Chapter 30

Diversity in the Jerusalem Church; Expansion to Judea and Samaria (Acts 6–9)

After the Sanhedrin session at which Gamaliel spoke (ca. A.D. 36?), Acts begins an era in which, except for the brief period in which a Jewish king ruled Judea (Herod Agrippa I; A.D. 41–44; Acts 12:1-23), the branch of the Jerusalem church closely associated with the Twelve was not persecuted.1 That period would come to an end in A.D. 62 when James, the brother of the Lord and leader of the Jerusalem church, was put to death.2 Thus, according to the implicit indications of Acts, for some twenty years (a.d. 36–40, 45–62) the main Christian leaders could have functioned with Jerusalem as a base without attempts by the Jewish authorities to have them exterminated. This is not implausible, for we have indications that Paul could go to Jerusalem within those years and see some of the “pillars of the church” without any indication of secrecy. However, the removal of the external threat did not mean that all was well. Suddenly, after speaking of the church as being of one mind, at the beginning of chapter 6 Acts tells us about a hostile division among Jerusalem Christians, a division that will bring persecution on a segment of them (not those closely associated with the apostles) and lead eventually to a great missionary enterprise.

DIVERSITY IN THE JERUSALEM CHURCH AND ITS EFFECTS (ACTS 6:1–7:60)

Selections from this section of Acts serve as lectionary readings on three weekdays at the end of the second week of Easter and the beginning of the Third Week; and on two Sundays (Fifth, Seventh, A and C respectively).

Acts 6:1-6: Divisive Behavior within the Jerusalem Church. Probably here Acts draws on an old tradition, and the account is sketchy. (Was the source sketchy or did the author choose not to dwell on such an unpleasantry in a church that he has told us was of one mind?) The division manifests itself in an area that Acts has lauded several times: the common goods. Now, however, this feature is no longer a sign of koinōnia, for two groups of Jewish believers within the Jerusalem community are fighting over the common goods. Why? The designation of one group as Hellenists (Greek-like) and the Greek names of their leaders (6:5) suggest that they were Jews (in one case a proselyte or convert to Judaism) who spoke (only?) Greek and who were raised as children acculturated to Greco-Roman civilization. Deductively by contrast, then, the other group called the Hebrews would have spoken Aramaic or Hebrew (sometimes as well as Greek) and have been more culturally Jewish in outlook.3 Beyond the cultural difference apparently there was also a theological difference. The apostles, who were clearly Hebrew Christians, did not let their faith in Jesus stop them from worshiping in the Temple (Acts 2:46; 3:1; 5:12, 21). However, Stephen, who will become the Hellenist leader, speaks as if the Temple has no more meaning (7:48-50). In fact, we know that Jews of this period were sharply divided over the claim that the Jerusalem Temple was the sole place on earth at which sacrifice could be offered to God; and so it is not improbable that Jews of opposite persuasion on that issue may have become believers in Jesus. Some of them would have regarded that faith as a catalyst toward the demise of the importance of Temple cult. In any case the disagreement among these Jerusalem Christians has been translated into finances (as have many inner church fights ever since) because the Hebrews (surely the larger group) were attempting to force the Hellenists to conformity by shutting off common funds from the Hellenist widows, who presumably were totally dependent on this support.

In order to deal with this situation the Twelve summoned “the multitude” of the disciples (perhaps a technical name for those who could vote) to settle the issue. In this session the Twelve avoided the obvious, simple solutions. Although Hebrews themselves, they did not simply side with the Hebrews and demand that the Hellenists either conform or leave. Moreover, they refused to take over the administration of the common goods; specifically they did not wish to involve themselves in waiting on or serving4 tables in order to ensure a fair distribution of food. Rather they wished to allow the Hellenists to have their own leaders and administrators of the common goods.

