“After recounting the proofs of Pentecost, Acts focuses on the peoples of Pentecost: Jewish people from many nations serve as the first representatives of the gospel crossing all cultural barriers (2:5-11).  Some have compared the list of hearers here with the table of nations in Genesis 10, updated into the language of Luke’s day.  If so, this passage may reverse the judgment on the Tower of Babel in Genesis 11: as God once scattered the nations by dividing their languages, he now empowers his church to transcend those divisions.  One of the activities of the Spirit in the rest of Acts is guiding the church to cross cultural barriers beyond its comfort zones (8:27-29; 10:17-20; 11:12; 13:2, 4).  An expositor could easily apply this example to racial reconciliation, cultural sensitivity, crosscultural ministry, global mission, and to church unity today (Rom 15:16; 1 Cor 12:13; Eph 2:18-22).”

My family is interracial (I’m the only white member; my wife and kids are black), so you can tell where I would take this if I were preaching this weekend. (At craigkeener.org, I usually focus on Bible study resources, but I responded with my personal convictions on my personal Facebook page shortly after the murder of our Christian brother George Floyd, because the issue just comes too close to home.)

But I think I can rightly hope that I am not alone on this. Given what’s happening in the U.S. right now (I write this on May 30, 2020), racial reconciliation is a burning topic. Nor is the issue a new one (I mentioned my earlier article to highlight this point). Minorities within a culture know the perspectives of the dominant culture, because such perspectives pervade the culture; the dominant culture, however, is usually far less acquainted with the experiences of minority cultures, because they can live life without having to recognize these experiences.

But as Christians, we belong to one body. It is incumbent on us—and especially for members of the dominant culture—to listen to and learn from the experiences of our brothers and sisters, to be “swift to hear, slow to speak” (James 1:19). Some may want to ignore the pain of our brothers and sisters, using as an excuse hooligans who exploit protests as an opportunity to loot. But what hurts Christ’s body pains Christ the head, and those whose first loyalty is Jesus, who care about his heart, must care for one another, and stand for justice for one another.

I also wrote some of the material on Pentecost for the forthcoming lectionary commentary from Westminster John Knox, where I elaborated more extensively on the implications of the transformation of Babel in Acts 2. There I concluded: “The Spirit in Acts thrusts us across human barriers to honor our Lord among all peoples. The Spirit also empowers believers together, regardless of ethnicity, class, gender, as partners in this mission, equally dependent on God’s enablement. Perhaps it is time, like the first disciples, to pray for the enablement of God’s transforming Spirit.”

For fuller detail on Acts 2, see Craig S. Keener, Acts: An Exegetical Commentary (4 vols.; Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2012-15), 1:780-1038; or, more concisely, Craig S. Keener, Acts (Cambridge NT Commentary; Cambridge University Press, 2020), 121-78.

But this need not be a characteristic limited to African life, as we shall see with respect to Eph 5:18-20.

In my work on Acts, I initially treated Eph 5:18 as a different expression of being filled with the Spirit than what we find in Acts. Luke’s emphasis about the Spirit in Acts is empowerment for mission (Acts 1:8), with filling by the Spirit usually expressed in Luke’s work by Spirit-inspired (prophetic-like) speech for God (2:17-18; cf. 4:8, 31; 13:9; 19:6; 28:25; Luke 1:15-17, 41-42, 67). In keeping with Acts’ emphasis on mission to the nations (Acts 1:8), this inspired speech is often expressed by worshiping God in other people’s languages (2:4; 10:46; 19:6).

I argued that Paul aproaches tongues (in 1 Corinthians) and being filled with the Spirit (in Ephesians) from a different, if complementary, perspective. In 1 Cor 14, Paul focuses on the role of tongues in private prayer, also viewing it in the context of gifts from the Spirit generally (1 Cor 12—14). Although Paul prays in tongues privately more than do all the Corinthians (14:18), Paul emphasizes that in corporate worship tongues should be interpreted so as to benefit all the hearers. He is correcting abuses in Corinth, but the believers there presumably learned the practice through him, perhaps some of them even in the sort of collective outpourings of the Spirit like those sometimes narrated in Acts. But the way Paul articulates his focus differs from that which Luke associates with corporate outpourings of the Spirit narrated in Acts (e.g., 4:31; 13:52), which sometimes mention tongues (2:4; 10:46; 19:6).

