Look Who's Talking
Sermon
Sermons on the First Readings
Series III, Cycle C
Professional sports has no statistic for measuring talking. Yet talking can be an important part of the game.
We can measure how fast a player pitches or serves. We keep statistics on batting averages, shooting percentages, and quarterback ratings. We track yards-after-catch, on-base percentages, and shots on goal. We record height and weight, wins-and-losses, and times in the 40-yard dash. But we have no way of measuring a player's talking.
Nevertheless, even though it doesn't show up on the scoreboard or in the record books, and even though the Elias Sports Bureau doesn't track it, every sports fan knows what an important part of the game talking can be. The famous face-to-face yelling matches between managers and umpires. The trash-talking on the field or on the court between players. The ill-advised comments in an interview that become bulletin board material for the other team. The over-the-line remark that earns a technical foul. Talking is a major part of most athletic competitions.
John McEnroe was notorious for his talking to the judges during matches. Michael Jordan was well known for trying to get into his opponent's head with his talking. Brett Favre is still famous for his playful conversations with members of both his own team and the opposing team. And Mohammed Ali turned pre- and post-bout talking into an art form.
Of course, who does the talking and what they have to say can change dramatically during the course of a game, much less a season. Players typically do more talking when they're winning than when they're losing. The player or coach who finally wins "the big one" is often said to have silenced his critics.
Talking is a major part of our story from the New Testament book of Acts. Over the course of that story, we see a dramatic and marvelous change in who does the talking and what they have to say.
The first people we hear talking in this episode are these critics.
We know how that sounds, don't we? Every one of us here recognizes that familiar and unpleasant sound: the talk of the critics.
For people whose lives and careers are played out in the public eye -- entertainers, professional athletes, politicians, and so forth -- the critics are plentiful and loud. They have newspapers and magazines. That have television and radio shows. If a public person cared to listen, he could hear himself being criticized virtually every day of his life.
Most of us get to live our lives more privately, so we are not subject to such broad and constant critique. Still, we know the sound. We hear it from the customer or the supervisor who is displeased with our work. We hear it from the neighbor who takes issue with something we've done on our property. We hear it at times from a friend or family member: the criticism that is most personal, and therefore the most painful.
Indeed, for some poor souls, the sound of the critics talking has become so hurtful that they live their lives in almost constant response to it. Not that they are so constantly criticized; but rather, they have been so hurt by criticism that they are constantly afraid of it. So many of the day-to-day choices they make reflect their developed instinct to do whatever it takes to navigate around or away from possible criticism.
The first people we hear talking in this episode are these critics. Specifically, they are the Jewish Christians from the headquarters church in Jerusalem. They are critical of Peter because he has recently fellowshiped with Gentiles.
This was, you see, some of the most unpleasant brand of criticism, for this came from the people who were close. Perhaps the public figure can write off the impersonal criticism of the pundit, the commentator, the blogger. But this criticism of Peter was more personal. It came from his own brothers and sisters in Christ at his home church. These are the folks who were supposed to be on his side. These are the close associates whose instinct and reflex toward him should have been support and encouragement. Peter could well have expected criticism and opposition from the Sanhedrin, from the Gentiles, and eventually from Rome. But not here; not within this tight-knit fellowship of believers. Criticism there had to hurt.
Furthermore, this was some of the most unpalatable kind of criticism because it was so off-the-mark. We may be irked by the critic who has put his finger on our fault, but there is a limit to the hurt and indignation we may feel when the criticism is correct. When, however, the complaint is dead wrong, that's hard to live with.
This complaint was dead wrong. It was wrong because Peter had only been serving and obeying God. It was wrong because it reflected a deep-seated problem in the hearts of the critics themselves.
Notice in the text what it was the believers back in Jerusalem had heard: the impetus for their criticism of Peter. "Now the apostles and the believers who were in Judea heard that the Gentiles had also accepted the word of God" (v. 1).
If the news that had reached their ears was simply that Peter had been in the wrong kind of place with the wrong kind of people, then we might fault their standards, but we would at least concede that they were being true to their standards. In this case, however, they simply reveal that they had entirely wrong standards; that they had missed the priorities of God.
These people were supposed to be the at-all-costs followers of the one who had commanded them to love their enemies and who had instructed them to be his witnesses to the very end of the earth. For them to respond to the news of someone's conversion, therefore, with such parochial exclusiveness -- to be so blinded by prejudice that you cannot see the work of God -- is a frightening error.
We must be cautious in our critique of the critics. Such evaluation of others should always come with a mirror close at hand. Let us not be too eager to point out their specks until we have considered our own logs.
Is there some group of people for whom we feel such distaste or disdain that we do not care for their souls? Is there a kind of person whose conversion we would not welcome because, frankly, it is a kind of person we do not welcome? Is there a group whose exclusion is more acceptable to us than their inclusion?
The apostles and believers in Jerusalem had heard the news that the Gentiles had accepted the word of God. They did not rejoice at that news. Instead, they criticized Peter for having anything to do with that out-of-bounds group.
The first people we hear talking in this episode are the critics.
