Chapter 20

Wow, we’re at the end of February already! And we’re closing in on the end of our second book; I’d better get the poll going soon!

I have often read the first part of this chapter – the story of the young man Eutychus – with some bemusement. Quite apart from Paul getting the “Oh yeah, and he also brought some guy back to life” treatment (similar to that which was described for Peter a couple of chapters back!), I have always wondered whether Paul should be blamed for his death or lauded for him coming back to life. Possibly both. As a kid, I must admit that I knew all about how Eutychus must have felt, given that I have listened to some exquisitely dull sermons in my time.

Maybe I’m being a bit unfair to Paul. Maybe he was interesting, but this guy who’d worked all day (as they tended to in those days) and then come to church in the evening simply couldn’t stay awake.

Whatever.

Anyway, if anyone had any doubts as to Paul’s apostolic authority, they’d have to be gone by now. Raising the dead is something that only God can do. And tell anyone who tries to insult your intelligence by mentioning CPR or defibrillators that this is quite a different matter. Resurrection differs from resuscitation in two respects: 1) Resuscitation requires the patient to be ALIVE, if in a precarious state[1]; 2) Resuscitation could not be performed at this time of history, whereas resurrection could if someone was REALLY connected with God!

From here we read about another section of Paul’s travels, this time heading for Macedonia. From Greece (presumably including Macedonia!), they eventually headed for Jerusalem. Note that Luke has rejoined the team, and once again it’s “We” rather than “they”.

Paul has a bad feeling about this.

He has been informed somehow by the Holy Spirit that this trip to Jerusalem isn’t going to be easy. He’s not sure what is going to happen, but he’s fairly sure that he’s never going to see the leaders of the Ephesus congregation again. So he calls them together and gives them a few instructions:

My life isn’t the issue – what matters is the preaching of the Gospel.
I have done all I can for you.
It’s your turn. Do all you can for these people that Jesus died for.
Things will be rough – don’t forget the years I spent with you.
I commit you to God.
Work for the weak and don’t exploit them (following my own example).

And Paul leaves.

It’s a wrenching story, but does it mean anything to us?
The answer is yes.

When we work with people, sooner or later we’re going to have to leave them. It’s a fact of life. Personally I don’t like thinking this way, but it’s a reality we have to face.

The actions we take when we spend time with them, therefore, must start with the end in mind. Knowing you have to leave someone eventually, on what terms would you like that to be?

Paul here is an ideal to some extent, but I see what is written here as an example of what would be GOOD to leave behind.

Paul can honestly say that he slogged his very heart out for these people. He can say that he’s given the leaders the training they need (note that they are going to face troubles – Paul’s response indicates sorrow for that, but also confidence that they can and will negotiate their problems well). Paul can say, most importantly of all, that if they follow his example they’ll do well.

Wow, big time commitment.

I wonder how willing we would be to make the same claim, given our own behaviour?

I’d certainly balk.

It’s often been said that “Example isn’t everything, it’s the ONLY thing.” And I have found that to be a true thought over the years. Whatever your leader demonstrates is what you tend to follow – whether it’s good or bad!

Paul is heartbroken to leave his ministry team, but he’s in that fortunate place where he can honestly say that when he’s gone, he is confident that they’ll do fine.

The record shows that Ephesus survived many years as a centre of the Christian faith. So Paul’s faith in his leaders was well-founded.

What can we do if we want to say the same?


[1] A lot of people don’t understand this. When a doctor or paramedic describes someone as “clinically dead”, they’re not saying life is extinct. They’re saying that the classic life signs – heartbeat and breathing – are absent. For a person to actually be resuscitated, the heart needs to still be alive; there is a limited window of opportunity for this, because the heart muscle itself needs oxygen provided by circulation of blood. Resuscitation aims to put the heart back into rhythm, and if the muscles aren’t twitching at all, then there’s only one thing left to do (namely go through the person’s pockets and look for loose change).