Last weekend, Kathy and I had the opportunity to provide some leadership for a retreat focused on the Apha program of our church. For those unfamiliar with Alpha, it is an introduction to the Christian faith that originated in the church of England at a congregation called Holy Trinity-Brompton. Over the past many years, it has become a worldwide phenomenon, and many churches use it to disciple people into the Christian faith.

One thing that I like about Alpha is the format of the program. Over 12 weeks or so, the group meets weekly to have dinner together, listen to a video, talk together at a small table, share questions, and eventually pray. Just before the program is over, there is a weekend retreat in which the primary subject is the Holy Spirit. It is an opportunity for people to get away from their day-to-day lives and experience God in a new and different way.

The program’s structure is a contemporary embodiment of the description of the first Christians in Jerusalem after Pentecost:

They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and prayer. Everyone was filled with awe at the many wonders and signs performed by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need. Every day, they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the people’s favor. And the Lord added to their number daily those being saved (Acts 2:42-46).

Our local church was willing to underwrite the weekend, so we had people from various socioeconomic groups, races, creeds, and ethnicities. We had people from independent Bible church backgrounds, charismatic, Presbyterian Church backgrounds, and more. We had people who were part of a new church development and the oldest congregation in San Antonio. We had people who were part of an intercity ministry for youth, including some youth. It was a wonderfully diverse group of Christians and seekers.

Community as Opposed to Individualism

On Friday night, not everyone was in attendance, so we were able to sit around and talk with people with him we would ordinarily not be paired. It was a wonderful experience! One of those in attendance had read my book Crisis of Discipleship. [1] In the group, he asked: “I know that you discussed the barriers to Christian faith in America, but what do you think is the most significant barrier?” It took me a moment to answer.

Those who read Crisis of Discipleship know that I analyzed our culture and some of the things that make it difficult for the Christian faith to penetrate contemporary society. I am also against the simplistic reduction of complex phenomena to simple solutions. In response to the question, I chose to say that the fundamental issue is our implicit materialism. Most people live based on an outdated idea of what the world is like. We automatically think of the world in terms of physical bodies and forces acting upon those bodies. We automatically think that we are one of the bodies and should participate in carefully managing the forces upon us. The search for affluence, money, power, pleasure, and individual security is almost automatic in such a society.

Those who have read Crisis of Discipleship know that another factor plays a significant role in the problem of Christian discipleship in contemporary America: our excessive individualism. The church is a community of believers. Evangelism and discipleship are essential activities of the entire body of Christ as it lives out its witness to Christ and God in whatever place it exists. In other words, evangelism is not individualistic. It is essentially communitarian. It is an activity of the entire Body of Christ.

The Mission of Christ as a Mission of the Church

Furthermore, the Mission of God, sometimes called “Missio Dei” in Latin, is not the business of specialized people or groups. It’s an activity in which the entire church should be involved merely because of its existence. Contemporary churches talk a lot about missions, forgetting that the first and primary mission is given to us in the Great Commission. We are to go into all the world and make disciples (Matthew 28:16). This is God’s mission to his people.

Everything else we do, such as education, medical care, providing clean water, building churches, and supporting colleges and universities, is simply part of the church’s mission to share God’s love with others and bring the entire world into fellowship with the Living God. No one person can do this alone; it’s the activity of the whole church.

The great missiologist Lesslie Newbiggin once observed that a church without a mission is not a church. [2] It is a statement about the condition of the American church, that so many people found this statement revolutionary. It wasn’t revolutionary in the least. Newbigin simply stated what the church was intended to be by Christ has been through the centuries and will be in the future.

The Importance of the Local Congregation

If the primary mission of the church is to share the good news of Jesus Christ and the coming of God’s kingdom into the world and make disciples who are members of that kingdom, and if that commission is to be carried out in community, then the local church gains a new and central importance in the mission of God. The church is not an accidental collection of people. It’s not a social organization, like the PTA, formed for a particular purpose. It is not merely a place where people meet to hear a nice talk and listen to the music of their choice. It is the living embodiment of Christ and his kingdom amid the world. The church is not incidental to the proclamation of the gospel. It is central. It is that manifestation of the kingdom of God into which people are brought to live out their lives in community with others.

Copyright 2024, G. Christopher Scruggs, All Rights Reserved

[1] G. Christopher Scruggs, Crisis of Discipleship: Renewing the Art of Relational Disciple-Making Rev, Ed. (Richmond, VA: Living Dialogue Ministries, 2024).

[2] Lesslie Newbigin, The Open Secret: An Introduction to the Theology of Mission Rev. Ed. (Grand Rapids, Mi: William B. Eerdmans, 1978, 19950, 2.

Every once in a while, the people who help me publish books remind me that I am a terrible marketer! Since I have two books out this year in different genres and am trying to finish a third, this blog is a natural transition from the apostle Paul. As I pointed out several times, the apostle Paul was not a lone ranger. He was brought into ministry by Barnabas. He ministered with many people, including Barnabas, Silas, Luke, Timothy, and others. In other words, Paul modeled a communitarian approach to ministry.

Crisis of Discipleship and Betsy Shaw

When I wrote Crisis of Discipleship: Renewing the Art of Relational Disciple-Making, I had in mind renewing the art of making disciples in relationships, not just with those being discipled but as part of a community dedicated to the Great Commission. [1] I believe it is necessary in our day and age to renew the art of making disciples in small groups, including churches, Bible studies, prayer groups, discipleship groups, and other vehicles.

This weekend, I had the opportunity to return to my former church, Advent Presbyterian Church, in Cordova, Tennessee, for the funeral of a longtime colleague, Betsy Shaw. In some ways, Dave Schieber, who founded the church, and Betsy Shaw, who worked with the youth for many years and was the Director of Christian Education, exemplified the strategy I urge people to adopt. In doing this, they also made Advent an enjoyable place to be, worship, grow in Christ, and share the gospel with others. They created a dynamic, fun, and gospel-centered community where people could come and grow in Christ, bringing their families and friends. In all this, both of them sweetly, non-judgementally, and powerfully shared God’s love with others.

Dave and Betsy would not presume to say, nor would I presume to say, that Advent was the perfect church. It wasn’t. We had our problems, made our mistakes, and faced challenges with greater and lesser degrees of success. Nevertheless, there was a commitment to discipling people from when they joined the church, formed families, or otherwise entered our sphere of influence.

From its very beginning, Advent had a Wednesday evening, family-centered program. It was directed towards children, but children’s ministry was not the only focus. When the church grew large enough, it had a youth group, which, in time, was quite large. That youth group was an important part of the church because it ministered to the entire church in many ways, most notably by participating at a very high level of involvement every year in vacation Bible school.

When I say that Advent was oriented toward discipling families, I don’t want to suggest that singles were left out. We had many single parents. Those single parents knew the pastors and staff were dedicated to helping them raise their children. In addition, they knew that at least once a week, they could come to church, have a family meal together, allow the children to have a program, and go to a Bible study or hang out with friends until the program was complete.

In time, we would have over 100 youth and children in the building every Wednesday night, which required many volunteers. Betsy Shaw was the person who made sure we had enough volunteers. She also had the opportunity to support those volunteers, write them notes of appreciation, provide them with an annual dinner, and provide time off because the program did not run 12 months a year. She was also very good at supplying Sunday school teachers, youth, volunteers, and others with time off each year so that they would not burn out. It was an enormous task.

When I spoke at Betsy’s funeral, I pointed out that she knew every family in the church: the children, most of the grandchildren, and many cousins and other extended family members. She shared God’s love with everyone she met—and specifically with everyone in our congregation. There was hardly a question that one could ask about any facet of the church’s life involving any person in the church to which Betsy could not give wise advice. In addition, she worked very hard to be sure that the programs she supervised were fun and made disciples. Dave Schieber, the founder of the church, worked just as hard. In the end, for all of the faults we knew we had in our church and its programming, people sensed that the pastors and staff loved them, loved their children and grandchildren, and wanted to do their best to help them flourish in a problematic society.

Advent decided they needed a more advanced adult disciple-making program when I joined the group. Therefore, we developed a series of 34-week Bible studies going through the entire Bible and specific sections in detail. We also had a Bible study that studied the Bible by Christian doctrines so that our members could, if they desired, learn just a little about theology and how it affects Christian life.

These studies involved reading privately during the week, praying a prayer list, and coming together for a social time where we would pray, share, have a meal, and review the week’s study. In other words, the entire adult discipleship program was built around the same features we see operating in the New Testament. Most specifically, the following verses guided our structure:

 They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, fellowship, the breaking of bread, and prayer. Everyone was awed by the many wonders and signs performed by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need. Every day, they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the people’s favor. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved (Acts 2:42-47).

Salt & Light

Just about the time I retired, we began to feel that the programming we had relied on for so long was no longer adequate for a new generation. Therefore, we begin to study how to reach a new generation. Out of that study and trial and error, we created what we called Salt & Light: Everyday Discipleship, a leadership development program designed for more traditional churches undertaking to be structured along the lines of churches with a robust Disciple Making Ministry program. [2] Out of this particular study, which I used at another church, I began to write the book Crisis of Discipleship, setting out general principles instead of a specific program. No two churches are exactly alike; therefore, no two churches can have the same disciple-making program. In Crisis of Discipleship, I was trying to set out some applicable general principles, no matter what kind of church you’re in, its theology, and its size.

C. S. Lewis, J. R. R. Tolkien, and Developing a  Classical WorldView

One of the difficulties pastors and local congregations face today is our culture’s resistance to the Christian faith and especially to Christian discipleship. Before I became a Christian, I read a few books by C. S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien. I was particularly fascinated by Lewis’s Space Trilogy and Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings trilogy.

Some people would describe what Lewis and Tolkien were doing as “pre-evangelism.” I often tell people that reading C.S. Lewis did not make me a Christian, but he did open up my mind to the possibility that the Christian faith might be true. It took a community of believers in Houston, Texas, and a small group Bible study to bring me to Christ. Nevertheless, Lewis and Tolkien played a vital role in my coming to Christ and early Christian discipleship. I became a believer in 1977 and 1979. I had probably read every book that either Lewis or Tolkien (and several of their friends) had written. Lewis and Tolkien were members of the Inklings, one of which was an author named Charles Williams, who wrote what he called “Spiritual Thrillers.” I have enjoyed reading Williams’ novels over the years, and he was one of the inspirations for my own novels.

Marshland and Peace at Battle Mountain

When I retired, I decided that it would be a good idea if I tried to write a novel. I’d wanted to write a novel for years but never had the time. In retirement, I had the time. Therefore, I sat down one cold winter day and began riding the book that became Marshland. By the time I finished Marshland, I was pretty sure it was the first book of an eventual trilogy, the second of which has just been published, Peace at Battle Mountain.  [3] I plan on beginning the last of the novels on a cold January morning next year.

Each book deals with a spiritual battle. The first examines whether there are spiritual realities, which, in a way, is about faith. The second, Peace at Battle Mountain, asks, “Why do humans have so much trouble creating and sustaining healthy relationships? Why do we find it so hard to love other people selfishly?”

However, these are not traditional Christian books by any means. Each novel involves an economic crime, one or more murders, and characters struggling to make sense of their lives. I have been careful not to follow the simple formula: “A wounded person comes to Christ, and everything is fine.”

People like to read murder mysteries, including mafiosos, spies, greedy, business people, and other exciting characters. My first career was as a corporate lawyer. It’s fun to look at economic crises and the type of misbehavior that causes them. But, most importantly, people struggle to make sense of their lives.

In Marshland and Peace at Battle Mountain, I’m encouraging people to ponder whether or not a more Christian view of life would help them muddle through life. In the process, I’m trying to entertain people with a thriller. I’m not trying to be preachy, and I’m staying open to the value of other world religions and faith systems. But in the end, some of the characters are Christians.

Conclusion

I’m unsure exactly where the series of blogs is going in the next few months. To meet my obligations to those who have helped me write these books, I need to spend some time talking about them and why they were written. On the other hand, I will publish another book about political philosophy before the end of the year. I want to talk a little about our Constitution and a fundamental way of looking at it in this postmodern era. I hope these blogs and books help people understand our culture and life wisely and lovingly in these troubled times.

Copyright 2024, G. Christopher Scruggs, All Rights Reserved

[1] G. Christopher Scruggs, Crisis of Discipleship: Renewing the Art of Relational Disciple-Making Rev, Ed. (Richmond, VA: Living Dialogue Ministries, 2024).

[2] G. Christopher and Kathy T. Scruggs, Salt & Light: Everyday Discipleship (Collierville, TN: Innovo, 2017).

[3] Alystair West, Marshland (Bloomington, IN: Westbow 2023) & Peace at Battle Mountain (Hunt, Texas: Quansus Publishing, 2014). Marshland and Peace at Battle Mountain are written under the penname “Alystair West.”

Paul began his final journey after his arrest and trials in the holy land. As Luke describes the situation, Paul was under house arrest for some time as these trials unfolded. Part of the reason he was under house arrest was to keep him safe. Eventually, Paul was able to make his defense, which Luke describes as conclusive, but was not released because he had appealed to Caesar. This resulted in Paul finally being able to make his long-awaited journey to Rome.

This week, we’ll examine the final journey and how Paul’s story ends in Acts.

A Long Voyage

As Paul was under arrest, he needed to be transported to Rome under supervision. The Centurion Julius and members of the Augustine Regiment, of which he was commander, were charged with seeing that he safely arrived in Rome and was presented before the emperor (Acts 27:1). Eventually, Paul, other prisoners, his traveling, committed companions (Luke) and another brother Aristarchus from Thessalonica set sail on their journey to Rome (v. 2).

In those days, sailing vessels were small, and it was in the best interest of the safety of the passengers to stay as close to shore as possible. This was especially true in this case because the winds were contrary. They traveled north up the coast of the Mediterranean Sea until they got to Sidon, which is part of modern Lebanon. For those who keep track of current events, Sidon is not far from the Litani River and the scene of current military operations by Israel in the Middle East. At Sidon, Paul was allowed to visit with friends (v. 3).

Leaving Sidon, they sailed east of Cyprus so that the island’s mountainous terrain would shield them from the contrary wins. From there, they sailed further north until they came to Mira. There, they transferred to a larger vessel, more seaworthy, for the long trip to Rome (v.6). setting sail again, they fought country wins until they could sell south of the island of Crete near Salome (v. 7). Eventually, they came to Fair Havens (v. 8). In Fair Havens, they encountered difficulty. Paul and his companions had left on their journey late in the year, and by the time they arrived in Fairhaven, it was beyond the regular sailing season in the Mediterranean Sea during that time. There was, therefore, a grave danger that if they continued from there, the ship would be lost. Paul advised that they stay in Fair Haven (v. 10).

Julius was of a different mind. He was anxious to get the ship to Rome and complete the task which he had undertaken. In any case, the harbor at Fair Havens was unsuitable for the entire winter, so the ship set sail, hoping to reach Phoenix Harbor in Crete, which was much safer (vv. 11-12). Unfortunately, the favorable wins soon gave way to a severe storm, what we would call a “North Easter.” The ship was caught in the storm and could not possibly make its way into the wind (v. 14-15). From that point on, Paul and his companions were in grave danger. They had to run cables around the ship to keep it from being crushed by the heavy seas (v. 17). They were required to throw overboard part of the boat’s cargo (v. 18). Eventually, they had to through overboard the sales and tackle of the ship (v. 19). They were now at the mercy of the sea. The seas were so heavy that the crew and passengers could not eat for many days (v. 21).

Finally, Paul told them they must eat because they needed their strength for what was to come. In this speech, Paul revealed to the sailors that God had spoken to him amid the storm (v. 23). He told them that the God he serves sent an angel to tell him not to be afraid, for he would be brought before Caesar for trial, and those with him would be saved. He advised everyone on board to take heart because God assured Paul they would not die (v. 25). Finally, Paul prophesied that everyone with him would be safe (v. 24).

After fourteen days of misery, everyone began losing hope (v. 27-28). The ship could not be steered and ran in great danger of running upon the rocks  (v. 29). The sailors eventually decided to desert the ship, leaving the passengers to their fate (v. 30). Paul told the Centurion to cut away the ropes that attached the small skiff to the boat so that this could not happen (31-32). Once again, Paul urged everyone to take some food to strengthen them for the final ordeal ( v. 34).

In a manner resembling Jesus’ last words, he took bread, thanked God, and began eating in their presence. Everyone felt encouraged by Paul’s symbolic act (v. 35-36). Once again, they lightened the ship, throwing out what remained of its cargo (v. 38). At daybreak, they could see a small beach. Running out the anchors to create drag, they slowed the ship until it ran into the ground (vv. 39-40).

At this point, Julius was faced with his obligation to put the prisoners to death so that they would not escape. This would have followed Roman custom, and his soldiers urged Julius to do precisely that (v. 42). However, Julius wanted to keep Paul safe if possible (v. 43). Therefore, he let everyone swim ashore. As Paul had predicted, everyone was saved (v. 44).

A Miracle on Malta

The island upon which they had landed was the island of Malta (28:1). Once the tired men arrived at the shore, cold and wet, they canceled the fire to shelter them against the winter cold (v. 2). As Paul went to collect some sticks, a snake came out of the fire because of the heat and bit him (v. 3). It was poisonous. The natives saw this happen and thought that Paul would certainly die because he was a murderer (v. 4). He did not. Therefore, they concluded he must be a god! (v. 6). This is a pretty good indication of human fickleness. Paul went from being a murderer to a god in a matter of seconds.

