May 3, 2015 Sunday School Lesson

Acts 10:34-43

Commentary on the Text:

Acts 10:1-11:18 is pivotal in the unfolding of the risen Lord Jesus' keynote words in Acts 1:8: "You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."

After Pentecost (Acts 2), the apostles and others began "proclaiming the good news about the kingdom of God and the name of Jesus Christ" to fellow Jews and even Samaritans. Acts 10 shows the first example of Jesus' followers proclaiming the gospel to Gentiles. Because the Roman centurion Cornelius was a "God-fearer" (Acts 10:2, 22) -- a Gentile who worshiped with Jews and who observed some of God's torah, without being circumcised or becoming a convert to Judaism, some believe that the first "full Gentiles" to receive the gospel were in Syrian Antioch (Acts 11:19-30). But, as "Hellenists" (v. 20) could mean Greek-speaking Jews, some think that the first actual Gentile believers lived in Pisidian Antioch (Acts 13:14, 44-49).

The author of Acts also wrote Luke: see Acts 1:1-2 and Luke 1:1-4; also compare their literary Greek, their style and vocabulary, and their emphases of content. It would be highly appropriate for the two-volume work to have been written, as traditionally understood, by Luke. Based on Colossians 4:10-14, Luke, "the beloved physician," was likely a Gentile. Luke and Acts, comprising more than one-fourth of the NT, might then have been the only NT books written by a Gentile follower of Jesus.

God was behind the events, including people's changes of perception in Acts 10-11, not the devout Cornelius or Peter, the foremost of Jesus' original apostles. Jesus had given Simon the nickname "Peter" -- see Luke 6:12-16; Matthew 16:17-18. He was quick to speak and rapidly assumed a key role among Jesus' followers (see the Gospels; and see Acts 1-12 where he is mentioned in every chapter, except 6-7). God gave mystical experiences to both Cornelius and Peter, which led Peter to go from the Mediterranean seaport of Joppa (Jaffa, now part of Tel-Aviv) to Caesarea, a seaport built by Herod the Great. In Caesarea Peter addressed Cornelius and his friends and relatives (10:24).

Peter's words would have shocked most Jews and Gentiles, in part because his words upset their distinctions. Many Gentiles in the Mediterranean world believed that Jews were unusually abstemious in their moral behavior and odd in insisting on Sabbath rest and in believing in but one god. And many Jews believed that God had chosen Jews alone as his special people; they also assumed that most Gentiles had filthy morals, corresponding to their "adulterous" belief in multiple gods. Just as in our time, tribalism often prevailed, with many in-group and out-group perceptions and consequent antipathy between various groups of people.

Accordingly, many of Peter's hearers would have been either rankled or amazed when the very Jewish follower of Jesus, Peter, uttered his first words (vv. 34-35), "I truly understand that God shows no partiality, but in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him." God is not an accepter/respecter of one person or group of people over another and thereby does not show favoritism; God looks beyond outward appearances. In the context of Luke-Acts, this is a strong message to followers of Jesus (then and now) that they/we are to see people with God's eyes, and not rank them by our human biases or perceptions, whether religious, ethnic or otherwise. We are not to exclude them from being worthy of hearing and responding to God's message and way through Jesus Christ. See Deuteronomy 10:14-19; parts of Isaiah 66; Matthew 28:18-20; Romans 2:11 ff.; 10:12-13; Galatians 3:26-29; Colossians 3:11; 1 Peter 1:17.

Thus in verse 35 Peter transforms the use of "every nation" from a once-loaded word to a positive concept. God's showing no partiality, along with his telling Peter to let go of his prior conceptions of clean and profane (10:14-16, 27-28), are closely associated with Peter's declaration that Jesus Christ is "Lord of all" (v. 36). The “everyone” who believes in him (v. 43) would then include peoples from all over God's world. Similar passages include those in Revelation 5:9-10 and 14:6 ("Then I saw another angel flying in” midheaven”, with an eternal gospel to proclaim to those who live on the earth -- to every nation and tribe and language and people").

Acts 10:34-43 can be understood as the gospel in a nutshell. God sent out the "message" preaching peace by Jesus Christ. What powerful words! For verse 37's mention of "the baptism that John [the Baptizer] announced a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins" (v. 3). John's words, which allude to Isaiah 40:3-5, conclude in Luke 3:6 with "and all flesh shall see the salvation of God." Acts 10:43 states: "Everyone who believes [or possibly "is trusting," in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name."

