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The Feast of St. Bartholomew, 2002
Acts 5:12-16
Signs and Wonders
What word would Anaheim Angels fans utter if our baseball team were to win the World Series this year? They would call it a miracle. Yet, technically that is not the correct usage of the term. The doctrine of miracles is prominent in our epistle lesson.
After the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost the Church grew by leaps and bounds. Our epistle lesson from Acts states, "And believers were increasingly added to the Lord, multitudes of both men and women." In our text, we notice the rapid growth of the Church, and we notice something else: many miracles. Acts 5:12 says, "Through the hands of the apostles many signs and wonders were done among the people." Verse 15 offers more information. The multitudes "brought the sick out into the streets and laid them on beds and couches, that at least the shadow of Peter passing by might fall on some of them." Apparently, God had even blessed Peter's shadow. Verse 16 continues, "Also a multitude gathered from the surrounding cities of Jerusalem, bringing sick people and those who were tormented by unclean spirits, and they were all healed." As word spread of the curative power of Bartholomew and the other apostles, people from all over Judea flocked to the Temple. The sick came for healing; the demon possessed for liberation.
On this feast of St. Bartholomew we will explore the subject of miracles, and attempt to locate them in their proper place today. To begin, this outpouring of the apostles' signs and wonders should have surprised no one. It was the Lord Himself who had promised and predicted it. Before Jesus ascended into Heaven He told His disciples, "Most assuredly, I say to you, he who believes in Me, the works that I do he will do also; and greater works than these he will do, because I go to My Father" (John 14:12). With Pentecost that promise came to fulfillment. Who performed "many signs and wonders among the people?" Was it all the Christians? Probably not. Acts 5:12 carefully states that it was "through the hands of the apostles" that they were done. Evidently, it was the Apostles of the Church who worked miracles -- Peter, James, John, Bartholomew and the rest.
What was the purpose of these signs and wonders? A few come to mind. First, people were suffering and they needed healing. The miracles revealed the compassion of Christ. Second, the signs and wonders helped to accredit the apostles as Christ's representatives. Third, the wonderful works authenticated the message the apostles were preaching. Let's consider the last two points.
Certainly, God could have given the Church fantastic growth without a multitude of miracles. Ultimately, it is He who grows the Church. He can grow the Church with or without signs and wonders. Nonetheless, when the Lord sent out the apostles to preach the Gospel He graced their preaching with mighty miracles. Remember, the twelve had no formal rabbinic training. They were not considered intellectual giants. Therefore, the public would not naturally respect them. Why listen to a bunch of ignorant laymen? A string of signs and wonders helped overcome this obstacle. It would be clear to everyone who the bishops were. The believers -- the members of the church -- were to mind the men who executed miracles like Jesus did, the men who had spent time with the Savior and been trained by Him.
Furthermore, the miracles reinforced the truth of the apostles' message. Anybody can stand up and proclaim new teaching, but when their doctrine is set in the midst of grand and stunning marvels, God is behind the doctrine, and the people will be more prone to believe it.
Let us consider another point: the breathtaking abundance of signs and wonders. It is beyond amazing. The picture we get is that of hordes of souls pressing towards the apostles at all hours of the day. The eyes of the blind restored, the ears of the deaf unstopped, the limbs of the crippled made strong, the sick and diseased made whole, the demon-possessed unshackled. As if that were not enough, God granted healing power even to the shadow of the apostle Peter. Beds and couches of the sick and lame were laid along the paths where Peter passed. As he walked by his shadow brought healing. These are staggering wonders.
