Saintly sinners?

Once safely on shore, we found out that the island was called Malta. ² The islanders showed us unusual kindness. They built a fire and welcomed us all because it was raining and cold. ³ Paul gathered a pile of brushwood and, as he put it on the fire, a viper, driven out by the heat, fastened itself on his hand. ⁴ When the islanders saw the snake hanging from his hand, they said to each other, “This man must be a murderer; for though he escaped from the sea, the goddess Justice has not allowed him to live.” ⁵ But Paul shook the snake off into the fire and suffered no ill effects. ⁶ The people expected him to swell up or suddenly fall dead; but after waiting a long time and seeing nothing unusual happen to him, they changed their minds and said he was a god.

⁷ There was an estate nearby that belonged to Publius, the chief official of the island. He welcomed us to his home and showed us generous hospitality for three days. ⁸ His father was sick in bed, suffering from fever and dysentery. Paul went in to see him and, after prayer, placed his hands on him and healed him. ⁹ When this had happened, the rest of the sick on the island came and were cured. ¹⁰ They honoured us in many ways; and when we were ready to sail, they furnished us with the supplies we needed. Acts 28:1-10

Jesus said, For I tell you that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven. Matthew 5:20

… what are human beings, that you think of them, mere mortals, that you care for them? Psalm 8:4

That’s not a bad question, is it, which the psalmist directs at God? What are we? Who are we? Why are we here? What distinguishes us from the animal kingdom? Are we in fact, as some have maintained, nothing but “naked apes”, hairless bipeds?

The Bible exists primarily to enable us to understand the nature of God, by whom we are made. But in doing so it also has a lot to say about the nature of humankind, who and what we are, and how God chooses to deal with us. Acts 28 may seem an unlikely part of the Bible to turn to to find even a partial answer. But I think it does, so please bear with me.

It tells the story of a shipwreck - how 276 men, including the apostle Paul, escaped death by the skin of their teeth. They are on their way to Rome, where Paul, a Roman citizen as well as a devout Jew and now also a follower of Jesus, has claimed his right to appeal to the Roman emperor against the accusations of the Jews. They discover that they have been cast ashore on an island called Malta, and chapter 28 tells us how they eventually got to Rome.

Verses1-10 give us an interesting glimpse of the people of Malta. It indirectly provides partial answers to the question we started with: “what are human beings?” So let the people of Malta be our guide…

First, we are God-like creatures.

You might protest “You don’t have to go to a relatively obscure chapter in Acts to tell us that! That truth is right there in the very first chapter of the Bible: ‘So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them’” (Genesis 1:27). Big books have been written to open up in detail all that that might mean; but however we understand it, there can be no doubt that it puts the human race in a pretty unique category. It is said of no other creatures on the face of the earth that they are made in the image of God. And that must include that we reflect God’s love and kindness.

“Ah yes,” you might say, “but things went badly wrong. We yielded to sin, disobeying and rebelling against God; this is the point of the story of Adam and Eve. We are a fallen race”. This of course is true, and it is spelled out on page after page of the Bible. But the question arises, how complete is the spoiling of human godlikeness? Has human nature become corrupt and rotten through and through? Are there no vestiges of God-like goodness remaining?

This is where the people of Malta can help us.

The ordeal of Paul’s ship would appear to have gone on for some days in sight of land, and if so the local people would have had a close-up view of their struggles. But what could they do? The storm was so ferocious that they could only watch; no doubt they had seen such tragedies many times in the past, so they could only shake their heads and wait for the inevitable.

But… the inevitable didn’t happen! The final sentence of chapter 27 tells us that, amazingly, “everyone reached land safely”. And Luke goes on to tell us that “the islanders [the Greek word, by the way, is barbaroi, barbarians] showed us unusual kindness” (28:2), lighting a fire to dry and warm them (and no doubt bringing them food).

You could ask why they bothered. If the ship’s company were so reckless and stupid as to put to sea at the wrong time of year (Paul, according to 27:9-12, had pleaded with them not to), “Well,” they might have said, “on their own heads be it. It’s no business of ours”. But they didn’t; no, they “showed us kindness” and, indeed, a kindness that was “unusual” or “exceptional”.

