The 260 Journey

Day 114

Today’s Reading: Acts 25

There are two ways to view yourself—from a photo or in a mirror. Photos are how we wished we looked. Mirrors are how we really look. One is fantasy, the other reality. We can fix our hair and our make-up for a photograph. But when we look into a mirror, that is the real us staring back. Until we see and acknowledge our real selves, we never understand our need for God. In other words, if our lives are constantly about over-inflating ourselves, we undervalue our need for a Savior.

In today’s reading, we find a very overrated moment. It’s men seeing their photo and not looking into the mirror.

Paul was on trial and about to go to Rome, but not without some overrated people showing up to see the “little man” who was changing the region with the message of Jesus. Look at this one verse in particular. The contrast of people is amazing: “On the next day when Agrippa came together with Bernice amid great pomp, and entered the auditorium accompanied by the commanders and the prominent men of the city, at the command of Festus, Paul was brought in” (Acts 25:23).

In this scene, we have the king of Judea, Agrippa, his wife, Bernice, and Festus, the procurator of Judea. There were the commanders and the prominent men of the city all in this one verse. But there was one other person there also.

In the midst of all this pomp, there was also one man in chains who was changing the world—the apostle Paul. All of those other people looked at their photos and decided how great they were. Paul looked into a mirror and realized what a great sinner he was. And the latter man changed a planet.

It says they came “amid great pomp.” An interesting tidbit: Pomp is the Greek word phantasia, from which we get fantasy. The photo was fantasy.

In the Daily Study Bible, William Barclay described the fantasy like this:

There is no more dramatic scene in all the New Testament. It was with splendour that Agrippa and Bernice had come. They would have worn their purple robes of royalty and the gold circlet of the crown on their brows. Doubtless Festus had donned the scarlet robe which a governor wore on state occasions. Close at hand there must have stood Agrippa’s court, and also in attendance were the most influential figures of the Jews. Close by Festus there would stand the captains in command of the five cohorts which were stationed at Caesarea; and in the background there would be a solid formation of the tall Roman legionaries on ceremonial guard. Into such a scene came Paul, the little Jewish tent-maker, with his hands in chains; and yet, from the moment he speaks, it is Paul who holds the stage.

Think of the contrast of having a tentmaker in chains and a king in purple, and people forgetting that the man in chains was really the man in authority in that room.

This story made me think about Mother Teresa’s speech at the Washington, D.C. prayer breakfast on February 3, 1994. Three thousand people attended the event, mostly DC officials. The president and first lady, Bill and Hillary Clinton, were there, along with the vice president and second lady, Al and Tipper Gore.

Mother Teresa stood to speak, and the room’s atmosphere became intensely uncomfortable when she started by saying, “I feel that the greatest destroyer of peace today is abortion, because Jesus said, ‘If you receive a little child, you receive me.’ So every abortion is the denial of receiving Jesus, the neglect of receiving Jesus.”

Journalist Peggy Noonan recounted the scene:

Silence. Cool deep silence in the cool round cavern for just about 1.3 seconds. And then applause started on the right hand side of the room, and spread, and deepened, and now the room was swept with people applauding, and they would not stop for what I believe was for five or six minutes.

But not everyone applauded. The president and the first lady, seated within a few feet of Mother Teresa on the dais, were not applauding. Nor were the vice president and Mrs. Gore. They looked like seated statues at Madame Tussaud’s. They glistened in the lights and moved not a muscle, looking at the speaker in a determinedly semi-pleasant way.

Mother Teresa was not part of the Washington elite, but she had a message. She didn’t talk about airy, politically correct issues that everyone could get behind. Instead, she dug in and spoke of God-honoring ways to combat abortion. “It was all so unhappily unadorned, explicit, impolitic,” Noonan continues. “Mother Teresa seemed neither to notice nor to care. She finished her speech to a standing ovation and left as she had entered, silently, through a parted curtain, in a flash of blue and white. . . . She could do this, of course, because she had a natural and unknown authority.”

