Connected and Ready
Commentary
A noted businessman was in high demand on the speakers’ circuit. He had succeeded well in developing a multi-million-dollar enterprise, and now start-ups and entrepreneurial companies sought his advice at their board meetings and planning sessions. While he still guided his growing corporate empire through black bottom-line quarters and overseas expansions, a good portion of his schedule was now devoted to playing the expert as he hobnobbed from one city and market to the next.
Few realized that his insights and public strengths were built substantially on the planning and preparations, behind the scenes, by his long-term administrative assistant. She was skilled and tactful and adaptive and a life-long learner. She had managed to understand his goals and perspectives so well, that she could put him on the right conference seminar speakers’ lists and keep off the ones where he would not shine. She also prepared his travel arrangements and even typed out the rudiments of what he should be presenting at each changing event.
One day he breezed through his office again, making enough noise to appear important, but sticking around only long enough to be on the way to somewhere else where he would be greeted as the honored expert. His administrative assistant handed him travel documents and folders containing all that was necessary for his next venture. He slid these into his satchel quickly, confident that, as always, everything would be in order, and he would have to worry about nothing. Also, as always, he received rather than gave, offering no thanks or appreciation for this woman who essentially made his “good life” possible.
Arriving later at his next board meeting, a high-powered affair where he was surrounded by critically acclaimed industry leaders, he felt the glow of his honored position. They looked to him for direction. They saw him as a key influencer. They believed he had the words of life that would sustain them and their companies for the next fiscal cycle.
Basking in their affirmations, he stepped to the podium, opened the folder prepared by his administrative assistant, and launched into another brilliant introduction, reflecting his own good sense, but made better by her engaging words. The first page ended with a promise that heaven itself would open in the next thirty-five minutes, and divine revelation would spew generously out of his mouth: “We will now consider these matters under seven headings.”
He turned the page. And froze. In horror. There was only one line on the sheet. It exclaimed, in bold type: “YOU’RE ON YOUR OWN NOW!”
Jesus’ disciples must have felt that way on the day described in Acts 1. Devastated by Jesus’ crucifixion, demoralized by Judas’ betrayal, and scandalized by their own cowardness and ineptitude, these men had deflated to ghosts until the outlandish reality of Jesus’ resurrection made them human and powerful again. Now they were unconquerable. Now the revolution was in sight. Now there was no stopping the kingdom train. “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” they asked Jesus (Acts 1:6). They could see it already—the Romans beaten, those wily Idumean Herodians tossed from Masada’s palace into the Dead Sea, foreigners driven from the land, Samaritans put in their place, and Jews taking over their country as the true remnant of Israel. Fires of expectation and vindication danced in their eyes as they huddled around Jesus. “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?”
His response puzzled and terrified them. First, he pricked their inflated pride. “It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority,” he told them (Acts 1:7). They had not yet graduated, nor were they privy to all things important.
Second, Jesus affirmed them. “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you,” he promised them (Acts 1:8), linking their lives supernaturally to his own amazing abilities. Having distributed Jesus’ multiplied bread and fish, having walked on the waters of Galilee with him, having cast out demons and healed the sick, these men were drooling at the thought of having power over death itself!
Third, Jesus changed the rules of the game. “You will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth,” Jesus announced (Acts 1:8). But this was a big turn of strategy! The reason for Canaan to be the homeland of the Israelites was precisely because it was at the center of traffic and commerce in the world. God was Creator of all places and nations. God had chosen Israel to be God’s special ambassadors of this good news, in an age where peoples had generally forgotten their Creator, and played at little allegiances with tiny gods, mirroring their own selfish whims.
Now, suddenly, this spot of real estate, bounded on the east by the Jordan River (along with its Galilee source and Dead Sea drain), on the north by towering Mount Hermon, on the west by the Great Sea (Mediterranean Sea), and on the south by the wilderness wastes, would no longer be the base of operations for Yahweh’s take-back-the-world campaign. Instead of creating a community shaped by the Sinai covenant that would intrigue passers-by into renewed interaction with their Creator, the army of God would now be sent in bands and forays among the nations. The divine mission continued, but centripetal strategy 1 was replaced by centrifugal strategy 2.
Fourth, Jesus left. Just when his disciples thought they could survive any next crisis, the source of their confidence drifted up toward heaven and was gone. “You’re on your own now!” How frightening!