I find myself thinking also of the “Good Samaritan” that Jesus spoke about in Luke 10. And even of the pagan sailors in Jonah 1 who struggled heroically to save Jonah from the consequences of his own folly. Didn’t they too, though not among the children of God, show “unusual kindness”?

These examples demonstrate that the image of God in humankind is not completely snuffed out. And personal experience confirms this. We must all have known times when non-Cristian neighbours and friends – not to mention total strangers – have showed us totally undeserved kindness. Have we not all known times when people who make no claim to be Christian have, if I may invent a word, “outchristianed” us, putting us to shame by their kindness and generosity?

To say this is not to deny that we are all sinners in need of forgiveness and salvation. Certainly not. In Romans 3:9-18 Paul collects together a list of Old Testament texts, mainly from the psalms, which spell that out loud and clear. It begins with the uncompromising statement: “There is no-one righteous, not even one… “ and goes on ,”there is no one who does good, not even one…”, which reflects sinful human nature at its horrible worst. Indeed, we might all find ourselves agreeing with Paul’s words without bothering to ransack the Old Testament – do we in fact need to look any further than into the depths of our own hearts? Not me…

I said that the “barbarians” of Malta in Acts 28 had much to teach us about the nature of human nature: that it still carries glimmerings of light. But I have not got any further than my “First” heading. There is, I think, a lot more to be said – but that will have to wait till next time… join me again then, please.

Father, thank you for the stern word of Jesus that his followers’ righteousness must surpass that of even the most religious of people. Thank you too for the kindness and generosity I have received at different times from people who were not followers of Jesus. Forgive me, please, for those occasions when I fall short and bring shame on your name. Amen.

A time to be born, and a time to die

When Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice he gave up his Spirit. Matthew 27:50

…a time to be born, and a time to die. Lamentations 3:2

While they were stoning him, Stephen prayed, “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit”. Then he fell on his knees and cried out, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them”. When he had said this, he fell asleep. Acts 7:59-60

If Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ are lost. If only for this life  we have hope in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied. But Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. 1 Corinthians 15:16-20

Just recently I have been thinking a lot about death. This isn’t because I have got sucked into a particularly morbid frame of mind. Far from it. No, it’s more because death, or the possible threat of it, has come elbowing its way into our life with unusual regularity. Almost every day, it seems, there has been news of a death or a serious illness among relatives or friends, plus the usual quota of killings, murders and shocking tragedies in national and world news.

And it has touched us personally. Since September I have not been too well myself, and while I still await a diagnosis (my GP confesses herself puzzled and has referred me to the local hospital) there is bound to be that nagging sense of uncertainty: “Could this be it…?”

Death is a subject that breeds euphemisms – that is, “kind” ways of saying unwelcome things. “Oh, I don’t think about things like that”, said somebody, when we found ourselves on the subject of getting old or sick. “Things like that” presumably seemed preferable to saying just, well, “dying”. In the early years of my ministry, some fifty years ago, I remember visiting an elderly lady in a care home - only to be told, “I’m afraid she’s gone to collect her wings”. It took me a moment to grasp that, ah, of course, she had become an angel. (It didn’t seem an appropriate moment to engage in theological discussion.)

More seriously, I have sat with dying people surrounded by well-meaning friends and neighbours who insist on assuring them, “Oh, we’ll soon have you up and about again, old chap”, a truly angry-making lie.

If ever anybody should have no need of euphemisms about death, it’s the Christian. Oh yes, it’s a sad and unwelcome subject indeed, there’s no denying that: Paul describes it as “the last enemy to be destroyed” (1 Corinthians 15:26), so, if I can put it this way, all of us are playing a waiting game. But… did Jesus die and rise again, or didn’t he? Was the tomb empty on Easter morning, or wasn’t it? Are we promised that we will die and rise with him, or aren’t we?

