In this passage, we get the perfect portrait of community, as I believe Jesus intended. People sharing meals and holding space for one another. They’re reading and praying together, and actually doing the will of God. It kinda makes me wonder what happened?

What was the thought behind replacing this model for what we have today: institutionalized religion.

Walk into almost any church building, and I doubt you’ll find what Luke just described. Yes, there are similarities. But where’s the awe?Where are the people being blown away by what God is doing? Church has become more of a routine than a revolutionary movement. We come and go through the motions. But are we really being transformed? I’m not saying we’re doing it wrong.  But asking, “can we do it better?”

In the early days, people weren't in awe because of a polished sermon or praise band. They were in awe because of what they were seeing. You had slaves and free people, Jews and Gentiles, the wealthy and the broke, all sitting at the same table, sharing the same bread.

There was no judgment or "cancel culture." Just Christ-like love where no one was without because everyone gave. Shane Claiborne writes, "The church was never meant to be a building you go to; it was always meant to be a movement you belong to. A living, breathing, risky, messy movement of people following Jesus."

That’s what Rev. Dawn and I set out to do with Anamesa. We wanted to build the kind of community that leaves the world in awe despite our physical distance. We wanted to create a sacred ecosystem where the only rule is the rule of love. A space where we care for one another, welcome the stranger, and offer the kind of grace that keeps Jesus’ wisdom alive.

I think we are slowly moving closer to realizing that vision. But we can’t settle if we want to be like this Acts 2 community.

In this passage, Luke uses the Greek word ‘koinonia’ which is usually translated as "fellowship." Today, that sounds like drinking bad coffee in a basement hall after service. But it actually means, "participation in a shared life." That is, everyone showed up to share life, to love God, love each other, and serve both.

They didn't just preach the gospel; they lived it out loud. They believed Jesus meant what he said, even though most had learned about him second hand. They didn’t need to see Jesus, or touch his scared hands to be sure. They knew him because they could recognize his Way, his love and compassion, in those they shared life with.

As I’ve said before, which often gets me labeled a heretic, Jesus didn’t come to get us into heaven when we die. He came to get heaven into us, so we can live. He said “the Kingdom of Heaven is within you” (Luke 17:21).

His disciples actually believed him, taking him at face value and living ‘Kingdom lives’ centered on what God wanted rather than what their egos wanted. They practiced the Way of Jesus so deeply that the Kingdom of God became a reality, and God added to their lives.

This is not a matter of devotion, but a matter of practice. As I noted last week, the gospel isn’t a script to recite—it is a testimony of the heart carried out by our hands. Unless it moves from our lips to our lives, it isn't truly preached. Our call is to practice the Way of Jesus over and over again until people are left in awe of the way we live, not just the things we say.

We are the Body of Christ. A living, breathing, thriving organism. Our call is to be the visible and tangible part of God’s love just as Jesus was.

Think about his teachings. Jesus never used stagnant metaphors. He told us to be seeds that grow. Stones that build. Yeast that makes the whole loaf rise.  Salt that brings out the flavor in others. Light that illuminates the world.

This isn’t about being a religion or institution. This is about being little Christs building up God’s kingdom in every space we enter.  At the end of the day, a church’s success isn't about how many people are sitting in the pews; it’s about how many people we’ve blow away with love.

An authentic church is an ethic that loves the unlovable and forgive the unforgivable.  It’s an economy feeds the hungry and heals the sick. It’s a culture that welcomes the stranger and stands with the marginalized.

It’s not about pettiness, or politics, or positions of power. It’s about taking the name Christ seriously. To believe Jesus meant it when he said: "If you love me, love one another."

Love is the math of God. Love begets more love. It never divides, it multiplies.

So when everyone else is busy dividing, we have to be bridges that unite. When others are hoarding, we have to open up our hearts and share what we have. When the world is being rude and hateful, we have to be compassionate and respectful; lifting others up when they’ve been knocked down.