And how empowering! Jesus trusted them! Jesus believed in them! Jesus affirmed their place in the next phase of operations of the divine missional enterprise!
Acts 2:1-21
The momentum of the stories told in the book of Acts is derived from a single critical incident that took place in Jerusalem during the Jewish religious festival known as Pentecost. Jesus’ instruction for his disciples to stay in Jerusalem and wait for a special gift (Acts 1:4), must have seemed vague at the time, but the arrival of the explosive power of the Holy Spirit during the Pentecost feast made sense. This celebration was both a harvest festival and a time for recalling the gift of the original covenant documents to Moses at Mount Sinai. These two themes intersected marvelously with what was taking place. First, there was the dawning of a new age of revelation and divine mission, paralleling the first covenant declaration in the book of Exodus. Second, during the Pentecost harvest festival, the first sheaves of grain were presented at the temple, anticipating that God would then bring in the full harvest. This expression of faith served as a clear analogy to the greater missional harvest of the church, which was begun through a miraculous “first fruits” in Jerusalem that day.
Those in Jerusalem that day would have had their senses charged to understand these things. For instance, a single word, both in the Hebrew and Greek languages, serves to designate “wind,” “breath,” and “spirit.” Thus, the sound of a rushing wind captured the attention of all who were about to breathe in the Spirit of God. Second, this fresh, divine breath was confirmed visually by the single blaze of fire from heaven that became multiple flames burning from each head. Jesus’ cousin John had said that he baptized with water, but that Jesus would baptize with the Holy Spirit and with fire (Luke 1:16). Now, in full view of all, the single divine Spirit baptized everyone at the same time.
One more image had to come to mind among the Jewish faithful, steeped in scriptural history. Although not explicitly stated, there seems to be a conscious undoing of the troubles that started at Babel through the miracle of multiple-language communications at Pentecost. In Genesis 11, the human race was becoming unified against its Creator, and the divine solution to dissipate this rebellion was to multiply the languages spoken, forcing the community to become segmented into competing groups. At Pentecost this action was reversed, and the many people who communicated in their diverse local languages suddenly all heard the same message of grace at once and were knit together into a new common humanity of the church. Babel was undone by Pentecost!
Peter capitalized on these themes when he preached a sermon explaining Joel’s prophecy of the “day of the Lord.” Peter tied together God’s extensive mission, the history of Israel, the coming of Jesus, and the splitting of the day of the Lord so that the blessings of the messianic age could begin before the final divine judgment fell. The pattern for entering the new community of faith was clearly outlined: repent and be baptized. The former indicated a transforming presence of the Holy Spirit in individual hearts, while the latter became the initiation rite by which the ranks of this missional society were identified.
Romans 8:14-17
The story of God’s righteousness as grace and goodness begins with Abraham, according to Paul in his treatise to the Roman Christians. God has always desired an ever-renewing relationship with the people of this world, creatures made in God’s own image. Paul describes God’s heart of love in 3:21-31, using illustrations from the courtroom (we are “justified”—3:24), the marketplace (we receive “redemption”—3:24), and the temple (“a sacrifice of atonement”—3:25). Moreover, while this ongoing expression of God’s gracious goodness finds its initial point of contact through the Jews (Abraham and “the law” and Jesus), it is clearly intended for all of humankind (3:27-31).
This is nothing new, according to Paul. In fact, if we return to the story of Abraham, we find some very interesting notes that we may have glossed over. “Blessedness” was “credited” to Abraham before he had a chance to be “justified by works” (4:1-11) In other words, whenever the “righteousness of God” shows up, it is a good thing, a healing hope, an enriching experience that no one can buy or manipulate. God alone initiates a relationship of favor and grace with us (4:1-23). In fact, according to Paul, this purpose of God is no less spectacular than the divine quest to re-create the world, undoing the effects that the cancer of sin has blighted upon us (Romans 5). It feels like being reborn (5:1-11). It plays out like the world itself is being remade (5:12-21). This is the great righteousness of God at work!
Now Paul gets very practical. Although we might think that we would jump at the opportunity to find such grace and divine favor, Paul reminds us that our inner conflicts tear at us until we are paralyzed with frustration and failure (Romans 6–7). Sometimes we deny these struggles (6:1-14). Sometimes we ignore these tensions (6:15-7:6). Sometimes we grow bitter in the quagmire of it all (7:7-12). And sometimes we even throw up our hands in despair (7:13-24).