This particular incident is recounted in the edited version of the end of Mark, where the author explains that snakes may bite believers and still live. Mark concludes as follows:

He told them, “Go into all the world and preach the gospel to all creation. Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved, but whoever does not believe will be condemned. And these signs will accompany those who believe: In my Name, they will drive out demons; they will speak in new tongues; they will pick up snakes with their hands; and when they drink deadly poison, it will not hurt them at all; they will place their hands on sick people, and they will get well.” (Mark 16:15-18)

Contrary to those who believe this is a prescription for current worship behavior, I think this reflects what has already transpired in the past. It’s not an invitation to deliberately be bitten by a snake. It is an indication that if snakes bite us while on God’s business, God can frequently be trusted to save us. This indicates that God will provide signs of his presence at every point in human history. If the enemies of God try to harm believers, they can expect a certain amount of protection. In addition, this protection is designed to see that the gospel reaches the ends of the earth.

After a while, a prominent local citizen named Publius took the little, ragged band of survivors into his home (v. 7). Publius’s father was sick with fever and dysentery. Paul, praying for him and laying on hands, was able to heal him (v. 8). Having seen this sign of Paul’s relationship with God, many people brought those with diseases to the apostle for the laying on of hands and prayer (v. 9). All this, was a sign that God was with Paul and had enabled him to do the same kind of signs and wonders that characterized Jesus himself. This is the last instance of a central theme of Acts: The apostles were commissioned with God’s power and could do what Jesus himself had done.

After three months, a ship arrived from Alexandria with a figurehead of the twin brothers, Castor and Pollux. Having wintered in Malta, the group prepared to go to Rome (v. 11). They sailed and landed at Syracuse, where they stayed for three days. From there, they ended up in the port of Puteoli (v. 13). There, they found some Christians and were invited to stay for seven days, and then they departed from Rome (v. 14). The citizens of Rome had heard of Paul’s arrival, and so they sent out a welcoming party to meet them. When Paul saw them, he was encouraged that everything would be fine.

When the group finally arrived in Rome, Julius, the Centurion, had completed his task. He delivered Paul to the captain of the guard, where Paul was placed again under house arrest. Three days later, the brothers and sisters of the church in Rome came to visit Paul. At this point, Luke recounts for a final time his defense of Paul’s ministry:

“My brothers, although I have done nothing against our people or against the customs of our ancestors, I was arrested in Jerusalem and handed over to the Romans. They examined me and wanted to release me because I was not guilty of any crime deserving of death.  The Jews objected, so I was compelled to appeal to Caesar. I certainly did not intend to bring any charge against my own people. For this reason, I have asked to see you and talk with you. I am bound with this chain because of the hope of Israel.” (Acts 28:17-20).

This particular provision resembles the defense we discussed last week. It supports the view that one of Luke’s primary intentions in writing  Acts was to defend Paul and his ministry.

Eventually, Paul was able to inhabit some lodges in the city of Rome. Then, he continued his apostolic ministry. The final part of Acts reveals Paul as teaching about the kingdom of God, the consistency of the ministry of Jesus with the law of Moses and the prophets, and the Messi ship of Jesus. As everywhere else, not everyone believed the apostle’s words. Some Jews rejected Paul and departed (v. 25). Luke sees this as a fulfillment of the prophecies of Isaiah that the Jews would hear and not perceive, that they would see and not understand the Messiah (vv. 26-27). Having ministered in Rome in precisely the same manner as Paul ministered everywhere else, he then began to teach Gentiles about Jesus. The final words are that no one, implicitly no authority in Rome, took any action against him. Neither should Caesar (v.31).

Conclusion

To some readers, the book of Acts ends abruptly, as if it is incomplete. We are simply told that Paul lived in Rome for two years at his own expense, welcomed people into his home, proclaimed the kingdom of God, and was not hindered in his ministry (vv. 30-31). Interestingly, we are not given a rendition of what happened when Paul appeared before Caesar. We are not told about the death of the apostle. Most of the questions that we would typically have are not answered. Why is this so?

Scholars ponder two different explanations. First, it’s possible that Paul was released without a trial before Caesar because it was felt unnecessary. Those who follow this way of thinking believe that Paul was released, continued his ministry, traveled west as far as return to Rome, was arrested, and then put to death. The second possibility is that this particular imprisonment ended with the apostle’s death, which, for some reason, Luke did not want to recount. A final possibility is that having written two books, Luke and Acts, each of which is about one scroll length, Luke reached the end of his capacity to record the actions of Paul and the other apostles. Perhaps there was some interruption that made it impossible for him to complete the book in the way he originally planned. I find the third explanation unconvincing.

This summer, Kathy and I were on a trip with some people from the Moody Bible Institute. Their take was that Paul was released, did continue his ministry as far as Spain, returned to Rome, and was arrested during the rain of the emperor Nero. At that point, he was put to death.

From a spiritual point of view, the ending is entirely satisfactory. The ministry of Jesus was continued by the apostles, including the apostle Paul. The work of the Holy Spirit was not finished when Jesus was crucified, died, resurrected, and ascended into heaven. It continued in the early church. It is also not over when Paul is arrested or when Paul dies. It continued then as it continues today. The book ends with the continuation of the ministry of Jesus. Perhaps that’s the way we ought to think of our own lives. The Work of Jesus continues today in us as we create little communities of wisdom and love.

Sometimes, even our most well-intentioned actions have negative consequences. Leaders often make decisions in good conscience but without a complete understanding of the costs of their choices. Usually, leaders are given good advice, which has unforeseen results. Stress, failure, opposition, and other negative experiences are part of the life of every human being and every Christian leader.

We began the prelude to Paul’s eventual trip to Rome two weeks ago. He had been warned that his travel to Jerusalem would result in danger, and those who prophesied from the danger were correct. Almost immediately upon his arrival and travel to the temple in Jerusalem, he is recognized and provokes a violent response. Paul’s defense of his ministry in the Temple courts provoked a riot so severe that the Roman legionnaire in charge felt it necessary to intervene (Acts 22). Paul went to the temple to obey the suggestions of the Christian church leaders in Jerusalem. He was trying to do the right thing. However, the consequences were not what anyone had anticipated. However, he was able to defend his ministry. Even that did not go well.

The Religious Nature of the Conflict between Paul and the Jewish Leaders

Near the end of his address to the crowd, Paul brings up the resurrection, which the Pharisees believed in, but the Sadducees did not. This provoked an additional conflict. Remembering that Luke probably wrote hacks partially as a defense of Paul, a defense that would be presented in Rome, this little vignette gives us an insight into one line of defense that Paul had against the charges against him. The Roman Empire allowed much religious diversity, and Roman governors did not interject themselves into disputes between religious sects. They were especially familiar with the violent disagreement among the Jews about religious matters, including the resurrection. By adding this vignette, Luke provides a defense for Paul in front of the emperor: the charges brought against Paul by the Jews were simply matters of religious dispute among Jews and not a matter of Roman law or threats to the Roman state.

The text indicates that Luke is defending Paul before the Roman Emperor. While he was under arrest in Jerusalem, the Lord Jesus appeared to him, saying, “Take courage! As you have testified about me in Jerusalem, so you must also testify in Rome” (Acts 23:11). Neither Paul nor Luke felt that Paul’s imprisonment and trial in Rome were in any way unusual; they were part of God’s plan.

Transfer to Caesarea

Paul’s appearance at the temple provokes not just a violent response of immediate anger but also a conspiracy to put Paul to death (23:15). The potential for religious beliefs to result in violence is not only an ancient phenomenon. Sadly, for all religious groups, the existence of religious violence and religiously motivated violence is, for most people, a strong argument against the value of religion. The response of a small number of Jewish people is a reminder to all of us that there is a limit to what should be done to defend one’s religious beliefs. In the case of Christians, the fact that God is love and does not desire anyone to suffer violence adds additional emphasis to the importance of respecting other peoples, religious beliefs, and their right to disagree with ours.

Fortunately, a relative of Paul became aware of the plot against Paul’s life (v. 16). When Paul learned of the plot, he informed the centurion, who made arrangements for Paul to be transferred to Caesarea, where Governor Felix had his headquarters (v. 19-23). To fully inform the governor, the officer sent Paul a letter informing him of the situation and his handling of the problem (vv. 25-30). Thus, another step is taken, bringing Paul closer to his goal of eventually visiting Rome.

Trial before Felix

Five days after Paul was taken to Caesarea, the High Priest, the elders, and their lawyer came down from Jerusalem to give evidence against Paul (24:1). Tertulius, their lawyer, accused Paul of being a troublemaker and a desecrator of the temple (vv. 2-9). Paul, who had heard of Felix, was more than willing to give his defense. It began by explaining that he had only been in Israel for a brief time. He admitted that he was a follower of the way who worshiped the God of Israel, believed in all things taught in the law and the prophets, but who believed that Jesus was the foretold Messiah and the fulfillment of the Jewish Hope of a resurrection from the dead (vv. 9-14).

Paul went out to explain that he had been absent from Israel and Jerusalem for some time. He, therefore, came to bring arms and offerings for the people of Israel. While there, he had been in the Temple courts purifying himself. He was not with a mob of people but only a few colleagues (vv. 17-21).

At this point, Paul made an important statement for his defense. He claimed he had done nothing wrong and said nothing that caused anyone any trouble except perhaps one statement: his belief in the resurrection of the dead of Jesus Christ. This was an extremely wise move on Paul’s part. The Pharisees believed in a resurrection, while the Sadducees did not. In addition, Roman law gave a great deal of freedom to religious beliefs. This was particularly true for the Jewish people because the Romans were well aware of their tendency to engage in disputes that could become violent. It was Roman policy not to interfere with private religious conflicts. Paul’s statement was designed to show that this was his case. All of the trouble that had been caused in the temple was not because of any revolutionary act by Paul or any failure to abide by Roman or even Jewish law but only because of a religious belief (v. 21).

At this point, Felix seems to have seen a way out of the predicament. He immediately called a halt to the proceedings and delayed the hearing. In other words, Felix was not only buying for time but also giving Paul a chance to prove his allegations were true. Also, it’s possible that he was hoping that Paul would give him some kind of a bribe to rule in his favor, which he was probably inclined to do in any case (v. 26). As a point of history, Felix did have a bad reputation for minor corruption of a financial nature. Whatever the case, Paul was left in house arrest for two years (v. v. 27).

Those two years of enforced solitude and inactivity were stressful for Paul. Nevertheless, it’s very possible that there was a positive side to the delay. Many scholars think it was during this period that Luke did the research that would ultimately result in the gospel of Luke. For example, during this time, he may have interviewed Mary and others and gathered the information he needed for the birth narratives of the story. Perhaps during this time, he had a chance to look at collections of the sayings of Jesus and begin to outline his ideas about the book he intended to write.

This is a reminder to all of us that sometimes delay, and even long delay can be a positive experience in God’s providence. We may want to undertake a new task, begin a new ministry, or start a new career. All these things may take study, planning, and quiet solitude to bring to fruition. God sometimes brings space into our lives amid trouble so we might grow and develop the capacities needed to undertake the next chapter of our lives.

Paul’s Defense before Festus

Eventually, Felix was replaced by Festus, and it was time to take care of delayed business. Once again, the High Priest and those who wanted to accuse Paul came before the governor and asked that Paul be brought to trial (25:1-2). It so happened that Festus was about to go to Caesarea and suggested that the trial be held there. He may also have been concerned about Paul’s safety, having heard the rumors of attempts on his life. It was that Paul was brought before the new governor. Once again, Paul’s defense is essentially that he has not done anything to violate the law of the Jews, Temple laws, or Roman law (v. 8-9).

Festus, trying to get off on a good start with the Jewish people, asked Paul whether or not he would be willing to go to Jerusalem to stand trial. It was here that Paul played another legal card. He insisted that he tried in Caesarea and appealed to Caesar. Paul was a Roman citizen. Therefore, he had the right to demand a trial before Caesar, and Festus was obligated to grant that request. Whatever happened next, Paul would get a chance to visit Rome – which was his intention all along. In all this, we see both God’s Providence and the apostle’s shrewdness.

Festus recognized that he had a way out. Therefore, he tells Paul, “To Caesar, you have appealed to Caesar, you will go” (v. 12). In a way, all that transpires after this before Paul gets to Rome is commentary because Paul has assured himself that he will get to Rome and be able to defend the Christian faith before the supreme ruler of the Roman Empire. Before another word is said, Paul has actually won.

Nevertheless, Paul has another opportunity to share his testimony. After a while, King Agrippa and his wife, Bernice, visited the new Roman governor. This gave Festus a chance to allow Agrippa, who, after all, was able to understand the religious complexities of the Jewish faith. King Agrippa knew all about Paul and wanted to hear what the apostle had to say. As an aside, Festus notifies Agrippa that he doesn’t think that Paul has done anything to violate Roman law (v. 25). This, Festus believes, creates a problem. It was customary to send a list of charges against someone being transmitted to Rome for trial before Caesar. Festus doesn’t know what to say in this case because he doesn’t see that Paul has committed any crime.

At this point, it might be important to ponder Luke’s motives in including this scene in his narrative. Once again, some scholars believe that the book of Acts is essentially a defense of the apostle Paul. In particular, specific portions may have been written as part of an outline of defense that Paul intended to be made before Caesar. The statement, repeated more than once, that the Roman authorities involved were unclear that Paul had done anything that might be wrong could be put before Caesar as evidence that Paul should be released.

We’re jumping ahead, but many scholars believe that Caesar released Paul, continued his ministry to Spain, returned to Rome, and then was arrested for the final time. This would explain why Acts ends the way it does and why Paul may have had an opportunity to continue his ministry after his arrest in Jerusalem. The Roman authorities involved didn’t think he had done anything wrong. As a practical matter, most likely, Caesar would have followed the advice of his lieutenants unless he felt, for some reason, that they had made a mistake. The book of Acts seems to have been written partially to prove that those who felt Paul had done nothing wrong, or at least nothing violating Roman law, or correct.

Paul’s Defense

Some weeks ago, I wrote a blog outlining the spiritual meeting of Paul’s defense and how it shows how we might defend our faith in our day. In this particular blog, I want to take another tack. What’s evident in the narrative is that when Paul describes what he has been doing, he tries to convince Festus and Agrippa that they should become Christians! At one point, Agrippa responds to Paul, “You almost convince me to become a Christian!” (26: 28).

Paul responds that he does wish that Agrippa would become a Christian (v. 29). Immediately after these explanations, Agrippa and Festus agree that Paul has done nothing deserving death or imprisonment (v. 31). In fact, if Paul had not appealed to Cesar, they would have released him 9v. 32). Once again, here we have Roman authorities and the Jewish authority over the people of Jerusalem, agreeing together that Paul has done nothing wrong. The agreement between the Roman governor and the Jewish king was that under neither Roman nor Jewish law, Paul was guilty of a crime. This is a solid defense.

What was the content of Paul’s defense? Paul began by giving Festus and Agrippa a brief history of his life. The point of this part of the discussion is that Paul had been a religious Jew all his life. He had been a Pharisee of the strictest sect. Pharisees believe in the resurrection of the dead, and Paul had been a Pharisee who believed in the resurrection of the dead. He did not, however, believe that Jesus was the source of resurrection. Therefore, he persecuted the Christians. He went to such extremes that he persecuted the Christians in Damascus.

In other words, Paul’s description of himself is not very different from his accusers. Like them, he was a Jew. Like them, he was deeply religious. Like the Pharisees, he obeys the law strictly. Like them, he rejected Christ. He then recounts that he had been confronted with a vision of the risen Christ on the road to Damascus. Christ had admonished him about persecuting Christians because in persecuting Christians, he was persecuting the risen Messiah. Christ appeared to Paul because he might become an apostle and messenger of the Christian faith.

In other words, at the beginning of his defense, Paul agrees with the arresting officer, Felix, Festus, and Agrippa, that Paul has done nothing wrong that would involve Roman law. His difficulties with the Jewish authorities are not a dispute about Roman or Jewish law but a disagreement about whether or not the resurrection of the dead is a valid doctrine and whether or not Jesus of Nazareth was the fulfillment of the resurrection hope of the Jewish people. If Paul was correct (and he was), Paul had done nothing wrong under Roman law.

Conclusion

Next week, I hope to conclude this little series of blogs. I’ve tried to show this week that the book of  Acts is not simply dictated off the top of Dr. Luke’s head with no purpose in mind. In fact, throughout the book, it has been researched and has a purpose. One of those purposes is to defend the ministry of Paul. I think it is quite possible that the latter part of the book was written partially to be read in some form to the Roman emperor in defense of Paul’s ministry.

We sometimes underestimate Christians’ need to be wise, study hard, and be careful what we say and how we say it. We are called to defend our faith. Christ warned us that we will occasionally be called before important people to make that defense. When that happens, we need to be wise. From the beginning, Paul shows a certain shrewd wisdom in how he handles his defense. He conducts himself in a dignified manner. He provides his accusers with the best possible defense against the charges against him. This defense, which is ultimately pretty simple, is often missed by contemporary Christians. What Paul is saying is that the religious dispute between him and the Jewish people is not a matter for secular authorities to handle.

Last week, we looked at Paul’s third missionary journey, ending with his emotional final conversation with the Ephesian elders. As Luke depicts the conversation, it is obvious that Paul felt that his days of active mission and ministry were coming to an end. In Luke’s account, he tells the Ephesian elders:

And now, compelled by the Spirit, I am going to Jerusalem, not knowing what will happen to me there. I only know that in every city the Holy Spirit warns me that prison and hardships are facing me. However, I consider my life worth nothing to me; my only aim is to finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the good news of God’s grace (Acts 20:22-24).

Nevertheless, Paul continued on his journey across the Eastern Mediterranean Sea down the coast towards Jerusalem, stopping at various places along the way.

Marching to a Different Drummer

In Tyre, so much in our thoughts and prayers these days because it is in war-torn Lebanon.  There, the local congregation prayed for Paul and, by the power of the Holy Spirit, warned him not to go on with his journey (Acts 21:4). Later, in Caesarea, Agabus, the prophet and the people of the local congregation begged Paul not to go up to Jerusalem (vv. 8-12). Most rational people regard warnings as something to be guided by and suffering as something to be avoided. It is obvious that Paul and the churches he had founded were deeply concerned about his journey to Jerusalem. Nevertheless, he continued on. Why?

