August 5, 2018 “Insane” – Acts 26

Acts 26
“Insane”
August 5, 2018 – Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost

Seneca was a Roman philosopher contemporary to Paul. He was advisor to the emperor Nero. It may be in light of working with that mad ruler that he attributed this saying to Aristotle, “No excellent soul is exempt from a mixture of madness” or “no great genius has ever been without a touch of insanity.” Of course, Nero was more than a touch insane, which his followers may have thought only demonstrated his genius. But that mixture of madness and genius was a common idea in the ancient world. Festus believed it.

With Paul still in prison in Caesarea, the Jewish king, Herod Agrippa II, came to visit Festus. So the Roman decided to consult a Jew concerning a Jew. Paul was brought before Festus and Agrippa. But in verse 24, in the middle of Paul’s defense, Festus broke in shouting “You are out of your mind, Paul! Too much learning is driving you insane!”

Any college student in finals week might agree with Festus. Too much learning will drive you nuts. But the word Paul used for “insane” was mania, from which we get “maniac.” In the ancient world it was also used for “inspiration,” the kind of insanity which grips people of creativity or genius.

Vincent Van Gogh at the height of his art cut off his ear and landed in an asylum. Friedrich Nietzsche was a world famous philosopher when he was found out of his mind in the street, with his arms wrapped around the neck of horse. Tom Morris writes that it was the first time both ends of a horse got together. John Stuart Mill learned Greek at the age of 3 and as a teenager completed advanced studies in literature, philosophy, chemistry, botany, psychology, and law. At age 20 he had a mental breakdown. In the film “A Beautiful Mind,” mathematician John Nash received the Nobel Prize in economics even while struggling with schizophrenia.

Insanity or inspiration? The line between seems fine. Today, before a person is judged mentally ill enough to be committed, a two-part question is asked. “Is she is a danger to herself or others?” As we’ve learned the last few weeks, Paul’s enemies kept trying to accuse him of being a danger to others. He seemed to stir up riots wherever he went. They made him out to be a religious terrorist.

Maybe Paul was a danger to himself. In Acts 21, he disregarded sober warnings about traveling to Jerusalem, where people wanted to kill him. When arrested, he asked to confront a lynch mob. Tried by Festus’ predecessor, Felix, Paul could have been free by paying a bribe, but would not do it. Last week, Paul appealed to Caesar. As we read in verse 26, but for that he might have gone free. Paul kept harming himself like somebody truly insane.

To enlightened men of the world like Governor Festus and King Agrippa, Paul was mad. Yet Antonin Artaud, writing of Van Gogh, tells us, “There is in every madman a misunderstood genius.” Paul’s madness was a kind of genius, a genius for accomplishing the mission God had given him.

Way back in chapter 19 verse 21 Paul said that he had a mission to Rome. In Acts 23:11 we read that the Lord appeared to Paul in his jail cell and confirmed that mission. The sensible thing to do would have been to get himself released, find a ship sailing west, and get on with the mission. But Paul had some of the insane genius about him.

By letting himself be arrested, by refusing to say or do anything to get himself released, by defending himself in a way that insured he would stay in prison, Paul wrote himself a different ticket to Rome. He forced his enemies to take him there. If he planned it, it was a wild and crazy plan. And it worked. As we will hear next week, at the beginning of chapter 27, Paul was put on a ship of prisoners headed for the capital of the empire.

Festus did not think Paul was insane just because he was a danger to himself. He thought what Paul believed was just plain nuts. Here in chapter 26 is the third time that Paul tells the story of his conversion, explaining to King Agrippa how he met Jesus in a blinding light on the road to Damascus. Starting in verse 19 he told the king how he preached about Jesus everywhere he went. But then Festus interrupted to call him insane.

I always thought that what provoked Festus’ outburst was what Paul said in the beginning of verse 24, that the Messiah, the Christ had to suffer and then rise from the dead. It seemed to me clear that to a sophisticated Roman politician it was resurrection from the dead that sounded insane. But the New Interpreter’s Bible Commentary on Acts changed my mind.

What does Paul say at end of verse 24, right before Festus jumps in to pronounce Paul out of his mind. It’s not the raising of Jesus. That comes just before. It’s that, having been risen, Jesus “would proclaim light both to our people and to the Gentiles.” Festus is not put off by a story of some Jewish man rising from the dead. There were plenty of odd religions and weird stories among the different peoples of the Roman empire. No, what got to Festus was the suggestion that a supposedly resurrected Jew had anything to do with Gentiles, had anything to say anyone but Jews, had something to say to Festus himself.

That seems exactly right to me. We constantly run into the same incredulity today. Sophisticated people’s tolerance for a wide variety of religions today is much like it was in Roman times. Go ahead and believe any crazy god story you like. That’s just fine. What’s not fine is trying to apply it to anyone else, thinking that your religion’s God or morality is the truth for other people. That’s where both ancient and modern tolerance draw the line and brand a believer like Paul as insane.

