On Leaping and Jumping...

I was reading Acts chapter three recently.

I've read the book of Acts numerous times. As a child I enjoyed many of the stories it holds, but it wasn't until I was a freshman in college that I fell  in love with the book. I remember one evening in the student lounge reading the final chapter and desperately wanting to know what happened to the characters. I was desperate to know more: to have a sequel.

In Acts 3, a rather out of the ordinary thing happens: a crippled man is healed. Maybe today it's more ordinary: we have surgeries for that.* My wife sees patient after patient go from crippled to walking. It's common today, but not so much back then.

So, a man, crippled from birth, is carried to his favorite begging spot. And where is the favorite begging spot? The temple door. Or, the church door, if that rings more true for you. He sits outside the place of worship to ask the faithfully religious for cash.**

I'm not sure how many people gave to him that day. We have no record of it. All we know is that two men were going into the temple, and they were asked, as we assume many others were asked: "brother can you spare a dime?"

Now, apparently he asked the wrong guys, because they were broke. Or at least, by their own admission, they have no silver and gold. But they are far from broke. they have something far more valuable:

They know a guy.

And, this guy, thought not anywhere to be seen, heals the crippled man.

The unseen one is named, the men speak his name: Jesus Christ of Nazareth. And when even the most remarkable, unimaginable things are spoken in this name they happen. People who have never walked, begin to walk.

Peter, the one who spoke the name gets credit for the healing, for he doesn't deserve it or even accept it.

There are two things in this story that are really speaking to me right now.***

1. He began praising God. There is a song about this story that tells us he was leaping and jumping and praising God. Well, we don't see him leaping and jumping here, but perhaps he was in his heart. He was, none the less, praising God.

It's understandable that he has much to praise God for.

He can now praise God that he is no longer employed. He can wake up the next morning and begin looking for something else to do with his life.

In his rare case, this is a very good thing.

God has just changed everything about his life. But maybe that's not so rare.

I then begin asking, what in my life has God changed? What areas has he touched? Have there been transformations in me?

You better believe it.

I've never been crippled. I don't know what it's like to lack the physical strength to walk. But God has done, and continues to do, wonderful things in my life. I look at my family, I hug my daughter, I feel kicks coming from within my wife's uterus, I savor an afternoon sitting by the lake tossing stones into the water, and realize the everything in my life is as much a gift as that man beginning to walk.

And have I ever, do I ever, go around leaping and jumping and praising God?

Not nearly enough.

There are things every day that I need to praise God for: that I need to jump up and do a dance of joy for.

2. Peter, the one the people try and credit for the healing, asks the crowd a telling question: "Why does this surprise you?"

Am I surprised that God healed this man? Am I surprised by God?

Or more accurately of myself, do I ever ask God for over the top things: things so big only God can do them?

Why?

Do I think God can't do it? Do I think he won't? Why don't I ask God?

I bring God petty things all the time. Why no outrageous things?

Am I trying handle them on my own? Or am I seeking nothing outrageous?

The crowd recognized this guy. They recognized that he used to beg outside the temple. They must have been passing him by for years. I wonder if anyone ever stopped to ask God to heal him. I doubt it. Surly Peter wasn't the first one to pass by without cash. Why does he seem to be the first to ask God to heal him?

What huge, massive, outrageous things might God be doing around me that I'm missing out on?

Why am I surprised?  Why am I not asking God?

Is this true of any of you?

Why not go read Acts 3 and see what stands out for you?


*I'm sensing an apple app spoof with the tag line: "There's a surgery for that."

**As a side note, I wonder what would happen if on Sunday morning there was someone homeless, or crippled, or someone who can't find work for a variety of reasons, perched outside of our church asking for donations. What would I do? What would our church do? What would your church do?

***Besides my curiosity about whether or not anyone who gave to the crippled man wanted their money back. I wonder this very much, and maybe one day I'll get an answer. Perhaps this curiosity speaks more about me than anything else.

More From Acts 19

If the whole dirty rags part of Acts 19 wasn't really your thing, then get ready, because Acts 19 is about to get weird--well, weirder. 

I've never been beaten up.

The closest I have ever come was when two guys in college chased me around campus* then tackled me and began giving me the tickling of a life time, which, for some reason, including patting my belly.

This happened repeatedly.

I'm still recovering.

Like many things, my expertise in the realm of beat downs is limited to what I've learned from watching television.

So naturally, I like to think that I know the ins and outs of getting smacked around.

This is because I like to think that watching something on TV makes me an expert at it. That's why I attempt golf, try to solve complex physics problems on white boards, tell the quarterback who's open down field, think I'm the funniest man alive, and am considering trying to catch bullets with my teeth.