"God anointed [the Greek verb is related to the title "Christ," which means the same as the Hebrew title mashiach/Messiah] Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with power" (v. 38a). Luke and Acts emphasize the Holy Spirit more than any other biblical books. God was with him to do good and to heal those who were oppressed by the devil (v. 38b). But "they" (unspecified persons) put him to death "by hanging him on a tree" (v. 39b). This refers to Jesus' crucifixion and alludes to Deuteronomy 21:23 (see Galatians 3:13-14 for Paul's use of this verse). But God vindicated Jesus by raising him from the dead (v. 40).

Peter was among those whom God called as witnesses (people who speak about what they have seen or heard). Peter is among those who saw the risen Jesus and ate and drank with him (vv. 40-41). God commanded his chosen witnesses to preach to the people and to testify that Jesus is the one whom God ordained to be judge of the living and the dead (v. 42), meaning all humanity; see Acts 17:30-31. But negative judgment can be averted -- all who are trusting in Jesus receive forgiveness of sins through his name (v. 43 -- see above; also Luke 24:44-48 and Acts 4:8-12; Isaiah 53). The saving and transforming power of God through Jesus Christ is the central message of the NT. For the contextual follow-up to Acts 10:34-43, see Acts 10:44-48; 11:1-18; 15:7-9.

Lesson to Consider:

Partial Love

Something God cannot do: show partiality.

At a Glance

Parents usually profess to love their children equally, but in her book, The Favorite Child, Ellen Weber Libby says she discovered that many parents privately admit that they have a favorite child. The problem, says Libby, is not that one child might be preferred over another, but what the parent does with this knowledge. So, this leads us to discuss whether God has favorites.

"Sometimes the dog is my favorite child -- not often, but sometimes she is."

So says Jill Smokler, a Chicago mother of three (not counting the dog), who admits she sometimes favors one child over another. Jill is at the forefront of a growing parenting trend: not being afraid to admit she sometimes has a favorite child.

For years, "I love you all equally" has been the instant response of parents, when asked by their children if one of them is the favorite. Now, some parents are daring to admit they were fibbing all along.

Partly responsible for this trend are psychologists like Ellen Weber Libby, author of The Favorite Child (Prometheus Books, 2010). Libby sees more problems arising out of parents covering up their favoritism, because they've been taught it's the right thing to do. "Favoritism doesn't have to be bad," she says. "It's what we do with it that makes it disastrous or productive."

Libby believes many parents have shifting inclinations toward favoring one child or another, over time. Being open about this isn't harmful, she teaches, because each child benefits from the extra affirmation at different times. In the end, ?everyone ends up with some positive memories.

What do you think? Is this common sense -- or psychobabble?

Peter says, "God shows no partiality," and by that he means there's no favoritism, no preferential treatment. No one on this earth gets more love from God than any other person.

The Greek word translated "partiality" is uncommon. It renders a Semitic idiom that literally means "God is not one who receives human faces." God doesn't just glance at our faces and make a snap judgment, as so many of us do with our neighbors. God doesn't stop with the externals. God looks deep within.

Think of the last time you were in a busy train or bus station, or at an airport. Remember the sea of faces surging toward you, displaying a variety of expressions, a range of emotions. Remember, also, the skin colors, the body types, the clothing, the hair styles, the tattoos.

The human mind is a remarkable calculating engine. It draws so many conclusions in the barest instant of time. It makes judgments we're scarcely aware of. Can you even recall a few of the judgments your mind made, based on those faces you observed there, in the station or airport? Did you not pigeonhole a good many of those faces, categorizing them as foreigner or native-born, rich or poor, lazy or hard- working, dangerous or benign?

If so, you did what Peter says God never does. You "received human faces." You made a multitude of judgments, based on very little information at all.

Something that's partial is fragmentary, a piece of the whole. Human love is partial in just that sense. So many mixed motives affect our love for other people. Self-interest creeps in, spoiling the selfless, altruistic love to which we aspire.

There are lots of examples of partial, limited love. Three of them come to mind:

Loving the lovable

Often, the only love we're able to manage is loving the lovable. That's a curious word, "lovable." Usually, when we say a person is lovable, we mean the person is attractive, pleasing, gifted in some way, so as to win the affection of others. By definition, a lovable person is not hard to love.

Does God call us only to love the lovable? Of course not! When Jesus says, "Love your neighbor as yourself," he doesn't add the codicil, "that is, if your neighbor happens to be lovable." What kind of love would that be? Pretty shallow! No, the sort of love Jesus is encouraging is not about being attracted to another, as a moth is drawn by a porch light. It is, rather, the sort of love that gets up and does what the other person needs, no matter how tough that may be.

So, that's one kind of partial love: loving only the lovable.

Reciprocal love

Another type of partial love is all about gauging our love according to the possibility of receiving love in return. This is reciprocal love: "You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours."

