“The War on Terrier”––

that was the provocative headline in at least one newspaper this week…

concerning a story that seemed to dominate the news…

deflecting attention from obviously trivial matters…

like the Federal Budget.

It turns out that the American movie star, Johnny Depp––

who is filming up on the Gold Coast––

smuggled in a pair of Yorkshire Terriers without declaring them to Customs.

The Agriculture minister, Barnaby Joyce, was, rightly, outraged…

and, with rather colourful language…

suggested that the dogs ought to “bugger off”…

or they would have to be euthanised.

That threat didn’t go down well with many in the wider public…

with an online petition seeking to ‘save the dogs from the Australian Government’…

attracting thousands of signatures in the space of a few hours.

Meanwhile, Clive Palmer criticised Barnaby Joyce…

saying his actions were “a waste of time”…

and would “result in a bad reputation for Australia and…hurt the struggling film industry”.

But the crisis was averted when the dogs were bundled back on to the luxury private jet…

and whisked home…

before the minister’s deadline expired.

And this, it would seem, was one of the major news stories of the week…

and not just here––

apparently, it dominated headlines…

news bulletins…

and morning television and current affairs shows all across America.

Oh, for heaven’s sake!

Yes, what Johnny Depp did was wrong.

Our quarantine laws are vital because we are free of many diseases…

such as rabies…

that are endemic in other places, including the US.

And, in my opinion, the minister acted appropriately…

even if his language was a little unbecoming.

But, given all of that, the story didn’t deserve the media coverage that it got.

All too often the mundane and trivial are given far more attention than they deserve.

 

All of which brings us to this morning’s rather mundane story from the Book of Acts.

The earliest followers of Jesus…

now, surprisingly, numbering some one hundred and twenty…

meet and choose a successor to Judas.

And, I don’t know about you, but my first reaction is a great big, “So what?”

Who cares?

Why include or even concoct this story?

Especially, given that that author is writing some sixty or more years later.

What’s the point?

 

Now, New Testament scholars will usually point out that…

for the author of Acts…

this was an important matter, theologically.

For him, the Twelve apostles are critical…

because they fulfil a crucial symbolic role as representatives of the twelve tribes of Israel.

The author wants to portray the Church as the fulfilment and continuation of Israel…

in an effort to accord it greater legitimacy.

You see…

as the church faced increased hostility from the outside world…

trying to show its connection to and continuity with historic Israel was important…

because the Romans tolerated what were…

to them…

bizarre and even distasteful religious customs if they were of ancient origin.

But given that the Book of Acts wasn’t aimed at or for Roman consumption…

but for the author’s own faith community…

that doesn’t really explain it.

 

Perhaps what was significant in this story…

was the manner in which they went about it.

The selection of a successor wasn’t simply an appointment by Peter…

made as some sort of pontifical fiat.

Nor was it even a decision made by the remaining members of the Twelve.

Rather, the whole community deliberated…

nominated two candidates…

prayed together…

and then, in effect, voted.

Perhaps the author was trying to legitimise a more democratic…

congregational-based structure…

rather than the more hierarchical leadership structure…

which we know was beginning to dominate the church from the latter part of the first century.

And that might be music to the ears of those of us who have been weaned in Nonconformist traditions––

but it’s a bit of a stretch.

 

Rather, there’s something much more interesting going on here…

especially when we see this episode in the context of the Book of Acts as a whole.

The author holds out this election––

this re-completion of the Twelve––

as vital…

specifically, so that they would function as a witness to the resurrection.

That was, after all, one of the chief qualifications for the candidates.

And yet, after his election, we never hear of Matthias again.

He never again appears in Acts…

nor is there any mention of him elsewhere in the New Testament.

According to some later legends he either preached around the Caspian Sea…

in an area of modern-day Georgia…

or he preached in Ethiopia.

And, according to some later legends, he was either stoned to death then beheaded in Jerusalem…

or he simply died there of old age.

But these conflicting traditions are all rather late…

and clearly were concocted in an effort to lend some credibility.

The reality, however, is that…

having been elected to be a witness to the resurrection…

Matthias completely disappears…

never, in a sense, to offer any such witness.

And yet, the disconnect between theory and reality…

in a sense…

goes much further than that.

Despite this pressing need to complete the Twelve so that they might be witnesses…

we only ever hear of Peter and John again in the Book of Acts.

The other nine are entirely absent as well.

Nowhere in Acts do we ever hear of them…

actually…

witnessing to the resurrection in word or in deed.

And even Peter effectively disappears mid-way through Acts.

Instead, the actual witness to the resurrection is carried on by others not belonging to the Twelve:

initially, by Stephen and Philip…

who, ironically, were appointed to tend to the material needs of widows…

so as to free up the Twelve for their ministry of witnessing;

and then, of course, by people like Barnabas and Paul.

The author of Acts…

on the one hand…

portrays Matthias’ election as part of the divine plan…

and yet, on the other hand, it was a divine plan in which he had no meaningful part.

His selection was spectacularly unsuccessful.

The election of Matthias is, in effect, a massive act of deconstruction.

Effectively, the author is deconstructing the Church’s claim to discern the will and purpose of God.

And he’s also deconstructing the role and importance of the church’s institutional leadership.

Anyone…

anywhere…

any time…

can be a witness to the resurrection.

It’s not a job or a ministry that’s reserved for a select few…

for those in official roles…

or for those whom the church, itself, recognises and sets apart.

In the end, the truth of the Book of Acts…

to which this little mundane story points…

is that the purposes of God are fulfilled…

the resurrection is lived and proclaimed…

and the love of God is made known by the people of God––

the whole people of God…

not just by…

nor, sometimes, even by…

those whom the church chooses and authorises.

It’s only as we all live…

and as we all proclaim resurrection through the way that we live…

that God’s purposes are fulfilled and the Kingdom of God is grown.

Perhaps, to put it more simply…

and even bluntly…

it’s not my job to proclaim Christ…

to embody Christ…

to make Christ and the love of God known…

on your behalf.

It’s up to you…

and me.