Texts: Acts 1:15-17, 21-26; 1 John 5:9-13; John 17:6-19
According to St Luke whose timetable we follow at this time of the year, the whole Easter event took place over a period of 50 days, starting with the resurrection on Easter Day, and ending with the coming of the Spirit on the Day of Pentecost. On the fortieth day, came the Ascension, when Jesus returned to the Father, followed by ten days during which (it seems) nothing much happened.
Except for the ‘election’ of Mathias, which St Luke tells us about today. This is the only glimpse we have of the Church in that strange hiatus – between the Ascension of Christ and the coming of the Spirit at Pentecost. Everything else in the Book of Acts is from Pentecost onwards. This bit, therefore, shows us the Church pre-Pentecost, which, in one sense, must mean ‘without the Spirit’.
And when we look at it, what do we find? A people focussed on institutional matters. It looks like a Parish AGM. Peter is in the chair. He announces the first item of business – the election of officers, or in this case, one officer, an Apostle, to fill the vacancy left by Judas. Fortunately, St Luke is taking the minutes. He knows that the first thing to do at a proper meeting is to check the quorum. If you look at verse 15, you’ll notice that he has recorded (in parentheses) the number present. He puts it at about 120.
That’s a very significant number. Under Jewish law, a local community needed a minimum of 120 members before it could constitute its own local council of elders. So here we have Luke, even though a Gentile himself, carefully assuring the auditors that this was a properly constituted meeting. There was a quorum. So Peter could introduce his motion.
Next notice how he did it. There was no disguising the fact that things had gone disastrously wrong. There are no euphemisms here, and no attempt to disassociate himself and the other apostles from Judas. Peter acknowledges up-front that Judas had acted as guide for those who were sent to arrest Jesus; and that Judas “was one of our number and shared in the ministry”. He then gives a brief and rather lurid summary of what has happened to Judas. There is no motion of thanks for Judas’ prior service, or note of regret about his death – or even about what he did.
This is pure institutional business. A vacancy has arisen, and it is now necessary to choose someone to fill it. Peter has checked the manual, and announces the qualifications to be met by nominees. To be considered for the position, a man must have been with Jesus from the beginning of his ministry, which Peter puts at the time of the baptism in the Jordan, right through to the death and resurrection of Jesus. For the apostle’s basic task is to be a witness to the resurrection.
So are there any nominations? There are two. Joseph Barsabbas (also known as Justus), and Mathias. At that point the matter is committed to prayer. They pray, “Lord, you know everyone’s heart. Show us which of these two you have chosen to take over this apostolic ministry, which Judas has left to go where he belongs.” (There’s a euphemism!) They draw lots and Mathias is chosen.
Now for students of human nature, it would have been fascinating to know what happened next. How did Joseph Barsabbas take the news that he had come second out of two? Did he immediately offer his heartfelt congratulations to Mathias and pledge undying loyalty to him and the rest of the fellowship? Was he satisfied with a position on the cleaning and flower arrangement roster? Or did he stage a loud walk-out, taking his supporters with him, and making a mental note to cancel his automatic payment to the parish?
Or perhaps he did the Anglican thing and just quietly stopped coming?
We’ll never know in this case. Interestingly, the ‘winner’ is never heard of again, but there is a reference to “Justus” in St Paul’s letter to the Colossians. It would be lovely to think that this Justus is indeed Joseph Barsabbas, and that he took his non-selection as the will of God and continued faithfully in his ministry, wouldn’t it?
Experience suggests that the odds are against it, my own included. Years ago two of us were nominated for the position of People’s Warden in a particular parish. I was very busy at the time, and hadn’t given it much thought until the day of the AGM. I suddenly realised that I wanted to win, and I became fearful of how I might react if I didn’t. I earnestly prayed for the grace to accept such an outcome, and not behave like a spoilt brat if I missed out. I don’t know if that prayer was answered or not. I was elected. The other guy was very gracious in his defeat.
But he never attended that church again.
It’s one of the things that worries me about the move towards mutual ministry. It’s a great thing in theory – I can certainly see the theological attractions in it. The idea is that within the local faith community different people are called by God to different forms of ministry, and these are determined by what are called (at least, in the Diocese of Waikato where I experienced this process) “prayer ballots”. Certain offices or positions are identified as being necessary for the life and ministry of the particular faith community, and then the members of that community are asked to consider in prayer who might be called to each of those positions.
For example, who might be called to be the priest in that community? Who might be a preacher? The members of the community simply indicate in writing who they think should be called; those papers are then given to the Bishop, and the decisions are made. The process is something like that outlined in our reading this morning. It is submitted to God in prayer. There is supposed to be no lobbying, arm-twisting, wink-winking or nudge-nudging.
Most importantly, the outcome is to be accepted by all because it is God’s will. Well, experience suggests that first time around it works okay. There may be some disappointments and bruised egos, but usually things don’t get too hot. The difficulties arise 3 years later when the whole process is repeated, and a different call is made this time from last time. It may simply be that new people have come into the parish and their gifts are discerned – or it may be that with the benefit of 3 years’ experience of a particular person’s ministry, the congregation discerns that 3 years is enough! Again, does the disappointed one accept the outcome as the will of God, or reject it as gross insult from the congregation?
Joseph Barsabbas would have had a good excuse if he had spat the dummy and gone off in a huff. The Spirit had not yet come. At this moment the Church was just another human institution, a collection of individual egos, each with their own agenda. But then the Spirit came – the Spirit of Truth, the Spirit of Love, the Spirit of Unity – and the Church was completely transformed, wasn’t it? Its members were transformed, became members of the new creation, became humble and loving servants, became, in a word Christ-like. Never again were there any petty rivalries, squabbles or personal agendas. Never again did anyone stand on their dignity, defend their turf or insist on their own rights. Nobody ever walked out because he or she didn’t like the music, the coffee or the noise the children were making.
And according to St Luke, things stayed that way for a while in the Church in Jerusalem. He gives us a couple of glimpses of what it was like in 2:42-47, and 4:32-37. So it is possible. That’s what the Church could be like if it was completely submitted to the Holy Spirit. But what it’s usually like is graphically shown in the writing of St John.
At least, his fellowship seems to have been torn by major issues. They couldn’t agree on the divinity of Christ. How was that dispute to be settled? It wasn’t. Some things are too important, too fundamental, for that. And the basis of the issue is the Spirit. Those who have received the Spirit know that Jesus is the Son of God; those who say he isn’t are rejecting the Spirit, and there can be no fellowship with them.
Some things are too important to accept. Some things are too trivial to fight over. I wonder sometimes if we haven’t got things in the Church today the other way round. We will accept any heresy so long as we get to choose the hymns or read the lesson.
On the night before Jesus died his closest disciples were jockeying for position, each pursuing his own agenda and defending his own turf, while Jesus prayed for unity. He didn’t just pray for them. He prayed for you and I and all who will come to faith in the future. He prayed for unity within the Church.
The answer to that prayer was the sending of the Holy Spirit, but that’s next week’s story.
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