“They sold their property and possessions and shared the money with those in need.”
— Acts 2:45
It’s a verse that can make us uncomfortable. Not because it’s unclear—but because it’s too clear.
The early followers of Jesus didn’t just talk about love. They lived it—with open hands, shared lives, and a trust in God’s provision that dared to let go of what most of us hold tight. It was radical, countercultural, and deeply costly.
And yet, it wasn’t a moment of religious extremism—it was the natural outflow of the Holy Spirit working in a community whose hearts had been changed.
A Principle for Then—or for Now?
So, is this just a principle for that day?
I don’t believe it is.
This isn’t a quaint relic of the early church or a historical footnote. It’s a window into what happens when the gospel truly takes root. When people stop asking, “What’s mine?” and start asking, “Who needs what I have?”
When faith becomes flesh—not just in belief, but in everyday practice.
Are We Meant to Copy Them?
No, we’re not necessarily called to copy the early church word-for-word. Or are we?
Let’s be honest—many people read a verse like this and quickly say, “That was for a different time.” But then we turn around and claim other Scriptures—about salvation, grace, prayer, and healing—as timeless truths, which they absolutely are.
We can’t have it both ways.
If we believe the Word of God is alive and active, then we have to be consistent. We can’t explain away the costly parts just because they press on our comfort.
The Greatest Commandment Still Stands
When Jesus was asked what mattered most—what the greatest commandment was—He didn’t hesitate:
“Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind… and love your neighbour as yourself.”
That’s not a seasonal suggestion. That’s not a principle for “back then.”
That’s the foundation for the entire way of Jesus.
Maybe the exact actions of Acts 2:45 were shaped by their context—but the heart behind them? That’s for every generation. The generosity. The deep sense of shared life. The willingness to surrender what we cling to—for the good of another and the glory of God.
This Kind of Love Still Speaks
We are called to carry that same spirit.
We do need to ask the same questions.
And we must remain open to the same kind of surrender.
In a world still marked by need, loneliness, and inequality, this kind of radical generosity is not only relevant—it’s urgently needed. It’s a prophetic witness to a different kind of kingdom.
What Might This Look Like?
It may be inviting someone into your home, forgiving a debt, cooking a meal, offering your time, or using your voice for someone who’s been silenced.
It may mean choosing presence over comfort, or generosity over convenience.
It may hurt your hip pocket. It may involve sacrifice, or put you in an uncomfortable position.
And that’s just the beginning.
These aren’t the limits of Christian love—they’re the bare minimum.
Because sometimes love will call us to even more radical action. To give when it makes no sense, to stand when it costs us influence, to welcome when it stretches our boundaries, and to trust God more than our own resources.
It’s not always tidy or comfortable—but it’s always worth it.
Don’t Explain It Away. Live It.
This is not just a principle for the early disciples.
It’s a call for us, right here, right now.
Let’s not explain it away.
Let’s live it—together.
Do I always live it? No, not always. But I sure make it my desire to—rather than try and explain it away.