The Spirit is an important figure in Christian experience and in Christian theology. The festival of Pentecost, which is celebrated this coming Sunday, is an opportunity to focus on the Spirit in the worship life of the Church. Every year, at Pentecost, the story of “the first Pentecost” is proceed by the lectionary as the reading: an account of how the Spirit was experienced by believers gathered in Jerusalem, 50 days after the death and resurrection of Jesus.
Acts 2 forms a pivotal turning point in the story that Luke tells throughout his two-volume work, which we know as two separate books, The Gospel according to Luke, and the Acts of the Apostles. The Spirit plays a crucial role in both volumes, beginning before Jesus and his cousin John are born, and continuing right through until the final thing that Paul says, when he meets with the Jewish leadership in Rome while under house arrest.
Over the last few years, I have written quite a number of posts for this week, as we approach Pentecost. I’ve listed them below, as you may wish to dip into some of them in the lead up to Pentecost.
The passage from Acts which is offered by the lectionary this coming Sunday (Acts 10:34–43) is an impassioned speech to Gentiles, by the Jewish man, Peter. It is one of a number of speeches that are found throughout the first two thirds of the book of Acts, in which one of the leaders in the movement that was initiated by Jesus (and would later become “the church”) spoke to others, declaring “the good news about the kingdom of God and the name of Jesus Christ” (8:12; see also 8:25, 35, 40; 13:32; 14:7, 15, 21; 15:7; 16:10; 17:18; 20:24).
These speeches, of course, all come to us from the pen of one person, the author of this work; although they are, in good speech-writing style, shaped to the particular situation at hand, there is nevertheless a consistency of themes, ideas, and language that runs through the speeches which have what me might call an evangelistic purpose—declaring the good news (the evangel) to those who have not yet heard it. Whether it is Peter, Stephen, Philip, or Paul who is speaking, the message is consistent and focussed on Jesus and how he relates to God’s intention for the people being addressed.
So Peter has come, by a sequence of events that Luke wants us to understand were quite miraculous, from Joppa to Caesarea; from the house of the Jewish man Simon, a tanner, with whom he was staying in Joppa (9:43), to the house of Cornelius, a centurion—and thus most likely a Gentile—in Caesarea (10:1–2). That movement, in itself, is quite significant, as Peter moves from his fellow-Jews to the Gentiles. Cornelius was sympathetic to Judaism; he is described as “a devout man who feared God … who gave alms and payed constantly” (10:2), he was, nevertheless, a Gentile; and those of his household were, likewise, Gentiles.
What Peter says in this speech in the Gentile household of Cornelius needs to be understood in the context of the events that have just taken place, and indeed in terms of the whole span of events recounted in this volume. Peter had been called to Caesarea by a vision, in which God spoke directly to Peter (10:9–15)—and Luke,reports that this took place, not once, but three times (10:16). In what God said, Peter was given a message, to declare to others who were part of the movement that he had been leading since Jesus had ascended into heaven (1:6–14).
That message, “what God has made clean, you must not call profane” (10:15) was, in effect a call to Peter to speak to that movement as a prophet. Prophets were anointed by the spirit to declare “the word of the Lord” for the people of their time (1 Sam 19:20, 23; Isa 11:2; 59:21; 61:1; Ezek 2:2; Joel 2:28–29; Micah 3:8; Zech 7:12, referring to “the former prophets”). Indeed, the servant of the Lord himself is guided by the spirit (Isa 42:1). The Spirit actually calls Peter to go with three men who have come searching for him (10:19–20); they lead him to Caesarea, to the house of Cornelius, where he duly delivers this message (10:24–29).
Subsequently, as he speaks in more details to the assembled household, the Spirit falls on all present, as they listen to Peter’s words (10:44). This coming of the Spirit had happened before, and it will happen again, as the story of Acts continues. But there is something striking and significance about this story of the coming of the spirit.
This has happened before. The spirit has twice filled the messianic community gathered in the Jewish capital, Jerusalem (at Pentecost, 2:1-4, and subsequently, 4:31). When the spirit is poured out on the Gentiles (10:45) in this gentile capital, it is already known that this is an act of God; “God declares, I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams” (2:17).
In both previous cases, God had acted through the spirit in relation to Jews. That this current outpouring of the spirit, outside of Judaea, amongst Gentiles, is still an act of God, is emphasised by a series of narrative comments. The Jewish believers present express surprise at “the gift of the holy spirit” (10:45), but the reader already knows that such a gift is from God (2:38, 8:18).
They hear the Gentiles “speaking in tongues” (10:46), a phenomenon already experienced as a divine event in Jerusalem (2:11). Peter draws this connection when he interprets the event: they “received the spirit as we also [did]” (10:47; see 2:38). Peter and his fellow Jews thus “exulted God” (10:47; see 5:13).
Indeed, the Spirit had come to these Gentiles after a striking sequence of events had taken place. Peter had a vision whilst praying in Joppa, that he was no longer to keep separate at table (10:9–16). No longer were Jews to eat separated from Gentiles. God had declared all foods clean (10:15), so separate table fellowship was now overturned. Peter receives this dramatic change to the status quo—and he faithfully acts on it.
Peter and his companions in Joppa share at table with the men from Cornelius (10:23; 11:4–11) and then, when they have travelled to Caesarea, with the household of Cornelius and those who were baptised with him (10:48; 11:12–18). Indeed, the very point of the vision seen by Peter is to establish an inclusive, all-embracing table fellowship in the Jesus movement, open to both Jews and Gentiles, from this point onwards (11:3).
