Colliding With Christians (Collision part 1 of 4)

Now it came to pass, that when we had departed from them and set sail, running a straight course we came to Cos, the following day to Rhodes, and from there to Patara... And finding disciples, we stayed there seven days. They told Paul through the Spirit not to go up to Jerusalem... And as we stayed many days, a certain prophet named Agabus came down from Judea. When he had come to us, he took Paul's belt, bound his own hands and feet, and said, "Thus says the Holy Spirit, 'So shall the Jews at Jerusalem bind the man who owns this belt, and deliver him into the hands of the Gentiles.'" ... Then Paul answered, "What do you mean by weeping and breaking my heart? For I am ready not only to be bound, but also to die at Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus." So when he would not be persuaded, we ceased, saying, "The will of the Lord be done." (Acts 21:1–14)

When everyone you trust says "don't go," but you know God is sending you anyway—why would Paul still walk straight into a storm?

Walking Into a Perfect Storm

We're continuing our study in the book of Acts, in chapter 21, where Paul is on his journey back to Jerusalem—right into the middle of a perfect storm. A great deal was happening in both the Jewish and Roman worlds of the first century, and Paul knew that the only thing in front of him was tribulation, chains, prison, and difficulty. Yet he still went in that direction. That's challenging to us, because if many of us knew what was coming, we might try to find a way out. Paul doesn't.

Have you ever been utterly convinced that you were supposed to do something, but everyone you trusted disagreed with you? That's exactly the situation here. Paul is finishing his third missionary journey, traveling from Corinth up through Macedonia and down around the Aegean toward Jerusalem. He travels with at least eight companions—men like Luke, Timothy, Tychicus, Trophimus, and Gaius—many of them the fruit of his ministry in Galatia, Macedonia, Greece, and Asia Minor.

Why Go to Jerusalem?

Paul carries an offering received from the churches of those regions for the believers in Jerusalem, who were enduring famine and financial hardship. As you follow his final fifty-day journey from Philippi down to Jerusalem, a question begins to form: why go to Jerusalem? Why was it so important?

Back in Corinth, we read in Acts 20:3 that he stayed three months—the winter of AD 57–58. While there, a plot to take his life was uncovered. It's believed some of these were Jewish individuals from Judea who had marked him for death; later in our study we'll see them vow not to eat until Paul is dead. So Paul, ready to sail from Cenchrea toward Syria and his home church, changed his plans. Instead of taking the boat, he went north on foot through Macedonia, sending his eight companions ahead by sea.

In Philippi he celebrated the Passover and picked up Luke—his close friend, a Greek physician, author of the Gospel of Luke and of Acts. Paul wanted to reach Jerusalem in time for Pentecost: fifty days between Passover and Pentecost, and nine hundred miles to travel on foot and by boat.

"Chains and Tribulations Await You"

Everywhere Paul went, people gave him a word from the Spirit about what would happen at Jerusalem. Back in Acts 20:22 he says:

See, now I go bound in the spirit to Jerusalem, not knowing the things that will happen to me there, except that the Holy Spirit testifies in every city, saying that chains and tribulations await me.

In Corinth they warned him of the plot. In Philippi the believers who loved him and funded his work said, "Paul, don't go." From Philippi he and Luke sailed five days to Troas, and there too the warning came. Notice that from Troas, Paul sent his companions ahead by boat to Assos and walked twenty miles alone over uneven terrain. I believe he walked it alone to think and pray—Lord, do you want me to go? Someone else could carry this offering. Timothy could take it. Luke could take it. Have you ever been in that place, asking God what He wants you to do?

At Assos, at Mitylene, at Chios, at Samos, at Miletus—everywhere there were Christians, they said the same thing. The Ephesian elders pleaded with him too. And here's the key: this was not a discouraging word from the devil. It was a true prophetic word from God. Their information was correct.

Right Information, Wrong Application

You can make a strong case that while their information was right, their interpretation and application were wrong. We've all had the right information and still made the wrong decision. They reasoned: suffering is ahead, therefore don't go. But the prospect of trials does not always mean we shouldn't go that direction. They had the right facts but the wrong conclusion.

So Paul passed through Cos, Rhodes, and Patara, boarded a ship, and sailed past Cyprus to Tyre on the Syrian coast—a wealthy trade city between East and West. There, in Acts 21:4, the disciples "told Paul through the Spirit not to go up to Jerusalem." The same message yet again. As a side note, if these events took place in AD 58, Paul would have been in Philippi celebrating Passover this very week, roughly nineteen centuries ago—Passover that year fell on March 13.

