When Worldviews Collide (Collision part 3 of 4)

And all the city was disturbed and the people ran together, and they seized Paul, dragged him out of the temple, and immediately the doors were shut. Now as they were seeking to kill him, news came to the commander of the garrison that all Jerusalem was in an uproar... When he could not ascertain the truth because of the tumult, he commanded that Paul be taken into the barracks. When he reached the stairs, Paul had to be carried by the soldiers because of the violence of the mob, for the multitude of the people followed after, crying out, "Away with him! Away with him!" (Acts 21:30–36)

When a hostile crowd seizes Paul in the temple, he relives the very scene he once presided over—and shows us how to set the record straight about who we are in Christ.

A Strangely Familiar Scene

This last week Pastor Mark and I were up in the Portland–Vancouver area. As we crossed the bridge from Oregon into Washington, I had one of those experiences you can probably relate to—the conversation and the scenery felt strangely familiar, as if I'd seen it all before. We call it déjà vu.

Scientists tell us that experience isn't precognition or prophecy. It's almost as if your brain is having a hard time catching up with what's going on—like typing on a computer that freezes, then suddenly fills in everything you just typed. As I looked at Acts 21, I thought: Paul had to be feeling that same thing. As the events unfolded in the temple in Jerusalem around the feast of Pentecost in A.D. 58, he must have thought, This is strangely familiar. I've experienced this before.

Paul Was Once on the Other Side

About twenty-two years before this, a very similar event had taken place—and Paul was a witness, but from the other side. That story is in Acts 7, the story of Stephen, one of the first deacons chosen by the church. God used Stephen not only to serve tables but as a mouthpiece of the gospel, and he was causing quite a commotion among a group of Jews from the synagogue of the Libertines—men from Cilicia, whose capital city was Tarsus. There was a man from Tarsus named Saul, probably a member of that synagogue.

When they couldn't contend with Stephen, God opened the door for him to preach. At the climax he said:

You stiff-necked and uncircumcised in heart and ears! You always resist the Holy Spirit; as your fathers did, so do you. Which of the prophets did your fathers not persecute? And they killed those who foretold the coming of the Just One, of whom you now have become the betrayers and murderers. (Acts 7:51–52)

Those are fighting words. They were cut to the heart and gnashed at him with their teeth. But Stephen, full of the Holy Spirit, saw Jesus standing at the right hand of God. They stopped their ears, ran at him with one accord as a mob, cast him out of the city, and stoned him. The witnesses laid their clothes at the feet of a young man named Saul of Tarsus.

Saul, then in his mid-thirties and likely a candidate for or member of the Sanhedrin, was the one presiding over and permitting the death of Stephen.

You Reap What You Sow

Fast forward twenty-two years. Saul of Tarsus is now Paul the apostle, a follower of the very Jesus Stephen preached. Now he is in the temple. Now they run at him with one accord, seize him, and drag him outside—because they cannot kill him in the temple, but they fully intend to kill him outside it.

He knew exactly why they were doing this. He had been on the other side of this very thing. I wonder if Paul wasn't also thinking, You reap what you sow. We don't believe in the Indian concept of karma, but we do recognize there's an aspect of reaping what we sow. Paul may well have thought, This is it. This is what happened to Stephen. I stood on the other side, presiding over it, and now it's coming to me.

Thank God for Civil Government

As they were seeking to kill him—not just rough him up—news reached the commander of the Roman garrison that all Jerusalem was in an uproar. The temple mount was the most prominent feature of the city, and just north of it sat a huge Roman fortress, the Antonia, sharing a wall with the temple courts. Roman soldiers watched the temple constantly, because every revolt in Jerusalem started there.

Notice the commander took "centurions"—plural. A centurion oversaw about eighty soldiers, so possibly 160 men ran down in full gear. That seems like an overwhelming show of force, but remember the climate. Josephus tells us that during this period under Felix there was a group of religious assassins called the Sicarii, who were murdering people daily in the marketplaces and even in the temple to incite a revolt against Rome. The Romans were deadly serious about maintaining peace.

When the mob saw the commander and the soldiers, they stopped beating Paul. Point one: thank God for civil government. Without it, Paul would have been dead. We don't agree with everything any government does, but at the very least we should thank God for it, because God ordained it:

Let every soul be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and the authorities that exist are appointed by God. (Romans 13:1)

Don't think Paul was naive. When he wrote those words to the Christians in Rome, the Caesar was the madman Nero. Over the coming chapters we'll see Paul take every advantage of his rights and protections as a Roman citizen. As Americans, we should be thankful for our freedoms—to gather, to worship, to speak—that much of the world does not have.

In Portland we met a young man at a shawarma cart with spiky hair and zigzags carved into it. He looked like the average Portlander, but when we asked where he was from, he said, "Baghdad, Iraq." He and his family fled in 2004 when he was fourteen or fifteen, came as refugees to the United States, and now, at twenty-five, he owns his own business. Where else does that happen? It's incredible.

Don't Let Others Mistake Your Identity

The commander came near, took Paul, and commanded that he be bound with two chains—handcuff him—and he asked who he was and what he had done. They immediately assumed his guilt; you don't get beaten like that unless you're a bad dude. In our nation we have due process—innocent until proven guilty. Here they detained him, chained him, and assumed he was guilty.

But some in the crowd cried one thing and some another, so the commander couldn't ascertain the truth and ordered Paul into the barracks. In that day this meant only one thing: interrogation. A Roman interrogation was not CSI Miami—no coffee, no lawyer. It meant stripping off your clothes, binding you, and whipping you until you confessed.