This is a moment when the old is overturned, and the new is implemented. It is a strong moment of transition for the early church. From this time, the good news spreads amongst Gentiles; to the extent that it does, indeed, reach “to the ends of the earth” (see 1:8) by the end of the book. (In saying this, I take the arrival of Paul into Rome in Ch.28 to be a symbol of the fact that, as the good news becomes known in Rome, the centre of the dominant empire of the day, so that message will then be taken out from the city into all the far-flung reaches of the empire—in a sense, “to the ends of the earth”.)
So the story of Peter and Cornelius, narrated in detail in chapter 10 and then reported in summary to the gathering in Jerusalem in chapter 11, is a key turning point in the overall story being told in Acts. (In my research, I describe Acts 8–12 as “the turn to the Gentiles”, the pivot on which the whole story turns.) it is in this dramatic and pivotal context that Peter speaks the words which are offered by the lectionary for the First Reading on Easter Sunday. This speech is worth attending to in some detail.
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This speech by Peter begins in the characteristic style of previous speeches, by announcing God as its subject (see 2:16–21, 22; 3:13; 4:24; 5:29–30; 7:2; and see subsequently at 13:16–17; 14:15–17; 15:7, 13–17; 17:23–25; and as a summary, 20:24, 27). I have explored this in other blogs at
The key theme of this speech is the impartiality of God (10:34), an important theme, especially in later scriptural writings. “The Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who is not partial and takes no bribe”, Moses declares (Deut 10:17). God is one “who shows no partiality to nobles, nor regards the rich more than the poor—for they are all the work of his hands”, Elihu advises Job (Job 34:19).
Later writings concur: “the Lord of all will not stand in awe of anyone, or show deference to greatness … he takes thought for all alike” (Wisd 6:7), and “do not offer [the Lord] a bribe, for he will not accept it … the Lord is the judge, and with him there is no partiality; he will not show partiality to the poor, but he will listen to the prayer of the one who is wronged; he will not ignore the supplication of the orphan, or the widow when she pours out her complaint” (Sir 35:13–17).
This theme of divine impartiality thus reinforces and confirms the message of the vision (10:11–16). Even though the prescriptions of the levitical holiness code where being adhered to by faithful Jews, the vision speaks over those regulations and invites that who see it and hear God’s words into a new manner of being community. Specifically, that vision validated table-fellowship as being consistent with divine impartiality, a key aspect of God’s nature. Things would be different from now on!
Peter explains that this divine impartiality is especially evident in Jesus, whom he affirms as Lord of all (10:36). Peter interprets the whole life of Jesus as the action of God, who anointed him, was with him, raised him and made him manifest (10:37–43). For Peter, the significance of what Jesus did and said was that he was addressing not only Jews, but also Gentiles.
Peter affirms both the apostolic witness: “we are witnesses to all that he did” (10:39,41; see 2:32, 3:15, 5:32) and also the prophetic witness: “all the prophets testify about him” (10:43; see 2:25-31,33–35, 3:18,21–25, 4:25–26). We see here a rhetorical strategy typical of Luke, who has Peter make the exaggerated claim that “all the prophets testify about him” (10:43; see 3:24). These prophets testify to “the forgiveness of sins” which is essential to this proclamation (2:38, 5:31, 13:38).
Peter continues, that Jesus has been “ordained by God” to be the eschatological “judge of the living and the dead” (10:42), a concept which Paul will later express (17:31; cf. 24:15). The speech thus comprises a consistent exposition of God’s activities in Jesus, extensively in the past as well as (briefly) in the future. When we read what Peter says here, alongside what he says in other evangelistic speeches in Acts (chs. 2, 3, 4, 5, and 13), as well as what Stephen says in his long speech (Ch.7) and what Paul says to Jews (Ch.13) and to Gentiles (chs. 14 and 17), we end up with a most comprehensive statement of the Gospel and how it relates to the ways that God had long been at work in Israel.
The author’s interpretation of the events that have taken place in Caesarea draws them into close relationship with the interpretation of Jesus which Peter has given (here, and in earlier speeches in Acts). That is not surprising, since it is the one person (Luke, the alleged author of this work) who has reported all of these speeches—and, in my opinion, has actually created each speech.
Certainly, the speech itself relates to key features in the surrounding scenes involving Peter, a Jewish man, with the Gentile Cornelius, and his Gentile household. The impartial God who has acted through Jesus (10:34–43) is the same God who declares all things clean (10:15), who shows this to Peter (10:28), who gifts Gentiles by pouring out the spirit (10:45), and who is exulted by the people (10:46). It is language about God which interprets the significance of the narrative at each key moment.
The consequence of this dramatic event is noted briefly: “they invited him to remain for some days” (10:48b). Table-fellowship with Gentiles and the breach of the food rules was considered to be the inevitable result of God’s actions (see also 11:15–18). Such hospitality continues to be one of the key markers of the church today. That is the good news which is declared by the Easter event, when we remember that “God raised Jesus from the dead” and we testify that “everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name”.
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In this blog I have developed themes, ideas, and analysis that I wrote in my commentary on Acts in the Eerdmans Commentary on the Bible, ed. Dunn and Rogerson (Eerdmans, 2003). I have also explored the theme of the plan of God throughout Luke and Acts in the doctoral research that I undertook in the 1980s, which was published in 1993 by Cambridge University Press as The plan of God in Luke-Acts (SNTSM 76).
