Abstract

With its snappy tune and hand motions, The Village People’s song “Y. M. C. A.” 1 is still going strong after almost fifty years in various incarnations as disco chart topper, gay anthem, and most recently, a presidential theme song. Though enjoying widespread popularity, it especially appeals to young men trying to make their way in the world, and by all means, “have a good time” along the way.
Our text features a “young man named Eutychus” who suffers a harrowing experience late one night. His name means “Fortunate” or “Lucky.” Unfortunately, however, this night Eutychus nods off to sleep and falls out a third-story window to the ground where he’s “picked up dead” (Acts 20:9). Cue “Y. M. C. A.”: “Young man, there’s no need to feel down, I said / Young man, pick yourself off the ground.” Yeah, well, dead Eutychus can’t do that. But luckily, Paul resuscitates him, and thus Eutychus lives up to his name.
Young men have a mixed reputation in the book of Acts. They first appear as prospective Spirit-inspired visionaries (2:17). Their first actual assignment, however, is rather less auspicious, serving as the burial squad for Ananias and Sapphira, who have dropped dead for defrauding the fledgling Christ fellowship (5:5, 10).
The next young man is the most notorious and notable. Saul (a.k.a. Paul) emerges as a zealous young man supervising the execution of Stephen, who was a bold witness to Christ (7:58–8:1). This is part of Saul’s violent anti-Christ campaign, which the risen Jesus soon halts by zapping Saul to the ground with a blinding light and transforming him from arch persecutor of the church to its chief promoter (9:1–18). Later, Paul himself becomes the target of a murder plot. Another young man, Paul’s nephew, as it happens, gets wind of the scheme and duly informs the Roman authorities, thus saving Paul’s life (24:16–22).
And then there’s Eutychus, whom Paul revives after the young man’s deadly plummet from an upstairs window. This event evokes young Saul/Paul’s own crash landing on the Damascus Road and rehabilitation by Christ. Though Paul is not the primary cause of Eutychus’s grounding (as Jesus was of Saul’s), Paul is partly responsible.
Eutychus’s disastrous fall results from falling into a “deep sleep” on an open window ledge. But he hadn’t sunk into a drunken stupor. He wasn’t carousing at a wild frat party or all-night dive bar. He is part of an assembly of believers in Troas listening to Paul speak at a Sunday (“first day of the week”) service. He is trying to listen, but it gets hard to stay awake as Paul keeps “speaking until midnight” (20:7–9). That’s 12:00 midnight, starting the next day (Monday), not 12:00 noon on Sunday, when many a child, young man—and not a few old men—start nodding off if modern preachers exceed their homiletic limits. Doubtless Paul has a lot to say; he plans “to leave the next day” (20:7) and expecting increasing danger ahead, he knows this may be the last time he sees these friends. Still, Paul, give it a rest, man. Audiences can only take in so much. (Pause for current audience laughter about longwinded preachers and short attention spans.)
While we might cut Eutychus some slack about falling asleep at a normal sleeping hour (see Luke 11:5–7), we might still question the wisdom of his seating choice. Silly boy, teetering on an open windowsill: only one way to go if you drop off to sleep, “drop” being the key word. But we don’t know why he’s in this spot. Likely a big crowd showed up to hear Paul, and perhaps the window seat was the only place Eutychus could squeeze into. Perhaps he chose this place for its access to the cool night air so he could stay alert to Paul’s message. Who knows?
We can imagine a variety of scenarios from foolish to funny, particularly since the author of Acts favors entertaining and “rollicking” stories, as Matthew Skinner notes. 2 But Acts is no beach-read collection of amusing anecdotes. Every story serves a theological and spiritual purpose to challenge and edify God’s people. As Skinner continues, “The rollicking character of the [overall Acts] story issues a tacit invitation to praise, worship, and wonder.” Consider all the fascinating, even fun, ways God works in Christ.
So, what is God up to in this lively worship story? Common interpretations highlight contrasting profiles: on the one side, a laudatory sketch of Paul’s heroic ministry; on the other, a cautionary tale of Eutychus’s spiritual immaturity. But these character lines are not so sharply drawn.
For Paul’s part, he clearly stands out as a commanding preacher, teacher, worship-leader (the term “broken bread” in Acts 20:11 has a eucharistic flavor), and miracle-worker. Raising someone from the dead puts him in elite company with Jesus (Luke 7:11–17; 8:49–56) and Peter (Acts 9:36–43). But in the present vignette, Paul’s ministry of pastoral care leaves something to be desired.
