Recently, my family encountered a homeless man who goes by the nickname Rev. We chatted and bought him a tuna sandwich at a sub shop. Afterward, my 4-year-old son Seth asked, “Daddy, why do I have a home and he doesn’t?” I offered some quick answer. We all know, however, that the truth is complicated. I walked away not knowing how Rev got where he is and not seeing the best way to help him. All I had to give him was a little conversation and a sandwich. I pray it was enough.

In Acts, we find two men who had very little to give. Peter and John had witnessed Jesus’ horrific torture and death. Each responded to the cataclysmic event differently, but both had been radically altered—their worlds obliterated. Neither emerged from the upheaval the same man he was before.

As John and Peter shared their stories, they did so with little fanfare or philosophical wisdom. They simply told what they had seen, proclaiming their mind-bending experience, “that through Jesus there is a resurrection of the dead” (Acts 4:2). But those words were more than enough to raise the ire of the religious authorities.

When they confronted Peter and John, however, they were amazed at the apostles’ resolute response, recognizing that they were simply dealing with “ordinary men who had no special training” (v.13). The only other thing the authorities noted about the two was that they
“had been with Jesus” (v.13).

This really was no insult, though—our experience with Jesus is all any of us have to offer. The hope for the world is not centered on our ingenuity or expertise or grit or programming genius. The hope for the world is common, ordinary people—you, me—living out the profound, gracious, healing, life-giving presence of Jesus.