This coming Sunday is designated as Trinity Sunday. It’s an unusual occurrence, for two reasons. First, it’s the only time in the Christian calendar that a Sunday is named for a doctrine, rather than for a biblical story. And second, it is unusual in that it presents problems for the shapers of the lectionary, since (in my view) the Doctrine of the Trinity is not actually proclaimed in the biblical texts.
Yes, there are passages that canvass some aspects of the Doctrine—how the Son relates to the Father, what is the essential character of God, how the Spirit was experienced and understood, and how Son and Spirit might relate. But there is no biblical passage which articulates the full scope of the Doctrine of the Trinity: God is three, God is one, Father, Son, and Spirit, consubstantial, co-eternal, while unending ages run (as it were).
That’s quite understandable, since the full expression of this Doctrine took a number of centuries to develop, after the period in which the texts of the New Testament were written. If the latest NT text comes from the end of the first century, the earliest form of the Doctrine of the Trinity is found in the Apostles’ Creed, adopted by the Council of Nicea in 325 CE, and a more fulsome and complex form is to be found in the Nicene Creed, adopted by the Council of Constantinople in 381 CE.
So we should not expect the lectionary to provide any texts which set out the Doctrine of the Trinity. What we do find, however, is that certain texts are offered, in which some, or all, of the three persons of the Trinity—Father, Son, and Spirit—are in view.
In fact, two texts name all three persons in a quasi-formulaic way: the benediction at the close of 2 Corinthians 13, and final words of Jesus in Matthew 28. Indeed, these two passages are set for Trinity Sunday in the first of the three years of the lectionary, Year A. Associated with these two passages is a text that expounds something of the nature of one of these persons, God the Creator, in Genesis 1.
In Year B, two texts are offered which focus somewhat on the third person of the Trinity, the Spirit: Romans 8, where Paul wrestles with the role of the Sprit, and John 3, the conversation between Jesus and Nicodemus, which includes reference to the Spirit. The Hebrew Scripture offering in Year C draws from the wonderful depiction of Wisdom in Proverbs 8; while the epistle in Year C, from Romans 5, appears to be included because it manages to refer to each of the three person of the Trinity within the space of five verses.
The Gospel offered in Year C (the current year) is just a short section (John 16:12–15) from the last chapter in the lengthy “farewell discourses” of Jesus (chs. 14–16), which John reports as being given to the disciples at the last meal that Jesus shared with his followers (from 13:1 onwards). It contains the fourth of four brief references in these “farewell discourses” to the Spirit, identified as “the Spirit of truth” (14:17; 15:26; 16:13), the parakletos (14:16, 26; 15:26; 16:7) and “the Holy Spirit” (14:26).
These passages are considered to provide some biblical material for the Doctrine of the Trinity relating specifically to the third person, the Holy Spirit. In particular, I am interested in how the Spirit is defined in relation to the other two persons of the Trinity.
There are three ways in which the Spirit is defined in relation to Jesus. First, the Spirit is identified as a parakletos—a word with multiple translation options. It could mean one who advocates for, one who provides counsel, one who offers help, or one who gives comfort.
Whatever option we take in translating this word, it is striking that Jesus says that the main role of the Spirit (at least as we encounter the explanation in this gospel) is to be “another parakletos” (14:16). The implication is that Jesus himself has been a parakletos—an implication that is confirmed when we read the statement in 1 John, that “we have a parakletos with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous; and he is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world” (1 John 2:1–2).
This first statement about the Spirit thus places the Spirit in the position that Jesus had whilst living in human form amongst the people of Israel. The Spirit is the present manifestation of the role that Jesus of Nazareth had all those centuries ago. The Spirit is, in effect, a “replacement Jesus”.
Indeed, this is strengthened by the affirmation that this figure will “abide with you … and be in you”, precisely the same terminology used of Jesus in the earlier parable of the vine (“abide in me and I abide in you”, 15:4) and in the final prayer that Jesus prays before his arrest (“may [they] be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one”, 17:22–23]). The reality of the presence of the Spirit is the same as the reality of the presence of Jesus when he was with the disciples.
This idea is confirmed by the second statement about the parakletos, who is the one “whom the Father will send in my name” (14:26), the one “whom I will send to you from the Father” (15:26). Indeed, Jesus makes it clear that “if I do not go away, the parakletos will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you” (16:7). This seems to suggest that the Spirit is unable to take up the role assigned to it until Jesus has departed from his followers—the Spirit is a “replacement Jesus”.
Indeed, at an earlier point in the narrative, on “the last day of the festival, the great day” (7:37; the festival referred to was Booths, 7:2), Jesus was speaking about the Spirit, and portraying the “rivers of living water” that the Spirit would give, as something still to come. The narrator informs us that he was speaking “about the Spirit, which believers in him were to receive; for as yet there was no Spirit, because Jesus was not yet glorified” (7:37–39).
This, of course, is directly contradicted by the many references in Hebrew Scripture to the activity of the Spirit in Israel (Gen 1:1–2; Job 33:4; Ps 104:30; Isa 42:5, 44:3, 48:16, 59:21, 61:1, 63:11–14; Num 11:16–17; Deut 34:9; 1 Sam 10:6, 19:23–24; Ezek 37:1; Joel 2:28–29). Nevertheless, the definitive arrangement of things that is held to quite firmly in the book of signs, is that the Spirit comes only after Jesus has returned to the Father.
