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Back to the Blueprints

The Trivialization of God

 

February 14-15, 2009

Glenn McDonald

Acts 4:32-5:11

 

Building a church and being a church that honors God is not sheer guesswork. There are blueprints in the Bible. They are found, a page here and page there, throughout the 27 books of the New Testament, but primarily in the only historical narrative in that collection - the book of Acts. Since the beginning of this year we've been working our way through the story of the early Church. Last month we lingered over the most important verse in the whole book of Acts. It is chapter one, verse eight: "But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."

Being a follower of Jesus means carrying a passport in which we will need to get at least four stamps. We begin at Jerusalem. That means we represent the values of the kingdom of God where we already live, work, study, and play. Simultaneously we look for opportunities to influence Judea, places beyond our homes but which remain well within our comfort zones. We also ask God to help us be his witnesses in Samaria, which means we stand for him in academic, racial, economic, theological, and social circles that are significantly different than our present experience. Finally, we accept Jesus' call to go to the ends of the earth. His message and his love aren't just for a small circle of persuaded people. They are for the whole world.

By the middle of the fourth chapter of Acts the early Church has grown from about 120 people to more than 5,000. Its influence has had a radical impact on Jerusalem, and now it is beginning to penetrate Judea. A new kind of community has come into existence. Today our task is to peer into the reality of that shared life, and to try to make some sense of what is arguably the most disturbing and controversial story in the whole book. Let's open our Bibles to the end of Acts four and the beginning of Acts five.

At times this morning it may feel as if we're trying to take multiple stories and force them to go together. After all, we're going to be straddling two different chapters. This is a great place, therefore, to pause and address a question that every student of Scripture ultimately asks: Who decided where to put the chapter breaks in the Bible, and to assign all the verse numbers? Did God do that? Did Luke, the author of Acts, decide one evening that he had written quite enough, so he finished up chapter four and next morning began writing chapter five?

The real story is that the Bible existed for more than a thousand years before scholars began to add the touches that we now take for granted. The original text had no paragraphs, no punctuation, and no capitalized words. It was about the year 1551 that an Englishman named Robert Stephens was traveling slowly by horseback from Paris to Lyons. He apparently became tired of doing Sudoku and playing the license plate game, so he used his free moments to painstakingly assign all the current verse numbers. So if you're wondering why a certain famous verse became John 3:16 instead of John 4:44, you'll have to take it up with Robert Stephens in the next world.

For our present purposes, it's too bad that there's an arbitrary break between Acts four and five. These two texts actually comprise one story. What we learn is that the early Church is committed to radical generosity and social concern. A man named Barnabas is held up as exhibit A of getting it right, while a couple named Ananias and Sapphira become a frightening object lesson of getting things very, very wrong. Let's begin reading at Acts 4:32:

All the believers were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of his possessions was his own, but they shared everything they had. With great power the apostles continued to testify to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and much grace was upon them all. There were no needy persons among them. For from time to time those who owned lands or houses sold them, brought the money from the sales and put it at the apostles' feet, and it was distributed to anyone as he had need.

Joseph, a Levite from Cyprus, whom the apostles called Barnabas (which means Son of Encouragement), sold a field he owned and brought the money and put it at the apostles' feet.

This is a beautiful description of true community. The earliest disciples make it a practice of being there for each other. Economically, times were tough at this moment in history. Famine and political unrest had impoverished Judea, and no one was working on a stimulus plan to re-float that economy. The disciples quickly come to the conclusion that their vertical trust in Jesus has horizontal ramifications. They must care for the physical needs of their brothers and sisters in Christ.

This is not a recipe, as some have suggested, for a Christian version of socialism. The disciples all have personal possessions. But they do not consider them private possessions. As the Holy Spirit prompts them, they liquidate their assets to rescue those in dire straits. Last fall our five-week series called Hope Lives included an ongoing call to intercede economically for the world's poor. By God's grace, the resourced world can bless the Two Thirds World, where approximately 32,000 children die of starvation every day. The book of Acts suggests that every local church is to be a model of the kind of new world that God wants to bring into existence.

Some of us trip over texts like this. We sigh deeply, "If only I could give like that. But this economic downturn is killing me." Recently I listened to Bill Hybels, a pastor in suburban Chicago, address the question, What Can We Learn from a Downturn? Hybels proposed that economic hard times have the unique power to reveal how reliable the Bible's business management plan really is - in good times and bad.

Not long ago Hybels did a favor for a friend. He drove his friend's car from Chicago to Michigan. It was not a cool car. It had clear vinyl seat covers, a fuzzy steering wheel, and prayer beads hanging from the rear view mirror. Hybels described it as something that somebody's grandmother might enjoy being seen in. He was taking his time on the interstate, staying within the speed limit, when a young stud pulled up alongside him in a BMW convertible. The young guy shot him a glance, shook his head, and then shot off down the highway. Hybels says he felt like a chump - like the straight-laced guy who gets sand kicked in his face by the bully on the beach.

