David Bahn – Reflections

“Hope is a dangerous thing,” says Red to Andy in the movie Shawshank Redemption. Andy has just said, “You’ve gotta have hope!” But Red has been in prison far too long. And his hopes have been crushed – or rather he’s never allowed himself to hope in his hopeless situation. That certainly is one way to handle difficult and seemingly hopeless situations.

Paul urges a different approach. He claims his ultimate hope in God. This will be fulfilled in the resurrection. This will be fulfilled when his faith in Jesus is vindicated. This will be fulfilled in the new heavens and the new earth about which the Apostle Peter writes, “But in keeping with his promise we are looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth, where righteousness dwells” (2 Peter 2:13).

The message of the resurrection is what Paul speaks of throughout his missionary journeys. He makes this point in the face of the Greek vagaries of the immortality of the soul, but without a physical resurrection. Such an idea was foolishness to them – not to mention the idea that a death of a man on a cross total foolishness.

But Jesus’ death makes his resurrection more stunning. And his resurrection makes his death more meaningful. Jesus is vindicated by his resurrection. We are confirmed in our salvation by Jesus’ resurrection. It is secured. The victory has been won. We’re just waiting to get back home to celebrate the victory together.

But wait we must. Not all is well here on this earth. Whether it’s air conditioners having to be replaced, or car trouble in rush hour traffic, illness, financial ruin, or job loss, we are constantly reminded that we live in a broken world. This makes hope all the more precious and important. Hope looks beyond today. It waits for God’s deliverance. It trusts in God’s goodness, promises, and grace. Hope, when properly placed, is a marvelous thing!

We’ll learn more about Felix the governor mentioned here in Acts 23. We’ll see that he will keep Paul in prison for two years, frequently calling for him in hopes of being offered a bribe (Acts 24). He is not one I would consider to have a clear conscience. I wonder how he thought about himself, what struggles of conscience he had at this time – or any other time for that matter.

One can have a clear conscience by means of self-deception. We can convince ourselves that we’ve done no wrong – even if we have done many things wrong. Sooner or later, such a conscience will either awaken to our failures and need for forgiveness, or become seared and incapable of feeling remorse. One with a seared conscience has repeatedly ignored or violated his or her moral sense to the point where they no longer feel guilt, shame, or remorse for wrong actions.

One with a guilty conscience feels remorse and guilt over things done or not done. Sadly, however, sometimes we carry a guilty conscience over things about which we need not feel guilty. That is an erring conscience.

There is a two-fold cure to a truly guilty conscience, a falsely-clear conscience, or an erring conscience. His name is Jesus of Nazareth. The Way of Jesus is one of grace and truth. And because there is no one righteous, not even one, we all need the grace of Jesus. We can fool ourselves into believing we’ve done nothing wrong when in fact we have, or that we have sinned when we actually have not. For that reason we must also have the truth of Jesus, the truth of the Word of God to align our ideals, morals, and actions with that which is truly good.

Grace and truth are beautiful together. One without the other can be a sham of justice, or a hopeless search for self-justification. When we face the truth of our brokenness and sin, and turn to the grace of Jesus’ mercy, love, and forgiveness, we can have a truly clear conscience. We will then surely want to live in such a way that we honor God’s grace and truth, and serve our neighbor in love.

I wonder whether Paul brought upon himself some of the trouble he experienced. Was he just a bit too harsh in some of the towns he visited on his journeys? Did he occasionally speak too boldly? Was he inclined to grab the tiger by the tail in some encounters? Did he push the boundaries just a bit too far on occasion? Maybe that’s why he was beaten. Could be he was thrown into prison because of that. There is a common denominator here in all these situations: Paul. Did Paul have an attitude?

When we pray the Lord’s Prayer, we pray, “Forgive us our tresspasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.” Did Paul need to pray that prayer? Is it true that, “we daily sin much and surely deserve nothing but punishment?” Such was the conviction of Martin Luther. Paul would write of himself, “O wretched man that I am…” (Romans 7:24). Yet Paul says that he “always takes pains to have a clear conscience toward God and man.” The only way that is possible is through the forgiveness of Christ and the gracious attitude of men.

I can really identify with Paul’s words there in Romans 7. I am all too aware of my sins and shortcomings. Paul says he is the chief of sinners. I’m right there next to him. But Paul’s entire ministry is testimony to how God can use any of us for his kingdom’s purposes. As one who seeks to honor God in my whole life, I am thankful for his forgiveness and dedicated to honoring him in all I say or do – seeking to have a clear conscience toward God and man.

