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From Here to Everywhere, Week 22 — The Book of Acts
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Connected by scripture or shared themes.
From Here to Everywhere, Week 22 — The Book of Acts
Continue exploring
Connected by scripture or shared themes.
Jesus gave a powerful promise to his disciples at his ascension: "You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria and to the ends of the earth." This is the heart of Acts—the story of God's Word spreading from Jerusalem to the ends of the earth, empowered by the Holy Spirit.
We are walking through the book of Acts as a church in our series From Here to Everywhere. Last week, Pastor Helen taught us about Paul's farewell address to the Ephesian elders. This week, we're looking at Paul's journey to Jerusalem and everything that unfolds from that decision.
Let's read Acts 21:1-14. After traveling through various cities—Cos, Rhodes, Patara, Phoenicia, Tyre, and Caesarea—Paul and his companions encounter urgent warnings not to go to Jerusalem.
In Caesarea, a prophet named Agabus comes with a symbolic prophetic action. He takes Paul's belt (which was more like a rope) and ties his own hands and feet with it, saying, "The Holy Spirit says, 'In this way, the Jewish leaders in Jerusalem will bind the owner of this belt and hand him over to the Gentiles.'" This echoes the story of Jesus himself.
It's not just Agabus who warns Paul. In verse 4, the disciples urged by the Holy Spirit tell him not to go. In verse 12, everyone pleads with Paul not to go to Jerusalem. The natural conclusion would be: Surely God doesn't want Paul to go.
But Paul's response is striking: "Why are you weeping and breaking my heart? I am not only ready to be bound but also to die in Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus."
Paul's companions don't understand him. They've journeyed with him, yet they cannot see what he sees. This mirrors Jesus in Matthew 16, when he tells his disciples he must go to Jerusalem and face death—and they try to defend him from this calling.
"The Lord's will be done."
When they finally hear Paul's resolve, this is their response. They surrender to his conviction.
The way of Jesus is often misunderstood by others. We must listen to community and seek wise counsel—but ultimately, our life is accountable to one audience: God. As Acts 5 says, we must obey God over human beings. Paul had a melody in his heart that nobody could quite hear. Though it pained him deeply, he forged ahead.
What did Paul understand that others couldn't? The way of Jesus is suffering.
Let us not forget: we worship a crucified Messiah. To follow in step with Jesus means our feet will walk in his footsteps. All roads inevitably lead to suffering.
But let me be clear: this is not suffering for suffering's sake—not some medieval notion of purgation. The aim is always Jesus. But in this world, when we follow Jesus, we will face sufferings because we are walking in the footsteps of our Lord.
Jesus himself says in John 15: "If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first." When people follow Jesus, their lives begin to resemble his.
In the chapters that follow, Paul faces exactly what Agabus prophesied:
Paul is caught in a situation he would never have chosen. Yet through it all, his resolve never wavers.
Paul gets a complicated reputation today, but as I reflected on his life this week, I was stunned by its beauty. Here was a man whose every square inch was submitted to the way of Jesus. There was no part of his life he was not willing to lay down for the sake of sharing Jesus's message.
Before Paul stands a door. Beyond it lies Jerusalem—and he knows suffering awaits. He doesn't know the exact details, but he has been warned many times. Political systems will toss him back and forth. Religious leaders will oppose him. Creation itself will crash in on him.
And yet, tearfully but willingly, Paul walks through the door.
"I am not only ready to be bound, but also to die in Jerusalem for the name of Jesus."
Why? Because Paul has grasped something few of us do: the wisdom of the cross. He understands that through death comes new life. For those in Christ who are willing to stare death in its face, there is power—because in that moment, we reveal death to be the sham it is. It does not have the final word. When we are empowered and sent out by Jesus, when we are willing to say, "Throw your best at me," we reveal death to be a fraud—because Christ is the truest reality.
As Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 1:
"We preach Christ crucified—a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to the Gentiles. But to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength."
But what is the gas that fuels this engine? What propels Paul to be willing to step into such suffering?
