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A Reading from Acts 14:8-18

See, the difference between me and Paul is that I’ll admit that kind of stuff. Paul never would admit that kind of stuff, but, you listen to me, I traveled all over the place with Paul for years, and I’m telling you – he won’t admit it, but he felt it.

What? Oh, I’m sorry. I’m getting ahead of myself. My name is Barnabas. You can call me ‘Barney,’ but I’ll slap you up side the head if you do. Barnabas, got it?

Anyway, you invited me here to tell you about that day in Lystra. I appreciate the invitation, I really do. I don’t get invited to talk much, so I’m not very practiced at it. When you travel around with Paul, believe me, you don’t get to talk much. You get to listen to Paul a whole lot, but you don’t get to be saying much – can’t hardly get in a word edgewise.

Anyway, when you gave me this chance to talk, I guess I just got a little excited. I guess that day in Lystra just brings back such a flood of memories that I got ahead of myself. Sorry. Let me start at the beginning.

They was heady days. We was in the middle of our mission to the Gentiles. You know, a lot of the brothers in Jerusalem, especially Peter, was really upset with us for doing that. They said, "Gentiles are unclean and uncouth. If they want to follow Christ, let them convert to Judaism. You people have no sense of tradition." And they was pretty upset with us, you know. But they were talking about something they didn’t know nothin’ about, because they didn’t see it. They didn’t see how astounding it was when we preached the good news of Jesus Christ to them Gentiles. It was powerful, and lives was changed, and we knew in our hearts that it was the Holy Spirit.

But I’ll tell you one thing: I was glad Peter and them wadn’t with us at Lystra that day. It was comical, at least in hindsight. Didn’t seem so funny at the time, but looking back, lordy, if Peter hada been there, he’d a said it confirmed everything he feared about convertin’ Gentiles without making ’em Jews first.

Well, anyway, here’s what happened. We get to Lystra and we see this man sittin’ there who’s all crippled up. We talk to him for a while and find out that he’s been born crippled and ain’t never walked. Now, lots of sick people we couldn’t heal ‘cause the truth was they got a lot out of being sick; they worked it, you know; they got a lot of mileage out of it. Folks feeling sorry for ‘em, and waiting on ‘em, and them having a built in excuse not to succeed or be responsible an all that kind of thing. No, really, lotsa folks have their whole identity bound up in being sick some way or ‘tother, and you can’t hardly heal ‘em.

But it didn’t take long for either one of us to see that this guy wadn’t like that. He was something. And it was like what Paul was speaking (and ‘acourse it was Paul doin’ all the talkin’), anyway, when Paul was speakin’, it was like his words just filled this guy up like you fill up a glass up with water. It’s hard to describe, but it was clear that this guy wanted it; he wanted Christ and he wanted health and he wanted it all, and, most important of all, he had the courage, the guts, to go for it. So Paul says to him, "Stand up." Just like that: "Stand up on them crippled feet." And this guy, Lord I admire him, he just jumps up. Jumps up, mind you. Right on them crippled feet that he had never even walked on. Had not one logical reason in the world to think that he wouldn’t just fall flat on his face in front of everybody. Make a fool of hisself, and maybe even get hurt.

But he did’n. He walked. I admired that man; he had the guts to leave a disability behind when lots of people, despite their lip service, hang on to theirs for dear life. I reckon most of us have some sort of thing that ain’t quite right about us that we say we wish we could change, but when it comes right down to it, we hang on to it. But, God bless ‘em, this guy just jumps up and walks. Lord, I admire him.

Anyway, that’s when it gets to be a circus. What we didn’t know, see, (we found this out later), was that these folks in Lystra had this legend about a time when Zeus and Hermes disguised themselves as humans and visited this old couple nearby. Now according to this legend, the couple showed them hospitality even though they didn’t know they was entertaining gods, and they was lavishly rewarded.

