Wednesday, January 23, 2019

The Good Guys

Acts 8:9-25
Baptism of the Lord 

What do you think of when I say the name, “Benedict Arnold”?  Boo, hiss, right?  In American culture, Benedict Arnold is a name that’s synonymous with betrayal and treason.  If someone were to call a Benedict Arnold, if those weren’t fighting words, you probably would have something you’d need to apologize for.  

But here’s the thing: had his plan gone the way he wanted, it might have been a different story.  Granted, the way his story is told today, he was generally disliked by almost everyone; but who knows, maybe he’s just remembered that way because things didn’t go as he planned.  Maybe if they did, we’d be remembering him as a hero today: maybe being called a Benedict Arnold would have meant you were a person of principle who stood up for what you believed in; who knows?  

Here’s another name to think about: Rosa Parks.  A woman who we remember for standing up for her beliefs by literally not standing up.  A woman whose name we remember for fighting against laws that most Americans today would consider unjust, unnecessary, and degrading to the human condition.  But let’s not forget: she was breaking the law at the time; she became a criminal to make her point.  Are we supposed to admire criminals?  

The books we read and the movies we watch often make it so simple to know which are the good guys and which are the bad guys.  (And by the way, I’ll be using the word “guys” in a gender-neutral way; women are “guys” too.)  But it’s not just fiction: check out a couple of news stations (which I don’t recommend) and the good guys on one channel are the bad guys on the other; and vice-versa.  Sometimes we forget that real life is never so simple.  The truth is, both news stations are right and wrong at the same time.  The truth is, in real life, we can each be both the good guys and the bad guys.  The truth also is: in the Kingdom of God, we do have a choice; and by the power of the Holy Spirit at work in us, we can be the good guys.  

If you weren’t here last Sunday—and let’s face it, if you weren’t here last Sunday, you’re probably not here this Sunday—last Sunday was Epiphany: the day we remember the young Jesus being visited by “wise men from the East,” or Magi.  And what I shared last week was that, the thing I love the most about that story is how God uses the least-likely people.  The religious scholars in Jerusalem don’t know the Messiah has been born; the king doesn’t know; the priests, the Pharisees, the Sadducees, none of them know; but the mumbo-jumbo astrologers, they know.  I like to use the word Matthew uses because it brings home the point: “Magoi” or Magi.  You know, the root of the word “magic.”  You know, one of the things that Moses strongly condemned; yet they seem to be the unlikely heroes who are paying attention to what God is doing.  God even sends them a message in a dream.  It’s almost as if God may not be as black-and-white as we’ve led ourselves to believe.  

Continuing in this troubling theme, we meet another magician today; and like the magicians we met last week, it’s hard to tell if he’s a good guy or not.  By the way, Acts chapter eight is all about a guy named Philip.  Philip is a good guy in every sense.  I’ve preached about Philip before because Philip is a person we should aspire to be like.  You may recall that there was also a disciple named Philip; this is probably not the same Philip.  This is probably the Philip who is named in chapter six as one of the first Deacons.  In other words, this Philip was one of the first people chosen in the early church to get some real work done.  And Philip was the right guy for the job: he listens for whispering voice of the Spirit and moves when he’s called; even when he’s called to bring the Good news to the Samaritans (of all people).  Rules and propriety don’t seem to be Philip’s thing; obedience to God seems to be Philip’s thing.  And as much as I love Philip and struggle to follow his example, there is this other story within Philip’s story that has me a bit more intrigued today.  

Is Simon ever really a good guy in this story?  It’s hard to tell.  He seems to go back and forth.  He is described by Luke as someone who practices magic, and I’m not sure what that means; only, I know it can’t be good.  If you go to a magic show, almost everyone knows it isn’t really magic.  Most entertainers in this line of work have the integrity to call themselves “illusionists.”  Simon calls himself a magician.  He is, apparently, so good at it that it impresses the locals.  They call him great.  More importantly, he lets them call him great.  They ascribe his magic to a gift from God, and he lets them.  They listen to him because of the amazing things he does, so he tells them things they’ll want to hear.  

