Embrace the Courage to Encourage
Today's post is from the sermon with the same title from November 5, 2023. In this passage, we are dealing with a part of the Bible that's packed with suspense, transformation, and... yes, encouragement. We’re looking at Acts 9:26-30. It's a story about a man named Saul—yeah, that Saul. The one who was infamous for hunting down people who believed in Jesus. But something radical happened to him; he encountered Christ, and his life flipped upside down—or right side up, depending on how you look at it.
But here’s where it gets interesting: even after Saul’s life changed when he tried to join the disciples, they were afraid of him. They couldn’t forget his past. They weren’t ready to trust the change they saw.
They were thinking that Saul was faking it. That it could have been an instance of the wolf in sheep’s clothing. If he couldn’t destroy this new movement from the outside, he would try to destroy it from the inside.
Enter Barnabas. His name means “son of encouragement.” And that’s exactly what he was to Saul. When everyone else saw Saul’s history, Barnabas saw his potential. When others stepped back in fear, Barnabas stepped forward in faith. He did something courageous—he encouraged Saul, and that made all the difference.
Here’s the question I want us to wrestle with today: Could we be a Barnabas to the Sauls we encounter? What if that person you see with a bad history is just waiting for someone to step in and change their story with a simple act of encouragement?
It does wonders for people when we stand up for them, stand behind them, and uplift them.
Christians who intentionally encourage others are used by God in mighty ways for His kingdom and His glory.
Let’s learn how to be not just hearers of the word but doers of the encouraging word God calls us to be.
Remember, Saul wasn't just any new believer; he was infamous for his prior persecution of the Church. His reputation preceded him. The disciples knew Saul as the one who watched everyone’s garments as Stephen was stoned to death, the one ravaging the church.
The early Christians had learned to be cautious. They had seen deception and danger before. Their skepticism was a survival mechanism. They were not merely doubting a story; they were guarding their lives and their community.
Even in the face of potential proof of Saul’s conversion, accepting such a drastic change in someone known for such violence was a staggering challenge. Change in someone’s life, especially someone like Saul, can be the hardest thing to accept because it confronts our own fears and prejudices.
The disciples had a duty to protect the fledgling community. Any risk, especially one as significant as welcoming a former persecutor, had to be weighed carefully. Their fear was not just for personal safety but for the well-being of the entire body of believers.
But herein lies the tension. How far do we go to protect the flock, and how far will we go to encourage a transformed life?
It sets the stage for the vital role of encouragement and advocacy in Saul’s life. A role that each of us is called to emulate as we encounter the “Sauls” of our own day and age.
Take the Initiative to Build Bridges
Barnabas didn't just stand by; he took hold of Saul. He didn't just offer warm thoughts; he led him to the apostles. This is our call, church: to be bridge-builders in a world full of walls.
Now, let's be clear: this wasn't about Barnabas being a nice guy; this was about the kingdom of God expanding through intentional action. Barnabas understood something profound about the nature of God's family—it's not a club of the perfect; it's a home for the redeemed. And every soul, no matter how marred by the past, is a candidate for God’s redemptive love. Bridge-building is not just a good thing to do; it's a God thing to do.
Think about this: Every single one of us who has trusted Jesus as our Savior, at some point, someone took a step toward us. Maybe it was a parent, a friend, or even a stranger, but someone bridged the gap. They didn't wait for us to clean up our act. They didn't demand we make the first move. They saw us, broken and all, and they extended grace. Just like Barnabas did for Saul, they did for us. And thank God they did, right?
We live in a world where it's so easy to put up walls. We erect them for our security, for our comfort, for the illusion of purity. But Jesus—our Savior, the one we follow—He was the ultimate bridge-builder. He crossed the greatest divide, the chasm of sin and death, to bring us into fellowship with God. And if we claim to walk in His steps, how can we be content to walk past the chasms in our own community, in our own church, without extending that same bridge-building grace?
So here's the challenge: Who is your Saul? Who is that person that God has placed in your life that you're perhaps hesitant to reach out to because of their past or because of your preconceptions? I'm calling us, church, to mirror the heart of Barnabas, to embrace that courage, to reach across whatever divide stands before us, and to take that initiative. Because when we build bridges, we are walking in the footsteps of Jesus. We are participating in the ministry of reconciliation that He has entrusted to us, a ministry that transforms lives, including our own. Let's be those people, the ones who make the first move, the ones who reach out, the ones who take the initiative to build bridges.
Advocate for the Unlikely Ones
In Acts 9:27, we see Barnabas stepping into the gap for Saul, advocating for this unlikely convert in the midst of suspicion and outright fear. "He took him and brought him to the apostles." Barnabas didn't merely accompany Saul; he staked his own reputation on the authenticity of Saul's faith. This is the kind of advocacy that changes lives, the kind that sees beyond the scars of one's past and believes in the imprint of Christ's redemption. This is what we're called to do: to be advocates for the unlikely ones, for those whose stories have yet to be redeemed by the chorus of grace.
Let's pause and consider that advocacy is not passive. It's not a silent nod of approval. It's active; it's vocal; it's standing alongside someone whom others might reject. Advocacy means saying, "I believe in what God is doing in this person's life, and I want you to see it too." It's seeing a Saul—a persecutor, a villain in the eyes of many—and recognizing a Paul, an apostle, a champion for the gospel. It's understanding that God doesn't call the equipped; He equips the called, and sometimes He calls the ones we least expect.
And isn't it true? We all love a good redemption story—after it unfolds. We admire the before-and-after, the dramatic change. But are we willing to be part of the messy middle, the uncertain chapters where the outcome isn't yet clear? That's where advocacy steps in. It requires vision—the ability to see what God sees in a person, not just what the past dictates. Church, this kind of vision isn't just for the few; it's for all of us who follow Christ.
