You're listening to audio from Faith Church, located on the North Side Of Indianapolis. If you'd like to check out more information about our church and ministry, you can find us at faithchurchindy.com. Now, here's the teaching. It was an audacious, outrageous hope. The late summer of twenty eleven, no one expected that the Saint Louis Cardinals would make the playoffs.

Now, listen. Okay. I heard that. If you're not a baseball fan, just hang with me. And for those of you who are Cubs or Reds fans, I'll pray for you, but just hang in with me.

Okay? At the August, the Cardinals were 10 and a half games out of making the playoffs, which for those of you who are not familiar is just in incredible. Their odds of making the playoffs were estimated at less than 2%. They lost games. They were losing games that they should have been winning against weaker teams.

The the players, though, refused to give up hope. They they got together. They had a closed door players only meeting. Manager Tony LaRussa came out and said, the team that you've seen the past few weeks, I know is not the team that we have. And, and I think you'll start to see that team soon.

For some reason, the Cardinals kept on believing that they had reason to hope even when everyone else counted them out. They went on to win 23 of their last 32 games. They set a record for comebacks after a 30 games into the season. They won their playoffs. They went all the way to the World Series where they played the Rangers.

They were down three games to two in the sixth game and came within one strike of losing that game in the series two different times. And yet, each time, they refused to give up. They kept believing they could win. They scored in the eighth inning, the ninth inning to tie it up. They scored in the tenth inning, and then a home run-in the eleventh inning to win the sixth game of the World Series.

They went on the next night to beat the Rangers and become the world's champions. The Cardinals carried off one of the greatest comebacks in sports history. So you can applaud. I mean, this is this is genuinely impressive. Yeah.

Alright. Alright. We we love everyone here. It's okay. Somehow, the Cardinals and their manager continued to believe that they had reason for hope, And and that hope became kind of infectious, even when nobody else around them seemed to believe it.

People were surprised that such competent, experienced, level headed, intelligent people could have that kind of hope. It it seemed crazy. It seemed almost offensive to some people. Well, we're continuing our series in the book of Acts, looking at this history that Luke has written of the work of the Holy Spirit through God's people, the first followers of Jesus, the difference that it made in their lives, how that message of Jesus spread to the known world, and how we're still part of that story today. If you haven't already, you can go ahead and turn in your bibles to Acts chapter 26.

If you have the Acts scripture journals, it's on page, 150 or page eleven eleven of the black Bibles in the seats underneath in front of you. There is something about hope that sometimes takes people by surprise, can can sometimes almost seem offensive, especially when it feels like that hope defies logic or reason or, any of the number of the things that we're told know, we we should give deference to, we should submit to. And the passage that we're looking at today, the speech of the apostle Paul before, King Agrippa and the governor of Festus is a case in point. We're gonna see over these next couple of weeks in chapter 26 of Acts how Paul makes his case, in in a way that utterly baffles his listeners. Doesn't seem to make any sense to them.

Paul's argument that we're gonna be looking at over these coming weeks is, first, talking about how he was an enemy of hope. And then how he demonstrates how the hope of Jesus changed him. And then finally, making an appeal to the people who are hearing him to put their faith and their trust in the same hope of Jesus. But today, we're just looking at that first section, these 11 verses. This picture that Paul gives us of a life apart from, a life hostile to hope, which actually becomes his defense of hope.

That's what we wanna see today. Well, Paul finally gets his chance to share his faith in Jesus, to tell his story. It's a crowd that includes, the Roman governor Festus, who's had him in prison, King Agrippa, who has showed up with his sister slash wife, Bernice. Paul told us last time it includes all the prominent people in Caesarea, the military leaders, the businessmen, the, you know, the cocktail party class of Caesarea, of of Roman society. And, Agrippa and Bernice walk in, we were told last time, with great pomp.

Someone asked me last time, is that a Star Wars character? It sounds like somebody Lucas a name Lucas would come up with. Right? Sorry. Bad dad joke.

Anyway, it's it's a grand event. It it's a big gathering. And the first hearing that Paul had had back in, the beginning of chapter 25, I remember, it had gotten kind of bogged down with wrangling and defenses and and arguments and, Paul appealing to Caesar, which is what is going to happen. Paul is going to be sent to Rome to stand trial there. So this is not deciding his fate.