In short, I don’t trust him.  He looks like a con man to me.  He doesn’t seem like a good guy.  He seems to be manipulating the superstitious and the feeble-minded to make himself feel important, even though he knows it’s just an act.  People fall for it and he doesn’t do anything to show the honest truth that he’s just a guy.  

But then comes Philip: Philip brings the Truth about Jesus and the Samaritans in masses believe.  And not only that, so does Simon!  Simon, a liar, finds Truth!  Simon believes.  Simon gets baptized.  Simon, who has amazed others with his illusions, sees the power of God at work in the name of Jesus.  Again, it’s hard to trust him, but I’m certainly not going to fault in someone who finds Jesus.  

The disciples in Jerusalem hear about the ruckus Philip is causing in Samaria and send James and Peter to check things out.  They come to Samaria and bring a baptism that the Samaritans don’t yet have: the baptism of the Spirit.  Peter and John pray and the Spirit is poured out.  Simon sees it, and has an odd response: instead of rejoicing in the power of God, he want’s a cut.  He tries to somehow buy it from Peter and Peter tells him is money can die with him.  Simon is back to being a bad guy, if only for a moment.  The repentance that comes next means a lot to me.  I know about that kind of repentance in ways I don’t really want to talk about.  Simon seems to see, perhaps finally, that his ways and God’s ways are not the same way.  He calls on a mercy that I’m not sure he yet knows is abundant and free.  “Pray for me,” he says; and that’s all we know; but that’s not all we know.  We know the God of mercy that will meet him in that prayer.  We know the God who sees past his misdirected self-interest and loves the wounded guy who needs love and forgiveness like the rest of us.  Our journeys may have been different, but we know that journey.  

I have a four-year-old that I meet with rather regularly; get yourself a four-year-old, I highly recommend it.  A four-year-old lives in a twilight land of reality, fantasy, and Spirit-led wisdom that the rest of us can only look back and envy.  He has a couple of friends around that age who also dwell in the same realm.  In that realm, they are superheroes.  They are, by their own admission, Good Guys.  They save the day, every day.  The other day, my son asked me, “Daddy, we’re good guys, right?” 

My answer was pure instinct: “Of course we are!” I want to be a good guy; I am intentional about it.  I have rules and practices that help me maintain it.  

He then changed it up on me: “Can good guys ever be bad guys?”  

“Well, that’s some existential stuff there, dude.  I’m going to need to think about that a little.  From my own personal experience, as a guy who tries to be good, I’m afraid I know first hand that I have not always been a good guy.  In spite of my desires, in spite of my efforts, I have been a bad guy at times.  But then again, I have also known some bad guys who sometimes do good things.”  

As I was trying to work all this out with him, he asked the obvious question: “Daddy, how do you know if you’re a good guy?”  

First of all, who are you?  We had to work on that one for a while.  I’m kind of proud of the answer we came to, but it did take some time.  What we finally came to was this: good guys look out for the interests of others; bad guys only look out for themselves.  Bad guys, in other words, can do good things for others on accident, but good guys do good for others on purpose.  

In our lesson today, Simon is clearly not a good guy.  It seems he’s on a journey to become one, but at this point, it isn’t on purpose.  Simon, as it turns out, is not a role model for us; Simon hasn’t learned to be a good guy on purpose yet.  Which is okay: Simon’s goodness starts where all goodness starts.  Simon’s goodness is the happy result of grace.  Simon is what we all look like when we are faced with a God who is only good; a Savior who only looks out for our interests first; a Spirit that moves into our hearts and shows us what it means to be that kind of good.  

Yes, we can be and we are called to be the Good Guys, but only because God was good to us first.  Recognizing the grace of God, at work in us by the power of the Spirit, let us follow in our Savior’s lead as we care for those around us in this world.

No comments:

Post a Comment