The Nature of the Occasion
Commentary
Review your schedule for the past week or so and consider the variety of gatherings of which you have been a part. How many different meetings and get-togethers did you attend? And what was the purpose of each?
Perhaps you had a get-together each night or each morning at the kitchen table for a meal with family members. Perhaps you were part of some administrative groups: committee meetings and staff meetings designed to help your organization function. Perhaps you were part of educational gatherings: classes, seminars, study groups. Perhaps you were part of some social get-togethers: people who gathered to watch a movie, to go out to dinner, to enjoy a sporting event, or some such.
We human beings have a lot of different kinds of get-togethers. Rallies, parties, classes, plays, meetings, conferences, weddings, hearings, concerts — the list goes on and on. We gather for such a variety of purposes and occasions.
Our three assigned passages for this Sunday give us glimpses of different kinds of get-togethers. Each passage depicts people who are gathered, but the nature of the occasions varies dramatically from one to the next. In the Book of Acts, friends have gathered to mourn and remember a cherished member of their group. In John, the opponents of Jesus have gathered to antagonize him. And in Revelation, by contrast, the saints have gathered to worship him.
In a sense, we might say that Jesus was the center of each occasion. He is obviously central to the episodes from John and Revelation. And while not visible in the scene from Acts, we recognize his centrality there, as well. He is, after all, the reason for the group. And, in the end, his power and grace are their reason for rejoicing.
Yet even if we grant the centrality of Jesus to each occasion, still they are quite different. The mood varies dramatically from one to the next. And so, it may be fruitful to set the episodes side by side in order to compare them and see the nature of each occasion.
Acts 9:36-43
We are well-acquainted with the context of the Book of Acts. It is recognized as the second part of a two-volume set. We understand the Greek physician, Luke, to be the author of this gospel first and then Acts as a kind of sequel. The former tells the story of Jesus’ earthly life, ministry, death, and resurrection. The latter, then, picks up the story with Jesus’ ascension, followed by the story of his disciples.
Keeping in mind the “continuation” nature of Acts will help us to appreciate several elements of our selected passage. Specifically, we want to highlight three things that represent thematic continuations from the gospel story into the Acts story.
First, we observe the continuation of “disciples.” When we read about the disciples in the gospels, we tend to think primarily — perhaps even exclusively — of the twelve chosen and named men whom we also refer to as “the apostles'' and “the twelve.” In this episode, however, the only one of “the twelve” who appears is Peter, and interestingly he is not referred to in this text as a disciple. But Tabitha is. And so is some group of nameless believers there in Joppa. And so “disciples” is continued from the gospel, but it has been expanded in its use and definition.
Second, we also observe the continuation of miracles. One can hardly turn a page in the gospels, of course, without coming across some miraculous deed of Jesus. And most of those miracles are need-meeting actions, healing or providing for other people. Jesus resolutely performs no miracles for himself (see, for example, Matthew 12:38-39; Luke 4:1-4, 23:8-9).
In this episode from Acts, meanwhile, we see the sort of miracle that reminds us of Jesus’ powerful and compassionate ministry. Peter does no deed on his own behalf, but comes in response to the need expressed by others. He looks like his Master in this moment. And in that, we observe again that the continuation is also an expansion. The miraculous ministry, you see, is not limited to Jesus: it is now manifested in the lives of his followers. “Very truly I tell you,” He had said to them, “whoever believes in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father” (John 14:12 NIV).
Finally, we also observe in this passage a continuation of the gospel story in both the implicit and explicit spread of the gospel message. It is made clear in a number of gospel passages that the Lord wanted his followers to continue to preach after he was gone. His ministry was not the end but the beginning. And so, the very fact of disciples in these coastal towns, where we have no gospel account of Jesus going to himself, implies the spread of the gospel. And, further, the episode itself becomes a catalyst for that spread. The raising of Dorcas, we read, “became known all over Joppa, and many believed in the Lord.”