In Eph 5:18-20, I argued, Paul emphasizes a different expression of being filled with the Spirit, and he is probably urging a regular or continuous experience with God. He is not narrating collective experiences, often (as in Acts 2, 10, 13 and 19; not 4) inauguratory ones, as Luke is doing in Acts. (The Greek term for “filled” also differs from the usual term used by Luke, except in Acts 13:52, but that might be merely stylistic preference.)

In Eph 5:18, we are to be filled and ruled by the Spirit in contrast to being filled and controlled by wine (cf. Acts 2:13-15). A drunk (or otherwise stoned or high) person may utter or sing nonsense, but being filled with the Spirit in the sense of Eph 5:18 leads to better content in one’s speech. The command “be filled with the Spirit” is followed by a string of subordinate participial clauses that express what it looks like to be filled with the Spirit, especially in relation to one another (5:19-21):

• Speaking to one another in psalms and hymns and Spirit-moved songs
• Singing and praising [possibly even, “psalming”] the Lord with [all] your hearts (for the pairing of these same Greek terms for singing and praising, cf. LXX Ps 20:14 [ET 21:13]; 26:6 [27:6]; 32:3 [33:3]; 56:8 [57:7]; 67:5, 33 [68:4, 32]; 103:33 [104:33]; 104:2 [105:2]; 107:2 [108:1]; 143:9 [144:9])
• Always giving thanks for everything to [our] God and Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ
• Submitting to each other because you reverence Christ

Yet Eph 5:18 is not nearly as distant from Acts as I have sometimes thought. Here, too, being filled with the Spirit is expressed in Spirit-inspired speech. Here this Spirit-inspired speech is expressed in worship in 5:19; but the tongues passages in Acts probably also involve worship (note 2:11; 10:46, with kai connecting the tongues and magnifying God more closely than te … kai in 19:6, which probably distinguishes the tongues from other prophetic speech). Paul elsewhere treats tongues in terms of prayer (1 Cor 14:13-15) and blessing and thanking God (14:16-17), so if Acts describes the same experience (albeit from a different angle), tongues there probably involves especially worship as well.

The worship in Eph 5:18 is not surely limited to, yet surely includes, tongues. “Spiritual songs” likely means “songs from the Spirit”; since Paul elsewhere speaks of tongues as a gift of the Spirit (1 Cor 12:10), and speaks of its use in song (14:13-15), this would include singing in tongues. This conclusion might follow all the more if we construed “spiritual” as referring to the human spirit, since Paul elsewhere depicts singing in a tongue and interpreting it as singing with his spirit and with his mind, respectively (14:13-15).

Again, Paul’s understanding of worship in Eph 5:18 is not limited to tongues. Paul speaks of psalms and hymns, which undoubtedly include biblical psalms (as in the synagogue). As for hymns, some scholars identify what they believe are pre-Pauline hymns in Paul’s letters. I am more inclined to see these as exalted prose (grand rhetoric), since they do not fit the structure of Greek hymns, and I am inclined to attribute most of them to Paul. (Greeks used specially exalted language for the divine or sublime; Paul applies such exalted prose especially to Christ.) Nevertheless, Paul seems to take for granted that his audience accepts as common ground what he articulates in these praises of Christ. His affirmations in these passages therefore reflect wider Christian beliefs, and such beliefs were undoubtedly expressed in actual worship.

All of this suggests that a key New Testament expression of being filled with the Spirit, not only in Luke’s writings but also in Paul’s letters, is that even our lips yield to the Spirit’s leading. (The tongue is, after all, the most difficult organ to subdue—cf. Jms 3:2!) Moreover, we can often expect that when we experience the empowerment of the Spirit, this will be expressed in worship to God.

So far I have not commented on the final subordinate clause that flows from being filled with the Spirit (5:18): submitting to one another (5:21). Humbly submitting to and serving one another an overarching Christian principle (cf. Mark 10:43-45; John 13:14-15; Rom 12:10) that Paul applies to various relationships relevant to his audience (Eph 5:22—6:9). But in Acts, also, the Spirit produces loving devotion to and service for one another (Acts 2:44-45; 4:32-35).

People of the Spirit are people who, both when gathered together and as part of our normal lifestyle, joyfully praise God and care for others.

But Christianity in Africa starts even before Christianity in Europe. Showing this requires three points. First, the official was from Africa. Occasionally someone who is exceedingly misinformed will point to sources that refer to a different “Ethiopia”; but while some ancient sources speak of Ethiopians toward the east, the land of the dawn, the land whose queen was titled the Candace was always an African kingdom south of Egypt.

The First Gentile Christian

The other two points invite more detailed comment: was this man a Gentile, and was he a genuine historical figure?

