It Seemed Good to the Holy Spirit and to Us: Acts, Discernment, and the Mission of God

By Mark Love

The letter sent at the conclusion of the Jerusalem council to gentile Christians includes the line, "It seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us . . ." (Acts 15:28). Contemporary congregations desire similar moments but are simply not built for them, lacking the discernment postures and practices that would make such a moment possible. This work undertakes a deep reading of Acts 1-15, asking the questions, "What led to this pivotal moment in Acts?" and "What can we learn about discernment for churches today?" Along the way we learn that discernment is not simply a process that conjures the Holy Spirit but the byproduct of a way of life shaped by participation in the mission of God.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wipf and Stock
• Release date: Dec 27, 2023
• ISBN: 9781666789126

Mark Love

Mark is a freelance writer and has written for Deal or No Deal, Celebrity Big Brother 7 and for Restoration. He was the sketch writer behind the Emmy Award winning TV comedy series Smack the Pony.Jacqui Saunders has previously worked as a hand modeller, a muralist, an illustrator and a set and party stylist. She currently is a lecturer in art and design and writes for interior design publications. Jacqui and Mark are married and live together with their two children in London.

Book preview

1

The Possibility of a 15:28 Church

If a museum existed for documents that changed the world, among the exhibits, next to The Magna Charta, The Emancipation Proclamation, King’s Letter from a Birmingham Jail, Luther’s 95 Theses, and the lyrics from The Free-Wheelin’ Bob Dylan, would be the letter penned by the Jerusalem church to Gentile believers recorded in Acts 15. Highlighted in the docent notes near the exhibit would be the words, it seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us . . . (Acts 15:28). This momentous letter put into official decree what the church was learning from the Holy Spirit, that to God no person is unclean. This decree forever changed understandings of the scope and focus of God’s mission. Put succinctly, the Gentiles were now welcome as full participants in Israel’s covenant as Gentiles.

This document allowed the church to make its claims and offer its message as good news for everyone. As Peter proclaims at Pentecost in Acts 2, the pouring out of the Spirit on all flesh means that the promise is for you, and for your children, and for all who are far away, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to him (Acts 2:39). The decision in Acts 15 to impose on (Gentile converts) no further burden (15:28) kept the church from remaining an insular, local sect. This new reality allowed the church to sweep across all nations and cultural realities on the bounteous winds of the Holy Spirit. In a book full of high moments, Acts 15 might be the highest. All that comes before it serves this moment, and everything that comes after depends on it. It belongs in a place of prominence in our museum of famous, world-changing documents.

But what if it is more than that? What if it is more than just a singular, museum-worthy moment? What if this moment gives us necessary clues as to how God is still active in the world? What if this moment illustrates precisely what it means to be the church? In other words, what if this instance of discernment says something about what kind of community the church should be? What if the very life of the church was intended to produce moments like this, both then and now? Perhaps these subsequent it seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us moments would not make it into our museum of famous documents. But what if the church’s life was meant to lead to aha moments like these, both big and small? These could become moments where the church gains ground on its understanding of what God is doing in the world.

The Church as a Discerning Community

I think it can be demonstrated that Acts 15 is not merely a decision-making moment in the life of the first Christians. It is more than that. It is the outcome of a particular way of life. Namely, it is the outcome of a way of life committed to being clothed with power from on high (Luke 24:49). Many have said that the Acts of the Apostles might more appropriately be titled Acts of the Holy Spirit. I think this is exactly right. The church in Acts learns a way of life that assumes the prior movement of the Holy Spirit. Therefore, it needs to discern that movement and bear witness to what God is accomplishing through the Spirit. Put another way, the church in Acts is being drawn into a way of life that is a participation with the living God, the risen Christ, and the moving Holy Spirit.

To see the church as Luke does is to see it as a theological endeavor. By theological endeavor I mean that the church’s life is conceived of and arranged in such a way that the pursuit of God remains its focus. The church in Acts is not first interested in questions of organization, or strategies for outreach, or institutional vitality. It is, instead, first interested in being swept up into the promises of God. Where is God leading? Who is God calling? To whom is God calling us? What will it mean to be obedient to God’s calling? How do we make sense of our shared experiences of God in light of the testimonies to God found in Scripture?