One cannot be sure, but I think it was his deep internal commitment to his mission and the church in Jerusalem. Perhaps in the back of his mind was the desire to proclaim the gospel one final time to his native people in the center of their religious homeland—the Temple in Jerusalem. Paul gives as his reason his willingness to suffer, be imprisoned, and even die for the gospel of Christ (Acts 21:13-14). A less fearless person would probably have stopped, turned around, and gone somewhere where the Spirit indicated a successful and safe mission. Certainly, most contemporary pastors would choose this course of action. Paul, however, embodies a different wisdom, what he calls in I Corinthians “the foolishness of the cross” (I Corinthians 1:18):

For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified.  I came to you in weakness with great fear and trembling. My message and my preaching were not with wise and persuasive words, but with a demonstration of the Spirit’s power, so that your faith might not rest on human wisdom, but on God’s power. We do, however, speak a message of wisdom among the mature, but not the wisdom of this age or of the rulers of this age, who are coming to nothing. ⁷ No, we declare God’s wisdom, a mystery that has been hidden and that God destined for our glory before time began. None of the rulers of this age understood it, for if they had, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory (I Corinthians 2:2-8).

This particular aspect of Paul’s character and ministry is a specific challenge in our time, when so many pastors, preachers, religious groups, and Christian institutions strive so hard to find a way to accommodate the Christian message in such a way as to appeal to and win the approval of its cultural despisers. Paul reminds us that God has his wisdom, way of doing things, and strategy for saving the world—and it is not the strategy of religious experts or secular leaders. It is the preaching of the gospel, living a life of holiness, and submitting one’s self to the ridicule of the world. There is no other way to make sense of the cross.

Into the Belly of the Whale

In the end, Paul was convinced he must go, and so he went up to Jerusalem and was received by the elders of the church there (vv. 17). He was greeted by James, the leader of the Jerusalem church, and the elders and gave them a report on his mission (vv. 18-19). In response, the elders gave glory to God (v. 20). As I previously mentioned, these reports show that Paul was not a freelancer, nor did he reject the guidance of the other apostles and elders, but was submissive to their guidance. Perhaps it is old age, but I am increasingly suspicious of those churches in which there is no order, and every pastor is independent. I am similarly suspicious of those pastors in more orderly religious groups who substitute their wisdom for the group’s wisdom. Paul was capable of independent action—even dramatic and risky, but he was not a lone ranger.

In any case, in this situation, church leaders gave Paul some excellent advice: he should go with some of the local Christians who had taken a vow (a Jewish custom adopted by the early church, and purify himself according to the Jewish law (vv. 23-25). In other words, Paul, being a Jewish Christian, should act according to the Jewish law. In giving this advice to Paul, the elders make it clear that it is for Paul, not Gentile believers, who need only follow the advice the Jerusalem council gave (Acts 15). Paul takes their advice and does as they requested (vv. 26).

Facing a Mob

After seven days of purification, Paul went to the temple to offer a sacrifice (v. 26). There, he was noticed and faced with a mob crying out: “Fellow Israelites, help us! This man teaches everyone everywhere against our people and our law and this place. And besides, he has brought Greeks into the temple and defiled this holy place.” (v. 28). At least two things are wrong with what is being said:

First, Paul is not speaking out against the law. He is complying with it, as the leaders of the Christian congregation in Jerusalem urged him to do.

Second, as Luke goes on to point out, he has not brought Greeks into the temple in violation of Jewish law (v. 29).

Nevertheless, there is such an uproar that the tribune (a Roman official) is called to the scene and arrests Paul to forestall a larger riot (vv. 29-32). Paul is then placed in chains (v. 33), a mistake because Paul is a Roman citizen. As he was about to be led out of the area into the Roman barracks, Paul asked to speak to the crowd. The tribune, who thought he must be an Egyptian troublemaker, was surprised to hear Paul speak Greek, allowing him to talk (vv. 37-39). Interestingly, Paul does not speak to the Jewish crowd in Greek, which most of them would have been familiar with, but in Hebrew, the language of the Old Testament (v. 40).

The Apostle Paul had often told his story to others to bring them to Christ and encourage their faith. His testimony is recorded more than once in Acts and again in Galatians (Acts 22:1-21; 26:4-20; Galatians 1:13-2:21). We can deduce that Paul’s testimony was essential to his mission of sharing the gospel. I imagine Paul told his story hundreds of times in many different homes and cities during his ministry. Now, at near close of Acts, Paul tells his story at length to his fellow Jews. Here is the story as Paul tells it: [1]

I am a Jew, born in Tarsus of Cilicia but brought up in this city. I studied under Gamaliel and was thoroughly trained in the law of our ancestors. I was just as zealous for God as any of you are today. I persecuted the followers of this Way to their death, arresting both men and women and throwing them into prison, as the high priest and all the Council can themselves testify. I even obtained letters from them to their associates in Damascus and went there to bring these people as prisoners to Jerusalem to be punished. About noon as I came near Damascus, suddenly a bright light from heaven flashed around me. I fell to the ground and heard a voice say to me, “Saul! Saul! Why do you persecute me?” “Who are you, Lord?” I asked. “I am Jesus of Nazareth, whom you are persecuting,” he replied. My companions saw the light, but they did not understand the voice of him who was speaking to me.  “What shall I do, Lord?” I asked. “Get up,” the Lord said, “and go into Damascus. There you will be told all that you have been assigned to do.” My companions led me by the hand into Damascus, because the brilliance of the light had blinded me. A man named Ananias came to see me. He was a devout observer of the law and highly respected by all the Jews living there. He stood beside me and said, “Brother Saul, receive your sight!” And at that very moment I was able to see him. Then he said: “The God of our ancestors has chosen you to know his will and to see the Righteous One and to hear words from his mouth. You will be his witness to all people of what you have seen and heard. And now what are you waiting for? Get up, be baptized and wash your sins away, calling on his name.” When I returned to Jerusalem and was praying at the temple, I fell into a trance and saw the Lord speaking to me. “Quick!” he said. “Leave Jerusalem immediately, because the people here will not accept your testimony about me.” “Lord,” I replied, “these people know that I went from one synagogue to another to imprison and beat those who believe in you. And when the blood of your martyr Stephen was shed, I stood there giving my approval and guarding the clothes of those who were killing him.” Then the Lord said to me, “Go; I will send you far away to the Gentiles” (Acts 22:1-21).

 Paul’s testimony has three important features: First, he tells what kind of a person he was before Christ called him to be an apostle. Then, he tells how this happened in a dramatic encounter with Christ, much as the prophets describe their calling. Finally, he tells what happened due to his call to follow Jesus.  Before Paul became a Christian, he was a persecutor of Christians. He hated Christ and the Christian faith. Then, he met Christ on the road to Damascus, on his way to persecute the Christians in that city. As a result of his conversion, Paul became a missionary to the Gentiles.  Finally, and often missed, is the community Paul entered when he received this call: He was taken into Damascus, where eventually he was accepted by the church and ministered to him. He was welcomed by the Jerusalem church, though not by everyone (Acts 9:8-19). Later, Barnabas came beside Paul and allowed him to use his gifts in Antioch, from where he was sent on his missionary journeys (Acts 11:25-26).

All good testimonies have these four characteristics that Paul incorporates into his testimony:

• What kind of person was I before I encountered Christ?
• How I encountered Christ.
• The difference that faith in Christ makes in my life.
• The community of faith of which I became a part of because of my calling.

Most mature Christians remember how we lived before we became Christians, how they became Christians, and what changed because they became Christians. Most Christians have testimonies of what God has done in their lives and how it changed them for the better. Notice that the story of Paul’s Christian experience does not end with his conversion on the Road to Damascus. Neither does our calling to follow Christ as a disciple of the Risen Lord.

Conclusion

Next week, I will continue to follow Luke’s narrative of Paul’s visit to Jerusalem, imprisonment in Caesarea, and the ultimate trip to Rome.

Copyright 2024, G. Christopher Scruggs, All Rights Reserved

[1] This section of the blog is from Crisis of Discipleship: Renewing the Art of Relational Disciple-Making (Richmond, VA: Living Dialog Ministries, 2023).

Paul’s third missionary journey (around 52–57 A.D.) followed the same route as his second. Reading Acts makes it difficult to see that another journey has begun. The Second Missionary Journey ends with Paul in Corinth. In Acts 18:18., it is recorded that:

Paul stayed on in Corinth for some time. Then he left the brothers and sisters and sailed for Syria, accompanied by Priscilla and Aquila. Before he sailed, he had his hair cut off at Cenchreae because of a vow he had taken. They arrived at Ephesus, where Paul left Priscilla and Aquila. He went into the synagogue and reasoned with the Jews. When they asked him to spend more time with them, he declined.  But as he left, he promised, “I will come back if it is God’s will.” Then he set sail from Ephesus. When he landed at Caesarea, he went up to Jerusalem, greeted the church, and then went down to Antioch. After spending some time in Antioch, Paul set out from there and traveled from place to place throughout the region of Galatia and Phrygia, strengthening all the disciples(Acts 18:18-23).

Trip to Jerusalem

After a short initial visit to Ephesus, where Paul left his colleagues, Priscilla and Aquila, Paul returned to Jerusalem, presumably to explain what he’d been doing to those at the center of the apostolic Church. In this report, we can see that Paul did not conceive of himself as a Lone Ranger or as establishing a new religion, but instead, he is part of a more significant movement of the apostles through the early church. Acts do not tell us precisely what Paul said or did In Jerusalem other than to greet the church, but he likely gave some description of his ministry in Asia Minor and Greece. Having reported to the mother church, Paul returned to Antioch, where he began his First and Second Missionary Journeys. This indicates that Paul probably considered Antioch his “Home Base.” The Third Missionary Journey begins with his departure from Antioch after Paul spends time with his home church.

Contemporary pastors often feel they can’t return to the church where their ministry began. Among pastors, it is common to “Jesus is saying that “A prophet is not without honor, except in his own country, among his own people, and his own house” (Mark 4:6). Paul did not feel this way. Having reported to the church in Jerusalem, he now went home to report what he’d been doing to the church where he grew up as a Christian leader, from which he was sent out to be a missionary to the Gentile world. Not everyone in Jerusalem appreciated Paul or his ministry. Still, he continued to serve the greater Christian movement and abide by the decisions and leadership of the other apostles and the Church as a whole. This reiterates a lesson: not everyone will appreciate a ministry, but that lack of appreciation does not render the ministry a failure.

Apollos, the Spirit, and Speaking in Tongues

Like the Second Missionary Journey, Paul began by visiting the congregations he founded in Asia Minor; traveling through Galatia and Phrygia, he eventually reached the port city of Ephesus, where he had earlier strengthened the church. He had promised the Ephesians he would return (and Paul kept his word). Paul stayed in Ephesus for a long time. While Paul was traveling, Apollos, another disciple who would become a great leader in the early church, arrived at Ephesus (Acts 18:27). Apollos was only aware of John the Baptist’s baptism of repentance (v. 25). He did not know about the new life in the Holy Spirit that believers in Christ experienced. Pricilla and Aquilla invited him to their home, and it was there that Apollos learned about the Holy Spirit (v. 26). Here we see the fruit of Paul’s ministry: Even when he is not present, his followers are capable of expanding the faith and raising up new leaders.

Apollos is an important person in the New Testament. Some scholars believe that he is the author of the book of Hebrews. He was an Alexandrian Jew trained in Greek rhetoric and was very learned. Even though he did not know about the baptism of the Holy Spirit, Apollos knew about the life and ministry of Jesus and could teach accurately. (v. 25). Apparently, Paul and Apollos did not know one another at the time. As Paul left Corinth, Apollo was making a journey there. When he examined the disciples who had come to Christ through the ministry of Apollos, he found out that they did not know about the Holy Spirit. Paul then laid hands on them, and they received the Holy Spirit, spoke in tongues, and prophesied as a sign of their new life in Christ (19:1-7).

This particular passage is important for contemporary Christians who have questions about the charismatic movement. It’s evident from the text that the early church conceived a difference between repentance from sins, or turning away from the past, and receiving the Holy Spirit, the power to live the new life in Christ. Pentecostals often use this passage to indicate that speaking in tongues is a necessary sign that the Holy Spirit has been received. Interestingly, in the New Testament, there are situations in which speaking in tongues is a sign of the coming of the Holy Spirit (Acts 2:6-11). Still, there are others where it is simply recorded that the believers received the Spirit.

First Corinthians teaches that God gives different gifts to different people (1 Cor 12:8-11). According to Paul, some believers are given the gift of tongues, but others are given various gifts. Thus, Paul teaches that “There are varieties of gift, but the same Spirit” (1 Cor 12:4).  In other words, God gives different gifts to different people through the Holy Spirit. In this vein, Paul asks in 1 Cor 12:30, “Do all speak in tongues?” This would indicate that not everyone spoke in tongues, even in the first-century church. I have seen evidence of the gifts of the spirit, including the gift of speaking in tongues. However, not all the people who believe to have been filled with the Holy Spirit and had powerful ministries have spoken in tongues. Nevertheless, a fair reading of the New Testament indicates that it was a common phenomenon in Pauline congregations. In Ephesus, when he arrives, he teaches about the gifts of the Spirit, and people receive the Spirit of God (Acts 19:1-7).

Paul’s Powerful Preaching

Eventually, Paul arrived in Ephesus. Paul’s pattern of ministry in emphasis was similar to that in other places. He went into the synagogue and spoke about the gospel of Christ (v. 8). When opposition arose, Paul left the synagogue and began teaching elsewhere. During this period, Paul performed miraculous acts of healing and deliverance. Many people gave up the magic arts and became Christians (vv. 11-22). Then, after building up the Ephesian church, Paul traveled again through Macedonia and Achaia, strengthening the believers.

During this period Paul decided that the time might be coming when he should leave Ephesus and go back to Jerusalem after traveling through Macedonia and Greece again. He also intended to go to Rome. To prepare for his journey, he sent Timothy and another disciple ahead to Macedonia to make arrangements for his trip while he stayed in Ephesus (vv. 21-22). It is obvious that even amid one of his greatest successes, Paul’s mind was on the continuing ministry of the gospel and sharing it as far as he might be able to do so. It’s also evident that he felt that he needed to visit Jerusalem, perhaps as a matter of missionary compassion, giving them a gift, or perhaps as a way of seeking advice and counsel from the Jerusalem church.

At this point, an event occurred that hastened Paul’s departure from Ephesus. One of the earliest characteristics of the early church was the proclamation that the gods of Greece and Rome, and the images of those gods often sold to individuals, was a pagan practice that Christianity superseded. Naturally, those in the business of fashioning and selling statues of the Greek gods would not be excited about this message. Making statues of the Greek goddess Artemis was a profitable business. Demetrius, who was in this business, gathered together the city’s artisans and convinced them that Paul was bad for business (vv. 23-26). A riot and sued. The hatred against Paul was so great that the church and others played with him not to go out in public. In the end, the matter was brought before the city clerk. The city clerk decided that the matter should be decided in a court of law and quieted the riot. His reason for doing so was probably to prevent the Roman authorities from learning that there had been a riot in Ephesus and its leadership had been unable to calm it. In any case, shortly after that, Paul left the city.

Paul’s ministry in Ephesus was long, perhaps even longer than his ministry in court. Paul finally developed an emphasis at the church that would become one of the great centers of the early Christian faith. In a way, Paul’s ministry was the climax of his career. He had developed a strategy that enabled him to build churches throughout Asia, Minor, and Greece. The strategy could build leaders who could carry on the ministry beyond his presence.

Paul’s experiences are relevant today. It would be nice if everyone appreciated the ministry of a pastor or disciple-maker. Unfortunately, that’s usually not the case. Typically, there’s opposition, and sometimes that opposition is significant enough that the time comes to move on. This does not mean that the ministry was a failure. Even though Paul had to leave a city on more than one occasion, his ministry thrived. It’s good to remember that the final benefits of our ministry may not be seen during this time. We are there to experience the appreciation of others. It may be that it will be some time before the full benefits of our ministry are known.

Revisiting and Revisiting

Eventually, Paul left for Macedonia. As was his custom, he traveled through the area, visiting the churches he had planted on his second missionary journey (20:1). Eventually, there was a threat to his life, so he went back to Asia, mainly through Macedonia, instead of sailing by a more direct route (v. 2). Once again, he did not travel alone, but other disciples of Christ accompanied him (vv.4-6). He visited the churches in Philippi and Troas during this visit (vv. 5-6). At Troas, an event occurs, and Luke gives that importance. Paul was preaching in the upper room of a house. As pastors sometimes do, he kept on talking until well after midnight. In the upstairs window, a young man named Eutychus was sitting, and he fell asleep during the sermon. Eventually, he fell out of the window from the third story of the house and was picked up as dead. Perhaps feeling ashamed about the length of his sermon, Paul took the young man in his arms and healed him (vv. 7-12).

An Emotional Farewell

There is no passage in Paul’s missionary journeys more touching than his final meeting with the Ephesian elders. I have preached this text on more than one occasion in my ministry. It never ceases to move me. By this time, Paul is on his way to Jerusalem. He knows that in Jerusalem, not everyone will accept him and that he will face opposition. He suspects that his return to Jerusalem may be the beginning of the end of his ministry. Nevertheless, he goes.

Along the way, he visits the Ephesian church leaders, with which he has had a profound and intimate relationship (v. 17), one last time. Today, Ephesus is an empty city filled with fascinating Greek and Roman ruins, including the ruins of a great library. In Paul’s day, it was one of the most important cities in the Roman Empire and a center of Christianity during the first few centuries. How it happened shows the Ephesian church’s esteem and love for the missionary. Paul met his friends at Assos and sailed south to Miletus, beyond Ephesus. Paul sent a message to the church elders to meet him there, which they did (vv. 13-17). When they arrived, Paul spoke to them from the heart:

You know how I lived the whole time I was with you, from the first day I came into the province of Asia. I served the Lord with great humility and with tears amid severe testing by the plots of my Jewish opponents. You know that I have not hesitated to preach anything that would be helpful to you but have taught you publicly and from house to house. I have declared to Jews and Greeks that they must turn to God in repentance and have faith in our Lord Jesus. Now, compelled by the Spirit, I am going to Jerusalem, not knowing what will happen there. I only know that the Holy Spirit warns me in every city that prison and hardships are facing me.  However, I consider my life worth nothing to me; my only aim is to finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus gave me— testifying to the good news of God’s grace.