There remains some dispute as to whether this official was a Gentile. This controversy is understandable. The African court official in Acts 8:26-40 was clearly devoted to Israel’s God. Indeed, he had to be to make pilgrimage to Jerusalem; the roundtrip journey from his kingdom would have taken months, and such an extensive leave of absence would have required his queen’s permission.

Nevertheless, while he is more committed to Israel’s God than is Cornelius in the next Gentile conversion narrative (Acts 10:1—11:18), he is not a full proselyte. Luke has already narrated a proselyte even in leadership in Jerusalem’s community of believers (Acts 6:5), so he has little reason to devote such a long section to another one.

Further, while Luke includes the man’s official title once, he underlines his status as a eunuch by repeating that title five times. Male servants of queens were often eunuchs. Although the OT sometimes may use an equivalent label simply for some officials, the Greek term here is clear and Luke’s hearers would assume that the man was a genuine eunuch—a castrated man. The Greek translation of the OT often uses it for clear eunuchs, especially when the person is foreign, and/or working in relation to royal women (as here), and especially in texts closest to Luke’s period (e.g., Sirach; Wisdom of Solomon). Royal eunuchs held high status as servants of the royal house, but ancient Mediterranean society often ridiculed them as merely “half-men” for their involuntary eunuch condition.

Most relevant here was the man’s status vis-à-vis Judaism. A eunuch could not become a proselyte, that is, a full member of Israel (Deut 23:1). That refers only to official status, of course, not to God’s perspective. In the OT, an African “eunuch” becomes one of Jeremiah’s few allies and saves his life (Jer 38:7-13). More importantly, God promised to welcome foreigners and eunuchs (Isa 56:3-5), of which this man becomes the first example. This official is Jewish in faith, but because he cannot officially convert to Judaism, he remains a non-Jew ethnically.

Minimizing this African convert?

Some complain that Luke actually plays down this official’s conversion by contrast with Cornelius, whose conversion story Luke repeats, in part or in full, some three times in Acts. But Cornelius is a step further in the direction of gentiles, and points toward the narrative’s climax in Rome (Acts 28:14-31). Luke’s audience, based in the Roman empire, will naturally have special interest in the good news about Christ reaching Rome. The Cornelius narrative is also important because it signals a shift in the thinking of the Jerusalem church, and was the gentile-conversion account widely known to them. But Luke, who spends time with Philip (21:8), apparently has a less detailed account from Philip himself of a gentile’s conversion before that of Cornelius.

“Ethiopia” was the Greek title for all of Africa south of Egypt, and Greek sources often describe it as the southern “ends of the earth.” The ends of the earth is where the gospel must go (Acts 1:8), so this narrative foreshadows a larger future for the gospel in Africa. The gospel, originating in what the Roman world considered Asia, goes not only west but south. Although this official is a single person, his conversion receives nearly as much space as the preceding Samaritan revival that converted an entire community: it is a major kingdom breakthrough.

A Real Gentile Christian?

The other consideration in establishing that this official is the first gentile Christian is the question that some have raised about whether it is a true story. Most scholars recognize that Luke is writing history, and most scholars who have actually read ancient historiography recognize that historians recounted stories that came to them, rather than inventing stories from whole cloth. Luke clearly believed this story, which presumably goes back to Philip himself.

But a few scholars have argued that this account sounds more like a novel than a true story. They sometimes argue this because they say that novels liked to celebrate what was foreign and “exotic,” and they so designate this narrative. But comparing Luke’s account with actual ancient novels should quickly dispel the idea that Luke writes novelistically here. The location is not in some distant or mythical land, like in some novels’ “exotic” descriptions, but in the Roman province of Syria, on a real road leading toward old Gaza.

Moreover, unlike mythical “Ethiopians” such as Memnon or Andromeda, the Kandake (in most English translations, Candace) figures in actual historical works. In view of her title, the kingdom in view is the actual ancient Nubian kingdom of Meroë, which was rediscovered in 1722 and identified archaeologically in the early twentieth century.

Nonfiction writers on Meroe sometimes speculated about the location. Some speculations, such as cotton trees, were undoubtedly misplaced (since cotton doesn’t grow on trees). Some assumed that the area was mostly desert, or that, like India, it had rains and crocodiles. A first-century expedition in Nero’s time, however, found more foliage around Meroe, and even elephant and rhinoceros tracks.

Naturally novelists (such as Heliodorus, in his later Ethiopica) had a free hand, inventing what suited them along with a small amount of known information.Others simply made up travel stories, which sometimes fooled even some factual writers who assumed their stories were true.