The episode from Acts 9 comes after the earthly ministry of Jesus and after his ascension. It is his followers now who are continuing to follow in these significant ways. The story continues. And you and I, likewise, live after Jesus’ earthly ministry and following his ascension. Let us follow as faithfully, that the story may continue in us and in our churches, as well!
Revelation 7:9-17
People are fascinated by sneak peeks andbehindthescenes stories. We are supremely interested in being able to see or hear things that we would not ordinarily be privy to. What are the accommodations and technology inside Air Force One? What did the coach say to his team in that locker room? What is this actor or that musician really like backstage?
So it is that the Apostle John has given us an immeasurable gift in the Book of Revelation, for page after page offers us access to places, sights, and sounds that are otherwise invisible to us. And our selected passage from Revelation 7 is just one sample of that larger gift. In our reading here, John offers a glimpse into the majestic scene around the throne.
That the population there is a multitude beyond counting is as it should be. We recall God’s reassurance to Elijah that, even in the prevalent apostasy of his day, still there were 7,000 who had remained faithful to the Lord (1 Kings 19:18). And if there were thousands of saints at that one moment in that place, how many, many of the Lord’s people from all times and places will be gathered around the throne!
Meanwhile, the detail about people from all places deserves a longer look. John is specific on that point in his narration. The multitude that he saw assembled had come “from every nation and all the tribes, peoples, and languages.” In 2022, you and I are already acclimated to such an image. But if we can rewind the biblical tape a bit, we will discover the astonishing beauty of this detail in the scene.
Think back, for example, to the days of Moses, or David, or Elijah. The children of Israel were a smallish nation, often bullied by neighboring nations and generally dwarfed by the great ancient empires. And in those days, each of those nations (tribes, peoples, languages) had their own gods. Israel worshiped the Lord God, but He must have seemed at times like a minor god over against Dagon, Asherah, Baal, Ra, Marduk, and such. Likewise in the days of Paul and John. How new and unknown Jesus was in a Mediterranean world populated by altars devoted to Diana, Zeus, Athena, Poseidon, and such?
The people who worshiped the Lord God of Israel in the Old Testament and Jesus in the New Testament were a tiny minority, and their god was mostly unknown by the other nations. Against that historical backdrop, then, we are impressed by two things. First, we note that the worship of Baal, Marduk, and Zeus is extinct, while the God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Paul, and John is known around the globe. And, second, we rejoice in the beauty of the affirmation that people from every nation, tribe, and tongue are standing before the throne and before the lamb!
Meanwhile, the scene John shows us reminds us that we human mortals are not the worshipers in attendance. John reports that “all the angels were standing around the throne,” along with “the elders and the four living creatures.” This is beyond our pay grade, of course. We can only speculate about who and what these additional beings are or represent. It is sufficient, however, for us to be reminded that we are privileged to be included in a larger, heavenly enterprise.
In so much of American Protestantism, the emphasis in worship is on what we hear. In this glimpse of worship around the throne, by contrast, the issue is what the worshipers say. John records for us what both the human and angelic worshipers declare. And, while not identical testimonies, both worship by making ultimate affirmations about God. This is profound, and it is worth our deliberate imitation. Forbid it that the preacher should be the only one to articular affirmations about the one we worship this Sunday. Let it be the whole congregation that consciously joins the heavenly host in declaring the grace and majesty of the one we worship.
Finally, the closing paragraph of our passage reveals a lovely testament to the reward that awaits “the ones who come out of the great tribulation.” So much that God’s saints experience in this fallen world is cruel and undeserved. Yet these, who have persevered through “the great tribulation,” are elevated to a setting of unspeakable privilege and beauty, and all their needs are met.
John 10:22-30
John sets the stage for us in three ways as we begin to read this pericope. He tells us where we are in the liturgical calendar (the Feast of the Dedication), where we are in the seasonal calendar (winter), and where we are geographically (in the temple in Jerusalem).