Well, if we’d ‘a knowd about that legend, we’d ‘a probably figured that they’d freak out like they did when that ‘ol crippled boy jumped up and walked. I mean, they go crazy. Lord, what a scene. They completely miss the point, ‘acourse, about the courage of the crippled man or the credit for the miracle goin’ to God, and they take to calling me "Zeus" and Paul "Hermes," and they start fallin’ all over themselves trying to make us happy. I mean, they was clowns. It was pitiful; I thought they was goin’ to wet themselves. They run off to get the priest of Zeus from the temple, and they want to make sacrifices to us, and they bring us oxen and garlands. Lordy, what a circus, what clowns.

Well, a’course, we’ll have none of it. We start to hollerin’ to them to knock it off. "Quit it!," we’re yellin’, "We’re just mortals same as you, and we bring you news of the real God, not these worthless gods you’ve made up. The real God has given you everything you’ve got – the seasons, rain, food, joy. Everything." We still had a time trying to get them not to sacrifice to us.

Well, I started off telling you what I will admit and Paul won’t. I guess I’m where I can tell you about that now. Wait, wait, first I want to tell you about something else. It’s kinda related, I guess. I want to tell ya’, kind of confess to you I guess, not much of a confession, though, that it felt good to me that I got to be Zeus. ‘Acourse, you know that I don’t believe in them gods, but they did, and since Hermes was a messenger, and Paul couldn’t hold still for five minutes without flappin’ his gums, they thought he was Hermes. That meant that they thought I was Zeus. Now, even thought I know them gods don’t exist, still, Zeus! Zeus was the headknocker god, and after being Paul’s sidekick for so long, I don’t mind tellin’ you that it felt kinda good to me to be called Zeus and let Paul be one of them lesser gods, even though Hermes was pretty important. He wadn’t Zeus, though.

So, that kinda relates to my main confession, the one I’ll make and Paul won’t admit to — even though you know good and well that it’s true for him, too. Paul just ain’t in touch with his inner child. Anyway, that’s another story.

What my confession is, is that it felt kinda good being treated like a god. I mean, I knew it was wrong; I knew right away that it was wrong; I knew that the Living God had healed that brave man, and I knew that God deserved the credit, and that they were giving us credit for what God had done (and, honest, I was hollerin’ for ‘em to stop just as quick as Paul), but I’m just sayin’, and I think I’m secure enough with myself to say it, I’m just sayin’ that it felt good. It was temptin’ when all those clowns wanted to bow down to us and bring us stuff and treat us like gods. It was temptin’ to just take the credit for what God done.

I hadin’ talked about that day much since then, but I’ve done some thinkin’ on it. Mostly I’ve thought about how temptin’ it is to take the credit for what God has done, how good it feels to play the part of Zeus. I think about how God has given me everything: my life, my breath, my health, my talents (anything I can do well, I might work hard at that, but that talent comes from God). Those times when I’ve said the right thing at the right time and I could feel that them words came from outsida’ me, that was a gift from God. So is my money and all my possessions; I ain’t got nothin’ that I did’n get because of the gifts God has given me. I reckon the list could go on.

And then I think about all the times in my life when I don’t thank God for all them things. The times when I take credit, even. Just like playing Zeus. When I congratulate myself because I said the right thing, or because I used my talents to do something big, or because I’m so smart, or I’m so clever, or I look at my money and possessions and I think "them things is all mine; I worked hard for all that," or when I talk to a friend and some broken feelings get healed like that ol’ boy jumpin’ up, and I congratulate myself on being such a good friend. Or when I sit down to a meal, and I think, "I paid for this meal," or "I made this meal," and I don’t think, "This meal, that keeps me alive, is the fruit of God’s creation."

Well, I had’n got to talk in a long time, and now maybe I’ve done talked too much. But I guess it’s because I have thought about that day in Lystra a lot. ‘Bout how maybe, much as I hate to admit it, I’m kinda like them clowns–not givin’ God the credit.

Well, anyway, . . . you folks is probably different.