About 15 minutes later, however, he noticed that the young stud's car was stopped on the side of the road between two state troopers. Their lights were flashing. Presumably he had been pulled over for speeding. As Hybels put it, "All of a sudden I didn't feel so bad any more. Of course, I had to wave and pull on the prayer beads when I went by... That's part of my mercy gift."

Hybels goes on to declare that God's money management plan as revealed in Scripture is crystal clear. Earn money enthusiastically and honestly, as much as you want. Live within your means. Avoid debt like the plague, because debt is never our friend. Plan for the future by saving and investing all you can. Give generously to the poor. Honor God with the first 10% of all you earn, so that his purposes and his kingdom can be advanced. Above all, hold on to God. Trust God and not your portfolio. Hang on to him and he will bless your life. That is God's economic plan, and it works for every one of us, regardless of who we are, how old we are, or what we have or don't have.

In happy times, those practices may make us feel like chumps. We're going the speed limit and doing all the boring, responsible things, while our friends are racing past us enjoying great adventures in economic hedonism. Just about the time we think we can't go one more mile looking like a chump, the economy crashes. And suddenly "chumphood" starts looking pretty good.

What is God saying to us during this downturn? Now is the time for each of us to go back to God's economic blueprints, and to claim or reclaim his way of doing life. This is also a time in which some of us are being specially called to play the role of Barnabas. Our church has a Samaritan Fund. From time to time people feel led to put gifts into that fund. It's a modern-day equivalent of the money that was laid at the apostles' feet, so that we might meet the needs of those who live and worship alongside us. Don't be fooled by the nice clothes and the nice cars and the nice smiles that you see at this church. Some of us are in crippling financial situations.

And for that reason some of us are going to have to take a very bold step - something that is hard to do in our culture. We will have to alert someone on the staff, or perhaps our small group leader, that right now we are in a world of hurt and are going to need some help. When God's people come together under the banner of God's provision, God will help us take care of each other. I'd like to challenge you, boldly, to be one of those who offers to help others if God has so blessed you, or to ask for help if you are in need, as these difficult days unfold.

Luke has included these details from chapter four as a kind of snapshot of true community. But these words are also here for another reason. They are the backdrop for this long story that goes right over the chapter break, and which now takes a dramatic turn. Barnabas has shown us sincerity. Now we will see hypocrisy. A husband and wife succumb, as Donald McCullough puts it, to the "dangerous illusion that God is a manageable deity." Let's continue reading at chapter five, verse one:

Now a man named Ananias, together with his wife Sapphira, also sold a piece of property. With his wife's full knowledge he kept back part of the money for himself, but brought the rest and put it at the apostles' feet.

Then Peter said, "Ananias, how is it that Satan has so filled your heart that you have lied to the Holy Spirit and have kept for yourself some of the money you received for the land? Didn't it belong to you before it was sold? And after it was sold, wasn't the money at your disposal? What made you think of doing such a thing? You have not lied to men but to God."

When Ananias heard this, he fell down and died. And great fear seized all who heard what had happened. Then the young men came forward, wrapped up his body, and carried him out and buried him.

About three hours later his wife came in, not knowing what had happened. Peter asked her, "Tell me, is this the price you and Ananias got for the land?" "Yes," she said, "that is the price." Peter said to her, "How could you agree to test the Spirit of the Lord? Look! The feet of the men who buried your husband are at the door, and they will carry you out also."

At that moment she fell down at his feet and died. Then the young men came in and, finding her dead, carried her out and buried her beside her husband. Great fear seized the whole church and all who heard about these events.

What is the bottom line of this account? God is holy and awesome, and if we do not hold him in awe, there will be consequences. We are fooling ourselves if we think that we can treat God like a chump, like someone we can diss, like an absentee landlord who can be managed for our own purposes. McCullough writes, "It may well be that the worst sin of the church [during our lifetimes] has been the trivialization of God."

That idea is memorably satirized in the movie Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby, when the title character, played by Will Farrell, leads his family in prayer before dinner. He begins, "Dear Lord baby Jesus. We hope you can use your baby Jesus powers..." His wife interrupts: "You know, sweetie, Jesus did grow up. You don't always have to call him a baby." Ricky Bobby answers, "I like the Christmas Jesus best, and I'm saying grace. When you say grace you can say it to grown up Jesus, or teenage Jesus, or bearded Jesus, or whomever you want." Ricky's teammate, who happens to be sitting at the table, adds, "I like to picture Jesus in a tuxedo T-shirt, cause it says, like, ‘I want to be formal, but I like to party, too.' Cause I like to party, so I want my Jesus to party." One of Ricky's young sons throws in, "I like to picture Jesus as a Ninja fighting off evil samurai."

