“Living in an In-Between Time”

Acts 1:15-26

Remember when you were child, when the days leading up to Christmas, your birthday, or the last day of school seemed to stretch out forever? I can even remember thinking that I’d never graduate from high school, or college, or seminary, and that during seminary my ordination always seemed so far, far away. The days crawled by.

The irony is that these days I can barely remember those events. The further irony is that now that I’ve reached a point in life when I want time to slow down, it only goes faster. Sandy and I will soon have been married 14 years; I’ve been here almost 5 years, and the time has flown by. The past is gone in the wink of an eye. The future is upon us before we’re ever ready for it. The present is so very fleeting.

Whether it flies by quickly or crawls by slowly, we are always living through some sort of in-between experience. As Christians we are living through the most important in-between time in eternity, that time between our Lord’s ascension back into heaven and his coming again at the end of the age. All the while our expectant hearts echo the words of Revelation 22:20, “Come, Lord Jesus!”

Today’s text deals with a unique in-between experience for the church. During the 10 days between our Lord’s ascension and Pentecost, the soon-to-be-but-not-yet church, made up of some 120 followers of Jesus, gathered to wait for the promised coming of the Holy Spirit. What an interesting 10 days they must have been. The time leading up to them most definitely had been days of highest elation and deepest despair.

These folks had followed Jesus to Jerusalem, celebrating the happy throngs of Palm Sunday, and then living through the, first tense and then horrifying, days leading up to Good Friday. Plunged into the depths of despair by the crucifixion, they had given up hope. Then came the resurrection and 40 more wonderful days with Jesus. Then the ascension occurred, just prior to which Jesus told them, “… you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you…”

They had no idea when the Spirit would come. There was no countdown to Pentecost because they didn’t know what was going to happen that day. All they knew was that they had to wait. And wait they did, maybe patiently, maybe not. But wait they did, watching and praying the whole time.

Theirs was an active waiting, however. They didn’t just wait around and twiddle their thumbs. There was some necessary administrative business to which they had to attend. The original 12 were now 11. Judas had betrayed his Lord, and then in despair taken his own life. The focus of today’s sermon is on what came after that. We’ll not get sidetracked this morning by the gory details of his death, but I do need to share some words about Judas that serve as a warning to us all.

First, paraphrasing the words of Preaching the New Lectionary, Judas’ bitter end was the result of his vain attempts to obstruct the ways of God. The irony in that was that his attempt at obstruction of God’s will played a major part in its fulfillment: no betrayal, no arrest; no arrest, no crucifixion; no crucifixion, no resurrection. William Barclay’s words may contain the most serious warning about obstructing the divine will, “There can never be any peace for the man who betrays Christ, and is false to his Lord.”

Judas was gone. His damage had been done. Now it was time to replace him. It was Peter who stepped up to the plate, finally beginning to be the strong, steady rock for the church that the Lord had literally named him to be. Said Peter, “… one of the men who have accompanied us during all the time that the Lord went in and out among us, beginning with the baptism of John until the day when he was taken up from us – one of these must become a witness with us to his resurrection.”

Not just anybody could take the place left empty by Judas. Only a man, and it was a man, who had been with Jesus from his baptism until his ascension, and who had been a witness to the resurrection, could become the 12^th Apostle. That narrowed the field a bit. Ultimately two were nominated, so to speak: Barsabbas and Matthias. Scripture tells us that Matthias was chosen by the casting of lots. At least two reliable commentaries, The Anchor Bible and The Interpreters Bible, understand that to mean that an election was held. After spending time in prayer, the people voted – how very Presbyterian of them – and Matthias was elected. Or if we go with other interpretation, selected.

Matthias fit the criteria. Although the Spirit had not yet come upon them in the powerful ways that he would on Pentecost, the Spirit had to have been involved. Those waiting believers didn’t just pull two names out of a hat and flip a coin. They prayed, seeking God’s will in the matter. Then and only then did they vote. That Spirit, who like the wind comes and goes as he will, had to have been stirring in their hearts.

Yes, the believers were living though an in-between time, but even during such times there is God’s work to be done. Quoting from Preaching the New Lectionary, “The beginning of the [church] cannot be told until the nucleus of that community, the Twelve, is reconstituted.” The show couldn’t go on until the cast was complete. God’s business couldn’t be attempted until the leadership team was fully formed. The Spirit was coming, and the believers, led by Peter, had to be ready for his arrival.

Ideally this is a sermon that needs to be preached on either the Sunday we elect officers or the Sunday they are ordained and installed. First of all, we need to be reminded that this seemingly mundane business of electing elders and deacons is God’s business. Mundane or not it is necessary. We cannot allow the leadership team of Grace to be less than whole. The show that is our mission and ministry cannot go on with an incomplete cast.

Secondly, we need to remember that choosing elders and deacons is not a task to be taken lightly. We cannot simply pull a few names out of a hat and then flip a coin. We’re not looking for warm bodies to fill empty slots. We’re seeking God’s leading in electing those men and women who are best qualified to lead Christ’s church. Using the criteria of I Timothy 3 and our Book of Order to guide us we seek godly men and women who take their relationship with Christ and the life of this church seriously.

Are we looking for Super-Christians? No, there are no such creatures. Are we looking for perfection? No, there are neither perfect people nor perfect Christians. Are we seeking biblical scholars and theological whiz kids? Heaven forbid! No, we seek plain old, everyday, imperfect people, sinners even. The primary criteria must be that they profess Jesus Christ as their only Lord and Savior and lead, as best they can, lives that reflect the words they profess. We’re looking, just as those early believers looked, for disciples, for people who love Jesus and are willing to follow him.

Those first 12 Apostles weren’t superhuman. Nor were they perfect. Furthermore, they didn’t always like or agree with one another. That’s logical because they weren’t always likeable or agreeable. They were human beings: plain old, everyday, imperfect human beings.

I know for a fact that Presbyterian elders and deacons aren’t perfect. I live with a lady who has been ordained to both offices. I dare not be overly critical because she lives with a Minister of Word and Sacrament. She will be the first one to tell you that I’m not perfect, neither as a husband nor as a pastor. I don’t like making the bed. I track sock lint all over the apartment. I snore. I wake up with bad breath. I can be grumpy, grouchy, and crabby. I’ve been known to be impatient. My vocabulary is sometimes unsuitable for the pulpit. Sandy, better than anyone, knows about my self-doubts and insecurities, those moments when faith is lacking, those times of frustration with being not only a pastor but sometimes a Christian. Jesus I’m not.

And I should never try to be. When Peter picked up the reins of leadership during those in-between days leading up to Pentecost, he did not do so as a successor to Jesus. Jesus was irreplaceable. Peter knew that. So did Jesus. Why else the promise of a coming Counselor or Advocate, the promise of the Holy Spirit? Peter did nothing more – or less – than fill the role he had been called to fill. His lot was to lead, so he led.

And Matthias: he never went looking for the job of Apostle. He didn’t apply or compete for the position. He probably didn’t even want it. But when God, through the church, called he answered. He became an Apostle, and did those things that Apostles do: never perfectly, probably at times erratically, sometimes unhappily, but, within his human limitations, always as faithfully as possible.

Each of us is an apostle: rarely ready, hardly ever qualified, but usually willing to do those things that apostles do: never perfectly, occasionally erratically, sometimes unhappily, but, within our human limitations, always as faithfully as possible. Amen.