This brief scene offers Christians of today important subjects for reflection. First, nowhere do we see more clearly the unique role of the Twelve.5 A symbolic group at the beginning of the renewed Israel (even as the twelve sons of Jacob/Israel were esteemed as the originators of the twelve tribes), the Twelve have the eschatological function of purifying and maintaining the wholeness of God’s people. They are once and for all, never replaced; there are only twelve thrones of judgment and they are to have them. Here the concern of the Twelve for the whole of the renewed Israel is exemplified in their refusing to take a partisan position. They preserve the koinōnia by their solution, for the Hellenists are to remain as fully recognized brothers and sisters in Christ. Peter is normally the spokesman of the Twelve, and in the church today the symbolic functioning of the Twelve is represented by the successor of Peter when the papacy is at its best. There are always factions in the church who want their opponents excommunicated or suppressed because they are not “true Catholics” or “true Christians.” But the successor of Peter, who symbolizes the unity of the whole people of God, has as a principal task to hold the koinōnia together. One of his great glories is to keep people in the church and not let them be driven out.

Second, in reality the acceptance of the suggestion made by the Twelve was a decision in the early church for pluralism and an appropriation of what we have come to call today “the hierarchy of doctrine.” The cultural and theological differences that existed in Jerusalem between the Hebrews and the Hellenists were implicitly being judged as less important than their common belief in Jesus. That same instinct will manifest itself later when it comes to the issue of whether circumcised believers can accept uncircumcised believers as equally and truly Christian. From the beginning Christianity has not gloried in uniformity except in basics, e.g., the christological identity of Jesus as uniquely embodying God’s presence. Most believers in Jesus decided very early that it was better to tolerate differences of practices and of theological attitudes rather than to destroy the koinōnia.

Third, the scene illustrates certain factors about the nature and origins of church structure. No blueprint had come from Jesus showing how the community of those who believed in him was to be administered. By the time described in Acts 6 (ca. A.D. 36?) believers are increasing in numbers and are arguing with one another—two sociological factors that always produce a need for defining leadership more clearly. The Twelve refuse to become administrators for local groups; yet such administrators now need to be appointed. Accordingly we hear of the seven who become the administrators for the Hellenist believers. Probably administrators also emerge for the Hebrew Christian community at the same time; henceforth (Acts 11:30; 12:17; 15:2, 4, 6, 13, 22, 23; 21:18) James the brother of the Lord and the elders (presbyters) shall appear as authorities in Jerusalem, alongside the apostles. The choice of administrators in 6:6 is done in the context of praying and the laying on of hands. Too often when modern Christians think of church structure, they take a simple, not to say simplistic, view. On the ultraliberal end of the Christian spectrum, church structure is seen simply as a sociological development that can be changed by voting. On the ultraconservative end of the spectrum church structure is seen to have been established by Jesus and no changes are permissible. Precisely because Jesus did not leave blueprints, church structure developed to meet needs; and so sociological factors have played a role. Yet in Christian self-understanding the Holy Spirit given by the risen Christ guided the church in the way it developed, so that structure came to embody Jesus Christ’s will for his church. (For that reason, certain basic aspects of the structure are believed by Christians to be unchangeable.) In other words, on the analogy of the incarnation, there is both the human and the divine in the church and its structure. A recognition of that will allow adaptations in church structure to meet the needs of our day without giving us the sense that each generation is free to reinvent the church.

Fourth, as depicted in Acts the Twelve made a good proposal—“the multitude” of the Jerusalem community recognized that by expressing approval. Nevertheless, as we are about to see, the decision had unexpected results that caused those in authority in Jerusalem many problems. Certainly none of those present at this meeting could have foreseen how far their decision would lead the church. (We should always recognize that with any major decision in the church the results are likely to go beyond what was foreseen and that often there is no way to stop at a point we judge prudent the thrust of what we have begun.) Let us now look at the aftermath.