Now I know that none of you among whom I have gone about preaching the kingdom will ever see me again. Therefore, I declare to you today that I am innocent of the blood of any of you, for I have not hesitated to proclaim to you the whole will of God.  Keep watch over yourselves and all the flock of which the Holy Spirit has made you overseers. Be shepherds of the church of God, which he bought with his blood. I know that after I leave, savage wolves will come among you and not spare the flock. People will arise and distort the truth to draw away disciples after them, even from your own number.  So be on your guard! Remember that I never stopped warning each of you night and day with tears for three years.

Now I commit you to God and the word of his grace, which can build you up and give you an inheritance among all sanctified people. I have not coveted anyone’s silver or gold or clothing.  You know that these hands of mine have supplied my needs and companions.  In everything I did, I showed you that by this kind of hard work, we must help the weak, remembering the words the Lord Jesus himself said: ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive (Acts 20:18-35).

I have reprinted the speech because each word and phrase speaks of Paul’s love for this church and its leaders. Too often, we think it’s sufficient to preach the word of God to our congregations. There is no substitute for preaching the word clearly and consistently with the apostolic witness. However, there is great truth to the proverb that people won’t listen to what you say until they know you care about them. Paul’s effectiveness as a missionary was built upon more than his great intellect, his clear understanding of the gospel, his practical experience in ministry, and the other fine qualities he possessed. In addition to all these qualities, Paul possessed a love for the people he was serving. This is the chief and most important characteristic of those who would make disciples and care for the flock of God.

Copyright, 2024, G. Christopher Scruggs, All RIghts Reserved

Paul’s Second Missionary Journey illustrates the truth that outstanding achievements sometimes have troublesome beginnings. Acts 15 tells the story of the council in Jerusalem, where the early church decided that Gentile believers didn’t need to become Jews to become Christians. In response to the complaints of what are sometimes called the Judaizers, the church sent a letter designed to build unity in the church, concluding:

It seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us not to burden you with anything beyond the following requirements: You are to abstain from food sacrificed to idols, from blood, from the meat of strangled animals and sexual immorality. You will do well to avoid these things (Acts 15:28-29).

The Jerusalem church then sent a circular letter to all the churches, giving them their wisdom and the council’s decision.

Paul and Barnabas were at the Jerusalem meeting where the decision was made. They received the thanks of the apostles for the work that they had done and returned to Antioch. Sometime later, Paul suggested they retrace their steps on the first missionary journey to see how the new churches were doing. Paul wanted to follow up to be sure that the churches had received the letter, accepted its contents, and were moving forward peacefully. We know this to be true. In Acts, Luke records the following concerning the mission:

As they traveled from town to town, they delivered the decisions reached by the apostles and elders in Jerusalem for the people to obey. So, the churches were strengthened in the faith and grew daily in numbers (Acts 16:4-5).

However, before they left for their mission, a problem arose. During the First Missionary Journey, it appears that John Mark became homesick and returned to Jerusalem early. Paul did not want to take him on this second trip, fearing that he would again desert them. Barnabas, truly the “Son of Encouragement,” felt differently, and there was an argument. In the end, Barnabas took John Mark with him and returned to Cyprus, where he was well-known, and Paul took Silas, a firm believer, to visit the churches in Syria.

Contemporary Christians sometimes consider the early church perfect, without the imperfections we see in the congregations around us. Over and over again, the Acts of the Apostles reveal that this is not true. There were disagreements and personality conflicts in the early church. I’m almost certain that Paul was sometimes difficult to get along with. We can’t expect our churches to be any different.

The passage also reveals that, although the church’s unity is essential, there are times when individuals in conflict or groups in conflict simply need to separate and go their separate ways. This is not a division in the church but a division of responsibility and ministry designed to keep peace. It makes little or no sense to force disagreeing persons and congregations to remain together when the only result is dysfunction, disagreement, debate, and spiritual deterioration on all sides. People should go their separate ways, forgive and forget, and wait for reconciliation. We know there was a reconciliation between Paul and John Mark, for he is with Paul near the end of his ministry.

Timothy Joins the Mission

When they reached Derby, Paul and Silas gained a new helper. Timothy joined the group. His mother was a Jewish, but his father was a Greek. He would be comfortable in both Greek and Jewish culture. He had never been circumcised. To avoid conflict with the Jews, Paul circumcised Timothy and invited him to come along on his mission. This is an important event in the history of the church. Eventually, Timothy will become Paul’s most trusted assistant. In addition, two of the letters in the New Testament are written by Paul to Timothy. Tradition holds that Timothy became a bishop and leader in the early church until his death. Although Paul would not be John Mark’s primary mentor, he was Timothy’s.

Power of a Dream

As with the first missionary journey, this trip was not without problems. Eventually, Paul traveled beyond Galatia and the boundaries of the First Missionary Journey, intending to probe more deeply into Asia. However, when the group tried to turn to the east, they encountered difficulties, which the Bible describes as the Spirit of Jesus preventing them from going further east into Bythinia (16:6-10). Finally, they arrived at Troas, where Paul had a vision or dream in the night. He saw a man from Macedonia asking them to cross over into their territory (v. 9). Therefore, Paul and his companions arranged to go into Macedonia. As a result of this turn of events, Paul’s ministry took him into Europe instead of further into Asia, and the Christianization of Europe had begun. When I preach on this, I sometimes say, “We wouldn’t be here today if Paul hadn’t had that night vision at Troas.”

This is probably a good illustration of the principle that our failures and missteps are sometimes a way for God to take us to where he wanted us to be all along. When a ministry or program does not work out, contemporary Christians and pastors sometimes feel like failures. We think that we have not accomplished the “Will of God.” This is not necessarily true. The opposition and failure we are now experiencing may be the prelude to success.

More Help in Philippi

We know Luke joined Paul around this time because, in Acts 16:11, Luke begins to use the first person plural “we” to describe the mission. Once again, this is an event of great importance. Luke is the author of two New Testament books, the gospel of Luke and the Acts of the Apostles. Without him, we would know substantially less about Jesus and Paul than we know. Educated as a doctor, he writes in excellent Greek, and his books are exceptionally well organized. He begins his two-volume works,  Luke and Acts, letting the readers know he has researched his subject and is speaking as a witness and researcher (Luke 1:1-4). Like Timothy, Luke continued to minister to Christians beyond the lifetime of Paul. He represents that second generation that continued to share the gospel after the original apostolic witnesses died.

Eventually, the group arrived at Philippi. In Philippi, they met a woman named Lydia, described as God-fearing who dealt in purple cloth. Since purple cloth was worn only by the elite and on Paul’s day, this would make Lydia a significant person. She invited Paul and the group to come and stay at her home, which must’ve been relatively large to accommodate travelers and their luggage.

Paul’s friendship with Lydia illustrates another critical point about evangelism and one that has been mentioned before in these blogs. When Jesus sent out the apostles on their initial training journey, he sent them two by two. He also asked them to look for people of peace:

When you enter a house, say, “Peace to this house.” If a man of peace is there, your peace will rest on him; if not, it will return to you. Stay in that house, eating and drinking whatever they give you, for the worker deserves his wages (Luke 10:5-7).

Lydia and her husband were people of peace. This chance meeting led her household to become believers and be baptized (Acts 16:15).

Eventually, Paul and Silas faced opposition and were imprisoned in Philippi. Instead of looking for a means of escape, it appears that when an earthquake occurred, Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God and ministering to the other prisoners! (16:28-27). When the quake came, Paul and Silas were in a position to escape, an event that would’ve meant the execution of their jailer. Instead of rushing to freedom, they stayed. As a result, the jailer and his whole household came to believe in Jesus and became part of the Philippian church (16:31-34). Once again, this event is described as one of great joy (v. 35).

Opposition in Thessalonica

By the time Paul reached Thessalonica, his strategy was to reach the population of the Greeks, and Asia was well-developed, as was the predictable response of some who heard the message. Thus, it is recorded:

As was his custom, Paul went into the synagogue, and on three Sabbath days, he reasoned with them from the Scriptures, explaining and proving that the Messiah had to suffer and rise from the dead. “This Jesus I am proclaiming to you is the Messiah,” he said.  Some of the Jews were persuaded and joined Paul and Silas, as did a large number of God-fearing Greeks and quite a few prominent women. But other Jews were jealous, so they rounded up some bad characters from the marketplace, formed a mob, and started a riot in the city (Acts 17:2-5).

Expecting human nature to change is a temptation. Falling into this temptation is a constant invitation to delusion and disappointment. The fact is, we can’t expect everyone to agree with us about anything. Anytime someone attempts to change anything for the better, there is and will be opposition. The question is not how to avoid opposition. The question is how to anticipate and deal with it.

Noble Bereans—the Power of the Word

Every pastor loves to preach on Acts 17:10–15. When Paul gets to Berea, he finds the Bereans more inclined to listen to his testimony. They even examine the script daily to decide for themselves whether what Paul is saying is true (v. 11). Many people believed, and Paul did not experience the kind of opposition he experienced in Thessalonica (v. 12). However, no good thing lasts forever The people of Thessalonica found out about Paul’s success in Berea. So they sent people to Berea to cause trouble (v. 13). The result was that Paul had to go to Athens, where he ministered by himself (vv. 14-15).

The Challenges of Ministering to Intellectuals

When Paul arrived in Athens, he waited for Timothy and the others to catch up with him (v. 16). Nevertheless, Paul was not the sort of person to sit around and do nothing. He followed his strategy. He often went to the synagogue and spoke to Jews and the God Fearers among the Gentiles who worshiped there (Acts 17:16-14). He even began ministering in the public marketplace. There, Paul had the opportunity to speak to the intellectual elite of the Roman world. It is most interesting to see how Paul changes his strategy to accommodate his different situation.

To begin with, Paul finds a point of commonality between the Athenians and his gospel. There were statues of many gods standing around the area where Paul debated with the philosophers. Now, these philosophers probably didn’t believe in any of the gods. To find a point of common belief, he pointed out that they had a statue of an “unknown God” (17:23). This is important. The Greek philosophers were well aware that the many Greek gods were mythological. On the other hand, both Plato and Aristotle believed that there was some kind of a God. Paul begins his argument by pointing to this unknown God, this God for whom the philosophers were looking, and saying that God was the god of Israel, who became flesh in Jesus Christ.

Many people today do not believe in the god or religion of their childhood. This is true of Christians, Jews, Muslims, and other world religions. Nevertheless, many of these people are in their hearts searching for the unknown God. Paul’s strategy is as good as when he first used it. We just have to accommodate the change in our civilization from the civilization of ancient Greece.

Paul goes on to describe this God:

The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples built by human hands. And he is not served by human hands, as if he needed anything. Instead, he gives everyone life and breath and everything else. From one man, he made all the nations that they should inhabit the whole earth, and he marked out their appointed times in history and the boundaries of their lands. God did this so that they would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from any one of us. “For in him we live and move and have our being.’ As some of your poets have said, ‘We are his offspring.” Therefore, since we are God’s offspring, we should not think that the divine being is like gold, silver, or stone—an image made by human design and skill. In the past, God overlooked such ignorance, but now he commands everyone everywhere to repent, for he has set a day when he will judge the world with justice by the man he has appointed. He has given proof of this to everyone by raising him from the dead (Acts 17:24-31).

I have quoted this passage at length for a reason. It has been popular in the 20^th century to denigrate what is called natural theology. That is to say, it has become unpopular to defend biblical faith based on philosophical arguments that defend the existence of an abstract God. It’s worth noting that that’s precisely what Paul begins by doing. He starts by describing a God that would’ve been readily acceptable to the people of his day. After describing this philosophical God, Paul ends by explaining how this God became incarnate in Jesus Christ and was raised from the dead. In other words, Paul moves from a philosophical argument to biblical faith.

A Rich but Eventually Troubled Church

From Athens, Paul moves to Corinth. In Corinth, he meets two refugees, Priscilla and Aquiles, who had left Rome because of the persecution by the emperor Claudius. Once again, Paul begins by finding a person of peace with whom he could stay and administer. He follows the instructions Jesus gave the disciples when he sent them out. Even before the others arrive, he preaches the gospel in the synagogue. Once his traveling companions joined him, he devoted himself exclusively to preaching and testifying to the Jews that Jesus was the Christ.

Once again, opposition arose. One can imagine that during the conflict, Paul became discouraged. Therefore, one night, the Lord spoke to Paul in a vision, saying, “Do not be afraid; keep on speaking, do not be silent.  For I am with you, and no one is going to attack and harm you, because I have many people in this city” (Acts 189-10). Once again, it is natural to be discouraged when conflict arises. It is good to remember that conflict can be one way God accomplishes his purpose.

In Corinth, Paul left the synagogue and went next door to the house of the Titius Justus, a worshiper of God. This man, the synagogue leader, and his household believed in Christ. Paul stayed in Corinth for a year and a half, and the gospel message prospered (v. 11). Once again, this indicates that Paul was following the original instructions of Jesus to stay in one place until the time came to move on. This allowed Paul to build a relatively strong church that could end your conflict before he went on with the rest of his journey.

Conclusion

When we read about Paul’s second missionary journey, we see evidence that he understood Jesus’ teachings. He was even aware of some of the specific ways Jesus had trained the original 12 disciples to be his apostles. He seems to follow the same pattern that Jesus said for ministry. He does not travel alone. He usually travels with others. The only time he is alone is when circumstances demand it.

Paul begins his ministry by reaching out to the Jews of any given community. He preaches in the synagogues until he is no longer able. When he can no longer do so, he leaves and begins a congregation outside the synagogue. The structure of the gospel he is preaching is relatively simple. Jesus is the fulfillment of the Old Testament prophecies of the Messiah of Israel. In Jesus, God acted to restore the human race to fellowship with God. When this fellowship is established, the Holy Spirit is present in a unique way, and new Christians experience joy.

Finally, during the Second Missionary Journey, we see Paul constantly looking for persons of peace, first Lydia, and then Priscilla and Aquila, Titus Justus, Crispus, and others. Paul is under no illusions that he can do the job alone or even together with his missionary partners. He needs people in the local community who fit in with the local community to help him reach as many people as possible. People of peace do not just become Christians. They frequently become apostles themselves, sharing the gospel in a way impossible for an outsider.

Copyright, G. Christopher Scruggs 2024, All Rights Reserved

Sometime in the Spring, around 44 A.D., The church members in Antioch in modern Syria decided to commission Saul of Tarsus and Barnabas of Cyprus to be missionaries, sharing the gospel in the surrounding area. They laid hands on both men and ordained them to be “apostles” or “sent ones” from the Antiochian church. Acts 13 describes the event as follows:

Now there were in the church at Antioch prophets and teachers, Barnabas, Simeon, who was called Niger, Lucius of Cyrene, Manaen, a lifelong friend of Herod the Tetrarch, and Saul. While they were worshiping the Lord and fasting, the Holy Spirit said, “Set apart for me Barnabas and Saul for the work to which I have called them.” Then, after fasting and praying, they laid their hands on them and sent them off (Acts 13:1-3).

It would be hard to overestimate the importance of this decision. Born of prayer, worship, study, and fasting, the church and Antioch felt that the Holy Spirit was speaking to them, asking them to send their two most potent leaders elsewhere. It’s hard to imagine a contemporary church making such a decision! Nevertheless, under the impulse of the Holy Spirit, the church in Antioch made this brave decision. That decision has changed the course of human history nearly as much as the incarnation of Christ. Because of that decision, the Christian church spread rapidly during the First Century and continued its growth until it became the established religion of the Roman Empire. The entire story took just about 300 years.

From Antioch, Paul, Barnabas, and John Mark began a missionary journey (Acts 13:4 – 52, 14:1 – 25). The group traveled to Seleucia and then sailed to Salamis, the principal city and seaport of the island of Cyprus. Paul would make longer missionary journeys in the future. This particular journey was vital because it was the first. The group traveled in the southeast portion of today’s modern Turkey. At its furthest extent, the journey reached nearly the center of modern Turkey.

The Strategy

There are many reasons to be interested in that first missionary journey. Not the least of which is that it was the beginning of an experiment, and it was successful enough that there were other missionary journeys in the future. Paul and Barnabas, who would not always travel together, developed a methodology of mission that served them well for the rest of their missionary careers. There are several aspects of that particular method that deserve to be noted:

• First, the journey was primarily to small cities in a geographic area with which the entire church was familiar. They didn’t immediately send Paul and Barnes to the end of the Earth. They sent them to a region relatively close by culture, proximity, and other factors that would assist in the mission’s success.
• Second, Paul and Barnabas traveled as a group. John Mark was sent with them. We don’t know, but others might have come along for all or part of the journey. In any case, the principle of mutual support was evident even during the first century.
• Third, Cyprus is mentioned as the final destination of the journey. Barnabas was from Cyprus. Historians believe he was a fairly prominent person in Cyprus. He had connections in Cyprus. Cyprus is important for several reasons and is geographically essential in the region. Finally, because Cyprus is close to Israel, there was a sizeable Jewish population in the first century, and today, there is a large Jewish population. In other words, some people might understand what Paul and Barnabas were trying to say. Even today, it is a center of business, diplomacy, and other activities. It was a wise choice for a final stop on the first journey.

The strategy that guided the Antiochian church and Paul and Barnabas in the early first century continues to be vital to us today. Most of us are called to share the gospel where we are or in areas reasonably close to our homes. Most of us need some kind of help as we share the gospel. We need to be part of a team. Finally, most of us have a circle of influence or friendships that impact our ability to share the gospel. Sometimes, this is called our “circle of influence.”