There’s form and then there’s substance. Think of a beautifully-wrapped gift box that contains garbage. Form: Good. Substance: Stinky! Or the other way: treasures wrapped in dirty clothes buried deep in a banged-up suitcase. Good stuff. Garbage in a garbage bag: No surprise here, but still stinky. It’s best when form and substance align.

The form of speech that Tertullus takes is quite eloquent and gracious. He complements Felix the governor appropriately. And then he tells Felix that when he hears Paul’s testimony, he will surely agree that Paul is a bad guy. Paul will make his defense saying that there is no proof in the charges of Tertullus and the Jews. In effect theirs is all form. No substance.

Paul’s defense, however, will go far beyond form. He is respectful but not as deferential toward Felix as Turtullus was. He simply lays out the case: They cannot prove their accusations. But he does not stop there. There will be substance to his defense. He says, According to the Way, which they call a sect, I worship the God of our fathers, believing everything laid down by the Law and written in the Prophets, ¹⁵ having a hope in God, which these men themselves accept, that there will be a resurrection of both the just and the unjust.”

The substance is God, the Law and the Prophets, hope in God and belief in the resurrection of the just and unjust. He makes the point that he lives an honorable life toward both God and man in anticipation of that resurrection.

I seek to do the same thing. I struggle to discern just how God is going to sort out those who claim faith in Jesus, or “God,” and those whose lives are living testimony to that faith. But for that reason, I’m thankful that’s not my call. And I entrust myself to God’s grace according to the promises of Jesus anchored in his death and resurrection.

A recent encounter with a church’s call committee included a conversation with our District President. I had worked with the committee for some time, and we had great respect for each other. There was not a problem per se, but the committee members were a bit anxious about the slow progress in getting a new pastor. So they called in the head guy. They wanted to hear from him about the process and progress they were experiencing. I’m glad to say that the conversation was very salutary, reassuring, and encouraging to the committee. Part of that encouragement, however, was somewhat backhanded. They learned that these processes do take a long time. They were facing nothing unusual. Fears allayed. But need for patience remained.

There is a different kind of encounter with church higher-ups recorded here. Ananias is the chief priest. That’s a high as you can go in the Jewish line of command during those days. But he, himself, will not bring the charges against Paul. That’s the job of Tertullus, a spokesman for the Jewish leaders. The chief prosecutor so to speak. Think big guns. Think Felix will surely listen to him. Think connections.

It’s a bit like when the seven sons of Sceva tried to cast out demons by saying, “In the name of Jesus, whom Paul preaches, I command you to come out.” Didn’t work for them. They were sent running from the house beaten and bleeding (cf. Acts 19:13-16). Neither will the big guns work for Ananias or the Jewish leaders against Paul.

The charges leveled against Paul were that they found Paul to be a plague, one who stirs up riots among all the Jews throughout the world and is a ringleader of the sect of the Nazarenes. It is true that there had been riots in several places Paul had preached. But these were not stirred up by Paul, but by those who opposed his teachings. And while the message of Jesus is truly counter-cultural, Jesus never sought to stir up a riot. Far from it, he calmed people and preached peace. The one exception was when he overturned the money-changers’ tables in the temple.

You know you’ve gotten to someone when they resort to false-charges, and big guns. Paul has done this – just as Jesus did. But he’s not afraid of big guns. He fears God, loves and trusts in him. Such a faith will stand strong against an arsenal of false threats. We’re seldom called upon to face such threats. But if we ever are, may we make a good defense – just as we will soon hear from Paul. Jesus has promised that the Holy Spirit will give us the words to say in defence of his gospel message – no matter how big the guns may be.

We’ve encountered some winding roads as we’ve traveled through Glacier National Park. One road, however, that is not particularly winding is the Going to the Sun Road. There is only one switchback on the approximately 50 mile long road. It starts at about 3,150 feet in elevation at the West Glacier entrance climbing to a peak elevation of 6,646 feet at Logan’s Pass where it crosses the Continental Divide. The scenery is stunning, with overlooks, mountains, and wildlife along the way.

