Easter 5
May 15, 2022
Now the apostles and the believers who were in Judea heard that the Gentiles had also accepted the word of God. So when Peter went up to Jerusalem, the circumcised believers criticized him, saying, “Why did you go to uncircumcised men and eat with them?” Then Peter began to explain it to them, step by step, saying, “I was in the city of Joppa praying, and in a trance I saw a vision. There was something like a large sheet coming down from heaven, being lowered by its four corners; and it came close to me. As I looked at it closely I saw four-footed animals, beasts of prey, reptiles, and birds of the air. I also heard a voice saying to me, ‘Get up, Peter; kill and eat.’ But I replied, ‘By no means, Lord; for nothing profane or unclean has ever entered my mouth.’ But a second time the voice answered from heaven, ‘What God has made clean, you must not call profane.’ This happened three times; then everything was pulled up again to heaven. At that very moment three men, sent to me from Caesarea, arrived at the house where we were. The Spirit told me to go with them and not to make a distinction between them and us. These six brothers also accompanied me, and we entered the man’s house. He told us how he had seen the angel standing in his house and saying, ‘Send to Joppa and bring Simon, who is called Peter; he will give you a message by which you and your entire household will be saved.’ And as I began to speak, the Holy Spirit fell upon them just as it had upon us at the beginning. And I remembered the word of the Lord, how he had said, ‘John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.’ If then God gave them the same gift that he gave us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I that I could hinder God?” When they heard this, they were silenced. And they praised God, saying, “Then God has given even to the Gentiles the repentance that leads to life.
Luke is the author of this book, the Acts of the Apostles. He continues the story that began in his Gospel book. What God has begun in the ministry of Jesus is continuing in the work of those who follow Jesus. There is continuity between then and now.
As he tells the story, sometimes he repeats himself. We can expect that. When something important happens, it’s worth telling again. God sends the Holy Spirit to empower the church, and the Spirit keeps coming. As we heard last week, God began the work of converting a young man named Saul, now renamed as Paul, and that conversion is told two more times.
And today, in chapter eleven, we hear the apostle Peter retell the same story of what happened in chapter ten. The details are the same. In fact, this chapter moves along more quickly than the one before it. Yet the issue is the same: who are you going to let into your church?
Not a new issue, but one of the two initial issues for that early circle of believers. You know the first one: what will we do, now that Jesus has gone up into heaven? He died, was raised, and ascended into heaven – now what? That dilemma was answered quickly. He went up and the Spirit came down. There was continuity between what Jesus said and what the Holy Spirit of God inspired the followers of Jesus to say. The Spirit fills the vacancy with the same holy Power. Jesus has gone, we have power to go on.
And the second dilemma, again, has to do with whom we welcome. Whom we include. The first circle of apostles was very disturbed with Peter, Simon Peter. They heard that Gentiles listened to his preaching. How could this be? Jesus was a Jew, all of them were Jews – what do you mean he was preaching to the Gentiles? And not only were they Gentiles – they were Italians! Not only was he preaching to them – he was eating with them. Can you imagine the Great Apostle Peter, the Rock on whom Christ said he would build his church – and he was eating spaghetti?
So Peter tells them the story. It happened around noon. (Remember last week? Paul on the road to Damascus? That happened about noon.) And Peter was up on the roof, the flat roof, praying his mid-day prayers, and getting a little hungry.
About the time he’s ready to say “amen,” he has a vision. Maybe it began with a growling stomach; we don’t know. He saw the heavens opened, and a holy picnic blanket came down. And that blanket, that sheet, was loaded with all kinds of animals: there were birds, beasts, and lizards, eagles, pigs, shellfish, and snakes. Then that Voice – that familiar Voice from heaven – said, “Get up, Simon Peter, kill one of these and eat!” And Peter was horrified.
Why horrified? It’s lunchtime. He’s hungry. But he’s the Jew. That means he’s careful about what he eats. He’s not going to chew on a snake or crunch on a lobster. He’s a Jew. His Bible says all of those animals he saw were ritually unclean. Don’t eat them. That’s what the book of Leviticus says. It doesn’t matter if it’s lunchtime. You don’t eat that stuff if you are a covenant child of Israel. Your Bible tells you this.
And the Voice said, “Go ahead and eat.” This is the Table set before you. This is the Heavenly Banquet floating down as a gift. This is the Joyful Feast given to you by God. “Go ahead and eat.”
Peter says, “Lord, I’ve never put any of that dirty junk in my mouth. I’m trying to be pure here!”
And God says – or is it Jesus who says, “What God has called clean, don’t you call dirty.” And Peter is stunned.
Now this is the book of Acts, and I’m retelling you the story you already heard me read, and because that story in chapter eleven is the same story as chapter ten, it should come as no surprise that Simon Peter sees this vision three times. He hears the Voice three times. And then, just as suddenly, the whole thing’s gone. Vanished.
What is he to make of this? Well, there’s no time to think about it. Just then, downstairs, there’s a knock at the gate. A couple of Italian soldiers stood there and said, “Our army commander has had a vision, telling him to meet with a man named Simon Peter. Is there a Simon Peter here, in the city of Joppa?”
