Thursday, May 10, 2018

“Our Good Shepherd,” Acts 4.1-12, Easter 4B, April ‘18



1.                   Please pray with me.  May the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be pleasing in Your sight, O Lord, our Rock, and our Redeemer.  Amen.  The message from God’s Word tod ay comes from Acts 4:1-12 and is entitled, “Our Good Shepherd,” dear brothers and sisters in Christ.
2.                   Among the high and mighty of the earth there has always been a sort of way into which any  issue, any stubborn thorn in some powerful side, can conveniently be dissolved. I’m speaking about death—the power by which Satan holds the whole world captive, as Hebrews 2 reminds us (v 14). Offing an opponent has frequently proven a tempting option for someone with a lot of power and (at least momentarily) not much conscience.
3.                   Biblically, we can’t help but think of King Saul, whose power was matched only by his jealousy of David, the son of Jesse. David was popular, too popular. Time and time again, Saul tried and failed to apply the age-old political remedy of death to his David problem. But time and time again, David was delivered.
4.                   Sadly, King David himself would later sinfully wield death for political and personal ends. (The Scriptures are not known for hiding the sins of our biblical heroes.) In what would prove the low point of his life, King David had fathered a child by a married woman who wasn’t his wife. Public scandal was sure to follow when news got out. Public repentance was apparently not on David’s agenda. And so it naturally occurred to him that he could fix it all . . . if he would only kill Uriah, whose wife David had effectively stolen. And so David did. It’s noteworthy that the man who wrote Psalm 23 is the same man who also, finally, wrote Psalm 51: “Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions” (v 1). He speaks here of Bathsheba and Uriah.  Of course, these weren’t the first times it had dawned on someone powerful that death could be put to convenient use, nor would it be the last.
5.                   Even so, innocent blood has a way of speaking out and even humbling those who spill it. That was true in the case of Uriah and David. It was true of Jesus and his persecutors too.  Our text in Acts opens with the Jewish leaders rushing to the temple courts, greatly annoyed to find that death had not solved their Jesus problem. Not long ago, they had all released a great sigh of relief as they watched Jesus of Nazareth breathe his last. The competition was disposed. All could go on as before. So they thought. Today, they discover Peter and John have healed a lame man in Jesus’ name. Worse, the apostles are publicly proclaiming Jesus with every breath in their lungs—proclaiming him alive and calling for repentance: “God, having raised up his servant, sent him to you first, to bless you by turning every one of you from your wickedness” (Acts 3:26). Thousands heard and believed.
6.                   At first, things proceed along the age-old pattern. Arrests are made. A solemn assembly gathers. A threat of death hangs over Peter and John. But things have changed. Peter and John are not afraid. Death is no longer an issue. When asked how the lame man standing before them had been healed, Peter boldly explains: “Let it be known to all of you and to all the people of Israel that by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom you crucified, whom God raised from the dead—by him this man is standing before you well” (v 10).
7.                   Not only had death not solved their Jesus problem, but Jesus also had created for them a problem with death. They now had a life problem. The threat of death wasn’t working. In Christ, death had backfired and unleashed forgiveness, restoration, and life. Here was blood speaking a better word than the blood of Abel, and here was an empty tomb making itself felt even in high, mighty hearts.
8.                   How do you control people who aren’t afraid to die? Even­tu­ally, the leaders feebly resort to charging Peter and John to be quiet about Jesus. Peter and John frankly refuse: “Whether it is right in the sight of God to listen to you rather than to God, you must judge, for we cannot but speak of what we have seen and heard” (4:19–20).
9.                   How do you feel as you consider all of this? Initially, it’s natural to feel excited and encouraged. Upon further reflection, maybe also somewhat ashamed. It’s easy to feel ashamed at how sheepish we are when such ground for boldness is ours in Christ. The resurrected Good Shepherd is at my side, and I go through life as nervous and shifty eyed as a lone lamb in the woods, worrying away my days. The very conqueror of death has declared himself through Baptism to be, for me, my deliverer, yet the very mention of cancer or stroke can make me tremble.
10.               And then there’s the idea of persecution. I don’t imagine I’ll ever be dragged before rulers and authorities and threatened with death if I refuse to get quiet about Jesus, but such things do happen today. There continue to be men and women who stand up to worldly power and give witness with their lives to the one who is stronger than death. And here I am, sometimes lowering my voice to a whisper when leading a table prayer in public, nervous about letting the waiter hear me speak to Jesus. Maybe in your own way, you’ve felt the same. Christ, have mercy on your sheep!
11.               And then we remember: he has and he does. This is also what it means that he is the Good Shepherd—not only that he is infinite in power, unstoppable in death, and able to deliver, but also that this mighty, living Savior, who knew our sin before we were conceived, willingly laid down his life for such timid, sinful sheep as you and I are. “I am the good shepherd,” we heard him say today. “The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep” (Jn 10:11).
12.               Do we appreciate how profound that is? Do we remember who these sheep are of whom Christ speaks? He is talking about David, adulterer and murderer of humble Uriah. He is speaking of Peter, who thrice denied him, swearing, “I do not know the man.” He is speaking of John, who wanted a distinguished throne at Christ’s right hand until Good Friday, when the thrones turned out to be crosses. Then, in fear, John locked himself away with the others, despite the Lord’s word that death could not contain him. Some flock. But this is who Jesus is, the Good Shepherd who loves the sheep, who pursues the sheep, who lays down his life for his sheep—sheep like you and sheep like me.
13.               What wonderful Gospel! A shepherd infinite in power might strike fear in the now defenseless high and mighty but wouldn’t inspire anything like Psalm 23. It’s because David had tasted God’s mercy and had seen ahead to the one who wields the rod and staff that he found comfort in them and finally walked through the valley of the shadow of death without fear. It’s because Peter and John not only saw the resurrected Christ but also had received his restoration and word of peace that they were bold to testify powerfully in his name. And time will only tell how our encounters of the mighty and merciful Good Shepherd will embolden our own lives and witness. But we do know this:  In Christ, Our Good Shepherd, Our Sin Has a Forgive­ness Problem and Death a Life Problem, and we have a very Good Shepherd. Thanks be to God!  Amen.


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