Paul did not have such a beautiful road to travel. Although the scenery in Israel is historic and striking, there were no paved roads or Interstate Highways in his day. And on this first leg of his journey to Rome, he knows only that he will go to Rome – not how he will get there. In fact, humanly speaking there is little reason to hold to hope that he will get there at all. Herod’s Praetorium could be his final stop. He did not know what awaited him in Caesarea. He had only the promise of Jesus that he would testify of Jesus in Rome. He would have to hold to that promise in the face of plots, protective custody, and soldiers’ escorts as far as Caesarea.

Our roads may be long and winding, but even if they’re paved, we have only the promise of Jesus of our final destination. He has promised eternal life. He has promised salvation. He has promised to wipe away every tear. He has promised to be with us wherever we go. He has promised that he has overcome the world.

It’s good to recall that our paths are known to God – especially when they are long and winding. But it’s vitally important that we remember our ultimate destination whenever our paths are beautifully scenic. For those paths can distract us from our ultimate goal. We can easily forget that the beauty of this world is but a pale reflection of the ultimate glory of the new heavens and the new earth. And however long and winding the road may be, God will certainly bring us safely to our ultimate destination.

We’re enjoying some travel in Glacier National Park and our accommodations are completely adequate, but not modern. To be honest the two we’ve been at are a bit long in the tooth. Tonight’s room is on the ground level and we look out onto the employee entrance to the large. The lodge itself is impressive, and the views are spectacular. So this is not a complaint by any means. But it sets up a comparison between the luxury of our lodging compared with being guarded in Herod’s praetorium.

Here’s an AI description of Herod’s praetorium:

This grand structure included administrative offices, military barracks, and living quarters for the governor and his staff. It was within this fortified complex that Paul was held under guard after being transferred from Jerusalem to protect him from plots against his life. The Praetorium was a symbol of Roman authority in the region and was a secure location for detaining high-profile prisoners like Paul.

I’m thinking it may have been much nicer than the barracks in Jerusalem, and certainly nicer than the jail in Philippi. Maybe not luxurious. But certainly adequate. Maybe no beautiful views. But safe and secure.

I strongly suspect that Paul did not care what kind of accommodations he was allowed. I think of Philippians 4:10-13: “ I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.”

Paul was less concerned about where he was than he was aware that Christ was with him. I may need to remember that once in a while. We’ve seen some spectacular scenery on this trip. We’ll certainly see more. It makes me think of the hymn, How Great Thou Art. 

O Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder
Consider all the works Thy hands have made,
I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,
Thy power throughout the universe displayed.

Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee, “How great Thou art. How great Thou art.”

When through the woods, and forest glades I wander,
And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees;
When I look down, from lofty mountain grandeur
And see the brook, and feel the gentle breeze.

Those digs are available to all who open their eyes to the stars at night or the grandeur of the mountains at daybreak.

We’re enjoying some travel in Glacier National Park and our accommodations are completely adequate, but not modern. To be honest the two we’ve been at are a bit long in the tooth. Tonight’s room is on the ground level and we look out onto the employee entrance to the large. The lodge itself is impressive, and the views are spectacular. So this is not a complaint by any means. But it sets up a comparison between the luxury of our lodging compared with being guarded in Herod’s praetorium.

Here’s an AI description of Herod’s praetorium:

This grand structure included administrative offices, military barracks, and living quarters for the governor and his staff. It was within this fortified complex that Paul was held under guard after being transferred from Jerusalem to protect him from plots against his life. The Praetorium was a symbol of Roman authority in the region and was a secure location for detaining high-profile prisoners like Paul.

I’m thinking it may have been much nicer than the barracks in Jerusalem, and certainly nicer than the jail in Philippi. Maybe not luxurious. But certainly adequate. Maybe no beautiful views. But safe and secure.

I strongly suspect that Paul did not care what kind of accommodations he was allowed. I think of Philippians 4:10-13: “ I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.”

Paul was less concerned about where he was than he was aware that Christ was with him. I may need to remember that once in a while. We’ve seen some spectacular scenery on this trip. We’ll certainly see more. It makes me think of the hymn, How Great Thou Art. 

O Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder
Consider all the works Thy hands have made,
I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,
Thy power throughout the universe displayed.

Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee, “How great Thou art. How great Thou art.”

When through the woods, and forest glades I wander,
And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees;
When I look down, from lofty mountain grandeur
And see the brook, and feel the gentle breeze.

Those digs are available to all who open their eyes to the stars at night or the grandeur of the mountains at daybreak.