Part of our year-long series: Fixing What’s Broken to Build Back Better
Scripture:
Acts 9:20–29 (KJV)
In this blog post, we’re going to talk about something our church and our world desperately need—the ministry of consolation.
I want to take you back to one of the most powerful examples in Scripture of what happens when someone steps into the gap to bridge divides.
Let me tell you about a man named Saul—later called Paul. This wasn’t just any man. This was the chief persecutor of the early church.
Acts 8:3 tells us he “made havoc of the church, entering into every house, and haling men and women committed them to prison.”
Acts 7:58 reminds us he was there when they stoned Stephen.
Acts 9:1–2 says he was “yet breathing out threatenings and slaughter against the disciples of the Lord,” headed to Damascus to bind any he found “of this way.”
But then something miraculous happened on the road to Damascus. Jesus knocked him down, blinded him, and called him to ministry (Acts 9:3–6).
Saul the persecutor became Paul the apostle. But here’s the thing—just because God changed his heart didn’t mean everybody else got the memo. The church still saw him as the enemy. And that’s where our story of consolation begins.
Acts 9:26 says, “And when Saul was come to Jerusalem, he assayed to join himself to the disciples: but they were all afraid of him, and believed not that he was a disciple.”
Can you imagine? Here’s Paul, fresh from his Damascus road experience, trying to fellowship with the very people he used to persecute.
They were afraid—and understandably so. This man had a reputation. He had caused them pain. Some of their friends and family members were in prison or dead because of him.
Church, this is exactly what happens in our congregations today. When someone has hurt us, betrayed our trust, or caused division, we become afraid. We build walls. We whisper in corners. We form our little groups and exclude those who have wounded us. Fear becomes our default response instead of faith.
But 1 John 4:18 reminds us that “there is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear.” And Psalm 27:1 declares, “The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?”
Sometimes our fear of being hurt again blinds us to the redemptive work God wants to do in our midst.
Acts 9:29 tells us that when Paul tried to minister, “he spake boldly in the name of the Lord Jesus, and disputed against the Grecians: but they went about to slay him.”
Now we’ve moved from fear to outright hostility. From suspicion to attempted murder. The wounds were so deep, the betrayal so painful, that some folks wanted Paul dead. They couldn’t see past his history. They couldn’t imagine redemption for someone who had caused so much pain.
I know some of you who are reading this carry that same spirit. Someone hurt you so badly that you don’t just avoid them—you want them gone. You want them out of leadership, out of the church, out of your sight. The pain runs so deep that you can’t imagine God using them again.
Antioch’s desire to kill Paul would have robbed the world of thirteen epistles (some of the best-loved books of the Bible) and countless souls won to Christ.
But wait—here comes the hero of our story. Acts 9:27 says, “But Barnabas took him, and brought him to the apostles, and declared unto them how he had seen the Lord on the way… and how Paul had preached boldly at Damascus in the name of Jesus.”
Now let me tell you about this man Barnabas. Acts 4:36 tells us his real name was Joses, “who by the apostles was surnamed Barnabas, (which is, being interpreted, The son of consolation).” This wasn’t just a nickname—it was his calling, his ministry, his very identity.
He did something nobody else was willing to do. He took a risk. He put his reputation on the line. He vouched for Paul when nobody else would.
Think about what Barnabas was risking here—his credibility with the apostles, his standing in the church, his own safety. But Barnabas understood that consolation sometimes requires courage. Healing sometimes demands that someone be willing to stand in the gap. (Later we see Barnabas and Paul continuing in ministry together. Galatians 2:13.)
If it hadn’t been for Barnabas’s ministry of consolation, we might not have more than half of the New Testament as we know it. Romans, Corinthians, Galatians, Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians, Thessalonians, Timothy, Titus, Philemon—letters that have shaped Christian theology and transformed millions of lives—might never have reached the church if Barnabas hadn’t been willing to take Paul under his wing.
One act of consolation changed the trajectory of Christianity. One man’s willingness to bridge the divide between fear and faith, between past and potential, between hurt and healing, opened the way for a global ministry.
What if God is waiting for you to be someone’s Barnabas?
What if there’s someone in your church family or your community who has made mistakes, who has caused pain, who has fallen short—but God wants to use them in mighty ways? What if your willingness to extend consolation, to advocate for redemption, to bridge the divide could unlock something powerful in your church, your community?
Listen, this is very important. I’m not talking about ignoring sin or minimizing hurt. As a family of believers, we are called to minister to the broken-hearted and advocate for the helpless and the victimized.
Consolation cannot mean allowing bad behavior to continue. Appropriate accountability for abuse has to be a priority.
Friends, I’m talking about recognizing when God is doing a transformative work and being willing to stand with that person as they walk into their destiny. None of us has sunk so low that we are beyond the redemptive power of Jesus Christ.
If you are confused about boundaries, or when consoling becomes enabling, talk to a Pastor or a spiritual counselor you trust. If I can be that support for you, contact us to book an appointment to talk privately.
Ultimately, we thank God for Jesus—the One Paul preached about, the ultimate Consoler, the great Reconciler. Isaiah 61:1–3 foretold His ministry to bind up the brokenhearted and comfort all that mourn.
2 Corinthians 5:18–19 tells us God “hath given to us the ministry of reconciliation.” And 2 Corinthians 1:3–4 reminds us He is “the God of all comfort,” who comforts us so we can comfort others.
Beloved, we’re all called to this ministry of consolation because we have all received God’s consolation. Every one of us was once an enemy of God—but Jesus took us, consoled us.
Every one of us had a past that should have disqualified us—but Jesus vouched for us. Matthew 5:9 declares, “Blessed are the peacemakers.”
The ministry of consolation isn’t easy. It requires courage, wisdom, and a heart that beats with God’s rhythm of redemption. But when we embrace this calling—when we become bridge-builders instead of wall-builders—we position ourselves to see God do extraordinary things in our midst.
Speaking for myself, I don’t want to do anything that would stand in the way of getting to see and experience every extraordinary thing that God wants to do in my life and in the lives of those around me.
How about you? Will you step out in the ministry of courageous consolation? With the grace of Jesus and the support of a faith community, you can see past the hurt to the healing, beyond betrayal to breakthrough.
Join us Sundays at 10:15AM as we continue to fix what’s broken to build back better, together.
Acts 9:20–29 •
Acts 8:3 •
Acts 7:58 •
Acts 9:1–2 •
Acts 9:3–6 •
Acts 9:26 •
Acts 9:29 •
Acts 9:27 •
Acts 4:36 •
Galatians 2:13 •
1 John 4:18 •
Psalm 27:1 •
Isaiah 61:1–3 •
2 Corinthians 5:18–19 •
2 Corinthians 1:3–4 •
Matthew 5:9