The image of Jesus walking in the temple, meanwhile, is a compelling one. On the one hand, he was just one of a great multitude of faces that were no doubt in the temple that day, that week. Yet the reader knows that he is not just one of the multitudes. This is the one who identifies that place as his Father’s house. This is the Lord who saw the filth and corruption that filled that place in Ezekiel’s day, and whose glory left that place as a result. This is the one who cleansed the temple of corruption that filled it in that day. This is the one who foresaw and predicted the destruction of that temple. And this is the one whose presence makes a temple unnecessary in the new Jerusalem. Jesus walking in the temple is a compelling image.
After John has set the stage, he reports the encounter between Jesus and “the Jews,” which is typically John’s way of referencing the religious leaders in Jerusalem. And as is so often the case in the encounters with Jesus that John reports, this one is filled with Christological significance. From start to finish, the author of the fourth gospel wants us to know who Jesus is. Each page, each episode, serves to reveal that truth.
Interestingly, however, the antagonists in this scene are blind and deaf to precisely the truths that are so central to this gospel. They are asking Jesus specifically about who he is. Yet with words and deeds all around them that bear witness to the truth, still they are ignorant — and opposed.
Jesus is not mystified by their entrenched ignorance, however. He explains plainly to them why they do not believe. They are not his sheep.
While the first part of John 10 is not part of this week’s assigned gospel reading, it is earlier in this chapter that Jesus introduces himself as the Good Shepherd, and then offers an extended teaching on the relationship he has with his sheep. (We will give more attention to this bit of imagery below.)
The cascading series of statements that Jesus makes about him and his sheep is strong and beautiful. There is the relational intimacy and responsiveness as the sheep know his voice, they listen to him, and they follow him. Then there is the grand promise of eternal life, along with the additional statement that seems to make the promise emphatic: “they will never perish.” And then there is the great image and statement of security: “no one will snatch them out of my hand.”
When David was presenting his resume to King Saul so that he could win the job of fighting Goliath, he offered a report of his experience as a shepherd. “Your servant was tending his father’s sheep. When a lion or a bear came and took a sheep from the flock, I went out after it and attacked it, and rescued the sheep from its mouth; and when it rose up against me, I grabbed it by its mane and struck it and killed it” (1 Samuel 17:34-35 NASB). The sheep in biblical Palestine, you see, were vulnerable to being snatched away by substantial predatory animals. And young David showed his courage and heroism by retrieving what had been taken.
Jesus’ promise, however, is still greater. It is not merely a guarantee of retrieving what has been snatched away. Rather, it is a guarantee that his sheep cannot be snatched away from him. His is a strong hand and a secure grip, and you and I and our people may rejoice and relax in them!
Application
The scene from Revelation 7 seems, at first blush, furthest removed from our experience of the three passages assigned for this Sunday. We know well the look of Acts 9: friends who are gathered in grief. And we know well, too, the look of John 10: a setting of conflict and hostility. But the Revelation 7 scene, by contrast, is literally out of this world.
On the other hand, we should find something marvelously familiar about that other-worldly scene, for we are in a sense mimicking it even as we read about it. It is, after all, a gathering of the redeemed. Furthermore, it is a setting of worship — testimony and adoration. The Lord is at the center of the multitudes who have known his grace. And as we gather for worship this Sunday, we are a blemished and dusty microcosm of that glorious gathering. Let us deliberately own our imitation of that scene and affirm that Jesus is at the center of it.
Meanwhile, we observe that Jesus is also at the center of the scene from John 10. The nature of that occasion, however, is much less positive and seems not at all glorious. Yet, still, there is a testimony even in the settings where Jesus is the target of opposition. For whether it is the magi bowing before the baby or Herod trying to kill him, both are taking him seriously. And in our day, when opposition to Jesus has become culturally prevalent and even fashionable, it is right to keep in mind that he remains at the center of the scene. If only we might effectively step in to change the nature of the occasion: to convert the crowd in John 10 into the crowd of Revelation 7 — people who have come to know his grace and adore him.
Finally, we turn to the episode from Acts 9. If that story were turned into a play or a movie — albeit a brief one — which character in the story would get top billing on the marquee or playbill? Who is the star of the show there in Joppa?
