No Small Parts - Justus
November 15, 2020 Sunday Evening Study

I would imagine that almost everyone in this room has a story of being the one not chosen for something. We could probably sit around the table and reminisce about the times we were not the chosen ones - for one person, it’s maybe not being chosen for a college scholarship. For another, perhaps not being chosen for the school football team. Another might relive the memories of not being crowned in the pageant, while yet another person might speak of not being chosen senior prom queen. Most of the stories would likely be from long ago—a safe distance from which to share and be vulnerable. We don’t often talk about those times when they occur in adulthood - partly because with the painful feeling comes loss of opportunity or real hardship, so we tend to keep those things inside.

When I was seeking a pastor position, there were a lot of times where I was not selected. I think many of you would be shocked by the distinct lack of decorum shown by many churches in the US - it was about half and half. Some were professional, would let me know that they were not going to pursue me or that they were going to go in a different direction, and they would thank me and wish me well in my ministry. This was the response I expected from a church.

Others, however, were not so professional. Many churches never even acknowledged my contact. Still others would acknowledge, but would do so in a very terse and unwelcoming manner. One church in particular that I had spoken with several times in Nebraska had gone so far as to call me and have me fill out their questionnaire, even interviewing with one of the elders. Then, I didn’t hear from them for 2 weeks - not an email, no call, nothing. They had told me they’d be in touch within a few days, so after two weeks I sent a polite email asking if there was anything further they needed from me and let them know I had been praying for the church. I got an email back that was misspelled and had no punctuation that said “get the hint it’s not going to be you.”

That one was a little hard to shake off. Other churches would immediately look at my resume and just reply with the reasons why they did not like me - no thank you or even the smallest amount of professional decorum. One church replied to my resume and cover letter “Let us know if and when you have your seminary degree.” That was all they ever said to me.

Rejection is lousy. It hurts - and it can be that special kind of hurt that gets you right in the gut - the hurt that there is no cure for, no soothing. You learn that when you date and fall in love, and you learn it every time you apply for a job. For me, I can look back at my ministry search and see that these other churches passed on me because God was calling me here - and it was about His glory and not my own.

Please open your Bibles to Acts 1:20-26. We are going to read a story that is very often glossed over as a simple formality, but there are 2 characters mentioned here that do not get mentioned later in the story. These two characters go on to serve important functions in the ministry - though we have to search historical documents other than the Bible to learn of their ministry. Today we will focus on one, next week on the other. Read Passage.

Joseph called Barsabbas, who was also known as Justus, is not a well-known character of scripture. And there is a reason for that. He was the disciple “not chosen” when it came time to replace Judas, the betrayer. Yes, technically, he lost out in a game of lot casting. But nonetheless, if casting lots was divinely directed as it surely would have been thought, Joseph called Barsabbas was still the one not chosen. So it stands to reason that one might wonder what happened to Joseph of Barsabbas - since he is not mentioned in the Bible again. How did he handle not being the chosen one—one of Jesus’ inner circle disciples? What did he go on to do with his life?

In researching this little-known biblical character I found out some interesting things about his life. I learned that Joseph had been a follower of Jesus from the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry at the baptism of John. He had continued as a member of the larger company of disciples even to the time that Jesus was crucified. Being a member of the larger company - the 70 sent out by Jesus in Luke 10 to each place He Himself would visit -  is what had qualified him to replace Judas. But it was not his lot to take Judas’ place. That fell to Matthias.

In Christian tradition, after losing out to Matthias, this Joseph (also known as Justus) went on to become the Bishop of Eleutheropolis. And what is this place called Eleutheropolis you might ask? Eleutheropolis was a Palestinian Arab village located about 13 miles northwest of the city of Hebron, 53 miles southwest of Jerusalem. The village had a total land area of about 13,900 acres, of which 69 acres were built-up while the rest remained farmland. During the 8th century BC, the village was part of the Kingdom of Judah. During the days of Jewish king Herod the town became a thriving Roman colony and was known as the administrative center for that particular district of the empire.

The town was renamed over the centuries. Its original Aramaic name Beth Gabra, translates as the “house of the mighty one.” The Romans gave it the Greek name, Eleutheropolis, meaning “City of the Free.” It was during this period that the Roman Emperor granted the city municipal status and exempted its citizens from taxes—thus the name “City of the Free.” The city flourished under the Romans, who built public buildings, military installations, aqueducts and a larger amphitheater. On maps, it is shown as a walled city with three towers, a curving street with a colonnade in the central part and an important basilica. Seven routes met at Eleutheropolis indicating the city as a central point from which the distance of other towns were measured.

I tell you all of this to note that Eleutheropolis was a very important city. And it was this thriving Roman colony, the administrative hub of the region, in which the one not chosen became the Bishop. And as I thought about it, who wouldn’t want to be Bishop of the “City of the Free?”

Joseph Barsabbas Justus lived out his days in the City of the Free, until he was reportedly martyred for his faith, as was relatively common for Christian leaders in the first couple of centuries A.D.. Martyrdom carries with it its own degree of respect and admiration - the same now as it was then. Justus has been venerated by the church since the 2nd century AD as Saint Justus of Eleutheropolis.

This story - this outcome of the choosing when viewed from the standpoint of Justus should raise questions for us. How often does not being chosen for one thing free us up for something else important to do in our lives? The idea that life is not about being chosen or not chosen—we know that in God’s kingdom we are all chosen—but rather about how pivotal events that seem to bring disappointment can actually free us to explore other options hilds real merit when you look back now on the disappointments in your life from before, as often we can see how we ended up where we are today, and can often see blessings we might have missed had we gotten our own way.

All of the references and writings of Barsabbas pertaining to his role as the bishop of the Free City serve to report the man as having been steadfast, knowledgeable, and highly respected. We cannot go so far as to say whether he felt slighted when he was passed over, but he did not slink away and lick his wounds. Like a true minister, when one door closed, he sought out another way and place in which to serve. God blessed him in his pursuit, allowing him to further bless others. While maybe not what he had hoped for, it nevertheless was a life lived in mighty service to Christ. Let’s pray.