Acts 5:1-11
Listen to or watch this sermon here.
“Why don’t we see more of what we read about in the book of Acts now? If we read it in there, why don’t we see it here?
That’s a regular and reasonable question in many Christian circles, even a helpful question, keeping us from settling into the religious status quo, hungry for God’s work among us today. On the other hand, as evidenced by the passage we just heard, we might not readily welcome everything find in Acts, so it’s easy to become inadvertently selective or idealistic while reading. Reading a book like Acts closely, then, closes the gap between the kingdom of our imagination and the real thing, steering us away from oversimplifications or distortions which can lead to disappointment. It’s much the same with Jesus. Reading the Gospels closely, rather than selectively, closes the gap on the Jesus of our societal or personal imaginings and the person we meet in scripture. And when those gaps begin to close, we discover a significant gift. We learn that trusting the real Jesus is something we do in our messy, often troubling world, not an idealized one, as well as something we do through our own messy, sometimes troubled lives. So we don’t get rosy in Acts, we get real.
Of course the book of Acts is inspiring: signs and wonders, salvation and healing, Jesus’ presence and power clearly at work. But the author, Luke, doesn’t only rattle off the highlights, he includes some bumps in the road too. Exciting as Acts can be, we don’t meet a bunch of polished people, with sparkling teeth and immaculate hair. Just because first believers had the Holy Spirit and a holy purpose didn’t mean they lacked heavy problems. The believers argue, stress, struggle, and even fail. Yet the book carries a consistent refrain: God’s kingdom is arriving all the same, through the presence and power of his Holy Spirit in his people, all in the name of Jesus. In Acts even when things go wrong, sometimes especially when things go wrong, God doesn’t abandon the project, but at every turn his kingdom grows, often in odd and shocking ways. This is part of what we’re hearing in the passage today – a harrowing scene of human failure, tragic consequence and a growing reverence, as the God remains determined to bring about renewal in his world, messy and troubled as it is.
Acts 4
Let’s begin where we left off. Recently we’ve read about Peter and John under arrest before the high council, and the believing community’s response by trusting the Lord over against the opposition they faced. Last week we turned a page to see an inspiring vignette of how the first believers cared for one another, God’s love among them translating to practical need meeting. “All the believers were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of their possessions was their own, but they shared everything they had.” (Acts 4:32) In short, we heard that love had become a verb, the resurrection of Jesus not only being shared as a spoken message, but lived deeply, fleshed out among the believers. At the end of the passage, we were introduced to an example of that resurrection life in action, Barnabas, who would become a leading figure within the movement as we read on in Acts. In Barnabas we see plenty of Jesus’ character and kingdom at work: generosity, humility, encouragement.
Acts 5: 1-11 (stepping back)
Today that scene expands to include an episode as dark as the prior episode is bright. The report of the believers sharing together, including the introduction of Barnabas, is immediately contrasted with a harrowing scene of consequence and warning – the story of Ananias and Sapphira. But remember, Acts isn’t rosy, it’s real. The author wants these scenes taken together within the context of the wider narrative, not only highlighting some of the history of the early Jerusalem church, but to make a crucial point. Keeping this is mind helps us avoid a couple of traps while reading. First, we avoid isolating stories from their context, which helps to make much more sense of them. Second, we avoid reducing these scenes to mere morality tales or examples we should or shouldn’t follow.
Let’s follow that thread of context for a moment. Stepping back even a little, we notice that the previous section in Acts highlights the opposition the believers faced from the outside, the high council, which Jesus had told them to expect. But notice it’s also not long before we see opposition from within the believing community itself. Occasionally Christians get very concerned about what kind of opposition we might face externally, the evil lurking behind the actions of institutional opposition. But a scene like today’s reminds us that evil can also be lurking behind the actions of believers themselves. These are Peter’s words in the scene itself, “how it is that Satan has so filled your heart?” (Acts 5:3). Those aren’t words for folks outside of the believing community, but for a people within it. What we’re learning is that siding with Jesus, sitting under his authority and devotion, isn’t like applying for a Costco membership. We don’t belong to a club but are submitting our lives.