Then comes Peter's chance to talk.
What follows is commendably charitable. Peter's tone is not defensive, and his purpose is not self-justification. It seems to be our natural human instinct, when we are attacked, to defend ourselves and even attack back. While natural, though, it is not consistent with either the teachings of Jesus or the example of Jesus. We sense here that this close follower of Jesus had learned well from his master. Peter does not seek to prove himself right or to prove his critics wrong. He simply bears witness to what God had done, which makes Peter an example to us all.
Peter recounts how God had privately prepared him to think about and respond to Gentiles differently. This is the episode, then, in which God is the one who does the talking. "What God has made clean," he says to Peter, "you must not call profane" (v. 9). This is God's word on the subject of the Gentiles, and it laid groundwork in Peter for what lay ahead.
It was wise for Peter to share with his critics his own experience. After all, he had no doubt shared their initial reflex in response to Gentiles. We discover that remembering how we ourselves used to be is an essential ingredient in patience and compassion with other people.
Then, having been prepared by God, Peter set off for the home of Cornelius. Again, it was Peter who did the talking, and the talking he did was the simple sharing of the gospel message. That, in turn, gave rise to yet another kind of talking. Peter's Gentile audience began to speak -- in tongues!
This clearly came as a surprise to Peter and the believers who were with him. Beyond just surprising, though, the event was confirming. Now Peter recognized how certainly God was including the Gentiles in his plan and in his work. It was precisely that new certainty that Peter shared with his critics.
Then, finally, see who is not talking. The Bible reports that when the critics "heard this, they were silenced" (v. 18a). That's a certain symbol of victory, of course, when your opposition is silenced. Whether in sports, in politics, or just in an ordinary argument, when you can silence your opponent, you know that you've won.
Except that's not how God wins in the end. The entire episode ends on a happier, superior note. It does not end with critics who are silenced, embarrassed, or put to shame, which would be characteristic of a human victory. No, but rather, we read that "they praised God, saying, 'Then God has given even to the Gentiles the repentance that leads to life' " (v. 18b).
This is the sign and a symbol of God's victory: not silence, but praise. For his end-game with human beings, always and always, is not defeat but conversion. And by the end of this entire episode, we have seen three beautiful conversions: Peter's, the Gentiles', and the critics'.
We don't have statistics to measure a player's talking, but every sports fan knows what an important part of the game talking can be. Even more than the sports fan, however, you and I as Christians know how important talking can be. From creation to Pentecost, from the Ten Commandments to the Great Commission, from the dry bones that surrounded Ezekiel to the Gentiles that surrounded Peter, we know how important -- how eternally important -- talking can be. Amen.
We can measure how fast a player pitches or serves. We keep statistics on batting averages, shooting percentages, and quarterback ratings. We track yards-after-catch, on-base percentages, and shots on goal. We record height and weight, wins-and-losses, and times in the 40-yard dash. But we have no way of measuring a player's talking.
Nevertheless, even though it doesn't show up on the scoreboard or in the record books, and even though the Elias Sports Bureau doesn't track it, every sports fan knows what an important part of the game talking can be. The famous face-to-face yelling matches between managers and umpires. The trash-talking on the field or on the court between players. The ill-advised comments in an interview that become bulletin board material for the other team. The over-the-line remark that earns a technical foul. Talking is a major part of most athletic competitions.
John McEnroe was notorious for his talking to the judges during matches. Michael Jordan was well known for trying to get into his opponent's head with his talking. Brett Favre is still famous for his playful conversations with members of both his own team and the opposing team. And Mohammed Ali turned pre- and post-bout talking into an art form.
Of course, who does the talking and what they have to say can change dramatically during the course of a game, much less a season. Players typically do more talking when they're winning than when they're losing. The player or coach who finally wins "the big one" is often said to have silenced his critics.
Talking is a major part of our story from the New Testament book of Acts. Over the course of that story, we see a dramatic and marvelous change in who does the talking and what they have to say.
The first people we hear talking in this episode are these critics.
We know how that sounds, don't we? Every one of us here recognizes that familiar and unpleasant sound: the talk of the critics.
For people whose lives and careers are played out in the public eye -- entertainers, professional athletes, politicians, and so forth -- the critics are plentiful and loud. They have newspapers and magazines. That have television and radio shows. If a public person cared to listen, he could hear himself being criticized virtually every day of his life.
Most of us get to live our lives more privately, so we are not subject to such broad and constant critique. Still, we know the sound. We hear it from the customer or the supervisor who is displeased with our work. We hear it from the neighbor who takes issue with something we've done on our property. We hear it at times from a friend or family member: the criticism that is most personal, and therefore the most painful.
Indeed, for some poor souls, the sound of the critics talking has become so hurtful that they live their lives in almost constant response to it. Not that they are so constantly criticized; but rather, they have been so hurt by criticism that they are constantly afraid of it. So many of the day-to-day choices they make reflect their developed instinct to do whatever it takes to navigate around or away from possible criticism.
The first people we hear talking in this episode are these critics. Specifically, they are the Jewish Christians from the headquarters church in Jerusalem. They are critical of Peter because he has recently fellowshiped with Gentiles.
