Who's Next?

Acts 1:15-26
Easter 7
May 12, 2024
William G. Carter

Here is a page out the scrapbook of the early church. The author of the Gospel of Luke uses it to begin his second book. Volume One tells the story of Jesus, from the shepherds at the manger to the angels at the empty tomb. Volume Two picks up where Volume One leaves off, with Jesus going up to heaven and the disciples wondering, “Now what?”

All the razzle-dazzle is over. Crucifixion is over, Easter is in the rear-view mirror, Jesus is out of sight. It’s back to business. They return to the familiar upper room. Mary, his mother, is with them. They pray. They shared meals together, and then Simon Peter banged the table with his goblet and began to speak.

“I know we are all missing Jesus,” he said, “but we are missing more than that. Judas Iscariot leaves behind an empty chair. What he did was terrible, and that sad episode has shaken us all. But it’s time to move on. There’s a verse in Psalm 109 – ‘Let someone take his place of leadership’ (109:8).” The room buzzed; people nodded their heads.

It was the first significant decision before a church that had no visible Lord. So how did they handle it? I’ll tell you how they handled it: they formed a committee.

Oh, I know. Luke says nothing about a committee. Let me assure you: that was an inadvertent omission. I mean, you know they must have formed a committee. They had one hundred twenty voices, each chiming in. That's a lot of advice and confusion. I don’t know how you get a large group of people to agree on anything, especially if they are nominating candidates for office.

So, they handed the work over to a committee, somewhere between verse 22 and verse 23. They appointed eight committee members, gave two ground rules. The first: the nominee must have followed Jesus for at least three years; no fly-by-nighters in their leadership. The second: need a decision by tomorrow morning. So, they put on the coffee pot, elected a moderator, and began their work. From the beginning, there was no small debate. No sooner had they started, and hands shot into the air.

The moderator recognizes member number three. "Yes sir. I've been thinking about this, and we need a young person. When I look around and see how old the apostles are, it bothers me. Look at Matthew, James, and Bartholomew! Each of them has one sandal in the tar pit. It’s time to get the next generation involved. God knows, I'm no spring chicken. That's what I wanted to say."

Member number two. "I'm Bob, from Bethany. I have a bakery. I saw a lot of Jesus that last week. We should pick someone with thick skin. No matter what they do, church leaders always get hammered with criticism. We can't choose someone who takes everything personally."

Member number six. "I beg to differ with Bethany Bob the Baker. Sure, there's criticism, but must we nominate some insensitive fool? Jesus cared for the weak and vulnerable, and so must we. There is no room in the church for someone who bulldozes over other people's feelings. I don’t want a leader like that."

Member number seven. "As usual, I'm the only woman on this committee. Jesus always cared about women. He treated us like real human beings. Mary, Joanna, and the others raised money for his journeys. I think we have an excellent opportunity to take a prophetic stand. Let's elect a woman to be the next apostle! Thank you."

Member number eight. "I'm from here in Jerusalem. I wasn't happy with Jesus' choices either. I want to choose someone to be proud of, someone who can stand before the crowds and preach with a silver tongue. Personally, I'm tired of those foul-mouthed fishermen from Galilee. They are sloppy, smell of tilapia, and have no class."

Member number five. "I've been sitting here listening to all of you rattle on. None of you are facing facts. We should sign up the first sucker we can find. This is a big job we want them to do. The less we tell them, the better. Jesus never told the twelve what they were getting into. Why should we? Let’s be practical. No one is going to take the job if they discover how much it involves. Wake up, people! We are trying to fill a slot."

The committee worked through the night. They argued. They drank coffee. When Peter arrived in the morning, the committee said, “We have two candidates, Joseph Barsabbas with four votes, and Matthias with four votes. The vote is locked. How about if we have thirteen apostles instead of twelve? There is plenty of work to do."

"No,” said Peter, “that can't be. Jesus picked twelve. There are twelve tribes of Israel. Twelve is the number, no more, no less."

The moderator said, “We did what we could. We have two candidates for one position. We are unable to decide. Something else must be done." With that, what follows may be the oddest scene in the entire New Testament. The whole church prays, hands over the whole matter to God. Then Luke says they cast lots and Matthias is chosen.

Wait a second. The nominating committee had worked carefully. They had reviewed every possible option. The lives of two men were at stake. The future of the Jesus Movement was at stake. Yet when the committee reaches a stalemate, the situation is simply tossed into God’s lap. Whatever will be, will be. Is that how the story goes?