Learning by Doing

During the First Missionary Journey, it became apparent that Christian missionaries would face opposition from time to time. In Paphos, they were confronted with the Jewish sorcerer, an essential associate of the Roman proconsul, Sergius, Paules. Paul relied on the Holy Spirit to overcome the opposition (13:6-12). The last time that the apostle Paul would face opposition, intellectual and physical, and sharing the gospel around the Mediterranean basin.

In Antioch, we learn an essential element of how Paul shared the gospel. It is recorded that on the sabbath day, Paul went down, and after reading the law and the Prophets, he explained the gospel to them. He did so by recounting the story of the liberation of Israel from Egypt and the foundation of the Dynasty of King David. He ends by identifying Jesus as the true heir of King David, and he eliminates any confusion concerning the role of John the Baptist, of whom the residents may have heard:

Of this man’s offspring, God has brought to Israel a Savior, Jesus, as he promised.  Before he came, John had proclaimed a baptism of repentance to all the people of Israel. And as John finished his course, he said, ‘What do you suppose I am? I am not he. No, but behold, after me, one is coming, the sandals of whose feet I am not worthy to untie.’ (13:23-25).

The messianic promise given to the people of Israel by the profits has been fulfilled in Jesus of Nazareth (v. 23).

In speaking to the people of obsidian Antioch, Paul also developed the habit of sharing the gospel in its simplest and most basic form:

Let it be known to you therefore, brothers, that through this man forgiveness of sins is proclaimed to you, and by him everyone who believes is freed from everything from which you could not be freed by the law of Moses (13:38-39).

Here is the center of the gospel in its most basic form: through Jesus, human sin can be forgiven, and the guilt and shame humans feel because we cannot keep the moral law in its entirety are forgiven.

The Jewish response to this proclamation of the good news of the forgiveness of sins through Jesus foreshadowed problems that would arise in nearly every city First Century missionaries visited. The local Jewish population could not accept the idea that there was a way to fellowship with God that did not involve obeying the law.

So it is that at Pisidian Antioch, Paul uttered these famous words:

Since you thrust it aside and judge yourselves unworthy of eternal life, behold, we are turning to the Gentiles. For so the Lord has commanded us, saying, “I have made you a light for the Gentiles, that you may bring salvation to the ends of the earth” (13:46-47).

In the future, the gospel would not be for the Jewish people alone but for Gentiles and Jews. It’s important to note that Paul is not rejecting the Jewish people. He is simply saying that if Jewish people cannot accept the gospel, it must be preached to the Gentiles as well.

By the time Paul and Barnabas reached Iconium, the basic strategy they would follow for the rest of Paul’s career had been established: the gospel would be preached both to Jews and to Gentiles (parentheses one). Even though there was opposition, Paul and Barnabas continued to preach, and their message was confirmed by the same kinds of signs and wonders that characterize the ministry of Jesus. The result of their ministry was not complete success. Many people continued to reject the gospel.

Paul concluded his first apostolic journey by visiting Lystra and Derby. In Lystra, he encountered one of the most challenging temptations of any Christian leader: the people thought he was a God (14:11-13). Paul immediately rejected the thought that he or Barnabas were anything but ordinary human beings:

We are also only human like you. We are bringing you good news, telling you to turn from these worthless things to the living God, who made the heavens, the earth, the sea, and everything in them.In the past, he let all nations go their way. Yet he has not left himself without testimony: He has shown kindness by giving you rain from heaven and crops in their seasons; he provides you with plenty of food and fills your hearts with joy (14:15-17).

Notice the emphasis on the kindness and mercy of God to pagans as well as believers.

Conclusion

There are important lessons to be learned from Paul’s First Missionary Journey, not the least: important things are often invisible when they occur. I doubt if many important people, Jewish, Roman, or otherwise, took much notice of a little band proclaiming a gospel at the fringes of the Roman Empire. Most of those who heard of their missionary journey probably discounted it. Nevertheless, it is one of the most critical events in human history. This should give ordinary Christians hope as they go about their daily lives. Just because a good deed is invisible does not mean that it’s not important or does not have eternal significance. Every act of love does have eternal significance.

When thinking about Paul’s first missionary journey, it is essential to remember that you have to start somewhere. I have a tendency not to start a project unless I convince myself that it’s very, very important and bound to be very, very successful. This is a big mistake. Sometimes, you must start small, experience opposition, and perfect your message before accomplishing your desired goals. Every lawyer has a first case. Every preacher has a first sermon. Every writer has a first book. Every entrepreneur has a first business. They are often not the last or the most successful, but they have the distinction of being the first.

Third, every Christian mission needs a strategy—an overall goal, such as preaching to Jews and Gentiles—and tactics, such as going to synagogues first. This principle may seem difficult to translate into ordinary Christian discipleship. However, I think it’s an important principle. A strategy might be, “I would like to reach out in my neighborhood.” The tactic might be, “I will invite my friends for dinner. Maybe we can get into a discussion about Christ.” Hopefully, readers will get the idea. To us, it may seem evident that Paul needed to begin by preaching and synagogues, but I’m not sure it was that obvious to first-century people. A reasonable mini-wise observer might have said, “Don’t do that, Paul. If you do, you’ll cause a big fight and have a lot of trouble.”

This leads to a final observation: No good project can be accomplished without encountering some kind of opposition. People will say, “It’s too expensive.” People will say, “We don’t have the time.” People will say, “We don’t have the contacts.” People will give a lot of reasons why good projects shouldn’t begin. I have a good friend in ministry and mentor who, in a time of conflict about a new project, advised me, “Chris, only count the yes votes.” It was good advice.

Copyright 2024, G. Christopher Scruggs, All Rights Reserved

For by grace, you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them (Ephesians 2:8-10)

One of my past meditations from Bonheoffer had to do with work. In his book, No Rusty Swords, he talks about work: “God has called each one of us to do his work in his time.” [1] In his later years, Bonhoeffer realized the importance of lay ministry and the ministry of the people of God in the world. In commenting on this passage, Charles Ringma comments:

We are not simply to be guardians of the good things that God has done in the past, nor are we only those who pray for what may happen in the future. We need to be intimately involved in the issues of our time. Different members of the Christian church will identify these issues differently. However we arrange our priorities for our world, we must include caring for God’s creation, encouraging good government, sharing the Gospel, and proclaiming justice and righteousness. [2]

This passage contains some profound and essential teachings. First, Christians cannot just worship on Sunday, study our Bibles, and pray about the problems of our world. We must work on making the world a better place as the Kingdom of God enters the world through believers’ lives. Second, we cannot wait for complete agreement among Christians before we act. Different believers will see the world differently. Finally, we must all share our faith and speak out for justice and righteousness, public and private. We must all care for God’s creation. We must all work for better government and lives for those around us.

We must all tend to the garden that God has given us, whether large or small, significant or insignificant.  The Bible begins with the human race in a garden we call “Eden.” Some Christians speak of Eden as if it was a place where there was no need to work. Genesis tells us something about this garden:

 And God blessed them. And God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens, and every living thing that moves on the earth (Genesis 1:28).

Genesis 2 puts it this way, “The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and keep it.” (Genesis 2:15). It would seem that work was not a curse—it is our resentment that is the curse of sin. Work was a part of God’s intention for the human race.

When I was a lawyer, I hardly ever worked in our yard. I was also at the office or trying to make up for it with the family. As a seminary student, I had no time. Then we moved to Brownsville, Tennessee and our first church. Surrounded by farmers and gardeners on every side (and with plenty of guidance, advice, and good counsel at hand, for which I am thankful), I planted a garden in the backyard of the manse and later on in our home. When we moved to Memphis, my training in Brownsville allowed me to do most of the landscaping. Based on all this, I can tell my readers one unavoidable truth: Gardening, even in paradise, is hard work, especially on a hot, muggy summer day in the American Southwest.

We human beings were made for work. We were made for the work of making the world a better place. We were made to till the garden of God’s good creation. We were made to expend the energy, strength, and brains that God has given us in the precise way we can best do that. We were made and remade in Christ “for the good works God prepared for us beforehand to do” (Ephesians 2:10).

Labor Day Weekend

Labor Day happens to be one of my favorite holidays. This is the weekend we celebrate the working people of America. Labor Day reminds us of all the endless generations of farmers who built a nation of plenty out of the wilderness. Labor Day reminds us of those who opened the West, built the transcontinental railways, created the most significant manufacturing nation in the world, and made our nation the “Arsenal of Democracy” at a time of great danger to freedom. Labor Day reminds us of those who, even today, work and sweat so that we might live in peace and plenty.

Those of us who have jobs we call “White Collar” need to approach Labor Day with humility. Interestingly, Jesus does not seem to have wanted to enter history either as a religious professional or as a “teacher of the law,” the two careers I have embraced. He speaks ill of them both from time to time. He was content to be born and trained as a carpenter. Jesus was a laborer, and his life, death, and resurrection sanctified all laborers and all honest labor. It is quite likely that God never intended any of us, of whatever abilities, to escape manual labor completely.

The New Monastics

For several weeks, I’ve been meditating on what Benedictine monasticism offers modern people. I’ve mentioned Leslie Newbiggin’s summary of the monastic life as a daily and weekly cycle of study, prayer, and manual work. [3] I hope to be able to write more about the importance of work. We live in a time when pendants proclaim that one day, artificial intelligence, robots, and a host of labor. Saving devices will render most people unemployed. I think that’s a terrible thing to contemplate. I like to say that the economy doesn’t exist to make a few people very rich and many idle. The economy exists to make wholesome work available to the maximum number of people.

Even if we could eliminate work as an unnecessary part of human life, it would not be a blessing. It would be a tragedy and a curse. One need not look any further than the very wealthy or privileged children to understand that work is essential for developing character, physical and emotional health, and a sense of well-being and self-worth.

The monastic division of the day into prayer, study, and work was not simply an accommodation to the necessity of providing for the community’s needs. Of course, it did provide for the needs of the community. Work provides for a person’s and their family’s needs by participating in the greater economy of the community as a whole. Work is a part of that web of relationships by which we, human beings, use our natural talents and abilities and participate in the society of which we are a part. Work is not a curse—it is a blessing.

In her excellent book, Wisdom Distilled from the Daily: Living the Rule of St. Benedict Today, Joan Chittester gives a sustained teaching about the rule, including the rule as it pertains to work. [4] She points out two misconceptions that every human being, including contemplatives, must live with. The first is exemplified by workaholics, who sacrifice everything: family, friendships, and even a relationship with God for work, money, status, and success. The second is exemplified by those who see work as a hindrance to enjoying the “higher things in life,” such as time to think, study, recreation, or whatever a person considers more important than work. In religious people, this can be regarded as “pseudo-contemplation.” Some people make work their God. When we do this, most of us don’t explain it to ourselves that way, but it’s true. We’ve decided that work is the most essential thing in our lives.

On the other hand, some people believe work hinders some greater good, even a spiritual good. These people are pseudo-contemplative or pseudo-religious. They seek pleasure and recreation to avoid work. In my life, I have known highly religious people who shortchanged their employers on the theory that it was more important to do “God’s work.” This is a great mistake. Our work, the work we do daily to make a living, is God’s work. As Chittester puts it,

Laziness and irresponsibility are forms of injustice and thievery. They take from the people of the earth. We were not put on the earth to be cared for. We were put on earth to care for it. [5]

Between the two extremes of workaholism and false spirituality, many of us devalue or overestimate work. Part of the Christian life is achieving a balance between over and undervaluing work.

In concluding her chapter, Chittester summarizes a Benedictine view of work as follows:

• Work is my gift to the world.
• Work is the way I am saved from total self-centeredness.
• Work gives me a place in God’s economy of salvation.
• Work in the Benedictine vision is to build community.
• Work leads to self-fulfillment as we use our gifts and abilities.
• Work has its own asceticism (discipline).
• Work finally is a way in which we live in poverty and solidarity with the poor. [6]

This last may seem a bit difficult to understand. If we think that part of what we earn is to be given away for the service of God and other people, then, in a sense, we achieve a kind of poverty, a kind of solidarity with the poor.

Conclusion

Perhaps it is true that the human race is reaching a point where many people will be able to live lives of constant leisure while others provide for them. Possibly, those others will be artificial intelligence or robots. Somehow, I doubt that’s going to be the case. Even if it were to be possible, however, it’s a bad idea. We were meant to worship God. We were meant to be in a relationship with God. We were meant for prayer, spiritual reading, and study. We were also meant to put what we know and feel into practice daily as we work and till the garden into which we have been placed.

Copyright 2024, G. Christopher Scruggs, All Rights Reserved

[1] Dietrich Bonhoeffer, No Rusty Swords (New York, NY: Harper and Row, 1977). This book is a collection of Bonhoeffer’s writings on various subjects.

[2] Charles Ringma, Seize the Day with Dietrich Bonhoeffer (Colorado Springs, CO: Pinion Press, 2000), reading for August 25.

[3] Lesslie Newbigin, Proper Confidence: Faith, Doubt, and Certainty in Christian Discipleship (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1995), 13.

[4] Joan Chittester, Wisdom Distilled from the Daily: Living the Rule of St. Benedict Today (San Francisco, CA: Harper & Row, 1990), Chapter 7.

[5] Id, at 87.

[6] Id, at 92-93.

A couple of weeks ago, I began a series on the Benedictine Rule, as it might be, lived out in ordinary life. Last week, I mentioned that the roots of the rule are a life structured around prayer, Bible study, and work. In a monastery, there’s almost always an opportunity for physical labor by many people. There are also a number of tasks that require intellectual labor. For example, in the Middle Ages, many monks worked in the fields while others copied manuscripts. The key was finding work appropriate for each member of the order. This week, I am focused on Christian action and the work we do day by day in the name of Christ.

One reason for this week’s focus is how Kathy and I spent the last few days. Beginning last Thursday and until yesterday evening, we were in Oaxaca, Mexico. Our first reason for being there was primarily a conference held by a local Presbyterian Church called “MexEd.” MexEd is an annual conference sponsored by churches that participate in what is known as the AMO program in Mexico. A second reason for being in Oaxaca was that this very same church is a leader in what is called “MoviPres,” which involves a movement of indigenous churches to strengthen Presbyterian churches in Mexico.

Feeding Children in Love through AMO

AMO. is an acronym for “Feed My Lambs” because in Romance languages, including Spanish, the verb “amo” means “I love.” The AMO Program is designed to cultivate a classically informed Biblical worldview, Christian mindset, Christian imagination, and Christian conscience in children ages 6-14. The founders of AMO desired to create a curriculum that would restore the heart-to-heart and mind-to-mind relationship between parents and children in the classroom and a unified experience of community love, education, and character formation focused on strengthening families and helping children, many of whom are in poorer countries develop the character and abilities to achieve success in life.

Moving Churches into Action through MoviPres

MoviPres began in the Presbyterian Church of Mexico and is a training vehicle by which local churches, presbyteries, and higher governing bodies in Mexico can be trained to share the gospel and grow. One of the things that first attracted me to MoviPres is that the strategy is very similar to that recommended by Crisis of Discipleship: Renewing the Art of Christian Disciple-Making [1]and embodied in a book that Kathy and I wrote entitled Salt and Light: Every Day Discipleship. [2] When I first read the curriculum produced by MoviPres, I could see that they had designed an excellent strategy for the disciple-making situation in Mexico.

Our church in San Antonio began developing a relationship with The AMO Program many years ago. In recent years, our partners have introduced us to MoviPres. We were in Mexico partially because MoviPres has agreed to help strengthen churches along the border inside the United States in South Texas, and we needed to work out some details concerning how we might go about this.

Four Long Days

On the first day, we toured the lovely city where the conference would be held. Located in the mountains south and east of Mexico City, Oaxaca is part of one of the poorest areas in Mexico. Nevertheless, the city is beautiful, and the climate is lovely at this time of the year. (It was 100° in San Antonio while we were gone and about 77 degrees at the high in the mountains where we were. It rained every afternoon for just a few minutes before evening came when the temperatures were usually around 60 degrees.) We rapidly discovered that the architecture was beautiful, the food was terrific, and the people were friendly and happy to explain their culture and heritage.

The highlight of the first morning was touring the “Templo de Santo Domingo de Guzmán,” the most famous church in Oaxaca. There is also a lovely Cathedral located in the city’s central plaza. The Santo Domingo church has Roman Catholic heritage, stunning architecture, and dramatic inlaid pillars and statutes. For this part of the day, our hostess was a delightful young woman, Majo, who received a scholarship from Biblicus Mexico, which I will discuss later, and who studied in South Texas, where she also worked and engaged in mission.

The Conference and Meetings

In the late afternoon, we met with our hosts to plan a conference in South Texas sometime this fall or next spring and to work out some details that had become confusing. This meeting, as well as the conference, was held at Amor y Proclamación Presbyterian Church. What a comparison there is between the ancient and lovely architecture of the Catholic churches and the simplicity of Amor y Proclamación, which meets in rented facilities that used to be a nightclub. The people in the church have worked tirelessly to reconfigure the building as a church and educational facility.

 Around 5:00 in the evening, the conference began. Around 100 lay people from all over Mexico, but mainly from the south of Mexico City, attended the meeting. They were there to learn how to start or expand an AMO program in their church and understand their culture better.

There were four kinds of speakers during the conference, which lasted two full days, morning until night:

• Speakers concentrated on the cultural situation in Mexico and much of the world.
• Speakers that concentrated on the theory behind AMO.
• Speakers that gave practical discussions concerning how to begin and operate an AMO program.
• The church pastor who sponsored the mixed event is also the president of MoviPres.