Remember, this happened after Paul wrote 2 Corinthians, where he says five times he received forty lashes minus one—195 lashes from the Romans, plus three beatings with rods. His back would have been covered in scars, because everywhere Paul went there was either a revival or a riot, and the Romans beat him to find out what he'd done.

So this 58-year-old man, already bloodied and bruised, is carried up the stairs because of the violence of the mob crying, "Away with him!" Then Paul speaks: "May I speak to you?" The commander replied:

Can you speak Greek? Are you not the Egyptian who some time ago stirred up a rebellion and led four thousand assassins into the wilderness? (Acts 21:37–38)

Josephus and Eusebius both mention this Egyptian Jew who led a band of assassins—the sicarii. The commander thinks he has captured their leader. Point two: don't allow others to mistake your identity. There are many opinions among coworkers, neighbors, and family about who we are and what we believe simply because we go to church and carry a Bible. There is much mistaken identity in our culture about Christians, and we can't allow it to stand.

Setting the Record Straight

Paul answered:

I am a Jew from Tarsus, in Cilicia, a citizen of no mean city; and I implore you, permit me to speak to the people. (Acts 21:39)

I am not who you think I am. Given permission, Paul stood on the stairs and motioned with his hand. The Jews wouldn't come up the unclean Roman steps, so they stood below. When silence fell, he spoke to them in Hebrew, and they grew even more quiet—they too had mistaken his identity.

Point three: set the record straight. Paul began:

I am indeed a Jew, born in Tarsus of Cilicia, but brought up in this city at the feet of Gamaliel, taught according to the strictness of our fathers' law, and was zealous toward God as you all are today. (Acts 22:3)

Notice what Paul does—he identifies with them. People who misunderstand our identity as Christians need to recognize how much we share in common. There are real differences, but much they can identify with. Paul continued that he had persecuted "this Way" to the death, binding men and women into prison, with the high priest and the council as his witnesses.

He never lost sight of who he had been. He knew he was what he was by the grace of God: "I am the least of the apostles… because I persecuted the church of God. But by the grace of God I am what I am" (1 Corinthians 15:9–10). When we meet people who misunderstand us, we must remember we are no different from any sinner on the street. "And such were some of you. But you were washed" (1 Corinthians 6:11). The world often thinks Christians are holier-than-thou and self-righteous; the best way to combat that is the next point.

Don't Be Afraid to Tell Your Story

Point four: don't be afraid to tell your story. Paul loved to tell his story, and he always told the same one—we'll see it again in Acts 26 before King Agrippa.

As I journeyed and came near Damascus about noon, suddenly a great light from heaven shone around me. And I fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to me, "Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me?"… "I am Jesus of Nazareth, whom you are persecuting."… "Arise and go into Damascus, and there you will be told all things which are appointed for you to do." (Acts 22:6–10)

Being blinded by that light, this man of the hour had to be led by the hand into Damascus. There a devout Jew named Ananias—not the Ananias of Acts 5—came and said:

The God of our fathers has chosen you that you should know His will, and see the Just One, and hear the voice of His mouth. For you will be His witness to all men of what you have seen and heard. (Acts 22:14–15)

You cannot be a witness unless you have seen and heard. Ananias said God chose Paul to know His will, to see Him, and to hear His voice—so that he would be a witness, the Greek word martus. Church, that is exactly what God has done for you and me. He chose us and appointed us to know His will from His Word, to see Him as He reveals Himself through Scripture and His body, to hear His voice, and to take what we've seen and heard and share it as witnesses.

Paul went on to recount that when he returned to Jerusalem and prayed in the temple, Jesus appeared in a vision and told him to leave quickly, "for they will not receive your testimony concerning Me." Paul argued back: But Lord, they know I imprisoned and beat believers; they know I consented to Stephen's death—I'm just like them, surely I can reach them. That was Paul's heart, but God had a different plan.

Expect a Response or a Reaction

The gathered mob listened patiently to Paul speak of Jesus risen and reigning—until one word:

Then He said to me, "Depart, for I will send you far from here to the Gentiles." And they listened to him until this word, and then they raised their voices and said, "Away with such a fellow from the earth, for he is not fit to live!" (Acts 22:21–22)

The racial and cultural divide between Jew and Gentile was immense, inflamed by the Roman occupation. When Paul said Jesus sent him to the Gentiles, they declared him unfit to live.

Point five: expect a response or a reaction. There are people at your school, office, job site, neighborhood, and family who misunderstand who we are. We must set the record straight, interact with them, and tell our story—because God has sent us, just as He sent Paul. But understand that the reaction may not always seem "good."

Yet I suggest that the mob's furious response was actually better than the response Paul received in Athens—"We will hear you again on this matter"—or from Agrippa—"You are beside yourself; much learning is driving you mad." When someone reacts with anger and even hatred toward the cross of Christ, they are responding the same way Saul of Tarsus once did.

Interestingly, when Paul retells his Damascus story, he leaves out something Luke records in Acts 9, where Jesus says, "It is hard for you to kick against the goads." Why was Saul filled with rage and persecution? Because he was fighting against Jesus, wrestling with the Holy Spirit of God. When someone in your family or workplace wrestles with the gospel and reacts with hatred, that may be because the Holy Spirit is working on them. Pray for them. Keep sharing. Don't give up. Expect a response, expect a reaction—and don't be afraid to tell your story.

Closing Prayer

God, we thank You for the great liberty we have in this nation—liberty to gather and worship like this, and freedom to share our faith with others, the good news of who You are and what You've done. We know there is much misunderstanding among people who know us but don't know You. I pray that You would give us the opportunity and the boldness to set the record straight, to share the good news of who You are, to tell our story. And we pray that as we do, people would respond and turn to You. Work in and through us, we pray, in Jesus' name. Amen.