That's that's already a done deal. This is Paul's opportunity to sort of give an explanation for why he's in prison and to give the governor an opportunity to hear something from this guy that will let him have something to say to Caesar about why he's sending this guy to him. So Paul is essentially given, a blank slate, carte blanche, to kind of say whatever he wants. So that's where we pick up the story in verse one, where, Festus has made this big long, you know, kind of speech about Agrippa and how impressive and how wonderful he is and and gives the floor over to Agrippa who says to Paul, you have permission to speak for yourself. Then Paul stretched out his hand to make his defense.

Now it's interesting, first of all, how Agrippa words this invitation. You have permission to speak for yourself. Everyone there, including Agrippa, thinks that this is all about Paul, about him. That's often the case for us as Christians when we're trying to talk about the faith that we have in Jesus. No matter how you do it, people think that it's really a message about you.

And that's why people will often respond to messages of the gospel saying like, well, that's your opinion. Or or maybe that's true for you or I'm glad if that works for you or if you found hope in that way. But whatever you do, you're not supposed to claim that what you're sharing is a truth that applies to anything beyond yourself. For unbelieving westerners, for most westerners really, faith is a very personal private thing. The the world is okay with us speaking for ourselves, for what we happen to believe for us, but we're not supposed to imply that we're speaking a truth that would apply to everyone else.

Likewise, Agrippa believes that he's here to listen to Paul, to hear, you know, Paul, well, tell us whatever you want us to know. Speak for yourself, Paul. Luke also, notes that Paul stood up to make his defense. Now, having said it's not a judicial hearing, it's it's kind of an interesting way for Luke to phrase it. Right?

He's not supposed to be making a defense of his behavior. He's not supposed to be justifying himself in that way. The word there is, which is where we get our word apology or apologetics. And an apology in this sense is not, making excuses. It's a rationale.

It's a defense. He's here to explain what got him in this situation, and and Luke knows that Paul stretches out his hand and and starts to speak. You know, it's it's just kind of a classic demonstration of, in antiquity. When you see this in Roman statues, right, of emperors or politicians, they're standing with a toga on and posing like this. It's it's essentially saying, okay, I'm the speaker now, so pay attention to me.

So Paul addresses the the new guy in the room in verses two and three. I consider myself fortunate that it is before you, oh, King Agrippa, that I make my defense today against all the accusations of the Jews, especially because you are familiar with all the customs and controversies of the Jews. Therefore, I beg you to listen to me patiently. It's kind of ironic, almost humorous, if you remember any of the background we talked about of who Agrippa is. He's culturally Jewish, but he's not religious at all.

His life is just an ongoing scandal even by the low standards that the Romans had for morality. In what situation do we ever consider ourselves fortunate to get to talk to irreligious, morally scandalous people? Even if he's not an observant Jew, though, Agrippa is familiar with Jewish customs, and yet he also grew up in Rome. So he's Jewish enough to know sort of the local controversies in politics, but he's also Roman enough to not be swept in swept up in it. It it's kinda like the way most of us as Americans view soccer.

Right? Like, we we know the idea is to get the ball in the net at the other end of the field, but it's not really our thing. Right? So we're just we're not that invested in it. It's like I'm I'm glad for you, and and you can sort of stand outside and observe it, objectively.

Look at how Paul states his defense. He he starts in verse four. My my manner of life from my youth spent from the beginning among my own nation and in Jerusalem is known by all the Jews. They've known for a long time. If they're willing to testify according, according to the strictest party of our religion, I've lived as a Pharisee.

So again, Paul is saying, okay. I I'm, have a Roman citizenship, but I'm also a Jew who grew up in what is modern day Turkey. And so, it's interesting. When he when he talks about my nation, he could be talking about the Roman world. He could be talking about Cilicia, this province in modern day Turkey.

He could be talking about the Jewish people. I think he's making a a common connection there with Agrippa, who is sort of similar. Right? He he has sort of a ambiguous, broad, almost global, you could say, background. And Paul is saying, hey.

We we have something in common here. I I get it. I get who you are and and what you're what you're like. It's a good starting point for us as we try to talk to other people about Jesus. I we have something in common.