The main speaker, Eric Tucker, is a professor of philosophy in Florida who was a missionary in Mexico for many years. Eric was born in Michigan and raised in Mexico. Throughout his life, he has lived and worked in various parts of Latin America, spending more time in Latin America than in the US. His doctorate is in Intercultural Studies with a minor in Adult Education. He teaches various courses, all related in some way to ethics, including Professional and Healthcare Ethics, Business Administration, World Religions, Organizational Behavior, Leadership, Managing Cultural Diversity, Service Learning, and other Honors College courses. His focus is teaching students to grow in love with learning and develop their unique abilities and calling. He discussed the barriers to transmitting Christianity and basic moral principles in contemporary society, particularly the academic and political culture prevalent in Mexico and Latin America. He stayed in our hotel, and we became friends. He was quite good.

The second speaker is the woman who runs the AMO program not just in Mexico but for most of Latin America and the Caribbean. Francelia Chavez de McReynolds helps with our church’s various ministries in Mexico and works full-time with AMO. She and her husband, Chris, live about half the year in South Texas and half the year in Mexico. Raquel Cahuich, a scholarship recipient from another program our church has sponsored called “Biblicus Mexico,” spoke on the challenges of curriculum design in Mexico. Finally, and most impressively, a group of women in charge of AMO programs all over Mexico spoke about various parts of the challenges in starting and maintaining such a program.

I want to stop momentarily to describe this particular group of speakers further. As I’ve already said, all the speakers were good; some were highly educated and competent. This last group of speakers was, to me, the most impressive. Most of them spoke with few or no notes. Some of the talks were as long as 45 minutes. Each woman was open, frank, informative, highly intelligent, and fluent. I was sitting there most of the time wondering if most American churches could field such a robust speaking group of laypersons! It was, for me, the most inspiring part of the conference.

Our host for the conference is a very unusual and talented person. Trained as a medical doctor, a profession he continues to practice, Rev. Josias Luna took off time in midlife to come to the United States and study theology. Upon his return to Mexico, he planted the church Amor y Proclamación. Rev. Luna and his wife, Elizabeth, introduced their congregation to AMO in 2012. Josias and Elizabeth established the program in Oaxaca and enrolled to become certified AMO trainers in Mexico several years later. Today, they are leaders in the AMO program in Mexico.

The Lunas are a wonderful couple, and they hosted us for dinner the last evening after their exhausting leadership of the conference. The Lunas experienced growth as they emphasized Biblical, Christian education in their family. The couple recruited a team and shepherded its practical implementation in the church. After twelve years of successful discipleship in their family and church, they are on the Amo training faculty, instructing classes to form other Spanish-speaking AMO teachers.

Kathy and Mexico

Through the efforts of my wife, Kathy, we have been able to develop friendships and ministry partners throughout Mexico. She spends endless hours on the telephone and the computer coordinating various ministry opportunities of our church in Mexico. This trip was the beginning of new initiatives and the completion of older mission objectives.

Why I Wrote This

I began this blog discussing Saint Benedict and the structure of monastic life. Contemporary churches often focus on teaching. Pastors spend most of their time teaching. This leads inevitably to the church’s focus on transmitting biblical knowledge and theology. After many years of ministry, I’ve come to the view that the purpose of the church is to embody Christ in a local community. The pastor’s purpose is to draw people into discipleship in the church so that they may reflect Christ in their everyday lives. This inevitably involves a lot of work.

Mission occurs every day, wherever we are and in whatever we choose to do. The question is, “What kind of mission am I doing?” The rhythm of prayer, study, and work is essential as we transmit the love of Christ into the world that so desperately needs it. For many years, I have followed a kind of rule of life that divided my day into prayer, exercise, study, and work. In retirement, I’ve tried to keep roughly the same balance, though I now have more time for exercise than was possible while practicing law or engaged in ministry. The only difference is that I don’t get paid for most of my labor!

Copyright 2024, G. Christopher Scruggs, All Rights Reserved

[1] G. Christopher Scruggs, Crisis of Discipleship: Renewing the Art of Relational Disciple-Making Revised and Expanded version (Richmond Virginia: Living Dialogue, 2024).

[2] G. Christopher and Kathy Scruggs, Salt & Light: Every Day Discipleship (Collierville, TN: Innovo Publishing, 2024).

Last week, I dealt with the description by Alisdair MacIntire of Western Civilization as invaded by the New Barbarians and waiting for a kind of “New St. Benedict.” Naturally, many Christian writers have taken up the call. I’m not immune from this temptation. MacIntyre has warned that he does not mean this to be taken in a narrow or fundamentalist way. This week, I will continue with this blog, primarily taken from my book, Path of Life, as we investigate how we got into this situation in the first place. [1]

Christians in Early 21^st Century America

Alisdair MacIntyre begins his book, After Virtue, with a story. [2] “Imagine,” he says, “that the natural sciences were to suffer the effects of a catastrophe.” He goes on to describe an environmental disaster that is unfairly blamed on the scientific community. After riots, acts of violence, deaths, and destruction, a “know nothing” party takes control and abolishes the teaching of science in schools and universities. The remaining scientists are imprisoned. After some time, there is a change in public mood, and a few leaders attempt to restore and revive the scientific community, though hardly anyone remembers exactly how science was practiced. All that remains are fragments of the outstanding achievements of the past.

Slowly but surely, the group attempts to restore science as a discipline, but it isn’t easy. No real scientists are remaining to lead the effort. There are no remaining university departments of physics, chemistry, biology, and the like. Only fragments of the body of past scientific literature remain. Although some of the theorems of science remain known to scholars, they are disconnected and incomplete. Therefore, they memorize parts of the remaining literature, debate the meanings of specific theories, and attempt to teach children elementary principles of science. Unfortunately, what they are doing does not in any way resemble science.

Then MacIntyre makes his point: Moral thinking in the late 20^th and early 21^st centuries is in just such a condition. From the beginnings of moral inquiry until the Enlightenment, a form of life dominated Western Europe, and a significant body of literature illuminated and analyzed that way of life. Over the past 300 years, the foundations of Western civilization and culture have been eroded in a period of growing skepticism.

What is sometimes called “Judeo-Christian Culture” forms the historical foundation of Western life and thinking, but the reality of this culture is far more subtle and complex than its name implies. Jews and Christians were profoundly impacted by various cultures of the ancient world and, most importantly, by that culture we sometimes refer to as “Greco-Roman,” the cultures of ancient Greece and Rome. For example, the writers of  Biblical wisdom literature were deeply impacted by the broader culture of the ancient Middle East, especially Egypt. They, in turn, were affected by other cultures with which they came into contact. By the beginning of the Modern World (circa 1492 A.D.), Medieval culture was already in contact with, and impacted by, Muslim culture. A portion of what we call Greco-Roman literature was mediated to the West by Islamic sources. The culture of the Far East has deeply impacted modern culture. All of this impacted the development of Western Culture in profound ways.

Attack on the Judeo-Christian World-View

Over the past 300 years, that way of life and body of literature has been attacked, questioned, ridiculed, distorted, forgotten, diminished, and shattered. All we possess today are fragments. We continue to use expressions from the past, but we no longer have a practical comprehension of much of this long history, so we have largely lost the actual practices to which the theories referred. The way of life formed by our history has slowly disintegrated. This is true in secular culture. Worse, it is true among Christians. We use the language of faith, but too often, we think, will, choose, and live based on the secular world around us.

Nowhere is the problem of a loss of cultural heritage more apparent than in the church. Church members and leaders often use the traditional language of Christian faith, life, and morality. Still, that language has lost its connection with the concrete reality of their day-to-day lives. Their lives and ours are often formed by the values and lifestyle of a culture increasingly alienated from its roots.

For example, most Christians understand that one of the Ten Commandments prohibits adultery and that marriage is in some sense sacred. Pastors preach sermons on the subject. Members attend Bible studies where the principles are espoused. Guest speakers and cultural commentators speak and write about family values. Christians often send their children to Christian schools where traditional ethics are taught, sometimes too forcefully. Yet, studies show that American Christians have affairs, divorce, and dishonor marriage in pretty much the same way as non-Christians.

Many young people are frankly nonchalant about the Biblical teaching concerning pre-marital sex. As a pastor, I can testify to what young people will say and admit to in a safe environment. Publicly, they mouth the principles of traditional morals—especially in front of their parents and religious leaders. Privately, they find their way around them—or ignore them altogether. They do this because the moral world they truly inhabit is formed by the cultural world in which they live and breathe every moment they are not in church or Bible study. While they know the language of Judeo-Christian culture, they no longer inhabit and live out the reality of it.

Sex is not the only area in which Judeo-Christian culture no longer meaningfully impacts social behavior. Pre-modern societies usually regulated, and perhaps even overregulated, economic life. There was an attempt to regulate economic life so that the rich and poor could live together without one party taking undue advantage of the other. For example, the limitation of interest rates through usury laws was based on religious and moral concerns. Late modern and post-modern societies, capitalist and socialist, have tended to exclude religious and ethical considerations from business and economic policies. The result is that many Christians and Jews employ in their business lives strategies that the Bible and their respective traditions expressly or implicitly condemn.

There is something deeply mistaken with how modern and post-modern people fail to internalize Scripture, the truths of the Christian faith, and the way of life they imply. Even when Christians memorize the foundational texts of the Christian tradition, they often have ceased to express and control the realities of everyday life. On the theological left, the words of Scripture do not have objective content; they express religious feelings. On the theological right, the words of Scripture express a proclaimed inerrant content, an infallible truth that is often mentally accepted but does not impact behavior. In neither case does it seem that these words end up “written on the tablet of the heart” (Proverbs 3:3).

From Enlightenment to Modernity

What went wrong? The story Alystair MacIntyre tells is a hidden retelling of the story of the modern world. There was a time when what might be called Judeo-Christian faith and ethical practices and theories stemming from the works of Plato, Aristotle, St. Augustine, and Thomas Aquinas dominated Western life. The majority of people were Christian, at least in name. The Roman Catholic Church, the monastic orders, and the teachers of the nascent universities in Europe were dominated by the thinking of these great teachers. Yes, there were doubters. Yes, there were other traditions. However, the Christian faith and the ethics of Aristotle, as modified by Thomas Aquinas, reflected an intellectual and moral consensus.

This societal consensus deteriorated during the Renaissance (1500-1600) and Reformation (1517-1648). The Renaissance was a time of rediscovery of the classical Greek tradition. It also laid the foundations for the Reformation’s convulsions. The Reformation was a time of Biblical renewal in faith and morals, but it was also the beginning of the modern questioning of authority, secular and religious. Then, in the 1700’s, the “Enlightenment” began. The Enlightenment was a time when Western Europe discovered the power of human critical reason (Descartes), the method of science (Newton), skepticism towards authority (the French “Philophes”), and belief in human progress (the scientific and industrial revolution).

A central feature of the Enlightenment and the Modern Age has been rejecting tradition, religious institutions (especially the European Roman Catholic Church), and any kind of knowledge that cannot be “proved” by human critical reason. The result has been a loss of the social and religious foundations for moral and ethical reasoning. Although our society is a scientific and technical marvel, it is culturally, intellectually, ethically, morally, and spiritually impoverished—with all the human suffering and damaged lives that the word “poverty” implies.

From Modernity to Post-Modernity

“What does this have to do with me?” some may ask. The answer is simple: the world we live in was created, for better and for worse, by the upheaval of the Enlightenment. We see the wonders of technology and the results of the scientific method. All of us experience the benefits of modern medicine. We all understand the benefits of industrialization and the dramatically increasing living standards. The benefits and progress of the Modern Age have been enormous.

Just as we all experience the benefits of the Modern Age, we also experience its limitations. With the successes of the scientific method, people began to see that method as applicable to all knowledge—and forms of knowledge, such as religious and moral beliefs, that are not susceptible to scientific proof, were often ignored or scorned. With the successes of science and technology, people began to believe that all the problems of human society could be solved by science and its application to human problems.

With the advancement of human society’s material aspects, people began to believe that material progress, often visualized in scientific and industrial terms, was both inevitable and potentially unending. Science and human reasoning, when applied to the problems of human life and existence, would continue to improve human life and provide a final consummation of the human heart’s yearning for meaning, purpose, health, prosperity, goodness, truth, and beauty.

Perhaps most importantly, critical reason, the very center of the Enlightenment project, began to attack the foundations of society itself. It attacked all moral claims and all claims for truth. With the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche and his followers, the principles of the Enlightenment began to be attacked first in the Apartments of philosophy, then in departments of literature, and finally in popular culture as a whole.

The Post-Modern World

Then came the tumults of the Twentieth Century. Two Great Wars, one ending with the use of a weapon that made possible the destruction of civilization, cast doubt upon the inevitability of progress. The destruction of human civilization became as realistic an alternative as its continued progress. The myth of progress and the hope of a human paradise created by science and human reason began to die.

Although scientific innovation continued at an accelerated pace and the standard of living improved in Western Europe and America, people remained the same. Although industrial society continued to develop, socio-economic inequities and environmental degradation troubled many people. Amidst the wealth of the West, doubts and anxiety plagued many people. Much was gained due to the Enlightenment and the Modern Era, but much has been lost.

Until recently, the moral skepticism of intellectual and cultural elites, which emerged during the modern period, impacted only a few people. The moral tradition of the West formed the majority of people. With the increasing importance of the media, the moral values of the few have become the moral values of the many. We now live in a society without consistent and widely accepted personal morality and behavior norms. The results of this phenomenon can be found in every city, town, village, church, school, and neighborhood in America.

Most observers believe that the human race is entering a period that, for now, takes the name “postmodern.” In a way, the name reflects uncertainty concerning the positive aspects of our new cultural environment. All the term “postmodernism” connotes is that the postmodern world is after the modern world. In some ways, we can’t see what the postmodern world is or will be like in the future; we only know that the modern era is over. What is to come is unclear.

The pillars of the Enlightenment were (1) confidence in human critical and scientific reason, (2) a faith that human reason, and especially the scientific method, would usher in a kind of Golden Age in which many of the world’s most vexing problems were once and forever solved, (3) a belief in a universal morality discernible by reason alone, and (4) hostility towards tradition, traditional forms of life, and traditional religion.

Each of these pillars of Enlightenment thinking crumbled under the pressure of the wars and violence of the 20^thcentury, the terrible suffering inflicted by the ideological regimes of Nazism and Communism, and the perception that Western Capitalism is itself a kind of ideology that has destructive impacts on the environment and local cultures. Philosophically, the critical posture of philosophers from Nietzsche to the present, and especially the advocates of what is sometimes called “deconstructionism,” further undermined a belief in universal reason and morality. Culturally, the growth of education and the rise of what is sometimes called “multiculturalism” further relativized almost any imaginable moral or religious system or belief. [3]

Back to the question, “What does this have to do with me?” Although few of us ponder the deep religious and philosophical issues raised by modern culture, we live in the boiling social and cultural cauldron of its results. Many of our grandparents and great-grandparents grew up in rural communities. Our parents and grandparents built great industries and the cities their growth required. Today, all over the world, many people live in giant metropolises. Most of us live in relatively large cities. Some of us live in great conglomerations of cities, including New York-Washington, Houston-Dallas-San Antonio, and the San Francisco-Los Angeles-San Diego corridors.

Most of us do not live near relatives, parents, aunts, uncles, and grandparents in close-knit extended families. Let’s listen to or watch the media. We see it played-out lifestyles deeply at odds with not only traditional Judeo-Christian lifestyles but also profoundly at odds with the cultural traditions of Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, or almost any other traditional cultural norm. Day after day, the popular media, driven by advertising, promotes a culture that is deeply materialistic, deeply romantic, deeply sensual, and (despite its claims to reasonableness) deeply unreasonable. Those who work in social service agencies, churches, and other religious areas see daily the impact of our shared culture on the lives of ordinary people.

For a long time during the Enlightenment and much of the Modern world, losing contact with a tradition of faith and morals did not devastatingly impact culture. Ordinary people continued to go to church or synagogue. They grew up with their character formed by the saga of Israel, Christ, and the Church. They read Plutarch’s “Lives of the Noble Romans and Greeks.” People knew the old songs and old stories. They lived in a world formed by a heritage that began when God appeared to Abraham and Socrates walked the streets of Athens. Though intellectual and cultural elites had long ago given up the faith that formed them, they were still formed by the heritage they rejected.

With the advent of modern media and the pervasive impact of movies, television, and the internet, all this has changed. Another story—a story deeply incoherent but filled with seductive images of wealth, power, violence, and pleasure—forms the character of not just a few but of the many. We now live in the aftermath of that cultural and moral disaster, a disaster precisely like the one MacIntyre describes. At best, we live among the fragments of a cultural past. Most of us live among its bombed-out ruins, like survivors of the great bombings of the Second World War in Britain, France, Germany, or Japan.

Our life among the ruins of Western Civilization breeds rootlessness in many different ways. It is the author’s conviction that the deepest need of our culture is to reconnect with the traditional wisdom of the ancient world. This does not mean that we must jettison or reject the accomplishments of the modern world. It does not mean retreating into a pre-modern culture. It means reaching deep beyond and before Modernity into the cultural traditions from which the modern world emerged to recover the best and most important part of what has been lost. In the West, this involves reaching deep into the Judeo-Christian tradition and the secular roots of our culture found in the culture of Greece and Rome. Under the cultural conditions of the West today, it also means reaching into other cultures’ wisdom and moral traditions in the quest for knowledge and moral truth.

A Return to Leslie Newbigin

This is where I return to Lesslie Newbigin and his book, Proper Confidence. [4] In Proper Confidence, Newbigin outlines the importance of Benedict for Western history. Born into that period we called the “Dark Ages,” Benedict created an order that modeled a form of Christian life appropriate to an agricultural and primarily rural economy, forming one of the bedrock institutions of the Middle Ages. In the process, as his monasteries spread all across Europe, the population of Europe was given a visual, embodied example of the kind of society that Christians could flourish in. In addition, the network of monasteries, Benedictine and otherwise, allowed Christian civilization to spread throughout Europe.

