Put the Book Down

Acts 5:17–26

Phrases that spoke to me today:
• "Go and stand in the temple and speak to the people all the words of this Life"
• they entered the temple at daybreak and began to teach
• "the men you put in prison are standing in the temple and teaching the people"

Applying the Word to My Life:
A while back one of my students wore a crucifix that I had given him to school. It wasn't hidden under his shirt, it was displayed for all to see. He knew what came with that — wearing your faith visibly carries a social cost and he understood that going in. What he didn't know was what form it would take. One day someone walked up and asked him why he hated them.

The fear of that moment — the social exposure, the accusation, the not knowing what's coming — is real. It is also as old as Christianity itself. In our reading, the apostles knew what they were walking back into. They had already been arrested once. The prison was behind them. The temple was ahead of them. At daybreak, they went back and began to teach.

Fortitude is not the absence of fear. It is the Holy Spirit's gift that gives us strength to act faithfully even when the fear is real, the cost is real, and the outcome is uncertain. God knows what he is asking of us when he calls us to witness to the faith. He also knows what it costs. The gift of fortitude is his answer to that — the provision of a loving Father who would not send his children into difficulty unprepared.

Fortitude isn't reserved for the big and dramatic fears in our life. Fortunately, most of us will not face a prison cell for our faith. But we each have our own fears and concerns that could keep us from living our mission. I am an introvert. My default is to keep my head down and let other people do the talking. But there are times when I am called out of my comfort zone and fortitude is there to help me.

One afternoon I was sitting before the tabernacle — book open, deep in prayer — when a woman came and asked if she could sit nearby. I said yes and went back to my reading. She asked a question. Then another. I could see what was happening but I was not looking for a conversation that day.

Fortitude moved me anyway. I put the book down and turned toward her and we started a conversation.

She was hurting. She had things she needed to say out loud to someone who would listen. I don't know if I gave her anything beyond a couple hours of my day. But sometimes that is the whole thing. That is one of the more dramatic times where fortitude allowed me to make a difference in someone's life, but it happens more often than I can keep track of.

Fortitude does not always ask for heroics. Sometimes it just asks us to put the book down.

The gift is not reserved for prison cells and tribunals. It shows up in a school hallway when someone challenges your faith, and in a quiet afternoon when someone needs you to stop being quiet.

The gift is already there. It just needs us to be open enough to ask for it.

My Response for Today:
Today I will notice one moment where fear or reluctance is holding me back — and take the next faithful step anyway.