The Power of “I Have Nothing”

Text: Acts 3:1-10

Occasion: The Twelfth Sunday after Trinity
Setting: A Lutheran Congregation; St Crucis Lutheran in Beacon Bay, East London, SA

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

The scene is one of stark contrasts. On one side, the Beautiful Gate of the temple—polished, ornate, a magnificent entrance to the presence of God. On the other side, a man—unpolished, broken, a lifelong outsider to that very presence. He is lame from birth. His place is not inside, worshipping, but outside, begging. His daily routine is one of managed despair: be carried to the gate, ask for alms, hope that the piety of those entering will translate into a coin or two.

He sees Peter and John and makes his pitch. It’s the same request he’s made a thousand times before. He hopes for a transaction. He expects a coin. But what he gets is something that will shatter his world and rebuild it in an instant.

Peter and John don’t ignore him. They don’t just toss a coin into his cup and move on. They do something far more powerful, far more personal. They look at him. In a world that taught him he was invisible, a burden, perhaps even cursed by God, two followers of Jesus stop, lock eyes with him, and see a human being.

And then Peter speaks words that are the heart of this story, words that are the heart of the Christian faith: “I have no silver and gold, but what I have I give to you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk.”

Beloved, in these words, we hear the stunning, counter-intuitive, beautiful confession of the Christian Church. This is the Theology of the Cross shouted from the temple steps. “I have no silver and gold.”

This is the first and most important thing the Church must say to the world. We confess our poverty. We have no political power that can finally fix the human heart. We have no wealth that can buy off death. We have no silver or gold of our own that can mend what is broken in you, in me, or in this world. We are, by nature, just as poor, just as lame, just as helpless as the man at the gate. We have nothing of our own to offer God or our neighbor.

And that is precisely why our message is such good news. Because our power is not our own. Our solution is not from within. Our help comes from outside of us.

Peter continues: “But what I have, I give to you.” What do they have? What is the one thing the Church does possess? It is not a what. It is a Who. It is the name. “In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth…”

The name of Jesus is everything. It is the only currency of the Kingdom of God. This name is not a magic word. It is the proclamation of a person. It is the declaration of who Jesus is and what He has done. It is the name of the one who was crucified under Pontius Pilate, who Himself was laid outside the gate, rejected and broken. It is the name of the one who was raised from the dead, proving that God’s power is made perfect in weakness, that life comes through death, that victory looks like a cross.

The power to heal this man did not come from Peter’s great faith or John’s inner strength. It came from outside of them. It was a gift. It was grace. And it flowed through them to this man solely because of the authority of the crucified and risen Jesus.

And then, the most tender moment. Peter doesn’t just yell, “Be healed!” He “took him by the right hand and raised him up.” This is the Gospel in action. This is what God does for us in Christ. We cannot rise on our own. So in our Baptism, God reaches down into our helplessness, takes us by the hand—a hand nailed to a cross for us—and raises us up. He pulls us out of the death of sin and into the new life of faith.

The man’s response is the only proper response to such a gift: He goes “walking and leaping and praising God.” He doesn’t just enter the temple; he is now a living doxology, a testament to the power of the name of Jesus.

So what does this mean for us, here today?

Perhaps you feel your own lameness this morning. The lameness of a chronic illness that won’t heal. The lameness of a addiction you can’t break. The lameness of a grief that paralyzes you. The lameness of a faith that feels weak and hobbled. The world has plenty of silver and gold to offer you. It offers distractions, platitudes, self-help strategies, and promises of wealth and wellness if you just have enough positive energy.

But the Church of Jesus Christ looks you in the eye today and says, “We have no silver or gold. We can’t give you a prosperity gospel. We can’t give you a guarantee of earthly ease. We can’t give you a politics that will usher in heaven on earth.”

“But what we have, we give to you.”

We give you the name. The name of Jesus.
We give you the word of Absolution: “In the name of Jesus, your sins are forgiven.”
We give you the splash of water connected to that name: “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”
We give you the food of immortality: “The body of Christ, given for you. The blood of Christ, shed for you.”

In this name, you are raised up. You are pulled from death to life. You are brought inside the gate, not as a beggar, but as a child of God, to walk and leap and praise Him.

The world looks for God in the beautiful gates—in success, power, and glory. But our God, the God of the Cross, is found in the opposite places. He is found in the helpless man. He is found in the apostles who have nothing. He is found in the water, the bread, the wine, and the word. He is found where He has promised to be: giving His gifts to you.

So come. Be raised up. And enter His courts with praise.
Amen.

The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.