Jesus Among Zeus & Hermes

A few months back I met a young Muslim man here at church. We traded information and met for coffee to talk religion. I was thrilled to get an invite to the local mosque for what we would describe as Bible study—Qur’an study. I sat kind of on the outside of the room as they went through their prayers, but was able to be an active participant in the study discussion on the story of Joseph. I had an absolute blast comparing and contrasting the account in the Qur’an with the account in the Bible. We were forward about our beliefs, but very respectful and friendly. If I had more time, I’d go back more regularly.

More recently, I was on a cave tour near the Dells—just Becca and I and a young tour guide. Naturally, I got him talking about religion. He identified himself as a Christian, but made a couple comments that undermined this claim—the most problematic being, “It doesn’t matter what you believe, as long as everyone respects each other.”

I wish I had my new Muslim friends in mind when I responded, because while we were certainly respectful of each other both sides thought the other was damnably incorrect. Religious pluralism—the idea that all religions contain elements of the truth, all roads lead to the same god—is impossible.

In our story this evening, the Lystrans make sense of Paul’s preaching and healing through the lens of their own religion. If my cave guide is right, this is no problem—”it doesn’t matter what you believe, as long as everyone respects each other.” But this isn’t what we find at all. Paul doesn’t watch as they bring out oxen and garlands and chant and sing and respond, “Thank you for sharing your culture with me!” No, Paul graciously but truthfully calls the Lystrans to abandon their false religion and receive the abundant life that is life with Christ.

Proposition: Our love for truth and for neighbor moves us to engage other religions knowledgeably and thoroughly.

Organizational Sentence: Before we can examine Paul’s model for engaging other religions, we must first understand what the healing of the lame man represented and how the Lystrans interpreted it.

1. The Facts Behind the Healing (14:8-10)

Paul and Barnabas are on what we call their 1st Missionary Journey. They’ve preached the Gospel on the island of Cyprus (13:5-12), in Antioch (13:16-41), and in Iconium (14:1). Because of persecution from the Jews in Iconium, we’re told that Barnabas and Paul (14:6,7) “fled to Lystra...and there they continued to preach the Gospel.” So when it says that the lame man (14:9) “listened to Paul speaking,” we have a pretty good idea of what Paul was saying. Trust not in your own power, trust in the Christ who’s blood of atonement has brought salvation to the ends of the earth.

And there a man sits. Three times Luke reiterates his ailment: 1) he could not use his feet; 2) he was crippled from birth; 3) he had never walked. It’s almost as though Luke is being a bit condescending to the read: Get the picture yet? The guy ain’t moving and he won’t move ‘cause he can’t move—he’s just sitting there...and he listened. The man, powerless to work or earn or even move heard the Gospel and has faith. In the same way that Jesus healed the lame man’s body to show that the lame man’s sins were forgiven, Paul perceiving faith performs an external sign to prove the internal reality.

Reformer Konrad Pellikan explains in his commentary on our passage, “[The man’s] appearance fit with the message, for Paul was teaching the Lycaonians how we, who are too weak by nature to walk in the way of piety, can expiate our sins and obtain salvation, not by our own righteousness, but we have Christ offered to us, in whom and through whom all those who believe are justified and endowed with eternal salvation.”

In the same way that our regeneration by the Spirit far exceeds our expectations—more than we could ask or imagine—so does the extent of the healing in the lame man. Paul says, “Stand up,” but the man “sprang up and began walking!” To the extent that the lame man represents a picture of Gospel transformation, I wonder if we rightly consider the abundance that is regenerate life with Christ? The man who was definitely, totally, for sure just sitting there and definitely, totally, for sure not moving “sprang up and began walking.” We, who were dead in our sins and trespasses, likewise can say “spring up, o well, and give my soul life abundantly.” This is the joy of the Gospel, the power of the Gospel, the transformation the Gospel produces in the lives—future, but also present—of believers.

Do you have this? When people ask you, “How’s life?” do you answer, “Abundant.” If people came in here and observed our fellowship and our worship, would they describe us as “springy”? A young child from our congregation recently asked me, “If we’re worshiping God, shouldn’t the people in the front be smiling?” When I responded yes, certainly, I was met with, “Then why aren’t they?” Oof. The healing of the lame man ought to encourage us to be “springy” Spirit-filled singers, with joy, joy, joy, joy down in our hearts.

Unfortunately, the beauty of this Gospel is entirely lost on the Lystrans, who interpret the miracle healing through their own religious lens.

2. The Facts Behind the Worship (14:11-13)

The Lystrans have their own religious presuppositions (or assumptions), their own religious text, and their own religious worship. Without needing to be taught or influenced, they lift a unified voice. Together, they immediately interpret that the gods have become men. Here we see the influence of their religious presuppositions—the assumptions that they hold that help them make sense of the world. They presuppose, or assume, several things: there are gods (plural), gods can manifest as human beings, only gods perform miracles. More under the surface, they presuppose religious pluralism; in other words, they are very comfortable taking this teaching about Jesus and just fitting in to their myths and stories. In fact, early Christians were often called “atheists” because they were the only people rejecting the gods—everyone else just added their gods to the list. Religious pluralism was the dominant idea of the day. Greeks and Romans had their own gods and mythologies, but easily merged these ideas. For example, the Roman gods Jupiter and Mercury are just another cultures way of understanding the Greek gods Zeus and Hermes—and they’ll just toss Jesus in there somewhere, too.