I’d be interested to hear from you later. Does that ring a bell with you? Don’t you find that non-Christians around you are quite willing to let you have your faith, as long as you don’t try to place it on them? They will say things like, “That’s fine for you,” or even, “That’s true for you, but don’t expect me to believe it too. If you think your Jesus has anything to do with me and my life, then you are a fanatic. You’re just crazy.”

Our response to that sort of thing should be the same as Paul’s in verse 25, “I am not out of my mind… The things I am saying to you are true and reasonable.” Note, though, what Paul sandwiches in there, the polite words, “most noble Festus.” In the debate, Paul remained respectful and courteous. That’s another good lesson for modern Christians talking to non-believers.

Paul turned back toward Agrippa in verse 26, asking him to support the reasonableness of what he said, saying “the king knows about these things.” As king over Palestine, Agrippa would have heard of Jesus of Nazareth and the account of His resurrection. Paul said he was certain that it would not have escaped the king’s notice, “for this was not done in a corner.” Paul invited these men to investigate for themselves, to take note of reports about Jesus and about Christianity that were available for anyone who paid attention.

Once again, there’s a good strategy for talking to others about our faith. “Come take a look. Investigate it for yourself. Read the Bible. Look at the history. Consider what Jesus said and did and come to your own conclusions.” That’s what Paul was saying in verse 27 when he asked, “King Agrippa, do you believe the prophets? I know you believe.” If Agrippa will only look at what he already believes and put two and two together, he will see the truth in Paul’s faith in Jesus.

Agrippa’s response in verse 28 has a famous mistranslation. The King James Version has him say, “Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.” From there we get the old gospel hymn, “Almost persuaded now to believe; Almost persuaded Christ to receive.” It’s as if Agrippa was right on the edge of conversion, nearly ready to believe in Jesus.

But the king’s words were not about near belief, they were mockery. They actually mean what we read in the NRSV, “Are you so quickly persuading me to become a Christian?” In other words, “Do you really think you will convince me so easily?” Agrippa wanted more than Paul’s testimony and an appeal to the prophets to change his mind.

Paul doesn’t care about being mocked. “Whether quickly or not,” he says in verse 29, he prays to God that Agrippa and everyone else there listening will believe. He hangs on to that insane idea that Jesus is for everyone. He doesn’t want a “personal,” private faith that is just for him. He wants everyone to “become such as I am—except for these chains.”

You probably realize that’s a hard sell among many people today. As I said, lots of people are perfectly willing to allow you a right to your own beliefs. But they absolutely refuse to grant you any influence over their beliefs. Go ahead and trust in Jesus to forgive your sins and give you eternal life. But don’t try to impose that faith and trust on anyone else because that’s just crazy.

Yet if you and I believe what Paul did, that Jesus died and rose again to proclaim light both to Jewish people and to everyone else, then we will need to join Paul in looking a little insane, a bit crazy as we share our faith. If what we call the Good News of Jesus Christ really is good news for everyone, then, like Paul, we will want to ask those around us to take another look, to see for themselves that Jesus is for them too.

Paul only briefly stated the reasonableness of his faith in verse 25. Some Christians are called to defend its reasonability, like our philosopher friend Dan McKaughan who spoke here a couple weeks ago. But reasoned argument is not the only way to point people to the truth of Jesus. We can live in practical ways which demonstrate that the things we believe are true good news for everyone.

Back in chapter 20 of Acts verse 15, we read that, while sailing on his third missionary journey, Paul and his party touched for a day on the Greek island of Samos. Today on the island of Samos there is a wonderful Christian woman named Maria Makrogianni. 4,000 Syrian refugees living in a camp there call her “Mama Maria.”

When refugees first started showing up on Samos in 2015, sailing in little boats over from Turkey, Maria saw a pregnant woman soaking wet, carrying a child and walking on the beach. She invited the woman in to her restaurant by the water and fed her. Then she kept doing it over and over. I think she has prepared over 20,000 meals for refugees.

After a while Maria began to get threatening phone calls. Other people on Samos wanted to stop her feeding refugees in her restaurant. They thought she was crazy to do it. So Maria closed up the restaurant but kept feeding people from her home. Last Christmas Maria spent the whole day cooking in her kitchen and then took meals to the camp. When asked about it, she said, “This is Christmas. Jesus was a refugee too and was turned away.” Mama Maria also feeds refugees at her own table. She says that philoxenia, love for the stranger, is a core ideal of being Greek and being a Greek Orthodox Christian.

In one news story, a refugee man in Maria’s home lit a candle in front of her Christian icons. The reporter asked him if he was a Christian. He said that no, he was a Muslim, but in Mama Maria he saw that they have the same God. Her love demonstrated to that man that Christian faith was not just for Greeks but for him too.

We want to live like Paul and Mama Maria here at Valley Covenant Church. We want to be unafraid of being called insane by people around us, whether it’s because we teach the truth that Jesus Christ is risen for everyone or because we demonstrate that truth by feeding and housing and welcoming people no one else will welcome. Either way, like Paul or Maria, we want everyone to be such as we are, followers of Jesus no matter how crazy it seems.

Amen.