To answer this, we must jump to Acts 26, where Paul stands before King Herod Agrippa. By this time, Paul has been in custody for years. Governor Festus needs to send Paul to Rome to stand before Caesar, but he has no charges to bring. So Festus arranges for Paul to speak before King Agrippa.
Paul gives his defense, recounting his life. He describes his time as a zealous Pharisee, then his Damascus encounter—his confrontation with the risen Jesus. And here, in this third telling of that encounter, new details emerge. Jesus commissions Paul directly:
"Get up and stand on your feet. I have appeared to you and appoint you as a servant and as a witness of what you have seen and will see of me. I will rescue you from your own people and from the Gentiles. I am sending you to them to open their eyes and to turn them from darkness to light and from the power of Satan to God so that they may receive forgiveness of sins and a place among those who are sanctified by faith in me."
This language mirrors the callings of the Old Testament prophets—Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel. When they encounter God, they fall to their knees in humility. And here, at the very beginning of Paul's ministry, Jesus gives him three crucial things:
Jesus tells Paul that he has appeared to him. At the base of our faith is the recognition that we have been with Jesus. It is not enough to know about Jesus in a vague religious sense. You must know that Jesus has come to meet with you.
This is what empowered the prophets of old. Only because Isaiah saw God was he empowered to stand up and do what he was called to do. You and I need to know Jesus at an experiential level. Our faith is not merely intellect—it is experience. If you do not have a vital relationship with Christ, you will not be able to endure the suffering that may come.
Jesus says: "I will rescue you from your own people and from the Gentiles." What a beautiful vision—that God is a God of rescue. God promises Paul at the onset that he will be delivered from what lies ahead.
We find this same promise in Jeremiah 1, another prophetic calling: "Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you and I will rescue you."
We worship the God of deliverance—the God of the Exodus, the God who comes to meet us in the eleventh hour. Interestingly, the word for "rescue" is aggressive in nature. It's the same word Jesus uses in the Sermon on the Mount when he says, "If your right eye causes you to stumble, gouge it out." God is saying, "I will gouge you out of trouble. I will take you out of harm's way. In the final moments, I will rescue you."
Finally, Jesus says, "I am sending you. I am calling you to be a witness." He will send Paul to open eyes, to turn people from darkness to light, from the power of Satan to God, so they may receive forgiveness of sins.
These words come straight from Isaiah 42—a prophetic promise to be sent out to spread the message of deliverance, not just for ourselves but for others.
With these three promises in mind, let me retell the story of Acts 21-26:
Paul went to Jerusalem knowing suffering awaited him. Crowds seized him in the temple and sought to kill him. But God delivered him through a Roman commander's intervention, and to the angry crowd, he preached Jesus.
When a plot formed to murder him, God delivered him again, revealing the conspiracy and providing safe passage to Caesarea. And before Governor Felix, he preached Jesus.
For two years Paul remained imprisoned. Yet the gospel was not imprisoned. Though chains bound his hands, opportunities opened before him. And to Felix and his household, he preached Jesus.
When Festus became governor and pressure mounted to send Paul back to Jerusalem for another ambush, God delivered him through Roman justice and Paul's appeal to Caesar. And before Governor Festus, he preached Jesus.
Then King Agrippa came with great pomp. Standing in chains, Paul was given another platform. He told of Christ's death and resurrection, his conversion, the heavenly vision that sent him to proclaim light to Jew and Gentile alike. And to King Agrippa and all the assembled leaders, he preached Jesus.
Again and again, God delivered Paul. Again and again, Paul proclaimed Christ.
Through riots, trials, plots, governors, kings, and prisons, God carried his servant toward Rome—the city Paul longed to visit, the center of the empire, the place God had promised he would testify. There too, he preached the good news of Jesus.
On one hand, Paul endured great suffering. His journey was harsh. Many people, even in that Spirit-filled church of Acts 2 and 4, eventually disregarded him and abandoned him. They thought his life was too hard.
But compared to that commissioning call—compared to his mandate to be a witness—Paul's life was an overwhelming success. Paul preached the good news of Jesus, and he was delivered from suffering time and time again.