Precisely then, says Paul, the power of the righteousness of God as our bodyguard is most clearly revealed. Thankfully, God’s righteousness grabs us and holds us, so that through Jesus and the Holy Spirit we are never separated from divine love (Romans 7:25-8:39). Hope floods through us because we know Jesus and what he has done for us (8:1-11). Hope whispers inside of us as the Holy Spirit reminds us who we truly are and whose we will always be (8:12-27). Hope thunders around us as God’s faithfulness is shouted from the heavens right through the pages of history (8:28-39): “…we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height or depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
John 14:8-17, (25-27)
Once the transition takes place, in John’s Gospel, from the “Book of Signs” (chapters 2-12) to the “Book of Glory” (chapters 13-20), only two major events happen. First, Jesus meets for an extended meal and conversation with his disciples (chapters 13-17). This lengthy monologue seems somewhat meandering and repetitive until it is viewed through the Hebrew communication lens of chiasm. Then the “farewell discourse,” as it is known, takes on new depth, as it weaves back and forth, and climaxes in the middle. This parting exhortation becomes an obviously deeply moving instruction Jesus’ followers to remain connected to him by way of the powerful “paraclete” (a Greek term meaning “counselor” or “advocate”), in the face of the troubling that will come upon them because of his imminent physical departure, and the rising persecutions targeted toward them by the world that remains in darkness. In chiastic summary, the farewell discourse can be portrayed in this manner:
Gathering experience of unity — 13:1–35
Prediction of disciple’s denial — 13:36–38
Jesus’ departure tempered by Father’s power — 14:1–14
Promise of the “paraclete” — 14:15–24
Troubling encounter with the world — 14:25–31
“Abide in Me!” teaching — 15:1–17
Troubling encounter with the world — 15:18–16:4a
Promise of the “paraclete” — 16:4b–15
Jesus’ departure tempered by Father’s power — 16:16–28
Prediction of disciple’s denial — 16:29–33
Departing experience of unity — 17:1–26
Every element of this “farewell discourse” is doubled with a parallel passage except for Jesus’ central teaching that his disciples should “abide in me.” Furthermore, these parallel passages are arranged in reverse order in the second half to their initial expression in the first half. At the heart of it all comes the unparalleled vine and branches teaching, which functions as the chiastic center and ultimate focus of the discourse as a whole. In effect, John shows us how the transforming power of Jesus as the light of the world is to take effect. Jesus comes into this darkened world as a brilliant ray of re-creative light and life. But if he goes about his business all by himself, the light will have limited penetrating value, over against the expansive and pervasive darkness that has consumed this world. So, a multiplication and amplification has to happen. Jesus himself spoke about this at the end of the “Book of Signs.” He said:
“The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. The man who loves his life will lose it, while the man who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me…” (12:26)
In this chiastic “farewell discourse,” Jesus makes clear the meaning of everything. His disciples have been transformed from darkness to light (and thus from death to life) through Jesus’ incorporation of them into fellowship with himself and the Father (chapters 13 and 17). This does not free them immediately from struggles, as seen in Judas’ betrayal and the coming denial of them all. But the connection between the Father and the disciples is secure, because it is initiated by the Father, and will last even when Jesus disappears from them very shortly, because the powerful “paraclete” will arrive to dispense Jesus’ on-going presence with them all, wherever they go and in whatever circumstances they find themselves. Of course, that will only trigger further conflicts and confrontations with “the world.” So (and here’s the central element of the discourse), “Abide in me!” Either you are with the darkness or you are with the light. Either you are dead because of the power of the world, or you are alive in me. And, of course, if you “abide in me,” you will glow with my light, and the multiplication of the seed sown will take place. Eventually, through you, the light that comes into the world through Jesus will bring light to everyone. It is a picture of the mission of God, promised to Abraham, enacted geographically through Israel, but now become a global movement through Jesus’ disciples who “abide” in him through the power of the “paraclete.”
Application
There is an ancient legend first told by Christians living in the catacombs under the streets of Rome. It pictured the day when Jesus went back to glory after finishing all his work on earth. The angel Gabriel met Jesus in heaven and welcomed him home. “Lord,” Gabriel asked, “Who have you left behind to carry on your work?”
Jesus told him about the disciples, the little band of fishermen and farmers and housewives.
