“Déjà vu” is a French phrase, which literally means “already seen.” It describes a “compelling sense of familiarity,” the sense that “we’ve been here before.” It describes the experience of feeling sure that you have already witnessed or experienced a current situation, even though the exact circumstances of the previous encounter are uncertain and were perhaps imagined or dreamed.

We experience this in different spheres and no doubt, as is commonly concluded, we are often simply remembering something we dreamed. But there are other situations where our “compelling sense of familiarity” is because in fact we truly have “already seen” the scene! Such no doubt was the experience of the Sanhedrin when they confronted Peter and John. Such was probably the feeling of Peter and John in this confrontation. Perhaps they even thought, “Here we go again!”

But I want us to consider that there is a very real sense in which the church of our day should read the account of Acts 4 with a sense of “a compelling sense of familiarity.” This is true with regard to the unbelief of the Sanhedrin, with regard to the faith of Peter and John and with regard to the response of the local church to this scene.

In this study, I want to consider this sense of déjà vu and see what we can learn from it. My thesis is that the unbelief that the church faces today is no different than that faced 2,000 years ago. And neither is a Christ-driven faith. We need déjà vu in the latter! We must understand the reality of and the reason for the opposition we face, but we must also know what a biblical response is.

Unbelief looms large in this chapter. And it looms large in our world too.

You will remember that the events of chapter 4 flow immediately from those of chapter 3. There, Peter and John had healed a man who had been paralysed from birth, and used the miracle as a springboard for a gospel sermon. Two groups heard the word, with completely opposite results.

Many who heard in chapter 3 were greatly amazed. They were, at first, amazed by the miracle, and then later when the Spirit drove home the truth of the gospel to their hearts. Thousands were converted.

But in chapter 4 we see the opposite reaction, and one that is completely realistic any time the gospel is preached. It was a response of great annoyance.

Now as they spoke to the people, the priests, the captain of the temple, and the Sadducees came upon them, being greatly disturbed that they taught the people and preached in Jesus the resurrection from the dead. And they laid hands on them, and put them in custody until the next day, for it was already evening. However, many of those who heard the word believed; and the number of the men came to be about five thousand.

(Acts 4:1-4)

The hearers in chapter 3 were spiritually disturbed, whilst the Sanhedrin was satanically disgusted. The former exhibited the fear of the Lord, the latter the fear of man. The distinction is between belief and unbelief. In short, the gospel produced division in society. In fact, division in the church was a reality produced by Jesus!

This is, or should be, New Testament 101. Sadly, this is not always the case. Take for example Carl Medearis, described as “an international expert in Arab-American and Muslim-Christian relations.” Twenty years ago, Medearis was a missionary to Beirut. Today, he is the author of Speaking of Jesus: The Art of Not-Evangelism.

In a blog post entitled “My Take: Why Evangelicals Should Stop Evangelizing,” Medearis reflects on his time as a missionary and on his changed understanding of disciple-making since.

The article begins with a simple exercise. Medearis offers a brief autobiographical snippet and asks the reader to describe what he has just written.

Here goes: Twenty years ago, I became a missionary. My wife and I left our home in Colorado Springs, Colorado to move to Beirut, Lebanon. Our job description was to plant churches and evangelize to Muslims.

Based on what I just said, Carl Medearis is a ______________.

Medearis then offers two possible answers, which allow for a great range of responses between.

Depending on your background, the blank may look something like this:

Carl Medearis is a hero of the Christian faith, a saintly super-man willing to sacrifice the comforts of home in order to share the love of Jesus Christ with those who have never heard the gospel.

Or this:

Carl Medearis is a right-wing extremist who destroys cultures, tears apart families and paves the way for neo-colonialist crusaders to invade, occupy and plunder the resources of local populations.

He notes that this is “quite a range,” and this sets us up for the remainder of the article. For what it’s worth, I would offer a slightly different description. My description, based on that autobiographical description would be along the lines of “a Christ-besotted lover of humanity, seeking to rescue people from the wrath of God by the same God of love.”

Medearis goes on to state that some people understand evangelists and missionaries to be “pious heroes performing good deeds that are unattainable for the average Christian” and that others see “those same words represent[ing] just about everything that’s wrong with the world.” (I would add that those words bring to mind a blessed people with the aroma of Christ.) He believes that this “confusion” is “understandable.”