The language of sending is used frequently in the fourth Gospel, in describing the relationship between the Father and the Son. The Father is regularly described as the one who sent the Son (3:34; 4:34; 5:23, 30; 6:29, 39, 44, 57; 7:16, 18, 28–29, 33; 8:16, 18, 26, 29, 42; etc). In the final prayer of Jesus, the Father is “him who sent me” (17:3, 8, 18, 21, 23, 25). Amongst the final words of the risen Jesus, we hear Jesus say again, “as the Father has sent me” (20:21).
So, when Jesus refers to the parakletos as the one “whom the Father will send in my name” (14:26), he is reinforcing the notion that the Spirit is the “replacement Jesus”. This is further strengthened by the affirmation that the parakletos will “teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you” (14:26). The language of teaching also recalls a key function of Jesus, who “went up into the temple and began to teach” (7:14), who “sat down and began to teach” the people in the temple (8:2), who characterises his ministry as “I have always taught in synagogues and in the temple, where all the Jews come together” (18:20).
Further, Jesus describes the role of the parakletos as “he will take what is mine and declare it to you” (16:15). Jesus has already declared that “my teaching is not mine but his who sent me” (7:16) and “the word that you hear is not mine, but is from the Father who sent me” (14:24); now he passes that divinely-given material on to the parakletos, clearly stating that “he will take what is mine and declare it to you. All that the Father has is mine. For this reason I said that he will take what is mine and declare it to you” (16:14–15). The teaching function that the parakletos performs is to replicate the teaching role that Jesus has already enacted.
The content of the teaching provided by the parakletos is also evocative of the teaching that Jesus has provided. The parakletos will teach “about sin and righteousness and judgment” (16:8, expanded in 16:9–11). In relation to sin, what Jesus does as “the lamb of God” is to “take away the sin of the world” (1:29); he provides freedom from the slavery of sin (8:34–36), and the final commission that he gives his disciples (who are sent just as he has been sent) is to decree that they have the authority of grant forgiveness of sins (20:23).
Likewise, in relation to judgement, Jesus has stated, “as I hear, I judge; and my judgment is just, because I seek to do not my own will but the will of him who sent me” (5:30), and again, “even if I do judge, my judgment is valid; for it is not I alone who judge, but I and the Father who sent me” (8:16)—although later, Jesus asserts that “I came not to judge the world, but to save the world. The one who rejects me and does not receive my word has a judge; on the last day the word that I have spoken will serve as judge” (12:47–48).
Thus, as the parakletos teaches about sin, and about judgement, the teachings of Jesus on these matters are repeated. (On the matter of righteousness—apart from a single reference to God as “righteous Father”, 17:25—this Gospel is silent.) Again, we see that the parakletos is a “replacement Jesus”.
Finally, the distinctive term used in this Gospel to describe the Spirit, “the Spirit of truth”, also reinforces this way of viewing the relationship between the Son and the Spirit. The Johannine Jesus is “the Word became flesh” who “lived among us … full of grace and truth” (1:14). It is through Jesus Christ that “grace and truth came” (1:17). Jesus describes himself to the leaders in Jerusalem as “a man who has told you the truth that I heard from God” (8:40), and to the Roman Governor, Pilate, he declares, “for this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice” (18:37).
So Jesus tells his followers that “if you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples; and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free” (8:31–32), and even affirms unreservedly that “I am the truth” (14:6). Again, the language applied to the Spirit links in with key terminology that describes Jesus and his role. The Spirit of truth now teaches “the truth that will make you free”, that the one who is the truth had taught.
Finally, it is noteworthy that nowhere in the book of signs is there any direct statement about the relationship between Father and Sprit. Although Jesus states that “God is spirit” (4:24), the relationship is always, apparently, mediated through the Son: the Father sends the Son, the Son sends the parakletos; the Son teaches what the Father provides, the parakletos continues the teaching of Jesus; the Father incarnates the Word “in truth”, the Son teaches and is “the truth”, so the Spirit is named as “the Spirit of truth”.
In summary, the relationship between Son and Spirit reads to me as a quite hierarchical style of relationship—not at all a relationship of equals who abide in each other, who are of the same nature and share the same substance with one another, who exist co-eternally and inherit co-equally. Indeed, in the relationship between Father and Spirit/Parakletos, there is no direct link, as there is in the classic Doctrine of the Trinity; all is mediated through the Son, as we have seen. The fourth Gospel offers a different, distinctive—we might even say, unorthodox—theology of Father, Son, and Spirit/Parakletos.
The Trinity is a complex idea, a doctrine with many subsets and dimensions and component parts. Although there are passages in scripture which many say point to this doctrine, nevertheless gaining a full understanding of this doctrine really means entering into the world of metaphysics, philosophy, and linguistics of a later age.
All of this is beyond the capacity of the lectionary to provide, nor can it be done in a relatively brief reflection time within a Sunday worship service—and it runs the risk of charging away from the world of ideas in which the biblical texts were written, and opening up the danger of imposing later ideas, anachronistically, onto those texts.
The little passage from the Gospel of John that we encounter in the lectionary this coming Sunday actually points us in quite another direction!
This coming Sunday, we hear a story about a meeting that takes place in Jerusalem (Acts 11:1–18). In my view, what takes place in this meeting should be called the First Jerusalem Council. Quite often, the event recounted in the narrative of Acts 15 is identified as the first council of the church in Jerusalem. But in my mind, it is this gathering in Acts 11 that should have the title.
The council is necessary because of doubts raised in Jerusalem about Peter’s activities in Caesarea—specifically, that “the Gentiles received the word of God” (11:1). During this gathering, an accusation against Peter is raised from within the assembly for the first time. The meeting comes to a point of view that supports the radical action that Peter has taken. It is a watershed moment in the life of the early church, that confirms the place of the Gentiles alongside the Jews.
