When his daughter Herodias came in and danced, she pleased Herod and his guests, and the king said to the girl, “Ask me for whatever you wish, and I will give it.” And he swore to her, “Whatever you ask me, I will give you, even half of my kingdom.” She went out and said to her mother, “What should I ask for?” She replied, “The head of John the baptizer.” Immediately she rushed back to the king and requested, “I want you to give me at once the head of John the Baptist on a platter.”

“Then the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go. When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.  Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

When Jesus told us of the Holy Spirit, my brother apostles and I were not impressed. More than that, we were confused and frankly, disappointed. After all, we had been with Jesus for three years.

When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.” A second time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Tend my sheep.” He said to him the third time, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” And he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep.”

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth. (John 1)

Please don’t call me a “doubter.” If you must call me anything at all, I prefer that you call me “a practical thinker.” This doubting thing, you see, has gone on far too long and you must help to dispel that image of me.

Thomas here again. Note I did not call myself “Doubting Thomas” as you might have desired, and if you did, that is your problem and not mine!

This time I want to talk with you about faith. Now, you may believe that someone like me would not be qualified to even bring up the subject of faith.

“So when they had come together, they asked him, ‘Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?’ He replied, ‘It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority.  But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.’”

My name is Ananias and this is my story. I have told it many times and each time, I pray that the retelling will glorify my Lord, Jesus Christ.

Now when they saw the boldness of Peter and John and realized that they were uneducated and ordinary men, they were amazed and recognized them as companions of Jesus. When they saw the man who had been cured standing beside them, they had nothing to say in opposition.

“After his suffering he presented himself alive to them by many convincing proofs, appearing to them during forty days and speaking about the kingdom of God. While staying with them, he ordered them not to leave Jerusalem but to wait there for the promise of the Father.” (Acts 1)

“How can you believe that stuff? Surely you have more sense. I thought you were smarter than that, but I guess I was wrong.”

Those were the words of my best friend, Cornelius. He and I go way back, all the way to our childhood in Ephesus, the city of our birth.

But now, something has come between us. Yes, and it’s become quite an obstacle to our friendship. And, if you guessed it’s my faith in Jesus Christ, you’d be correct!

“Therefore, to keep me from being too elated, a thorn was given to me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to torment me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I appealed to the Lord about this, that it would leave me, but he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake of Christ; for whenever I am weak, then I am strong.”

I have never thought of myself as anything but ordinary. Surely, no one could accuse me of being a prophet, much less an apostle, one of the inner circle of Jesus. And you should know that I have never sought fame or glory, and have always lived with my share of self-doubt and insecurity. But something of Jesus has gotten into me. Or maybe a better way to say it is that something of Jesus has awakened something in me. Yes, something that was perhaps always there, waiting to be discovered and given birth.

My name is Lydia and this is my story, written to you from what you call the first century. Of course, in my day, it was not the first century, since time in the Roman Empire was measured from the founding of Rome.

I was originally from the city of Thyatira, in the Asian kingdom of Lydia; hence my name. You see, in my time it was customary for slaves to be given the name of their home territory. So, I was Lydia from Lydia! And yes, I was a slave.

Before I go on, let me interject something important here. Because you must understand this: my story is not my own. No, as you will see, my story is God’s story, though I didn’t know it for the longest time.

“I thank my God for every remembrance of you, always in every one of my prayers for all of you, praying with joy for your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now. I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work in you will continue to complete it until the day of Jesus Christ. It is right for me to think this way about all of you, because I hold you in my heart, for all of you are my partners in God’s grace, both in my imprisonment and in the defense and confirmation of the gospel.”

I am a self-made outcast, isolated from my own culture. No, I’m not a leper, though I might as well be. I often feel like a leper, anyway. And I wasn’t born blind, either. My infirmity is private, hidden from view. I look normal and healthy on the outside, but I am anything but that on the inside.

Paul is dead, executed by the Romans. Peter is also dead, crucified upside down, also by Rome. Reading about this in your time, you may not feel much from these losses. You have the perspective of history, a history that seems to envelop us, in our time, in a deep sorrow. Because we, the followers of the Way in what you call the first century, we are devastated, wondering: what more can they do to harm our fragile faith?

You might call me a “late bloomer.” In fact, I am just that, a person who, late in life, found himself involved in things he never dreamed of. And if you knew me, you’d be as surprised as I am. Why? Because no one could have predicted what transpired in my later years. Not my friends, not my family and especially, not me!

Go back through your Bible and see how many of us late bloomers you find. I wager that you’ll be amazed.

Can you tell me the difference between “belief” and “faith?” Can you?

If you can, please do tell me, because I’m really struggling. Really struggling. You see, I know that, as a Christ-follower, a person of The Way, I need an abundant supply of faith. Life in my time and place demands it, and I fear that I come up very short when a strong faith is required.