Acts 6:7–7:60: Effects of Keeping the Hellenists within the Christian Communion. In keeping the Hellenists within the Christian koinōnia the Jerusalem community now becomes responsible for the actions and preaching of the Hellenist leaders. The chief priests and the Sanhedrin had implicitly decided to extend grudging tolerance to those who believed in the risen Christ (even though technically they were forbidden to speak in the name of Jesus); but that did not mean they would tolerate attacks on the Temple from believers in Jesus any more than they tolerated it from other Jews.6 The first-ranking among the Hellenists, Stephen, stirs up opposition at a Jerusalem synagogue attended largely by foreign Jews. They drag him before a Sanhedrin and level a charge about the message he is preaching—not that Jesus is risen (the previous issue that had disturbed the Sanhedrin about the Twelve), but that Jesus would destroy the Temple. Interestingly, although in the trial of Jesus Mark and Matthew had false witnesses charge Jesus with saying that he would destroy the Temple sanctuary (Mark: “made with hands”), Luke omitted that charge against Jesus. Did the evangelist want to lead his readers to a more subtle understanding, namely, that what was destructive to the Temple in Jesus’ proclamation became apparent only after his lifetime and then through those believers, like the Hellenists, who saw the more radical implications of Jesus’ message?7 In his long speech (Acts 7:2-53) in response to the Temple charge Stephen will phrase those radical implications in the climactic statement: “The Most High does not dwell in houses made with hands” (7:48).

Although Acts gives us speeches of Peter and Paul, none is so grand as the speech of Stephen. Is that because the Christianity that exists in the author’s lifetime has now followed the path of Stephen in terms of rejection of the Temple rather than that of Peter and Paul, both of whom are described as worshiping in the Temple? Stephen’s survey of the salvation history from the patriarch Abraham to Israel’s entrance into the Promised Land under Moses and Joshua has fascinated scholars since elements in it do not seem to reflect standard OT understanding. Some have even proposed that we have here reflections of a Samaritan background harmonious with the mission in Samaria that will soon be undertaken by the Hellenists. That discussion is too technical for our interests here, especially since only the last three verses of the speech (7:51-53) are read in the post-Easter lectionary. Those verses are astoundingly polemic from a prisoner in the dock, for Stephen accuses his hearers of giving over and murdering Jesus the just one even as their fathers persecuted the prophets. Not surprisingly this accusation brings the rage against Stephen to the boiling point, and he is cast out of the city and stoned to death (7:54-60). Both the Sunday and weekday lectionaries contain the account of this death; and the scene is truly significant, not only because Stephen is the first Christian martyr, but also because the death of Stephen in Acts matches so closely the death of Jesus in Luke. Both accounts speak of the Son of Man (standing/seated) at the right hand of God (Luke 22:69; Acts 7:56); both have a prayer for the forgiveness of those who are effecting this execution (Luke 23:34; Acts 7:60); both have the dying figure commend his spirit heavenward (Luke 23:46; Acts 7:59). In the figure of Peter Acts has shown continuity with Jesus’ ministry of healing and preaching; in the figure of Stephen Acts has shown continuity with Jesus’ death. And just as Jesus’ death was not the end because the apostles would receive his Spirit to carry on the work, the death of Stephen is not the end, for observing is a young man named Saul (7:58). He consents to the death (8:1), but in God’s providence he will continue the work of Stephen.

EXPANSION TO JUDEA AND SAMARIA; HELLENIST MISSION; CONVERSION OF SAUL; PETER’S ACTIVITIES (ACTS 8:1–9:43)

Selections from this section of Acts serve as lectionary readings on four weekdays at the end of the Third Week of Easter; and on two Sundays (Fifth, Sixth, B and A respectively).