I hope I am wrong, but I do not get the sense that these are the questions that drive the lives of most congregations today, at least not the way Luke envisions the church in Acts. I can say this as one who served congregations fulltime for over seventeen years. Though I certainly hoped that our congregation was focused on participation in the life of God, the questions that would hold this concern in focus were not my primary questions in ministry. I was driven, rather, by questions related to the success of the church as an organization or institution. Are we growing? What programs could we offer that would attract new members and keep existing members satisfied? These questions arose directly from my own anxiety about performance and affirmation, shared by other leaders in our congregation, which kept the questions about God on the back burner.

I strike a chord with congregational leaders when I tell them that there are ways of leading the congregation other than customer service. This strikes a chord because so much of what constitutes the work of church leaders is keeping people happy, which is often unsatisfying work. And member satisfaction is real leverage in congregational life because we have nothing in our bag of leadership options that trumps personal dissatisfaction. By that I do not mean there are no arguments more important than personal dissatisfaction. I mean they do not work. They have little persuasive power. The primacy of the private judgment and experience of the individual bequeathed to us by certain Enlightenment ideals often reduces church life to a kind of spiritual marketing tied to program excellence. There’s always another church down the road more to my liking.

Spiritual marketing and program excellence are exhausting. They require constant maintenance and energy, and, as a result, they make the question of God a luxury. Let me be clear. I am not saying that congregations do not teach about God, or worship God, or care about what God wants in the world. I am saying they lack the practices and inclinations to be attentive to what God might be up to in their midst. They lack the postures and practices to have it seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us moments as a natural outcome of their way of life.

I once served as a consultant for a congregation that was between ministers. They wanted the calling of their new minister to be a God-led experience. In other words, they wanted something resembling a good to the Holy Spirit and to us moment. Their congregational life, however, made this nearly impossible. They had no existing mechanisms or practices necessary for a moment like this to occur. They were organized to produce Sunday worship and classes and to occupy people in programs. They had little in the way of a common life, and so they had no spaces for sharing stories about what God might be doing. They had no congregational practices of prayer other than those offered from the front in the worship assembly. They had little to no idea about who their neighbors were and no hunches about what the Spirit might be doing among or between them. They simply did not live in such a way so that it seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us was a very likely outcome.

I consulted with another congregation that had an important decision to make about a new space in which to meet. Do they build, or do they buy an existing building? Do they lease space, or do they go lean with their building needs and spend their money in other ways? Should they hire additional staff or start new ministries? They too wanted this to be a Spirit-led decision. They wanted something more than strategic or purely pragmatic solutions. They wanted to pursue God in a process of discernment. But they struggled to stay in the process they initially outlined. To some of them it seemed slow and indecisive, an instance of weak leadership. Sometimes it does take more time to discern things in light of our collective experience than it does for a few people to make a decision for the rest, especially when discernment is not a way of life embedded in ongoing congregational practices. I am convinced that part of their impatience was because this way of discerning was not second nature to them. This was not the way they knew, either from their experience at church or from their professional lives, both of which value pace and efficiency.

Along these lines, another congregation I know determined to discern the leading of the Spirit related to potential changes in their corporate worship. They even cited Acts 15:28 as the outcome for which they hoped. So, they called the congregation to prayer for a few weeks and then invited them to attend one of two congregational meetings where they might learn together the direction the Spirit was leading them. These subsequent congregational meetings certainly revealed what members thought of proposed changes to their worship—exposing widely divergent ideas and attitudes. The thin practice of a few weeks of prayer was not robust enough to overcome personal preferences, and it was subsequently too weak to discern the leading of the Holy Spirit. The process did not include other practices over time, which might have provided broader perspectives for pursuing the question, what is the living God calling us to be or to do?