Now, on TV, when guys get smacked around it either ends very horribly for them, or very comically. We're about to read about one that ends rather comically.

Acts 19 says this:

Some Jews who went around driving out evil spirits tried to invoke the name of the Lord Jesus over those who were demon-possessed. They would say, "In the name of Jesus, whom Paul preaches, I command you to come out." Seven sons of Sceva, a Jewish chief priest, were doing this. One day, the evil spirit answered, them, "Jesus I know, and I know about Paul, but who are you?" Then the man who had the evil spirit jumped on them and over powered them all. He gave them such a beating that hey ran out of the house naked and bleeding. (Acts 19:13-16 NIV)

Let's break this down a bit and help you get the picture that's in my head.

Let's start with the seven. These were sons of a chief priest. We might call them Pastor's Kids. So here we go again with another story about pastor's kids gone wild. What are they up to now?

But I think these guys are actually trying to do some good. Okay, so maybe their motives weren't the most pure, we can't say for certain but it is possible they were trying to heal people in order to become famous. However, they were trying to do good. They were trying to drive out spirits. That is commendable.

Let's move on.

They just went about it wrong. They traded knowing God, for knowing God's name.

I can't help but think that their attempt at casting out a demons was something like trying to diffuse a bomb because you saw a guy do it once on TV.

And sure enough, this one guy, like a bomb when the wrong wire is cut, goes off on them.

I'd love to see a picture of what this one guy looked like. Was he a tiny guy, unintimidating, but with a whole lot of fury pent up inside of him? Or should they have known better because when Goliath says "I have no idea who you are" you better start running?

I hope he was a little pip squeak.

I hope they never saw the beating coming.

But then again, I love to root for the underdog. And in this case part of me is glad that the underdog won, even if he was demon-possessed.

Because what happens next seems really funny to me.

Then the man who had the evil spirit jumped on them and overpowered them all. He gave them such a beating that they ran out of the house naked and bleeding. (Acts 19:16 NIV)

One would think that the seven guys could handle the one.

How humiliating must that have been.

I bet when they told their buddies the story the guy had 13 demons.

And 33 inch biceps.

And absolutely repulsive b.o.

And horses instead of legs.

All so that he could balance on one of the horses legs while simultaneously kicking all seven brothers.

It would make sense for seven guys to be running through the street, bloody and naked, when a mob is after them. But there's just one guy. One guy severely annihilated the seven.

And that's kinda weird.

But what gets even more weird, and by that I mean abnormal, is that a demon speaks rather truthfully.

We're often told that Satan is a liar, which is true at times, so we would think that every word from one of his henchmen would also be a lie. But we have here a demon making plain an obvious truth. He's calling them out--calling out their hypocrisy.

And then teaches them a lesson.

But let up enough for them to get away.

And yes the guy had an evil spirit help him out.

But I think God was in the middle of it all.

He was, at the very least, aware of it.

I think it might be easy to pick on these brothers because they tried the run around on God. But God used the situation to build his church. Consider the results in verse 17 & 18:

When this became known to the Jews and Greeks living in Ephesus, they were all seized with fear, and the name of the Lord Jesus was held in high honor. Many of those who believed now came and openly confessed their evil deeds. 


Here's how I see this:

We've got an opponent of God's work calling out some fakers, then a whole lot of truth breaks out.

The community stopped faking it.

Somehow the demon made sense of the situation before the chief priest's boys did. And once the truth is made known a whole lot of people begin fessing up.

The community stopped faking it.

Many of those who believed now came and openly confessed their evil deeds.


Maybe this was purely motivated by a desire to avoid future humiliation at the hands of evil spirits. But before the honesty there was a newfound reverence for the name of the Lord. And that makes me think that when their honesty was well intentioned.

They didn't want to fake it anymore.

They didn't want to fake a perfect life when in reality their lives were filled with evil deeds.

They didn't want to fake knowing God.

They didn't want to act like they knew God when really they only knew his name.

I wonder how often we go around faking knowing God.

To be honest it seems rather unspritual to have to admit that there is a whole lot about God I don't know--especially as a pastor.  It would be easy to pretend to have God all figured out. And I wonder if that's why there is so much religious turmoil. Becuase we, as Christians, pretend to be experts in something we aren't. We pretend to think that God has a certain view or opinion on a matter when we can't say for certain: even though we speak very certainly about it.

Don't get me wrong, there is much we do know. I'm merely saying that maybe we don't know as much as we like to think.

I think there is so much of God that we don't know.

I need to admit that I'm not a God expert. I'm a God pursuer. My life is about getting to know God more and more each day. And that pursuit will take all of eternity.

