Did Paul Compromise in Acts 21?

In Acts 21, Paul returns to Jerusalem with good news:

The next day Paul and the rest of us went to see James, and all the elders were present. Paul greeted them and reported in detail what God had done among the Gentiles through his ministry.

Acts 21:18-19 (NIV)

After praising God, James and the others reveal that Paul’s preaching hasn’t gone unnoticed:

You see, brother, how many thousands of Jews have believed, and all of them are zealous for the law. They have been informed that you teach all the Jews who live among the Gentiles to turn away from Moses, telling them not to circumcise their children or live according to our customs.

Acts 21:20-21 (NIV)

They present Paul with a solution:

Take these men, join in their purification rites and pay their expenses, so that they can have their heads shaved. Then everyone will know there is no truth in these reports about you, but that you yourself are living in obedience to the law.

Acts 21:24 (NIV)

Was this the right choice? Weren’t they giving in to the Jews instead of sticking to the truth?

What Will You Say on Judgment Day?

In the last twenty years, I’ve heard a lot about what people will say on Judgment Day, from questions about suffering to people who plan to give God a “piece of their minds,” claiming “God has a lot to answer for.” My favorite might be “God cannot judge me, for His sins outnumber my own.”

I don’t know who coined that phrase, but it encompasses how those who know nothing about God feel. It also reminds me of something Stephen Fry once said:

“Bone cancer in children? What’s that about?” “How dare you create a world in which there is such misery that is not our fault?” “Why should I respect a capricious, mean-minded, stupid God who creates a world so full of injustice and suffering?”

Stephen Fry on God

Whenever I hear anyone talk about what they’ll say when they meet God, I hold my tongue. It doesn’t matter if it’s MercyMe singing “I Can Only Imagine” or Fry shaking his fist. That’s because of my salvation experience in which I, for all intents and purposes, encountered the Lord.

When a Question Assumes Too Much

“Why don’t you like napkins?” Rita asked.

“What?” I replied, dumbfounded. “I don’t have a problem with napkins.”

“Then why don’t you have any?”

“Paper towels are cheaper.”

That was Rita, a woman I used to date who had an annoying habit of asking loaded questions. Each one could lead to a trap and an argument depending on how I answered. When I’m caught off guard, I have practically no game face.

What’s the Price of Silence?

It was an evening like most of our evenings; we had dinner and then spent time watching our favorite programs. When it came time to turn them off and go to bed, my wife looked at me and said, “I have something to tell you. I’m moving out on Saturday, and I think we should get counseling.”

I couldn’t have been more shocked if Elvis Presley and Jimmy Hoffa rappelled from a helicopter piloted by Amelia Earhart onto the front lawn. To the best of my knowledge, our marriage was pretty good; it wasn’t perfect, but it was pretty good. After all, we never fought, and we rarely exchanged harsh words.

It wasn’t until later, in the middle of counseling, that my wife presented me with a short list of “charges,” most of which were unfounded but ripe with misunderstanding and pain.

Another “picture-perfect” marriage had succumbed to a false peace leading only to death.