I love that story and the images it evokes. It looks like Acts 25 between three thousand Agrippas and a little apostle named Paul. Imagine it, a tiny slightly slumped-over woman standing on a box to allow her to be seen over the lectern and addressing some of the most powerful men and women in the world. And packed into that aging frame was enough authority to lay low anyone who dared raise a finger in opposition. You tell me who was the most powerful person in that banquet hall that day? And you tell me who was overrated?

Such is the power of truth when spoken with authority. It silences all the critics.

Day 113

Today’s Reading: Acts 24

Recently I read a quote about being good stewards of our time and made me sit back and really think about what I do with the time God has given me:

Each new day brings us 24 hours, 1440 minutes, 86,400 seconds, each moment a precious gift from God . . . each calling for us to be good stewards, mindful that one day we must give an account for how we spent the time God loaned us, how effectively we “bought up” the opportunities He provided.

William Penn once said, “Time is what we want most, but what, alas! we use worst.”

Acts 24 is about a man who did not use time effectively. The man, Felix, was a king, and he heard a three-point sermon preached by one of the best, the apostle Paul. It was a sermon that made a king tell the preacher to stop:

Some days later Felix arrived with Drusilla, his wife who was a Jewess, and sent for Paul and heard him speak about faith in Christ Jesus. But as he was discussing righteousness, self-control and the judgment to come, Felix became frightened and said, “Go away for the present, and when I find time I will summon you.” At the same time too, he was hoping that money would be given him by Paul; therefore he also used to send for him quite often and converse with him. But after two years had passed, Felix was succeeded by Porcius Festus. (Acts 24:24-27)

Listen to an old Methodist preacher, Halford Luccock, and what he makes of Felix’s mistake:

There is a unique characteristic about time which we overlook: We can lose time, but we can never find it. We have to make it. Felix found lots of moments for what he wanted to do—to satisfy his curiosity about Paul and open the way for a bribe. We read that he would send for him “pretty frequently” (Acts 24:26), but he found no moments to face the big issue squarely and render a judgment. Such moments are never found. They must be made.”

And what we conclude from the passage is that Felix never found time to deal with the most important issue of his life—eternity. Here is how it reads in The Message, and it’s raw:

As Paul continued to insist on right relations with God and his people, about a life of moral discipline and the coming Judgment, Felix felt things getting a little too close for comfort and dismissed him. “That’s enough for today. I’ll call you back when it’s convenient.” (Acts 24:25)

To say, “I don’t have time,” is like saying, “I don’t want to” or “I’m not interested.” I read something that is only too true: “Time is a strange commodity. You can’t save it, borrow it, loan it, leave it, or take it. You can only do two things with it—use it or lose it.”

Felix lost it.

A. W. Tozer said it like this: “When you kill time, remember that it has no resurrection.”

Felix heard a sermon that keyed in on righteousness, self-control, and the judgment to come. And he got frightened. I know that feeling. It happened to me. I was twelve years old and picked up a comic book at a youth camp, called The Late Great Planet Earth. It was the kid version of the book by the same name by Hal Lindsey, that dealt with the end times and the judgment to come. I was struck with such conviction and fear that I was not ready for the rapture that I sought out my counselor to get things right with God.

What I learned was this, when you don’t do something about the conviction of the soul, the intensity does not get stronger. The opposite happens and it lessens. The more we ignore the voice of God toward obedience, the more difficult it is to act.

When God speaks, respond. When you feel convicted about something, do something. Felix got convicted and all he did for two years was listen to Paul but would not respond. It seems he never felt that way again, and by verse 27 he was out and another king came in.

Make use of time wisely, especially if it is dealing with your soul and eternity. As Mother Teresa allegedly said, “Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today. Let us begin.” Amen.

Day 112

Today’s Reading: Acts 23

My father used to use a phrase when we were about to get spanked when we were kids—The bag is getting full. It meant that a bunch of things we did were adding up, and he couldn’t take anymore. Have you ever just got so full that you could not take anymore and you lose it? Words come flying out. Maybe even a profanity or two. Things are said that if somebody heard you, they wouldn’t know you’re a Christian.