“But Lord,” said Gabriel, “what if they fail you? What if they lose heart or drop out? What if things get too rough for them and they let you down?”
“Well,” replied Jesus, “then all I’ve done will come to nothing.”
“But don’t you have a backup plan?” Gabriel asked, nervously. “Isn’t there something else to keep it going, to finish your work?”
“No,” said Jesus, “there’s no backup plan. The church is it. There’s nothing else.”
“Nothing else?” repeated Gabriel, worried. “But what if they fail?”
And the early Christians knew Jesus’ answer. “Gabriel,” Jesus explained patiently, “They won’t fail.”
Alternative Application (Acts 2:1-21)
The unusual expressions of the coming of the Holy Spirit in Acts 2 are extremely significant:
The witness to Jerusalem (2:1–6:7)
The witness to Judea and Samaria (6:8–9:31)
The witness to the Gentiles (9:32–12:24)
The witness to Asia Minor (12:25–16:5)
The witness to Europe (16:6–19:20)
The witness to the ends of the earth by way of Rome (19:21–28:31)
All but the last of these regional (or, in the case of the move to a Gentile audience in 9:32–12:24, ethnic) expansions is brought to a similar conclusion of the type: “And the word of God grew and multiplied…” It appears that Luke perceived of the missional witness of the church in each of these sections as having pervaded those regions sufficiently enough that all persons within them had access to the message about Jesus. In the last section, however, the gospel is again briefly stated to both the Jews (Acts 22) and the Gentiles (Acts 26), but there is no concluding progress report of completion. Some believe this indicates that Luke was planning a third volume, intending to track Paul’s next series of journeys once he was released from Rome after his appeal to Caesar had been adjudicated. A more likely theological hypothesis, however, is that Luke deliberately leaves the story of the expanding witness open-ended. The mission work begun at Pentecost, has reached worldwide levels of impact by the close of Acts. But it has not yet succeeded in reaching “the ends of the earth,” or bringing all the world’s citizens back into relationship with their Creator. So, the testimony put forward in the book of Acts is never complete, but continues on in the life of the church. Viewed in this way, the church is always writing chapter 29 to the book of Acts, so that any attempt at a final “progress report” is only partial and interim.
Few realized that his insights and public strengths were built substantially on the planning and preparations, behind the scenes, by his long-term administrative assistant. She was skilled and tactful and adaptive and a life-long learner. She had managed to understand his goals and perspectives so well, that she could put him on the right conference seminar speakers’ lists and keep off the ones where he would not shine. She also prepared his travel arrangements and even typed out the rudiments of what he should be presenting at each changing event.
One day he breezed through his office again, making enough noise to appear important, but sticking around only long enough to be on the way to somewhere else where he would be greeted as the honored expert. His administrative assistant handed him travel documents and folders containing all that was necessary for his next venture. He slid these into his satchel quickly, confident that, as always, everything would be in order, and he would have to worry about nothing. Also, as always, he received rather than gave, offering no thanks or appreciation for this woman who essentially made his “good life” possible.
Arriving later at his next board meeting, a high-powered affair where he was surrounded by critically acclaimed industry leaders, he felt the glow of his honored position. They looked to him for direction. They saw him as a key influencer. They believed he had the words of life that would sustain them and their companies for the next fiscal cycle.
Basking in their affirmations, he stepped to the podium, opened the folder prepared by his administrative assistant, and launched into another brilliant introduction, reflecting his own good sense, but made better by her engaging words. The first page ended with a promise that heaven itself would open in the next thirty-five minutes, and divine revelation would spew generously out of his mouth: “We will now consider these matters under seven headings.”
He turned the page. And froze. In horror. There was only one line on the sheet. It exclaimed, in bold type: “YOU’RE ON YOUR OWN NOW!”
Jesus’ disciples must have felt that way on the day described in Acts 1. Devastated by Jesus’ crucifixion, demoralized by Judas’ betrayal, and scandalized by their own cowardness and ineptitude, these men had deflated to ghosts until the outlandish reality of Jesus’ resurrection made them human and powerful again. Now they were unconquerable. Now the revolution was in sight. Now there was no stopping the kingdom train. “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” they asked Jesus (Acts 1:6). They could see it already—the Romans beaten, those wily Idumean Herodians tossed from Masada’s palace into the Dead Sea, foreigners driven from the land, Samaritans put in their place, and Jews taking over their country as the true remnant of Israel. Fires of expectation and vindication danced in their eyes as they huddled around Jesus. “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?”