Lots of human relationships are like that. It's a fine and helpful thing for two people to decide they're going to come together and meet each other's needs. Often we refer to this sort of love as a "partnership," highlighting the even exchange.

Yet, this, too, is only a partial love. What happens, for example, if one partner gets sick and is unable for a time to care for the partner's needs? Does the love-partnership fall apart at that point?

Some do. Plenty of couples have headed for separation or divorce out of a sense of unfairness, when one partner comes to believe the even exchange is no longer so even. The other partner is not holding up his or her end, is not doing enough. Any love that keeps score in such a way is only a partial love. It doesn't measure up to the ideal of selflessly caring for the other.

There are times and seasons, in some marriages, in some deep friendships, when one partner does end up carrying more of the weight of the relationship. That's not the way it's meant to be, of course, but sometimes it's just the way it is. The simple truth is that, if we're in a reciprocal relationship, there's always the temptation to engage in scorekeeping.

So that's the second kind of partial love: reciprocal love.

Controlling love

Another sort of partial love is controlling love. We've all known people like that: a spouse or a parent or someone else. An element of control often makes its way into human relationships. In such relationships, love is offered for a time, free and clear, then abruptly snatched away. Afterwards, love is usually kept in storage, to be trundled out the next time the controlling lover has need of it.

Controlling love, too, falls short of the full measure of love, the biblical ideal. By and large, controlling love is not the sort of love we see God exercising in the Bible. You'd think it would be just that way, in the uneven power-relationship of an omnipotent God and a frail and flawed people. But it's not. The track of God's love for Israel -- several millennia long but still in effect -- has had some rocky interludes. Even on their epic journey through the wilderness, the people of Israel sometimes acted foolishly and disobediently. God had to dispatch the prophets, one by one, to call them back to faithfulness. Were God's love controlling them, that never would have happened. But God's love is never a controlling love. The Lord values human freedom, knowing full well there are going to be times -- lots of times, to be perfectly honest -- when we'll greedily snatch up that freedom, then go out and abuse it.

That's not how it is with God's love. The love God offers is utterly free -- in the sense that we are always free to accept or reject it. Yes, it's true that if we wander away from the fold, God will go after us, as a shepherd seeks the lost sheep. But God never prevents us from leaving. The gate to the sheepfold is always open.

Complete love

It's not that there's anything terrible about these three limited types of love -- loving the lovable, reciprocal love and controlling love. They're still examples of love, and love is the one power in the universe that's universally good, even in partial form. A love that loves only the lovable can be shallow, but, as far as it goes, it's still love. A love that demands to be paid back can still bring much joy, as long as the other partner in the exchange continues to deliver. Even a controlling love can yield some benefits, contributing to the loved one's sense of worth.

So, if these are all partial forms of love, what does complete love look like?

Jesus gets at this when he teaches, "Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you." Can there be a more difficult teaching than that? Think of a terrorist event like the Boston Marathon Bombing. Remember the fear and anger that riveted the nation that day, and in the days of the manhunt that followed. Remember the wild speculation in the news media about who had committed this outrage, what links they might have had to terrorist organizations, and -- most troubling -- whether similar bombings might soon follow, in a coordinated assault on American democracy?

Then, a teenager was discovered cowering under the cover of a boat up on blocks in someone's driveway. He was wounded and bleeding. He was an American kid -- yes, foreign-born, but he did most of his growing-up here. He seemed so normal. His school friends had no idea. By all accounts, he had come under the spell of his charismatic, but deeply troubled, big brother.

There's little doubt he was guilty of a crime against humanity. The law offers little mercy to one such as he. Life in prison, with no parole, is the very best he can hope for.

Does Jesus really expect us to love him? Does Jesus really expect us to be anything other than partial in our loving?

Truth be told, we're sinners, so he probably doesn't expect that much. Yet, he places the ideal of selfless love out there before us, all the same. He sets the bar high. This life of Christian discipleship is a matter of reaching onward and upward after his example, trying our best to live as he lives, to love as he loves.

One thing we can say about this divine adventure called love. When we're in relationship with Jesus, when we allow his love to flow into us, then flow outward again into our flawed and fragile human relationships, we become capable of a deeper and more faithful way of loving. In a very real sense, the love we extend to others, at our best, is not partial at all. It is the full and complete love of Christ, that comes to us as an unmerited gift and that overflows into the lives of our friends and family and neighbors -- and yes, sometimes even perfect strangers.

Toward the end of 1 Corinthians 13, that well-known "hymn to love," Paul speaks of love in terms of partiality and completeness: "For we know only in part, and we prophesy only in part; but when the complete comes, the partial will come to an end." There's the model. There's the ideal.

We've got our work cut out for us.