Theophilus

Propers: The Fourth Sunday of Easter, A.D. 2018 B

Homily:

Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

Annas was the most powerful man in Judea—or at least he was in the running.

For generations, the office of High Priest had gone to the highest bidder. For a while there it had been the King who appointed the high-priesthood, first to family members, then to whoever was willing to pay the most. Nepotism and simony. But a few decades back, Rome had come in like a wrecking ball, booted the corrupted kings from their thrones, and appointed a Roman governor in their stead—neatly eliminating the only local office that could rival the High Priest for prestige.

You had to be of a priestly family, of course, or at least rich enough to fake it. But there were plenty of those. Annas was the first High Priest appointed for the newly minted Roman province of Judea and he served for 10 years, consolidating power. A later governor deposed him—we don’t know why—but no matter. He managed to keep it in the family. Five of his sons, as well as his son-in-law Joseph ben Caiaphas, would go on to be appointed High Priest after him, each in his turn. And for as long as Annas lived, they would all answer to him.

If the names Annas and Caiaphas sound familiar, they should. Caiaphas was High Priest at the Crucifixion of Jesus Christ. He led the Sanhedrin, the governing council of Jerusalem. It was Caiaphas who calculated that it would be better for one man to die rather than for the whole nation to be destroyed. And it was Caiaphas who plotted to kill not only Jesus but also Lazarus, whom Jesus had so publicly raised from the dead, causing quite the stir. Some think that Jesus’ Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus is a not-so-veiled criticism of Caiaphas and his brothers-in-law.

But note also that at the arrest of Jesus, our Lord was taken first to be examined by Annas, the ex-High Priest, the father-in-law, who interrogates Jesus personally before sending Him on to Caiaphas to keep everything neat and legal. Caiaphas may hold the office, but it’s Annas who pulls the strings.

On that first blessed Easter Morning, when rumors of Resurrection begin to fly—and the atmosphere is so fraught with fear that only the women are brave enough to venture out—it is from Annas and Caiaphas that the Apostles are hiding in that upper room, cowering behind a bolted door. They fear that they too shall be brought before the High Priest. They fear that they too shall be captured, beaten, tortured, and murdered, perhaps on a cross of their own.

All of which makes today’s reading from Acts all the more astounding.

Peter and John, the two disciples chosen by Jesus to host His Last Supper, have been transformed by the Resurrection of their Lord. He has appeared to them in flesh and blood, indeed as more than flesh and blood, and He has breathed into them His forgiveness and new life. The Holy Spirit of the Lord has descended upon the Apostles as tongues of flame, resting upon them, dwelling within them, filling them up with the very Breath and Life and Love of God. And they have gone out into the city—upon the very stones so recently stained by Jesus’ Blood—proclaiming the Kingdom, announcing forgiveness, and healing the sick in the streets. And some 5000 come to believe in the Resurrection of the Lord.

This of course earns them a night in the hoosegow, and the next morning Peter and John are dragged not only before Annas and Caiaphas but before the entire high-priestly family as well. Luke, by the way, adds perhaps his own subtle dig when he refers to Annas, and not his son-in-law Caiaphas, as the true High Priest. We all know who wears the pants in the family.

Note that this is precisely what had so terrified the Apostles only weeks before: suffering the same fate as Jesus, facing the same wicked priests as Jesus. The danger has not passed. Death still stalks the Church, and will soon claim fresh martyrs. But now their fear is gone. Now their eyes have cleared.

And when the most powerful family in Judea then asks them by what power and in whose name they dare to do these things—to proclaim Resurrection, the forgiveness of sins—Peter proclaims, in the power of the Spirit, that these things have come to pass “by the Name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom you crucified, and whom God has raised from the dead! The stone that you rejected has become the chief cornerstone, and there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among mortals by which we must be saved!”

Now that takes guts: to stand before a mafia don and proclaim to him that someone he’s whacked is now back from the dead; and moreover that He has sent you to tell his killers that this is so. That’s hardcore right there. Peter doesn’t fear the High Priest anymore. Peter doesn’t fear death anymore. For he has seen God’s true High Priest arisen from the dead, and he knows that the grave holds no horrors for those who have been claimed by the Conqueror of Hell.

And the High Priest is shocked. Both of them are. They don’t know what to say. Even the accusers of Peter and John fall silent in wonder and fear. Who are these ordinary, uneducated men, who speak with such boldness and power? And who is this Jesus, who can so inspire His followers to such acts even from beyond the grave? The scene becomes almost comical. The high-priestly family must send the Apostles out while they discuss what to do, too afraid now even to conspire before them. And when they bring them back in, they threaten them not to speak in the Name of this Crucified Christ any longer, upon pain of—of—something!

And Peter replies, with a spine laced in steel, “Whether it is right in God’s sight to listen to you rather than God, you must judge. But we cannot stop preaching what we’ve seen and heard. And brother, let me tell ya, you sure as heck ain’t gonna stop us.” And Annas and Caiaphas—the most powerful men in Judea—the men who conspired to kill Jesus Christ—sputter and bluster and let them both go. They have no power here.

Thus many of the priests, Luke writes, soon came to believe in the Christ.

This, dear Christians, is the boldness we inherit, and in which we are called to live. For Peter and John faced their greatest fears and overcame them in the Spirit and power of the Risen Christ. And they did not stand before Annas and Caiaphas and decry, “You wicked sinners! You’ll burn in hell for what you’ve done!” No! They proclaimed with boldness that the very Christ whom they murdered—the Christ we all murdered—has risen to a life more alive than any we can imagine here below, and has overthrown the grave, opening the way of Life to all sinners, to all peoples, in His Name!

Jesus has not returned to punish Annas and Caiaphas. He has returned to save them.

One last note. I mentioned that in addition to Caiaphas five of Annas’ sons served as High Priest after him and were for the most part extensions of his will. But the son who was High Priest when Annas died was named Theophilus, which means one whom God loves. When Luke wrote down his Gospel, and the Acts of the Apostles which followed, he dedicated his two-part work to someone who was coming to faith in Christ Jesus, someone who wanted to know the Gospel not in part but in whole. Someone named Theophilus.

The villains of this story—the family who conspired to crucify the Lord—are in all likelihood the same family for whom this Gospel has been written and to whom it is dedicated.

Such is the power of Jesus’ Resurrection. Such is the mercy of the God who loves us all.

In the Name of the Father and of the +Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.