What We Learn from the End of Acts
The Book of Acts is packed with action. The title, “The Acts of the Apostles,” makes this clear. As many commentators have suggested, a more accurate title would include something about the Holy Spirit, or perhaps an even better title would be “The Action of the Ascended Christ by His Spirit Through His Church.”
The book opens with Jesus ascending to the throne of the universe, sending his Spirit, and commissioning his messengers. “You will be my witnesses,” he promises, “in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth” (Acts 1:8). And so Luke recounts the movements in that outline — all action and no slush.
There are powerful proclamations, riveting dialogues, and thousands of conversions. There is everything from miracles that disgruntle white-collar villains to prison sentences that end in wild escape. There is character development — absolute transformation — when Paul, an enemy to the gospel, is knocked off his horse by a shining light and then used to play a prominent role in the gospel’s advance. Then there is religious controversy and political trials. There are Jewish factions and the increasing threat Roman dominance. Add to this the maritime adventures of suspenseful decision-making and shipwreck, and then winding up on an obscure island to be greeted by hospitable natives and a venomous snakebite.
Sometimes Jesus’s messengers were mistaken as gods, other times they were killed by the sword. Sometimes they were stoned to death, other times they were stoned but survived. There are disputes among the protagonists, ironic encounters, and affectionate goodbyes. The world was being turned upside down far and wide (Acts 17:6), everywhere from the scruffy blacksmith whose idol-making business hit hard times to the highest court of international law. It really is an incredible book.
And then there’s the way it ends.
Throughout the book, the action has ramped up, up, up. Paul’s voyage to Rome has been like a symphonic crescendo. The percussion is blaring louder, louder, louder. And then the story closes with a bi-vocational leader sharing with folks who visit him at his house. All of that action — head-spinning action — leaves us with the scene of an old man simply inviting everyone to his table so he could tell them about Jesus.
[Paul] lived there two whole years at his own expense, and welcomed all who came to him, proclaiming the kingdom of God and teaching about the Lord Jesus Christ with all boldness and without hindrance. (Acts 28:30–31)
Plainness As the Peak
The Book of Acts is meant to frame the church’s self-understanding. It has a “formative function,” as it’s been called, which is aimed at answering the identity question: Who are we, and what are we supposed to do?
Luke doesn’t answer this question with a bulleted list. Nor does he give us a handbook full of prescriptive lines. Instead, he writes our story, our history, with a theological deliberateness we can’t ignore. This kind of approach doesn’t call our plays on the field, but it shapes the way we see the game. The whole book is pointing in this direction, especially these last few lines. They are no accident. Acts 28:30–31 has huge implications for how we be Christian in our day.
To be sure, Luke is not prescribing a “house church” model, but it’s important that we understand the role our homes have in our mission. The biblical vision of the gospel’s advance isn’t bright lights and a great sound system. It looks much more plain. Paul is sharing a meal with his neighbors. This is no frills Christian mission, and it’s how Luke concludes the Book of the Action of the Ascended Christ by His Spirit Through His Church!
A People of Open Doors
Luke has shown us the miracles. He has shown us how the Spirit might send us into the back of a limousine beside a foreign ambassador who’s reading the Bible (see Acts 8:26–40). The Spirit can do that sort of thing. But that’s not the inspired author’s last word. The rhythm of our daily witness is the simple, reproducible strategy of opening our doors to whomever will come. Paul “welcomed all who came” into his house where he plainly taught the story of God and who Jesus is. Come in, have some coffee, pull up a chair, let me tell you about Jesus. This is the last thing we see a gospel messenger do in the Book of Acts and it’s what we can still do today, whether in Minneapolis or Malaysia.
With summer just around the corner — hang in there, church! — this is the perfect season for us to do this. Looking ahead at the next few months, would you pray and plan how your home can become a center for the gospel’s triumph? What will our hospitality look like for you this summer? Could you try to get at least one event on the calendar — one barbecue or discussion group or prayer meeting?
Now, chances are, none of this will feel epic, but it really is this setting where the kingdom of God invades this old world. It’s in those conversations about who Jesus is and what he has done for us, simple as they may be, that the force of his reign shines through us. It’s at our dinner tables, no less ordinary than a stable from first-century Bethlehem, where lives are transformed from darkness to light, where God’s enemies become his sons and daughters, where his glory shines a little brighter into this planet he will soon make new.
Luke means for us to walk away from this book not disillusioned by a distant historical recount, but infused with encouragement to pick up where Paul left off. Because The Action of the Ascended Christ by His Spirit Through His Church now includes you and me.