Thus some supposed that Ethiopians mined metal by pulling it up with magnets. The region hosted a lion’s body with a human face (useful for eating people) and horned, winged horses. Pliny the Elder, who thought he was reporting fact, reported flat-faced, noseless people and people whose king was a dog. While writers knew of forests and crocodiles elsewhere in Africa, they also wrote of people with mouths and eyes on their chests and leather-footed crawling people. Supposedly Ethiopians originated astrology and had to flee from India after murdering King Ganges (the river’s son. They could make trees salute.

Writers told unverifiable stories about other distant lands as well. Thus the Hyperboreans in the distant, frigid north lived so long that finally they tired of living and dove into the sea. Some reported that India hosted water monsters and griffins, and ants as large as foxes that mined gold. Happily the ants retreated underground during midday heat, inadvertently enabling the Indians to steal their gold. Others told stories about Amazons, though they do not appear in non-Greek sources and in recent centuries no one had found them.

Luke’s Plausible Narrative

By contrast, Luke’s details are all plausible, and none of them clearly contradict what we know historically. That means that Luke not only does better than novelists; he does better than many historians whose sources were distorted. Luke may not have many details available from Philip, but the details that he has make sense.

Greeks used the title Kandake for many queen-mothers, some of whom ruled Meroë by themselves. One of those in the first century, for example, possibly around this time, was Queen Nawidemak. (Queen Amanitore was also somewhere around this time.)

Presumably the African official was a person of means to be able to make such a long journey (probably multiple months), traveling by boat down the Nile and then presumably by carriage to Jerusalem. The queen presumably worshiped state deities of Meroe (such as Amun), but the polytheistic nation must have had tolerance for other faiths; a Roman temple also existed on the site.

Meroë’s famous wealth is attested archaeologically and is not surprising. Meroë was ideally positioned for trade between societies to the north and those to their south. Northerners procured much ebony and ivory through them; meanwhile, a bust of Caesar has been found as far south as Tanzania. As a court official of the Candace in charge of her treasure, this traveler undoubtedly had access to considerable means. Only the wealthiest had riding carriages as here in 8:28.

Meroe had its own language, but an educated government official dealing with finance probably was fluent in Greek, since this was the main trade language with the north. Despite continuing use of Egyptian, Greek was the main language of Alexandria, as well as Egypt’s government and trade in this period; Greek was used even in capitals of Egyptian agricultural districts. Luke would quote Isaiah in Greek in any case (since he writes in Greek), but probably the official’s Isaiah scroll in this narrative was in Greek. He could have acquired the scroll in Jerusalem or in Alexandria en route to Jerusalem; the common Greek versions of the Old Testament (notably the family of texts we call the Septuagint) were translated in Alexandria and copies were probably more plentiful there. Even in Jerusalem, many tomb inscriptions (especially of the elite) are in Greek. There is little reason to doubt that the Hellenist Philip, whose primary language was Greek, would have trouble communicating with this official.

Asia of course plays a key role in the Bible: by Greek definitions, the holy land was part of Asia, and right on the boundary of Africa. The first followers of Jesus therefore were from Western Asia, from the Middle East, more specifically from Galilee and Judea and then Samaria. But the first non-Jewish follower of Jesus (ethnically speaking) was from Africa. But the message going to the ends of the earth means that it is for all humanity, whatever continent or culture or language. From the beginning, God cared about all peoples.

The problem arose only when that identification blinded many of them to God’s mission elsewhere. Commitments to nation, culture, ethnicity, denomination and the like may be honorable. But if Christ is truly Lord, then unity with the rest of our family in Christ must come first.

When Paul visited Jerusalem for the last time, Judea was in the midst of a nationalistic resurgence. Paul was aware of the dangers from Judean nonbelievers and remained uncertain how even his fellow Jesus-followers there would respond to his gift (Rom 15:31). But live or die, he was so committed to the unity of Christ’s body that he was determined to bring an offering from the gentile churches to help the poor believers in Jerusalem (Acts 21:13; 24:17; Rom 15:25-27).

A comparison with nationalism today may help us be more sensitive to the setting of Judean believers. Analogies are always imperfect, but the comparison serves as an illustration to make their setting more concrete for us. Many events of the 1960s and 1970s began shifting the United States in a direction that appeared inevitably more liberal or progressive (depending on your viewpoint). Nearly all of us now recognize some events as positive, such as the civil rights movement, greater recognition of the unfairness of male infidelity and abuse, and we as Christians also would appreciate heightened sensitivity to needs of genuine refugees. By contrast, the so-called sexual revolution has had largely negative cultural impact, weakening families and correspondingly wreaking unexpected economic costs on society. Obviously the drug culture’s impact has been largely negative, and we as Christians would also complain about the devaluing of life. So my comparison at this point is not passing wholesale judgment on what a culture deems “conservative” or “liberal” but to highlight a point of comparison with first-century Judea.

