Standing

At this point in the book of Acts, there is something that needs to be addressed. It won’t be a deep textual observation or Jewish hermeneutics. But it is one of the most profound truths I have experienced during my studies in the land of Israel and Turkey.

It doesn’t take long as you read the book of Acts to find that these early believers are taking an awful lot of heat from the world around them. Almost all of the early chapters contain stories of resistance and persecution. The most significant source of persecution seems to come from their own religious community. Remember, this corrupt Sanhedrin had already executed their leader; to continue to push this movement forward publicly is an incredible decision full of risk and danger for their own lives. But they do push forward. What strikes me as so significant is the manner in which they follow their rabbi.

Their rabbi had taught them how to do this. Back in the sermon on the mount, Jesus had given a teaching about responding to injustice. He told them that if they were struck on the right cheek to the turn the other. If they were sued for their outer cloak (tallit) they were to give their accuser the undergarments (haluk) as well. And if a soldier demanded they carry packs, they were to carry them an extra mile.

Many people hear Jesus’s words as purely pacifistic, but that’s not entirely true to context. When Jesus talks about the cheek being struck, he specifies the right cheek. In a world where all personal interaction is engaged with the right hand, to be struck on the right cheek would be a backhanded action. This was a demeaning strike meant for slaves and people of lower class. If you were struck on the left cheek, it would be with a fist. Jesus is telling his listeners that if they are treated like a lesser human being, they are to respond not with violence, but with a public display that shows the injustice for what it is. He is telling them to confront injustice by shining light in dark places.

“You just hit me like I am a piece of property. If you want to hit me, you can hit me like the human being I am.”

It’s not pacifism; but it’s not redemptive violence, either.

The same is true for the following examples. To sue someone for their cloak is incredibly unjust and breaks commands found in Deuteronomy. If someone wants to wrong you to that extent, Jesus says, just give them everything and stand naked before them — showing the injustice for what it is. A soldier was allowed by law to make you carry their pack for one mile; to demand more was against Roman law. Jesus says, if a solider wants to treat you like garbage, put him in the incredibly awkward position of volunteering to help him break the law.

Jesus’s first followers understood this teaching in a way that we, as twenty-first century American Christians, do not. Time and time again, I run into stories in Turkey of the ancient Church and the first Christians who were martyred for their faith. In the ruins of Heiropolis (close to Colossae and Laodecia) there sits a martyrium for Philip. According to church history, Philip was tortured to death at the city gates when he refused to denounce Christ. They hung him from the gate with a chain through his achilles tendons while they raped and crucified his seven daughters just out of his reach. According to the historian, the daughters died encouraging their father to remain steadfast and not deny Jesus.

In the book of Acts, we keep reading about the persecution of these first believers. Eventually, we run across the story of Stephen, who was stoned to death by the religious authorities. To be clear, the first Christians were not pacifists — they were confronting evil and shining light in dark places. But nor were they going to protect themselves and fight back.

To be clear, the apostles weren’t trying to obtain concealed carry permits. They were not fighting for their rights. They were not sitting around philosophically contemplating what they would do if someone broke into their house and began raping their children. Ask Philip; he lived it.

Now, please hear me, I’m not against concealed carry permits and I enjoy being able to own guns. But not for one moment do I think any of this is how the followers of Jesus went about bringing shalom to chaos. No, time after time, these forefathers of our faith modeled for us what it means to be a city on a hill and show what radical forgiveness looks like, because in the reality of the Kingdom of God, forgiveness has to win the day — not revenge, not self-preservation.

When John’s disciple Polycarp was brought to the arena in Smyrna, the soldier asked him to denounce Christ. In the famous story, Polycarp recounts how Christ has never let him down, so why would he repay such kindness with denial? As they begin to arrange the wood and nail him to the stake, Polycarp instructs them to stop, telling them that God will give him the perseverance to stand in the flames without being fastened. The soldiers lit the wood on fire and Polycarp was burned at the stake.

Philip and Polycarp were made out of the same stuff as people like Stephen.

Stephen did not start slinging stones back at his accusers in self-defense. Stephen was too busy praying that God would forgive them in their ignorance. Go ahead and read it in the Text (Acts 7).

One of the things I find so striking about the story of Stephen is found at the end of his life. As Stephen is being stoned to death, the Text tells us he looks up into heaven and says he can see the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God. Initially, that’s not an odd image; there are numerous places throughout the Scripture where you can find the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of God.

What is striking is that Jesus isn’t sitting. Jesus is standing.

This is the only place where Jesus is ever pictured standing at the right hand of God. While it’s possible I might be reading too much into this story, I see this as a picture of Jesus paying tribute to the first of his disciples who will take seriously the command to pick up their execution device and follow their rabbi.