Based on my experiences of living and traveling around the world, I know that religion is often an identity marker that determines people’s access to jobs, resources, civil liberties and political power.

When I lived in Lebanon I saw firsthand how destructive an obsession with religious identity could be. Because of the sectarian nature of Lebanese politics, modern Lebanese history is rife with coups, invasions, civil wars and government shutdowns.

When I tell my Christian friends in America that some of the fiercest militias were (and are) Christian, most are shocked. It doesn’t fit the us-versus-them mentality that evangelism fosters, in which we are always the innocent victims and they are always the aggressors.

For the record, he does not define what he means by “Christian” militias. He continues:

This us-versus-them thinking is odd, given that Jesus was constantly breaking down walls between Jews and Gentiles, rich and poor, men and women, sinners and saints. That’s why we have the parable of the Good Samaritan.

Jews in Jesus’ day thought of the Samaritans as the violent heretics, much the same way that Christians think of Muslims today. The idea that a Samaritan could be good was scandalous to first century Jews.

Jesus was the master of challenging religious prejudice and breaking down sectarian walls. Why do so many Christians want to rebuild those walls?

Again, he does not specify the “sectarian walls” that he believes “so many Christians” are seeking to “rebuild.” He plays word games when he adds that “even the Apostle Paul insisted that it’s faith in Jesus that matters, not converting to a new religion or a new socio-religious identity.” He then offers his suggestion:

What if evangelicals today, instead of focusing on “evangelizing” and “converting” people, were to begin to think of Jesus not as starting a new religion, but as the central figure of a movement that transcends religious distinctions and identities?

Jesus the uniter of humanity, not Jesus the divider. How might that change the way we look at others?

He is correct when he describes Jesus as “the central figure of a movement that transcends religious distinctions and identities.” That “movement” is what we call Christianity! But his claim that Jesus is a “uniter” and not a “divider” is off base. One wonders if he has ever read the words of Jesus, who said that He came not to bring peace, but a sword (Matthew 10:34-37).

Medearis goes on to describe how he was as a missionary.

When I used to think of myself as a missionary, I was obsessed with converting Muslims (or anybody for that matter) to what I thought of as “Christianity.” I had a set of doctrinal litmus tests that the potential convert had to pass before I would consider them “in” or one of “us.”

Evidently, he no longer has a litmus test for Christianity. But he believes that this is fine. After all, “Jesus never said, ‘Go into the world and convert people to Christianity.’ What he said was, ‘Go and make disciples of all nations.’” Of course, this begs the question (though Medearis never offers an answer, of whom are we to make disciples? Jesus certainly did command us to make disciples, but disciples of Him.

Medearis labels conventional evangelism as “manipulation” and instead suggests that we “encourage anyone and everyone to become an apprentice of Jesus,” which is “a more open, dynamic and relational way of helping people who want to become more like Jesus—regardless of their religious identity.” In reality, he has just defined the desire of many to experience the benefits of biblical Christianity without repentance.

But he adds a word of caution.

Just because I believe that evangelicals should stop evangelizing doesn’t mean that they should to stop speaking of Jesus.

I speak of Jesus everywhere I go and with everyone I meet.

As founder and president of a company called International Initiatives, my work is aimed at building relationships among Christian leaders in the West and among Muslim leaders in the Middle East.

He doesn’t state what his ultimate goal is in this work, but he adds as a surprising note that “Muslims are generally open to studying the life of Jesus as a model for leadership because they revere him as a prophet.” Of course, holding Jesus up “as a model for leadership” because you “revere him as a prophet” will do you no good. He did not tell people to believe in Him as a prophet, but to trust Him as the very Son of God for forgiveness of sins.

Now that Medearis is “no longer obsessed with converting people to Christianity” he has discovered that “talking about Jesus is much easier and far more compelling.” I have no doubt this is true. If we do not call people to repentance and faith, there will be no opposition to our message. In reality, Medearis has begun to represent an unhistorical figment of his imagination. Why should anyone oppose that?