Acts 8:1-40: The Hellenist Mission. In a complicated description that involves the phrase “all were scattered,” Acts 8:1 now tells us that a selective persecution followed the death of Stephen. The Hellenists were scattered; the apostles (and seemingly the Hebrew Christians) were not, presumably because they did not propagandize against the Temple as the Hellenists did. In this persecution a ferocious agent is Saul whose conversion will be dramatically recounted in the next chapter. Acts 1:8 laid out the divine plan of evangelization: “You shall be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”8 We have heard of witness (martyria) borne in Jerusalem culminating with the martyrdom of Stephen; now we are to hear about preaching in the next two regions as the Hellenists are scattered throughout Judea and Samaria. The picture of the spread of Christianity is highly selective; in 9:2, 10 we shall find a reference to Christian believers in Damascus without being told how they got there! Nevertheless it is interesting to reflect on the simplified picture in Acts 8.

First, such a basic step as moving outside Jerusalem to preach to a wider audience is not the result of planning but of persecution. Aspects of that picture will be true of many new missions throughout the ages: External pressure will cause Christians to see an area or means of evangelization that would not have occurred to them, and occasionally a harsh disaster will be turned into an opportunity. Thus once again Acts shows us that from the very start Christianity was not governed by a blueprint but by the Spirit.

Second, those who are expelled and become the missionaries to areas outside Jerusalem are the Hellenists, the more radical Christians in terms of their relation to Jewish Temple worship. Missionary activity in itself might have been neutral in the attitude it inculcated toward Judaism, but with the Hellenists as spokesmen it was bound to have a centrifugal force. Their converts to Jesus would have no deep attachment to features of Jewish worship; and where they encountered opposition from Jews who did not believe in Jesus, they would have felt less obligated to preserve a Christian attachment to the Jewish synagogues.

Third, the Hellenists, who differed from Hebrews (whether or not the latter had come to faith in Jesus), seemingly felt less obligated to preach Jesus only or even chiefly to Jews. Acts 8:5 tells us they went to the Samaritans; and 11:19-20 indicates that in Phoenica, Cyprus, and Antioch, although at first they spoke the word only to Jews, some preached to Gentiles. The instinct to go to Samaria is interesting. One of the major differences between Samaritans and Jews was that the former did not accept the Jerusalem Temple as the only place of worship. Since the Christian Hellenists were Jews who did not believe that God dwelt in houses made with hands, they were ideally suited to preach Jesus Christ to an area that might well have been hostile to Hebrew Christians who kept going to the Temple. (Many think that there is a Hellenist strain in John, the only Gospel where Jesus goes into Samaria and gains Samaritan followers. In John 4:21 we may be hearing the type of preaching done in Samaria by the Hellenists, for it speaks of an hour “when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain [Gerizim, the Samaritan holy place] nor in Jerusalem.”)

In any case the Hellenist proclamation of the good news to the Samaritans is highly successful. Yet the net of proclamation attracts Simon Magus, a figure who later became a subject of speculation, figuring in legend as the great adversary of Christianity. Does the author of Acts include the story of his defeat because already when Acts was being written gnostics were active who made Simon a hero?9 Interestingly, the one to confront Simon is Peter, not Philip the Hellenist successor of Stephen. The Jerusalem church has heard of the Hellenist success and sent Peter and John that they might receive the Holy Spirit. (One suspects that this is bowdlerizing the basic purpose of the apostolic visitation, namely, to verify whether the conversion of such outsiders as the Samaritans is reconcilable with Jesus’ proclamation.) The impression is created in Acts that granting the Spirit required the collaborative presence of the Twelve. Simon wants their power and offers money for it (thus forever immortalizing his name in the designation “simony”). Peter challenges him to repent; yet unlike Stephen’s prayer for his adversaries, this promotion of repentance is qualified as to whether Simon can really change his heart (8:22-23). That qualification may have fed the later legends. The experience in Samaria is pictured as influencing Peter and John because on their way back to Jerusalem they preached the gospel to Samaritans (8:25).