From Tyre they came to Ptolemais for a day, just ninety miles from Jerusalem. By now the warnings were no longer merely spiritual; people in Ptolemais had recently been to Jerusalem and knew the real conditions on the ground.

Jerusalem on the Brink

We have both Christian and secular writings about Judea and Jerusalem in AD 58, during Nero's reign. The region was on the verge of chaos, alive with troublemakers, false prophets, and false messiahs. The Jews, weary of Roman occupation, were anticipating a triumphant Messiah who would cast off Rome—not realizing the Messiah had already come to seek and save the lost and establish a kingdom that was not of this world.

Out of these sects arose a band of assassins. The Jewish historian Josephus calls them the Sicarii—"dagger men." They hid short daggers beneath their flowing robes and in broad daylight, in crowded marketplaces, would stab their targets in the back, then conceal the weapon and even join the crowd crying out in shock. Josephus writes that "many were killed every day, until the fear became worse than the evil itself." Imagine the terror—people mysteriously assassinated daily in the open. Josephus says they even murdered men in the temple itself, on the feast days, to "purge" Judaism of blasphemers. And who was perhaps blasphemer number one on their list? Saul of Tarsus. They wanted Paul dead.

A City Under a Microscope

Jerusalem was continually on the brink of boiling over, so Rome kept Judea under closer watch than any other province. Governing there was almost a disciplinary assignment; if an uprising happened on your watch, you were dead. Remember Pontius Pilate—he knew that releasing Barabbas and crucifying Jesus was the way to avoid a rebellion. The governor at this time was Felix, and Rome feared another Jewish uprising.

The Christians were caught in the middle. To Rome, Christianity looked like just another rebellious sect of Judaism—except, unlike Judaism, it was spreading throughout the empire, causing uprisings in places like Ephesus. To the Jews, the Christians were blasphemers reaching out to Gentiles. And right in the middle stood Paul, the marked man. Everywhere he went, they said, "Don't go to Jerusalem—go to Spain if you must." But Paul said, "I must go to Jerusalem."

Caesarea, Philip, and Agabus

From Ptolemais Paul traveled thirty miles south to Caesarea, the Roman capital of Judea—a stunning city of more than 125,000, with Herod's palace, a theater for 5,000, a hippodrome, and a great harbor. Caesarea was also where the first Gentile Christians came from, for it was there that Peter carried the gospel to the Roman centurion Cornelius in Acts 10.

In Caesarea Paul stayed at the house of Philip the evangelist, "one of the seven." Acts 6 records the choosing of seven men of good reputation, full of the Spirit, and full of wisdom—the first deacons. One was Stephen, the first martyr; another was Philip. Twenty-five years later Philip is still walking with the Lord. He was the first Christian to preach the gospel outside Jerusalem and Judea—in Samaria (Acts 8)—and the first to carry it beyond, to the Ethiopian eunuch. In many ways he was the first Christian to fulfill the commission of Acts 1:8. Now we learn he has four virgin (unmarried) daughters who prophesied—a good evangelist, preacher, and father who raised his children in the Lord.

While Paul stayed many days, the prophet Agabus came down from Judea—a theatrical prophet in the tradition of Isaiah and Ezekiel. He took Paul's belt, bound his own hands and feet, and declared, "Thus says the Holy Spirit, 'So shall the Jews at Jerusalem bind the man who owns this belt, and deliver him into the hands of the Gentiles.'" Notice carefully: Agabus does not say, "Thus says the Lord, don't go." He simply declares what will happen. And he was right.

"We Pleaded With Him Not to Go"

Acts 21:12 says, "when we heard these things, both we and those from that place pleaded with him not to go up to Jerusalem." Who is the "we"? Luke, the author—along with Timothy, Tychicus, Trophimus, Gaius, the eight companions who had heard this warning in every city. Now only sixty miles away, they begged him.

It reminds me of the old story of the farmer caught in a flood. As the waters rise, a neighbor warns him to leave; he says, "I trust the Lord to save me." A man comes by in a boat; same answer. A helicopter lowers a line; same answer. Soon he's in heaven, puzzled, and asks God why he wasn't saved. God replies, "I sent your neighbor, I sent a boat, I sent a helicopter."

Was the warning to Paul false? No—it was exactly accurate. Chains and tribulations truly awaited him. So we cannot help but wonder: why go? If Paul had agreed to stay in Caesarea, everyone would have said "Amen." Why not send Timothy, Philip, or even Agabus as a courier? Carrying money to the Jerusalem believers seems too small an answer.

