HAB Church Podcast

Sermon - "Silence... then Speech"

B.J. Hutto

Sermon preached by Dr. B.J. Hutto at Hendricks Avenue Baptist Church on May 18, 2025.

SPEAKER_00:

Thank you, choir. Ken, thank you for reading. When last we saw our intrepid hero, Peter, last Sunday morning, he was in the coastal city of Joppa, where he had just raised a woman from the dead. And having decided to stick around for a time, he was crashing at the home of a friend of his named Simon. Nobody asked what Simon did for a living. This week, we find him in Jerusalem having just made a surprising detour through the coastal city of Caesarea by the sea, where he had spent time with a Roman centurion named Cornelius. I say that this was a surprising detour, for one, because Peter doesn't intend it. While he's at Simon's house, Cornelius sends for him and asks him to come, and Peter... after hearing about this man's good reputation, obliges. But this was a doubly surprising detour because of what happened next. This morning, we find Peter in Jerusalem facing a skeptical audience as he recounts the events of that day. Peter, you see, had crossed a line. He had entered into the home of an uncircumcised Gentile, a Roman centurion, no less. And he had eaten with him something that was strictly forbidden. So the Christians of Jerusalem are scandalized by the fact that Peter would do such a thing. But Peter, you see, Peter is quick to point out that none of this was his idea. The Spirit told me to go, he says. The Spirit told me to make no distinction between us and them. And from there, the story gets stranger. As Peter began to talk with this centurion and his household, he says to the crowd in Jerusalem, suddenly the Holy Spirit fell upon them all just as it had fallen upon us at the beginning. And then he asks them, if God gave them, Cornelius and his household, if God gave them the same gift that he gave to us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ? Who was I that I could hinder God? And when the people of Jerusalem heard Peter's tale, the text says, they fell silent. Why the silence? Why do you think the believers there in Jerusalem got silent at Peter's story? Certainly, I think it's safe to say that they've stopped criticizing him like they had been at first. Now that they know that this was God's doing, that it was God who told Peter to go to a Gentile's home, and it was God who baptized them with the Spirit before Peter could ever baptize them with water, well, now that they know that, then they know that continuing to criticize Peter doesn't do much good. But at the same time, now that they know that, now that they know that God would do something like that, would want to send Peter to break bread with Gentiles, would want to send the Spirit on this Roman centurion and his household, then a whole lot of other stuff that they thought they knew just went out the window as well. And they're stunned. They're stunned. Because all of their lives they had been told that the world was not supposed to work like this. The kingdom is not supposed to work like this. The God of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob is supposed to be for the children of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob and the other nations, the Gentiles. Well, they're supposed to be on the other side of things, on the outside, looking in. And foremost amongst them should be the Romans. The Romans, who using the swords and the spears of people just like Cornelius had subjugated and oppressed and persecuted them for generations. So for a Roman soldier to all of a sudden be given the same gift that they had received, The gift of God's Spirit, the gift of God's grace. They're stunned. Because what Peter had done in going to Cornelius' home and sitting at his table and breaking his bread, all of that pales in comparison to what their God has now done. And so, for a moment, these men and women of Jerusalem stand there in silence. Their whole world having just been turned upside down. But just for a moment. Excuse me. Because after taking a moment to catch their breath, to take it all in, they then begin to praise their Lord. Do you see the shift here? At the beginning of the story, these Jerusalem Christians are incensed that Peter had simply entered into the home of this Gentile Cornelius. Cornelius was a Roman. He was unclean, untrustworthy, an enemy, an outsider in every respect. Cornelius and his kind had literally come into and overrun their homeland. And for that, they were to be hated, not loved. And yet by the end of the story, they are forced to face the fact that Cornelius, the outsider, is actually Cornelius, the insider. He is Cornelius, the Christian, Cornelius, their brother in Christ. And after taking a moment to compose themselves in the face of this fact, they suddenly, surprisingly, begin to sing God's praise. I don't think it's too much to look at this tale, at this change that comes over the Jerusalem Christians, and see a story of repentance. At the beginning of the story, they look at Cornelius and all they can see is somebody that they are