The “Reagan revolution” of the 1980s shattered the illusion that “liberal”/“progressive” trends were inevitable, again redefining the middle in public discourse. Seeds sown in that era blossomed again under George W. Bush and climaxed so far in the administration of Donald Trump. President Obama’s second term shifted many policies and much rhetoric to the left, inviting from some quarters a reaction to the right; President Trump shifted policies and rhetoric to the right, inviting strong reaction from other quarters. Increasing polarization between the two dominant political parties in the U.S., with primaries often playing to the louder voices on either side of the respective parties, have often led to massive shifts in policy with new administrations. The two-party system often makes policies a package deal.

Popular opinion in Judea experienced some similar pendulum swings. Herod the Great’s internationally powerful kingdom in Judea gave way to a series of Roman governors, until the short rule of Herod Agrippa I (AD 41-44). Agrippa had courted favor among elites in Rome, and as king he courted favor with traditional Judeans. He was wildly popular among Judeans, and his short-lived reign rekindled Judean nationalism, shattering the apparent inevitability of direct Roman rule. After Agrippa’s death (narrated in Acts 12:23), successive Roman governors exploited and misadministered the province, provoking increasing resistance. By the late 50s and early 60s—by the time of Paul’s final visit and his consequent voyage to Rome in Roman custody—tensions were nearing a breaking point. While the Judean elite (or at least its elders) tried to maintain a voice of “moderation,” mediating between the interests of Rome and their people, voices of resistance were only a few years short of open revolt.

Yet Judean believers in Jesus, though suppressed under Agrippa I (see Acts 12), now flourished. Although scholars disagree how much hyperbole may be intended, Luke reports “tens of thousands” (myriadoi) of believers in Judea (21:20). Debates about Jesus’s identity polarized Judeans far less at this point than responses to Roman abuse of power, and Judean believers shared the political concerns of their peers. At this point in Judea’s history, the most prominent gentiles with whom they had to contend had given gentiles quite a bad name, and most Judeans, unlike Jews elsewhere in the Roman world, had little on-the-ground contact with other gentiles. That believers number so many in Acts 21 shows how well they were reaching their culture in relevant ways; they were effective in contextualizing the gospel for their local setting. Most, however, had little exposure to what God was doing in other parts of the world.

These believers were “zealous for the law” (21:20), which Acts probably understands in a mostly honorable way (cf. 23:3; 24:14; 25:8; 28:23; Luke 2:24-27, 39). Paul himself is ready to show his solidarity with his people in this way (Acts 21:23-26). Paul was not against Jewish people honoring the law; he was against imposing it on gentiles as a condition for being right with God or being “first-class” believers (13:38-39; 15:1-2). Leaders in the Jerusalem church understood and agreed (21:25).

Acts is explicit, however, that these leaders understood some nuances that were lost on many of their followers. In antiquity as today, nuance can get lost in sound bites, and popular sentiment sometimes divides in binary ways. Many Judean believers assumed that if Paul was against imposing the law on gentiles, he was against the law (21:21). As James and the elders warn: “You see, brother, how many thousands of Jews have believed, and all of them are zealous for the law. They have been informed that you teach all the Jews who live among the Gentiles to turn away from Moses, telling them not to circumcise their children or live according to our customs” (21:20-21, NIV). Paul agrees with these leaders on a plan to challenge this mistaken stereotype; he bends over backwards to identify with their local interests (21:22-26). His concern, affirmed by the movement’s Jerusalem leaders, is simply that the mission beyond Judea also retains its cultural freedom (21:25). The church’s unity is paramount. Different political perspectives or cultural customs do not entitle us to assume the worst in the other’s motives. Paul was ready to do whatever necessary to try to help hold together the churches of different cultures.

Acts does not tell us how Judean believers as a whole responded, since Paul’s gesture of goodwill and solidarity is met with misunderstanding from non-believing enemies. A riot flares in the temple, and Paul ends up with one final opportunity to preach to his people in Jerusalem. He addresses them in what was now the Judean mother tongue, emphasizing again his solidarity with their zeal for the law and even his past, violent defense of his people’s customs (22:2-5, 12, 14). He goes on to preach Jesus, and no one interrupts him; perhaps partly because of the Jerusalem church’s sensitive witness, belief in Jesus is not a current political dividing point (unlike in 12:1-3).