In Slaying the Giants in Your Life, David Jeremiah writes on anger:

Road rage, parking rage, air rage, boat rage, surf rage, fishing rage, river rage, pedestrian rage, pavement rage, jogger rage, biker rage, trucker rage, cell phone rage, shopping rage, grocery cart rage, and checkout line rage. I’m told there’s such a thing as pew rage. . . . What makes anger so elusive and so incredibly dangerous is that it flares suddenly, powerfully, and irrationally. It takes no counsel of the future. It takes no consideration of personal safety.

This kind of stuff would seem like it would hit new converts. And it does. Can it hit mature Christians? It does. The bag can get full, and we lose it. Can it hit super Christians? Big time believers? How about Paul the apostle? Absolutely. We have a time in Acts when Paul lost it, Christian cursing. Read it for yourself:

Paul, looking intently at the Council, said, “Brethren, I have lived my life with a perfectly good conscience before God up to this day.” The high priest Ananias commanded those standing beside him to strike him on the mouth. Then Paul said to him, “God is going to strike you, you whitewashed wall! Do you sit to try me according to the Law, and in violation of the Law order me to be struck?” But the bystanders said, “Do you revile God’s high priest?” And Paul said, “I was not aware, brethren, that he was high priest; for it is written, ‘You shall not speak evil of a ruler of your people.’” (Acts 23:1-5)

It may not read as bad as it sounds. It was bad. Paul got slapped in the face for saying that his conscience was clear before God. It seemed to have a sense of sarcasm in it as he stood before the Council. And then after he was struck in the mouth, Paul lost it. He called Ananias a “whitewashed wall” and then stared him down, saying, “Do you sit to try me . . . and . . . order me to be struck?”

When you call someone a “whitewashed wall,” you are saying that person may dress well and look good on the outside but something stinks on the inside. Everyone in Paul’s presence knew what it meant. It was a common insult; a curse word to call someone, if that would make sense.

He was saying to them, “You stink!” Or, “This stinks!”

Let me tell you about Paul’s week before we get hard on him. It’s not to excuse him but to show you that we all can lose it when our bags get full. To explain better, let me use Charles Swindoll’s words from his Acts commentary:

Let me give you a little reminder of the kind of week that the apostle Paul has just had before entering into the situation of chapter 23 of Acts. So far this week he has been beaten by a mob (21:27-32), bound in chains (21:33), had his death demanded by a group of zealous Jews (22:1-22) and then came within a hairsbreadth of being scourged (22:23- 29). Now he wants to know for certain why he has been accused by the Jews. . . . Having little sleep, food, or physical care, he stands weary and bruised before the highest Jewish court, the Sanhedrin.

All that added up to this moment. The bag got full, and a flood came out of Paul. Controlling himself no longer, he suddenly poured out a scalding stream of contempt directed at his accusers and judges. In effect, Paul called the judge a stinking hypocrite. This was more flesh than spirit. Correction, it was all flesh and no spirit.

He realized his mistake when a bystander rebuked him. Paul had not been part of this council for some twenty years and would not have known who the high priest was at the present time. Whatever the reason, the damage was done. In a heated moment, Paul said the wrong thing to the wrong person and lost his opportunity to receive a fair trial—but more importantly, he blew his opportunity to explain the gospel.

Now he had nothing but a red mark on his face and was sent back to jail, left with only himself and his condemning thoughts. Imagine Paul in his cell, thinking, I had a once-in-a-lifetime chance to preach the gospel to the highest Jewish court in the land and I blew it. How stupid it was to lose my temper. Surely God put me there to touch the Jewish elite, and all I could do was curse them out.

That night . . . in a prison cell . . . no angel. He didn’t deserve one. That is why God is a God of mercy.

Who showed up? The Lord. Paul did not need an angel, he needed a Friend:

On the night immediately following, the Lord stood at his side and said, “Take courage; for as you have solemnly witnessed to My cause at Jerusalem, so you must witness at Rome also.” (Acts 23:11)

God said nothing about the failure. Instead He spoke to him about the future. When Paul lost it, God continued to stand at his side. Now that is one incredible God. He stands closest when we blow it the most.

Have you ever felt like your tongue cost you an opportunity? You don’t have plans to lose it, but you know it can happen.