His response puzzled and terrified them. First, he pricked their inflated pride. “It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority,” he told them (Acts 1:7). They had not yet graduated, nor were they privy to all things important.
Second, Jesus affirmed them. “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you,” he promised them (Acts 1:8), linking their lives supernaturally to his own amazing abilities. Having distributed Jesus’ multiplied bread and fish, having walked on the waters of Galilee with him, having cast out demons and healed the sick, these men were drooling at the thought of having power over death itself!
Third, Jesus changed the rules of the game. “You will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth,” Jesus announced (Acts 1:8). But this was a big turn of strategy! The reason for Canaan to be the homeland of the Israelites was precisely because it was at the center of traffic and commerce in the world. God was Creator of all places and nations. God had chosen Israel to be God’s special ambassadors of this good news, in an age where peoples had generally forgotten their Creator, and played at little allegiances with tiny gods, mirroring their own selfish whims.
Now, suddenly, this spot of real estate, bounded on the east by the Jordan River (along with its Galilee source and Dead Sea drain), on the north by towering Mount Hermon, on the west by the Great Sea (Mediterranean Sea), and on the south by the wilderness wastes, would no longer be the base of operations for Yahweh’s take-back-the-world campaign. Instead of creating a community shaped by the Sinai covenant that would intrigue passers-by into renewed interaction with their Creator, the army of God would now be sent in bands and forays among the nations. The divine mission continued, but centripetal strategy 1 was replaced by centrifugal strategy 2.
Fourth, Jesus left. Just when his disciples thought they could survive any next crisis, the source of their confidence drifted up toward heaven and was gone. “You’re on your own now!” How frightening!
And how empowering! Jesus trusted them! Jesus believed in them! Jesus affirmed their place in the next phase of operations of the divine missional enterprise!
Acts 2:1-21
The momentum of the stories told in the book of Acts is derived from a single critical incident that took place in Jerusalem during the Jewish religious festival known as Pentecost. Jesus’ instruction for his disciples to stay in Jerusalem and wait for a special gift (Acts 1:4), must have seemed vague at the time, but the arrival of the explosive power of the Holy Spirit during the Pentecost feast made sense. This celebration was both a harvest festival and a time for recalling the gift of the original covenant documents to Moses at Mount Sinai. These two themes intersected marvelously with what was taking place. First, there was the dawning of a new age of revelation and divine mission, paralleling the first covenant declaration in the book of Exodus. Second, during the Pentecost harvest festival, the first sheaves of grain were presented at the temple, anticipating that God would then bring in the full harvest. This expression of faith served as a clear analogy to the greater missional harvest of the church, which was begun through a miraculous “first fruits” in Jerusalem that day.
Those in Jerusalem that day would have had their senses charged to understand these things. For instance, a single word, both in the Hebrew and Greek languages, serves to designate “wind,” “breath,” and “spirit.” Thus, the sound of a rushing wind captured the attention of all who were about to breathe in the Spirit of God. Second, this fresh, divine breath was confirmed visually by the single blaze of fire from heaven that became multiple flames burning from each head. Jesus’ cousin John had said that he baptized with water, but that Jesus would baptize with the Holy Spirit and with fire (Luke 1:16). Now, in full view of all, the single divine Spirit baptized everyone at the same time.
One more image had to come to mind among the Jewish faithful, steeped in scriptural history. Although not explicitly stated, there seems to be a conscious undoing of the troubles that started at Babel through the miracle of multiple-language communications at Pentecost. In Genesis 11, the human race was becoming unified against its Creator, and the divine solution to dissipate this rebellion was to multiply the languages spoken, forcing the community to become segmented into competing groups. At Pentecost this action was reversed, and the many people who communicated in their diverse local languages suddenly all heard the same message of grace at once and were knit together into a new common humanity of the church. Babel was undone by Pentecost!
Peter capitalized on these themes when he preached a sermon explaining Joel’s prophecy of the “day of the Lord.” Peter tied together God’s extensive mission, the history of Israel, the coming of Jesus, and the splitting of the day of the Lord so that the blessings of the messianic age could begin before the final divine judgment fell. The pattern for entering the new community of faith was clearly outlined: repent and be baptized. The former indicated a transforming presence of the Holy Spirit in individual hearts, while the latter became the initiation rite by which the ranks of this missional society were identified.