At some level, we could make the case that Tabitha/Dorcas is the main character. She is, after all, the one around whom the story revolves. Of course, it seems strange to us that the main character in a play or movie would be dead for most of the story.
The other natural candidate is Peter. He is the one whose presence and activity makes the whole scene into a story worth recording. Tabitha, as admired as she was by those who knew and loved her, would have been lost to history if Peter had not stepped in to raise her from the dead.
But deep inside we know, do we not, that the real star of the show in Joppa is one who is not even on stage. He has no lines in this episode. Indeed, he is barely even mentioned. An uninitiated reader might contend that this story has nothing to do with Jesus. Yet Luke deftly reminds us that Jesus is the actual star of the show when he reports, “It became known all over Joppa, and many believed in the Lord.”
What Peter did for Tabitha became known all over Joppa. That is not surprising given what transpired. Yet the report is not that people heard about it and believed in Tabitha. Nor do we read that people heard about it and believed in Peter. No, when people heard what Peter did for Tabitha, “many believed in the Lord.” Jesus, though offstage, is the star of that show and the center of that scene.
The Acts 9 episode, therefore, speaks a good word to us about many of the circumstances of life in this world. There are situations where the nature of the occasion is trouble or sadness or grief. There are times when Jesus may seem entirely offstage, out-of-the-picture, and not at all a part of the scene. But, in his providence, kindness, and power, we may discover that, in the end, he emerges as the star of the show!
Alternative Application(s)
John 10:22-30 — “Flocking Around Jesus”
In our gospel lection, Jesus makes reference to who are and who are not his sheep, including an affirmation of the relationship he and his sheep have. It comes a few verses after he has declared that he is the Good Shepherd. But it comes after even more than that.
For centuries, the image of the Lord as a shepherd had been evolving in Israel’s imagination. The patriarch Jacob first gave expression to the idea (Genesis 48:15). It is expressed most prominently and memorably in David’s famous 23rd Psalm. But the imagery is developed in other Psalms, as well (e.g., 28:9, 80:1). And the image of the Lord as a shepherd is further explored and developed by the prophets (e.g., Ezekiel 34:11-22, Micah 7:14).
Accordingly, when Jesus declares that He is the Good Shepherd, He is not merely proposing an image but claiming one. The notion of the Lord as shepherd is well-established in the people’s understanding and imaginations. And Jesus takes those centuries of tradition and claims them for himself.
Those who were antagonistic to Jesus pressed him, saying, “How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Christ, tell us plainly.” Of course, “the Christ” was also a title that had evolved in Israel’s understanding over centuries. And so, the inquisitors were taking all of those accumulated expectations and asking Jesus if he would lay claim to them for himself.
The question was a challenging one, and no doubt was asked in a challenging tone. Yet Jesus did not shy away from the potential controversy. On the contrary, he courageously and dramatically reframed the whole issue. For the real question turned out to be not about his identity but theirs. His identity was not in doubt. It was the identity of his opponents that needed sober clarification.
“I told you, and you do not believe,” Jesus replied. In our day, where public opinion is its own sort of cultural god, to have people not believe in a person is to denigrate that person. But Jesus did not feel defensive in the face of their unbelief. It was not a reflection on him; it was a reflection on them.
“You do not believe,” he explained, “because you are not of my sheep.” You see the dramatic assertion. The antagonists — ancient and modern — would say that they do not believe that Jesus is the Christ because he is not. Jesus’ explanation, by contrast, is that they do not believe he is the Christ because of what they are not: they are not of his sheep.
The statement invites a question of determination vs. choice. Are “his sheep” just a select group, and the folks to whom he is speaking do not happen to be among them? Or are certain others “his sheep” by choice? Or, put another way, could the antagonists in the crowd of John 10 have chosen to become his sheep?
How we answer that question may say less about the text than about our theological predispositions. For myself, I lean toward the opportunity for human choice. And I read Jesus’ next statement through that lens: “My sheep listen to my voice.” Let that be the hallmark of all who would be counted among his flock: that we would listen to his voice. For all that follows for them is lovely and good. “I know them,” Jesus declares, “and they follow me; and I give them eternal life, and they will never perish; and no one will snatch them out of my hand.”
