Ah, nicknames. Sometimes they can be funny…like Pookey, Peanut or Pee-diddle. Sometimes they can be a problem. I am forever explaining why people call me Jack when my real name is John, while relatives who still can't tell me apart from my twin keep calling me "Twin" or Jim. And, of course, his name is really James.
Sometimes nicknames can be very special. In our family, we still call our son David "DD" because that's what he first called himself. And one of my cherished memories is of my grandfather, the only person who ever called him "Davy."
Nicknames. Sometimes they are a necessity, and sometimes they are just right. That must have been the case with this one named Joseph. Evidently, there were so many Joes in the early church, the disciples first identified him by his nationality…he's the ethnic minority person, you know, the one from Cyprus. Then they called him by his middle name, Barnabas. They called him that, as well, because it was exactly who he was—Son of consolation, Son of refreshment, Son of encouragement.
That's Barnabas, all right. Generous, caring, encouraging, open-handed, helpful, supporting others in their journey of faith and enabling others to be in ministry. Luke says Barnabas sold a field and brought the proceeds to the apostle—like so much rummage, I suppose—in order to build up, to support the work. Maybe we would say to "nurture and equip."
Barnabas. What a great name! I always thought if I ever had the chance to name a church, I would name it after St. Barnabas—the community of consolation, the congregation of refreshment, the company of those who encourage one another, build each other up. Because we all need "Barnabases" in our lives, don't we? We all need a Son of encouragement once in awhile. Lloyd John Ogilvie says: "The world is filled with discouraged people who desperately need the friendship of one who encourages." [1]
Thank God for Barnabas!
By way of contrast, Luke sets Barnabas side by side with Mr. and Mrs. Ananias and Sapphira. Also, by way of contrast, I have never known of a church named for them. Luke holds them side by side and the point is obvious: Barnabas is the one who found the way.
1. Barnabas discovered the true value of things.
He discovered what mattered most, and as a result, he put everything in its proper perspective.
Let's be clear up front. The Bible does not say "things," "wealth" and "money" don't matter or are not important. In fact, it's just the opposite. One-third of all of Jesus' parables have to do with our relationship to material things. The Bible tells us they are vitally important, that they matter a great deal. Evidently, Barnabas learned their true value, their true worth. Evidently, Barnabas learned that every good gift comes from God and, therefore, he accepted that all he had was a gracious gift of God's grace. Evidently, he learned to appreciate the true value of all he possessed as a sacred trust from God. And in that light, material things are not of less value, they are of infinitely more value, eternal value, sacred worth.
Think back a year to the devastation of Katrina. How often did we hear survivors say things like, "We lost everything, but our kids and family are safe." How often did we hear something like, "Now we know what matters most." But tell me, why does it take a disaster to teach us this simple lesson?
Remember the story Jesus told of the farmer who had a bumper crop—great harvest, bountiful season. So the farmer said to himself, "Self, what shall we do? I know, I'll build me some bigger barns… keep it, hold it, hoard it all." And Jesus said, "Thou fool…tonight your soul will be required of thee, then whose will all these things be?" (Luke 12:18)
When you realize you could lose the whole harvest overnight, you've learned how precious all these things really are. Then you discover that it's the soul harvest which matters most, and if your soul is in the right place, you will value all things with new appreciation and worth. Barnabas learned to hold everything gently, in open hands, as a sacred trust from God.
This is the root of authentic Christian stewardship—to realize that I am, in fact, a "steward," a caretaker of the bounty God has entrusted to me. And in that light, "things" become more important than ever since, in fact, they come from God.
I realize we approach this season of commitment during a troubling time in Michigan. It is a time of anxiety, a time of stress, a time of uncertainty. But this kind of a day can also be a time when we reassess the priorities of our lives, determine the things that matter most, learn the true value of things.
Barnabas found the way—the way to value all he had received as a gift from God.
2. Barnabas found the way to generosity.
You see, the problem is that troubling times, difficult economic realities, or upheavals in our industries can sometimes push us in exactly the opposite direction. Instead of teaching us new appreciation for material things, they can drive us to selfishness and greed, hoarding and holding, narrowing our lives to the point that "things" take on even less value. The antidote is a spirit of generosity.
Barnabas found the way—the way to generous living. He found the way to use what he had received from God to encourage, to console, to refresh.