Though our actions can be unpredictable, I am thankful for a God who is very predictable: He is merciful and kind. He is gracious and loving.

Notice one amazing thing about that night. Jesus said to Paul, “So you must witness at Rome also.” He gave him encouragement so Paul would know that God sees future for him. I love these words from Brennan Manning: “God not only loves me as I am, but also knows me as I am. Because of this I don’t need to apply spiritual cosmetics to make myself presentable to Him.”

God loves you unconditionally, as you are and not as you should be, because nobody is as they should be.

Day 111

Today’s Reading: Acts 22

The apostle Paul met Jesus on the road to Damascus in Acts 9. That was AD 34. It was an amazing story of Paul encountering the resurrected Jesus. Our chapter today is Acts 22, and we find here, thirteen chapters later, that Paul is telling his story from chapter 9. This was in AD 59, twenty-five years after his conversion, he is still telling about his encounter with Jesus with a freshness and a conviction as though it had happened just the day before.

Paul’s story is not in a church after a powerful worship service. He is telling his story in Jerusalem to a hostile mob. Their hostility is in chapter 21, when they beat him and have him in chains. But Paul wants to speak, which is what we read in chapter 22. This is what Paul says to the hostiles:

“It happened that as I was on my way, approaching Damascus about noontime, a very bright light suddenly flashed from heaven all around me, and I fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to me, ‘Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me?’ And I answered, ‘Who are You, Lord?’ And He said to me, ‘I am Jesus the Nazarene, whom you are persecuting.’ And those who were with me saw the light, to be sure, but did not understand the voice of the One who was speaking to me. And I said, ‘What shall I do, Lord?’ And the Lord said to me, ‘Get up and go on into Damascus, and there you will be told of all that has been appointed for you to do.’ But since I could not see because of the brightness of that light, I was led by the hand by those who were with me and came into Damascus.” (verses 6-11)

There’s an old saying, “A man who has an argument is always at the mercy of a man who has an experience.” Paul had an experience that he is willing to die for. It’s so important to him, in fact, that he tells that story three times in the book of Acts. The last time he tells it is in Acts 26, which is AD 62, twenty-eight years after his conversion.

Your story of you and God is powerful. It’s not old though you may be. It is important and people need to hear it. And you need to tell it. When you don’t know what to say when you are engaged in a talk about religion with someone, tell them your story. Ask them, “Can I tell you my personal story that changed me forever?” Paul did that, and his audience was a tough crowd.

But also, your story never gets old. Tell it even if it’s thirty years old. You may be older but God is the same. It’s still effective. It seems there is no expiration date on telling it. That’s what we see with the apostle Paul.

One of my spiritual heroes and ministry partners is ex-gang member Nicky Cruz. His story is told in The Cross and the Switchblade. Nicky was part of the notorious New York City gang, the Mau Maus. David Wilkerson went to New York City in 1958 and won Nicky to the Lord.

I’ve had the privilege to preach with Nicky around the world, and each time he will tell his conversion story, much as Paul did, with the same passion and conviction. No matter how many years had passed since Nicky’s story, it’s powerful every time. His story has literally brought tens of thousands to Christ.

Don’t underestimate the power of your testimony. It’s funny, Paul never referred to his Epistles when he talked to people. He never said, “I wrote this letter that one day will be part of the Bible, so you should listen.” He told his story. Before you quote the Bible, you may be able to lessen the gap for people by telling them what changed your life.

When you tell your story, as Paul did, you are using one of the weapons God gave us to conquer the devil. Listen to it in the book of Revelation: “They defeated him by the blood of the Lamb and by their testimony” (Revelation 12:11, TLB).

You may think, my story is not that great. It may not be as dramatic as Nicky’s or Paul’s, but it’s still powerful. Consider what Louie Giglio said about testimonies:

People say all the time “I don’t have a good testimony” because they think their story has to involve some dramatic story of change from “bad” to “good.” But Jesus didn’t come to save people this way. Sin doesn’t make us bad, it makes us dead. Jesus came to save by bringing the dead to life. And that’s an amazing testimony.

That means, you too have an amazing testimony. Share it.