There is a vast library of sources for Greco-Roman mythology. One large writing by Roman author Ovid is called Metamorpheses. Ovid, writing during the time of Christ, is collecting myth stories for his roman audience. One story he recounts takes place very near Lystra. The Roman gods Jupiter and Mercury take on the form of man and visit a little town in a valley. “Jupiter once came here, disguised as a mortal, and with him his son, the messenger Mercury, wand and wings set aside.” They go from house to house looking for hospitality, and find that only one household is willing to open their doors to them—an old, plain couple named Baucis and Philemon. They work very hard to give these gods very plain hospitality. As a result, “At last King Jupiter gently addressed them: “You good old man, and you the wife that his goodness deserves, now name whatever boon you desire.” Very sweetly, the old couple asks that when they die, they might die at the same time so they won’t have to be alone. They receive this, and the rest of the town—for their inhospitality—becomes a lake. And the final line, the point, of the whole story is this: “Let those who are loved by the gods be gods, and those who have worshipped be worshipped.”

Every commentary on Acts that I have agrees that this myth is influencing the Lystrans behavior in Acts 14. Jupiter and Mercury, or Zeus and Hermes, have returned (they’ve come back) and they won’t mess up this time! They identify Barnabas as Zeus and Paul as the messenger Hermes. The Lystrans are well aware that if they show proper hospitality to the gods, the gods will grant them a wish. Even more, they’ll be counted as gods and worthy of worship. If they get this right, they could please the gods. And brothers and sisters, this is the framework of nearly ever other major world religion in all of time: Perform well enough for the diety, and you will receive special grace or special status or special blessings. It’s Hinduism, it’s Islam, it’s Buddhism, it’s Mormonism, and on and on.

So, to please the gods the people worship with oxen and garlands. Oxen were the largest domestic animals, and therefore most expensive and most pleasing sacrifice you could bring. Garlands were, among other things, worn to demonstrate reverence or for special occasions. In other words, it was their version of Easter worship in their Easter dresses. They were going to do it right, they were going to do it big, and the gods were going to really bless them this time.

Thanks be to God that this kind of performative worship is never what the true and Triune God has desired. The very first rule Leviticus gives about proper worship of God is this: the size of the offering doesn’t matter. Leviticus 1:3-9, “If the offering is a bull...it is a pleasing aroma to the Lord.” Leviticus 1:10-13, “If the offering is a sheep or goat...it is a pleasing aroma to the Lord.” Leviticus 1:14-17, “If the offering is a pigeon...it is a pleasing aroma to the Lord.” God doesn’t desire bulls, He asks for a contrite heart.

Barnabas and Paul watches as these people spin out trying so hard to win the favor of the gods with the best they have to offer, and he responds with a wonderful example of what it looks like to engage with other religions.

3. Engaging Other Religions (14:14-18)

They do this in three steps: motivations, actions, and results.

We have to first understand their motivations. Here I have to make a confession. So much of my evangelistic work is tainted by the sins of pride and greed. I’m too easily motivated by the idea of a big church or the worldly standard of a “successful” or “thriving” ministry. Barnabas and Paul are motivated to “rush out” and engage with these people, and the way they “rush it” is describe with two attendant circumstances. There are two ways in which Paul and Barnabas “rush out.”

First, they tore their clothes. This is a sign of lament and confession; it’s a physical expression of a spiritual yearning. Barnabas and Paul saw false worship offered to a false god and it grieved their souls to see God dishonored in this way. Their rushing out to engage this other religion is motivated first by a love for God and His truth. Then, second, the rush to the people “crying out.” They want these people to hear the message, to know the truth. They are motivated by a love for God but also by a love for neighbor. They cry out, they plead with the people to consider again. The apostles are motivated by a deep and sincere love for God and a deep and sincere love for these strange neighbors; motivated by is important here. They don’t just have a deep love for God and neighbor, they are motivated by a deep love for God and neighbor. Those two things are different, because having something doesn’t necessitate action—motivation does.

Barnabas and Paul’s love for God and neighbor moves them to “rush out into the crowd.” Just like the motivation has to be right, so does the activity. Notice what they do not say: “You imbeciles! Weren’t you listening five minutes ago? If you don’t get your behinds into that synagogue and start worshiping rightly now, we’ll leave tomorrow and you’ll never see us again!” No, that’s not the kind of rushing out Luke describes here. Remember our lesson from Acts 2:42-47 several weeks back: people are almost never moved to opt into your ministry/church by finger waging. Why would they willingly opt into that? People are moved to opt into your church when they witness genuine Christlike behavior and transformation. The apostles don’t rush into the crowd with finger waging, they do so in ways very similar to what we found last week in Acts 17.