Incredibly, in a moment of pure Orwellian double-speak, Medearis states that “doctrine is important,” though “not more important than following Jesus.” He doesn’t specify what or whose doctrine he considers so important, but evidently it is not the doctrine of the Jesus of the Bible, who was very exclusive in his claims to truth.

“Inviting people to love, trust, and follow Jesus,” he adds, “is something the world can live with.” Evidently, he has not read the Gospel accounts. People most certainly did not “live with” loving, trusting and following Jesus!

Medearis closes with one last thought: “And since evangelicals like to say that it’s not about religion, but rather a personal relationship with Jesus, perhaps we should practice what we preach.” I agree wholeheartedly, but I must stress that our relationship is with a historical person, not with a figment of imagination.

Almost laughably, a CNN religion blog that featured Medearis’ article closed with this disclaimer: “The opinions expressed in this commentary are solely those of Carl Medearis.” If only! Sadly, a great multitude shares his views, but clearly the Bible does not!

When Peter and John preached the historical Jesus, they faced opposition. And, as we will see below, that opposition came primarily from their religious half-brothers.

It is a shame to consider that the opposition came from those who were entrusted with the spiritual leadership of Israel.

And it came to pass, on the next day, that their rulers, elders, and scribes, as well as Annas the high priest, Caiaphas, John, and Alexander, and as many as were of the family of the high priest, were gathered together at Jerusalem. And when they had set them in the midst, they asked, “By what power or by what name have you done this?” Then Peter, filled with the Holy Spirit, said to them, “Rulers of the people and elders of Israel: If we this day are judged for a good deed done to a helpless man, by what means he has been made well, let it be known to you all, and to all the people of Israel, that by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom you crucified, whom God raised from the dead, by Him this man stands here before you whole. This is the ‘stone which was rejected by you builders, which has become the chief cornerstone.’ Nor is there salvation in any other, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved.”

(Acts 4:5-12)

Peter and John were opposed by “their rulers, elders and scribes,” led by “Annas the high priest, Caiaphas, John, and Alexander, and as many as were of the family of the high priest.” The phrase “gathered together” (vv. 6, 26, 27) is a translation of the Greek word sunageo, from which we derive our English word “synagogue.” It was a religious gathering, but one that opposed Christ. This was, in the words of Revelation 2:9, a “synagogue of Satan.”

Annas and Caiaphas were long-standing opponents of Jesus Christ (Luke 3:2; John 11:49-53; John 18:24), and here we read that they were joined in their opposition by “as many as were of the family of the high priest.” Evidently, unbelief runs in the family!

Their unbelief, like all unbelief, was merciless. It was a “good deed” that Peter and John had done to a “helpless man,” but they vehemently opposed it. Clearly, they were not bothered to spare a thought for the “helpless man.” This in itself should give us a sense of déjà vu, because humankind is not getting better. Biblically good deeds are still opposed by those fixed in their unbelief. Humanists tried to convince us that their optimistic modernism will make the world better, but the bloodiest century in all of history was the very century that gave popular rise to modernism. And, importantly, we should perhaps see that postmodernism’s disillusionment with modernism opens great doors for the gospel.

We learn from this text that unbelief exists among those who are responsible to build for the glory of God (e.g. governments, world leaders, innovators and inventors). Unbelief often tries to make out that it is clever, but the “intelligent” are often far from it!

Unbelief fails to recognise the most magnificent Builder and building project in the universe! Just as the Sanhedrin had rejected the Cornerstone (v. 11), so those today who stand firm in their unbelief fail to see the glory of Christ the Builder and the church His building.

But it does not surprise us that the church is minimalised rather than prioritised. It does not surprise us that Jesus is marginalised rather than magnified. This is all déjà vu to us.

Unbelief fails to recognise Jesus Christ—crucified and risen—as the only hope for a society. If these believers had believed and received the Lord Jesus Christ, the terrible destruction of Jerusalem and the loss of life that attended it in 70 AD would never had happened. Because they rejected the Christ, they experienced the curse of God.

Our world likewise rejects Christ in favour of all sorts of pseudomessiahs. Consider, for example, the very prevalent but fallacious philosophy that education is the “cure all” for society’s woes (and the philosophy’s attendant higher taxes!). Or consider again the fallacious idea that government can save us.