Paul goes on to say, essentially then, my my life is an open book. Everyone knows all these things about me. None of this was done in secret. And I think the implication there is, in other words, followers of Jesus, Christians, are we're not part of a secret society. It's not a private club.

We're we're not hiding in the shadows. You're you're welcome to investigate. You're welcome to explore anything you want to know about Jesus or about the Christian faith. There's no secret inner circle, where certain people aren't allowed to go. And and by saying, I'm a lifelong Pharisee, he's painting a picture to this King Agrippa of his background.

Because Agrippa will know that being a Pharisee means Paul was raised in a conservative Jewish home that that believes in the Torah, as well as in the prophets and in the hope of resurrection. And that's the point, Paul says, that got him into trouble. Look in verse six. I'm here on trial because of my hope in the promise that God made to our fathers, to which our 12 tribes hope to attain as they earnestly worship day and night. And for this hope, I'm accused by the Jews, o king.

Why is it thought incredible by any of you that God raises the dead? Those three verses and that question are at the heart of Paul's arguments, and we we wanna spend some time there. Just a couple of observations. First, notice that Paul doesn't defend himself. He wants to make the issue the heart of the Christian faith, the belief in the resurrection.

I think that's really practical and helpful for us. I think we as believers sometimes feel like, you know, if we're if we're getting into a conversation where we get to share the hope that we have in Jesus, we feel like we need to defend ourselves instead of focusing on what Jesus has done. Or maybe we need to, you know, defend the church or defend all the history of all its wrongs as opposed to explaining why we have hope in Jesus. But secondly, Paul makes this wild statement that he's on trial for hope. I mean, he's saying, hope is what I'm accused of.

Hope is my crime. Seems to be a weird thing to be in trouble for, right? To to be a hopeful person? Because in principle, Paul's not saying anything different than the Pharisees who were attacking him, who also believe in the resurrection. And yet, look at what Paul goes on to say about what his life, his former life as another Pharisee, looked like.

Verse nine, I myself was convinced that I ought to do many things opposing the name of Jesus. I did so in Jerusalem. I locked them up in prison. When they were put to death, I cast my vote against them. I I punished them in the synagogues.

I tried to make them blaspheme in fury against them. I even went to foreign cities to persecute them. What's fascinating here, at one level, is just that Paul is confessing to crimes that are more serious than what he was actually on trial for. I mean, he said, I locked up people unjustly. I handed out death sentences.

I had people punished and beaten. And I tried to get them to reject their faith. I wasn't just trying to break them, punish them physically. I wanted to break their spirit. I wanted them to kill their hope.

I wanted them to despair in the same way that I used to despair and live hopelessly. Paul is saying I was an enemy of hope, not just hope in general, but specifically of Christian hope. It's strange because nothing about the gospel, nothing about what we proclaim about Jesus is crazy based on what we all kind of know and believe deep down, that the world is a hard and painful place, that we are all sinful, broken people who don't live up even to our own standards, much less God's. That we're all going to eventually die, and we're all going to give an answer for our lives. So you would think that a message that offers hope into all of those realities would be good news that people would want to hear and receive, right?

So why is it that it was so offensive to Paul and offensive now to the people that he's sharing the hope he's come to have to claim that Jesus is alive? Why does the hope and the promise of Jesus' resurrection offend people, make them defensive? Talking about Jesus' life principles, His moral teachings, you get no arguments. You know, if you wanna have a debate about what would Jesus do, that's fine. But start talking about resurrection as a reality that has an impact on my life.

And people will think you're foolish, people will think you're weird, people will think you're crazy. I think that's why Paul is saying, That's the hope that I'm on trial for. Why? Why does it seem offensive, confrontational, angering? A couple of observations.

First, it's because Christian hope is specific. Christian hope is specific. Hope is is really, you know, very ill defined in most contexts. Right? And and people end up assuming that biblical hope is also kind of vague and amorphous out there somewhere.

Many of you are old enough to remember in in 02/2008 when Barack Obama was campaigning for president. And, he, famously had posters in his campaign that that featured sort of an artistic depiction of his face and just one word underneath it said hope. And and I remember seeing that and and thinking, what what does that mean? Is he hope? Is he offering us hope?

What is the hope that he's offering? What is the hope for? And I mean, that's that's fine as a marketing strategy. I mean, obviously, it worked. It was very compelling.