After Eutychus’s shocking fall, Paul goes downstairs, gathers the limp young man in his arms, and announces to anyone in earshot, “Do not be alarmed, for his life is in him” (20:10). That is, the “dead” (20:9) youth is alive. Wonderful! But that’s the end of the matter for Paul. No hanging around to tend to Eutychus’s post-traumatic distress. Paul heads right back upstairs, “and after he had broken bread and eaten” (a quick Eucharist and/or midnight snack), “he continued to converse with them until dawn, and then he left” (20:11). A whirlwind of late-night, last-minute activity, of which the Eutychus incident is a mere hiccup. Or so it seems.
As for Eutychus, the terrible consequences of his falling asleep during Paul’s farewell address aligns him with Peter and other apostles in their weakest, inattentive moments when they succumb to sleep and almost miss Jesus’s transfiguration (Luke 9:28–26) and fail to prayerfully support Jesus during his agonizing struggle before his arrest (22:39–46). Watchfulness is a vital spiritual virtue (12:35–40; 20:34–36), which Eutychus appears to lack.
Yet I’m not sure this is the main point of the story. Again, give young Eutychus credit for hanging in there as long as he does. More to the point, the narrative offers no rebuke of Eutychus’s character or sleeping on the job, as Jesus scolded his somnolent disciples (Luke 22:46), and as The Odyssey ripped Elpenor, “the youngest in our ranks, none too brave in battle, none too sound in mind,” who “sodden with wine . . . bedded down on [Circe’s] roofs,” awakened with a start at dawn, and in his hungover haze, dove “headfirst from the roof,” broke his neck, and “his soul flew to death” (10.608–617). 3
I’m inclined to interpret the Eutychus episode less as a moral lesson (Stay alert!) than as a morale booster (Keep hope alive!). The effect of Eutychus’s rejuvenation is more significant than the cause of his death. Note well the story’s last line: “Meanwhile they had taken the boy away alive and were not a little comforted” (Acts 20:12). The final passive verb form without a specified subject is what biblical scholars call a divine passive, presuming God as the actor. Hence the believers in Troas were greatly comforted by God.
God-in-Christ-through-the-Spirit is the main character-in-action throughout Acts, not Paul or Peter or any other human agent. I’ve already suggested that Paul is not the best comforter in the present incident, and he’s also not the resurrector. Only God gives, sustains, and restores life, as both Paul and Peter strongly assert. They are but humble instruments of God’s peace and power (see Acts 3:14–16; 14:14–18).
The book of Acts tracks a macro-story of the amazing progress of God’s gospel from Jerusalem to Rome, overcoming numerous obstacles along the way. But it’s not all smooth sailing. God does not micromanage or steamroll the process but rather works patiently with and through flawed individuals and communities beset by internal struggles and external hostilities. The plan and purpose of God (2:23; 20:27) evolve amid a swirl of disruptions, detours, dissensions, and debates.
One group of local citizens protests that Paul and his mission team “have been turning the world upside down” (17:6). Indeed, they have. The message of the crucified-risen Jesus Messiah is mindboggling and world-toppling—for believers—as much as for skeptics and opponents. No one knows this more than Paul, whose whole life has been upended by Christ. Followers of Christ, today as much as in the time of Acts, need persisting comfort, encouragement, wisdom, and energy to thrive in a topsy-turvy world. These resources are found most palpably in communities of the suffering-and-strengthening, dying-and-living Christ.
That’s what the Eutychus story is all about: a story of hope and resilience, falling and rising (see Luke 2:33), pressing upward and onward through troubled times. Maybe the Paul who preaches, teaches, resuscitates, breaks bread, eats bread, and moves on down the road—all in a jampacked day and night’s work—isn’t such a bad pastor after all. 4
Footnotes
1
The Village People, Cruisin’ (Casablanca Records, 1978).
2
Matthew Skinner, Acts, IBC (Westminster John Knox, 2025), 12.
3
Homer, The Odyssey, trans. Robert Fagles (Penguin, 1996).
4
For further discussion, see the longer article by Scott Spencer in this issue of Interpretation, “Open-Air Acts: Navigating Life’s Ups and Downs with Comedy and Creativity (Acts 9:23–31; 20:7–12)”; and “Wise Up, Young Man: The Moral Vision of Saul and Other νεανίσκοι in Acts,” in Acts and Ethics, ed. Thomas E. Phillips (Sheffield Phoenix, 2005), 34–48.
