The Lord had made clear that the road from Jerusalem to the ends of the earth was paved with suffering, the pathway of the cross. It turned out pretty quickly that the life of the church was not going to be some fairytale honeymoon. 

The honeymoon, at least proverbially, is one of the best of times. It is when Cinderella’s happily-ever-after meets a beach in Bermuda. The flavors of the food sing higher notes. Your fabrics feel softer. The days crawl by with laughter and the constant touch of your new spouse. Upon the white sand, you gaze into the eyes of your beloved, doing nothing and yet doing all that is worth it. Honeymoons are the fairytales of our times, your own personal music video or Hollywood romantic movie. At least, this is how honeymoons are supposed to be.

After Christ showered the Spirit upon his people and Peter delivered his mighty oration, the honeymoon of the church arrived. Having been ratified in Christ’s blood and inaugurated by the Spirit, the church was constituted as the bride of Christ on Pentecost. And what a sweet time burst out on the stage of history. The silken words of the gospel, flowing from a fisherman’s mouth, cut the people to the quick. The people pleaded, “What shall we do? How can we be saved?” To which Peter answered, “Repent, believe, be baptized! All who call on the name of the Lord will be saved.” By the dozens, men and women lined up, believed in their hearts, and confessed with their mouths that Jesus Christ is Lord. The lines for baptism snaked through the streets, and by the time the sun set, the membership roll reached three thousand.

And what joy reverberated through this youthful church! Daily they joined for worship in the temple and to hear the apostolic teaching. “At least weekly” was not frequent enough for these saints; they broke the bread of the Supper together in their homes every day, and generosity was their overflowing cup. If one saint lacked, another had a garage sale and gave the proceeds to the needy. The word mine dropped from their vocabulary. The sweet harmony of Christian communion and fellowship rang in the streets of Jerusalem.

Additionally, the apostles finally grew out of their fear and confusion into their Spirit-fullness. Through Peter a 40-year-old cripple leaped and danced in Christ. Peter preached the gospel sermon for the ages. In fact, the apostles refused to stop preaching Christ in the temple and from house to house every day. Imagine a daily diet of apostolic preaching! The Spirit even used Peter’s shadow to heal the sick who lined the streets. It is no wonder the number of saints swelled to five thousand in no time. You can almost hear them singing the words of Isaiah, “The ransomed of the Lord shall return and come to Zion with singing; everlasting joy shall be upon their heads’¦ and sorrow and sighing shall flee away” (35:10). Generous love and joyful communion nurtured daily with word and sacrament as the church enjoyed her fairytale honeymoon.

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