All three of these congregations viewed discernment as an episodic activity that could be accomplished in a short period of time, within a thin set of practices, rather than a birthing of an imagination that flows from a way of life shaped around a constant pursuit of God’s leading. They simply were not built for a Holy Spirit and us moment.

I am asserting two things in these opening passages. First, it seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us is an outcome in which the church’s way of life produces a decisive expression in Acts. Second, our congregations today lack the practices and habits that would manifest a similar experience, suggesting at the very least that we have other ideas about the congregation’s life that are more important. What gains, then, might there be for us today in a careful rereading of Acts that takes 15:28 as a decisive clue to the church’s identity? This is the animating question of this book.

By suggesting a rereading, I mean only what we always do as interpreters—read familiar texts again around a new set of experiences or clarifying questions. We check these readings in a number of ways, but primarily through a literary and rhetorical correspondence between our developing imagination and the text itself. And because Acts is a second volume, we have to ask how our reading corresponds to the entirety of Luke-Acts.

The tradition I grew up in (Churches of Christ), prized Acts as an early blueprint for the continuing structure of the church. We passed it through an ecclesial filter, looking for apostolic examples of how the church should be organized, minus all the parts about the Holy Spirit. Other ecclesial readings focused on the missionary practice of the first Christians. What can we learn about successful missionary work by paying attention to Acts? Other readings are less ecclesial in their focus, such as seeing Acts as a development of salvation history, or as an apology for the Gentile character of a movement that boasts a Jewish messiah. There is some merit to each of these readings, but in my estimation they fail to capture the central themes of Luke-Acts.

I am also proposing an ecclesial reading, but not in the sense of a structural blueprint or handbook of missionary practices. By ecclesial, I mean to indicate the people of God through time is central to Acts, including both Israel and these Christians (Acts 11:26), whose story is inscribed within the story of Israel. Also, instead of focusing on things such as organization and missions practice, this reading focuses on the church as a community of the Spirit. I am proposing a Spirit ecclesiology. While not implying a contradiction, I suggest that while Paul presents the church as the body of Christ, Acts portrays the church as a community of the Holy Spirit. This perspective gathers all of the major themes of Luke-Acts and makes Acts 15 central to Luke’s purpose.

The Kingdom of God as a new Social Arrangement

In suggesting a Spirit ecclesiology, I point to two interrelated themes in Luke-Acts: the kingdom of God and the power of the Holy Spirit. These themes situate the church as the sign of God’s eschatological rule. So, allow me to introduce these themes.

First, let us simply ask, Is Luke doing ecclesiology? The short answer: Of course he is! After all, Luke lives and writes in a society that defines the individual in terms of the community, and not the other way around. Family, clan, and tribe define an individual’s reality in a fundamentally different way from the modern preoccupation with the autonomous individual. Any time we read Scripture in light of the personal needs or desires of the individual, we have likely missed the point. From beginning to end, the Bible tells the story of God blessing all people through the election of a covenant community. There is no mission of God apart from the people of God.

So, how does this priority of community express itself in Acts? We have now come to the theme of the kingdom of God. At the beginning of his ministry, Jesus comes proclaiming the nearness of the kingdom of God (Luke 4:43). At the end of his ministry, after his resurrection, he spends forty days with the apostles speaking about the kingdom of God (Acts 1:3). Everything in the middle has to do with the kingdom of God in some way. It is the animating theme of Jesus’ ministry. Contrary to a poor translation of Luke 17:21, which has distorted popular understandings, the kingdom of God is not within you, but more properly it is among you or in your midst. The kingdom of God is not principally a Jesus in your heart thing, but it is a new set of social arrangements—the world arranged according to God’s rule. Moreover, the kingdom of God is not simply an improvement on other kingdoms, but it is the offer of an alternative kingdom with different notions of belonging, power, and status. This kingdom is something new, even newsworthy. There is news, good news, concerning the appearing of God’s kingdom. The kingdom of God surely includes personal allegiances and commitments, but it expresses itself fundamentally by the things that happen between people, such as their use of possessions or the sharing of a table.

