Acts 4:1–12

¹And as they were speaking to the people, the priests and the captain of the temple and the Sadducees came upon them, ²greatly annoyed because they were teaching the people and proclaiming in Jesus the resurrection from the dead. ³And they arrested them and put them in custody until the next day, for it was already evening. ⁴But many of those who had heard the word believed, and the number of the men came to about five thousand. ⁵On the next day their rulers and elders and scribes gathered together in Jerusalem, ⁶with Annas the high priest and Caiaphas and John and Alexander, and all who were of the high-priestly family. ⁷And when they had set them in the midst, they inquired, "By what power or by what name did you do this?" ⁸Then Peter, filled with the Holy Spirit, said to them, "Rulers of the people and elders, ⁹if we are being examined today concerning a good deed done to a crippled man, by what means this man has been healed, ¹⁰let it be known to all of you and to all the people of Israel that by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom you crucified, whom God raised from the dead— by him this man is standing before you well. ¹¹This Jesus is the stone that was rejected by you, the builders, which has become the cornerstone. ¹²And there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved." (Acts 4:1 ESV)

Among those with power on the earth there has always been a sort of acid into which any stubborn thorn in the side can quickly and conveniently be dissolved. I'm speaking about death—the power by which Satan holds the whole world captive (Heb 2:14). A tempting option for doing away with an opponent. Today many see death as a way of getting rid of their problems. An unwanted child appears—abortion will take care of that. An elderly parent who has become a burden—just pull the plug. A painful illness—death will end the pain. It has correctly been said that we live in a culture of death.

Biblically, we can't help but think of King Saul, whose absolute power was matched only by his unmitigated jealousy of David, the son of Jesse. David was popular, too popular. Time and time again, Saul tried and failed to apply the age-old political panacea of death to his David problem. But time and time again, David was delivered.

Sadly, King David himself would later effectively wield death for political and personal ends. (The Scriptures are not known for hiding the sins of our biblical heroes.) In what would prove the low point of his life, King David had fathered a child by a married woman who was not his wife. Public scandal was sure to follow when news got out. Public repentance was apparently not on David's agenda. And so it naturally occurred to him that he could fix it all . . . if he would only kill Uriah, whose wife David had effectively stolen. And so David did. It's noteworthy that the man who wrote Psalm 23 is the same man who also, finally, wrote Psalm 51: "Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions" (v 1). He speaks here of Bathsheba and Uriah.

Of course, these were not the first times it had dawned on someone powerful that death could be put to convenient use, nor would it be the last.

Even so, innocent blood has a way of speaking out and even humbling those who spill it. That was true in the case of Uriah and David. It was true of Jesus and his persecutors too.

Our text in Acts opens with the Jewish leaders rushing to the temple courts, greatly annoyed and perplexed to find that death had not solved their Jesus problem. Not long ago, they had all breathed a great sigh of relief as they watched Jesus of Nazareth breathe his last. The competition was disposed. All could go on as before. So they thought. Today, they discover Peter and John have healed a lame man in Jesus' name. Worse, the apostles are publicly proclaiming Jesus with every breath in their lungs—proclaiming him alive and calling for repentance: "God, having raised up his servant, sent him to you first, to bless you by turning every one of you from your wickedness" (Acts 3:26). Thousands heard and believed.

At first, things proceed along the age-old pattern. Arrests are made. A solemn assembly gathers. An implicit threat of death hangs over Peter and John. But things have drastically changed. Peter and John are not afraid. With the resurrection of Christ, death is no longer an issue for them. Death has been swallowed up by life. Death is no longer the end. When asked how the lame man standing before them had been healed, Peter boldly explains: "Let it be known to all of you and to all the people of Israel that by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom you crucified, whom God raised from the dead—by him this man is standing before you well" (v 10).

Not only had death not solved their Jesus problem, but Jesus also had created for them a problem with death. They now had a life problem. The threat of death wasn't working. In Christ, death had backfired and unleashed forgiveness, restoration, and life. Here was blood speaking a better word than the blood of Abel, and here was an empty tomb making itself felt even in high, mighty hearts.

How do you control people who aren't afraid to die? Eventually, the leaders feebly resort to charging Peter and John to be quiet about Jesus. Peter and John frankly refuse: "Whether it is right in the sight of God to listen to you rather than to God, you must judge, for we cannot but speak of what we have seen and heard" (4:19–20).

How do you feel as you consider all of this? Initially, it's natural to feel excited and encouraged. Upon further reflection, perhaps also somewhat ashamed. It's easy to feel ashamed at how sheepish we are when such ground for boldness is ours in Christ. The resurrected Good Shepherd is at my side, and I go through life as nervous as a lone lamb in the woods, worrying away my days. The very vanquisher of death has declared himself through Baptism to be your deliverer, yet the very mention of cancer or stroke can make you tremble.

And then there's the idea of persecution. I don't imagine many of us will ever be dragged before rulers and authorities and threatened with death if we refuse to be quiet about Jesus, but such things do happen today. There continue to be men and women who stand up to worldly power and give witness with their lives to the one who is stronger than death. And here are we, sometimes lowering our voices to a whisper when saying a table prayer in public, timid about letting the waiter hear us speak to Jesus. Perhaps in your own way, you've felt the same. Christ, have mercy on your sheep!

And then we remember: he has; he does. This is also what it means that he is the Good Shepherd—not only that he is infinite in power, unstoppable in death, and able to deliver, but also that this mighty, living Savior, who knew our sin before we were conceived, willingly laid down his life for such timid, sinful sheep as you and I are. "I am the good shepherd," we heard him say today. "The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep" (Jn 10:11).

Do we appreciate how profound that is? Do we remember who these sheep are of whom Christ speaks? He is talking about David, adulterer and murderer of humble Uriah. He is speaking of Peter, who thrice denied him, swearing, "I do not know the man." He is speaking of John, who wanted a preeminent throne at Christ's right hand until Good Friday, when the thrones turned out to be a cross. Then, in fear, John locked himself away with the others, despite the Lord's word that death could not contain him. Some flock. But this is who Jesus is, the Good Shepherd who loves the sheep, who pursues the sheep, who lays down his life for his sheep—sheep like you and sheep like me.

What sweet Gospel! A shepherd merely infinite in power might strike fear in the now defenseless high and mighty but would not inspire anything like Psalm 23. It is because David had tasted God's infinite mercy and had seen ahead to the one who wields the rod and staff that he found comfort in them and finally walked through the valley of the shadow of death without fear. It is because Peter and John not only saw the resurrected Christ but also had received his restoration and word of peace that they were bold to testify powerfully in his name. And time will only tell how our encounters of the mighty and merciful Good Shepherd will embolden our own lives and witness. But we do know this:

In Christ, Our Good Shepherd, Our Sin Has a Forgiveness Problem and Death has a Life Problem,

and we . . . well, we have a very Good Shepherd. Thanks be to God! Amen.