How Did That Make You Feel, Paul?

If a Christian man from the modern world were stoned almost to death for his faith, it would not be relegated to a footnote in his biography. It would clothe the pages of history books and adorn the covers of evangelical magazines for years to come. He would give interviews, he would talk on podcasts — answering ridiculous questions like ‘What did it feel like when the first stone hit you?’ and ‘Was your faith challenged when the rocks were rolling in?’ (One hopes — should this scenario ever eventuate — that the man in question replies with ‘Loved every bit of it.’ and ‘What do you think, genius?’ respectively).

In the chronicles of the apostles, Luke cares for none of these things. He simply mentions, in passing, that “after winning over the crowds — oh, and stoning Paul — they dragged him outside the city” (v19, MHV). In the next verses, there is no time to dwell on how this made Paul feel. One gets the impression — dare I say it — that Paul’s feelings at this time were irrelevant to Luke’s account of the gospel expanding into the Gentile oikumene. Indeed, the stoning itself is added as an adjunct to the story, only necessary inasmuch as it give context to the message of v22b:

“Through many afflictions we must enter the kingdom of God.”

As far as the record of Acts is concerned, Paul got up and got on with it. Stoning or no stoning, there was work to be done. The verses that follow (v20-27) are simply breathless. They depict the sort of duty-bound fervour at the sight of which your typical twenty-something Aussie bloke — who, by the way, is in perfectly good health, not having been stoned recently (at least not in the biblical sense) — would open up yet another YouTube video and bury his head further into chronic distraction from real life.

In the modern world, we get the sulks any time something doesn’t go our way. When someone offends us, we dwell on it for weeks. When we are unwell, everyone knows about it, and we make sure to tell them how admirably we are handling it. When something we want fails to happen, we feel sorry for ourselves for months and allow our untethered emotions to grind our lives into the dust.

For men especially, such behaviour is weak and shameful. Get up, and get moving; there’s work to be done! To quote an uninspired, but almost deuterocanonical writer:

“There was no time for play.

There was no time for fun.

There was no time for games.

There was work to be done.”

(Dr. Seuss)

In speaking of trials, Peter’s turn of phrase is also excellent:

“Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial among you, which comes upon you for your testing, as though some strange thing were happening to you. But to the degree you are sharing the sufferings of Christ, keep on rejoicing…” (1 Peter 4:12-13)

As Christians, we follow a Man who lived a difficult life that culminated in one of his best friends betraying him, his best friend denying him, and his people crucifying him. Then, when we get a flat tyre at “just the wrong time”, we can’t believe it. ‘Why is this happening to me?’, we ask, perplexed.

Well. It’s happening because you follow Christ, the guy who asphyxiated to death with nails in his hands. And he wants you to have the same post-death-and-resurrection joy that he has now. So embrace the difficulty with joy (1 Pet 4:13), praise God for it, and get on with your work. Do this, and God will bring you through this season of death into a season of resurrection, full of unimaginable earthy delights.