An apology. Those of the circumcision are critical of what Peter has done (11:3). In reply, Peter’s speech in Jerusalem (11:4-17) has the nature of an apology—a defence of the faith—although Luke refrains from employing the technical term (apologia) until the apologetic speeches that he includes in hellenistic settings, where Paul makes his later defence speeches.
In the last section of Acts, after his arrest in the Jerusalem Temple (21:23), Paul delivers a series of apologies: to the tribune and a large crowd in Jerusalem (Acts 22); before the High Priest Ananias, his lawyer, Tertullus, and Governor Felix, in Caesarea (Acts 24); and then two years later, still in Caesarea, before King Agrippa, his consort, Bernice, and the Roman Governor, Festus (Acts 26).
The rhetorical forms used in apologetics were designed to meet a criticism with a strong counter-argument that would win the day. The form was developed amongst Jews in the hellenistic period—that is, after the troops of Alexander the Great had taken control of Israel in the year 333 BCE.
It was used to good effect by Jews such as the historians Artapanus, Aristobulus, and Josephus; ethical writers whose work survives in Pseudo-Phocylides, the Sybilline Oracles, and the Wisdom of Solomon; and the philosopher and exegete Philo of Alexandria. Such individuals were concerned about the influence that Hellenism was having on the forms and beliefs of their faith. They wrote apologies which provided a defence of their faith in the face of these various hellenistic influences.
So Peter here offers an apologetic speech, setting out his defence in response to criticism concerning his breach of the food rules (11:2). The criticism comes from those of the circumcision (11:2); the use of the same phrase by Paul at Gal 2:9 suggests that it is James who is behind the criticism. Such criticism requires an explanation “in order” (11:4; NRSV “step by step”), in line with the overall Lukan programme (Luke 1:3).
An explanation. Accordingly, Luke has Peter explain events in order by turning first of all to the vision he saw in Joppa, and recounting it almost verbatim (11:5-10; cf. 10:9-16). This repeated account retains the essential elements. The detailed description of the vision of the animals, reptiles and birds is repeated (11:5-6, par 10:11-12); a reference to “beasts of prey” is added at 11:6.
The command to “kill and eat” (11:7) parallels 10:13. Peter’s objection on the basis of the food laws (11:8, par 10:14) is modified so as to emphasise the food law requirements, placing them first in his response.
The insistence that he must accept “what God has cleansed” (11:9, par 10:15), and the note that this happened three times before being “drawn up again into heaven” (11:10, par 10:16) are then repeated exactly. This full repetition but slightly changed order highlights Peter’s vision as the primary one; by contrast, he truncates his reports of the visit of Cornelius’ messengers (11:11-12; cf. 10:17-29) and the vision to Cornelius (11:13; cf. 10:1-8), as well as his own speech in Caesarea (11:14; cf. 10:34-43) and the subsequent giving of the holy spirit (11:15; cf. 10:44-48).
The Spirit. Yet Peter’s speech is not simply a shortened summary of what Luke has already reported in Acts 10, for it offers an interpretation of these events which stresses that they took place under divine initiative. In reporting the arrival of messengers from Cornelius (11:11-12), Peter notes simply that “the spirit said to me to go with them without criticism” (11:12; cf. 10:19-20). His omission of many details (character traits, travel details, conversation and personnel; even, surprisingly, the name of Cornelius) places the focus on the role of the spirit.
Cornelius remains anonymous when Peter reports the vision he saw in similar fashion, with a stark summary of what the angel had told him (11:13). The substance of Peter’s speech in Caesarea is summarised as “words by which you and your household will be saved” (11:14); rather than the content of the speech, the emphasis here is on the fact that Peter was given these words to speak by the angel.
Peter’s version of the outpouring of the holy spirit is short on factual reporting, as it were; he simply states that the spirit fell on them (11:15). His report abounds in interpretation of the significance of the event, however. The earlier narrative of this event has already noted that the spirit was given as a gift (10:45); Peter now reinforces the divine source of this gift as that which God gave them (11:17; see 10:45).
This gift fulfils the prophetic word of Jesus, that “John baptised with water, but you will be baptised with holy spirit” (11:16, quoting 1:5; cf. the similar, but longer, saying of John at Luke 3:16). Twice Peter parallels this act of the spirit on “them” (Gentiles) with the events that happened to “us” (Jews) at Pentecost, when he notes that the spirit “fell on them just as on us at the beginning” (11:15), and when he states that “God gave them the same gift that he gave us who believe” (11:17).
The place of God. The motif of necessity concludes Peter’s speech, with the rhetorical question, “who was I that I could hinder God?” (11:17). Such a question is a reminder of Peter’s unquestioning and faithful attitude expressed at 4:19-20 and 5:29.
Peter thus validates the events in Caesarea through his use of language about God. The turn to the Gentiles is authorised by God working through an angel and the holy spirit, as well as by the inexorability of Peter’s response to God.
This understanding (which is entirely Lukan) is further reinforced by the concluding summary (11:18) which follows, in which language about God defines the significance of what has taken place.
Peter’s audience have moved from criticism (11:2) to silence, before they now “glorify God” (11:18), a believing response seen already in Jerusalem (4:21). Glorifying God will recur later in Antioch (13:48) and Jerusalem (21:20); it has appeared often in Luke’s Gospel, as a response to Jesus (Luke 2:20, 4:15, 5:25-26, 7:16, 13;13, 17:15, 18:43, 23:47). The words of the audience concisely express Luke’s understanding of the occasion: “Surely God gave repentance to life even to the Gentiles” (11:18).