As Rainn Wilson once pointed out, this first house church movement was the first time in human history where people from all different races, nations, classes, and genders all gathered together to share a common purpose: to worship God and remember the legacy of Jesus.

To live this way is still dangerous, and to some, it seems heretical. But in our current, hyper-divided world, the church must stay revolutionary. We have to be a people who realize that if we can’t find Christ in the person struggling at our front door, then we aren't going to find him in our pews or pulpits.

The first church changed the world because they opened their hearts to the people the rest of the world had left for dead. In doing so, they proved to us that it’s actually possible to live like Jesus, in accordance with the will of God, right here and now.

So, the question is: Can we do that? Can we reclaim the spark that set the first church on fire and be revolutionary again? I think the answer is deceptively simple.

First, we must remember that God is not a set of beliefs. God is the love that happens between us.

Second, spread that love by creating joy, waging peace, and serving the poor. To be a people who don’t offer "answers," but sit in the uncomfortable silence with a neighbor who is grieving. Be the voice online that chooses grace instead outrage. Live with a heart so open that your life becomes a sanctuary for the ignored.

In other words, just imitate Christ. Remember what Jesus did, and go and do that. Be the living, breathing incarnation of God’s love right where you are.

Because when the Gospel moves from our lips into our lives, the world won’t just hear the message—they will stand in absolute awe of the One who first ignited this revolution.

This is "Pentecost Peter." He and 120 other believers have just been doused in the promised power of the Holy Spirit. And they cannot contain it at all. The atmosphere is a strange, beautiful cocktail of joy and utter confusion. People are speaking in a kaleidoscope of languages, yet every listener hears the message in their mother tongue.

The cynics are there, too. They see the ecstasy and assume it’s just a morning bender. But Peter stands up, debunks the insult, and lays out the cornerstone of our Christian faith. He wasn't the first to tell the story, though.

Last week, we watched the prequel. The story of Mary Magdalene at the tomb, where, in the final scene, Jesus tells her to go and let the others know what she has witnessed. And her testimony—“The one who was dead is now alive; where there was weeping, there is now joy”—would launch a great franchise. And set the foundation of the church for Peter and the others to build upon.

In our "movie," the camera now pans across the faces in the crowd. It’s a sea of humanity. Men, women, young and old. All awe-struck. You have pilgrims from every corner of the Roman Empire.

Some are hearing the name "Jesus of Nazareth" for the very first time. Others were there on Friday; they saw the cross, they heard the rumors of an empty tomb, but they haven't connected the dots.

To all of them, Peter gives an Oscar-worthy monologue: "Listen! This Jesus—the one you crucified—is more than a teacher. He is the Messiah. He is the Holy One promised by the prophets."

As he speaks, there is a mixture of emotions in the crowd. But filled with the Holy Spirit, Peter continues to profess: “We are witnesses to this truth that this Jesus we are talking about … God has raised up from the dead …everyone here today is now a witness to this truth.”

Scripture says the Holy Spirit “pierced their hearts” with his words.

Then from the crowd, a  voice cries out from the back: "Brothers, what do we do?"

Peter’s face softens as the camera pushes in for his close up. He answers, "Change your direction. Return to God. Be baptized. Let Christ be your Lord. And let His grace be your joy."

​More than a 5-step plan; Peter gives them the way to a whole, new life. The crowd erupts in a loud, riotous roar.

From this one impromptu sermon, we are told three thousand people were baptized that day. Let’s pause the film for a moment. Think about what that says to the power of testimony?

From Peter’s public proclamation, the Church and her faith was established.

How, then, can your story help change the direction of someone’s life? You might think you have nothing important to say. But here’s what I’ve learned.

The most powerful testimony you can offer, isn’t your words. It comes through your heart and hands. For compassion always speaks louder than doctrine. Tenderness lasts longer than platitudes. The way you show love has the power to change someone’s life forever.

Now, back to the movie.

