Theophilus: A Follower of Jesus, a sermon based on Acts 1: 1-11 preached on June 1, 2025

Back in Columbia, Tennessee, where we lived before moving to Marietta in 2017, older men were notoriously witty, if a little morbid. “How are you this morning?” I’d ask. “Glad to be upright,” some would reply. Around here, Greg Brisco of Mayes Ward Dobbins Funeral Home will often say, “Better to be seen than viewed.” My favorite from Tennessee was, “I’m doing great. This morning, I opened the paper and didn’t see my obituary.” In 1888, an obituary for Alfred Nobel was published by mistake. It was his brother who died, but there in the newspaper was Alfred’s name, his picture, and his date of death, but what most disturbed Alfred Nobel was that his obituary referred to him as a merchant of death. Making his living selling explosives, according to the obituary, Nobel “made it possible to kill more people more quickly than anyone else who had ever lived.” Disturbed to learn how he would be remembered, upon reading this obituary and still being alive, Nobel determined to live in such a way that his obituary would need to be rewritten. Therefore, today, rather than dynamite, when I mention the name Alfred Nobel, you likely think of a prize given to those who contribute to peace, and his story illustrates the power of considering the legacy that we will leave behind while we still have time to do something about it. This morning, I ask you to consider the legacy that you will leave behind, specifically by learning from those who sponsored, funded, subsidized, and underwrote the great awards given, the works of art we see in museums, the theaters that celebrate music and drama, and the literature that we enjoy. You may not know who the 3rd Earl of Southampton was, but without him, we may never have heard of William Shakespeare, for the 3rd Earl of Southampton subsidized the meager salary c earned as a poet and a playwright. Andrew Carnegie made his fortune in steel, yet he gave so much of his money away that his contributions led to the creation of over 2,800 libraries. Because of Dolly Parton, our daughters received a book in the mail every month until they turned five, along with every other child in the state of Tennessee. I add to this list of great philanthropists one name from our second Scripture lesson: Theophilus. Each Sunday this summer, we will focus on a specific follower of Jesus from Scripture. As we follow Jesus in the 21st century, there are lessons for us to learn from the first followers of Jesus, and today I ask you to consider one who caused the Gospel of Luke and the book of Acts to be written: Theophilus. We just read: In the first book, Theophilus, I wrote about all that Jesus did and taught from the beginning until the day when he was taken up to heaven. Who was this man, and why is he mentioned? He didn’t write Luke and Acts. He wasn’t the one who gathered the account of Christ’s birth, researched His genealogy, was an eyewitness to His miracles, or recorded His parables. Theophilus was the one who gave the author the resources to do it. Now, it’s not often that the one who funds the project is remembered, and so while several of the letters in our new testament are addressed to particular people, only Theophilus is listed as a book’s benefactor. That makes sense. Often, we forget that what we have was paid for by somebody. Sick people on the way to surgery at Kennestone hospital don’t slow down to notice the historical plaques that list the names of donors. We don’t know the names of those who donated the $7,000 that enabled our community to break ground on Marietta High School back in 1886. This Sanctuary was built by human hands, but we don’t know the names of the masons, and though we do know the names of the 12 families who funded the construction of this Sanctuary, their names are all listed on a plaque that I often walk by without giving it a second look, for we go on living, often too busy to slow down and consider those who laid the foundation that we have built our lives upon. We sing out of hymnals that someone bought for us. We read out of Bibles donated by one of my 3rd grade Sunday school teachers, though I hesitate to call her name, for the great benefactors don’t give for recognition. They don’t give in the hopes of being celebrated or seeing their names in lights. We read right past the name, “Theophilus,” without a second thought, and I imagine that this is the way he would have wanted it because he didn’t sponsor the author of the book of Acts in the hope of recognition. He sponsored the book of Acts because he wanted to know Jesus. Think with me about Theophilus this morning, not just because his generosity has given us the Gospel of Luke and the book of Acts. Think with me about Theophilus because he wanted to know who Jesus was. He wanted to know, and so he paid someone to go and find out. Maybe he was searching for something. Maybe there was a hole in his heart, an emptiness that couldn’t be filled with a better palace or a faster chariot, and he hoped that this Jesus he kept hearing about would provide him the secret to abundant life. My friends, I’ve been watching a new show on Apple TV. Until Ted Lasso season four comes out, I’m not sure exactly what to watch, so I’ve been watching this TV show with that handsome guy from Mad Men. The new show he’s in is called Your Friends and Neighbors. I’m not recommending that you watch it. It’s not an uplifting or spiritually nurturing show. It’s about a man who lives in a neighborhood of mansions, who drives a car worth $200,000, who had a family and a wife, then lost everything. Finding himself unemployed and too proud to sell his assets, he resorts to stealing expensive watches from his friends and pawning them to a pawn shop owner who won’t ask too many questions. Some of these watches that he steals cost $300,000. And all they do is tell time, which is a limited resource. No matter how fancy the watch we can afford, no amount of riches can buy us any more time. No matter how much you have, the clock is still ticking. How do you want to be remembered? When it comes to Theophilus, who we know was a wealthy citizen in the Roman Empire, I imagine that one Sunday morning, he got out of bed. His wife had already gone to church. The house was empty, and he walked down the driveway to collect his copy of the Rome Daily Journal. I can see him spoon another mouthful of Ceaser Flakes into his mouth as he saw his obituary there printed by mistake and didn’t like what it had to say. Some have said that Theophilus was the secret name of the Roman Emperor’s cousin, Flavius, whose wife, Domitilla, was an early follower of Jesus. They lived during the rule of Emperor Domitian, a time when every misfortune the empire faced was blamed on the Chrisitan community, and we know that eventually Flavius was executed. His wife, Domitilla, was banished. Might they be the ones we have to thank for the Gospel of Luke and the book of Acts? Should Theophilus be a pseudonym for Flavius, then by funding this book of Acts that we now read, he risked his life. Or did he find it? What I’m trying to say is that money can’t fill the hole in our hearts that Jesus was meant to fill. Thinking only of ourselves can’t fill the hole in our hearts that only service can fill. Having a lot of everything will never get anyone out of bed in the morning the way that living your life for a higher purpose will, so as Theophilus died, I imagine that he was thinking to himself, “It cost me a little something to finance those books, but thanks be to God I now know that my death is not the end of my story, for the One who came to earth to save me also ascended into Heaven, and so will I.” My friends, right now, there are people shopping at Home Depot, spending hundreds of dollars on plants to put out in their yard. Right now, some are boating out on Lake Allatoona, and I’m happy for them, but I wonder if they know that unless they learn to serve the Lord with their lives, that unless they find a meaningful use for their treasure, then something will always be missing. I don’t want my obituary to read, “Joe Evans sure had a pretty front yard.” I don’t want it to read, “He sure had a nice boat.” I want to leave a legacy that blesses the generations who will follow me, and from the example of Theophilus, I know that it is better to live and to have died for something that matters than to fade off into the sunset counting the minutes as they pass on a $300,000 watch. Thanks be to God for Theophilus. May we all follow Jesus as he did. Amen.