Advertisers like to sell hope. It's a good word to use. But it can also be kind of vague and meaningless. It can be just a vessel that we can pour almost anything into. Right?

But when you define hope, when you connect it to a specific person, that's when people can get kind of cynical and suspicious. And even though Paul doesn't name Jesus in the passage we're looking at today, it's obviously who he's aiming towards, who he's talking about. And Paul is already laying the groundwork to say God wants you to have hope. You were made for hope. But not just vague, amorphous hope generally, but hope in a person, hope in Jesus Christ and in what He has done.

Christian hope is specific and personal. Christian hope is often offensive because it's also certain. We claim a certainty about Christian hope. Paul believes that the resurrection has already started with Jesus walking out of the tomb on Easter morning. And that's a big difference between Paul and the Pharisees that He used to be a part of.

Right? It's not the resurrection as an idea that they were opposed to, but the insistence that Paul said the resurrection is about Jesus, that the hope of eternal life is about Jesus. Certainty can feel offensive. It can feel distancing, even confrontational to people. Because we use the phrase I hope when we're actually uncertain of an outcome, right?

I hope the Cardinals win the World Series again. I hope my taxes don't go up. I hope politicians in Washington make good decisions, right? Like we use hope when when we don't really believe in the outcome necessarily, right? Something against the odds.

That's not Biblical hope. Biblical hope is about a past reality, the resurrection of Jesus, and a future certainty, The resurrection of people who believe in Him, which changes my life in the present. And when you talk about hope that way, with strong confidence, it makes people uncomfortable. It makes people feel like they're being attacked somehow. People aren't offended about the idea of eternal life in general.

They don't like it if you're certain about it. Christian hope is certain. And finally, Christian hope is real. I think probably the the most serious problem is that people resent hope in others, especially when they don't share that hope. When somebody believes, when somebody knows that something good is going to happen and you don't share their confidence, that disagreement can often turn into contempt and resentment.

We despise what seems like ridiculous faith in others. We we can become cynical and and jaded. How many of you saw the Lego movie? Everyone in my family should be raising their hand. Yes.

And but good. Well, it's a good good movie if you haven't watched it. There's, a character, in the movie called Princess Unikitty. Remember Princess Unikitty? Appropriately named because she's part unicorn and part kitten.

And the main characters go to visit where she lives and she exclaims, there are no rules. There's no government, no babysitters, no bedtimes, no frowny faces, no bushy mustaches, no negativity of any kind. At which one of, point one of the characters says, you just said no like a thousand times. And princess Unikitty said, and no consistency. And she said, here, any idea is a good idea except the non happy ones.

Those we push down deep inside where you'll never ever ever find them. It's great. Right? Is it any mystery why the place where she lives is called Cloud Cuckoo Land? Right?

It's fantastical. It's impossible. It's ridiculous. And in characters like that, hope can just seem fake. It's unbelievable.

It's not credible. It's not real. Thought incredible by any of you that God raises the dead? If there's a God who exists, a God who created us, a God who made us to know Him, why would it be hard to believe that that God could raise the dead? Why would it be unbelievable that He wants us to know a certain hope in knowing Him?

Hope offends because Christians have a hope that we say everyone should have and is the hope that's available for everyone. But it's certain, it's specific, and it's real. You know, positive thinking is okay, Even if it, you know, can be a little bit annoying or seems silly. But a specific person actually raised from the dead is more personal and more demanding than we often like. Because if Jesus really is alive, that has huge life altering implications for me and for everyone.

My beliefs, my choices, my preferences, my decisions. And it almost seems harmful and offensive in some ways because it seems like it almost promises too much. Because the the Christian hope is saying Jesus is only the beginning. In a in a sense, I think part of why this hope seems offensive is because it seems too good to be true. It can't be that simple.

It can't be free. It can't be that transforming. It can't be that certain. And so there's this part of us that feels the need to shout it down, to squash it, and we become enemies of hope. It's not just non Christians.

I think we struggle with this as believers too, don't we? My theology says, God opens the eyes of the blind. He heals the sick. He rains down manna from heaven. But I struggle to believe He's gonna give me what I need this week.

Like me, you can struggle to believe that God's gonna change difficult people or fix broken relationships or do anything unexpected in your life. Right? Like, I can believe in Jesus for my eternity. It's just this traffic mess that I'm not sure I can trust him in. When our kids were little, you know, one or more of them would express, some kind of a wild hope.