The film transitions to a montage: this crowd moves toward the Jordan River in numbers so vast they seem to stop the flow of the water. With hearts aglow, these pilgrim people return to their homes in Egypt, Mesopotamia, Crete, Arabia, all over the Roman empire, carrying the message of Christ with them to their communities.

The opening credits roll over a montage of the unlikely: rich and poor, free and enslaved, Jew and Gentile. It’s a visceral reminder that God’s love is a wildfire that refuses to be contained by a single city, a single building, or a single heart.

We know from our journey through Lent that Jesus started with twelve ordinary people to build a Kingdom. Those twelve—plus a few hundred "extras"—rose above their own flaws to become not just the voice of God, but the hands and feet as well. This is important for us to remember, today, as we face deep divisions within the church.

This story in Acts, reminds us that with our powerful testimony, we are given a great responsibility to carry the gospel out into the world - not just with our words, but in our deeds as well. We are called to manifest God’s love in all that we say and do.

The cynics are out there. People are watching us. But what do they see? Christians in name only? Or Christ followers? A community who intentionally live the Way of Jesus? People who will put aside their ego, and care for the least of these, so no one is without.

It doesn’t matter what we say on Sunday, if our actions are silent the rest of the week.

I’ve spent decades speaking in front of people. That might seem terrifying to you. I get that. But my words don’t mean anything if I don’t practice what I preach.

You may not have the right words, but you’re willing to sit with a friend going through a break up. That says more than any sermon I could give.

You might not understand church doctrine, but that doesn’t stop you from organizing a clothing drive to help single mom’s who are struggling to make ends meet. That’s testifying.

Like Meister Eckhart famously said: Go preach the gospel, using words only when necessary.

Scripture tells us that Peter eventually steps down from the pulpit to serve others, just as Jesus did. He shared the good news by loving God, loving others, and serving both…just as we are called to do. This is how the first church lived out the gospel. Their way would go on to inspire others to do the same.

Think about St. Francis who gave up his family fortune to care for the poor. Or St. Catherine of Siena who risked her life caring for victims of the plague. And St. Teresa of Calcutta loved those the world had left for dead.

Then there are the "Everyday Saints" in our communities. My friend Kerry shows up every Monday at the food pantry to handout groceries to those suffering with food insecurity. Julie Garcia, a great-grand mother who walks the hallways of her retirement home, praying for her neighbors.

God uses ordinary people like you and me to be everyday saints. To proclaim Christ’s glory and love.

One of the last things Jesus taught his disciples was, “Love one another as I have loved you.”That’s the gospel. That’s it. Two thousand years later, love still remains the best way to proclaim Jesus as Lord and Christ. But we have to be willing to do it.

After the opening credits and montage of people having their lives transformed, the camera settles in a great room of a private home where many have gathered for a meal. The camera focuses on a Roman soldier. His eyes are wet with tears. He unbuckles his sword, hands it to Peter, and falls to his knees. Peter doesn't look down on his former enemy; he reaches down, pulls him up, into a loving embrace.

Here the gospel is proclaimed without a single word spoken.

In that hug, Peter shows him what the resurrection looks like in real-time. He repeats the message of the empty tomb. "The one who was dead is now alive. Where there was weeping, there is now joy."

In that sacred space—somewhere between mercy and grace—the Church comes alive.

Outside of my own family, nearly everyone from that first Sunday is gone. According to the books on church growth, that might look like failure. But what if this church was meant to grow exactly like the garden it was planted in? Always evolving, always shifting from one season to the next.

​In our garden, some plants bloom for a season then die off, leaving behind nutrients for whatever comes next. Others scatter seeds in the wind, that take root in fields we may never see.

​There’s a sacred truth found in the soil beneath our feet. A holy reminder of our Easter hope: In the darkness of the earth, God is constantly bringing new life from seeds buried long ago.

Our Easter reading comes from the gospel of John. This is the second part of the story. The stone has already been rolled away. Peter and John have already raced to the tomb and discovered their friend’s body is gone.

When everyone else returns home, one brave soul stays behind in the garden searching for answers to a mystery that has echoed throughout time.