I think we need to be more open about our lack of knowledge. More willing to say: "I have no idea what I'm doing even though I've seen it done on TV."

We need to stop faking it.

We need to pursue knowing God instead of only knowing his name. I know lots of names. That doesn't mean I know lots of people. There is a difference there that our society struggles with today.

It's bad enough to act like I know Paul when I don't. I don't want to make it worse by acting like I know Jesus when there is so much more to learn.


*it should probably be said that due to the small size of our college campus, I didn't have far to run. It was one building. I just wanted to say something more grand than, "chased me around the room."

Great Mental Imagery from Acts 19

Acts 19 tells the events that happened in the city of Ephesus as the church there was being birthed. Some crazy stuff happens--stuff that I think would make most church goers uneasy. These events, spark some vivid images in my mind. The first one involves hankies.

I'm not a fan of the hanky, or handkerchief if you're all proper like that.

And here's why, I'm not the least bit interested in putting snot into my pocket. Disposable tissues exist for a reason. They are a quick easy delivery system transporting mucus from my nose to the garbage can, and ultimately the landfill  where it belongs. Snot does not belong in my pocket. And neither does a hanky.

Now, when you have a baby you have to get used to snot.

Actually, snot is the easiest of baby "things" to get used to.

Yesterday my wife made mini ginger & carrot bran muffins. Our one year old loves them. She ate two this morning for breakfast.

This morning I had to deal with a very messy diaper.

And for some reason we avoid using disposable wipes.

I'm okay with the cloth diapers. Actually, I really like them. But the wipes issue is one I'm struggling with. I like to wipe and toss, not wipe, rinse, clean bathroom spattered with poopy splash water, toss in bin, wash bin contents, repeat.

I get the whole save money, save the planet approach.

But the planet is the least of my worries when my toes are soaked in water that ricocheted off of a poopy cloth.

There are some conveniences of our "disposable generation" that I like. Namely, disposing gross cloths whose sole purpose is to become soiled and then disposed of.

For that matter I don't reuse tissues either. Dirty them and dispose of them: that is their destiny.

This morning I was reading in Acts 19 and it seems some people found a good use for the apostle Paul's dirty handkerchief's.

consider these verses from Acts 19:

God did extraordinary miracles through Paul, so that even handkerchiefs and aprons that had touched him were taken to the sick and their illnesses were cured and the evil spirits left them. (Acts 19:11-12 NIV)

There is so much going on here to comment on.

Consider this, you have a rare time when a dirty hanky is curing illness instead of spreading it. Usually you'd see a dirty cloth and avoid it for fear of catching something. Here, a dirty cloth is used to cure an ailment: either spiritual, or physical, or both. Now, I'm not about to go looking through trash to find healing aids. But in Paul's day, people who had sick loved ones were desperate to find healing for them, even if it meant collecting Paul's trash, or offering him your handkerchief so that you could use it to later heal your brother.

But it's not just handkerchiefs. It's aprons too. Never has there been a better use for that tired, old, "kiss the cook" apron than this.

Now, I really appreciate it that Luke begins this wee story with the words: "God did extraordinary miracles through Paul, so that..."

Often the book of Acts is called "the Acts of the Apostles," but really, as Luke points out again and again, it's the Acts of God. God is the one doing the work here. God is the one doing the extraordinary miracles. God is the one healing.

And sometimes that healing comes through a touch, and sometimes it's through snot.

I think that if God were to begin doing extraordinary miracles through me I'd be too tempted to take credit. If my dirty tissues were healing people I'd begin gathering people around to sneeze on them. I'd probably even charge admission. But that's not what we see with Paul. God is given the credit.

And rightly so, God is doing the work.

I hope that I'm giving God enough credit.

Paul still had a job to do for God. God didn't need Paul to do it, but he blessed Paul's work.

By backing up a verse, to verse 10, we see that Paul spent two years living in a foreign city to spread the gospel message. Paul was working hard. As a result "all the Jews and Greeks who lived in the province heard the word of the Lord."

That's something.

But what is more, a few chapters earlier in the story Paul is prevented entirely from entering the province. He was eager to preach in Asia in chapter 16 but headed to Macedonia instead because he couldn't get in. Now he's in, has been in for a couple years, and is seeing much success.

God was up to something.

God was doing an incredible, "extraordinary" work.

I know I'm sometimes guilty of overlooking stuff. I can easily overlook what God can use. And I can easily overlook what God is doing.

I think God is up to a whole lot more than I give him credit for. And I hope that one day soon I'll have the eyes to see it. And most of all I hope that I don't discard that which he is most desiring to use for his glory--be it a person he desires to use who is in the process of transformation into something beautiful, or a dirty old rag.

And that reminds me: I have a bathroom to disinfect.