Let's ask this question: should Christians feel embarrassed at these accounts? Is this superstition, fantasy, or myth? No; not at all. The Bible tells us that God created the world out of nothing, and Jesus Christ, ascended and seated in Heaven, now sustains it. Deists may try to distance God from His creation, and secularists may try to banish Him from it altogether, but not Christians. The beauty of creation reflects the goodness, power and wisdom of God Himself. By the activity of angels, the Son of God holds up the universe and makes it run. Revelation 16:5 speaks of "the angel of the waters." The ongoing action of angels in personally maintaining Christ's control over creation some theologians call the "liturgical dance of the angels." This cosmic dance is not capricious, nor chaotic. The Lord maintains His creation in an orderly fashion. The liturgical movement of the angels has a pattern to it. The water evaporates into clouds, the clouds rain water on the earth, the rain creates cascades and rivers, the rivers gather into lakes and seas. Again the evaporation takes place and the process goes on. The seasons change, the planets orbit, the tide flows, flowers bloom, and spiders spin. There is thus great regularity in creation. This predictability sets the foundation for science.
Yet in the midst of these regularities there are deviations. These deviations from the normal pattern of the angels' creational care we call miracles. The Lord maintains the order of His natural world, and He is the one that causes the exceptions to that regularity. If we believe in God's creation out of nothing, and His ceaseless care for it, then there should be no reason to deny miracles or feel embarrassed by them.
This is our assumption as we read the book of Acts. The question then becomes, what about the present? Should a prevalence of miracles characterize the life of the Church today? Maybe it should. One strand of the Church emphatically affirms this. But there are indications from Scripture that the mighty signs and wonders are not an ordinary aspect of the Church's ministry. First, there is the reality that miracles appear in clusters. Supernatural exploits are scattered here and there in the Bible, but they especially amass around three eras: the Exodus from Egypt, the prophetic ministries of Elijah and Elisha, and Jesus Christ's founding of the New Covenant Church. If supernatural marvels come to pass only sporadically in Scripture, perhaps we can conclude that a similar pattern will mark the Church's history. That is, as the centuries go by, every once in a while God supports the Church with high miracle density, but these special epochs are balanced by longer stretches of less spectacular Holy Spirit guided operations. James instructs the elders to anoint the sick with oil, lay hands on them, and pray for their healing (James 5:16). It is implied that healing is not guaranteed. The Apostle Paul suffered a thorn in the side that God chose not to heal (2 Corinthians 12:7).
So far we have insisted that miracles are not perplexing for Christianity. If we accept the doctrine of creation, the incidence of miracles is no problem. Yet there have been times in Church history when signs and wonders have become embarrassing. How is this so? When we focus on signs and wonders, exaggerate them, and make them the center of attention, then it seems we are veering off the beaten path. Have you heard of Reinhart Bonnke? He is the German evangelist who holds mass crusades in Africa. Christianity Today ran a feature article on his recent evangelistic campaign in Nairobi, Kenya. At one meeting, over a million people attended. One million stood for hours to listen to Evangelist Reinhart Bonnke preach, and watch him perform miracles. The magazine showed the event with one of those large fold-out pictures. You see an ocean of humanity gathered around a large flat stage. The article goes on to explain that leading up to the crusade large billboards all over Nairobi announced a promise of miracles. The advertising worked. What was the result of the power crusade? Thousands were healed; thousands were saved.
Bonnke's defenders claim that the healings Pastor Reinhart effects are just as powerful as Peter's and the apostles'. Are they telling the truth? It is hard to determine. We want to be charitable and see the good that is being promoted. On the other hand, it seems that these grand stadium events provide an outlet for the emotional feelings of the people; they satisfy a thirst for entertainment. In the long-term how much good is accomplished on behalf of Christ's kingdom? Only God knows.
A similar dilemma concerns Early Church history. Without doubt God empowered innumerable believers to live and die heroically during the first centuries of the New Testament Church. Up against vicious Emperors and cruel barbarians, godly men and women carried the Gospel throughout the known world. Tens of thousands, perhaps more died for the faith.
Later on, after Christianity was accepted and the Church became dominant, monks began to write biographical accounts of the saints who had died. These memoirs were called hagiographies, and if the saint was martyred it was called a martyrology. During the Middle Ages hundreds of saints were honored by the Church with feast days. Every day of the year recognized at least one saint's day. How did the English Reformation react to these feasts? They did not eliminate them, but the Reformers significantly limited the number of saints' days during the year. A catalog of hundreds or thousands was reduced to a list of about twenty. These were called red letter days." The Feast of St. Bartholomew that we celebrate today is a red letter day. What about the other feast days? They are called the "lesser feasts and fasts" and they are optional.