Romans 8:14-17
The story of God’s righteousness as grace and goodness begins with Abraham, according to Paul in his treatise to the Roman Christians. God has always desired an ever-renewing relationship with the people of this world, creatures made in God’s own image. Paul describes God’s heart of love in 3:21-31, using illustrations from the courtroom (we are “justified”—3:24), the marketplace (we receive “redemption”—3:24), and the temple (“a sacrifice of atonement”—3:25). Moreover, while this ongoing expression of God’s gracious goodness finds its initial point of contact through the Jews (Abraham and “the law” and Jesus), it is clearly intended for all of humankind (3:27-31).
This is nothing new, according to Paul. In fact, if we return to the story of Abraham, we find some very interesting notes that we may have glossed over. “Blessedness” was “credited” to Abraham before he had a chance to be “justified by works” (4:1-11) In other words, whenever the “righteousness of God” shows up, it is a good thing, a healing hope, an enriching experience that no one can buy or manipulate. God alone initiates a relationship of favor and grace with us (4:1-23). In fact, according to Paul, this purpose of God is no less spectacular than the divine quest to re-create the world, undoing the effects that the cancer of sin has blighted upon us (Romans 5). It feels like being reborn (5:1-11). It plays out like the world itself is being remade (5:12-21). This is the great righteousness of God at work!
Now Paul gets very practical. Although we might think that we would jump at the opportunity to find such grace and divine favor, Paul reminds us that our inner conflicts tear at us until we are paralyzed with frustration and failure (Romans 6–7). Sometimes we deny these struggles (6:1-14). Sometimes we ignore these tensions (6:15-7:6). Sometimes we grow bitter in the quagmire of it all (7:7-12). And sometimes we even throw up our hands in despair (7:13-24).
Precisely then, says Paul, the power of the righteousness of God as our bodyguard is most clearly revealed. Thankfully, God’s righteousness grabs us and holds us, so that through Jesus and the Holy Spirit we are never separated from divine love (Romans 7:25-8:39). Hope floods through us because we know Jesus and what he has done for us (8:1-11). Hope whispers inside of us as the Holy Spirit reminds us who we truly are and whose we will always be (8:12-27). Hope thunders around us as God’s faithfulness is shouted from the heavens right through the pages of history (8:28-39): “…we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height or depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
John 14:8-17, (25-27)
Once the transition takes place, in John’s Gospel, from the “Book of Signs” (chapters 2-12) to the “Book of Glory” (chapters 13-20), only two major events happen. First, Jesus meets for an extended meal and conversation with his disciples (chapters 13-17). This lengthy monologue seems somewhat meandering and repetitive until it is viewed through the Hebrew communication lens of chiasm. Then the “farewell discourse,” as it is known, takes on new depth, as it weaves back and forth, and climaxes in the middle. This parting exhortation becomes an obviously deeply moving instruction Jesus’ followers to remain connected to him by way of the powerful “paraclete” (a Greek term meaning “counselor” or “advocate”), in the face of the troubling that will come upon them because of his imminent physical departure, and the rising persecutions targeted toward them by the world that remains in darkness. In chiastic summary, the farewell discourse can be portrayed in this manner:
Gathering experience of unity — 13:1–35
Prediction of disciple’s denial — 13:36–38
Jesus’ departure tempered by Father’s power — 14:1–14
Promise of the “paraclete” — 14:15–24
Troubling encounter with the world — 14:25–31
“Abide in Me!” teaching — 15:1–17
Troubling encounter with the world — 15:18–16:4a
Promise of the “paraclete” — 16:4b–15
Jesus’ departure tempered by Father’s power — 16:16–28
Prediction of disciple’s denial — 16:29–33
Departing experience of unity — 17:1–26
Every element of this “farewell discourse” is doubled with a parallel passage except for Jesus’ central teaching that his disciples should “abide in me.” Furthermore, these parallel passages are arranged in reverse order in the second half to their initial expression in the first half. At the heart of it all comes the unparalleled vine and branches teaching, which functions as the chiastic center and ultimate focus of the discourse as a whole. In effect, John shows us how the transforming power of Jesus as the light of the world is to take effect. Jesus comes into this darkened world as a brilliant ray of re-creative light and life. But if he goes about his business all by himself, the light will have limited penetrating value, over against the expansive and pervasive darkness that has consumed this world. So, a multiplication and amplification has to happen. Jesus himself spoke about this at the end of the “Book of Signs.” He said:
