bangs as if someone was firing a machine gun. I
jumped up, ran out the back door and into the backyard towards my granddaddy’s
old shop. My dad had come running down the hill from his house too, and we met
David and Brad, who were standing outside the third bay of the shop, trying to
catch their breath. Their hands were stained with sticky, black paint, and they
smelled a little like gunpowder, and that’s when I noticed the thin, grey smoke
whisping out of the back of the shop. Turns out they had found an old can of
spray paint and had painted their names on the rusty tin walls of the shop, but
their prize was an unopened bag of bottle rockets, which I…I mean…someone had
taught them how to light with an old truck mirror. My dad started yelling…I
mean…lecturing them about how dangerous their actions were, when they both
looked at each other, then me, and turned to my dad in unison and said, “Well
Chris showed us where they were!” They saw the bus coming and decided to throw
me under it!
Just as much as we want the credit for the good, we don’t want the
blame for the bad, and that makes it easy for us to take Peter’s words to the
Israelites in this crowd and run with them as words of blame. In verses 13 and following it seems like
Peter is blaming them for Jesus’ death, almost as if he’s trying to redeem
something for himself out of this incident (after all, if you can’t have the
glory maybe you can stand above the losers): The God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of
Jacob, the God of our ancestors has glorified his servant Jesus, whom you
handed over and rejected in the presence of Pilate, though he had decided to
release him. But 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. To this we are witnesses… "
Yes,
it seems like Peter himself saw the bus coming and threw the Israelites under
the tires. But listen again to verses 17
through 19: And now, friends, I know that
you acted in ignorance, as did also your rulers. In this way God fulfilled what
he had foretold through all the prophets, that his Messiah would suffer. Repent
therefore, and turn to God so that your sins may be wiped out… Did you
catch it? It’s there in verse 18: In this way God fulfilled
what he had foretold through all the prophets, that his Messiah would suffer. Again, Peter gives credit
where credit is due. God used these actions, the rejection of Jesus, to fulfill
what he had foretold through the prophets. Again, Peter’s words, recorded, by
Luke, remind us that we can do nothing
without God; he can even use our ignorance for his purpose.
In the end,
Peter and John give credit where credit is due—to God and God alone. They take
none of the praise and they place none of the blame. In his last words to the
crowd in our text, Peter calls the gathered people to repent and turn to God.
Peter knew that there was no action any of them could do that would wipe out
their sins (even in the shadow of the temple), the only way was through
repentance and the power of the name of Jesus Christ. Today, may each of us in
this crowd realize that we can do nothing apart from the Almighty God. May we
let go of the constant desire for recognition and the ever-present need to
place blame. May we repent, turn to God and the cling to the power of Christ’s
name, and there may we give credit where credit is due.
Let us pray…
