O arquivo vivo está a carregar.
Continue a explorar
Ligados pela passagem bíblica ou por temas comuns.
Esta página ainda não foi totalmente traduzida. Parte ou a totalidade do texto abaixo é apresentada em English, o idioma original.
We're looking at Acts 2, beginning at verse 37. Peter, now filled with the Holy Spirit, is preaching with power and authority. The ruach—the wind, the breath of God—has rested upon the believers. Tongues of fire came down on those 120 in the upper room, and now Peter speaks fire.
Peter's journey has been remarkable. He's moved from the charcoal fire where he denied Jesus three times, to the beach where Jesus reinstated him, asking "Do you love me?" three times. That smell of shame became a reminder of grace. Every morning, the sound of a rooster would remind Peter not of his failure, but of God's kindness. And now, filled with the Holy Spirit, Peter says:
"Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. The promise is for you and your children, and all who are far off, for all whom the Lord our God will call."
"With many other words, he warned them, and he pleaded with them, 'Save yourselves from this corrupt generation.'"
And the results were extraordinary: 3,000 people were baptized that day. The church grew from 120 to 3,000. If you have a problem with mega churches, take it up with Acts 2—this was the first mega church.
But what happened next reveals the true character of the early church:
"Those who accepted his message were baptized, and about 3,000 were added to their number that day. And they devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching, and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread, and to prayer."
That Greek word—proskartereo—means stubborn, sustained, ongoing commitment. It's the kind of devotion that doesn't waver. It's relentless.
I saw this devotion embodied recently in my own family. We spent a week in Swanage, and my eldest son Noah had an absolute stubborn commitment to being in the water. Whether it was the sea, the lake, or the river, he was devoted to it. He wanted to learn. He wanted to swim beyond the shallow end. And as devoted as he was to exploring the water, my wife and I were equally devoted to his safety.
Where we devote ourselves, things flourish and grow. I met Jonny Wilkinson at Twickenham a while back—got a rugby ball signed by him—and I became devoted to becoming the best goal kicker I could be.
What are you devoted to this week? What are you stubborn about? What won't you move for anything else because you're so committed to it?
But here's what I want to say with gentleness this morning: before you were ever devoted to God, He was devoted to you.
Some of you might be questioning things right now. You might be wondering if you even believe anymore. Maybe you're watching online thinking, "I'm not sure I have faith." I want you to know—I've been there. Life gets noisy. We go on holiday, don't pick up the Bible for three days, and realize our affection has drifted in a completely different direction.
But Jesus came. He lived a perfect life. He was broken on the cross for our stuff, our sin, our shame, our greatest regrets. He stepped into that space for us so we might have relationship with God, freedom from our past, purpose in the present, and hope for the future.
Three days later, He broke the death penalty. He broke through what seemed final. He made it possible for us to know life beyond this life. And here's the truth: the gospel is not first about our devotion to Him; it's about His devotion to us.
When Rachel and I watched our boys in the sea, the real reason our eyes kept returning to them wasn't about us—they didn't even know we were watching. But they are ours. And God says the same about you. He is devoted to you. No matter how far away you're feeling, He welcomes you back.
"All the believers were together and had everything in common. They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching, and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread, and to prayer."
They were devoted to the living, breathing word of God. That is our GPS for life. That is our manual. That is the answer to all of life's biggest questions.
I sometimes think we treat the Bible like a book we put on a shelf and pick up only when it suits us. But imagine if my wife Rachel sent me a voice note every morning with important information for my day, and I ignored it. I would miss our relationship. I would miss the connection.
God wants us to get connected into His word. The world needs His word right now. We need to be people of truth, people who care about Scripture.
I have a sense that one or two of you—your Bible is hiding somewhere in your house. You know if that's for you. Go and find it. The apostles didn't even have the New Testament, but we do. We have the words of Jesus in our hands.
They were also devoted to prayer. Over the last five weeks, we did a prayer and fasting journey through Acts. We worked through all 28 chapters, and I reminded everyone: we are like a 29th chapter of Acts. The Acts continues in and through us. So much of Acts is covered in prayer.
Personally, as a family, we've been asking: how can we make prayer more normal? On holiday, we started simply asking, "What are we thankful for?" And do you know what happens when you thank God for small things? Your heart begins to expand. You begin to have greater affection for the things of this world.
I've also been thinking about prayer differently lately. A few weeks ago, I broke my ankle and have been in a moon boot. But the Lord spoke to me: "Have you noticed there are a lot more people with injuries?" It's like when you buy a certain car and suddenly see it everywhere. Since my injury, I've had a renewed passion to pray for healing.
I bumped into a man on Wandsworth Bridge Road with an ankle brace. He told me he'd been in a boot for five years following a motorbike accident. I chatted with him, told him what we're doing, and then I asked if I could pray for him. We don't know what happens unless we pray.
Last week, when Bruce and Sharon were with us, people were praying for their friends over the phone—friends not even physically present. That's the kind of faith I want to live with. Some of you have given up on praying for family members. But we sow seeds; the Lord waters them when He wants to. You may have been praying for someone for years and forgotten about it, but they came to faith through someone else. We just keep praying. We don't give up. Never cease praying.
