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Seventh Sunday of Easter

Acts 16
16 Once when we were going to the place of prayer, we were met by a female slave who had a spirit by which she predicted the future. She earned a great deal of money for her owners by fortune-telling. 17 She followed Paul and the rest of us, shouting, “These men are servants of the Most High God, who are telling you the way to be saved.” 18 She kept this up for many days. Finally Paul became so annoyed that he turned around and said to the spirit, “In the name of Jesus Christ I command you to come out of her!” At that moment the spirit left her.
19 When her owners realized that their hope of making money was gone, they seized Paul and Silas and dragged them into the marketplace to face the authorities. 20 They brought them before the magistrates and said, “These men are Jews, and are throwing our city into an uproar 21 by advocating customs unlawful for us Romans to accept or practice.”
22 The crowd joined in the attack against Paul and Silas, and the magistrates ordered them to be stripped and beaten with rods. 23 After they had been severely flogged, they were thrown into prison, and the jailer was commanded to guard them carefully.


The ninth grade was a confusing time.

I’m not talking about puberty, that’s another sermon altogether. Imagine a seemingly short bus ride from Mount Albert to Newmarket, leaving the comfort and certainty of my home town, to be confronted by big city ideas like Greek and Roman mythology.

Who were these pagan teachers, or teachers of pagan ideas? Flying too close to the sun with waxen wings? Even a boy from Mount Albert could see how that was going to end. Stealing fire from the gods? Pushing the same rock up a hill day after day? Is it Poseidon or Neptune? Athena or Minerva? And Delphi, why is everyone always talking about Delphi?

Well, it seems I finally have the answer, some forty years later. Delphi makes an indirect appearance in our passage today, read with verve by Joan, and leading to longer sequence of events that I have hinted at over the last two weeks. Recall we are in the midst of an accidental sermon series, three Sundays on the Book of Acts, four if you count the festival of Pentecost just one week from today.

So before we look at Delphi, a brief recap. In week one, we met Dr. Skinner of Luther Seminary, who gave us the overall theme for these sermons, namely, “what becomes possible in a post-Easter world.” Part of what’s possible was summarized this way: “strangers become friends, outsiders become members of the household of God, and anyone who calls on the name of the Lord can be saved.” That was week one. In week two, we met Lydia: first convert on European soil, leader in her church and community, dedicated follower of Jesus Christ. Her household in Philippi is the first to accept baptism, beginning a movement that stretches down to today.

There was a hint in last week’s reading—St. Luke describing Philippi as ‘a Roman colony and a leading city in that district’—and it is to that reference we now turn. The city was founded by Greeks, conquered and renamed by Alexander’s father Philip II, and eventually colonized by the Romans, populated by retired soldiers and their families. These first colonists served the Emperor Augustus, and were rewarded with land and homes near a town with its own gold mine. So Philippi was wealthy, loyal to the emperor and his successors, and dedicated to the peace and stability of Rome. And into this mix stumbles Paul and Silas.

But before we get to that, there is one other detail worth noting. The town was proud of their connection to Augustus, and mirrored Augustus’ dedication to the god Apollo—and all that that dedication entailed. So in addition to all the usual things associated with Apollo—light, poetry, music—there is also Apollo’s role as the patron of Delphi, the famous oracle. Dr. Skinner argues that the spirit of Pythia (an old name for Delphi) was important to the people of Philippi, as important as the connection to Augustus and Apollo. So who has a Pythian spirit, the ability to see hidden things? Well, let’s meet her, she’s speaking just now:

“These men are slaves of the Most High God, who are telling you the way to be saved.” Sorry, what was that?
“These men are servants of the Most High God, who are telling you the way to be saved.”

And so it went, for many days, following Paul and Silas and the others, this young woman with the Pythian gift of seeing hidden things. She was right, of course, and an effective seer, and made her owners a great deal of money. Until she annoyed the wrong slave of the Most High.

“In the name of Jesus Christ,” Paul said to the offending spirit, “I command you to come out of her!” And at once, the spirit was gone. Remember how money is the root of all evil? Well, the owners of the-slave-who-could-no-longer-foretell-the-future were more than unhappy that their revenue stream had dried up. They turned Paul and Silas over to the magistrate, charged them (ironically) with disturbing the peace, who in turn had them flogged and thrown into prison. And that’s where the real story begins.

25 About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the other prisoners were listening to them. 26 Suddenly there was such a violent earthquake that the foundations of the prison were shaken. At once all the prison doors flew open, and everyone’s chains came loose. 27 The jailer woke up, and when he saw the prison doors open, he drew his sword and was about to kill himself because he thought the prisoners had escaped. 28 But Paul shouted, “Don’t harm yourself! We are all here!” 29 The jailer called for lights, rushed in and fell trembling before Paul and Silas. 30 He then brought them out and asked, “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?”

What follows is among the first and most compelling creeds of the Christian faith: “Believe in the Lord Jesus,” they said, “and you will be saved—you and your household.” That hour the jailer washed them and dressed their wounds, accepted baptism along with the rest of his household, and led them home for a meal and fellowship, under the blessing of the Most High God.

And this might be the end of the story, except for the Pythian spirit of truth that visited that town. By daybreak, the magistrates and officers of the town realized that the words of the former seer were right: these men were indeed slaves of the Most High God. But rather than experience faith, these leaders felt fear, and were offended by the silencing of this Pythian voice. They promptly invited Paul and Silas to go in peace, and to leave Philippi. And leave they did, but not before seeing Lydia one final time—and then it was off to the next place the Spirit would lead them.

But I’m still stuck at Delphi, and the ability to see hidden things. And it’s not just Delphi, it’s a whole world of spirits, demons, and the like that seem to see things clearly when others cannot.

In the first chapter of Mark, Jesus is minding his own business in the synagogue when a man with an unclean spirit appears and says, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us?” Two chapters later, the crowds grow larger, pressing in on Jesus, many possessed. And whenever the impure spirits saw him, they fell down before him and cried out, “You are the Son of God.” Two chapters more, and we meet the demon-possessed man living in the tombs, a demon so powerful even chains could not restrain him.

When the man saw Jesus from a distance, he ran and fell on his knees in front of him. 7 He shouted at the top of his voice, “What do you want with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? In God’s name don’t torture me!”

Do you see what’s happening here? The demons of Galilee can see it. The Pythian spirit of Philippi can see it. The centurion, the merchant and the jailer can see it. But the world cannot see it. We are surrounded by street after street of people with a hunger for meaning, but they struggle to see it. So what’s the block, and what can we do to help?

There is a very human tendency to take something simple and make it complicated. It happens in relationships and systems and most obviously in answers to life’s big questions. And part of the appeal of the Book of Acts is the return to basics, the ask and answer of this amazing chronicle. What did she say?

“These men are slaves of the Most High God, who are telling you the way to be saved.” And did he ask? “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?” And what did Paul and Silas say? “Believe in the Lord Jesus,” they said, “and you will be saved—you and your household.”

Remember from last week, this is not the formulaic ‘say some words’ and be saved. This is embracing a world where salvation is held out for soldiers and slaves, jailers and widows, the least likely converts in the world’s eyes. This is taking up the challenge to love your neighbour, and continually extend your definition of neighbour to include everyone and even the earth itself. And this is a commitment to love the Lord your God, with all your heart and soul and mind.

Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and you will be saved, and your household, and the neighbours in your street, and everyone who leans in to learn about this remarkable God of love and mercy. I shouldn’t be complicated, because even the demons get it: “What do you want with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High?” Love, just love, that’s all. Amen.

posted by michael jacob kooiman @ 7:41 AM