Paul Understood the Danger

The text doesn't state the reason explicitly, but I believe the answer is here. First, Paul understood the danger. Jesus repeatedly told would-be disciples to count the cost, and Paul had counted it. Five or six years later, imprisoned in Rome, he wrote back to the very Philippian church that had warned him—they could have said, "We told you so." Instead, in Philippians 1 he says he may die, but "to live is Christ and to die is gain." Then in Philippians 2:17:

Yes, and if I am being poured out as a drink offering on the sacrifice and service of your faith, I am glad and rejoice with you all. For the same reason you also be glad and rejoice with me.

If I become a sacrifice so that you can know the gospel and come to faith, then it's all right—I rejoice in it. Powerful words that point us toward the answer.

Paul Maintained Unwavering Devotion

Second, Paul maintained unwavering devotion, even in the face of suffering. He knew all of this from the beginning—at his conversion in Acts 9, the Lord sent Ananias to tell him he would suffer for the name of Christ. He says in effect to the Philippians, "You would never have come to faith if I had not been willing to suffer; if I'm poured out for your sake, that's fine, and you should rejoice too." This was never merely about a financial gift.

The Church Undermined by Division

Third, and I'm convinced this is the heart of it: the early church was being undermined by division. External attacks throughout church history only strengthen and grow the church; what destroys a church is internal division. And the earliest church was being torn by a cultural and racial divide between Jewish Christians and Gentile Christians.

Throughout Acts and Paul's letters you see it. His last letter before this journey was to the Gentile Christians in Rome, and he devoted a quarter of it to the importance of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—why? Because of the divide. Jewish Christians said the Gentiles weren't holy enough; Gentile Christians thought the Jewish believers were prudes. And who stood at the center of that divide? Paul—the former Pharisee, now the apostle to the Gentiles (Romans 11:13).

So why couldn't Timothy carry the offering? He was half Jewish. Why not Luke, Tychicus, Trophimus, or Gaius? They were all Gentile Christians. Paul brought them precisely to present them to the Jewish believers in Jerusalem: Look—they're just like you. They believe in Jesus, baptized by the Spirit and in water, just like you. Jesus said it best: "Every kingdom divided against itself is brought to desolation, and a house divided against itself falls" (Luke 11:17).

A Peace Offering Only Paul Could Bring

Paul was the hinge between Gentile and Jewish Christians. This former Pharisee, now God's apostle to the Gentiles, was carrying a gift from Gentile churches to support Jewish believers—a peace offering—arriving for the feast of Pentecost. That's also why this Christian man would care to celebrate Passover, and, as we'll see next week, why he would take a Jewish vow, shave his head, and bring an offering into the temple—all completely out of character unless he was seeking to undermine the very thing that was undermining the church.

So when it seems everyone is saying "God says don't go" and Paul says "I'm going," it appears someone must be wrong. But they had the right information, the wrong interpretation, and there was only one person who could do this. It was imperative that only Paul do it. The prospect of suffering was not a sign that God wasn't calling him. He went, the word came true, and the rest of his life was spent as a prisoner of Rome until he was beheaded around AD 68.

The Application for Us

What's the application twenty centuries later? At least this: is the cause of Christ that important to you? It is highly unlikely that you or I will ever suffer persecution as Paul did. Some say persecution is coming to America; I'm not convinced, nor am I concerned—even if it came, it would only strengthen and grow the church, as it always has. Believers in other parts of the world do suffer like Paul, but most of us will not.

And yet it's a shame how ashamed we often are of the gospel. In his last letter before this journey Paul wrote, "I am not ashamed of the gospel of God, for it is the power of God unto salvation, for the Jew first and also for the Greek." Paul was contending earnestly for the faith. That challenges me: am I contending earnestly for the faith with the people in my family, my community, my workplace who don't know the Lord? Are we contending earnestly, even in the face of possible difficulty most of us will never face? It brings me to one prayer: God, help me to be that bold.

Closing Prayer

Jesus, You said that we need to count the cost, that no one putting his hand to the plow and looking back is fit for the kingdom. Those are heavy words. Lord, help us to understand that there is possible danger in following You, but help us to maintain, like Paul did, an unwavering devotion to You—so clear here that Paul was willing to be bound, and even to die, for the name of the Lord Jesus. Help us to have that unwavering devotion as we follow You, seek You, and serve You. We ask it in Jesus' name. Amen.