These new social realities appear early and often in Luke’s gospel. For instance, Mary’s song in the opening chapter of Luke, which is a paradigmatic text for all of Luke-Acts:

My soul magnifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my savior,

for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant . . .

He has shown strength with his arm: for he has scattered the proud in the imaginations of their hearts.

He has brought down the powerful from their thrones and lifted up the lowly:

he has filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty" (Luke

1

:

46–53

).

Notice that Mary sings of the saving and powerful work of God in terms of social arrangements. The proud and powerful are brought low, and the lowly are exalted. And notice, the powerful are "brought down from their thrones (italics added). The rule of God stands in contrast to the ways of other rulers. Mary’s language about rulers is not only poetic speech but foreshadows the concrete experiences of Jesus and his followers. For instance, twice Jesus instructs his followers on what to do when they are brought before synagogues, rulers, and authorities" (Luke 12:11; 21:12), which indeed happens on multiple occasions in Acts (4:1–22; 5:27–42; 12:1–5; 18:12–16; 21:27—23:11; 24:1–21; 25:6—26:32). I will come back to this later, but for now we should say that the theme of the kingdom of God as an alternative arrangement of power stands at the heart of Acts.

Growing up, I was taught that Pentecost brought the birth of the church. While I might want to qualify that statement now, I wholeheartedly agree that something epochal—something game-changing—happens at Pentecost. The coming of the Spirit in power in Acts 2 is as significant in Luke’s theology as is the birth of Jesus in Luke 2. They both signal the new and dramatic movement of God for the salvation of the world. These stories of new beginnings related to the dramatic coming of God set the table for everything else. The story of Pentecost in Acts 2 gives readers so much to take in: tongues of fire, a crowd from every nation under heaven, each hearing what is being said in their own tongue, Peter’s powerful sermon, salvation offered to all, repentance, baptism, and huge numbers added to the church. This is indeed a dramatic event. It is nothing less, according to Peter, than the appearing of the day of the Lord (Acts 2:20).

What is the outcome of such a dramatic day? What does the appearing of the day of the Lord produce? At the end of chapter two, Luke provides an elaborate summary that helps us interpret the dramatic events of Pentecost and to understand the events that follow (Acts 2:42–47). The shorter summary found in verse 42, elaborated on in verses 43–47, contains four elements. "They devoted themselves to the (1) apostles’ teaching, to a (2) common life (koinonia), to the (3) breaking of bread, and to the (4) prayers." Each of these elements is important to Luke and will be explored in subsequent chapters. At this point, it is enough to say that what Pentecost gives birth to is a community living in the new social arrangements of the kingdom of God—a church.

The Church in the Power of the Spirit

The church in Acts is a community of the Holy Spirit. In both Luke and Acts, the Holy Spirit serves as the catalyst for the appearing of the new work of God. Jesus enters his ministry in the power of the Holy Spirit, and the church in Acts continues in Jesus’ ministry through the leading (dragging?) of the same Spirit. For Luke, the church lives by and in the power of the Holy Spirit. This statement seems obvious, but we need to tie it back into our discussion of the kingdom of God to see its full significance. Though obstacles will present themselves throughout the story of Acts, the church does not live by or in other forms of power. In other words, the power of the Holy Spirit expresses itself as a certain kind of power related to the kingdom of God that stands in contrast to the kinds of power upon which other rulers and kingdoms rely. We have already noticed Jesus’ assumption that rulers and leaders have the power to call his followers to account, but we should also note that in that same text Jesus tells his disciples, do not be anxious how you should defend yourself or what you should say, for the Holy Spirit will teach you in that very hour what you ought to say (Luke 12:11–12). The lines and terms of engagement in Acts are clear and propel the narrative around this question: Can the kingdom of God make its way, in a world of other rulers and powers, armed only with the power of the Holy Spirit? The answer of Acts is a resounding Yes!

