You’re looking pretty good—for being almost 2,000 years old.
Today we remember how we went from being self-quarantined cowards hiding in an upper room to being bold as lions—bolder—bold as street preachers.
We went from hunkering in silence to carrying the Gospel of Jesus Christ to the uttermost parts of the earth. You’ve heard of Him, because of what happened to them, back then.
About ten days before it happened, He said, the thing we most hate to hear. Wait.
I’m reminded at how much I hate to wait at every red light. Nevertheless, He said it. Thankfully they did it. They went into an upper room and waited. And waited. And waited.
After His resurrection, He showed up time and again for about 40 days. I suppose, they figured, He’d do it again.
He told them to wait until they were endued with Power.
So. They. Waited. Even though they weren’t even sure what exactly they were waiting for.
But, after about 10 days, they must’ve worked through all their differences, their guesses about what they thought would happen, and they settled into a place Jesus had prayed we’d all reach, a place the Bible calls, one accord.
Then, just like that, suddenly the place shook and fire fell as if tongues of fire hovered over each of them and just like that, they went from chickens to lions.
Their outward circumstances did not change one iota. But they sure did.
The elite still wanted them silenced. The government that crucified Jesus was still in power.
But that didn’t matter anymore.
Well, because. What happened to them was like what would happen to us, if we saw an enemy approaching with sticks and stones and suddenly we realized we held a stick, too. Only our stick was DYNAMITE.
That’s not advocating blowing up people. I never said people. I said enemy. We have an enemy and it isn’t people. It isn’t flesh and blood. We have an invisible enemy and blowing up his schemes and plans is exactly what we’re to do.
As a matter of fact, that’s what Jesus was talking about when He chose the words, “endued with Power.”
Endued is the Greek word, enduo; ἐνδύω; (en-doo'-o). It means to clothe or be clothed with (in the sense of sinking into a garment).
Think about that word for a moment. Jesus must’ve smiled when He said it; perhaps a tear of joy slid down His cheek. I can’t imagine it didn’t, considering, He’d longed for this moment since the beginning, when He found us, ashamed, scared, naked and hiding.
He made clothes to cover our naked body. Then, watched as we walked away from the perfect garden home He’d made us. Perhaps He shed a tear then too, knowing those clothes would do nothing to cover our exposed soul.
Like the prodigal’s father, from that moment to this, He never stopped yearning, never stopped searching, never stopped preparing for this moment.
It’s a moment any good parent would take. In a heartbeat they’d step in harm’s way and take the place of their child.
It’s just what He did.
The moment He’d been waiting for finally came. He allowed Himself to be stripped, exposed and naked.
It sounds crazy, but it pleased Him to do it. It was part of His plan.
Because, He knew, the enemy was holding sticks and stones, that can only break bones, but He Himself was dynamite that pierces through bones clear to the soul.
Perhaps that’s why when He said, we’d “be endued with power,” the word He used for power, is dunamis, δύναμις, εως, ἡ, translated: (miraculous) power, might, strength.
You can guess, it’s where we get the word, dynamite.
Once inside the enemy’s lair, He blew off the doors and set the captives free.
He ripped the veil that separated His children. To this day, He still holds out clothes to cover our naked soul and invites us back into His Garden Home.
Just as the prodigal’s father, ran to his son, put a ring on his finger and a robe on his back; God so loved and longed for this moment that He swept in like a mighty rushing wind with tongues of fire that sat on them, like a great big embrace, a hug and a kiss and endued (clothed) them with His Spirit that had been stripped from them way back in the Garden.
I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty sure I can hear heaven singing, Happy Birthday to you.
Happy Birthday Church. Aren't you glad you're not still just wearing your birthday suit?