Acts 8:26-40 supplies another example of Hellenist evangelization, this time in the southern part of Judea rather than the north, again manifesting geographical spread. The fact that the Ethiopian eunuch has come to Jerusalem to worship and is reading Isaiah gives the impression of a foreign Jew from an exotic region in Africa (one of “the ends of the earth,” whether modern Ethiopia or Nubia to the south of Egypt is envisaged). Philip the Hellenist’s ability to interpret the prophet in order to explain Christ to the eunuch is a continuation of the risen Jesus’ interpreting the Scriptures for his disciples (Luke 24:27, 44-45). Deuteronomy 23:2(1) would rule out the admission of the castrated into the community of Israel, but Philip has no hesitation about meeting the eunuch’s request to be baptized into the community of the renewed Israel. That openness prepares us for the admission of Gentiles, and by way of transition Acts stops here to tell us about Saul/Paul who would be the great emissary to the Gentiles.

Acts 9:1-30: The Conversion of Saul. Besides narrating the account of the conversion here, the author will report it twice more from Paul’s lips in his speeches of self-defense (22:3-21; 26:2-23).10 In those later versions the vocation of Paul to evangelize the Gentiles will be blended into the conversion account. Here the author is content to move in stages: Ananias who cures and baptizes him is told of the future mission, but not Saul himself. Yet clearly it is because of all that is to be accomplished through this “vessel of election” (9:15) that Acts is so interested in recounting his dramatic conversion effected by Jesus himself.11 The dramatic touches of the story are superb, e.g., the personalizing of Saul’s hostility in 9:4, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” The reluctance of Ananias to have anything to do with Saul despite the Lord’s instruction highlights the metamorphosis of Saul from a truly fearsome persecutor. Acts is very careful to report that this great missionary received the Holy Spirit (9:17); for his proclamation will eventually be as potent as was that of Peter and the others who received the Spirit at Pentecost. In chapter 28 above I wrote about the importance of christological belief; in significant harmony with that Acts sums up the new convert’s preaching as “Jesus is the Son of God” (9:20). Acts also lays the basis for the future activity of Barnabas with Paul by telling us that it was Barnabas who supported Saul against those in Jerusalem who could not believe that the persecutor had now changed. Evidently under the constraint of actual history, Acts postpones the most famous activities of Saul/Paul by telling us that he went back to Tarsus (9:30); his great mission will be described later after the author tells us more about Peter.12

Acts 9:31-43: Peter’s Activities. The first of the Twelve was the spokesman of apostolic missionary activity in Jerusalem (Acts 2–5); now that the church has been spreading to Judea and Samaria13 the Hellenists and Saul have taken center stage (with Peter invoked chiefly to face Simon Magus). Beginning in 9:31, however, Peter returns to the fore, first for his missionary work in Lydda and Joppa and then (10:1ff.) for his pivotal role in bringing Gentiles into the koinōnia. (The first element really prepares for the second.) Previously we have seen that in the name of Jesus Peter could heal and preach. Acts now reiterates this parallelism, for the cure of Aeneas at Lydda with the command to rise echoes closely Jesus’ cure of the paralyzed man (Luke 5:24-26). Even more closely the revivification of Tabitha resembles Jesus’ action in raising the daughter of Jairus (Luke 8:49-56).14 No power has been withheld from the church, not even the power over death itself. Now, however, we are about to move beyond the parallels to Jesus’ ministry to a new area, the Gentiles. The Lucan Gospel account of Jesus began and ended in the Jerusalem Temple. What Peter does next will eventually take Christianity outside Judaism to Rome as representative of the ends of the earth.

Brief Reflections on John 10 and John 12

In the week (the Fourth of Easter) just after the lectionary offers selections from Acts 6–9, its Gospel selections are from John 10 and 12.15 We saw in Acts 6 how a divided community created the need for an administrative leadership, and how persecution drove the Hellenists out of Jerusalem to begin a mission to the Samaritan outsiders. It is quite appropriate, then, to turn to Gospel readings from John that deal with shepherding the flock and other sheep not of this fold.

