Perfect Church
There’s a well-known story
about a man who once approached the great preacher Charles Spurgeon. The man
said he was searching for the perfect church. He had visited several
congregations, but each one disappointed him in some way—some had internal
divisions, others lacked spiritual fervor. So he asked Spurgeon, “Can you help
me find a perfect church?” Spurgeon, with his usual wit and wisdom, replied,
“My dear friend, if you ever find such a church, don’t join it—because the
moment you do, it won’t be perfect anymore!”[1]
That story always makes me
smile, but it also points to a deeper truth: there is no perfect
church—because the church is made up of real people: sinful and broken.
Even the early church was not immune to trouble. As it grew stronger, the enemy
launched counterattacks from both without and within—first, persecution from
the outside; then, corruption from the inside.
Ananias and
Sapphira
The story of Ananias and
Sapphira is unique and striking. It is shocking—but it is also written under
the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. It teaches us about the seriousness of sin
and, at the same time, reveals the brightness and glory of the Gospel of
Christ.
Luke intentionally places
their story right after the account of Barnabas. There was a man named Joseph,
also called Barnabas, meaning “son of encouragement.” He sold a field he owned,
brought the money, and laid it at the apostles’ feet. He was deeply respected
by the early church.
Ananias and Sapphira saw
this. They wanted the same kind of admiration that Barnabas received. So they
imitated his actions. Outwardly, both Barnabas and Ananias did the same thing:
they sold property, brought the proceeds, and gave it to the church. But
inwardly, there was a vast difference. As a result, Barnabas was commended, while
Ananias faced God’s judgment.
Adam and Eve
This story is hard to read,
but it offers an important insight into our sinful nature. In fact, it
parallels the story of Adam and Eve in Genesis 3. Adam and Eve conspired
together and deliberately rebelled against God. They wanted to be like God.
That same sinful nature has been passed down through every human heart.
In Acts 5, Ananias, “with his
wife’s full knowledge,” withheld part of the money while pretending to give it
all. It was a deliberate act of deceit—despising God and disrupting the unity
of the church. Ananias sought human praise rather than the praise of God (cf.
John 12:43).
John Calvin famously said, “The
human heart is a perpetual idol factory.” He meant that we constantly
create things that we end up loving or trusting more than God. These idols
aren’t always statues—they can be anything we place above Him. For Ananias, the
idols were reputation, recognition, and control. He wanted to appear holy and
generous—without actually surrendering his heart. But God is not mocked.
Achan
This story also echoes the
story of Achan in Joshua 7. In Acts 5:2, we’re told that Ananias “kept back”
some of the money. The Greek word nosphizō means “to embezzle.” Most
likely, Ananias had pledged to give the full amount to the church, but secretly
held some back. This same Greek word is used in Joshua 7:1 to describe what
Achan did.
After the fall of Jericho,
the city was declared “cherem”—devoted to God. The Israelites were told not to
take anything. But Achan disobeyed. He stole from what had been consecrated to
the Lord. And his sin didn’t just affect him—it impacted the entire community. Sin
is contagious. Greed, dishonesty, and deceit pollute not only our own souls
but also those around us. And the consequence of sin is always death and
judgment.
The Good News
I am Adam. You are Eve. We
are Achan.
We all share the same sinful nature—self-centeredness—trying to look
good at the expense of others. We can’t fix ourselves because our hearts are
corrupted. Scripture says, “The heart is deceitful above all things and
beyond cure. Who can understand it?” (Jeremiah 17:9). That’s the bad news.
Paul, too, cried out, “What
a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?” (Romans
7:24). But then comes the turning point: “Thanks be to God—through Jesus
Christ our Lord!” (v. 25a).
The darker the night, the
brighter the light of Christ shines. The Gospel declares: we are so sinful,
so helpless, so lost, that Jesus had to be crucified to save us. The Gospel
offends those who believe in the goodness of humanity, but it saves those who
see their need and turn to Christ.
Paul said, “I am not
ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for the salvation of everyone
who believes” (Romans 1:16). The cross shows us both how broken we are and
how loved we are.
Salvation Hill
John Bunyan gives us a vivid
image of salvation in Pilgrim’s Progress. Christian, the main character,
carries a heavy burden on his back—representing his sin and guilt. He tries
everything: morality, religion, good deeds—but nothing removes the weight.
Then he comes to a hill
called Calvary. As he climbs and looks to the Cross, something miraculous
happens: the burden loosens, falls off his back, and rolls away—disappearing
into an empty tomb. Christian weeps with joy, realizing: I didn’t earn this.
I simply looked and believed.[2]
This is how salvation comes.
Not by pretending to be holy—like Ananias and Sapphira—but by laying our pride
down and trusting the One who bore our burden. The moment we look to Christ,
our guilt is gone, and our heart is made new.
Eustace’s Scales
And just as we are saved by
grace, we are also sanctified by grace.
In The Voyage of the Dawn
Treader, C. S. Lewis introduces Eustace—a selfish, greedy boy who turns
into a dragon after hoarding treasure. Desperate and miserable, he tries to
scratch off his dragon skin—but each time, another layer remains.
Finally, Aslan, the
Christ-figure, appears. Eustace recalls:[3]
“You will have to let me undress you,” said the Lion. I was afraid of his
claws, but I was desperate. So I lay down and let him do it. The very first
tear went so deep I thought it had gone to my heart… But it was the joy of the
peeling that made the pain bearable.”
That’s how sanctification
works. We can’t fix ourselves. But if we surrender, Jesus will do it.
Layer by layer. Grace upon grace. By the end of the story, Eustace is
transformed into a faithful warrior.
Good News for You
So, where are you today?
Are you carrying a burden
like Christian? Hiding behind appearances like Ananias? Trapped in selfishness
like Eustace?
Wherever you are, Jesus
invites you to come. Aslan says, “You must let me undress you.” Jesus says, “Come
to Me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”
He alone can lift the burden.
He alone can tear through the layers.
He alone can give you a new heart and make you whole.
So come. Don’t pretend. Don’t
delay.
Now is the time of God’s favor. Now is the day of salvation.
Come honestly. Come humbly.
Come to Jesus.
And you will find what Ananias
missed—but what Barnabas found: a new life, and joy in the Holy Spirit.
“You show me the path of
life. In your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are
pleasures forevermore.”
(Psalm 16:11, NRSV) Amen.
Houlton UMC Service:
Message: "Prayer in the Night" (Acts 4:23–31):