Perhaps you had a get-together each night or each morning at the kitchen table for a meal with family members. Perhaps you were part of some administrative groups: committee meetings and staff meetings designed to help your organization function. Perhaps you were part of educational gatherings: classes, seminars, study groups. Perhaps you were part of some social get-togethers: people who gathered to watch a movie, to go out to dinner, to enjoy a sporting event, or some such.
We human beings have a lot of different kinds of get-togethers. Rallies, parties, classes, plays, meetings, conferences, weddings, hearings, concerts — the list goes on and on. We gather for such a variety of purposes and occasions.
Our three assigned passages for this Sunday give us glimpses of different kinds of get-togethers. Each passage depicts people who are gathered, but the nature of the occasions varies dramatically from one to the next. In the Book of Acts, friends have gathered to mourn and remember a cherished member of their group. In John, the opponents of Jesus have gathered to antagonize him. And in Revelation, by contrast, the saints have gathered to worship him.
In a sense, we might say that Jesus was the center of each occasion. He is obviously central to the episodes from John and Revelation. And while not visible in the scene from Acts, we recognize his centrality there, as well. He is, after all, the reason for the group. And, in the end, his power and grace are their reason for rejoicing.
Yet even if we grant the centrality of Jesus to each occasion, still they are quite different. The mood varies dramatically from one to the next. And so, it may be fruitful to set the episodes side by side in order to compare them and see the nature of each occasion.
Acts 9:36-43
We are well-acquainted with the context of the Book of Acts. It is recognized as the second part of a two-volume set. We understand the Greek physician, Luke, to be the author of this gospel first and then Acts as a kind of sequel. The former tells the story of Jesus’ earthly life, ministry, death, and resurrection. The latter, then, picks up the story with Jesus’ ascension, followed by the story of his disciples.
Keeping in mind the “continuation” nature of Acts will help us to appreciate several elements of our selected passage. Specifically, we want to highlight three things that represent thematic continuations from the gospel story into the Acts story.
First, we observe the continuation of “disciples.” When we read about the disciples in the gospels, we tend to think primarily — perhaps even exclusively — of the twelve chosen and named men whom we also refer to as “the apostles'' and “the twelve.” In this episode, however, the only one of “the twelve” who appears is Peter, and interestingly he is not referred to in this text as a disciple. But Tabitha is. And so is some group of nameless believers there in Joppa. And so “disciples” is continued from the gospel, but it has been expanded in its use and definition.
Second, we also observe the continuation of miracles. One can hardly turn a page in the gospels, of course, without coming across some miraculous deed of Jesus. And most of those miracles are need-meeting actions, healing or providing for other people. Jesus resolutely performs no miracles for himself (see, for example, Matthew 12:38-39; Luke 4:1-4, 23:8-9).
In this episode from Acts, meanwhile, we see the sort of miracle that reminds us of Jesus’ powerful and compassionate ministry. Peter does no deed on his own behalf, but comes in response to the need expressed by others. He looks like his Master in this moment. And in that, we observe again that the continuation is also an expansion. The miraculous ministry, you see, is not limited to Jesus: it is now manifested in the lives of his followers. “Very truly I tell you,” He had said to them, “whoever believes in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father” (John 14:12 NIV).
Finally, we also observe in this passage a continuation of the gospel story in both the implicit and explicit spread of the gospel message. It is made clear in a number of gospel passages that the Lord wanted his followers to continue to preach after he was gone. His ministry was not the end but the beginning. And so, the very fact of disciples in these coastal towns, where we have no gospel account of Jesus going to himself, implies the spread of the gospel. And, further, the episode itself becomes a catalyst for that spread. The raising of Dorcas, we read, “became known all over Joppa, and many believed in the Lord.”
The episode from Acts 9 comes after the earthly ministry of Jesus and after his ascension. It is his followers now who are continuing to follow in these significant ways. The story continues. And you and I, likewise, live after Jesus’ earthly ministry and following his ascension. Let us follow as faithfully, that the story may continue in us and in our churches, as well!