Structures of authority developed gradually in the early church. Shortly after the selection of local administrators for the Hellenist Christians, James and the elders are portrayed as the leaders of the Jerusalem Hebrew Christian community. Acts 14:23 has Paul appointing presbyters in the churches, and 20:28 has him tell the presbyters of Ephesus to shepherd the flock in which the Holy Spirit has made them overseers. Reading John against that background supplies an interesting corrective of the long-term dangers inherent in such structuring. Figures given authority in the church tend to become all important in the eyes of those whom they were meant to serve; their presence is immediate, and often it seems that Jesus is reached chiefly through them and their activities. For John the immediacy of Jesus is crucially important because only he can give God’s life. At the end of the first century when the language of shepherds was widespread for those in charge of churches, the Johannine insistence that Jesus is the good or model shepherd and that all others are thieves and bandits is challenging. The sheep should heed only the divine shepherd. True, in the Johannine context the words are addressed to the Jews and so the primary attack may be on the leadership of the synagogues, but such language is bound to have a dynamism in making Christians qualify the role of their own leaders.

Later in John 21:15-17 we see a shepherding role of feeding the sheep entrusted to Simon Peter, a human being; but even then the sheep are not his—only Jesus can call them “my sheep.” The shepherding image in the OT is sometimes used to symbolize the ruling power of the king. Yet Jesus as the model shepherd does not speak of his authority or of ruling. He speaks of his intimate knowledge of his sheep and of an ability to call each by name so that they will recognize him when he leads them to pasture. Jesus speaks also of his willingness to lay down his life for the sheep lest they be snatched by the wolf. This is what makes shepherding truly pastoral. Accordingly, in chapter 21 when Simon Peter is appointed to feed the sheep, Jesus signifies how Peter will die a martyr’s death, a death that qualifies him as a shepherd according to the Good Shepherd’s standards. Thus, while for a church that has strongly articulated structure Acts supplies evidence of that necessary development as early as apostolic times, John offers a critique that helps to ensure that structure does not interfere with an immediate relationship between Jesus and the believers that is at the heart of Christianity.

John 10:16 indicates that Jesus has other sheep that are not of this fold and that he wishes to bring them into the one flock under the one shepherd. Most likely, given the distinctiveness that surrounds the Beloved Disciple (the model of the Johannine community) in the Fourth Gospel, and the constant contrast between that disciple and Simon Peter, the Johannine community was not entirely one with churches that considered the Twelve as their patrons—a situation that has some similarity to the difficult relationship between the Hebrew and Hellenist Christians in Acts. On the importance of the koinōnia or oneness of the church both Acts and John agree. As indicated in reflections above, this ideal remains of paramount importance for relationships not only among the Christian churches but even within a church like the Roman Catholic. The tendency to divide over issues must be confronted by the stated demand of Jesus to be the one shepherd over the one flock.

As we judge what is essential for unity and what are tolerable diversities, we must come back to the criterion of christology put forth by Peter in Acts when he insisted on baptism in the name of Jesus, i.e., the confession of who Jesus is. There are other essential Christian beliefs, but they must be evaluated by their interrelationship with the all-essential belief in Christ. That is harmonious with the weekday lectionary passage John 12:44-50 where Jesus states that those who believe in him are really believing in the God who sent him and that judgment will be based on such faith. Those who see Jesus and refuse belief are judging themselves. The majority of people in the world today are not Christians: They do not believe in Jesus, and indeed many can be said not to have seen him. They have their own struggle with light and darkness, and their salvation is entrusted to the all-gracious God whose ultimate goal is salvific (see 12:47). As for Christians, as we seek the grace to constitute the one flock under the one shepherd, our immediate concern must be for our fellow believers—to be sure that the faith we profess in Christ is what is demanded in Acts and John.

1 To forestall an objection, let me point out that the Hellenist branch of the Jerusalem church (e.g., Stephen) was persecuted; but Acts 8:1 maintains that in that persecution and expulsion the “apostles” were not bothered, and for Acts “apostles” refers to the Twelve (exception 14:14).

