Acts 1

Introductions are important and meant to be read. Often I skip right on by and move on to the “meat” of the text, and miss some incredible truth. God helped me not to do that here. Luke reminds the readers that his first book was written all about Jesus, what he “began to do and teach.” The book of Acts records what the church did, how it functioned to fulfill the mission it was given, but it was not written until after the book was written about who Jesus was and what He did. The church, no matter how big or small, no matter how many or how few “programs” it has, no matter what, is not more important than Jesus. The mission of the church is completely dependent upon the message and the mystery of the gospel, not the other way around. How I view Jesus should not be dependent upon how I do church, how I do church should be dependent on how I view Jesus. Depending upon church background, it could be easy to see how someone would believe that Jesus wanted us to wear the right clothes and say the right things on Sundays and that Jesus must have believed that things done in the past must always be done in the future, when in reality the gospels reveal that those thoughts are the creation of man rather than the creed of the Savior. If we allow what Scripture says about Jesus to mold our church; our church would be much uglier: filled with adulterers and the leprous and, well, sinners. What role do I play in who comes to church? How can I affect the image of the church to the un-churched in this world? Those are questions I need to constantly ask myself.

As Jesus begins to tell the disciples about this incredible gift that is coming, a gift that none of us fully understands or utilizes, he reminds them of a timeless, pun intended, truth that I have learned and been reminded of over and over again. From verse 7, in the HCSB, “It is not for you to know times or periods that the Father has set by His own authority.” It is not for me to know the times and periods I’ll have on this Earth with my father or my grandpas or grandma or baby, it is not for me to know how long this period of suffering and hardship and trial will last, it is not for me to know how long my friends or family will resist the message of the grace of Jesus, if they ever accept it at all. It is not for me to know and I have to be OK with that. I don’t want to, I don’t like to, but I have to be OK with that, and even more I should rejoice in that. It is all in God’s hands, in His timing, it is all from Him and through Him and to Him, it’s His. I rejoice in that because I can’t handle it and He can, He does, and He will forever. He is the potter and I am the clay.

Verses 4 through 8 begin to dive into the being of the Holy Spirit, which is something I am going to pay close attention to as I journey through the book of Acts. I don’t fully understand the Spirit and I sure don’t utilize enough of His power, and I need that to change. In my mind, the church today (in general, not every church) is not busting its doors as people are responding to the forgiveness that God the Father offers through Jesus the Son, because the third part of the Trinity is being ignored or confined to a very small box. I have been told that when I was really young I said the Holy Spirit was the one who ran around and pinched people when they did something wrong, which has some theological truth, metaphorically. But, while that might sound cute and funny, what’s not cute and funny is that we as the church have only given the Holy Spirit that much credit. We act like He’s only there to let us know when we’ve done something wrong rather than to unleash the power of God to the people of God, enabling us to be His witnesses in Jerusalem, our immediate spheres of influence, in Judea and Samaria, our medium spheres of influence, and to the ends of the earth, to the ends of the earth. The Holy Spirit has a power that the world cannot contain and the gates of Hades cannot stop, and I need to let Him out of my box.

The next few verses in this chapter paint a picture of how Jesus went into Heaven, and provide a glimpse into the future of how He will come back. Contained in this passage, however, is a command and a directive that I need to take hold of. The HCSB describes what Jesus’ followers were doing as “gazing into heaven,” and it makes me think of how often I gaze into heaven. I long to be with my Savior, I long to see my family who is already there worshiping the King, I long to be in a place with no sickness or pain or struggle, but how much am I missing here on Earth as I look forward to heaven. Don’t get me wrong we should look forward to eternity and live our lives with an eternal perspective, but we still need to live our lives. Jesus has just given these guys the mission that would be carried out over thousands of years by millions of people and these guys are standing there looking at the clouds. I have been given the mission to reach the lost, yet how many times do I stand around looking at the clouds, wasting time and energy pursuing things that don’t really matter. Yes Jesus is coming back, but I need to quit standing around looking up and start looking around at all the people that He is coming back for.

Jesus’ disciples, along with some others that were there, were “continually united in prayer.” Who am I continually united in prayer with? I’m not talking about who I say a mealtime prayer with, or who I hear pray a prayer before a meeting or even in a church service, I mean who am I united with in prayer? At the start of the greatest church movement that ever was, these men and women were continually united in prayer, so shouldn’t I be? Shouldn’t the church be? Shouldn’t all fellow believers, regardless of denomination or theological stances, be united in prayer about the King and His Kingdom? My mom’s new “thing” is to pray about everything with everyone. On the phone, in the car, in the middle of making Christmas candies, it doesn’t matter. If the conversation turns to something that anybody in the room can’t handle or can’t solve, she starts praying. At first it felt kind of weird, kind of strange, but shouldn’t it feel right? The disciples were continually united in prayer, they probably thought it felt weird not to pray about something, so shouldn’t I be the same way? Verse 14 is a kick in the pants for me, a kick in the pants that knocks me to my knees, literally.

Father right now in the midst of reading your word I need your help. I haven’t gotten very far through the first chapter of the book of Acts and already you are revealing to me where I fall short, incredibly short. Thank you so much for the gift of the Holy Spirit, but I desperately need your help to smash the box I’ve created and let Him out, to unleash His power on my life and the world around me. Father I pray for help and boldness to pray, continually, with and for those around me. Help me to follow the pattern of the disciples, help me get to a place where not praying leaves me feeling weird and strange, help me to unite with other believers, through the gift of the Holy Spirit through the power of prayer. Amen.

The final 12 verses of Acts chapter 1 has a lot packed into it, but the one word that jumps out at me after reading this passage is trust. The apostles had an incredible amount of trust, which was rooted in the knowledge of what God had said along with the experience of seeing God fulfill the things He promised. They trusted who God was and they relied on that trust to make an incredibly important decision. They needed to replace Judas, who vacated His spot as an apostle of Jesus by betraying Him, and they trusted God to make that decision. They didn’t examine and interview some men and have the congregation vote on who was most qualified, they didn’t grill these guys and ask them about their theology and their philosophy of ministry, they simply prayed and left the decision up to God. They trusted that God was not only holding the entire world in His hands, they trusted that God would stack the deck in favor of the one He had chosen to lead His church. Trust. Do I have that much trust? Have I ever cast lots to make an important decision, without going best 2 out of 3 or 76 out of 150 or however many it took to get the answer I thought was best? No, the short answer is no, but I want to. I’ve trusted, but I can’t say I trust. Those phrases might sound the same but there is a huge difference. I’ve trusted a little, here and there, whenever I’ve had a streak of boldness or a period of unusual and uncharacteristic submission, but I can’t say that I constantly live in an active and vibrant state of trust. I can’t say that I always believe and never doubt, I can’t say that I boldly approach the throne of grace with confidence and never sheepishly add on the back end of my prayers, if it’s in your will. An active and vibrant state of trust is how I want, how I need to live my life. Back to my knees…

Father I believe, but help me in my unbelief. I have trusted and trust some now and will probably trust in the future, but please help me replace that probably with a constantly, with an always. Father help me have an apostle-like trust that you are in control of all things and that in you all things hold together. Help me to trust that you are who you say you are and you will do what you have said you will do. When you say go and I will lead you, help me to go. When you say give and I will provide for you, help me to give. When you say step off of your cliff of security and control and into the great unknown of faith and dependence on you, help me not only to step off one foot at a time but to jump off with both feet.

One chapter down, 27 more to go!