But Paul is not willing to stop with preaching Jesus. Genuinely responding to Jesus’s Lordship means more than acknowledging him as an option or even the best option. Genuinely submitting to his Lordship brings us into solidarity with his other followers, the rest of Christ’s body. If nationalism trumps spiritual unity, then Christ is not our Lord. Those who truly follow Christ should maintain our witness to their culture, but not at the expense of our unity with brothers and sisters in Christ. Attending an evangelical church on Sunday morning does not, for example, make you a true Christian if you are burning crosses on black people’s lawns at night (or engaging in corrupt business practices, or sleeping with your neighbor’s wife, etc.)

So Paul does not simply invite the crowd to follow Jesus abstractly. Jesus had already warned that gentiles would destroy Jerusalem (Luke 19:43-44; 21:20-24). Jerusalem is already on that course of conflict, and only the true gospel of Christ, which offers love of enemies and reconciliation across cultures, can challenge that course.

So Paul climaxes his testimony in Acts 22:21: “Jesus said to me, “Go! For I’ll send you far away to gentiles!” For Paul, the good news of Christ includes and requires unity with one’s fellow believers of other cultures, a spiritual temple that matters more than the earthly one (Eph 2:18-22; cf. 2:14-15).

For the crowd, however, admitting God’s concern for gentiles was a step too far. Their experience with gentiles was a negative one. “Up to this word they listened to him. Then they raised their voices and said, “Away with such a fellow from the earth! For he should not be allowed to live” (Acts 22:22, ESV). The wise reader of Luke’s work may remember a shout from a previous generation’s Jerusalem crowd: “Away with this fellow! Release Barabbas for us!” (Luke 23:18, NRSV). Jerusalem had just rejected its final opportunity to turn back from the path of judgment—as Jesus had essentially warned (cf. Luke 19:42-44; Acts 22:18).

Paul ends up in Roman custody, a custody later described as being “the prisoner of Christ for the sake of you gentiles” (Eph 3:1). Christians often have our differing political perspectives. Insofar as possible, we must support what we believe is truth and justice. We are not, however, free to disrespect one another or break the body of Christ over our politics, culture, or secondary theological issues. To do so is to deny Christ’s ultimate Lordship. Today there are believers in most cultures in the world, and in the U.S. and many other nations we have Christians from diverse cultural backgrounds. Listening to one another’s issues can help provide nuance beyond the stereotypes.

Years ago, when my African-American pastor was sharing with a mostly white group about ethnic reconciliation, I felt my heart breaking. I felt as if Jesus was saying, “Can’t you see how it hurts me when my body is torn asunder?” I felt the pain of a body being torn apart. If we love Jesus, we must love one another—to do otherwise is to hurt not only one another, but to hurt our Lord himself.

For me, the implications this message has for the church in the U.S. seem obvious. Not least, while “America first” might sometimes or often be good for America, Jesus’s own people in the U.S. must have wider concerns, whether (for example) our brothers and sisters in northern Nigeria facing genocide from Boko Haram, our brothers and sisters in Honduras facing gang violence, or our brothers and sisters in some Asian countries facing potential disfranchisement.

But whether you live in the U.S. or (with many of my readers) in other nations, consider what implications you believe this message might have. What does it mean to love fellow believers more than the interests of our own nation, culture, party, denomination, or the like?

(A few more comments on polarization in another post)

In Acts 2:46, Jerusalem’s Jesus movement, by this point numbering in the thousands (2:41), met together. Here the apostles could pass on their teaching to large numbers of people at once (2:42). This arrangement was not possible for churches in other Mediterranean cities in which churches were later planted. Temple grounds were public spaces that could accommodate crowds listening to sages, but the other temple grounds in the Roman empire were for pagan deities. Only Jerusalem’s temple was a suitable mass-meeting place for Christians. The next largest locations would often be villas, but these were often quite a long walk from where many other Christians lived.

Megachurch, however, is not the normal state of the church through history. One might compare dog breeding. Breeding has produced many kinds of dogs. If those dogs were on their own in the wild, however, their cross-breeding could eventually produce more generic dogs, much like their pre-bred forebears (albeit perhaps with some improvements from the stronger and more survivable varieties). When persecution comes, homes (or even caves or forests) become more natural and often safer meeting places. When transportation becomes difficult (as in the case of fuel shortages), neighborhood churches become much more serviceable.

