Second Sunday in Easter, Year C, 2010

We Must Obey God

Sermon on Acts 5:27-32

The high priest was really starting to get nervous. They had carried off the whole thing beautifully. No one had known that it was him and the council that had been behind the whole thing.

Jesus was a loose cannon, certainly. And he had been whipping the crowds up into quite a frenzy. Speaking of whipping, he had come into the temple and interrupted the very profitable Passover business going on there ever since the Romans had taken over. The crowds loved it of course. They like a good show. But it was a very, very dangerous thing to do. The Romans must not think for a minute the people might be rising up against them. That's pretty much what religious leaders are for, aren't they, to keep the peace, to bless the flag of the republic?

And so they had acted very wisely in quietly working behind the scenes, arranging Jesus' downfall. A few half-truths here, a few false testimonies there, a bribe to the right disciple, a midnight arrest, and by morning, the crowd, always ready to change their minds at the drop of a statistic, turned against Jesus nicely. The crucifixion should have erased him.

But then these rumors started about his rising from the dead. People shouting in public that they had seen him, even had dinner with him. He should have been erased, forgotten, wiped from memory, but crowds were gathering again, this time around his disciples. And worst of all, they were going around telling everyone that he and the council were behind the whole thing.

They'd arrested them already, Peter and his compatriots. But they really were pretty much powerless to do anything about it. Too many followers. And when they'd put them in jail, somehow they'd just walked out. That story was everywhere.

Something had to be done.

We may not have the high priest anymore, or the Pharisees and Sadducees. Yes, we still have those who stand right out in the public square and tell the truth, while those who work against them sneak around in the dark. But this wasn't about good people or bad people, then or now.

Then and now, the conflict is not really between those who are dishonest and those who are honest, those who are forthright and those who are sneaky. The real conflict is between authorities, spiritual entities that claim the allegiance of followers. The behavior is simply the indicator of what authority is being followed.

In our culture, we claim to be religious or spiritual or whatever you want to call it, but the same studies that show a wide interest in spirituality also seem to show that we seem to regard spirituality as a lifestyle accessory, like driving an economical car or shopping at Target. This same so-called spiritual culture we have is also caught up in addiction like it never has been before. We say we are spiritual, but our behavior says we are addicted. We say we seek a relationship with God, but our behavior says we are seeking only control, we simply want our way.

Food, money, sex, drugs, nicotine, alcohol, oil, power, you name it, we are an addicted culture. Two out of three Americans are obese; not just overweight, obese. One out of ten, conservatively estimated, is addicted to alcohol. Yet another one out of the same ten is addicted to some other substance like heroin or prescription drugs. And the symptoms of addiction, whether in an individual, a family or a nation, are the same. Dishonesty, immaturity, self-centered fear, chronic anger and resentment, grandiosity, defiance and denial. Whether personally addicted or not, and there are very few who are not personally addicted, addiction poisons whole relationship networks with certain classic symptoms, like collective blindness, using heroic people as proof there's nothing wrong, and using scapegoats as the cause of everyone's problem. Other classic symptoms: fear of direct conflict, gossiping, betrayal, an inability to respect the boundaries between one person and another.

This is nothing new. There have been other words used to describe it, but it has always been around. It is a spiritual malady, almost entirely. It has to do with the authority in one's life. Iti comes down usually to two choices: the self or God.

When Peter comes before the council, it's not the council he ultimately has to worry about. He ultimately has to worry about whether he will put his own well-being ahead of the truth. Will he go toward feeling comfortable or will he go toward the will of God? Will he do what makes him happy or will he do what makes God happy?

It's not that easy of a choice. Hard-core addicts who have entered recovery will tell you there was a moment when they were looking at dying of their illness on the one hand and embracing a real and authentic spiritual life on the other, and in their eyes it was a toss-up. Because an authentic spiritual life requires a complete shift in allegiance from one authority, the self, to a new authority, God.

Look, the high priest says, we just want you to play along with us for crying out loud. Keep the peace, don't rock the boat. Be reasonable.

And the voice of destiny might as well have been saying to Peter, "Here are two roads; one leads to a long but compromised life, the other to a short but authentic one. One leads to happiness, the other to joy."

Peter will end up crucified. But here we are, two thousand years later, chatting with him, having a meal with him. Apparently he is risen from the dead. Hmmm.

Who is the authority in my life? Who must I obey?

Amen.