Revelation 7:9-17
People are fascinated by sneak peeks andbehindthescenes stories. We are supremely interested in being able to see or hear things that we would not ordinarily be privy to. What are the accommodations and technology inside Air Force One? What did the coach say to his team in that locker room? What is this actor or that musician really like backstage?
So it is that the Apostle John has given us an immeasurable gift in the Book of Revelation, for page after page offers us access to places, sights, and sounds that are otherwise invisible to us. And our selected passage from Revelation 7 is just one sample of that larger gift. In our reading here, John offers a glimpse into the majestic scene around the throne.
That the population there is a multitude beyond counting is as it should be. We recall God’s reassurance to Elijah that, even in the prevalent apostasy of his day, still there were 7,000 who had remained faithful to the Lord (1 Kings 19:18). And if there were thousands of saints at that one moment in that place, how many, many of the Lord’s people from all times and places will be gathered around the throne!
Meanwhile, the detail about people from all places deserves a longer look. John is specific on that point in his narration. The multitude that he saw assembled had come “from every nation and all the tribes, peoples, and languages.” In 2022, you and I are already acclimated to such an image. But if we can rewind the biblical tape a bit, we will discover the astonishing beauty of this detail in the scene.
Think back, for example, to the days of Moses, or David, or Elijah. The children of Israel were a smallish nation, often bullied by neighboring nations and generally dwarfed by the great ancient empires. And in those days, each of those nations (tribes, peoples, languages) had their own gods. Israel worshiped the Lord God, but He must have seemed at times like a minor god over against Dagon, Asherah, Baal, Ra, Marduk, and such. Likewise in the days of Paul and John. How new and unknown Jesus was in a Mediterranean world populated by altars devoted to Diana, Zeus, Athena, Poseidon, and such?
The people who worshiped the Lord God of Israel in the Old Testament and Jesus in the New Testament were a tiny minority, and their god was mostly unknown by the other nations. Against that historical backdrop, then, we are impressed by two things. First, we note that the worship of Baal, Marduk, and Zeus is extinct, while the God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Paul, and John is known around the globe. And, second, we rejoice in the beauty of the affirmation that people from every nation, tribe, and tongue are standing before the throne and before the lamb!
Meanwhile, the scene John shows us reminds us that we human mortals are not the worshipers in attendance. John reports that “all the angels were standing around the throne,” along with “the elders and the four living creatures.” This is beyond our pay grade, of course. We can only speculate about who and what these additional beings are or represent. It is sufficient, however, for us to be reminded that we are privileged to be included in a larger, heavenly enterprise.
In so much of American Protestantism, the emphasis in worship is on what we hear. In this glimpse of worship around the throne, by contrast, the issue is what the worshipers say. John records for us what both the human and angelic worshipers declare. And, while not identical testimonies, both worship by making ultimate affirmations about God. This is profound, and it is worth our deliberate imitation. Forbid it that the preacher should be the only one to articular affirmations about the one we worship this Sunday. Let it be the whole congregation that consciously joins the heavenly host in declaring the grace and majesty of the one we worship.
Finally, the closing paragraph of our passage reveals a lovely testament to the reward that awaits “the ones who come out of the great tribulation.” So much that God’s saints experience in this fallen world is cruel and undeserved. Yet these, who have persevered through “the great tribulation,” are elevated to a setting of unspeakable privilege and beauty, and all their needs are met.
John 10:22-30
John sets the stage for us in three ways as we begin to read this pericope. He tells us where we are in the liturgical calendar (the Feast of the Dedication), where we are in the seasonal calendar (winter), and where we are geographically (in the temple in Jerusalem).
The image of Jesus walking in the temple, meanwhile, is a compelling one. On the one hand, he was just one of a great multitude of faces that were no doubt in the temple that day, that week. Yet the reader knows that he is not just one of the multitudes. This is the one who identifies that place as his Father’s house. This is the Lord who saw the filth and corruption that filled that place in Ezekiel’s day, and whose glory left that place as a result. This is the one who cleansed the temple of corruption that filled it in that day. This is the one who foresaw and predicted the destruction of that temple. And this is the one whose presence makes a temple unnecessary in the new Jerusalem. Jesus walking in the temple is a compelling image.