As I prepared this sermon, my conclusion was: We must follow the way of Paul. His life uniquely shows us what it means to be saturated with the good news of Jesus. His life so permeates the way of Jesus that his life began to emulate Christ's.
But then I realized: there is no power in those words. Paul didn't do what he did because he was a good Christian. The only reason Paul was able to do what he was called to do was because Paul had an encounter with the living Christ.
Think about this: Paul's life was one of persecuting the church. He was the last person Jesus would ever call—or so it seemed. Paul didn't even believe in Jesus's resurrection. But on the road to Damascus, the risen Christ came to minister to Paul.
The good news is this: it is not about our own management. If it were up to our own planning, we'd be in trouble. But the good news of Jesus is that even in our disobedience, he is so good that he interrupts our story. The risen Christ comes into the center of our narrative, interrupts it, and calls us to a new way. That's what empowers us to do the work he's called us to do.
You and I need to have a knowledge of the love of Christ that comes to meet us. As Paul writes in Romans 5: "While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." While we were disobedient, Christ came to rescue us.
For me, these words are deeply impactful because I'm so often aware of ways I'm trying to manage my own life—the headaches, the clenching of my teeth, my own attempts to control my circumstances. And I fall into the lie that I've got to manage my way out of this in order to receive the love of Christ. But time and time again, I'm reminded: in moments of my weakness, there's Christ before me, calling me back.
If you're here today and you feel like your life is so far from this vision, maybe you're living in disobedience to Christ's call—let me tell you: there is a God who loves you. The risen Christ comes in the middle of our journeys, interrupts our stories, meets us in that place, and calls us forward.
Paul is not the hero. Jesus is the hero who empowers Paul to be who he's called to be.
As we come to the table this morning, we receive the visible, tangible reminder of what Christ has done for us. Christ's death is not a distant religious fact—it's personal truth. Christ loves you. Christ pursues you. Christ died for you. Receive the forgiveness of Christ. Receive the invitation into community with him and with your church family.
Maybe you're here today and you need to confess or bring a burden to the cross. There's a cross available, and our team would love to pray with you. There is no running from God. If you've walked away in disobedience, day one begins tomorrow. Christ is always calling us again.
Jesus gave a powerful promise to his disciples at his ascension: "You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria and to the ends of the earth." This is the heart of Acts—the story of God's Word spreading from Jerusalem to the ends of the earth, empowered by the Holy Spirit.
We are walking through the book of Acts as a church in our series From Here to Everywhere. Last week, Pastor Helen taught us about Paul's farewell address to the Ephesian elders. This week, we're looking at Paul's journey to Jerusalem and everything that unfolds from that decision.
Let's read Acts 21:1-14. After traveling through various cities—Cos, Rhodes, Patara, Phoenicia, Tyre, and Caesarea—Paul and his companions encounter urgent warnings not to go to Jerusalem.
In Caesarea, a prophet named Agabus comes with a symbolic prophetic action. He takes Paul's belt (which was more like a rope) and ties his own hands and feet with it, saying, "The Holy Spirit says, 'In this way, the Jewish leaders in Jerusalem will bind the owner of this belt and hand him over to the Gentiles.'" This echoes the story of Jesus himself.
It's not just Agabus who warns Paul. In verse 4, the disciples urged by the Holy Spirit tell him not to go. In verse 12, everyone pleads with Paul not to go to Jerusalem. The natural conclusion would be: Surely God doesn't want Paul to go.
But Paul's response is striking: "Why are you weeping and breaking my heart? I am not only ready to be bound but also to die in Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus."
Paul's companions don't understand him. They've journeyed with him, yet they cannot see what he sees. This mirrors Jesus in Matthew 16, when he tells his disciples he must go to Jerusalem and face death—and they try to defend him from this calling.
"The Lord's will be done."
When they finally hear Paul's resolve, this is their response. They surrender to his conviction.
The way of Jesus is often misunderstood by others. We must listen to community and seek wise counsel—but ultimately, our life is accountable to one audience: God. As Acts 5 says, we must obey God over human beings. Paul had a melody in his heart that nobody could quite hear. Though it pained him deeply, he forged ahead.