This was, you see, some of the most unpleasant brand of criticism, for this came from the people who were close. Perhaps the public figure can write off the impersonal criticism of the pundit, the commentator, the blogger. But this criticism of Peter was more personal. It came from his own brothers and sisters in Christ at his home church. These are the folks who were supposed to be on his side. These are the close associates whose instinct and reflex toward him should have been support and encouragement. Peter could well have expected criticism and opposition from the Sanhedrin, from the Gentiles, and eventually from Rome. But not here; not within this tight-knit fellowship of believers. Criticism there had to hurt.
Furthermore, this was some of the most unpalatable kind of criticism because it was so off-the-mark. We may be irked by the critic who has put his finger on our fault, but there is a limit to the hurt and indignation we may feel when the criticism is correct. When, however, the complaint is dead wrong, that's hard to live with.
This complaint was dead wrong. It was wrong because Peter had only been serving and obeying God. It was wrong because it reflected a deep-seated problem in the hearts of the critics themselves.
Notice in the text what it was the believers back in Jerusalem had heard: the impetus for their criticism of Peter. "Now the apostles and the believers who were in Judea heard that the Gentiles had also accepted the word of God" (v. 1).
If the news that had reached their ears was simply that Peter had been in the wrong kind of place with the wrong kind of people, then we might fault their standards, but we would at least concede that they were being true to their standards. In this case, however, they simply reveal that they had entirely wrong standards; that they had missed the priorities of God.
These people were supposed to be the at-all-costs followers of the one who had commanded them to love their enemies and who had instructed them to be his witnesses to the very end of the earth. For them to respond to the news of someone's conversion, therefore, with such parochial exclusiveness -- to be so blinded by prejudice that you cannot see the work of God -- is a frightening error.
We must be cautious in our critique of the critics. Such evaluation of others should always come with a mirror close at hand. Let us not be too eager to point out their specks until we have considered our own logs.
Is there some group of people for whom we feel such distaste or disdain that we do not care for their souls? Is there a kind of person whose conversion we would not welcome because, frankly, it is a kind of person we do not welcome? Is there a group whose exclusion is more acceptable to us than their inclusion?
The apostles and believers in Jerusalem had heard the news that the Gentiles had accepted the word of God. They did not rejoice at that news. Instead, they criticized Peter for having anything to do with that out-of-bounds group.
The first people we hear talking in this episode are the critics.
Then comes Peter's chance to talk.
What follows is commendably charitable. Peter's tone is not defensive, and his purpose is not self-justification. It seems to be our natural human instinct, when we are attacked, to defend ourselves and even attack back. While natural, though, it is not consistent with either the teachings of Jesus or the example of Jesus. We sense here that this close follower of Jesus had learned well from his master. Peter does not seek to prove himself right or to prove his critics wrong. He simply bears witness to what God had done, which makes Peter an example to us all.
Peter recounts how God had privately prepared him to think about and respond to Gentiles differently. This is the episode, then, in which God is the one who does the talking. "What God has made clean," he says to Peter, "you must not call profane" (v. 9). This is God's word on the subject of the Gentiles, and it laid groundwork in Peter for what lay ahead.
It was wise for Peter to share with his critics his own experience. After all, he had no doubt shared their initial reflex in response to Gentiles. We discover that remembering how we ourselves used to be is an essential ingredient in patience and compassion with other people.
Then, having been prepared by God, Peter set off for the home of Cornelius. Again, it was Peter who did the talking, and the talking he did was the simple sharing of the gospel message. That, in turn, gave rise to yet another kind of talking. Peter's Gentile audience began to speak -- in tongues!
This clearly came as a surprise to Peter and the believers who were with him. Beyond just surprising, though, the event was confirming. Now Peter recognized how certainly God was including the Gentiles in his plan and in his work. It was precisely that new certainty that Peter shared with his critics.
Then, finally, see who is not talking. The Bible reports that when the critics "heard this, they were silenced" (v. 18a). That's a certain symbol of victory, of course, when your opposition is silenced. Whether in sports, in politics, or just in an ordinary argument, when you can silence your opponent, you know that you've won.
Except that's not how God wins in the end. The entire episode ends on a happier, superior note. It does not end with critics who are silenced, embarrassed, or put to shame, which would be characteristic of a human victory. No, but rather, we read that "they praised God, saying, 'Then God has given even to the Gentiles the repentance that leads to life' " (v. 18b).
This is the sign and a symbol of God's victory: not silence, but praise. For his end-game with human beings, always and always, is not defeat but conversion. And by the end of this entire episode, we have seen three beautiful conversions: Peter's, the Gentiles', and the critics'.
We don't have statistics to measure a player's talking, but every sports fan knows what an important part of the game talking can be. Even more than the sports fan, however, you and I as Christians know how important talking can be. From creation to Pentecost, from the Ten Commandments to the Great Commission, from the dry bones that surrounded Ezekiel to the Gentiles that surrounded Peter, we know how important -- how eternally important -- talking can be. Amen.