They begin by listening. Verse 14 says that all their activity—the tearing of the clothes, the rushing out, the crying out—is all a response to what they heard. How much listening do we do in our own mission fields? I know a lot of times my approach is to talk my way into spiritual conversations. I could improve at listening first. What about these Muslim worshippers just down the road? Have we taken the time to listen to their religious presuppositions, religious text, and religious worship? Are we familiar with their beliefs, informed, or do we just parrot a thing or two we heard some talking head say once? We had an Adult Sunday School session in the last year that might have really helped some of you with that. Are we listening? And I wonder if we listened, how much more acutely we could respond to what is lacking spiritual in our non-believing neighbors.

Then, after they listen, Paul and Barnabas dialogue. I assume it’s Paul who speaks here beginning in verse 15 (since he spoke earlier and they saw him as the messenger). The first thing out of Paul’s mouth is a question, “Men, why are you doing these things?” Now, I think you could rightly interpret that as a rhetorical question, but based on what we know of Paul’s approach (last week in Acts 17 as a prime example), I wonder if it isn’t a legitimate question. “Men, tell me, why are you doing this? Tell me why, what does your text say? What are your presuppositions? I want to know.”

I think this is right, because when it comes time for Paul to give an answer, it is right on the money. Paul brilliantly threads the needle that is grace and truth. t is aimed square at the spiritual-lacking of these poor performing people. After they listen and after they dialogue, they present the good news. While the dominant worldview of the day is pluralism—condoning all kinds of gods and religious expression—Paul does not shy away from calling their gods vain and, by inference, dead. This is the hard truth. But again, he doesn’t just leave them with this condemnation. He offers them this incredible grace and peace.

Imagine the life of the average Lystran: always looking over your shoulder wondering if the gods were pleased, offering sacrifices expecting to receive blessing, but not always or even not often receiving it. Perhaps you offered a goat in hopes of good rain for your crops, and you got it! Then the next year you offer a goat and don’t get good rain. So the year after you offer two goats, and you make an extra trip a week to the temple to Zeus. Always guessing, always wondering, always working, always performing, exhausted. To that person, Paul says this: “There is one God who made all things, and He cares for you. In fact, even in the Old Covenant when he allowed your ancestors to walk in evil ways, He was still good to you. What’s more, He’s not only been good to your bodies by giving you good food, He’s actually being good for your heart. That’s the God I’m asking you to put your faith in today, the God with an easy and light yoke, the God who loves you.”

Can you imagine the hope and peace that offering was for the average Lystran, standing there in his garland? Brothers and sisters, the weight of performance that the Lystrans felt is the same weight of performance our Muslim and Mormon neighbors feel. Paul’s example religious engagement is as pertinent to us today as ever. We, too, can speak the truth in love and call our friends and neighbors to leave behind vain and dead gods to put their faith in a God of abundance.

But, just as we must engage in this activity with proper motives on the front end, we must also have proper expectations of the results on the other end. Barnabas and Paul, models as they are, “Scarcely restrained the people from offering sacrifice to them.” Nothing about conversions, nothing about repentance, nothing about the Holy Spirit falling and the entire household receiving baptism. No, they just barely slowed them down.

Early in his career, Martin Luther was favorable toward the Jews. In 1523, just a few years after the 95 Thesis moment, he wrote an essay titled, “That Jesus Christ Was Born a Jew,” encouraging Christians to engage with Jewish people, showing them by the Scriptures that Christ was the promised Messiah. But Martin Luther had the wrong results in mind. Luther thought this would be easy, it was so obvious in the Scriptures after all. When it wasn’t, Luther’s opinion of Jews and Judaism changed dramatically. 20 years later, Luther would write another essay—this one titled, “On the Jews and Their Lies”—rebuking the Jews, calling them all sorts of awful names and even encouraging the destruction of Jewish temples and Jewish homes. Martin Luther thought this would be easy, and when it wasn’t his attitude toward those in other religions soured.

The example we receive in Acts is quite different. Even with great difficulty, Paul and Barnabas barely accomplish anything. In fact, here in Lystra Paul is stoned. Narrowly escaping with his life, Paul and Barnabas go to Derbe. Then what? Run away from Lystra and never return? Nope! (14:21-22) “They returned to Lystra and to Iconium and to Antioch, strengthening the souls of the disciples, encouraging them to continue in the faith, and saying that through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God.” Paul turned around and came right back, because he didn’t expect it to be easy. Rather, he knew it would be hard.

Brothers and sisters, God is calling us to do something hard when he asks us to make disciples of every nation, tribe and tongue. Don’t get down. Don’t give up. Don’t sit out. When you feel like you’re not making any progress for the Kingdom, get “springy,” draw from the well of Living Water that never runs dry, and keep walking after Jesus.

Amen.