God’s prominent role, as the one who sent the angel, gave the gift of the spirit, and enabled the Gentiles to repent, validates what has taken place. An inclusive community has been established; this will provide a key model for preaching in the Dispersion, and for the nature of the church in the decades—and centuries—to come.
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This blog is based on a section of my commentary on Acts in the Eerdmans Commentary on the Bible, ed. Dunn and Rogerson (Eerdmans, 2003). I have also explored the theme of the plan of God at greater depth in my doctoral research, which was published in 1993 by Cambridge University Press as The plan of God in Luke-Acts (SNTSM 76).
In this story, when Jesus reads in the synagogue in Nazareth, he quotes a scripture passage which begins with a reference to the holy spirit. The understanding of the spirit as an agent for divine guidance of human beings, as found in this passage early in the orderly account of Luke’s Gospel, is the same understanding which is found right throughout the books of the Hebrew Scriptures. The follow list summarises the key points concerning the spirit in these writings.
First, the spirit is active in the creation of the world (Gen 1:1–2; Job 33:4; Ps 104:30; Isa 42:5). Then, the spirit guides selected leaders within Israel, such as Moses (Num 11:16–17); Joshua (Deut 34:9); Othniel (Judg 3:10); Gideon (Judg 6:34); and David (1 Sam 16:17).
Further, it is the spirit which inspires prophecy (1 Sam 10:6, 19:23–24; Ezek 37:1; Joel 2:28–29; Mic 3:8), enables the interpretation of dreams by Joseph (Gen 41:38) and Daniel (Dan 4:8,18, 5:1), and gives other specific gifts to Israel (Num 11:25; Deut 34:9; Dan 4:8–18; Prov 1:23).
The qualities of the spirit will characterise the coming Messianic figure envisaged by the prophet Isaiah (Isa 11:2–5). This idea is taken up later in Isaiah in descriptions of the Servant (Isa 42:1–4; 61:1–7). In second Isaiah the spirit is promised as a gift to the people who are led by the Servant (Isa 42:5; 44:3; 48:16; 59:21). Third Isaiah recalls the time of Moses as a period when the spirit was given to Israel (Isa 63:11–14).
Jesus appropriates the passage from Isaiah 61 for himself in the claim “today this scripture has been fulfilled” (Luke 4:21). In so doing, he asserts that this spirit has now rested upon him, as the one anointed by the Lord. The previous chapters of Luke’s narrative have already established this point; the spirit has rested upon the adult Jesus at his baptism (3:21) and led him into the wilderness to be tempted (4:1).
Jesus returns to Galilee to begin his preaching “filled with the power of the spirit” (4:14). Indeed, even as an infant, the spirit is seen to be at work in Jesus (1:35, in his conception; 2:25– 34, in Simeon’s prophecy about the future role of Jesus). Thus, the reading of this scripture citation in the synagogue in Nazareth—“the Spirit of the Lord is upon me”—and the claim that it is now fulfilled in him, together confirm the Lukan claims about Jesus by undergirding them with scriptural validation.
Further references to the spirit in the life of Jesus are few (as he prays, 10:21; in his sayings, 11:13; 12:10–12; at his death, 23:46). Yet the principle that the spirit guides Jesus has been established beyond doubt in Luke 1–4 and stands as the keynote for understanding the activities of Jesus which will follow, and indeed for understanding the activities of the early church also.
In the second volume of this orderly account, the Acts of the Apostles, the presence of the spirit is widespread and consistent throughout the early church. The church is motivated for mission by the outpouring of the spirit (Acts 2:4, 17–18, 33). Specific leaders within the early church are said to be “filled with the spirit”: Peter (4:8), Stephen (6:3, 5; 7:55), Paul (9:17; 13:9), Barnabas (11:24). The spirit inspires Agabus to prophesy (11:28) and probably also guides the preaching of Apollos (18:25).
Indeed, in the early period, the whole community in Jerusalem is filled with the spirit (4:31); subsequently, the spirit falls on the Gentile believers in Caesarea (10:44–45; 11:15–16). The spirit guides Philip to travel with the Ethiopian eunuch (8:29, 39). The Spirit guides Peter to meet the men sent by Cornelius and travel with them to Caesarea (10:19; 11:12).
The Spirit guides Barnabas and Paul to Seleucia and onwards (13:2) and later guides Paul away from Asia Minor, towards Macedonia (16:6–7). Paul’s final visit to Jerusalem and his subsequent arrest there are also guided by the spirit (20:22–23; 21:11).
What does the spirit equip Jesus to do? The citation from Isaiah 61 identifies four activities: “good news to the poor…release to the captives…recovery of sight to the blind…freedom for the oppressed”, all summarised in the phrase “to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour” (Luke 4:18–19). The holistic nature of these deeds characterises the activities of Jesus in subsequent chapters of the Gospel.
Jesus proclaims the good news (4:43; 8:1; 16:16; 20:1) and releases people bound in the captivity of demon possession (4:31–37; 8:2, 26–39; 9:37–43; 11:14–26; 13:32). He heals not only those unable to see (18:35–43) but also those with physical disabilities (5:17–26; 6:6–10; 14:1– 4), lepers (5:12–12; 17:11–19) and a number of women with specific ailments (4:38–39; 8:43–48; 13:11–13). He even raises one person from the dead (7:11–17).