supposed to be at odds with. a Gentile, a Roman, a centurion. At the beginning of the story, they are ready to condemn Peter for entering Cornelius' home and sharing a meal with him, but by its end, they have changed. They see that their God loves Cornelius and his kind just as much as their God loves them. They've learned that the gospel, the good news of Jesus Christ, isn't just for some people, but that it is instead for all people. And once they see this, they repent. It takes them a second. This change shakes them up a bit. But to their eternal credit, they are able not just to accept this as truth, they are able to embrace it as good news. And they turn. They don't just stop criticizing. They don't just fall silent and stay silent. But they instead celebrate God's great love for Cornelius and for all the rest. They turn. From one thing to another, they turn. They repent. My friends, this is a short and a simple sermon, and at its core is a question. Do we, like these Jerusalem Christians, need to repent? Certainly, there are plenty of things that you and I could and therefore should repent of, but specifically, In the spirit of this story and of these ancestors of ours who welcome Cornelius, their former enemy, as their new family, are there people in this world whom you and I need to welcome as well? Are there people that we have been told are our enemies, are not to be trusted, or are not to be loved because they are not part of us? Are there people that we simply don't like, whom we know we are called to love because God loves them and therefore we need to repent of our bad feelings towards them? I suspect there are. I suspect there are individuals or indeed entire classes of people that each and every one of us here needs to learn to love. That we need to stop hating and stop judging and stop slandering and start to love, choose to love. not because loving them will make us nice people, but instead because this is what God has done. This is what Jesus has done, and this is what Jesus has called all of us to do. Because here's the thing. That person that you and I may not like, those people that we have been told we cannot trust, because of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, they are already caught up in the panoply of God's all-encompassing love. They are already destined for the eternal glories of the kingdom in which, as the psalmist has told us today, the entirety of the created order, not just the men and the women or the old and the young or the rich and the poor, but everything, the mountains and the hills, the sea monsters and the stars, everything, sings a song of God's praise. And so you and I, you and I can either repent of whatever it is that is keeping us from loving them. Repent of it, turn from it, run from it. and then love and be loved in return, or else we can reject the call of God, ignore the love of God, the movement of the Spirit, and be on the outside of it all, looking in. You know, Jesus, Jesus once told a story about this extraordinarily faithful man. He honored his father and his mother. He took care of his business. He was just and upright in all of his ways. But then one day, one day his little brother, who had run off, came home. prodigal, they called him. And to be fair, he was lousy, lazy, wasteful, didn't do things the right way, refused to pitch in and earn his keep. All of his life, he had been a drain on the family's resources. Well, when little brother moves back home, Dad decides to throw him a party. This son of mine was dead, he tells anyone who will listen, but now he is alive. Before he was lost, now, see, he is found. So they kill the fatted calf, string up some lights, strike up the band, and invite all of the neighbors to the feast. But the older brother, that older brother who had been so dutiful and faithful and upright in all things, decided that he could not honor this duty. He refuses his father, refuses to show grace, refuses to love. And so as the party rages inside the house, that older brother stands out in the darkness, alone. Amen. You know, when we approach stories like the one today with Peter and Cornelius, just like I did this morning, we tend to approach it from the vantage point of Peter or of the Jerusalem Christians, again, like we just did. But one thing that we have to always remember is that in this story, we are not primarily Peter. We are Cornelius. We are all of us the outsider who has been let in. The enemy who has been made family. All of us. start out as Cornelius and trace that same path into the great family of God. If you're here today and you are afraid that you are an outsider, or that you are an enemy, or that because of something you have done or failed to do, God doesn't love you, perhaps can't love you, Or perhaps you don't deserve that love. And the message of this story and of this church and of the gospel of Jesus Christ is that that is not true. And if you wish to receive that love, or find new family, then now is the time in our service when such things might be made known publicly. As we stand together as we are able, and sing.