One day I'll play in the NBA. Maybe we can go to Disneyland this year. I'm gonna be a superstar genius scientist. And And I say, Well, you know, it's a nice dream, but that's probably not gonna happen. And they say, Well, but maybe, and come up with maybe even a more unplausible idea.

And it was almost like I felt like it was my job as a parent to, like, burst their bubble. Like, come on. You guys gotta be real. You gotta be realistic. That that's not gonna happen.

And maybe their hopes were unrealistic. But were they any crazier than resurrection? Were they any crazier than believing that God actually raised his son from the dead and it's by faith in him that we can be forgiven, that we can have life, that we can be reconciled to him, and that God could actually change us from the inside out? That's an amazing, audacious hope. If God raises the dead, how can I be hopeless?

I think that's what Paul is wanting to drive us towards today. If God raises the dead, how can I be hopeless? And the reality of my life, not like just for eternity, but like what Thursday actually looks like, or or when that difficult person shows up, or when the boss is demanding and impatient again, or when the thing doesn't happen that I was praying for. I I wanna suggest this is this is where Paul is driving us today, to recognize maybe there's more of us that doesn't live with real hope than we would admit. Maybe for some of you, like me, in a lot of ways, the hope of the gospel is more theoretical than practical.

Maybe that's why we have a hard time feeling comfortable sharing it with our neighbors because we struggle to see that there's a real hope for my actual life as it's lived out day to day and, and people can see through fake hope. And it's not because God is saying you should have hope in anything or hope for everything, but we can be hopeful in everything. That's the hope of Jesus. Where do you struggle to be hopeful? Where do you struggle to remain hopeful?

How about us as a church? Do we reflect the amazing optimism and confidence and joy that comes from the hope of Jesus? Are we known for our hope? I mean, I love hearing when visitors come in and say, oh, you guys are welcoming and you're warm and, or, you know, I'm I'm attracted to the the compelling mission that you have. Of all the things that a visitor might notice, is hope high on that list?

What a great thing to be known for. Apostle Peter writes in one of his letters, always be prepared to make a defense a defense to anyone who asks you for the reason for the hope that is in you. Do this with gentleness and respect, he says. But it sounds like Peter is expecting the people he's writing to will be known for hopefulness, for confidence, that hope will be so obvious in these followers of Jesus that others will want to know, why are you so hopeful? What a beautiful thing to want to grow and to want to reflect, especially in a season of uncertainty and anxiety and transition?

Why are you all so positive and hopeful in the middle of a pastoral transition? When everything in the world is so crazy and uncertain and unsettled, when there's so much anger and division in the world, why are you so hopeful? If God raises the dead, I can't be hopeless. And the best thing is that resurrection hope is is not a gift for those who wish hard enough for it. It's not a reward for devotion or loyalty or faithfulness.

Resurrection hope is ours in Jesus because he is faithful. We don't have hope because of our faithfulness. The hope is certain because Jesus has finished the work, and he's promised that in fact he will complete the work that he has started in you. Biblical hope is not Hallmark movie hope. It's not an inspirational phrase that you hang on the wall next to your, you know, live, love, laugh poster.

Resurrection hope is already ours, whether we feel it at any given time or not, because it's not about us. It's about what Jesus has done. If God raises the dead, you cannot be hopeless. So let's act like it. Let's be guilty of the charge of excessive hope in Jesus that would flow out from us in a way that we have something to share with the people around us who are so longing for a message of hope.

Let me pray for us. Father, thank you that as your word says, you are the God of all hope. Not some vague, shadowy, Oh, I wish it's gonna happen kind of thing. Not even a feeling, but but a certainty. Oh, Father, we acknowledge ways that we we don't experience that, we don't live like it as much as you want us to, as much as we long to.

Lord, help us to hope. Teach us to hope that we would overflow with confidence in what Jesus has done, that people would see hope in us. Thank you, Father, for your mercy and your strength and your renewal even when we don't feel like it and live like these things are true. Help us to live with that assurance as well. Thank you for your gospel, for the good news of Jesus, for his death and resurrection, for his reigning and ruling, and the hope of his return.

Thank you. We We pray in Jesus' name. Amen.