They rejoiced. It is written that they rejoiced. They were glad.
You might wonder what’s surprising about that. They had probably experienced something exciting.
Except they didn’t. They weren’t rejoicing because they had experienced some kind of miracle or because they were having a great day. It wasn’t too long after Jesus’ ascension, the disciples preached about Jesus the Messiah all over Jerusalem, and they were thrown into prison for it. Then, in the middle of the night, an angel appeared and released them, and they went straight to the temple and continued preaching the Good News, and then were brought in again (Acts 5:17-42).
No, that is not when they were rejoicing. The story goes on: The elders of Israel were talking about killing them, but thanks to a great speech given by one of their elders, they were let go. Before they were let go, they were beaten, flogged.
Imagine this: You are thrown into prison for proclaiming Jesus to be the Savior, then you are miraculously released and go and do the same thing again, and are brought in again. Then, after some discussion about whether you should be put to death or not, you are let go, but before that, they have you beaten up. How would you feel?
So yeah, that’s when it happened: They went and rejoiced.
They rejoiced, because “they were counted worthy to suffer dishonor for the name” (Acts 5:41 ESV) They rejoiced, because someone persecuted and assaulted them because they were following Jesus. They thought the flogging to be an honor.
I find this to be a one of the high points of the story, despite the fact that an angel miraculously freed them from prison. You know why? Because it would be so absolutely human to be depressed, devestated, or without hope after being beaten. They could question why Jesus would let something like this happen, why they would be able to heal people but they themselves get flogged, and why Jesus doesn’t come back and end their suffering.
But instead, they rejoiced, because they considered being flogged an honor. If it hasn’t sunk in yet, then please read this again: They rejoiced, because they considered being flogged an honor.
To be honest, I doubt that I would have an attitude like that. In fact, I must be missing something, because I find it hard to even understand an attitude like that. If I were in their position, I would probably be questioning my decision to preach the Gospel, or whether Jesus truly is what I think Him to be. Since we’re being honest here: I am sometimes ashamed to just speak up about Jesus, to say that I am a Christian, because of what people might think about me. In our culture, it’s not considered honorable to be a follower of Jesus. Rather, it seems to be frowned upon.
So I don’t speak up. I let that shame take over, instead of proudly saying that I follow Jesus. I prefer the comfort of acceptance by people around me. My life is perfectly safe if I talk about Jesus, but sometimes I choose not to talk about Him. I am convicted of such little faith.
I think of the brothers and sisters all across the globe who suffer because they follow Jesus, and I wonder how they do it. I wonder how they find the strength and the stamina to endure persecution, assault, and exclusion. I wonder how they endure losing their families, turning their backs on everything and everyone they know, because of Jesus. For Jesus.
There must be something I don’t fully comprehend, for if I would, I’d be bolder.
When I am afraid to lose face, they face losing families, safety, health, or even their lives.
I think that I am missing something, because I don’t know if I would pay such a price to follow Jesus. If it would get too uncomfortable for me, I might abandon my faith. I pray I wouldn’t.
But that’s exactly it: We are too comfortable to truly need Jesus. Maybe I don’t understand because my life is too comfortable. Maybe the secret is that I don’t have to make that choice, and therefore I don’t willingly do it.
The thing is: Following Jesus is not about comfort or appearance. Following Jesus has a price.
Being ridiculed, belittled, or frowned upon is one of the smallest prices to pay, because they don’t affect my basic existence and what I believe are human rights.
So I go down on my knees, and pray for boldness and faith, I pray for a change of heart, and that I will consider it an honor.
If we don’t make enemies because of our faith, we aren’t doing it right. If we would boldly proclaim Jesus, there is someone who is out to get us. Proclaiming and professing Jesus is uncomfortable, because there is someone who wants it to be uncomfortable.
Sometimes, comfort prevents us from making the right decision. I know that comfort has prevented me many times from making the right decision.
So here I am, on my knees, confessing to my reoccuring preference to earthly comfort over Jesus.
I pray that I will always remember to delight in God’s grace, whether comfortable or not.
That when I decide for Jesus over comfort, I will find comfort in Jesus.
That I will always rejoice, no matter what I walk out of.
