Freedom of Religion

A dinner in Oxford is a serious matter. Two weeks ago my College hosted a rather unusual one, billed as a ‘Roman Banquet’. To mark our law students’ passing from their preliminary studies into their finals honours school, what could be better than a Banquet? And as those familiar with undergraduate law moderations examinations in Oxford will surely know, Roman Law remains a compulsory course of study. As the other subjects studied for mods exams are criminal law and constitutional law (a ‘criminal feast’? an unhealthy-sounding ‘constitutional’ one?), it is not difficult to see why all things Roman were alighted upon as the evening’s theme. But shortly beforehand, it was put to me that it might be best not to be described as a ‘Banquet’: A ‘Roman’ Banquet’? That had – ‘connotations’. Perhaps describing the event as just a ‘dinner’ would be reputationally ‘safer’? 

But even a ‘Roman Dinner’ can run the risk of being reputationally damaging. Although it is not directly mentioned in the lesson from Acts, it was Peter’s attendance at a ‘Roman Banquet’, after a fashion, that was causing consternation in Jerusalem. Peter had shared in a meal in Caesarea (of all places) with Cornelius, the Roman Centurion, and his friends. The occasion certainty seemed to merit celebration: Peter had just baptised Cornelius, after having seen the holy spirit descend upon him. Yet today’s lesson tells us that when ‘Peter went up to Jerusalem, the circumcised believers criticized him, saying, “Why did you go to uncircumcised men and eat with them?’ 

Their criticism does not seem to have been focussed so much on his ‘going to them’, but his ‘eating with them’: his ‘going to eat’. Strangely to the modern ear, the news that the gospel of Christ could be for the gentiles, and that the holy spirit might work through the gentiles, was one thing: even being baptised into the church of Christ was something that could be accepted – welcomed, even. But their main problem was with what came afterwards: eating with them? What on earth was that all about?

It is clear that this was the gist of the complaint that was being made of Peter’s behaviour, as this is the charge that he seeks to rebut. Peter does not deny the accusation; and he understands it to be an accusation. Indeed, he himself had previously recognised the enormity of what it was he had done. We are told that Peter had had a vision of what might be described as a ‘table set before him’, laden with things to eat but which were ritually unclean. Was this a temptation? Peter insists that it is impossible for him to kill and eat animals such as unclean fowl and beasts. Ever quick to tell God what can and cannot be done, he responds: ‘By no means, Lord, for nothing profane or unclean has ever entered my mouth.’ But he receives a dressing down by way of response: ‘What God has made clean, you must not call profane.’ Ever the bureaucrat, once Peter has received this message in triplicate he finally accepts what he is being told. But what is itthat he is being told?

The message is not the messenger. Peter recognises that the work of the holy spirit is afoot and he acknowledges, responds and celebrates this. But this does not mean that Cornelius, through his acceptance of the Christian message and his being welcomed by Peter and his friends as a follower of Christ, is meant to become ‘like’ them in other ways too. Peter and his friends in Jerusalem cannot define what ‘being a Christian’ means for Cornelius, nor do they provide a ‘model template’. What being a Christian means for Cornelius – as it is for everyone - is a matter for God. It is not for Peter and his friends to demand that fellow believers tread their paths of faith, and their paths of religious observance. 

What is required of Peter and his friends (and for whom we can read in ‘ourselves’) is that they (we) be open to exploring what they (we) have previously held dear in the light of the continual revelation of God’s love, working in and through the lives of others. Peter is not being told that he must be ‘like Cornelius’ any more than Cornelius is being told that he must be ‘like’ Peter and his friends. In an age when ‘identity politics’ has come so much to the fore, there is a powerful reminder here that we are called by God to ‘be ourselves’, not to be ‘someone else’. And what that means is a matter for God, not ‘everyone else’. What we are called to do is to seek to discern, and not seek to frustrate or reject, the voice of God working in and through the lives of others, and to come together with each other to learn more of Him through thelives of others.

But there is something else that we might reflect on. It is impossible to understand what is happening here without recalling what has gone before. Much of what we find in Acts chapter 11 seems already to have been said in Acts chapter 10. Is this merely repetition? Not really. Acts chapter 10 adds some valuable additional material which casts more light on what has been happening. Acts chapter 11 is written very largely from the perspective of Peter, yet Acts chapter 10 suggests that this is not really ‘about’ Peter at all. He may be the means through which God is acting, but he is very much the ‘bit part player’. 

Not that Peter sees it this way. He seems to see his being asked to go to Caesarea to meet with Cornelius as intended to help him make sense of the strange visions he has just had: ‘Ah; that’s why I had that weird dream’ – to prepare him for the task that God was calling him to undertake, and not to recoil from taking the word of God to the Gentiles. Unwittingly – perhaps – he puts himself ‘centre stage’. But Acts chapter 10 makes it clear that this is not quite right. It suggests that it is Cornelius who God is placing ‘centre stage’ – telling him, Cornelius, to summon Peter to him – something which Peter responds to with commendable alacrity but, perhaps, with some considerable reservation: ‘Should I stay or should I go’? It seems clear enough that he needed to be told by God that he should go – otherwise the request from his visitors alone might not have been sufficient for him to do so. 

We cannot always expect to be told what is the right thing to do – how we should respond to the unexpected invitation, the unusual request, or the entirely counter-intuitive suggestion. But we do have to be open to the idea that there may be something bigger going on, and willing to hold open the possibility that we are being asked to be a part of something we do not really understand. We may not always have the same clarity of reassurance that Peter had. But what we can do is think about such moments from the perspectives of others: might this be of service, even if I am not entirely sure how or why? We can never know the full significance of our actions, and we need to remember that not everything is to be determined on the basis of what seems best from our perspective. We are not always the centre of attention – but the part we play might be of central importance none the less. The difference, however, is important.

So what do we make of the explanation that Peter gives for his radical dinner attendance? It is interesting that in recounting the episode to his critics, he airbrushes out the really rather significant point that he was dining with a Roman centurion – that might have inflamed matters even more. And he does rather foreground his own role in the proceedings, but explains that if God has baptised gentiles with the holy spirit – ‘just like us’, then how could they be denied acceptance? How indeed? Yet there is still something slightly grudging here: ‘I suppose we must’ seems to be the prevailing mood. It does not feel like an acceptance with open arms. Strangely, I rather warm to this really rather human response to the generosity of divine inclusion: ‘Them? Ok – but, really?’ Oh yes, really. Get the message. ‘Everyone’ means ‘Everyone’: ‘for all’ means ‘for all’. I think Peter and his friends knew this – but this doesn’t make it any easier to come to terms with. Really.

As an international lawyer who for over 30 years has been advocating for the freedom of religion or belief to be something which should be enjoyed by everyone and not just by ‘people like us’, I really do empathise with how difficult this message can be. I really can identify with Peter and his friends in Jerusalem in their struggle to come to terms with this. And many still struggle with this today – but struggle we must, for this is what God is asking of us, whether we like it or not. And the good news is that God understands that struggle too.

And in case you were wondering, we had a great time at our College Roman Law Banquet, as I hoped we might.