"All the believers were together and had everything in common."
They were devoted to fellowship—koinonia in Greek. It means a shared life. It means shared burdens and shared joy. It means family. It means doing life together.
Notice that in Acts 2, God-fearing Jews from every nation gathered together. On the day of Pentecost, the 120 were filled with the Spirit and began to speak in different languages. Why? Because God needed to get His message across to people from every race, every tongue, every language.
This is what our church looks like. Different cultures, different backgrounds, different stories. Some of you come from Windsor. Some from Camberwell. Some came from Romania last Sunday evening to receive prayer and were dramatically impacted. What connects us is Jesus.
Someone recently finished our Alpha course and said to me, "I've really enjoyed this. I wouldn't have necessarily seen these people as friends at the beginning, but I don't want to stop. Can we meet weekly, eat together, read the Bible together, and pray for each other?" I said, "That's exactly what we call groups."
If you're not in a group, please don't do life alone. It's really hard. Deep down, we're all hungry for community. We're hungry to go through the good, the bad, and the ugly with one another.
A while back, Rachel was away for about 24 hours for a spa retreat. It was her first time away in seven years. But in those 24 hours, everything fell apart. Our youngest, Caleb, had a terrible accident and was bleeding heavily. I'm not great with blood—I sometimes faint. I was terrified and alone.
I ran to the doorbell of our neighbors, the Cantlons, who are colleagues here. They saw the commotion on their ring doorbell, dropped everything at Sainsbury's, and came running. By the time they arrived, seven neighbors were around us calling the ambulance. A woman came and said, "I'm a neurosurgeon. He's going to be okay." We went straight to the hospital, and the Cantlons looked after our other children and tidied the house.
That's community. Being in the mess of life together. I would have been in serious trouble on my own. Do you have that type of community around you?
I think the greatest sign of wonder in Acts 2 might not be the wind and the fire. It might be that 3,000 strangers became family. There are about 120 of us here this morning. Don't be a stranger to each other. Be family. You're brothers and sisters in Christ.
I see so many of you quietly being faithful, caring for one another, supporting each other. Over the last couple of weeks, it's been remarkable to see the church come together to support a family in real need.
D.L. Moody was once asked what the Christian life needed. He took a burning coal from a fire and placed it alone. Slowly, that coal went cold. The lesson was simple: We were never meant to burn alone. We were meant to be together.
"All the believers were together and had everything in common. Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he had need."
They were devoted to generosity. They weren't operating with a 10% tithing mindset. They were sharing proceeds. They were giving freely. They were meeting each other's needs in every single moment—financially and beyond. This is what devotion does. It changes our character so that we're marked by joy, marked by generosity, marked by freedom.
I remember as a teenager, my dad wanted to get me a car. He couldn't afford one, but my uncle offered us his Daihatsu sport truck. It wasn't necessarily a massive gesture from my dad—it was from my uncle—but it was the most incredible gift. It was kindness made visible.
I don't know if you have a third car knocking around that you need to give away. Maybe not in London. But you might have stuff gathering dust that you don't need anymore. What does it mean for you not to hold on to things?
This morning, as I was praying, I felt the Lord prompt me to do something. I don't know what it will lead to, but I felt Him say, "Put some money down." Someone here knows exactly who you are. You're desperate right now. This is for you. Come grab it at the end, and who knows what might be added.
Finally, they were devoted to His presence. Look at verse 43:
"Everyone was filled with awe."
What would it look like to be filled with awe and wonder again?
Last week, we saw a glimpse of that. Bruce was sharing, and he said, "Some of you are going to be drunk on wine, but you're going to be drunk on the Holy Spirit." And I thought, "What's that like?"
I received prayer in a way I haven't for a long time. As three men were trying to pick me up and couldn't—I'm heavier than I think—one of them said, "James, maybe God's just got more for you. You just need to be in awe in His presence."
I was so taken aback. The God of the universe was working in me, lying down, and it didn't matter. There was a praise party happening around me. I was just there, in awe and wonder of what God was doing and who He is.
Earlier, Caroline had a picture. There was a dam, and we had put our finger in it to prevent the water breaking through—to create safety. But it's time to release. Any area where we're feeling like we have to have control—let the water flow again. Let the river flow. It's what Jesus has for us.
"The Lord added to their number daily those who are being saved."
It's not about fear. It's about people being drawn toward Him. And it's not because of us—I forget that a lot of the time. And I think that's part of the gift, because it's not about us.
A few weeks ago at 5:00 a.m., I was in an Uber heading to a retreat. I'm not great at 5:00 a.m. conversations, but I got talking with the driver, who'd had a bad week. I asked if I could pray for him. I didn't think anything of it.
Then on Vision Sunday, this man somehow found our church. He brought his girlfriend. This is what being in awe of God is about. Being drawn into relationship with Jesus, the King of Kings.
We have that authority. We have that anointing. We just have to pray. We just have to commit ourselves.
What would having a devoted life look like for you?
Lord, restore our wonder. Restore our awe in You. In who You are. In what You want to do.