After John has set the stage, he reports the encounter between Jesus and “the Jews,” which is typically John’s way of referencing the religious leaders in Jerusalem. And as is so often the case in the encounters with Jesus that John reports, this one is filled with Christological significance. From start to finish, the author of the fourth gospel wants us to know who Jesus is. Each page, each episode, serves to reveal that truth.
Interestingly, however, the antagonists in this scene are blind and deaf to precisely the truths that are so central to this gospel. They are asking Jesus specifically about who he is. Yet with words and deeds all around them that bear witness to the truth, still they are ignorant — and opposed.
Jesus is not mystified by their entrenched ignorance, however. He explains plainly to them why they do not believe. They are not his sheep.
While the first part of John 10 is not part of this week’s assigned gospel reading, it is earlier in this chapter that Jesus introduces himself as the Good Shepherd, and then offers an extended teaching on the relationship he has with his sheep. (We will give more attention to this bit of imagery below.)
The cascading series of statements that Jesus makes about him and his sheep is strong and beautiful. There is the relational intimacy and responsiveness as the sheep know his voice, they listen to him, and they follow him. Then there is the grand promise of eternal life, along with the additional statement that seems to make the promise emphatic: “they will never perish.” And then there is the great image and statement of security: “no one will snatch them out of my hand.”
When David was presenting his resume to King Saul so that he could win the job of fighting Goliath, he offered a report of his experience as a shepherd. “Your servant was tending his father’s sheep. When a lion or a bear came and took a sheep from the flock, I went out after it and attacked it, and rescued the sheep from its mouth; and when it rose up against me, I grabbed it by its mane and struck it and killed it” (1 Samuel 17:34-35 NASB). The sheep in biblical Palestine, you see, were vulnerable to being snatched away by substantial predatory animals. And young David showed his courage and heroism by retrieving what had been taken.
Jesus’ promise, however, is still greater. It is not merely a guarantee of retrieving what has been snatched away. Rather, it is a guarantee that his sheep cannot be snatched away from him. His is a strong hand and a secure grip, and you and I and our people may rejoice and relax in them!
Application
The scene from Revelation 7 seems, at first blush, furthest removed from our experience of the three passages assigned for this Sunday. We know well the look of Acts 9: friends who are gathered in grief. And we know well, too, the look of John 10: a setting of conflict and hostility. But the Revelation 7 scene, by contrast, is literally out of this world.
On the other hand, we should find something marvelously familiar about that other-worldly scene, for we are in a sense mimicking it even as we read about it. It is, after all, a gathering of the redeemed. Furthermore, it is a setting of worship — testimony and adoration. The Lord is at the center of the multitudes who have known his grace. And as we gather for worship this Sunday, we are a blemished and dusty microcosm of that glorious gathering. Let us deliberately own our imitation of that scene and affirm that Jesus is at the center of it.
Meanwhile, we observe that Jesus is also at the center of the scene from John 10. The nature of that occasion, however, is much less positive and seems not at all glorious. Yet, still, there is a testimony even in the settings where Jesus is the target of opposition. For whether it is the magi bowing before the baby or Herod trying to kill him, both are taking him seriously. And in our day, when opposition to Jesus has become culturally prevalent and even fashionable, it is right to keep in mind that he remains at the center of the scene. If only we might effectively step in to change the nature of the occasion: to convert the crowd in John 10 into the crowd of Revelation 7 — people who have come to know his grace and adore him.
Finally, we turn to the episode from Acts 9. If that story were turned into a play or a movie — albeit a brief one — which character in the story would get top billing on the marquee or playbill? Who is the star of the show there in Joppa?
At some level, we could make the case that Tabitha/Dorcas is the main character. She is, after all, the one around whom the story revolves. Of course, it seems strange to us that the main character in a play or movie would be dead for most of the story.