Simon Peter looks up at heaven, looks at them, looks up at heaven, nods his head, says, “OK, I get it. I will go.” Because that Vision of the Heavenly Non-Kosher food still burned in his heart. And he still hears the echo of that Voice, “What God has called clean, don’t you dare call dirty.”
And let me tell you something else, which you might not have noticed. In his Jewish Bible, there is a story of man named Jonah. He’s in the seaside city of Joppa. He has a vision from God to go to the Gentiles, and he doesn’t want to go.
In our text, here
is Simon Bar-Jonah (that’s his given name). He’s in the seaside city of Joppa.
He has a vision from God to go to the Gentiles and otherwise would not want to
go.[1]
It’s the story, the same old story, the same recurring story, the same ongoing
story, namely, who are you going to let into your church? Or temple, or
synagogue, or family.
My teacher Fred Craddock made the connection between the
old story of Jonah and Luke’s reappropriation of it in the story of Simon
Bar-Jonah. And he lived the lesson. As a kid pastor, he landed in a little
church near Oak Ridge, Tennessee. It was an aristocratic bunch, he said, full
of the town fathers and mothers. They liked their cozy fellowship.
Then the town began to change. Oak Ridge was selected for
a national laboratory. They would enrich uranium there. All these other people
moved in to build the facility – bulldozer operators, stone masons, concrete
pourers, day workers. The lab brought in trailer parks. They had noisy kids.
And not only were they laborers – a lot of them were Yankees. Outsiders. Biblically
speaking, Gentiles.
But Rev. Fred said, “This is our mission. God has put
these people on our doorstep. They need the Gospel. They need our church. Let’s
reach out.”
The next board meeting settled the matter. A motion
was made by the brother-in-law of the chair of the board. The motion declared, “We
will accept in our church only those who own property in the county.” The preacher
sputtered and fumed, but the decision was final. As one of them said in the parking
lot after the meeting, “Face it, Craddock, some people just won’t fit in.”
Years later, Fred and his wife were driving through the region, when he decided to take her over and show her the scene of his early failures. It took a while to find the church. The area was booming. But there it was, nestled in the pines, with a big sign out front, “BARBEQUE – Chicken – Ribs – Pork – All You Can Eat.” Fred looked at her, she looked at him. He said, “Well, it’s about noon. Let’s get something to eat.”
The place is just jammed: Italians, Yankees, Gentiles, Parthians, Medes, Elamites, Gay and Straight, Red and Blue, Old and Young, Right and Left and None of the Above. Fred couldn’t believe it. He said to his wife, “It’s a good thing this place is no longer a church, because most of these people wouldn’t fit in.”
And the other called Simon Peter back to Jerusalem, dressed him down, and said, “We heard you were eating with those people.” So he had to tell them the story, tell them what he saw in the vision, then tell them what the Voice repeated: What God has called clean, don’t you dare call dirty.
For it was clear to him that God was pushing and shoving the church beyond its own boundaries. He presumed to know where the circle was, surrounding the true believers and keeping out the infidels. He did not expect God was smashing the wall and bringing others in.
Now, I know this is hard for some of us. Where do you draw the line? Well, you don’t. If there’s a line, it’s a dotted line, at best. But at the center of it all is the grace and love of Jesus Christ. We are not defined by the boundary around us, but by the Christ who welcomes all.
I was reminded by a friend who took a church group to
the Holy Land. They visited the West Bank, went to a Catholic school that was
directed by a Palestinian priest. Over half of the students were Muslim for the
simple reason that this was the best school in town. As the priest led the
tour, he talked about the required religion classes and chapel services in
which all the students took part. “They love to receive the sacrament of
communion,” he said.
Someone in the group said, “Isn’t it dangerous for
Muslims to become Christian? Aren’t their parents upset?” The priest’s face was
filled with horror. He said, “Oh no, no, no. I don’t want the Muslim children
to become Christian. But I do want them to know Jesus died for their sins, that
they are forgiven, and loved by God. I want them to be filled with the Holy
Spirit and to receive the means of grace. But I would never want them to become
Christians.”
Well, imagine that. Grace circling around, with Jesus in the center. And somewhere, some Muslim children are growing up to believe that Christians are gracious.[2]
Now, I know, I
know. This is a lot to chew. It’s hard to be pushed beyond our comfort zone,
particularly to people who are not like us. Yet just then, the Voice above
asks, “If they are not like you, who are you like? Are you like me, gracious
and welcoming like me, or are you merely like yourselves?” That’s a good
question.
What I know is that God’s future is inclusion. That’s where the Gospel has been headed since the beginning. All shall be welcome. That’s the future that God sets before us. I guess you don’t have to be part of that. But after seeing the extreme effort that Jesus has undertaken to welcome all of us, is it really all that difficult to welcome somebody else? It is his grace, after all. It’s all his grace. And he stands in the center, arms outstretched.
[1] Thanks to Fred Craddock, who made
this connection in one of his lectures.
[2] Thanks to Craig Barnes, who told his story in the sermon, “Who Is Your Gentile?”
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