Why would Archbishop Thomas Cranmer play down these other feasts in the lectionary? One reason has to do with the hagiographers' over-dramatization of miracles. Take for example, St. Nicholas, bishop of Myra. He is the one from whom we get Santa Claus; the charming fellow with red clothes and white beard. What are the facts that make him a saint? On one occasion, St. Nicholas was able to read the mind of a father who was about to sell his three daughters into prostitution in order to pay his bills. Each time the father was about to send one of his daughters to the brothel, Nicholas crept up in the middle of the night and threw a bag of gold through an open window into the man's home, thus sparing the daughters a shameful fate. On another occasion, God notified Nicholas of a city in a far off land that was on the verge of starvation. In response to this news, Nicholas loaded up a ship with provisions and set it loose. Without a man on board, the wind blew the craft a thousand miles straight to the city, saving the emaciated population. These stories tax our belief, but we try to charitably give the benefit of the doubt and accept them. But how do we explain Nicholas' miraculous infancy? The hagiographers profess that as soon as baby Nicholas was born, he stood up, and for two hours recited the Lord's Prayer. Moreover, since Wednesdays and Fridays were fast days, baby Nicholas proved his holiness by voluntarily refusing to nurse on those days. Of course this could be true, but on the other hand, we can't escape the notion that the hagiographers were stretching the truth.
Then there is St. Denis, patron saint of Paris. Supposedly, he was one of the seven bishops sent to convert France in the Third Century. He later was martyred on Martyr's Hill. The heathen decapitated him there for his Christian faith. However, since the headless Denis was not standing on holy ground, he would not die there. What did he do? He picked up his head and walked to Paris. A friend of mine heard this story preached during a chapel service. It was all he could do to keep from bursting out in laughter. And St. Denis is not the only head carrier. Dozens of decapitated saints carried their living skulls to proper burial grounds, so the believers could collect their relics and venerate them. Again, these things could have transpired -- God has the power to do them -- but they strain our confidence to the breaking point. The trustworthiness of the hagiographer ends up eroded. Sadly, this freakish element pervades the history of the saints, and even colors the life of Mary, the mother of Jesus.
The intentions of the hagiographers were pure, we can be sure. They desired to magnify the miraculous power of God in the lives of His people and thus win the souls of unbelievers and bolster the faith of true believers. However, by stretching the truth, and overplaying the miracles of God, they ended up discrediting the cause of Christ. The Anabaptists were also guilty of inflating miracles during the Reformation. Modern power evangelists do it today. It is a constant temptation for the Church.
On the other hand, there is a danger of dismissing entirely the place of miracles. The lesson for this feast of St. Bartholomew is not to discount the miraculous altogether, rather to put it in its proper place. One extreme is just as foolish as the other. Enlightenment rationalism sanitizes the earth of anything and everything spiritual. Nothing supernatural is permitted. The Scriptures reject that worldview. The Bible suggests that earth's atmosphere is populated by angels and demons (Ephesians 6). Jesus Christ, the Lord of creation and ruler of history, personally sustains the world. At times He chooses to build His Church and succor His people with truly miraculous signs and wonders as He did in the Acts of the Apostles. He may one day bring about a dense cluster of miracles to win the Muslims; He may not. We would be foolish to close our minds to the possibility of miracles.
In a way we participate in a miracle at the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. Bread and wine are put on the table and we consecrate them. The Apostle Paul tells us in I Corinthians 10:16, "The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not the communion of the body of Christ?" In other words, when we come forward in faith, kneel at the rail and receive the bread and wine, the Holy Spirit causes the bread we eat to become the body of Christ; the wine we drink becomes His blood. Jesus sanctifies you. This is the miracle you are called to week after week. This one we can be sure of. Come now and partake of these life-giving, life-transforming elements (John 6:33, 51).
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