“The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. The man who loves his life will lose it, while the man who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me…” (12:26)
In this chiastic “farewell discourse,” Jesus makes clear the meaning of everything. His disciples have been transformed from darkness to light (and thus from death to life) through Jesus’ incorporation of them into fellowship with himself and the Father (chapters 13 and 17). This does not free them immediately from struggles, as seen in Judas’ betrayal and the coming denial of them all. But the connection between the Father and the disciples is secure, because it is initiated by the Father, and will last even when Jesus disappears from them very shortly, because the powerful “paraclete” will arrive to dispense Jesus’ on-going presence with them all, wherever they go and in whatever circumstances they find themselves. Of course, that will only trigger further conflicts and confrontations with “the world.” So (and here’s the central element of the discourse), “Abide in me!” Either you are with the darkness or you are with the light. Either you are dead because of the power of the world, or you are alive in me. And, of course, if you “abide in me,” you will glow with my light, and the multiplication of the seed sown will take place. Eventually, through you, the light that comes into the world through Jesus will bring light to everyone. It is a picture of the mission of God, promised to Abraham, enacted geographically through Israel, but now become a global movement through Jesus’ disciples who “abide” in him through the power of the “paraclete.”
Application
There is an ancient legend first told by Christians living in the catacombs under the streets of Rome. It pictured the day when Jesus went back to glory after finishing all his work on earth. The angel Gabriel met Jesus in heaven and welcomed him home. “Lord,” Gabriel asked, “Who have you left behind to carry on your work?”
Jesus told him about the disciples, the little band of fishermen and farmers and housewives.
“But Lord,” said Gabriel, “what if they fail you? What if they lose heart or drop out? What if things get too rough for them and they let you down?”
“Well,” replied Jesus, “then all I’ve done will come to nothing.”
“But don’t you have a backup plan?” Gabriel asked, nervously. “Isn’t there something else to keep it going, to finish your work?”
“No,” said Jesus, “there’s no backup plan. The church is it. There’s nothing else.”
“Nothing else?” repeated Gabriel, worried. “But what if they fail?”
And the early Christians knew Jesus’ answer. “Gabriel,” Jesus explained patiently, “They won’t fail.”
Alternative Application (Acts 2:1-21)
The unusual expressions of the coming of the Holy Spirit in Acts 2 are extremely significant:
- Sound of wind: a single word, both in the Hebrew (ruach) and Greek (pneuma) languages, serves to designate “wind,” “breath,” and “spirit.” Thus, the sound of a rushing wind captured the attention of all who were about to breathe in the Spirit of God.
- Single blaze of fire becoming multiple flames above heads: Jesus’ cousin John had said that he baptized with water, but that Jesus would baptize with the Holy Spirit and with fire (Luke 1:16). This vision represented the single divine Spirit baptizing all at the same time.
The witness to Jerusalem (2:1–6:7)
The witness to Judea and Samaria (6:8–9:31)
The witness to the Gentiles (9:32–12:24)
The witness to Asia Minor (12:25–16:5)
The witness to Europe (16:6–19:20)
The witness to the ends of the earth by way of Rome (19:21–28:31)
All but the last of these regional (or, in the case of the move to a Gentile audience in 9:32–12:24, ethnic) expansions is brought to a similar conclusion of the type: “And the word of God grew and multiplied…” It appears that Luke perceived of the missional witness of the church in each of these sections as having pervaded those regions sufficiently enough that all persons within them had access to the message about Jesus. In the last section, however, the gospel is again briefly stated to both the Jews (Acts 22) and the Gentiles (Acts 26), but there is no concluding progress report of completion. Some believe this indicates that Luke was planning a third volume, intending to track Paul’s next series of journeys once he was released from Rome after his appeal to Caesar had been adjudicated. A more likely theological hypothesis, however, is that Luke deliberately leaves the story of the expanding witness open-ended. The mission work begun at Pentecost, has reached worldwide levels of impact by the close of Acts. But it has not yet succeeded in reaching “the ends of the earth,” or bringing all the world’s citizens back into relationship with their Creator. So, the testimony put forward in the book of Acts is never complete, but continues on in the life of the church. Viewed in this way, the church is always writing chapter 29 to the book of Acts, so that any attempt at a final “progress report” is only partial and interim.