Perhaps, but perhaps not. For one thing, the committee did its work. They weren’t looking for anybody. They were looking for a witness to the resurrection of Jesus, searching for someone who knows Christ is alive. It couldn’t be just anybody to fill the empty chair. It had to be the right person.

That’s what our own nominating team has been doing. These days, when we look for an elder or deacon, our nominating team asks first, “What does the church need to get done?” The next question follows logically: “Who would be the best person to do that kind of work?” When they ask those kinds of questions, they begin to sense whom God is calling to the role of leadership. people. And it’s far more satisfying and affirming for the people we ask.

So, the early church gave some prayerful thought about who their leaders could be. It wasn’t sloppy or quick. They didn’t hand off the task to a headhunting firm and say, “Get us an apostle.” No, they looked around the room – who has the ability? Who could do the work? And they came up with two names: Joseph, who some called Barsabbas, and others called Justus; he must have been widely known by a lot of people; and Matthias, about whom we don’t know very much at all.

They came up with two, two possibilities for one position, because it’s generally true that two or more people can do the job that somebody must do. To decide which one, they “cast lots.”

What does that mean? At various times in history, to cast lots was to put several stones in a small cup. The stones would be marked or colored. The cup would be shaken until one of the stones would jump out. It was widely believed this was a fair way to decide, like flipping a quarter and calling heads or tails. As the book of Proverbs said, “Casting the lot puts an end to disputes and decides between powerful contenders” (18:18).

More than that, it leaves the matter in God’s hands. The church has done its part in discerning the right people. Ultimately the final decision is God’s decision – so it is possible to say, the first little stone to pop out of the cup is the stone God selects. So, the church could declare, “The Lord chose Matthias from the two that we carefully selected.”

It is a different way of thinking about decisions than the world does. Imagine if we were to spend more time identifying on who is the best person for the good of the whole group, the leader that God would choose?

How is it that God makes choices untainted by manipulative hands? The story from the early church suggests that the church folks did the upfront work, but they all agreed to hand it over to God. What an amazing thing: a blend of human discernment and Divine selection, if that’s indeed what it is.

I have a friend who grew up as a Mennonite in Lancaster County. She told me her father was chosen as a minister by casting lots. The last minister moved on. The people looked around the church, took notice who was there, who was paying attention to the sermons, who was living the Christian life, and who was available. They saw a few possibilities, took stock of the consensus of the group, wrote the candidates’ names on slips of paper, and placed the slips in a Bible. Sylvia’s father was one of the names written down.

The whole congregation knelt in silent prayer. After a few minutes, the Bible was shaken. The first name to fall out was God's choice as their next minister. It was Sylvia’s father. “I accept this as the will of God,” he said with a shaky voice, and everybody applauded. Then the congregation passed the plate and collected enough money to send him to Bible school, so he would have some idea what he was doing.

Human discernment and Divine decision – that’s what we seek in the Christian church. Last week, I spent some time with a friend from South Carolina. She’s up for election as the moderator of our church’s General Assembly. Someone tapped her on the shoulder and said, “You would be a wonderful leader for us.” He shrugged it off with the usual denials: “I’m not qualified. I’m an African American woman. I’m the associate pastor of a church and my head of staff doesn’t want me gone.”

Yet she prayed about it, while others affirmed her. Finally, she said, “I’ll throw my hat into the ring. Let’s see what God does with this.” The election is about eight weeks away. We’ll see what happens. God is not anxious about it. We can trust God will raise up the right people to lead Christ’s church.

Maybe the selection of Matthias isn’t so unusual after all. He was not picked as one of the original twelve, but he was the next one that God wanted. He didn’t have to campaign to get the position, because he knew the decision wasn’t ultimately up to him. And when he was selected, he did not gloat or boast or strut around like a champion – no, he got to work for the people of God.

You know, there are these moments in our lives, yours and mine, when the stars align, when the angels sing, when the heart is confirmed, and it is as clear as anything is clear that God is ruling over us. There are moments, even seasons, when the work we do feels like the work that God wants to get done. Praise God for when those moments come, because they declare that every one of us has a purpose, that every one of us has something we can do for God and his rule over earth.

As for the other moments, the moments when the vision is foggy, and the way is not clear. Even then, God leads us through. In fact, I’ll never forget one of the best things one of our church members ever said to me. We were talking about leadership and the lights went on in her eyes. And she said, “Rev. Bill, what you’re saying is this: we are the only people that God has to use.” Uh huh, that’s right. We are the ones.

(c) William G. Carter. All rights reserved.