When John the baptiser sends messengers to ask of Jesus, “are you the one who is to come?” (7:19), in his reply Jesus refers to precisely these kinds of deeds: “the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, the poor have good news brought to them” (7:22). This answer draws on Isaianic descriptions of the restorative deeds of the Lord (Isa 29:18–19; 35:5–6; 61:1).
In Luke’s second volume, the Acts of the Apostles, the early church is characterised by the ability to perform similar signs and wonders (Acts 2:43) alongside of their public proclamation of the good news (5:42). The apostles perform healings in Jerusalem (3:1–10; 4:22, 30; 5:12) and interpret these as being God’s actions.
Through the spirit, Stephen is able to perform signs and wonders (6:3, 8). Philip both heals and exorcises (8:6) and preaches the good news (8:4, 12, 25, 40). Peter heals in Lydda (9:32–25) and raises the dead Joppa (9:26–43). Barnabas and Paul perform signs and wonders as they travel throughout Asia Minor (14:3, 8–10; 15:12) and proclaim the good news (14:7, 15, 21; 15:35).
Alongside his public speaking, Paul continues his miraculous activity in Ephesus (19:11–12), Troas (20:7–12) and Malta (28:6–10). The spirit enables Paul to oppose the magician Elymas on Cyprus (13:4–12) and to cast out demons in Ephesus (19:13–20).
So we see that the presence of the spirit within the early church continues the holistic ministry which was seen in the life of Jesus, through proclamation, healings, and exorcisms. The scriptural citation in Luke 4:18–19 thus provides a declaration of a major theme running throughout both of Luke’s volumes.
Pentecost is about the Spirit. That is the focus in the Christian Church, where this festival day provides the most concentrated occasion for celebrating the work of the Holy Spirit. However, often this focus on the spirit leads people to think that this was the first appearance of the spirit—on the day of Pentecost, the beginning of the church.
And let us not forget that Pentecost itself was already a well-established Jewish festival day, for the Feast of Weeks, or the Feast of Ingathering (Exod 23:16). Provisions for this festival are set out in Leviticus 23:15-22, Numbers 28:26-31, and Deuteronomy 16:9-12. The name Pentecost (meaning the fiftieth day) is used at Tobit 2:1 and 2 Maccabees 12:32, two books included in the Old Testament in the Roman Catholic Deuteroncanonical books.
The spirit was not a new entity arriving for the first time on the first day of Pentecost. The spirit had been active throughout the life of the people of Israel. In fact, the spirit is mentioned very early in Hebrew Scripture, in the opening verses. The Priestly writer attributed the spirit with a key role in creation. The story of creation which opens the scriptures of the Hebrew people affirms that creation took place when “the spirit moved over the face of the waters” (Gen 1:1-2; see also Job 33:4).
Later, the Psalmist envisioned the spirit as playing an eschatological role at the end of time (Ps 104:30). The spirit bookends history, as understood in the biblical texts, being noted both at the very beginning and at the very end. So, the spirit joins with “the bride” (that is, Jesus), to utter the closing invitation at the end of the scriptures of the Christians: “the spirit and the bride say, ‘Come’ … let everyone who is thirsty, come; let anyone who wishes take the water of life as a gift” (Rev 22:17).
The spirit was an important element in the ancient Jewish worldview. Moses and the elders whom he appointed as judges were filled with the spirit (Num 11:25), and subsequently the spirit was given to Joshua (Deut 34:9). Various prophets were anointed by the Spirit to declare “the word of the Lord” for the people of their time; the former prophets (Zech 7:12); the prophets Micah (Micah 3:8) and Zechariah (Zec 4:6); the prophet Ezekiel (Ezek 2:2, 3:24, 11:1, 36:26-27, 37:1, 14); and the later prophet speaking in the name of Isaiah (Isa 61:1-3), who most famously declares “the spirit of the Lord is upon me”.
The promise is given that the spirit will rest upon the future Davidic leader (Isa 11:2-5), the servant whom God has chosen (Isa 42:1), and still later, on Daniel (Dan 4:8-18). Wisdom promises to give the spirit to those who listen to her (Prov 1:23) and Joel prophesies that the spirit will be poured out on “all flesh … your sons and your daughters … your old men … and your young men … even on the male and female servants” (Joel 2:28-29).
In a time of difficulty, Isaiah declares that the spirit will be poured out on the people of Israel, to turn their wilderness into a fruitful field (Isa 32:15, 44:3). So the promise that God makes through the prophets is striking: “my spirit abides among you; do not fear” (Haggai 2:5); and “my spirit that is upon you, and my words that I have put in your mouth, shall not depart out of your mouth, or out of the mouths of your children, or out of the mouths of your children’s children, says the Lord, from now on and forever” (Isa 59:21).
The spirit was an important element in the ancient Jewish worldview. In the process of creating “the heavens and the earth”, God “gives breath to the people upon [the earth] and spirit to those who walk in it” (Isa 42:5). All human beings are created with the spirit of God within us (Gen 1:20, 21, 24, 30, 2:7). Job affirms this belief unreservedly and extends it to all creatures, not just human beings: “in [God’s] hand is the life of every living thing, and the breath of every human being” (Job 12:7-10).
That is an incredibly important affirmation for human beings to make. Perhaps the sense of this divine in-breathing has led humans to reinforce our sense of human beings as being at the pinnacle of the order of animals, birds, and fish. However, we need to remember that we share this creative force with all of them; we sit on the spectrum of existence alongside all of them, each of us equally God-breathed at our conception.