Day 110

Today’s Reading: Acts 21

In order to talk about Acts 21 today, I have to tell you a story with a big gap. Technology has made the world a neighborhood. Because of technology, people get famous real fast today. If you have a smart phone, you have a camera. And with social media, you have an audience. And if enough people watch it, you can be viral.

Did you know that 42 percent of the world population is twenty-four years old and younger? If that’s true, then technology is their life. All that being possible, remember that viral doesn’t last long. It’s fake fame. They call it your “fifteen minutes of fame.”

The authentic has longevity to it. It’s the difference between buying a ten-dollar, knock-off Rolex watch on the streets and the authentic ten thousand dollar one in a high-end jewelry store. Which one lasts longer? The authentic has longevity.

I want to show you someone who lasted a long time because he was authentic. His name was Philip, and his story starts in Acts 6 and goes through Acts 8. Let me tell you his quick viral story and then a huge gap.

He became the first deacon in the church. Then he led an all-city revival in Samaria. He also led to the Lord a number-one occult leader named Simon. Then he got into a conversation with an angel, and the angel sent him to talk to an Ethiopian, who many believe is responsible for the gospel going to Africa. Philip led him to Christ and baptized him. And for his finale . . . after Philip baptized him, he vanished!

Two men went into the water, and only one, the Ethiopian, came out: “When they came up out of the water, the Spirit of the Lord snatched Philip away; and the eunuch no longer saw him” (Acts 8:39). That seems to be the last time we see Philip.

The book of Acts spans thirty-two years, from AD 30 to AD 62. Acts 6 (Philip’s introduction) happened in AD 31. That was when he became a deacon. By the time we reach Acts 21, our chapter for today’s reading, it was AD 59. And something crazy happened in AD 59. Philip showed up again!

He reappeared after twenty-eight years: “On the next day we left and came to Caesarea, and entering the house of Philip the evangelist, who was one of the seven, we stayed with him. Now this man had four virgin daughters who were prophetesses” (Acts 21:8-9).

That’s the Acts 6–8 Philip. Today we are reading about the twenty-eight-years-later Philip. If it’s real, it lasts.

I see three key words in those Acts 21 verses that make him a legacy and a legend: balance, current, priority.

Balance: His home life was just as important as his church life. The passage says that Paul was “entering the house of Philip.” Philip was thirty years older and his home was a refuge for Paul on his journey. I love that when Paul needed a home to go to in Caesarea, he could go to Philip’s. Philip wasn’t some bitter, retired pastor who got burned by the ministry or the church. He was not divorced and living with his third wife.

Current: Philip was not just about what God had done in his life, but about what God was still doing. He was called “Philip the evangelist.” He was not Philip the deacon or the baptizer. That was chapters 6–8 Philip, this is chapter 21 Philip. If he had the same old names, then it would have been the same old stories.

If anyone would have had old stories, it would have been Philip: “Yeah, I was the first deacon . . .” Every time Philip saw a water baptism in his church, he would have said, “That’s great, but let me tell you about what happened at my water baptism thirty years ago.” But that wasn’t Philip. He was current!

We need to stop with what we did and tell what we are we doing now for Jesus. We need to be current with the people in our lives. We must never make Christianity ancient when Jesus is alive and active right now!

Priority: Good stuff does not come without work. I see good stuff when I read about Philip’s children. Two words stand out: virgin and prophetesses. Those are big words because they describe moral purity and calling. Those two things don’t happen on accident. Someone took time with those four girls for them to be virgins and prophetesses.

Philip wasn’t just ministering to widows in Acts 6 and to an Ethiopian in Acts 8. He was influencing his daughters in Acts 21. That is a lesson for all of us.

I find it interesting that the book of Acts is not called the book of Truths. It isn’t about knowing stuff; it’s about doing stuff. Knowledge of the Bible does not guarantee application or action of Bible verses. To know does not mean we will necessarily do.

How do we make an impact after three decades? We pursue balance, stay current, and have strong priorities.

That’s why we are reading about Philip in Acts 21. It is a challenge for all of us. It’s a challenge for me with my four children. I hope it is for you today, too.