The reality of unbelief is that it has absolutely nothing to do with what century you live in: Unbelief is not modern, it is ancient—as ancient as Adam and Eve!

Although the Sanhedrin could not deny the veracity of the miracle that had just taken place, and the relief that it had offered to the paralysed man, they were nevertheless intent on putting an end to the preaching of the apostles.

Now when they saw the boldness of Peter and John, and perceived that they were uneducated and untrained men, they marvelled. And they realised that they had been with Jesus. And seeing the man who had been healed standing with them, they could say nothing against it. But when they had commanded them to go aside out of the council, they conferred among themselves, saying, “What shall we do to these men? For, indeed, that a notable miracle has been done through them is evident to all who dwell in Jerusalem, and we cannot deny it. But so that it spreads no further among the people, let us severely threaten them, that from now on they speak to no man in this name.” So they called them and commanded them not to speak at all nor teach in the name of Jesus. But Peter and John answered and said to them, “Whether it is right in the sight of God to listen to you more than to God, you judge. For we cannot but speak the things which we have seen and heard.” So when they had further threatened them, they let them go, finding no way of punishing them, because of the people, since they all glorified God for what had been done. For the man was over forty years old on whom this miracle of healing had been performed.

(Acts 4:13-22)

Unbelief, then as now, is prejudiced against the evidence. The battle cry of unbelief is, “My mind is made up; don’t confuse me with the facts!” This was the persona of unbelief in Acts 4, and it has not changed in the least! Déjà vu!

Peter and John were “uneducated and untrained men.” This does mean that they were illiterate, only that they were not formerly schooled in theology like the Sadducees were. When their opponents realised that theologically unschooled men were delivering such a compelling gospel, they “marvelled.” They “wondered, were astonished and unable to account for what they saw.” ¹ And then they “realised that they had been with Jesus.” It was a déjà vu moment for the Sanhedrin this time. You almost get the impression that they were staring at the apostles, wondering where they had seen this before. It all seemed so familiar, and then suddenly they “realised that they had been with Jesus.” They “realised,” says Alexander, “in the specific sense of recognizing, knowing again, a thing or person known before.”²

Incredibly, though they admitted that they could not deny the miracle that had taken place, they would not submit to its implications. Longnecker notes, “Even the miraculous is not self-authenticating apart from openness of heart and mind; and the Sadducees’ preoccupation with protecting their vested interests shut them off from really seeing the miracle that occurred.”³

So what could they do? MacArthur notes that “one obvious way for the Sanhedrin to escape their dilemma would have been to deny that Jesus rose from the dead. That they never attempted to do so provides powerful evidence for Jesus resurrection.”⁴ Instead, they chose to rebuke the apostles and warn them to cease their preaching. They had all the evidence they needed, but they rejected it in unbelief.

But let’s get to the heart of the matter: Unbelief is contemptuous of Christ. Ultimately, they rejected the apostolic preaching because Jesus was a threat to their status. The Pharisees had displayed this same insecurity (John 7:45-49). And just as Jesus’ authority was plain for all to see, in stark contrast to that of the Pharisees (Matthew 7:28-29), so the authority of Spirit-filled apostles was clear against the self-righteous “authority” of the Sadducees. And, ultimately, both the Pharisees and the Sadducees recognised this.

Déjà vu—it is no different today. Jesus Christ claims all authority in heaven and on earth, and this immediately sets him against those who wish to cling to their own authority as supreme. Jesus Christ is a threat to those who will not submit, and to follow Jesus will put you against such authorities.

Further, to follow (believe) Jesus will impair your status. There is no room for co-regency with Jesus Christ. He is Lord, and we are not. And if we will come to Him and receive the benefits of His salvation, we must submit to His Lordship.

The simple fact is that unbelief is largely connected to peer-pressure, and therefore it persists in the face of changed lives. The life of the paralysed man had been obviously changed. The lives of thousands of others who believed the gospel had similarly been changed. And yet the unbelief of the Sadducees was unwavering. Let’s not be surprised when unbelief persists today despite the change that the gospel makes in people’s lives.