If you track the journey of Barnabas through the book of Acts, he always shows up in the same frame:
- Following the conversion of Saul into Paul, he is the one who makes the way of welcome, who introduces him to the community of the faithful. (Acts 9:26-27)
- In Judea, he is the one who carries the relief offering to the suffering Christians…a symbol of the open hearts of the disciples. (Acts 11:29-30)
- In Antioch he serves with Paul, assisting others in their ministry, opening minds to the Gospel. (Acts 11:22-26)
- In Jerusalem, he is there at the first conference, arguing for the inclusion of the Gentiles in the community…opening the doors for the outsiders. (Acts 15:1-31)
Opening hearts, opening minds, opening doors….has a nice ring to it, don't you think?
Here, in this first incident, it's Barnabas who models Christian generosity, modeling the life of the community where Luke says "…they were of one heart, and one soul…they had everything in common; they sold everything they had and brought it to the Apostles and there was not a needy person among them." (Acts 4:32)
(A parentheses here: It's interesting that the folks who want to take the Bible "literally" never seem to want to take this passage literally. I am not suggesting we should. But I am suggesting the Bible should be taken seriously….learning the lessons of caring and compassion, sharing and generosity, so that all might have enough.)
So Barnabas sells a field and brings the proceeds for the ministry of Christ. And when Ananias and Sapphira see it, they think they will try it, too. But instead, they hold something back for themselves—deceptive, greedy, clutching, lining their own pockets. Call them the Jack Abramoff of the first century church, I suppose—wanting to look good rather than do good; doing for others, but doing for themselves first. They wanted, like Barnabas, to be known for their generosity, but didn't want to pay the price. And when the truth comes out, they are so shocked, they drop down dead! Because, you see, when you grab and clutch and hold, your life shrivels and your soul dies.
Looking at nicknames again, the real tragedy here is that Ananias actually means "gracious" and Sapphira actually means "beautiful," but their lives were exactly the opposite, and they end in death.
Eugene Peterson has done a contemporary paraphrase of the scriptures which catches the power of some of the passages we have heard so often they have lost their punch. Here is his translation of Jesus' words from Luke's version of the "Sermon on the Mount." Maybe Luke was remembering this when he told the story of Barnabas and Mr. and Mrs. Ananias. Jesus said:
Give away your life; you'll find life given back to you, but not merely given back—given back with bonus and blessing. Generosity begets generosity. Giving, not getting, is the way. (Luke 6:38)
Barnabas found the way—the way to the true value of things, the way of generosity, the way of life.
This week we had dinner with a dear friend, celebrating his 73rd birthday. His life has not always been easy. A childhood accident left him blind in one eye. The early death of his father left him to be raised by his mother and grandfather. More recently, the untimely death of his beloved wife left him alone just as he was ready to retire. But he never complains; he is always radiant, full of joy and love. He was successful in his business, and today his life as a grandfather brings him unbounded joy. As we talked, he brought it home with his standard message. I have heard it over and over it again, and I knew that our time together would not end without it. It's a message he implanted in the hearts and minds of my sons as well as his own:
In my business, I have been more blessed than I ever expected or ever deserved. But the one thing I have always tried to do is pass it on…pass on the blessings. That's where you find real joy. If you've been blessed, find a way to pass on the blessings to others.
My friend Bill found the way.
Barnabas found the way.
Back in the '70s when I was in seminary, it was another time of turmoil—a time of unrest, a time of uncertainty, a time of a conflicted war and a struggling economy. At Asbury Seminary we started what has become a 34-year-old tradition, a Christian music festival called ICHTHUS. It draws over ten thousand youth every summer. In one of those early years, the climax of the event focused on a then-popular song. It could be the theme song for Barnabas, Son of Encouragement, Saint of Generosity:
The road is long, with many a winding turn
Which leads us to who knows where, who knows where;
But I'm strong, strong enough to carry him.
He ain't heavy, he's my brother.
So on we go. His welfare is my concern.
No burden is he to bear, we'll get there.
For I know, he would not encumber me.
He ain't heavy, he's my brother.
If I'm laden at all, I'm laden with sadness
That everyone's heart isn't filled with the gladness
Of love for one another.
It's a long, long road, from which there is no return.
While we're on our way to there, why not share?
And the load doesn't weigh me down at all.
He ain't heavy, he's my brother.
(Sidney Russell and Robert Stack)
Note: Special thanks to Joe Armijo, our music director for Sunday Night Alive, for ending the sermon with a wonderful rendition of "He Ain't Heavy."
1. Drumbeat of Love, page 67