Here’s where we begin to pick up on some themes from the precious section, and in fact the whole of Acts itself. When Peter and John were dragged before the high council, the back and forth was about authority and devotion. When Peter and John are told to shut up about Jesus, they double down and side with God, no matter the pressure. They’re more concerned about God’s authority and their devotion to him, than they are with the authority or threats from the Jerusalem elite. But the question of God’s authority and devotion is not a singular moment in Acts. It’s constant theme, where folks will either become devoted to Jesus based on the authority he carries or remain subject to other authorities, and we see this at every turn. For example, Luke regularly shows how people’s relationship with material wealth collides with their devotion to Jesus. Barnabas’ introduction follows that pattern. He has one God and it’s not money, it’s the Lord Jesus, and how Barnabas relates to the material betrays the state of his heart. Then comes the story of Ananias and Sapphira, an opposite example. It’s a dramatic moment in Acts, sometimes oversimplified or even misunderstood. Let’s take a look.
Acts 5: 1-11 (poor or shallow readings)
Let’s start by sorting out what this scene is not about. A poor reading is that Ananias and Sapphira weren’t as generous as others like Barnabas. Everyone was giving, this couple didn’t give enough, so they’re punished. That’s not the case. As we heard earlier, the sharing among the believers is entirely voluntary. We have no mention of rules or pressure about giving, simply that folks shared what they had as they liked. The couple’s trouble, then, wasn’t what they gave or didn’t give, but that they decidedly and publicly lied about what they had shared. We can only presume to know their why because we aren’t told, but given the believing community had grown in reputation and in number in the city (well over 5,000 people at this point), it’s possible the couple’s motivation was rooted in esteem-seeking. In trying to look more generous than they were, the couple may have hoped their status within the community would rise. And, as is often the case, a focus on money and status is often tied up with a hunger for power. Whatever this couple’s motivations are, the consequences are swift.
We’ve already dismissed one poor reading, that the couple meets their fate because they weren’t generous enough. And it’s here we could be tempted to oversimplify this scene to a morality tale about integrity. God really cares about integrity, especially when it comes money, so, if you claim to be a believer, don’t lie about money. Under this reading we could no doubt gather up plenty of insights about the importance of integrity within the church, most obviously when it comes to finances and giving. And that could well be helpful for all kinds of practical and loving reasons. But is this scene only a moral warning for the first believers? Why does Luke place it here? And what about integrity is so important anyway? Are we Christians just meant to be integral for integrity’s sake? Is being Christian simply about being as ethical as possible? And, pressing that question further, how do we define integrity in the first place? What are the grounds for our integrity? Those questions take us closer to the point.
Acts 5: 1-11 (authority and devotion)
As we’re seeing, the whole sequence touches on the themes of authority and devotion. Which is why the stakes are high and dramatic. Will the first believing community remain devoted to Jesus when the pressure from the high council mounts, when tested from the outside? Will the first believing community remain devoted to Jesus when tested from in the inside? Apparently, whether it’s Peter and John’s boldness before the high council, or it’s Ananias and Saphira’s deceit, the devotion of this first believing community is somewhat at stake in these early days and the foundations are being laid. Fear of man, love of status, attachment to money. All of it must take a back seat to Jesus and his authority. Why? As Peter said before the high council, “Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved.” (Acts 4:12). The coupled scenes of Barnabas, and then of Ananias and Sapphira, highlights the importance of believers sharing together, certainly. They emphasize the importance of integrity and character also. But the roots of this scene are in the question of authority and devotion.
There are only ever two sides in the gospels and in Acts. There is devotion to the Lord Jesus and his authority, or the other side. Time and again we hear that when folks put their hearts on the side opposite to Jesus, they will ultimately find not life, but death. Constantly in Acts we meet individuals, groups, even cities, who are faced with this question. And in this case, we meet a couple whose hearts are not only divided but are filled with decided deception. Not only are they not devoted to Jesus, but they are posturing as if they are, intentionally playing both sides, and their actions, if left unchecked will be corrosive. As Peter puts it, they have “not just lied to human beings, but to God.” As the believing community is forming, it seems God takes this very seriously. Notice how swift the consequences arrive within the believing community. The high council has not yet faced the consequences of their evil dealings, whereas this couple, professing believers, meet judgement swiftly. That’s a sobering thought for anyone posing as a believer while also devoting themselves to things like money, status or power. It’s a singular moment in Acts, not repeated, but demonstrates a very clear line from authority, to devotion, to integrity.
One of the conclusions Luke seems to draw is that devoting ourselves, subjecting ourselves to other authorities, false gods, will only lead to death. Not only a marker of God’s judgement, is the story of Ananias and Sapphira a kind fast forwarding of their decision making toward the inevitable ends, and a sign to the whole community watching? As we read in John’s gospel from Jesus himself, “the enemy comes to kill, steal and destroy. But I have come that you might life and have it in abundance.” (John 10:10). It’s also natural to draw parallels to other scenes in the scriptures, like Achan in the book of Joshua, or Adam and Eve in Genesis.