We have noted the reality of unbelief and have concluded that nothing has changed. This problem is nothing new. But the question now arises, why is unbelief so belligerent? What makes peer-pressure so powerful? What produces such a wrong verdict? Why is unbelief prevalent and persevering?

Those who do not believe choose not to believe. Jesus said to the Pharisees, who were hardened in their unbelief, “You search the Scriptures, for in them you think you have eternal life; and these are they which testify of Me. But you are not willing to come to Me that you may have life” (John 5:39-40). MacArthur sums it up nicely:

Sadly, though they could not deny it, neither were they willing to accept it. They were a living illustration of our Lord’s words in John 3:19 that “the light is come into the world, and men loved the darkness rather than the light; for their deeds were evil.” Such is the blindness of sin; they knew the truth, yet refused to accept it, just as they had rejected the truth of the resurrection (Matt. 28:11-15).⁵

Take a moment to let this sink in. God holds unbelievers accountable for their unbelief (Revelation 21:7-8; Romans 14:12; 2 Corinthians 5:10). Just as no one is saved against his will, so no one is lost against his will (Romans 3:10-18).

Our text sets this truth up with the use of the word “however” in v. 4. This is a word of contrast, and here it contrasts the unbelief of the Sadducees with the belief of the multitude in chapter 3. Some chose to believe while others chose not to believe.

Practically, let us learn to hold people accountable. We live in an age of psychobabble, which does not hold people accountable for sin. Murderers are labelled as “psychopaths” and “sociopaths” who need “therapy.” They are “sick.” Oddly, these “sick” people are often sent to prison. (Thankfully, tonsillitis doesn’t receive the same prescription!)

The fact is, not call sinful behaviour “sickness” that needs to be “treated” is to remove accountability. Murderers should be punished. Children should be disciplined. We all need to understand our accountability before God.

A second reason that unbelief persists is because of wilful blindness. Jesus called the Pharisees “blind leaders of the blind” and advised, “Let them alone” (Matthew 15:14). People spoke of those who “wilfully forget” (2 Peter 3:5). People often do not believe because they simply don’t want to believe.

This is a congenital spiritual problem. Paul spoke of “the blindness of their heart” (Ephesians 4:17-18). Unbelievers are born that way, even though they wilfully persist in it.

The simple fact is that, apart from a new heart, people cannot believe. It is only the “pure of heart” who will “see God” (Matthew 5:8), but no one is born with a pure heart. Instead, “the heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked” (Jeremiah 17:9). We are “evil” and cannot “speak good things” because “out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks” (Matthew 12:34). Regardless of medical breakthroughs, the world is dying of heart failure!

But clearly there is hope. Some have “obeyed from the heart” the gospel message (Romans 6:17). Some have believed “in [their] heart that God has raised [Jesus] from the dead” (Romans 10:9-10). Many have been “cut to the heart” by the gospel (Acts 2:37). The heart drives the will and it is for this reason that an unbeliever needs a completely new one!

This text reminds us of the necessity of regeneration. And the context reminds us that regeneration is possible by the grace of God. This is a déjà vu which the church more frequently needs to experience and therefore for which it needs to pray.

In a nutshell, our response to unbelief must be belief. An unfaithful reaction calls for a faithful response on our part. This is precisely how Peter and John responded. We need such déjà vu experiences.

In vv. 8-12 Peter acknowledged the reality of unbelief. And yet, despite their unbelief, he was confident in the message he preached. They denied the reality of the resurrection, but he did not back down. “Let it be known to you all, and to all the people of Israel, that by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom you crucified, whom God raised from the dead, by Him this man stands here before you whole” (v. 10).

Faith is fearless. Or, rather, it has one fear object: God! It has been said of John Knox that “he feared God so much that he never feared the face of any man.” This is the kind of faith that we need. Peter and John were “unlearned and ignorant men.” They had not received the technical training offered by the Jewish school. They might therefore have been tempted not to enter into dispute with the skilled theologians before them. But, in fact, they did not back down. Their faith gave them bold certainty.

Sadly, we see an obvious lack of gospel confidence in the church today. Of course, this is nothing new. G. K. Chesterton wrote of it in 1908.