The other natural candidate is Peter. He is the one whose presence and activity makes the whole scene into a story worth recording. Tabitha, as admired as she was by those who knew and loved her, would have been lost to history if Peter had not stepped in to raise her from the dead.
But deep inside we know, do we not, that the real star of the show in Joppa is one who is not even on stage. He has no lines in this episode. Indeed, he is barely even mentioned. An uninitiated reader might contend that this story has nothing to do with Jesus. Yet Luke deftly reminds us that Jesus is the actual star of the show when he reports, “It became known all over Joppa, and many believed in the Lord.”
What Peter did for Tabitha became known all over Joppa. That is not surprising given what transpired. Yet the report is not that people heard about it and believed in Tabitha. Nor do we read that people heard about it and believed in Peter. No, when people heard what Peter did for Tabitha, “many believed in the Lord.” Jesus, though offstage, is the star of that show and the center of that scene.
The Acts 9 episode, therefore, speaks a good word to us about many of the circumstances of life in this world. There are situations where the nature of the occasion is trouble or sadness or grief. There are times when Jesus may seem entirely offstage, out-of-the-picture, and not at all a part of the scene. But, in his providence, kindness, and power, we may discover that, in the end, he emerges as the star of the show!
Alternative Application(s)
John 10:22-30 — “Flocking Around Jesus”
In our gospel lection, Jesus makes reference to who are and who are not his sheep, including an affirmation of the relationship he and his sheep have. It comes a few verses after he has declared that he is the Good Shepherd. But it comes after even more than that.
For centuries, the image of the Lord as a shepherd had been evolving in Israel’s imagination. The patriarch Jacob first gave expression to the idea (Genesis 48:15). It is expressed most prominently and memorably in David’s famous 23rd Psalm. But the imagery is developed in other Psalms, as well (e.g., 28:9, 80:1). And the image of the Lord as a shepherd is further explored and developed by the prophets (e.g., Ezekiel 34:11-22, Micah 7:14).
Accordingly, when Jesus declares that He is the Good Shepherd, He is not merely proposing an image but claiming one. The notion of the Lord as shepherd is well-established in the people’s understanding and imaginations. And Jesus takes those centuries of tradition and claims them for himself.
Those who were antagonistic to Jesus pressed him, saying, “How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Christ, tell us plainly.” Of course, “the Christ” was also a title that had evolved in Israel’s understanding over centuries. And so, the inquisitors were taking all of those accumulated expectations and asking Jesus if he would lay claim to them for himself.
The question was a challenging one, and no doubt was asked in a challenging tone. Yet Jesus did not shy away from the potential controversy. On the contrary, he courageously and dramatically reframed the whole issue. For the real question turned out to be not about his identity but theirs. His identity was not in doubt. It was the identity of his opponents that needed sober clarification.
“I told you, and you do not believe,” Jesus replied. In our day, where public opinion is its own sort of cultural god, to have people not believe in a person is to denigrate that person. But Jesus did not feel defensive in the face of their unbelief. It was not a reflection on him; it was a reflection on them.
“You do not believe,” he explained, “because you are not of my sheep.” You see the dramatic assertion. The antagonists — ancient and modern — would say that they do not believe that Jesus is the Christ because he is not. Jesus’ explanation, by contrast, is that they do not believe he is the Christ because of what they are not: they are not of his sheep.
The statement invites a question of determination vs. choice. Are “his sheep” just a select group, and the folks to whom he is speaking do not happen to be among them? Or are certain others “his sheep” by choice? Or, put another way, could the antagonists in the crowd of John 10 have chosen to become his sheep?
How we answer that question may say less about the text than about our theological predispositions. For myself, I lean toward the opportunity for human choice. And I read Jesus’ next statement through that lens: “My sheep listen to my voice.” Let that be the hallmark of all who would be counted among his flock: that we would listen to his voice. For all that follows for them is lovely and good. “I know them,” Jesus declares, “and they follow me; and I give them eternal life, and they will never perish; and no one will snatch them out of my hand.”