2 This James, who was not one of the Twelve, was closely connected with them, whether or not Luke would have considered him an apostle. For Paul “apostle” was a wider term and included (besides himself) a major figure like James of Jerusalem (Gal 1:19).

3 Paul, who probably knew Hebrew or Aramaic as well as Greek, considered himself a Hebrew (2 Cor 11:22; Phil 3:5) in his strict preconversional behavior as a Jew, whether or not that designation meant the same to him as it did to the author of Acts.

4 Because the verb “to wait on, serve” in Acts 6:2 is diakonein, this scene has come to be interpreted as the establishment of the first deacons. The position of the Hellenist leaders who are selected in this scene is not similar to that of the deacons described in the Pastoral Letters. If one wants to be anachronistic and apply a later ecclesiastical term to their role, these administrators would be closer to bishops than to deacons.

5 It needs to be emphasized that in the total NT picture “the Twelve” and “apostles” are not simply equatable terms even though the Twelve were also apostles. The apostles (a larger group than the Twelve as the distinction in 1 Corinthians 15:5, 7 makes lucidly clear when it distinguishes between “the Twelve” and “all the apostles”) are commissioned to proclaim the risen Lord and gather believers. In the traditional theology bishops are “successors of the apostles” (not “successors of the Twelve” as such) because they inherit the care of the churches that emerged from the apostolic mission.

6 The Jewish writer Josephus speaks of various sects of the Jews (Sadducees, Pharisees, Essenes); and presumably the believers of Jesus would have been considered another, annoying variety, even if they did not think of themselves in this category (Acts 24:14).

7 We are uncertain of the logic because the charge against Stephen in Acts 6:13 (as against Jesus in Mark and Matthew) is attributed to false witnesses. Why are the witnesses called false? Since the finale of Stephen’s defense speech seems to offer a basis for accusing him of opposition toward the Temple and having radical ideas about the Law, it is unlikely that we are meant to think that the witnesses simply invented the charge. Perhaps they may have oversimplified the causality as if Jesus (or some of the Christians) planned personally to do physical damage to the Temple.

8 Acts presents these as the risen Jesus’ words; but that must be understood correctly, for the book goes on to show that the disciples had no awareness that they had been informed of such a plan. In terms of origin most scholars would think that the material available to the author of Acts, writing some fifty years after the early evangelizing, enabled him to detect a geographical expansion; and he has used that expansion as a plan for the book. He would have looked on this procedure as discovering what Christ had willed for his church, whence the attribution of it to the risen Jesus.

9 The designation of Simon as “the Power of God called Great” sounds as if he was one of the gnostic emanations that stand between the distant, hidden God and human beings. Is the author’s categorizing him as a magus a contemptuous classification of a gnostic teacher?

10 Only the first of the three is read in the lectionary of this season between Easter and Pentecost.

11 The risen Jesus appeared on earth to the Twelve and then departed to heaven whence he now speaks to Saul. Does that mean that the author of Acts posits a qualitative difference of status between the Twelve and Paul in terms of their relationship to Christ? 1 Corinthians 15:5-8, from Paul himself, would give the impression that there was no difference in the appearances of the risen Jesus to Peter or the Twelve and the appearance to Paul (other than time: they are listed first, he is last).

12 The overlapping of the two figures helps to show that the same gospel was preached by both.

13 Having listed Judea and Samaria as the next stage after Jerusalem in 1:8, the author of Acts is careful to signpost that geographical expansion (chaps. 8–9) by mentioning Judea and Samaria in 8:1 and 9:31.

14 The order “Tabitha, rise” in Acts 9:40 is remarkably like “Talitha cum(i)” in the parallel Marcan account (5:41).

15 The Fourth Sunday of Easter, where the readings in all three cycles are from John 10, is sometimes called Good Shepherd Sunday.