In our last study we looked at the early church’s attitude towards money, how it was demonstrated in the stories of Barnabas and Ananias & Sapphira, culminating in the latter couple’s deaths.
Luke tells us in Acts 5:12-16, that many signs and miracles continued among the people whilst the believers met in Solomon’s Colonnade, but no-one dared join them, despite holding the community in high esteem – I suspect that the news of Ananias and Sapphira had spread around. The healings were of such volume and magnitude that just the shadow of Peter was enough to bring healing. It is not surprising, therefore, that the High Priest Caiaphas and his Sadducean acolytes were alarmed. So much so that the apostles were arrested.
However, as we read in the following section (Acts 5:17-42), things didn’t turn out as planned. During the night an angel of the Lord opened up the prison and led the disciples out. But the angel’s instruction to return to the Temple Court and tell people about “this new life” – literally ‘this life’– was, I guess, unexpected.
The life and the way
I find the instruction “tell them about this life” thoroughly interesting. This simple statement tells me that the gospel is about far more than faith. It is about faith, of course, but it is also about experience, about ‘koinonia’ and fellowship, about working together. I find the reductionist approach of ‘just believe this truth about Jesus, He died for our sins’ only portrays one facet of the gospel. I see the gospel as like a diamond – yes, this face is beautiful, but there are so many more. Our Christian walk is everything; it is a way of living, a way of walking, a way of being, a way of praising, a way of worshipping, a way of praying, a way of living, a way that demands our life, our soul, our all.
Our Christian walk is everything; it is a way of living, a way of walking, a way of being, a way of praising, a way of worshipping, a way of praying, a way of living, a way that demands our life, our soul, our all.
Surprising events
But if the surprise of being set free then sent back to the place the disciples were arrested wasn’t enough, it was nothing as compared to the priests’ surprise the next morning. The Sanhedrin was summoned ready to judge, the apostles were to be brought from the prison. But arriving at the prison to collect their charges, the officers unexpectedly found a locked and manned jail but no prisoners inside. They returned and gave their report to the shocked Sanhedrin. Then came the biggest surprise of all. Someone entered the court to tell everyone that the men they had arrested in the Temple court and put in prison were back in the same place teaching the people! Talk about a day not going to plan!
Priests v apostles
However, all caution is thrown to the wind once the apostles were brought back in front of the Sanhedrin. The Chief Priest did not hold back: “You were given strict orders not to teach in this name, but here you are doing exactly that, determined to lay responsibility for this man’s death at our door!”
This statement makes three things very evident. First, the High Priest is concerned that the apostles’ teaching is making inroads into Jerusalem’s population (a fair number, given there were an estimated 6,000 Pharisees in Jerusalem, around 1% of the population). Second, the priestly families remained extremely sensitive about the death of Jesus. Third, they expected the apostles to have been cowed by the first experience, and were flustered because they weren’t.
They determined once again to obey God rather than man and to carry on preaching the message of this life.
Once again, it is Peter who led the response, good old impetuous Peter, and the answer the apostles gave is a complete overview of the situation. They began by asserting that they were called to obey God rather than man – a direct implication that the Sanhedrin is not obeying God. They went on to affirm the reality of the resurrection, that Jesus’ death was at the hands of religious authorities scheming, affirming that Jesus is God’s Messiah and citing the giving of the Holy Spirit. It is a complete sermon with nothing left out and not one extraneous word, and it certainly speaks to the audience. So much so that you can immediately see the impact of this sermon. The Sanhedrin went from jealous, to authoritative, to furious in short order. Their fury was such that the situation was highly charged – there was the threat of death in the air. It was a critical time in the life of this fledgling church. And one man rose to his feet to speak.
A reasoning, respected rabbi
Gamli’el was a Pharisee, (also the teacher of Paul), and the text tells us that he was highly respected. What the text doesn’t tell us is that he was so highly respected that within the Talmud he was identified as a Nasi (a prince or leader) and he was the grandson of the great Jewish teacher Hillel.
Hillel and his counterpart Shammai made up the final pair of leading rabbis that filled in the intertestamental period from the prophets until Jesus. Shammai was known for his strict interpretations and Hillel was known as more liberal. A golden example of the two disparate philosophies is given in the story of a Greek man who went to Shammai to set him a challenge: if he could put across the reasons for belief in God whilst this Greek man stood on one leg, he would convert. Shammai, who worked as a carpenter, took his T-Square and chased him off, beating him across the shoulders. When the Greek man put the same challenge to Hillel, Hillel responded with the words, “what is displeasing to yourself, do not do to another; the rest is simply commentary”.
Gamli’el demonstrated this more reasoned approach in some very simple actions. He began by taking advantage of the hush that followed his standing up by ushering the apostles out of the room, and out of the immediate threat of a death sentence. Then he sounded a warning note to the hotter heads in the 71-strong Sanhedrin by reminding them of their history. He reminded them of Todah, a revolutionary who raised a band of around 400, but which faded away following Todah’s death; of Y’hudah ha G’lili (Judah of Galilee) who led an uprising at the time of the census, some 35 years earlier around the time of Jesus’ birth – naturally Gamli’el does not mention the Jesus connection – and whose revolt disappeared with his passing.
In doing this, he was pointing out to the Sanhedrin that Judaea was never short of a Messianic figure or a tax-inspired revolt. It is estimated by historians that in the period between the census and the ironically named ‘Second Jewish Revolt’ in 132AD (led by Bar Kochba, literally son of a star, who was recognised as Messiah by Rabbi Akivah), there were 39 revolts, virtually all inspired by tax grievances. That’s roughly one revolt every three years and four months. Gamli’el might also have been recognising the hand of God when he advised the Sanhedrin not to get involved in this affair. His advice was that if this was all humanly inspired, then it would simply wither and die, whereas, if this was from God, then they risked experiencing the reality of Israel’s spiritual leadership actually opposing God. Which, of course, Jesus had accused them of doing.
Stop, in the name of love
I find this episode resonant of Jesus being asked about the woman taken in adultery. Gamli’el knew what the apostles were accused of, and he knew they were guilty. But he was looking for a lever to cause everyone to stop in the name of love and think it over. And, akin to the gospel story, that time to draw breath caused a collective sense of reason to take control. The Sanhedrin heeded Gamli’el’s advice inasmuch as they stepped back from pursuing a death penalty – although they couldn’t resist a good flogging and a further injunction not to teach in the name of Jesus.
He was looking for a lever to cause everyone to stop in the name of love and think it over.
It is at this point that we read how the apostles left the Sanhedrin overjoyed that they had been counted worthy of suffering for the sake of Jesus’ name. Not only that, but they determined once again to obey God rather than man and to carry on preaching the message of this life.
For most of us we do not run the risk of a flogging, let alone death threats for telling people about ‘this life’ in Jesus. But do we do it? Are we willing to give account of ourselves and our walk with The Lord? My sense is that times are coming when it will become increasingly harder to share our faith, when the choices given to people will push them away from our walk. Maybe this is a timely reminder to see the gospel in its full richness, and to have the confidence in our life in the Lord so much that we are willing to share it.