What we suffer from today is humility in the wrong place. Modesty has moved from the organ of ambition. Modesty has settled upon the organ of conviction; where it was never meant to be. A man was meant to be doubtful about himself, but undoubting about the truth; this has been exactly reversed. Nowadays the part of a man that a man does assert is exactly the part he ought not to assert—himself. The part he doubts is exactly the part he ought not to doubt—the Divine Reason. . . . We are on the road to producing a race of man too mentally modest to believe in the multiplication table.⁶, 31-32.]

MacArthur reminds us that “Christians preach an exclusive Christ in an inclusive age.”⁷ Peter wrote in the first century of the confidence that must attend our witness.

And who is he who will harm you if you become followers of what is good? But even if you should suffer for righteousness’ sake, you are blessed. “And do not be afraid of their threats, nor be troubled.” But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts, and always be ready to give a defence to everyone who asks you a reason for the hope that is in you, with meekness and fear.

(1 Peter 3:13-15)

Our faith must be confident if we will enjoy the blessings of God.

But we learn here also that faith is committed. Peter and John were openly threatened and warned not to preach, but they chose to obey God rather than men (vv. 19-20).  A helpful paraphrase of v. 20 is offered by Alexander: “Whether God would approve our listening to your commands in preference to his, you may determine for yourselves; but whatever your determination may be, our course is clear, we cannot but, etc.”⁸ Their faith refused to be silent.

I find it interesting that Peter and John had to be commanded to be silent, whereas all too often we need to be exhorted to speak! May God give us the confidence and the commitment of the apostles!

We have considered above several reasons for unbelief. Let’s now consider the example of Peter and John and reflect on some reasons for their belief.

First, let’s note that it was an act of the will. They chose to respond by faith. They chose a believing and thus faithful response.

James offers the example of Abraham as an illustration of those who have chosen to believe God.

But do you want to know, O foolish man, that faith without works is dead? Was not Abraham our father justified by works when he offered Isaac his son on the altar? Do you see that faith was working together with his works, and by works faith was made perfect? And the Scripture was fulfilled which says, “Abraham believed God, and it was accounted to him for righteousness.” And he was called the friend of God. You see then that a man is justified by works, and not by faith only.

(James 2:20-24)

We need to understand that belief in God is our choice. But let us note at the same time that it is a compelled choice. It was “the love of Christ” that compelled apostolic belief (2 Corinthians 5:14), and it is the same love of Christ that needs to drive our obedience. These men had experienced something (or, more correctly, Someone) so marvellous that their wills were moved.

Is this déjà vu for us?

When I was in university I met the cousin of Jim Ryun, who was the first American athlete to break the four-minute mile. Ryun’s cousin, Patty, was a vibrant Christian, and she once told me the story of how Jim Ryun had come to faith in Christ.

In later years, Ryun became a representative for the Kansas legislature in the United States. In the interview, he recalled what it cost him to stand for truth in the political sphere. But he nevertheless made the decision to believe and obey God, even though it was not easy.

We need the same commitment. Whatever sphere of life we serve in, we must learn to speak for Christ. Our faith needs more often to be tested by our vocal chords.

The Spirit of God had renewed the apostles and then reoriented them. The Spirit of God empowered them to stand and to speak. They became Christ-driven witnesses.

Faith is the gift of God and the proof we have it is by whether we will to believe and obey. We are saved by grace through faith and not of works, but at the same time, once we are saved, “we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them” (Ephesians 2:8-10). Paul spoke elsewhere of the fact that God grants repentance (2 Timothy 2:24-25) and of God working in the believer “both to will and to do for His good pleasure” (Philippians 2:12-13). Clearly, belief is the work of God.

Peter boldly declared the gospel when he was “filled with the Holy Spirit.” This was a special empowering of the Holy Spirit for the purpose of gospel witness. It is vital, but sadly there is often not enough déjà vu here.

Peter and John had doubtless been filled with the Spirit (Ephesians 5:18—commandment) and God blessed them here with them being wonderfully filled with the Spirit. This was all in accordance with what Jesus had promised (Mark 13:11-13).

This can be our déjà vu experience, but only if we are willing by faith to step out to speak up. The Spirit works with what He is given. Willingness often precedes ability. If we are willing to speak for Christ, we will often find that God gives us the ability to do so just at the right time. Are you willing?