Benedict was not a revolutionary. He built upon the work of others who had preceded him, particularly Pachomius, John Cassian, and Augustine. Here is how Newbigin describes his achievement:

The Benedictine rule, with its balanced combination of prayer, manual work, and study was firmly based on the Bible. At the center of the life of each community was the continual reading of the Bible, both in study and in the worship of the community. The biblical story came to be the one story that shaped the understanding of who we are, where we come from, and where we are going. In the constant remembering of the great events of creation and salvation through the liturgical year, in the popular drama of the streets, and in the pictures that surrounded the congregation as they gathered for worship, it was the story that was their mental framework, the story that defined human life and its meaning and destiny. [5]

When Alistair McIntyre invites us to await the coming of a new Benedict, I don’t think he’s inviting us to wait for the return of St Benedict and the conversion of Western civilization to a pre-modern state. Unlike in Benedict’s Europe, most people today do not live in ruled areas or engage in agriculture as a way of life. More and more frequently, people live in cities today, and the world population is centered in great metropolitan areas of such size and complexity that would have been unimaginable even a century ago.

Nevertheless, we have much to learn from St. Benedict. I suggest that whatever emerges amidst the ruins of modern civilization will have a monastic look. Prayer and meditation will sit at the foundation of life. The value of manual labor will be reestablished, especially as artificial intelligence does many tasks previously done by intellectual laborers. Finally, the great religious traditions of the world, if they can learn to work together, we’ll have a place. For Christians, this means that the Bible’s story of God, who is both wisdom and love, will sit at the center of the life recommended by our new St. Benedict.

Copyright 2024, G. Christopher Scruggs, All Rights Reserved

[1] G. Christopher Scruggs, Path of Life (Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2014).

[2] Alisdair MacIntyre, After Virtue 2^nd ed. (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1984), 1.

[3] For a Christian introduction to Post Modernism, see Gene Edward Veith, Postmodern Times: A Christian Guide to Contemporary Thought and Culture (Irvine, CA: Crossway Books, 1994).

[4] Lesslie Newbigin, Proper Confidence: Faith, Doubt & Certainty in Christian Disicpleship (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans 1995).

[5] Id, 13.

This week, I return to one of my earlier books for this blog every so often. Almost everything I have written was published initially as part of this blog, but the precise chapter I will be visiting was written before I had a blog. The reason it’s on my mind is because twice in the last week, people have mentioned Alastair McIntyre’s After Virtue to me, which has been a very important book in my intellectual growth. [1]In one case, a professor was talking to me about his students. He began to speak about most of his students’ characterological and emotional issues. His statement to me was something like, “Every new class seems to be more dysfunctional and to have more difficulty conceiving of any kind of a disciplined moral life. I think it has to do with our educational system and how it has abandoned the teaching virtues over the last century. This is not just true in the United States, but worldwide where Western civilization has been important.” The second person with whom I spoke was interested in a comment by Leslie Nubin that Saint Benedict reacted to the decline of the Roman Empire and the institutional corruption of the church to create a new way of life that could penetrate the largely rural Europe of his day. I was thinking about the rule of Saint Benedict and its meaning for us today.

A New St. Benedict?

Near the end of After Virtue, MacIntyre cryptically speaks of the end of Western Civilization as we know it and of a “new dark age” in which we now live. This New Dark Age is characterized by a loss of faith in truth and the reality of spiritual and moral values. Its results are seen in our societies’ pervasive spiritual and moral decay and the loss of confidence in our institutions. MacIntyre ends his book with no answer, only a general direction in which Western culture might go:

What matters at this stage is the construction of local forms of community within which civility and intellectual and moral life can be sustained through the new dark ages which are already upon us. And if the tradition of virtues was able to survive the last dark ages, we are not entirely without grounds for hope. This time, however, the barbarians are not waiting beyond the frontiers; they have already been governing us for some time. And, it is our lack of consciousness of this that constitutes part of our predicament. We are waiting not for a Godot, but for another—doubtless very different—St. Benedict. [2]

In this short conclusion, McIntyre gives just a clue as to our predicament and the probable way Western society might escape the New Dark Age.

Benedict of Nursia (493-547) lived at the end of the Roman era when the world was moving from one cultural milieu to another. The classical world was over. The culture created by Greece and Rome had burned itself out. What we call the Fall of Rome ended a long period of decay as the classical world came to its political, intellectual, moral, and religious end. During Benedict’s lifetime, Western had already entered a dark time of cultural dissolution and decay.

There are many parallels between Europe at the time of Benedict and our culture. We also live at a juncture in history. The modern world is over. Something different is emerging, a culture we call post-modern, but it is too early to tell precisely what this new culture will be like.

Amid this turbulent period—St. Benedict created a rule and a form of life that gave order to Catholic monasticism. [3]The achievements of St. Benedict and the other Roman Catholic reformers who created the culture of the Middle Ages were not revolutionary. Benedict believed in the truth of orthodox Christian faith and the adequacy of the morality of the Bible and the Christian tradition. His task, unlike that of the new barbarians among us, was not to create a “new religion,” “new morality,” or “new society,” but to establish the religion, morality, and society of the pre-modern world upon more secure intellectual and practical foundations. Benedict was the inheritor and protector of a tradition.

Fundamental to St. Benedict’s program was that the church and society of his day could not be renewed without a visible picture of what a renewed society might look like. The medieval orders were a kind of embodied picture of what could be—of what the Roman Catholic Church could look like and what a wise society built on the foundations of Christian faith and practice might look like. The monks lived out their notion of what a renewed Christendom might look like.

The Medieval orders were primarily a way of life structured through an institution (the order and monastery) where individuals found meaning and a place in a society where spiritual values lay at the center of human life. Their days were punctuated by work, worship, and rest. One can critique the success of the orders in achieving their program, but at least they attempted it. For countless people within and without the orders, they were the source of a life with meaning and purpose devoted to God, truth, beauty, and virtue.

A Life Structured Around Scripture

Benedict, like the Protestant Reformers after him, shaped a way of life structured around the Bible and the story of the Bible. Protestants often critique the Catholic orders as “unbiblical.” This prejudice cannot survive a day of living in a community structured by reading Scripture and worshiping God. A renewed Western Civilization that does not spring from a renewed commitment to a life structured around the Biblical story and Christian faith is unlikely to impact our culture in a powerful and lasting way. At the center of any life lived by indwelling the Christian story is the figure of Christ, the Word and Wisdom of God revealed in human flesh for all to see.

Much post-modern criticism has been levied on the foundational texts of Western civilization. In its most infantile form, it critiques a society created by “Dead White Men.” This, of course, ignores the facts. The “Children of Abraham and Sarah” and the writers of the Old Testament were Semites. The “Eastern Fathers” were not European and included women and men. Augustine was North African. The body of literature they created is a culturally diverse text.

To reconstruct a stable and wise Western world in Europe and America, it will be necessary to recover the foundational texts of Western culture and add new texts of wisdom as time goes by. In the face of multiculturalism, it will even be necessary to reach deep into the wisdom literature of other cultures and incorporate their wisdom into our thinking. Most importantly, any new Benedict must recover the Bible and its language in such a way that it becomes written on the hearts of contemporary men and women.

A Life Structured Around Worship

The monastic life was and is structured around worship. The monastic day is structured around the “hours” and the regular worship, not just weekly but throughout the day. For Western civilization to recover a sense of the Holy and of human relationship with the Holy, it will have to recover a desire for worship and for a life that finds its structure and meaning in regular cycles of worship involving families, local religious bodies, and even larger communities of faith.

Secular culture has resulted in a society in which the Sabbath, a day set aside for worship and rest, is a thing of the past, practiced by a few dedicated souls. What used to be “Holy Days,” in which families gathered to worship and celebrate the foundations of their faith, have become, even for many Christians, days to eat and drink to excess and watch sports. Such a culture soon forgets the sanctity and the holiness of family life.

A Way Recognizing the Moral Nature of Life

Modern culture is rapidly proving the intuition of the ancients that a society without a moral and ethical center must inevitably disintegrate into political, economic, and cultural chaos. Much of our culture is built upon a false exaltation of “individual choice” and a failure to see the reality of personal wisdom and virtue. To say that wisdom, faithfulness, justice, equity, sobriety, and other values are fundamental values is to say they have existence and potency whether or not any particular individual accepts or recognizes them. It is to say that there is something like a natural law operative in the world—a reality we cannot ignore without consequences.

C. S. Lewis speaks helpfully of this law in his book Mere Christianity:

The Moral Law, or the Law of Human Nature, is not simply a fact about human behavior in the same way the Law of Gravitation is, or may be, simply a fact about how heavy objects behave. On the other hand, it is not a mere fancy, for we cannot get rid of the idea, and most of the things we say and think about men would be reduced to nonsense if we did. And it is not simply a statement about how we should like men to behave for our own convenience; for the behavior we call bad and unfair is not exactly the same as behavior we find inconvenient, and in fact may even be the opposite. Consequently, this Rule of Right and Wrong, or Law of Human Nature, or whatever you want to call it, must somehow or another be a real thing—a thing that is really there and not made up by ourselves. [4]

Lewis goes on to point out that there is more than one kind of reality. The reality of truth, beauty, and goodness press in on us whether we recognize it or not. [5] The moral universe presses upon us whether we recognize it or not. We cannot safely ignore it without pain to ourselves and the dissolution of our society.

To say that anything is real is to say that it exists independently of our subjective perception and impacts the quality of life of those who come into contact with it. It is in this exact way that wisdom and foolishness operate. Those who cease to see the difference between wisdom and foolishness, righteousness and wickedness, or virtuous and lewd behavior cannot make the decisions necessary to achieve a happy and whole life. Those who cease to feel that the wisest course of action will be revealed to them by the practice of the virtues are left without the ability to react to the moral nature of the universe, which, in fact, presses upon us all.

A Way of Life Involving Order

The Benedictine renewal involved orders that followed rules that resulted in a particular way of life. The way of life the members of the Benedictine order thought they were recovering was the Way of Jesus as they understood it. Any recovery of ordered life in the postmodern world will likely be accompanied by people banding together to embody a different way of life than common in our society.

Modern readers of the Rule can be put off by its detail concerning the structure of daily life and the relationships among monks. It is helpful to recognize that Benedict was reacting against the disorder not just of his society but of the monastic orders themselves as he created the Rule. The Rule’s success is proof of its power and importance as a kind of pattern with the power to order human life wisely.

The historic Way of Wisdom provides one avenue for ordinary people to explore in their daily lives to discipline themselves to find a better and more satisfying way of life than that urged upon us by the media and by the cultural arbiters of post-modern society. A rediscovery of the value of faith, tradition, and traditional ways of ordering life would result in persons from many parts of the Christian tradition re-thinking and re-ordering their lives in many ways. A Christian re-discovery of the wisdom tradition would almost certainly cause other traditions to rediscover their own wisdom resources. There may, therefore, be not so much a need for one new St. Benedict as for many. What is certain is that the excessively individualistic and excessively disordered structure of contemporary society does not provide a viable path forward.

A Way of Life Founded in Family

Recovery of a wise and healthy culture in the West cannot be accomplished without a renewal of the basic unit of society. It has been pointed out that families in the West, especially families in America, are notoriously weak. Without strengthening family life, it is difficult to imagine that community life can be strengthened in the West, especially in America.

Our capacity to live in community is formed in the first community we are a part of. If wisdom literature is correct concerning the crucial role of the family, then the most basic renewal that is needed is in the family’s life. The new St. Benedicts among us will have to find ways to express a wiser and more orderly way of life in the context of concrete human families.

A Way of Life Founded in Community

During one of America’s recent political conventions, one person was reported to have said, “Our national government is all we have in common.” With due respect for our national government and its leaders, this statement expresses a deep problem with our society. Nation-states are essential, but they are no substitute for families, local communities, and what sociologists call “mediating institutions,” such as churches, synagogues, mosques, temples, private associations, and other local institutions. National governments are no substitute for neighborhood associations, townships, cities, and other local community forms. It is essential that people feel connected to their local community. While no one belongs to all of the possible institutions of local community life, everyone can be happy for their participation and that of others in all of them. A renewed Christian way of life will be founded on the deliberate nurture of communities at all levels of society.

A Life Formed in a Rhythm of Labor and Rest

In much of contemporary society, work has supplanted God, family, and community as the center of life. Especially among the successful, work and its accompanying status and benefits have become idols. In America, success has become the ultimate goal of too many in business, government, the media, academia, and almost all institutions of life.

St. Benedict and his followers created a way of life in which worship, work, community, and rest all find a place. Work is important. In working, human beings fulfill the command to act as stewards of creation and perfect the world entrusted to their special care and nurture (Genesis 1:28). Work is a natural outgrowth of worship. Still, in overworking, we demonstrate a lack of balance that increasingly warps our full humanity.

What is needed is a recovery of the notion of a rhythm of labor and rest. Sabbath-keeping can be essential to this recovery, but it is not enough. A rest day is no substitute for a rhythm of worship, family life, community involvement, work, and relaxation. A renewal of Western culture cannot be accomplished without a renewal of a proper relationship between work and the rest of life.

A Way of Life Founded on Truth

Lesslie Newbigin’s book Truth to Tell: The Gospel as Public Truth contains a powerful critique of contemporary society and an analysis of its roots similar to the one presented in this chapter. [6] Newbigin speaks about how modern society distinguishes between the public world of scientific facts and the private world of religious and moral truths. Newbigin encourages Christians to have the confidence to proclaim the gospel not just as a truth among many truths but as The Truth—a truth embodied in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. He writes this:

But when the Church affirms the gospel as public truth it is challenging the whole of society to wake out of the nightmare of subjectivism and relativism, to escape from the captivity of the self turned in upon itself, and to accept the calling which is addressed to every human being to seek, acknowledge, and proclaim the truth. For we are that part of God’s creation which he has equipped with the power to know the truth and to speak to praise of the whole creation in response to the truthfulness of the Creator.” [7]

In the end, any notion of wisdom requires an idea of truth. To embody the spiritual and moral order of the universe in times of trouble, we must believe in the reality of such an order and, in humility, seek to understand it and adjust our lives to its demands. We will not take any path with confidence and personal commitment, even the Path of Life, unless we believe it will take us to the place we desire to go—to the wise, happy, and fulfilled life.

The post-modern critique of Enlightenment thinking often reduces all claims to truth as bids for power. This critique is sometimes levied against the church and Christian faith. The critique may be valid as to some past actions of the church and Christians, but it cannot be levied against the Christian faith in its essence. The Way and Truth Christians proclaim is the way of the One who came to serve and not be served and rejected worldly power as a temptation (Matthew 20:28; Mark 10:45).

For Christians, a renewal of our culture requires a willingness to serve a culture that is often dismissive of our values and hostile to the lifestyles we practice. The days are long gone when we might achieve cultural change by some act of a non-existent “moral majority.” What is now needed is the hard work and diligent ministry of a wise minority. A renewal of wisdom cannot be legislated; it can only be encouraged. [8]

In the end, the notion of truth that we are called to embody, transmit, and defend is a truth that our society will find almost impossible to understand—it is a truth that can only be known in a community of self-giving love formed in the image of the One who was Truth lifted on a Roman Cross for all the world to see—in the form of a first century Rabbi. It is a truth found in a single person and an indissoluble unity with self-giving love. This personal truth desires to be in relation to every human being that we proclaim.

Copyright 2024, G. Christopher Scruggs, All Rights Reserved

[1] Alistair McIntyre, After Virtue (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1984).

[2]  Id, 263. This portion of the blog comes from the final chapter of my previous work, Path of Life (Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2014).

[3] See, Benedict of Nursia, Rule of St. Benedict in English, Timothy Fry, ed. Collierville, MN, 1982). There are many translations, interpretations and commentaries on the Rule for those who are interested.

[4] C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (London, England: Collins Fontana Books, 1952), 28-29.

[5] Id.

[6] Lesslie Newbigin, Truth to Tell: The Gospel as Public Truth (Grand Rapids, MI & Geneva: William B. Eerdmans and WCC Publications, 1991).

[7] Id, at 13.

[8] Perhaps the fundamental mistake of the movements of the 1960’s, left and right, was the notion that true cultural transformation for the better can be accomplished through legislation and the power of the nation state. This was an especially mistaken approach for Christians. The One who resisted the temptation to rule the kingdoms of this world and who chose instead to die on a cross works primarily not in overt power but in self-giving service to the world.

This week, I wanted to return to discipleship and our calling to follow Jesus. The gospels are full of Jesus, calling people in the Gospel of Mark, which the Sunday school class is currently studying, Jesus begins his ministry along the Sea of Galilee, where he sees four fishermen at work:

Passing alongside the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and Andrew, Simon’s brother, casting a net into the sea, for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you become fishers of men.” And immediately, they left their nets and followed him. Going a little farther, he saw James, the son of Zebedee, and John, his brother, who were in their boat mending the nets. Immediately, they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired servants and followed him(Mark 3:16-20).

In Mark 2, Jesus continues his calling of disciples, now in the home of Matthew, a sinner and tax collector. Here is how Mark records the incident:

He went out again beside the sea, and all the crowd was coming to him, and he was teaching them. And as he passed by, he saw Levi, the son of Alphaeus, sitting at the tax booth, and he said to him, “Follow me.” And he rose and followed him. And as he reclined at a table in his house, many tax collectors and sinners were reclining with Jesus and his disciples, for many followed him. And the scribes of the Pharisees, when they saw that he was eating with sinners and tax collectors, said to his disciples, “Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?” And when Jesus heard it, he said to them, “Those who are well do not need a physician, but those who are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners” (Mark 2:13-17).

Deciding to Follow Jesus

We sometimes think it was easier for the first disciples to follow Jesus. We think that, if we physically saw Jesus, if he came and personally asked us to follow him, we would find it easier to follow than after hearing a pastor, evangelist, or friend share what God has done in their lives and ask us if we are ready to follow Jesus. [1] This is a mistake. People today have to make the same decision the first disciples made. We must decide to follow Jesus without knowing exactly who he is or where he will lead us.