You know, there’s a reality we must confront: it's much easier to advocate for those who are like us, those whose stories make us comfortable. But Jesus didn't call us to comfort; He called us to cross-bearing, to following Him into the places that would stretch us, that would challenge our preconceptions. He called us to love the unlovely, to touch the untouchable, to believe in the unbelievable. And sometimes, that means standing up for the unlikely one who has encountered the transformative power of the gospel.
So, who is the Saul in your life? Who has God uniquely positioned you to advocate for? It could be a neighbor, a coworker, or a family member. It could be someone from a background you don't understand, someone who's been labeled "too far gone" or "hopeless." Church, let's rise to the occasion. Let’s be like Barnabas, who, when he had every reason to doubt Saul, chose instead to believe in the redeeming work of Jesus in his life. Let's advocate for the unlikely ones, for in doing so, we may just be unlocking the door for a future Paul to walk through, and how glorious that would be—for them, for us, and for the kingdom of God.
Foster Authentic Community
Acts 9:28 gives us a glimpse into the early Christian community through the experience of Saul: "So Saul stayed with them and moved about freely in Jerusalem, speaking boldly in the name of the Lord." This was no superficial community. This group of people lived out their faith together and walked the streets of Jerusalem with the courage that comes from genuine fellowship. This is the kind of authentic community we are called to foster—a community that is not defined by its exterior walls but by the strength of its internal bonds.
Now, let's be honest: authentic community is not always easy. It’s messy. It involves real people with real problems. But here’s the thing: It’s in the mess where God does His best work. It’s where we’re forced to practice what we preach, where the rubber meets the road, where our faith becomes sight. In a real community, people don't just share beliefs; they share their lives, their fears, their hopes, and their failures.
When Saul was brought into the fold by Barnabas, he wasn't just added to a list; he was woven into the fabric of the community. They ate together, prayed together, and yes, they probably even argued together. But through it all, they grew together. This is the model for us, the church. We are called not to a Sunday-only faith but to a 24/7, walk-it-out, do-life-together faith. That's the soil in which discipleship takes root and flourishes.
In fostering an authentic community, we have to be intentional. It won’t happen by accident. We have to open our homes, our lives, and even our schedules. It means prioritizing relationships over routines, choosing connection over convenience. It's about creating spaces where people like Saul, with all their past and all their baggage, can move about freely, speak boldly, can be themselves as they are transformed by the love of Jesus.
So look around you. Who in this community is waiting on the sidelines, longing to be part of the game? Who needs an invitation to not just attend but to belong? We’re not just a crowd gathered in a building; we are the body of Christ, meant to function together, to support one another, to celebrate, and to sorrow together. Each one of us is essential, from the seasoned saint to the new convert, from the worship team member to the quiet skeptic in the back row.
I challenge you: Be an agent of authentic community. Reach out, draw in, and knit together. For when we do, we’ll find ourselves not just talking about the gospel but living it out in the most practical, life-changing ways. Let’s not settle for less. Let’s live out the bold, transformative community the early church modeled for us, and let’s start today.
Champion Bold Faith
In Acts 9:29-30, we witness the culmination of Saul's integration into the community and the ignition of his ministry: "He talked and debated with the Hellenistic Jews, but they tried to kill him. When the believers learned of this, they took him down to Caesarea and sent him off to Tarsus." Here, we see Saul, now part of the body, not just associating with the believers but actively engaging, speaking boldly, putting his newfound faith on the front lines. And this is the heartbeat of the message today: to champion a bold faith, a faith that does not shy away from challenge nor cower in the face of opposition.
Now, let's unpack this. To champion bold faith does not mean seeking out conflict for conflict's sake; rather, it means standing firm in the truth when the world presents its challenges. It means having conversations that matter, stepping into the arena of ideas, and declaring the truth of the Gospel with conviction and love. Saul was not content with a silent faith; he was driven by a faith that speaks, that engages, that debates
This kind of boldness doesn't come naturally to most of us. It's much easier to be quiet, to keep our heads down, to blend in. But that's not the life to which we're called. We're called to a life that mirrors the boldness of Christ, who spoke with authority, who confounded the wise, who declared the coming of the Kingdom without hesitation. This boldness is not born out of arrogance but out of a rock-solid certainty in the God we serve and the salvation He offers.
Church, it's time for us to rise up and be a people of bold faith. A bold faith that stands up for what is right, protects the vulnerable and shares the hope of the Gospel with a world in desperate need. This doesn't mean we will always have the answers or that we'll never face opposition. Look at Saul—he faced the threat of death for his boldness. But the community rallied around him, and together, they navigated the challenges.
So what does this mean for us? It means we are to support one another as we step out in faith. When one speaks boldly for the truth of the Gospel, we all stand with them, ready to offer support, prayer, and encouragement. It means that we are to be a people marked not just by what we stand against but by what we stand for: the transformative love of Christ.
In closing, I want to call each of us to consider how we might live out a bolder faith. Maybe it’s in conversation with a neighbor or in standing up for justice. Maybe it’s in sharing your testimony or in offering a defense for the hope that you have. Whatever it looks like for you, know this: you are not alone. You are part of a community that champions bold faith, a community that will support you, pray for you, and cheer you on as you proclaim the name of Jesus. So let's be bold, church. Let's champion a faith that moves mountains, that shakes the gates of hell, a faith that declares, "Our God reigns."
Conclusion:
We’re called to be encouragers – encouragers who intentionally foster faith, boldness, and community in the lives of others.
I challenge you to identify one person this week whom you can encourage. Imagine the impact if each one of us took that step.