When I was young, people who didn’t want to say that someone had “died”, but who also didn’t want to euphemise with a comical expression like “they popped their clogs”, might say “they passed away”. Today it is more likely to be just “they passed”. A man I got chatting to once on a bench in a market in Kathmandu (he very politely asked if he could practice his English on me) told me about the day his father had “expired”, which made me think of an out of date train ticket or driving license – though surely that man can be excused.

No, as Christians we have no need of euphemisms, thank God. Unless, that is, there is one that the Bible itself gives us…

It is written of Stephen that, after the ordeal of being viciously stoned, “he prayed ‘Lord Jesus, receive my spirit’. Then he fell on his knees and cried out, ’Lord, do not hold this sin against them…” And then, and this is what I’m leading up to, “… he fell asleep”. (Acts 7:59-60).

The more I think about that expression, the more beautiful and full of meaning and reassurance I find it. Stephen did “die”, of course; but he didn’t just die! No, like a baby in a cot, he fell asleep.

To fall asleep is a wonderful thing – it’s one thing we do every day of our earthly lives, but which we never witness ourselves doing. That moment when we slip into unconsciousness is a moment others may witness, but not we ourselves. And Luke, the writer of Acts, chooses to describe Stephen’s last moments with that word.

Who did notice it happening? Well, the men with the stones in their hands, of course. But I don’t think they would have thought of Stephen as falling asleep, do you? But there was somebody else on the spot who, I suspect, did – Saul, who was to became Paul: “And Saul approved of their killing him”.

According to Acts 7:58 Saul didn’t get his hands dirty by joining the mob; but he showed his complicity by looking after the coats of the killers. It was many years before Luke wrote his book, but I find it very difficult not to believe that this was the moment when Saul realised the truth of the message of Jesus. Something profound happened in him at that moment, when he saw one of Christ’s followers, in a spirit of faith – “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit” – and in a spirit of forgiveness – “Lord, do not hold this sin against them”, dying, yes, but not just dying.

According to 1 Corinthians 15 and 1 Thessalonians 4 and 5, “falling asleep” became for Paul a euphemism (if euphemism indeed it is) which he used routinely of Christians who had died, not only of “celebrity” Christians like Stephen. So why doubt that it also applies to us today? Yes, we will die; but we won’t just die. The day will come when we wake up – and oh, what a morning that will be!

Father, thank you that, in Jesus, death is a defeated enemy. Help me to know, day by day, that my life is safe in your hands, and that as I aim to live well by your grace, so also that when your time comes I will also, like Stephen, die well. Amen.

Nathanael the mystery man (2)

The next day Jesus decided to leave for Galilee. Finding Philip, he said to him, “Follow me.”

⁴⁴ Philip, like Andrew and Peter, was from the town of Bethsaida. ⁴⁵ Philip found Nathanael and told him, “We have found the one Moses wrote about in the Law, and about whom the prophets also wrote—Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph.”

⁴⁶ “Nazareth! Can anything good come from there?” Nathanael asked.

“Come and see,” said Philip.

⁴⁷ When Jesus saw Nathanael approaching, he said of him, “Here truly is an Israelite in whom there is no deceit.”

⁴⁸ “How do you know me?” Nathanael asked.

Jesus answered, “I saw you while you were still under the fig tree before Philip called you.”

⁴⁹ Then Nathanael declared, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God; you are the king of Israel.”

⁵⁰ Jesus said, “You believe because I told you I saw you under the fig tree. You will see greater things than that.” ⁵¹ He then added, “Very truly I tell you, you will see ‘heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending on’ the Son of Man.” John 1:43-51

I suggested last time that these verses, describing the first phase of Jesus’ earthly ministry, can teach us at least two straightforward but valuable lessons.

First, about evangelism, which means in essence speaking to people about faith in Christ.

The point is simple: both Andrew and Philip had a story to tell: “We have found Jesus” they said. “Come and see”. Likewise for us, evangelism isn’t primarily a matter of right doctrine, important though that is, but of personal testimony, the story of how believing in Jesus has changed our lives. Do you have a story to tell? Are you ready to tell it?

Second, a warning about prejudice.