That scene hits far too close to home for many of us, who, if were we entirely honest, might say, "I like the Republican Jesus," or "I like the Jesus who supports venture capitalism," or "I like the Jesus who lets me sleep around." We cannot mold Jesus into someone of our own making, unless we're prepared to accept the consequences.

So what have Ananias and Sapphira conspired to do that is so wrong? As Peter puts it, they are testing the Lord. Compared to Barnabas' genuine sacrifice, their behavior is like the dark side of the moon. What makes it hypocritical is that they want their actions to appear like those of Barnabas.

Now let's agree on something up front. Nobody in this room has got the Jesus-following life figured out, let alone down pat, and all of us tend to present ourselves - intentionally or otherwise - as if we're doing better than we actually are. Acknowledging the reality of that gap, however, does not have to bring despair.

As the late Christian songwriter Rich Mullins put it, "I hear people say, ‘Why do you want to go to church? They are all just hypocrites.' I never understood why going to church made you a hypocrite because nobody goes to church because they're perfect. If you've got it all together, you don't need to go. You can go jogging with all the other perfect people on Sunday morning. Every time you go to church you're confessing again to yourself, to your family, to the people you pass on the way there, to the people who will greet you there, that you don't have it all together, and that you need their support."

It's safe to say that church people routinely distort the truth about many things. Mercifully, God does not strike all of us dead. So why are Ananias and Sapphira singled out for terminal punishment?

There are at least three historical precedents in the Old Testament. When God brought his people out of Egypt, he instituted specific instructions for leading worship. But two men, Nadab and Abihu - the sons of Aaron the high priest - casually decided to ignore them. God struck both of them dead. When Israel was first entering the Promised Land, a man named Achan disobeyed God and kept some of the plunder from the ruins of the city of Jericho. God struck down Achan and his entire family. When David was bringing the Ark of the Covenant up to Jerusalem, and the ark began to slide off an ox cart towards the ground, a man named Uzzah put out his hand to stop it and God struck him down. R.C. Sproul suggests that Uzzah apparently believed his hand was more holy than God's dirt.

What do these jarring events have in common? In each case, a new spiritual era is beginning. In each case, certain people refuse to take God's holiness seriously. In each case, God makes it clear that he will not be trivialized. So it is with Ananias and Sapphira. They become an enduring object lesson for the early church. Look at verse 11: "Great fear seized the whole church and all who heard about these events."

The Bible repeatedly tells us that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. This kind of fear means profound respect. We acknowledge that God, for want of a better word, is dangerous. So is the electricity that comes into my house. If my power goes off because a limb has fallen onto a power line, I would never say to Mary Sue, "I'll take care of it; be back in ten minutes." In all likelihood I would never be back at all. It's not that electricity somehow has it in for me, but I am deeply afraid and respectful of electric current. In the same way we must remain deeply respectful that God is God, and we are not.

It seems a foolish thing for me to be standing here today talking about fearing the Lord, when in fact I so often try to manage God. I've shared before about the time, years ago, when I called upon a man who had been active here at ZPC, but had gradually decided to stop coming. I asked if I had contributed to his departure in any way. There was a long pause. Then he told me something that was hard to hear, and which I have never forgotten. "Glenn, there have been moments in which it seems that you don't take God very seriously."

What did he mean by that, exactly? He went on, "Think about the last time you served me communion." That morning we had invited our worshippers to come forward to receive the bread and the juice. As he walked to the spot where I was holding the cup, I remembered that he was on my list of things to do. I leaned forward and said, "Hey, that meeting on Tuesday night has been rescheduled."

What was I doing? I was multi-tasking. I was using a sacred moment to get a little administrative work done on the side. But God will not be multi-tasked, nor will he be reduced to just an item on my list of things to do today. I had lost my sense of fear and wonder at being in the presence of a God who refuses to be taken for granted.

So what can we do to shape our minds and hearts around the holiness of God? We can remember what we were taught about traffic safety back in elementary school: Stop, Look, and Listen. The first thing we have to do is Stop. God says it himself: "Be still and know that I am God." How very challenging this is in our insanely cluttered worlds, where multitudes of distractions threaten to co-opt every spare second. But as we choose to stop, we discover that God is always present, and is always available to us.

Next we Look. Look at Scripture. God tells us about himself through his own words. The psalms in particular acquaint us with God's nature and God's holiness. You might start by looking at two special blocks of psalms: numbers 92 through 100, and 145 through 150.

Finally, Listen. Turn off your TV or CD player or ipod for longer and longer periods. Cultivate silence. Let God gently speak to you about himself and about your life.

Stop, Look, and Listen: What difference does it make? Because Barnabas knew and respected the awesome nature of God, he made choices that blessed those around him - choices that arose because of his awareness of God's holiness. And we will discover that this God who is entirely serious about his own holiness is also entirely serious about blessing us, if only we will turn our whole hearts toward him.