Despite the best efforts of that council to silence Jesus of Nazareth and his message, it wasn't enough. Jesus was alive.
It is worth considering how deeply intertwined Acts 3 and 4 are since the same episode lies at the heart of both chapters — namely, the healing of a crippled man outside the gates of the Temple (Acts 3:1–10). This was not a secluded or private event; rather, it was a miracle performed in front of multiple eyewitnesses, many of whom stood in "wonder and amazement" (Acts 3:10) as they saw this paralytic not only standing but also "walking and leaping and praising God" (Acts 3:8). There was no denying or refuting what had occurred, but the stunned silence of the mob prompted Peter to preach and prophetically explain what they had observed (Acts 3:11–26). In doing so, Peter draws attention to the power of Jesus that made the whole episode possible. By invoking the name of Jesus of Nazareth, the apostles were rapidly making enemies, especially since this scene was only a few months removed from the spectacle of Christ's crucifixion.
In the immediate aftermath of Jesus's death, his devoted followers were branded as a cult. They were stigmatized as those of "The Way," as the freakish disciples promoting the teachings of a dead Rabbi whom they claimed had risen from the dead. But as the apostles' message began to spread, so did opposition to that message. In many ways, Chapter 4 marks the first gust of hostility and persecution felt by the church, which was still in its infancy. As Peter preaches, a squad of temple policemen descends on the scene to take Peter and John into custody (Acts 4:1–4). The two apostles are incarcerated for the night until the council can convene the following day (Acts 4:5–6).
Peter and John are facing the same body of "rulers and elders" who presided over Jesus's phony trial — namely, the Sanhedrin, which consisted of a large council of priests and other religious authorities who would give rulings on civil and spiritual matters. Unlike Jesus's tribunals, though, the loudest voices in this instance would not be the Pharisees but instead the Sadducees. The Sadducees were a religious group in the first century who viewed religion as completely moral or ethical. Their affinity for rationalism informed their denial of the spiritual realm, which also meant they denied the resurrection. No wonder they were so "annoyed" (Acts 4:2). Not only were the apostles preaching about the resurrection, but they were doing so in connection with Jesus of Nazareth, the very Teacher they recently put on a cross.
The day after Peter and John's arrest, the Sanhedrin assembled and brought them in for questioning. "By what power or by what name did you do this?" they inquired (Acts 4:7). The "this" to which they are referring is, of course, the healing of the crippled man — who, by the way, is also standing before the council along with the apostles (Acts 4:10). The very presence of the maimed now healed man serves as an undeniable testimony to the miracle that had taken place. Everyone was familiar with him as a poor and decrepit beggar. Now, he was standing on his own two feet. Even so, the religious elitists could not bring themselves to admit that anything supernatural had occurred. They were adamant that a reasonable or rational solution could explain everything.
In a way, the council did what they were supposed to do, or so they thought. In Deuteronomy, Moses offers clear instructions regarding what God's people were supposed to do when a giver of signs or a "dreamer of dreams" gives a "sign or a wonder" that comes to pass (Deut. 13:1–5). If a "dreamer" or prophet says something will happen, and it does, only to use that as a sign to go after other gods, that prophet or "dreamer" was to be subjected to execution. God's words to his people are a reminder that he is the only God. There is none beside him. With that in mind, the tribunal's incentive to bring Peter and John before them makes a little more sense. Not only were they annoyed at the proclamation of the resurrection, but they were also checking the validity of the miracle or sign that had everyone talking. They could not have miracle workers running around performing "unchecked" signs, especially if those signs were done in Jesus's name.
Nevertheless, Peter's response is astounding. "Rulers of the people and elders," he exclaims, filled with the Spirit, "if we are being examined today concerning a good deed done to a crippled man, by what means this man has been healed" (Acts 4:8–9). Whereas the Sanhedrin evaded any sort of supernatural attribution, Peter forthrightly clarifies the reason he and John had been incarcerated: for doing something good for someone in need. The disciple formerly known as Simon, though, ups the ante by not only giving them the name by whom and through whom this miracle was performed but also by boldly preaching the gospel to the council members themselves: "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. This Jesus is the stone that was rejected by you, the builders, which has become the cornerstone. And 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 4:10–12).
It was "the name of Jesus of Nazareth" that saw this crippled man healed. He was made whole by nothing but the power of the resurrected Christ. Indeed, the same power that saw Jesus rise from the dead and reverse death's sting worked in this man to reverse his infirmity, such that now he was standing in front of them, and not a soul could deny that fact. Peter presses the matter even further by reminding the council that the Jesus to whom he is referring is the same Jesus "whom [they] crucified" (Acts 4:10). Despite the best efforts of that council to silence Jesus of Nazareth and his message, it wasn't enough. Jesus was alive. He had risen from the dead, thereby bringing to completion the work of redemption God had put into place before time began. Peter says as much in verse 11 when he connects the resurrection of Jesus to the prophetic words of Psalm 118:22. The words of that ancient Psalm are now true in and because of Jesus.