Nathanael learns that Jesus hails from Nazareth, and greets this information with outright scepticism: “You can’t be serious - nothing good can come out of Nazareth!” (verse 46). How wrong could he be! Is it time some of us took a hard and honest look at our prejudices?

So far, so easy.

But there are also some puzzling things to grapple with…

First, What did Jesus, seeing Nathanael, mean by verse 47: “Here truly is an Israelite in whom there is no deceit”?

Is that a kind of back-handed compliment? Is Jesus saying, in effect: “All right, Nathanael may not be the most discreet and tactful of people, but at least you know where you stand with him”?

According to John 21:2 Nathanael came from the town of Cana, where Jesus would shortly work his first “sign” of turning the water into wine. There’s some disagreement among scholars about the exact location of Cana, but pretty certainly it was quite close to Nazareth, so it’s quite likely that Jesus knew something of Nathanael by reputation - that rather grumpy chap who spent many hours reading scripture and praying in the shade of his fig-tree.

But perhaps there’s something even more in the expression “an Israelite in whom there is no deceit”. Jesus will go on to talk indirectly about the experience of Jacob and his dream of the ladder going up to heaven with angels on it (Genesis 28), so is there here a reference to that experience?

Now, Jacob was one of the founding fathers of the people of Israel – but he was also a not-very-nice man, a deceiver who acted dishonestly towards his brother Esau and who was anything but straightforward in his dealings with others. Could it be that Jesus is drawing a contrast between slippery Jacob and bluff, heart-on-sleeve Nathanael, a non-entity by comparison, but a man “in whom there is no deceit”, a true, straight Israelite?

That’s only speculation, but it’s hard to think of any other explanation for Jesus’ obvious fondness for him. Whatever, we can all take to heart the need to be totally open and honest with others, to be a “what you see is what you get” kind of person. Is that you? Is it me?

Second: “How do you know me?” asks Nathanael in verse 48, clearly taken aback by Jesus’ cheerful reading of his character.

It’s a good question. How indeed?

I’ve already suggested that Nathanael may have been one of those people whose reputation travels far, and quite possibly Jesus, a local boy, had picked up on this. Verse 48 certainly implies that. Perhaps on various occasions he had walked past his home and seen him sitting under his fig-tree.

That isn’t to deny that Jesus’ knowledge may have been supernatural, but we do know from various places in the Gospels that there were things Jesus didn’t know, so why not here in the case of Nathanael? Perhaps we can take that possibility as a prompt to remember the humanness as well as the divinity of Jesus? – that he had that gift of insight, that ability to, as we say, “read people like a book”.

I knew a woman once who came to a spiritual turning point in her troubled life by being encouraged to reflect upon the earthliness of Jesus: that he really was (and still is!) a man as well as the Son of God. Might that reflection be of help to you too?

We often talk about the love which God has for us, but, perhaps rightly, we are reluctant to pin that love down too precisely: it’s more like a great beautiful light which envelopes us all and culminates in the cross. That’s fine, of course.

But there is also such a thing as a kind of “affection-love” that simply warms towards the other person, and I find it hard not to see that here. A Gershwin song celebrates “the way you wear your hat, the way you sip your tea… the way you hold your knife… the way you sing off key ”, delighting in the little foibles and quirks that we all have, and which make us the people we are.

I may be wrong, but I like to think of Jesus taking pleasure in Nathanael’s slight grumpiness and his liking for his fig-tree retreat. I like to think that he looks down on me too, not of course to excuse my many sins and failings, but to take a kind pleasure in my innocent little ways. Have you ever thought of Jesus loving you like that?

Third: What are we to make of verses 50-51, where Jesus declares that Nathanael will see far, far greater things than his (Jesus’) ability to read Nathanael’s heart.

 “You will see heaven open and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man”. What a strange picture that conjures up!

But I think I’ll have to leave it till next time…

Father, thank you for the rich mix of personality types that is found among your people. Help me to delight in the many ways my life has been enriched by my brothers and sisters in Christ, and to make it my business to be always straight, honest and true. Amen.