What did Paul understand that others couldn't? The way of Jesus is suffering.
Let us not forget: we worship a crucified Messiah. To follow in step with Jesus means our feet will walk in his footsteps. All roads inevitably lead to suffering.
But let me be clear: this is not suffering for suffering's sake—not some medieval notion of purgation. The aim is always Jesus. But in this world, when we follow Jesus, we will face sufferings because we are walking in the footsteps of our Lord.
Jesus himself says in John 15: "If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first." When people follow Jesus, their lives begin to resemble his.
In the chapters that follow, Paul faces exactly what Agabus prophesied:
Paul is caught in a situation he would never have chosen. Yet through it all, his resolve never wavers.
Paul gets a complicated reputation today, but as I reflected on his life this week, I was stunned by its beauty. Here was a man whose every square inch was submitted to the way of Jesus. There was no part of his life he was not willing to lay down for the sake of sharing Jesus's message.
Before Paul stands a door. Beyond it lies Jerusalem—and he knows suffering awaits. He doesn't know the exact details, but he has been warned many times. Political systems will toss him back and forth. Religious leaders will oppose him. Creation itself will crash in on him.
And yet, tearfully but willingly, Paul walks through the door.
"I am not only ready to be bound, but also to die in Jerusalem for the name of Jesus."
Why? Because Paul has grasped something few of us do: the wisdom of the cross. He understands that through death comes new life. For those in Christ who are willing to stare death in its face, there is power—because in that moment, we reveal death to be the sham it is. It does not have the final word. When we are empowered and sent out by Jesus, when we are willing to say, "Throw your best at me," we reveal death to be a fraud—because Christ is the truest reality.
As Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 1:
"We preach Christ crucified—a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to the Gentiles. But to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength."
But what is the gas that fuels this engine? What propels Paul to be willing to step into such suffering?
To answer this, we must jump to Acts 26, where Paul stands before King Herod Agrippa. By this time, Paul has been in custody for years. Governor Festus needs to send Paul to Rome to stand before Caesar, but he has no charges to bring. So Festus arranges for Paul to speak before King Agrippa.
Paul gives his defense, recounting his life. He describes his time as a zealous Pharisee, then his Damascus encounter—his confrontation with the risen Jesus. And here, in this third telling of that encounter, new details emerge. Jesus commissions Paul directly:
"Get up and stand on your feet. I have appeared to you and appoint you as a servant and as a witness of what you have seen and will see of me. I will rescue you from your own people and from the Gentiles. I am sending you to them to open their eyes and to turn them from darkness to light and from the power of Satan to God so that they may receive forgiveness of sins and a place among those who are sanctified by faith in me."
This language mirrors the callings of the Old Testament prophets—Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel. When they encounter God, they fall to their knees in humility. And here, at the very beginning of Paul's ministry, Jesus gives him three crucial things:
Jesus tells Paul that he has appeared to him. At the base of our faith is the recognition that we have been with Jesus. It is not enough to know about Jesus in a vague religious sense. You must know that Jesus has come to meet with you.
This is what empowered the prophets of old. Only because Isaiah saw God was he empowered to stand up and do what he was called to do. You and I need to know Jesus at an experiential level. Our faith is not merely intellect—it is experience. If you do not have a vital relationship with Christ, you will not be able to endure the suffering that may come.
Jesus says: "I will rescue you from your own people and from the Gentiles." What a beautiful vision—that God is a God of rescue. God promises Paul at the onset that he will be delivered from what lies ahead.
We find this same promise in Jeremiah 1, another prophetic calling: "Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you and I will rescue you."
We worship the God of deliverance—the God of the Exodus, the God who comes to meet us in the eleventh hour. Interestingly, the word for "rescue" is aggressive in nature. It's the same word Jesus uses in the Sermon on the Mount when he says, "If your right eye causes you to stumble, gouge it out." God is saying, "I will gouge you out of trouble. I will take you out of harm's way. In the final moments, I will rescue you."