Although he was rejected and put to death, Christ rose from the dead as the cornerstone of the world's restoration. Accordingly, as Peter so boldly declares, there is no hope of salvation in any other name (Acts 4:12). The healing that occurred, which saw this crippled man made whole, was meant to show forth the truer and better healing found in Christ alone. "The salvation which had wrought on the lame man," notes Alexander Maclaren, "was but a parable and picture of the salvation from all ills of body and spirit, which was stored in that Name, and in it alone" (12:2.134). It was a living parable of the word of salvation and the hope of restoration that is offered to all in the name of Jesus. This, then, answers the problem raised by Deuteronomy 13 since rather than leading the people of God away from God, this "sign" was a fuller revelation of God himself. After all, Jesus was not some "other god," he was God come down in flesh and blood.
In the face of the menace of civil authority, the Body of Christ prays to the one true sovereign authority.
Peter's confidence leaves the Sanhedrin council "astonished" (Acts 4:13–14). Dumbfound by his words, they marveled at his boldness. It didn't make sense that an uneducated fisherman from Galilee was speaking so clearly and definitively. Neither could they make sense of the cripple who was now standing in front of them, but they had to do something about it. After a brief conference among themselves, they decide to threaten Peter and John to never talk about "this name" ever again (Acts 4:15–18), which, as you might imagine, flopped miserably. "Whether it is right in the sight of God to listen to you rather than to God, you must judge," Peter and John defiantly respond, "for we cannot but speak of what we have seen and heard" (Acts 4:19–20).
The Sanhedrin was in a bind. They could not enforce any punishment since that would risk a riot. But neither could they deny that "something" had happened. Eventually, the apostles are released with barely a slap on the wrist (Acts 4:21–22), which certainly left that entire tribunal utterly embarrassed in the wake of two backwoodsmen taking them to task so publicly. With Peter and John released, though, they hasten to gather with the church to share the news of what happened to them, prompting one of the most incredible responses by the early church to this first wave of opposition:
"When they heard it, they lifted their voices together to God and said, 'Sovereign Lord, who made the heaven and the earth and the sea and everything in them, who through the mouth of our father David, your servant, said by the Holy Spirit, "Why did the Gentiles rage, and the peoples plot in vain? The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers were gathered together, against the Lord and against his Anointed" — for truly in this city there were gathered together against your holy servant Jesus, whom you anointed, both Herod and Pontius Pilate, along with the Gentiles and the peoples of Israel, to do whatever your hand and your plan had predestined to take place. And now, Lord, look upon their threats and grant to your servants to continue to speak your word with all boldness while you stretch out your hand to heal, and signs and wonders are performed through the name of your holy servant Jesus.' And when they had prayed, the place in which they were gathered together was shaken, and they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and continued to speak the word of God with boldness" (Acts 4:24–30).
Nothing can upset his purposes since nothing can withstand his resurrection.
In the face of the menace of civil authority, the Body of Christ prays to the one true sovereign authority. The church understood that it was better to "obey God rather than men" (Acts 5:29). Indeed, at no point in this prayer do we hear the church making excuses or coming up with reasons as to why they can no longer talk about Jesus. They neither recoil nor retaliate, nor do they entertain the notion of staying silent. They don't back down, nor do they brandish swords to "get back" at those who oppose them. Instead, they just pray for more boldness. Their prayer is for a more resilient faith that would allow them to endure even as more threats are waged against them. Those in the church were assured of their belief that the Christ of God was none other than Jesus of Nazareth. He wasn't just some teacher from Galilee. He was the Lord's Christ, the "holy servant" of heaven through whom the world is reconciled to God. He is the true
Anointed One who thwarts every sordid scheme of mankind with the power of his resurrection.
Therefore, no matter how loudly or violently the nation's rage against the will of God, nothing can upset his purposes since nothing can withstand his resurrection. Even in the face of persecution and opposition, the church is made to understand that the forces of evil are powerless to foil or frustrate what God decrees. Notwithstanding the might that is marshaled against the kingdom of heaven, it cannot win. The plots of men are always overruled by the superintendence of the one who is sovereign over all creation. "Men imagine they can outwit God, thwart His plans," H. A. Ironside comments, "but God is over-ruling in all things and works everything according to the counsel of His will" (115). This is what imbues the church of God, both then and now, with indefatigable hope and braces it to stand in the face of deepening darkness.
Our world feels incredibly dark as the most basic moors of virtue and morality are severed by popular demand. At times, it can feel as though this is the worst it has ever been for Jesus's followers, which isn't true, of course. There have been far worse seasons in the history of the church. Social media, however, doesn't do us any favors when it comes to the "doom and gloom" of our day. It feels like we are living on the brink of disaster, with each morning seemingly bringing to fruition another chapter in the apocalypse. But what should the church's response be to all the mess and mayhem of our day? How should those who belong to Christ respond to the ever-deepening darkness all around them? Should they flee to the hills? Should they give in to the pressure to change our message? Should they pick up arms and retaliate? No, what the church needed then is the same thing the church needs now: to continue to speak the word of Christ with all boldness. After all, it is by that alone that sinners are redeemed, the darkness pushed back, and the world made new.