Insights for today
So what do we do with a passage like this today? First, there’s an obvious warning here about the place of material wealth and probably status seeking in our hearts. In Jesus’ own words, “you cannot worship both God and mammon”. In both his gospel and in Acts, Luke constantly shows how easily people are willing to serve seeking the esteem of others or the love of money. Scripture is concerned with humanity’s relationship to these things for one simple reason: wealth or human opinion cannot save us nor make us flourish. Humans are creatures designed to flourish under the authority, love and care of their Creator. If we put money or status in that place, we don’t flourish, we wither. We don’t find life but the opposite.
So one of the urgings from this passage is that we’re obsessed with stuff, or the fear of not having enough stuff, if we’re controlled by that, we need to turn our hearts over to the Lord, to find freedom and life. Or, if we’re obsessed with how others think of us, controlled by the opinions of others which dominates our decisions or relationships, we need to give our hearts to the Lord. Trusting Jesus means becoming pre-occupied with him, not stuff, focusing on who we are in his eyes, over against how we are viewed by others. There’s immense freedom in that.
We can add to this that though this scene has roots in the themes of authority and devotion, there is a pointed concern with integrity here, and it’s hard to ignore that. Integrity, especially in the case of money among believers is crucial. Not simply because believers should be ethical for ethics sake, but because integrity always betrays devotion.
A lack of integrity among believers betrays a wrong-headed and wrong hearted relationship to God. As Peter points out in this passage, a lack of integrity betrays a low view of God. God sees everything, so when we act without integrity, we don’t tell the truth or hide the whole truth, we aren’t fooling God, only ourselves. Integrity is an indicator of our beliefs about God’s authority. Matters of integrity, then, often becomes the most important especially when no one is looking or no one will notice, but when only God is watching. Because we don’t answer to each other, ultimately, we answer to the Lord. Integrity is rooted in our understanding of the Lord’s authority, and our devotion to him. That’s why integrity is so important for those in Christian leadership. When you see a Christian leader full of integrity, you’ll most often find a heart submitted to God’s authority, increasingly devoted to Jesus. When a Christian leader is lacking integrity, it may be time to ask some questions about God’s authority and our devotion.
Encouragement
Finally, let me end with some encouragement because it’s a heavy passage. Just as with the first believers, this is a jarring moment in Acts. Reading it reminds me driving, maybe when I’m not quite paying as much attention as I should, and then suddenly the brake lights of the car in front go red hot and I have to slam on my breaks. Do you know that feeling? It sets the heart racing, but it reminds me that my attention to and respect of the responsibility of driving is serious stuff. Our lives before the Lord together is not a game, and when Acts was first circulated among the first Christian communities, this passage no doubt stood as a sort of brake-light warning that their devotion to Jesus was in fact life and death stuff. That said, we don’t see this scene repeated in Acts. Not every page holds a glaring brake-light moment. We see plenty of repeated patterns in Acts, plenty of mercy, grace, patience, both from the Lord, and then shared between believers themselves.
So though a scene like this is startling, it’s not meant to cast a constant anxiety inducing shadow. In fact it can serve to draw us increasingly into the light. Just as in Acts 4 in the case of the high council, now in Acts 5 in case of Ananias and Saphira, we’re meeting people decidedly setting themselves up against the Lord. But, as we’re open and growing in devotion to the Lord, we needed worry. We can hear the warning in the tragic shadow of Ananias and Sapphira, and also remain inspired by the light glimpsed in first believers too, including Barnabas. And we can follow the trail of that light directly to the feet of Jesus. Life devoted to Jesus, sitting under his authority, isn’t an endless effort to rid ourselves of the shadow through nail biting and hang-ringing. Life devoted to Jesus is about letting him flood us with light. Our attention, then, is not on making sure we don’t worship the wrong gods, but letting our devotion Jesus grow.
So the encouragement is to let your devotion to Jesus grow and just watch. From the depth of that devotion, from the roots of that relationship, we grow into people of humility, integrity and generosity. Not because of our best efforts, but because of our proximity to and priority on Jesus, and the power of his Spirit. Throw open the door to your heart, let him flood it, and the rest will follow.
Luke Knight 