At the feet of the apostles ... (Acts 4:32-37)
The modern Christian may have an ambivalent reaction to this passage. On the one hand, we are attracted by the idyllic image of the first generation of Jesus' followers being "of one heart and soul," sharing their possessions with each generously in a communitarian fashion (Acts 4:32). Through true Christian love, none were in want (v. 34). Indeed, this kind of Christianity (untainted by the waining of fervor yet to come), read in this way, seems to promise a real solution to the world's problems: no conflict, no hunger, no inequity. "Christianity has never been tried," or, it was once, at the very beginning, but then the cynical march of time showed it to be but a fleeting spark... "If only," we are tempted to lament, comfortable in the inevitable self-indictment that rests on the premise that we have failed to be like the first Christians because, after all, real Christianity is a beautiful but impractical dream. Even St. Francis of Assisi could not guarantee for his order that the original simplicity of Lady Poverty call would be preserved in wholeness and simplicity. And if he couldn't succeed, well then...
Then comes a passage that makes us quietly uneasy: landowners, property holders, the well-to-do, sell some of what they own, and bring "the money and [lay] it at the apostles' feet" (vv. 34-37). This is indeed noble and generous, we admit, and follows of course on the beautiful harmony described in the first part of the passage, and that is well and good, but let us focus rather on the "one heart and soul" of those who "had everything in common" (v. 32). After all, money causes problems, and we don't like to hear money talked about in church, and here are the apostles taking money. And didn't Judas have something to do with money? Not to mention the preachers who ask for it, the pastors who ask for it, the missions who ask for it, the church who asks for it?
If we read this passage from such admittedly understandable perspectives, we miss what may be the key to the "third way" of reading. Notice where the money was brought and set down: our passage not once, but twice (vv. 35 and 37) tells us that it was "at the feet of the apostles." But what do we know of those feet? If the image of money laid down at the feet of religious leaders makes us uncomfortable, what image of their feet made the apostles' uncomfortable? What--or who--had not many months before knelt at their feet, feet covered in dust and grime, feet calloused and toughened by the boat's deck, the rope of the nets, the weariness of the wandering road? None other than the one who had poured water, and with His own hands washed those feet, that night when He had so much else to think about, so much terrified anticipation of what was to happen the next day. None other than the one who had dried those feet, and declared the act a supreme example of what it means to love, and what we must do if we claim to love.
These are the feet, then, feet bathed by Jesus, that receive the gifts of Christians. What is our property, our land, that we may sell? Could it be our claim to self? Our primal craving to control our circumstances, our likes and dislikes, our relationships with others, our fears, our health and sickness? But imagine: if we surrender these, "sell" these (for selling is after all parting with something)--all, a few, or just one--what are the "proceeds," the "price," the "money" we receive? Simply, a free (or at least freer) heart. A heart that relinquishes its narrow demands on self and others. A heart that is still limited, since it is a human heart, but that can now begin to grow as a vessel into which the waters of the Holy Spirit flow. A heart that drinks the new wine of God's kingdom, a wine that fills the heart with the Precious Blood that courses through the Heart of the universe's king. This then, is the price, the profit, the joy that we are able to bring to the apostle's feet, feet bathed once and forever that our souls may ever cry with Peter, "Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!" (Jn 13:9)
Then comes a passage that makes us quietly uneasy: landowners, property holders, the well-to-do, sell some of what they own, and bring "the money and [lay] it at the apostles' feet" (vv. 34-37). This is indeed noble and generous, we admit, and follows of course on the beautiful harmony described in the first part of the passage, and that is well and good, but let us focus rather on the "one heart and soul" of those who "had everything in common" (v. 32). After all, money causes problems, and we don't like to hear money talked about in church, and here are the apostles taking money. And didn't Judas have something to do with money? Not to mention the preachers who ask for it, the pastors who ask for it, the missions who ask for it, the church who asks for it?
If we read this passage from such admittedly understandable perspectives, we miss what may be the key to the "third way" of reading. Notice where the money was brought and set down: our passage not once, but twice (vv. 35 and 37) tells us that it was "at the feet of the apostles." But what do we know of those feet? If the image of money laid down at the feet of religious leaders makes us uncomfortable, what image of their feet made the apostles' uncomfortable? What--or who--had not many months before knelt at their feet, feet covered in dust and grime, feet calloused and toughened by the boat's deck, the rope of the nets, the weariness of the wandering road? None other than the one who had poured water, and with His own hands washed those feet, that night when He had so much else to think about, so much terrified anticipation of what was to happen the next day. None other than the one who had dried those feet, and declared the act a supreme example of what it means to love, and what we must do if we claim to love.
These are the feet, then, feet bathed by Jesus, that receive the gifts of Christians. What is our property, our land, that we may sell? Could it be our claim to self? Our primal craving to control our circumstances, our likes and dislikes, our relationships with others, our fears, our health and sickness? But imagine: if we surrender these, "sell" these (for selling is after all parting with something)--all, a few, or just one--what are the "proceeds," the "price," the "money" we receive? Simply, a free (or at least freer) heart. A heart that relinquishes its narrow demands on self and others. A heart that is still limited, since it is a human heart, but that can now begin to grow as a vessel into which the waters of the Holy Spirit flow. A heart that drinks the new wine of God's kingdom, a wine that fills the heart with the Precious Blood that courses through the Heart of the universe's king. This then, is the price, the profit, the joy that we are able to bring to the apostle's feet, feet bathed once and forever that our souls may ever cry with Peter, "Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!" (Jn 13:9)
posted by JRM at 11:32 PM
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