Certainly, our human identity is grounded in the creative work of God’s spirit. Who we are is how God has made us to be—each human being is made in God’s image (Gen 1:27; Sir 17:3). The breath we breathe is an expression of the divine spirit implanted within us at creation. These words also provide every human being with an affirmation of each of us as exactly who we are, however we identify within the spectrum of LGBTIQA+ identities, for instance. We are as we are, just as God made us and intended us to be. We can each rejoice in our unique individual identity.
The same goes when we consider ethnicity. The Black Lives Matter movement has reminded us that we need to especially value the lives of people who have experienced intense persecution, marginalisation, and oppression, over many centuries. The colour of a person’s skin and the cultural patterns of their ethnicity do not diminish their worth. God has made each of us just as we are, and we can celebrate that fact.
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When the story is told of the spirit coming on the Day of Pentecost (Acts 2:1-4), any Jew who had listened carefully to the stories in their scriptures would have known that “the coming of the spirit” had happened before, and that it would happen again, as the story of Acts continues. This is not the first manifestation of the spirit; nor would it be the last. The spirit of Hebrew scriptures continues as a dynamic force at work amongst the earliest followers of Jesus.
Yet, there is something striking and significance about this Pentecost story of the coming of the spirit. This spirit has already twice filled the messianic community gathered in the Jewish capital, Jerusalem. The first occasion is the best-known of all the times that the spirit came: on the day of Pentecost (2:1-4), and subsequently (4:31). The spirit gifts people with the capacity to hear and understand across the barriers of human language (2:5-13), enabling the followers of Jesus to speak with unfettered boldness (4:31).
Later, it was the spirit who had been gifted to believers in Samaria (8:17), and then the spirit who took Philip from Samaria to Caesarea (8:40). This latter city, of course, is where Peter preaches and the Spirit moves amongst Gentiles (10:44-48; 11:15-18). When the spirit is poured out on the Gentiles in Caesarea, the gentile capital (10:45), it is clear that this is an act of God (2:17; 11:15-18).
Caesarea is a pivotal location in the overarching story of Acts. This is where God provokes the leadership of this movement to reach out and encompass new people, different people, into the community of faith. The sequence of events narrated in Acts 10:1-48 (and immediately reported to the believers in Jerusalem, 11:1-18) is replete with many important consequences for this fledgling movement.
Being filled with the spirit, or having the spirit poured out, to enable particular activities, had been a regular biblical refrain in the stories of the Hebrews. That emphasis comes to the fore, particularly, in the two-volume narrative that Luke constructs. He signals the strategic role of the spirit in the lives of Jesus (Luke 4:1) and John the baptiser (Luke 1:15), as well as of John’s parents (Elizabeth, Luke 1:41; Zechariah, Luke 1:67).
The traditional hopes and expectations of the people are articulated in spirit-inspired hymns sung by Mary (1:46–55, known as the Magnificat), Zechariah (1:67–79, known as the Benedictus), and Simeon the righteous (2:29–32, known as the Nunc dimittis, or the Song of Simeon). Mary is “overshadowed” by the Spirit (1:35), Zechariah and Elizabeth are both “filled” with the Spirit (1:41, 1:67). Simeon is “righteous and devout” (2:25); the Spirit “rested on him” (2:25), then “revealed to him” the words he then speaks (2:26) before “guiding him … into the temple” (2:27).
The words of Anna, although unreported in detail by Luke (2:38), are likewise spirit-inspired (as are all prophetic utterances). The children who are born—Jesus and John—bear the weight of these traditional hopes and expectations as they come into being. They, too, are “filled with the Spirit” (John, 1:15; Jesus, 4:1, 14). This is the same Spirit which, according to old traditions in the Hebrew Scriptures, has been active since the time of creation (Gen 1:2) and which is still at work in the creation of every living creature (Ps 104:30).
The giving of the spirit at Pentecost thus stands in continuity with God’s actions in Israel; it also prefigures the state of many individuals later in the narrative of Acts. Peter is the first individual who is so filled (4:8); after him will come Stephen (6:3,5; 7:55), Saul (9:17; 13:9) and Barnabas (11:24).(4:8; 6:3,5; 7:55; 9:17; 11:24; 13:9; and cf. 18:25). Indeed, all the members of this community in Jerusalem were “filled with the spirit” (4:31). That comment, along with the Pentecost narrative (2:1-4), signals that the spirit is to be an integral factor in leadership of this messianic movement of followers of Jesus.
Being “filled with the Spirit” is then referenced in a number of the letters attributed to Paul that are collated in the New Testament: Rom 5:5; 1 Cor 2:9-13, 12:1-13; Gal 4:6, 5:22-26; 1 Thess 1:5; Eph 5:18. The anonymous author of Hebrews indicates that the spirit has distributed gifts to those who follow the way of Jesus (Heb 2:1-4). “Life in the spirit” receives detailed attention for Paul (Rom 8:1-17) and his discussion of “all creation groaning” along with the groaning of the spirit (Rom 8:18-27) is a crucial passage.
So the celebration of the coming of the spirit on the Day of Pentecost is indeed a “filling up to overflowing” of the promises of God, coming to expression as fulfilment of ancient hopes. (That is my translation of the single Greek word in Acts 2:1, sumplerousthai, which the NRSV rather lamely renders as “when the day had come”. It needs to convey the sense of rich, deep fulfilment, coming to pass in this narrative.)
The same Spirit which has been active since the time of creation (Gen 1:2), been active throughout the stories recounted about the people of Israel, and which is still at work in the creation of every living creature (Ps 104:30), continues to enliven and enrich the lives of the faithful people of God.