That we see something of both models in Acts suggests that what matters is not a prefabricated format but what works for the kingdom. Still, Acts itself shows us that even in Jerusalem, where the church could meet in the public temple, the church also met in homes (Acts 2:46). They broke bread together (2:42), something more suitable in a household setting; probably the twelve apostles also made rounds in many of these homes.

That all the churches in the New Testament ultimately met in homes, wherever else they may have gathered when that was also possible, is important because it reminds us about the church’s DNA. We are family, and therefore a family setting is helpful. Still more important, we are one body with interdependent gifts (Rom 12:4-8; 1 Cor 12:4-26), and we need a setting sufficiently intimate for us to contribute our gifts to one another. By itself, watching a sermon or even a worship team is not church (even though we do need people to preach and lead worship). We function as church when we are in relationship with one another. If we designed our architecture to that end, we would be facing one another rather than facing a stage.

Again, this is not to deny the value of what megachurches can provide in religious free and economically complex societies. Pooling resources in ways that smaller gatherings cannot, megachurches can provide programs for various age groups and other target groups. These could also be provided by alliances of smaller local churches (at least in urban areas), though coordination can be more complicated, and denominational differences would have to be addressed. But without small groups, megachurches do not automatically provide relationships. For those of us who are introverts, that might be an appeal, but we still need others. Whatever the church setting, we need to be in relationships with other believers, need to be able to contribute gifts that God has given us, need to be able to receive spiritual gifts from others (which cannot all be dependent on the pastor-teacher or another single gift).

Paul’s letters to entire churches and groups of churches in cities and regions, and particularly his teaching on the church as Christ’s body, means that we need to be the church together, whatever format that looks like. Even if you get some good teaching on YouTube or other “distance learning,” you still need time together with other believers, talking about and worshiping the Lord.

Those who emphasize meeting together often cite Hebrews 10:25: “not forsaking our own assembling together” (NASB), “not giving up meeting together” (NIV). But keep in mind that the verse continues, “encouraging one another” (NASB; NIV). The writer emphasizes that this is all the more the case in difficult times and as history moves toward its future climax. Church is not only a matter of assembling, but also of interaction with at least some fellow believers, whom we can strengthen and who can strengthen us.

Whether due to fuel shortages, climate changes, legislation that taxes church property, or outright persecution, we cannot count on megachurches being the church’s permanent format. The house churches Paul started in gentile cities around the Roman world undoubtedly seemed less impressive than the Jerusalem megachurch, which had grown particularly massive by the late 50s or early 60s of the first century, some thirty years after Jesus’s resurrection (Acts 21:20 might be hyperbole, but literally the Greek text speaks of tens of thousands). But God knew the future. Jerusalem would soon lay in shambles, and the future lay more with the dispersed churches positioned to reach their localities around the empire.

If many have the current blessing of large churches today, we need to think wisely in terms of the long-range future. What matters most in the long run is not the number of people who attend, but how many people we genuinely reach for Christ, and how deeply we present them mature in Christ (Col 1:28). What matters is not how much seed is sown, but where that seed will flourish and in turn produce more seed (Mark 4:15-20). It is not even how many people pray an initial prayer acknowledging Christ; only those who persevere will be the laborers’ reward (cf. 1 Cor 3:14-15; 2 John 8).

Whatever the ministries God has assigned us, let us responsibly care for the sheep, and equip God’s people to minister to one another (Eph 4:11-13).

But the Antioch church’s mission began as an accident—or better yet, simply grew naturally. Once it began, however, the church became intentional about carrying out the task further.

Some of the first followers of Jesus were apparently ready to wait for God’s kingdom in Jerusalem—until Saul of Tarsus began persecuting the church there (Acts 8:3). Then the believers from there were scattered (8:4), and the Greek-speaking, immigrant Jewish believers in Jerusalem scattered to other places where they could speak Greek. Although rural Syria spoke Aramaic, the dominant language in cosmopolitan Antioch was Greek.

Eager to share their experience with others, these scattered, bicultural believers became unintentional missionaries (11:19-20). International migrations today often spread the gospel also. In some Western nations where traditional Christianity has been on the decline, for example, African, Asian and Latino/a Christians are growing new, evangelizing churches.