As noted above, some have read Acts as an apology for why early Christianity became primarily a Gentile movement. In other words, why did the Jews reject their own messiah, and why did the Gentiles accept him? There is little doubt that the inclusion of the Gentiles is a major issue in Acts. However, casting Acts in terms of Jewish rejection vs. Gentile acceptance misses this larger emphasis on the church standing in the power of the Spirit, confronted by other rulers and powers. Moreover, it does not account well for the stories we have concerning the acceptance of Jesus by both Jews and Gentiles. For instance, the large conversion stories in Acts are among the Jews (Acts 2:47; 6:7; 9:31), and success among the Gentiles is mixed. It is hard to chart the story completely around Jewish rejection and Gentile acceptance, or vice versa. What Jews and Gentiles have in common in Acts is that their rulers and authorities, those with certain forms of power at their disposal, oppose the early Christian movement. The Jewish council, civic magistrates, rulers, and others with economic power all oppose the early Christian movement with violence.

So, the followers of Jesus in Acts stand against rulers, both Jew and Gentile, in the power of the Holy Spirit. This reality is even more dramatic, given the social station of Jesus’ disciples in Luke-Acts. While there are exceptions, the followers of Jesus in Luke-Acts are those overlooked or left out in other systems of power: the poor, the sick, women, and children. Even the apostles are uncultured Galileans, lacking access to typical forms of political, economic, and religious power. And yet, in Acts, those who belong to the Way (Acts 9:2; 19:9, 23; 22:4; 24:24, 32)—the unwashed and overlooked—turn the world upside down (Acts 17:6) in the power of the Holy Spirit. Through the Spirit, they belong to God and to one another in a community serving an alternative kingdom. As Mary sings: He has shown strength with his arm: for he has scattered the proud in the imaginations of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones and lifted up the lowly (Luke 1:51–52).

This issue of power in the Holy Spirit is certainly a relevant theme for the church in the West living in the twilight of Christendom. American churches (white protestant churches in particular) are particularly susceptible to the temptations of power related to the social dislocation of our congregations. The realities of pluralism and secularism in Western democracies call into question the relationship Christianity has historically maintained with various forms of economic, political, and religious power enjoyed under the umbrella of a Christian America. How will we now make our way apart from assuming these forms of power? Some have responded to the anxiety related to the loss of social power and influence with an effort to restore previous relationships of power. The sway of a slogan such as Make America Great Again among white evangelicals in the past few national elections plainly names this desire for power.

This quest for a recovery of social power, in my estimation, is a fool’s errand. The sheer fact of living in an increasingly pluralistic society suggests we cannot go back. That ship has sailed, and the desperate attempt to recover that world will produce only a form of Christianity that is combative and mean spirited—an unattractive distortion of the faith. The way forward is to move forward and find anew our calling as God’s people who live, not according to the standards of power manifest in other kingdoms, but by the power of the Holy Spirit. And there is no better place to learn that way of life than Luke-Acts.

A Ministry Book

While this is a ministry book, it will pass through a close reading of most of Acts 1–15 to bring more color and texture to the outlines I have sketched. Hopefully, I have enticed you enough to read Acts again with me. Indeed, this is not a book to be placed between commentaries on your office bookshelf. This is a ministry book. The concerns that animate these pages are pastoral. I am particularly interested in issues of how communities and their leaders can keep God’s mission and the leading of the Holy Spirit at the forefront of their concerns. Each chapter will note implications for ministry, and I will offer examples from my own experience with congregations.

I am also trying to say something about good ministry by way of a close reading of Luke and Acts. I am demonstrating several convictions I have about ministry in how I deal with these texts. First, ministry finds its life in a deep engagement with Scripture. Ministry emerges naturally through a long habitation with Scripture. Good ministry is an art, requiring a well-funded imagination. In shaping a theological imagination, Scripture must be more than a tool one uses to solve puzzles. Instead, the deep structures of texts—the way they move, their rhythms, the peculiar way they name things—must become deep structures for ministers as well. This deep imagination, related to Scripture, is exactly what we find in Acts 15 when James summarizes the discernment of the