The first disciples had it just as hard as we do. They had families. They had friendships. They had occupations. They already had a religion. They went to the Temple periodically and attended festivals. They probably went to the little synagogue in Capernaum. They had homes and responsibilities. They did not have the gospels or the records of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection we can read and study. They actually had much less information than we have.

One day, a man came up to them and asked them to follow him and become fishers of human beings. At that moment, they had to decide whether to follow or not. The gospels tell us that the disciples heard the invitation, left what they were doing, and followed (Matthew 4:20; Mark 1: 18, 20; Luke 5:11). Somehow, amidst the hustle and bustle of earning a living, caring for spouses, parents, and children, and being engaged in family and civic affairs, the disciples saw something important in Jesus and decided it was worth the risk of following him into the unknown. They did not have it easier than we do. In fact, they had it harder. We can look back at the generations of lives changed, of people healed, of ministries and missions of compassion and care. They had to decide without any of this history. They were the first followers.

We, on the other hand, have examples of people like St. Francis of Assisi, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Mother Teresa, and hosts of others. We have many reasons to know what God can do with one ordinary life. When Jesus called the disciples, the cross, resurrection, and spreading of the gospel, the church’s birth, the example of the martyrs, the evangelization of the world had not occurred. It was all to come. They had to look into an unknown traveling rabbi’s eyes and answer, “Will I follow him or not?”

We are called to answer the same question: “Am I going to follow Jesus?” As we ponder that question, we ask ourselves the same questions the disciples must have asked: “Am I willing to follow Jesus and to trust him in all my daily life?” “Am I willing to give up everything to be a follower of Jesus?” “Am I willing to spend time with this teacher and his rabble band of followers?” “Am I willing to risk the life I know so well for a life of uncertainty?”

Contemporary Discipleship

When Christians affirm that God is personal, and when we proclaim that in the person of Jesus of Nazareth, the word of God was present personally with the human race, we indicate that any relationship with God is personal in nature. This means that the personal calling of the Twelve is no different than our individual calling. Christ is present in the world by the power of the Holy Spirit and still calls people to follow him. It’s a personal calling by a person to a person to become part of the church of Jesus Christ, which in other places is called the family of God or the kingdom of God.

The certainty we have or do not have about our calling is personal. It’s not a mathematical certainty. It’s not a scientific certainty, a kind of law of the universe. It’s a personal call by a personal God to people. The reason I’ve called this the unbelievable calling is because it is unbelievable. I suspect the apostles felt the same way. Let’s just take Matthew as an example. I suppose he would’ve considered himself one of the last people that the Messiah Israel would call to be a disciple and eventually an apostle or one sent to proclaim the word of God to others. He was a sinner. He was a social outcast. He was a person despised by his local community.  Nevertheless, Jesus called him.

Peter might easily have felt the same way. Peter deserted Jesus and denied him. He took himself out of a personal relationship with Jesus when Jesus needed him the most. Yet, after the resurrection, Jesus tells the women to “Go tell the disciples and Peter,” who has made himself no longer a part of the disciples, to meet him in Galilee (Mark 16:7). This same, Peter will be the leader of the apostolic band.

Why It All Makes Sense

At its root, the calling and recalling of Peter only makes sense if God is in some sense personal and therefore capable of being love, as the Apostle John proclaims (I John 4:8). Ideas cannot love; persons can love ideas. Principles cannot love; persons can love principles. Powers cannot love persons; persons can love powers. Only a personal God would be the least interested in a relationship with the human race, in saving them when they are lost and in danger and in recalling them when they have strayed. Such a God could only be known and responded to in the precise way that those first disciples responded to the call to follow Jesus. It was a personal call to persons capable of responding to the call.

How ae we to know such a God? After describing how we know objects, the great missiologist, Lesslie Newbigin describes what we might call personal knowing as follows:

But there is a different kind of knowing which, in many languages, is designated by a different word. It is the kind of knowing that we seek in our relations with other people. In this kind of knowing we are not in full control. We may ask questions, but we must also answer questions put by the other. We can only come to know others in the major in which they are willing to share. The resulting knowledge is not simply our own achievement; it is also the gift of others. And even in the mutual relations of ordinary human beings, it is never complete. There are always further depths of knowledge that only long friendship and mutual trust can reach, if indeed they can be reached at all. [2]

Our culture is so concentrated on achieving a kind of scientific knowledge by which we can control human relations that we often miss the importance of personal knowledge, not just in human relations, one-on-one, but also in social relationships. Societies are made up of persons and are, therefore, only capable of being completely understood in their dimension.

There is no question, but the churches in the West are having difficulty accommodating themselves to the loss of the Christian culture that dominated Europe and the United States from the Roman Empire to the Enlightenment. One reason this is true is our assumption that problems are solved by getting our theories right and then implementing those theories in a scientific and bureaucratic way. Therefore, for example, churches adopt evangelism programs to reduce their membership loss. They seldom work primarily because programs only work if the persons involved can make it work, which they cannot do if they do not have a personal relationship with God and the others to whom they are trying to introduce Christ. Just as bureaucrats in national capitals have difficulty understanding and accommodating themselves to the persons at the lowest level of the society in which they function and for whom they are working, so religious professionals and church leaders have difficulty in taking small personal steps to make cultural changes that may enable their churches to grow.

It seems counterintuitive to many pastors that they should invest themselves in a small group of people, say Twelve church members, when they have 1000 or even 10,000 persons attending their congregation. As many times as one reminds them that Jesus, whom they serve, chose his Twelve and invested his life in those twelve persons, it’s hard, terribly hard, to see how it could work in a corporate church environment. On the other hand, if I’m right, it’s really the only way to change not just the culture of our churches but the culture of the society in which our churches are located. If churches concentrate on the small, and if we succeed, perhaps other social groups and organizations will also focus on the small.

Conclusion

It may seem unbelievable that simply by developing a new personal way of looking at reality, human society, and human persons, we can improve our world and help it overcome some of its deepest dysfunctions. It may still seem unbelievable when we hear that voice calling, “Follow me.” I suspect the apostles sometimes felt it was unbelievable, but they followed and “turned the world upside down,” as one observer put it (Acts 17:6).

Copyright 2024, G. Christopher Scruggs, All Rights Reserved

[1] This portion of the blog is taken from G. Christopher Scruggs, Crisis of Discipleship: Renewing the Art of Relational Disciple-Making Revised and Expanded Edition (Richmond, VA: Living Dialog Ministries, 2024), 37-38.

[2] Lesslie Newbigin, Proper Confidence: Faith, Doubt, & Certainty in Christian Discipleship (Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1995), 10.

This week I am republishing with slight changes a 2020 blog on Augustine and what he can teach us today. This is an important blog because it shows a connection between ancient Greek and Christian notions of justice.

The years between Augustine’s birth and death (354-430 A.D.) encompass one of the most turbulent times in ancient history. The Roman Empire, instituted by Octavian (Caesar Augustus) and his adopted father Julius Caesar, had reached a point of crisis. Constantine declared the Christian religion to be the official religion of the empire in 313 A.D. By the end of the 4th Century, the Empire was troubled. Chronically over-extended, it was vulnerable to attack, which Aleric’s successful invasion clearly demonstrated (410 A.D.).

More importantly, by the end of Augustine’s life, the intellectual and moral foundations of Greco-Roman civilization were seriously eroded. The virtues of the Roman Republic, which Augustine recognized were fundamental to the earthly success of Rome, had long ago eroded. Its pagan rites and religion were no longer compelling. Roman political and social institutions were decayed. There was great economic inequality and successive emperors and those who put them in power had looted the public treasury. The philosophies of ancient Greece that underpinned the intellectual life of Rome were failing. A sense of cultural and political decay was everywhere. This is the context in which Augustine wrote City of God. [1]

In many ways, the time of Augustine was not so different from our own day.  The confident, world-wide extension of Western Civilization, which began about 300 years ago, is now disintegrating into the nihilism and self-doubt of post-modernism.[2] In retrospect, the attack on the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001 was an event that shook American self-confidence in a way similar to Aleric’s three-day occupation of Rome. Modern science, which promised and achieved so much, created the potential for human antihalation and a kind of technological oppression of human freedom that is inhuman. Modern economies, which have produced a standard of living unimaginable only a century ago, have also created a sense of alienation among many people and an ecological crisis of greater or lesser magnitude.

In our nation there is growing economic inequality, and greed and corruption have made many politicians wealthy. There is no way the entire world can consume resources at the level of the currently developed nations without an ecological catastrophe. It is obvious that the way in which the economic growth of the West has occurred cannot continue without some kind of change. Western democracies, the supreme political achievement of the Enlightenment, seem unable to adapt to a new post-industrial culture and give new generations a sense of justice and peace.

Into the his own day, Augustine began the process of integrating the intellectual deposit of Platonic philosophy with the spiritual dynamism of Christian faith, an interaction that ultimately gave rise to the civilization of the European Middle Ages, which ended in the emergence of the Modern world. It is worth studying and adapting the thought of the great Doctor of the Church if for no other reason than the similarities of his and our times and the need for a new synthesis of philosophy, theology, and government. We need a different, new and compelling integration of Christian faith and public life.

Harmony and the Earthly City

One interesting thing inherent in a Biblical look at politics is an understanding that the Bible has less to say about politics than one might imagine. In general, Christians are urged to act wisely, share the gospel, obey rulers and to seek the peace of the cities in which we find ourselves (Jeremiah 29:7; Romans 13:1). This notion of seeking the peace of the cities into which we have been called is important. When the Jews were sent into captivity in Babylon, God sent Jeremiah the following message:

Thus, says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat their produce. Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease. But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare (Jeremiah 29:4-7).

There is an interesting dialectic in Augustine between peace (”Shalom” in Hebrew) and justice. [3] Human beings by nature seek peace. All human striving, including wars, begin and continue in the search for peace. This peace for which the human race seeks is a kind of harmony where all parts of society are integrated in a just way. Augustine quotes Cicero speaking through the voice of Scipio using a musical analogy as follows:

In the case of music for strings or wind, and in vocal music, there is a certain harmony to be kept between the different parts, and if this is altered or disorganized the cultivated ear finds it intolerable; and the united efforts of dissimilar voices are blended into harmony by the exercise of restraint. In the same way, a community of different classes, high, low, and middle, unites, like the varying sounds of music, to form a harmony of the different parts through the exercise of rational restraint; and what is called harmony in music answers to concord in a community, and is the closest bond of security in a country. And this is not possible without justice. [4]

Social harmony is found when all the various classes of society find their proper place in a kind of social concord that allows the society to prosper.  The ancient world did not assume that absolute equality was the goal of the state. Instead, the goal of the state was the achievement or social harmony among the various groups that comprise it. These groups have different capacities, talents, and abilities. Each needs to be treated fairly with the goal of increasing social harmony.

Augustine accepts the historic definition of justice as “giving each person his or her due.” Implicit in Augustine and Cicero is the idea that justice is not found in complete equality as to all things, because people are different. Societies are made up of people with vastly differing ideas, accomplishments, talents, and intelligence. Differences in outcome are not avoided or entirely eliminated in the just state, but harmonized. Justice is not, in Augustine’s view, any form of absolute equality, social, economic or otherwise, but in a sense that society is constructed so that each person receives his or her due, whatever that may be. [5]

Here we find both a critique of our own society and some notion of a way forward. The identity politics of the past few years, and the increasing level of social distrust and alienation from institutions has created a lack of social harmony that is reflected in the violence of our cities and the impossible hostility of our politics. If we approach the problem from the strategies and tactics of the past, then this situation must continue until one side eliminates the other by some means, legal, constitutional, or otherwise. The alternative is to rebuild the bonds of social harmony and cohesion. This cannot be done by attempting to eliminate differences, but by harmonizing those differences in a just way. In fact, at root it involves rebuilding the bonds of love within our society.

Justice and a Harmonious Government

As mentioned above, a true commonwealth or “weal of the community” cannot exist without justice, and justice is not necessarily to be found in any particular system of government. A monarch may be an unjust tyrant, an aristocrat an unfair oligarch, or an entire people an unreasonable, violent mob or “collective tyranny.” [6] As a basic matter, justice is simply giving to each person his or her due without prejudice. However, the exact characteristics of justice in any concrete moment in history depends upon the leadership of a government, whatever its form. This means that justice. and the peace of a society, cannot be divorced from matters of morality, as too often we attempt to do in the secular West today.

One interesting and important aspect of Augustine’s political thought is the relationship between love and justice in his thinking. Augustine distinguishes between the theological virtues of faith, hope, and love, and the cardinal virtues of prudence, tolerance, temperance, and justice. The theological virtues provide the source and basis for the other virtues. Because earthly justice flows from God and the character of God, and because God is love, justice finally rests upon love. Even earthly justice is a result of love, for only those who love others and who seek the best of others can actually dispense justice.

The Earthly City cannot dispense absolute justice because it is centered on self-love and not on love of others and of God. The utterly self-giving love that is the “act and being of God” is the only source of lasting justice and social harmony. Only in the self-giving love of the Triune God, manifested in relationship to others, can political leadership give to each what is due to that person in fully other-centered fairness.

Unfortunately, because of human sin and finitude, this is impossible for human beings. Therefore, any concrete Earthly City is inevitably ultimately founded on human desire and love of self rather than the love of God and others. As a result of the Fall, human loves are inevitably and universally “disordered,” resulting in the human propensity to fail to love others as their selves. And, because human loves are disordered, love in the Earthly City is disordered. [7]  Therefore, merely human love cannot produce justice and social harmony. In such a situation, absolute justice is impossible.

The result for Augustine is that the Earthly City is without true and lasting justice. In the end, the Earthly City is like a gang of criminals dispensing whatever justice appeals to the whims of its political leaders. Societies experience a greater or lesser degree of true justice, but there can never be full and complete justice. At best, there is a kind of social compact as to how the spoils of their civilization is to be divided, but this division is lacking in true justice. [8]

Augustine’s analysis is an important one in our day. We see evidence that the historic virtues of our own Republic are both under attack and increasingly irrelevant to the lives of many people. We also see evidence in recent scandals that our Earthly City has some characteristics of a “gang of criminals”—crimes are committed by public officials and then covered up by the government, including law enforcement agencies. Large media outlets ignore or suppress the information the public needs to respond to such corruption.

A politics of wisdom and love has much to say to such a situation. There cannot be social peace in the face of a politics that cares only for power. Where wisdom and love, and resulting justice, are given scope to work in a society, there can be an increasing degree of justice and of peace. This is the hope for which Christians in politics must work.

Politics and Augustine

Augustine wrote City of God as both an apologetic for Christian faith and as a defense of Christian faith in light of the pagan attacks against Christianity resulting from the decline of Rome, which pagans attributed to the decline of its ancient martial and political virtues. While it is true that Augustine’s work has a major place in the emergence of “Christendom” in Middle Age Europe, it was not written for that purpose or with that purpose in mind. It was, as mentioned last week, written to promote and encourage tolerance of Christian faith within the late Roman Empire, which was under attack.

Christian faith is under attack in our own day as well, and there are secular figures, well-meaning and otherwise, that desire to expunge faith from public life. There is, therefore, a need to defend Christian faith in our own day, though perhaps not in the same way as Augustine did in City of God.

The Heavenly City has a place in the Earthly City: it is to serve the city and seek its welfare (or peace). The members of the Members of the Heavenly City are pilgrims, so to speak, in the Earthly Cities of which they are a part. Like their leader, they do not come to rule as the pagans do, but to serve in love the Earthly City. But that argument will have to await a later blog.

Copyright 2024, G. Christopher Scruggs, All Rights Reserved

[1] St. Augustine, City of God tr. Gerald G. Walsh, S.J. et all, abridged ed. (Garden City, NY: Image Books, 1958), hereinafter “Image Edition.” Unless otherwise specified, all quotes come from this edition. When noted, quotes may come from St. Augustine, City of God tr. Henry Bettenson (London, ENG: Penguin Books, 1984), hereinafter “Penguin Edition.”

[2] I like to reiterate that all “post-modernism” means is “after modernism.” In fact, the deconstructive form of post-modernism may only be last decadent phase of modernism, a modernism that has lost its confidence in human reason and capacity to find and understand truth, beauty, justice, and the like on the basis of reason alone and is now without a foundation for moving forward. If this is the case, then perhaps what we sometimes call “post-modernism” might be better termed “end game modernism.” On the other hand, there are efforts, such as that of the process thinkers and people like Michael Polanyi, that can be called a truly constructive post-modernism.

[3] “Shalom” is taken from the root word “shalam,” which means, “to be safe in mind, body, or estate.” It refers to a condition of completeness, fullness, or wholeness. Although it can describe the absence of war or conflict, a majority of biblical references refer to an inner completeness and tranquility. See, https://firm.org.il/learn/the-meaning-of-shalom/ (downloaded October 9, 2020.

[4] Penguin Edition, at 72. See also, Cicero, On the Commonwealth tr. George Holland Sabine & Stanley Barney Library of the Liberal Arts, ed. (Indianapolis, IN: Bobbs-Merrill Company, Inc., 1929), 183. Augustine studied and appreciated Cicero.

[5] One aspect Augustine has in common with Plato and others is a sense that justice might be a static thing, something that Augustine despairs of attaining in the Earthly City, but which by grace is achievable in the City of God, the heavenly city in which love rules. The kind of static thinking prevalent in Plato and in Augustine leads to the attempt to delineate a perfect city. In Augustine’s case, he recognizes that this eschatological city is not achievable within history.

[6] Id, at 73.

[7] The notion that human loves are disordered, resulting in human beings loving with an ultimate love things that are secondary (pleasure, possessions, and success) and fail to love things that are primary (God and others) properly as primary is a central idea of Augustine’s thought. See for example, Augustine, “On Christian Doctrine”  Book 1, Chapters 22-29 in Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers First Series Vol. 2 (Peabody, MA: Henricksen 1994), 527-530.

[8] Penguin Edition, at 139.