Finally, Jesus says, "I am sending you. I am calling you to be a witness." He will send Paul to open eyes, to turn people from darkness to light, from the power of Satan to God, so they may receive forgiveness of sins.
These words come straight from Isaiah 42—a prophetic promise to be sent out to spread the message of deliverance, not just for ourselves but for others.
With these three promises in mind, let me retell the story of Acts 21-26:
Paul went to Jerusalem knowing suffering awaited him. Crowds seized him in the temple and sought to kill him. But God delivered him through a Roman commander's intervention, and to the angry crowd, he preached Jesus.
When a plot formed to murder him, God delivered him again, revealing the conspiracy and providing safe passage to Caesarea. And before Governor Felix, he preached Jesus.
For two years Paul remained imprisoned. Yet the gospel was not imprisoned. Though chains bound his hands, opportunities opened before him. And to Felix and his household, he preached Jesus.
When Festus became governor and pressure mounted to send Paul back to Jerusalem for another ambush, God delivered him through Roman justice and Paul's appeal to Caesar. And before Governor Festus, he preached Jesus.
Then King Agrippa came with great pomp. Standing in chains, Paul was given another platform. He told of Christ's death and resurrection, his conversion, the heavenly vision that sent him to proclaim light to Jew and Gentile alike. And to King Agrippa and all the assembled leaders, he preached Jesus.
Again and again, God delivered Paul. Again and again, Paul proclaimed Christ.
Through riots, trials, plots, governors, kings, and prisons, God carried his servant toward Rome—the city Paul longed to visit, the center of the empire, the place God had promised he would testify. There too, he preached the good news of Jesus.
On one hand, Paul endured great suffering. His journey was harsh. Many people, even in that Spirit-filled church of Acts 2 and 4, eventually disregarded him and abandoned him. They thought his life was too hard.
But compared to that commissioning call—compared to his mandate to be a witness—Paul's life was an overwhelming success. Paul preached the good news of Jesus, and he was delivered from suffering time and time again.
As I prepared this sermon, my conclusion was: We must follow the way of Paul. His life uniquely shows us what it means to be saturated with the good news of Jesus. His life so permeates the way of Jesus that his life began to emulate Christ's.
But then I realized: there is no power in those words. Paul didn't do what he did because he was a good Christian. The only reason Paul was able to do what he was called to do was because Paul had an encounter with the living Christ.
Think about this: Paul's life was one of persecuting the church. He was the last person Jesus would ever call—or so it seemed. Paul didn't even believe in Jesus's resurrection. But on the road to Damascus, the risen Christ came to minister to Paul.
The good news is this: it is not about our own management. If it were up to our own planning, we'd be in trouble. But the good news of Jesus is that even in our disobedience, he is so good that he interrupts our story. The risen Christ comes into the center of our narrative, interrupts it, and calls us to a new way. That's what empowers us to do the work he's called us to do.
You and I need to have a knowledge of the love of Christ that comes to meet us. As Paul writes in Romans 5: "While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." While we were disobedient, Christ came to rescue us.
For me, these words are deeply impactful because I'm so often aware of ways I'm trying to manage my own life—the headaches, the clenching of my teeth, my own attempts to control my circumstances. And I fall into the lie that I've got to manage my way out of this in order to receive the love of Christ. But time and time again, I'm reminded: in moments of my weakness, there's Christ before me, calling me back.
If you're here today and you feel like your life is so far from this vision, maybe you're living in disobedience to Christ's call—let me tell you: there is a God who loves you. The risen Christ comes in the middle of our journeys, interrupts our stories, meets us in that place, and calls us forward.
Paul is not the hero. Jesus is the hero who empowers Paul to be who he's called to be.
As we come to the table this morning, we receive the visible, tangible reminder of what Christ has done for us. Christ's death is not a distant religious fact—it's personal truth. Christ loves you. Christ pursues you. Christ died for you. Receive the forgiveness of Christ. Receive the invitation into community with him and with your church family.
Maybe you're here today and you need to confess or bring a burden to the cross. There's a cross available, and our team would love to pray with you. There is no running from God. If you've walked away in disobedience, day one begins tomorrow. Christ is always calling us again.