Unintentional missionaries—Christians scattered due to persecution but sharing Christ where they traveled—started the first house-churches in Antioch (Acts 11:19). These first Antioch Christians, living and working among Gentiles as well as Jews, began sharing the gospel with Gentiles (Acts 11:20). (The likeliest Greek reading of 11:20 speaks of “Hellenists,” a term used earlier for Greek-speaking Jews in Jerusalem in 6:1. Here, however, Hellenist Gentiles were in view—Greek-speaking Syrians.) Thus it was not surprising that they would eventually consider evangelizing Gentiles elsewhere. In fact, they embraced among them a former leader of the persecution that scattered them to begin with: Saul of Tarsus (Paul), who now had a call to evangelize the Gentiles (Acts 11:26).

Antioch was the major cosmopolitan center of the eastern Roman Empire, attracting a wide range of people from various parts of the Empire. Antioch’s various residents, already experiencing geographic and cultural transition, often tended to be more open to new ideas than those who had remained for a long time in their traditional location. Ministering to such a wide range of immigrants, the leaders of the Antioch church reflected similar diversity among themselves.

The leaders of the church were prophets and teachers (Acts 13:1). (Some think that the first three names, including Barnabas, were prophets, and the last two were teachers; but Barnabas also taught, according to 11:26. Probably all had both gifts, although they may have varied in their emphases.) Some of these leaders presumably came from Jerusalem (11:27), including Barnabas (11:22). Most, however, at least had significant cross-cultural backgrounds. For example, Barnabas, though from Jerusalem most recently, was originally from Cyprus (4:36); he probably had ties with some of the Cypriotes who helped evangelize Antioch initially (11:20).

Besides Barnabas, the leadership team included Simeon called “Niger” (13:1). Simeon was a common Jewish name, and “Niger” a common Roman name, which could suggest that he was a Jewish Roman citizen like Paul. But in this case, the expression “who was called Niger” differs from the other names in the list, perhaps suggesting a nickname. In this case, it would be meant descriptively: “Simeon the Dark” or “Simeon the Black,” observing his dark complexion, perhaps from northern Africa.

Less debatably, Lucius was explicitly from Cyrene in North Africa (13:1), and thus was perhaps one of the original founders of the Antioch church (11:20). Cyrene was in an area earlier settled by Phoenicians, with indigenous North African inhabitants and many Greek and Jewish settlers (sometimes estimated at one-third each). The culture included a mix of these various elements. “Lucius” was a common Greek name, but non-Greeks also used Greek names in places where Greek was spoken. Many non-Jews converted to Judaism, so we do not know the ethnic background of Lucius’s ancestors.

Between Lucius from North Africa and Simeon the Dark one may find significant African representation in leadership in this Greco-Asian church. (Greeks and Romans considered both Judea and larger Syria to be in Asia, so the entire leadership team likely comes from Asia and Africa. Europeans and their descendants should not feel left out, however, since in Acts Paul is eager to preach in Rome, and Romans 15 shows that he also wanted to evangelize Spain.)

Perhaps of special interest to many African-American Christians, the list may also include those descended from slaves. That Manaen was “brought up with” Herod Antipas could mean that he was a playmate from another noble family, but it could also suggest that he was a family servant. In that culture (as opposed to U.S. history) an aristocratic family’s servant could wield great social power and wealth, whether before or after being freed. Often aristocrat boys freed their servant playmates when both grew up, providing them powerful positions.

In Manaen’s case, this is merely a possibility. In Saul’s (Paul’s) case, however, it is likely. A majority of Jews who were Roman citizens were so because their ancestors had once been slaves in Rome. (In the first century BCE, Rome enslaved many Judeans and brought them to Rome.) Once a Roman citizen freed a slave under certain conditions, that slave became a Roman citizen, as did the slaves’ descendants.

Saul of Tarsus was probably one of the Cilicians who belonged to the synagogue of Freedpersons in Acts 6:9. The term translated Freedpersons there designates those freed by Romans, hence signifying this synagogue as a prestigious institution in Jerusalem—a congregation started by Jewish Roman citizens. Acts 6:9 notes that this synagogue of Freedpersons included Jewish people from various locations (including Cilicia, where Tarsus was, and where Saul’s ancestors may have migrated from Rome). It thus seems likely that Paul was a Roman citizen (16:37) because, several generations earlier, his ancestors were slaves in Rome.

In any case, this list of leaders shows a great diversity of backgrounds. What matters more than all the differences, though, is what binds them together. These leaders worship God, praying and fasting, and are ready to hear His call when He speaks (Acts 13:2). Whatever our diverse backgrounds on other points, the one God we serve unites us by his Spirit. This diverse, cosmopolitan church, with its diverse leadership team, birthed a vision that Jesus had already imparted in Acts 1:8. Empowered by the Spirit, two emissaries from this church were preparing to reach the world!