"When [the temple police] had brought [the apostles] before them, they had them stand before the council. The high priest questioned them, saying, 'We gave you strict orders not to teach in this name [of Jesus], yet here you have filled Jerusalem with your teaching and you are determined to bring this man's blood on us.' But Peter and the apostles answered, 'We must obey God rather than any human authority. The God of our ancestors raised up Jesus, whom you had killed by hanging him on a tree. God exalted him at his right hand as Leader and Savior that he might give repentance to Israel and forgiveness of sins. And we are witnesses to these things, and so is the Holy Spirit whom God has given to those who obey him.' When they heard this, they were enraged and wanted to kill them...." [Acts 5:27-32]
When you know who you are and what you are about, it is amazing how clear things become, and how free you become, to boot. When you know who you are and what you are about, all of a sudden, a whole lot of things you might have been afraid of before lose their power... and you are given the courage to endure whatever else remains.
I think that way, for example, about the timpani player in the orchestra. If you are sitting in the audience while the orchestra is playing some grand Beethoven symphony or something, the whole thing might look like a hurricane. Strings going one way in the violin section, brass blaring in another area, string basses pulling their bows like they are preparing for war. And it might look from the outside like an incredibly chaotic mess, too complicated for anybody for ever figure out where their entrance is. You've got to wonder how the timpani player knows when it's time for his two bars in the limelight of "DUN-dun-DUN-dun," especially when it would be terribly embarrassing to get the timing wrong and play the big finale at the wrong time. That might seem like an impossible thing to get right, if you are just an audience member listening to the symphony for the first time, worrying if the timpanist will get it right.
But if you actually happen to be the timpani player? Well, if you are the one standing in the percussion section, having practiced on your own, listened to recordings for hours, and rehearsed with the whole orchestra for weeks, and now are standing looking at your sheet music, things are different. You have clarity. You know what you are there to do. You know what to watch for. You are ready--even for that intense moment when the rest of the orchestra falls hushed and you break the silence alone with your mallets. The stakes are high, yes, but you can face it, because you have been prepared for this moment. You know who you are. You know what you are supposed to do. You have a clarity that might seem impossible to someone sitting in the balcony. And you are free--free and unencumbered for playing with all your might for your big finale.
I get that kind of sense from this important scene in the book of Acts. It's one of those moments where the people of Jesus have amazing clarity and freedom because they know exactly who they are and what they are about. The leaders of the early Christian movement--the apostles who had been Jesus' inner circle--had previously been rounded up by the police and told not to preach, teach, or heal in Jesus' name. They had been punished, imprisoned, and threatened over it, and the authorities had been insistent--no more. "You can't speak the name of Jesus anymore--it's the Law. Or, if it's not exactly a new law... well, it's our policy. So don't go naming the name of that Nazarene." Seems pretty cut and dry.
But the apostles were not intimidated. They were clear about who they were--they were (and are) Jesus people. And because they were clear that Jesus, the crucified and risen rabbi, was (and is) the very Lord of the universe and Messiah of God, they knew they were free not to obey an unjust law. They didn't have to be jerks about it. They didn't have to cause any violence or trouble while resisting. But they didn't have to obey. They, after all, had given their first and last allegiance to Jesus, and they understood that their faithfulness to the way of Jesus was a deeper commitment than their obligation to the powers of the day. The apostles would not use violence or chaos or hatred to attack those authorities, but they would not yield where their loyalty to Jesus came into conflict with the decrees of the powers. The apostles had an amazing freedom that way--they would not be beaten or threatened into silence because the rulers of the day didn't like it. They were free, because, like the timpanist reading the music, they knew that they might be the only ones making noise while everyone else was paused in silence. But when you are a timpani player, you just come to learn that there will be times when you are the only one playing, and you are no longer bound by the need to check what everybody else is doing for those last few measures of the finale. You know your notes, and you play them, even if the violins and cellos and woodwinds are silent at the moment. You are, in a word, free.
And at the same time, the apostles have clarity. They are free because they know exactly what they are about. They do not have to obey the authorities' attempt to silence them, because Jesus is the "Leader and Savior" to whom their allegiance belongs. And they do not have to be afraid of what the authorities or the temple police or the council think of them; their eyes are on Jesus. If a bossy second-violinist starts shushing you because their part says to be silent, a good timpanist will know to stay focused on the conductor's baton and to watch for the cue to play anyhow. When you are clear about the one from whom you are taking your cues, you know you don't have to pay attention to the bossy second-violin who assumes that your part is the same as his. You watch for the direction from the conductor, even when it means you stand out from the rest of the orchestra.
Now, all of that said, the apostles are clear about one thing further: they are prepared to suffer for speaking up and naming the name of Jesus. That, by the way, is precisely what happens--not only in this chapter of Acts, but throughout the story of the early church. The followers of Jesus were, of course, often run out of town, stones, fed to lions, tortured, imprisoned, or ostracized. And the followers of Jesus were neither surprised nor afraid when it happened. Clarity and freedom do not mean you get a pass on the hard stuff in life--they simply give you the capacity to move through it. The apostles know both that they are free from obeying the authorities' attempt to silence them, but also that the cost of not obeying will likely be to suffer. They may lose their social standing. They may become alienated from their friends. They will get locked up and thrown in jail. And they will risk getting beaten, whipped, punched, or worse. And amazingly, the apostles here do not run from that possibility or seek special treatment. They know that following Jesus will put them out of step sometimes with the world around them, and they are prepared to accept the consequences of that. That, too, is part of the clarity and freedom of knowing who they are and what they are about.
Today, the same will be true for the timpani section called the People of Jesus, the church. If we are clear about who we are (Jesus people) and what are we are about (embodying the way and grace of Jesus), we will find immense freedom and clarity. We will find the courage to play our notes in the limelight, even if we get the stink-eye from the second-violins who don't know that our part is different from theirs. We will have the focus on the conductor's baton rather than looking around us at what everyone else is doing. When you know the One from whom you are taking your cues, you are no longer ruled by fear of what anybody else thinks, or how anybody else plays their part. And you can play with full force even if everybody else is silent.
For us to live as the people of Jesus, we will need, like a good timpani player, to spend time with the musical score, studying the notations on the page and becoming immersed in the examples of how others have played before us. We will need to learn the style of our conductor to know how to watch for the cues. We will need to keep practicing with the rest of the orchestra, too, so that we can learn where our part fits in with the whole. Or, more literally, we will need to stay grounded in the Scriptures to let them paint a picture for what the Reign of God looks like, and we will need to be rooted in prayer and contemplation with the God to whom we look for cues, and we will spend time practicing the Christian life with one another in community, as the examples of others help me to find where I fit in the whole. We will together need to be prepared for the likely possibility that we will suffer for the sake of playing our parts, and we will need to find the courage to make the right kind of noise when the conductor gives us the cue.
All of that is possible for us because we can be clear about who we are... and what we are all about.
Keep your eyes open and focused on the Conductor today... right now... the big solo from the percussion section is coming up.
Lord Jesus, direct us as you will and give us the grace of being a part of your music in the world today. Give us clarity and freedom as we seek to join in your song.
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