Dare to Be a Barnabas!

In Romans 16, the apostle Paul sends his greetings to dozens of his friends and fellow workers in Rome. Some, like Prisca and Aquila, are familiar names. Others, like Epaenetus, appear nowhere else in the Bible. They played a role in Paul’s monumental ministry, yet we know next to nothing about them. Even so, God knows them. They share Christ’s reward, and they’ve added their voices to the chorus of heavenly praise.

Because the Scriptures (to our benefit) turn our attention so often to prominent heroes of the faith like Paul, it can be easy to forget that the church in every generation has been sustained and enriched predominantly by unsung heroes—those whose names may never have even been written down, who were known only to their immediate acquaintances, and who were perhaps tempted to believe they had lived and died insignificantly. Yet no one is insignificant in the purposes of God.

No one is insignificant in the purposes of God.

Nearly all of us who are in Christ through faith will be such people—forgotten by the world at large yet remembered by God. We can be encouraged by one of the “minor” characters in the biblical narrative: a modest man named Joseph whose very modesty allowed him to make an incredible impact for the Gospel.

The Encourager

We first meet Joseph—better known to us by his nickname, Barnabas—in Acts 4, just as the early days of the church are unfolding:

Joseph, who was also called by the apostles Barnabas (which means son of encouragement), a Levite, a native of Cyprus, sold a field that belonged to him and brought the money and laid it at the apostles’ feet. (Acts 4:36–37)

Among the many who had been touched by the Spirit and transformed as a result was this man Joseph. He was not one of the Twelve, and his name isn’t nearly as recognizable as many other New Testament individuals. The thing that was most notable about him was not his religious pedigree (as a Levite) nor his country of origin (Cyprus) but the gift that God had given him, which inspired his nickname.

Every so often, somebody gets a nickname so good that it replaces their name. That was the case with Joseph. The apostles called him Barnabas, “son of encouragement,” because he was an encourager. And it was this factor about Barnabas that made him influential. He was able to comfort and to exhort those who were in his company, and it seems that everywhere he went, he made an impact for the kingdom.

It is well said that if you want to see into a man’s heart, you can look at his checkbook. If we could look into Barnabas’s checkbook, we would see a man who had given himself, inside and out, to God. He was generous with his belongings, with his words, and with his life—and all of this was possible because he had given himself first to God. 

The Welcomer

The next time we see Barnabas in Acts, it is as he plays a pivotal role in welcoming the former persecutor Saul to the church shortly after his unexpected conversion:

When [Saul] had come to Jerusalem, he attempted to join the disciples. And they were all afraid of him, for they did not believe that he was a disciple. But Barnabas took him and brought him to the apostles and declared to them how on the road he had seen the Lord, who spoke to him, and how at Damascus he had preached boldly in the name of Jesus. (Acts 9:26–27)

Saul—that is, Paul the apostle—had hated Christians. Even at the beginning of Acts 9, we find him “still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord” (v. 1). So it’s not hard to sympathize with the disciples in Jerusalem. The change that overcame Saul as a result of his encounter with the risen Christ (vv. 3–5) really was incredible. Yet it is the kind of transformation that the Holy Spirit is in the habit of making. And among all the believers in Jerusalem, it was Barnabas who had the wisdom and courage to recognize this.

One story from the US West Coast in the heyday of the ’60s tells of a very fine church where everyone came properly dressed and well groomed. The congregation was aghast when a barefooted, long-haired hippie walked in the door. He walked past pew after pew, no one budging to make room for him. Finally, he found himself at the front of the church, where he caused further scandal by sitting cross-legged on the floor. To everyone’s relief, one of the deacons stepped into action, marching directly to the unwelcome guest—and sitting down, cross-legged, right beside him!

That is the spirit of a Barnabas. Barnabas knew that what God had done in his life He could do in Saul’s. While others shut the door in Saul’s face, Barnabas reached out a hand of fellowship. And because Barnabas was there for him, Saul “went in and out among them at Jerusalem, preaching boldly in the name of the Lord” (Acts 9:28). The great welcome from an unsung hero made the apostle’s great ministry possible.

This was a simple gesture, yet it wasn’t a cheap one. To “take” somebody like Barnabas did involves time, involves effort, involves a rearrangement of plans. As much as we want to be Barnabas, committed to the Lord inside and out, we’re more often ready to be the ones shutting the door.

Let that be a reminder that there are no meaningless moments in our days. There are no chance encounters, irrelevant people, or inconsequential tasks. The church carries on from one generation to the next because of men and women whose names we will never know who, like Barnabas, will take the time and take the risk to extend a hand of welcome.

The Gracious, Happy Apostle

Two chapters later, Barnabas again appears in the pages of Scripture, this time as he is chosen to be sent as a representative of the believers in Jerusalem to new believers in another city:

The hand of the Lord was with them, and a great number who believed turned to the Lord. The report of this came to the ears of the church in Jerusalem, and they sent Barnabas to Antioch. When he came and saw the grace of God, he was glad, and he exhorted them all to remain faithful to the Lord with steadfast purpose, for he was a good man, full of the Holy Spirit and of faith. And a great many people were added to the Lord. (Acts 11:21–24)

There are no meaningless moments in our days. There are no chance encounters, irrelevant people, or inconsequential tasks.

When the Gospel came to Antioch for the first time, the missionaries there “spoke to the Hellenists also”—that is, to Greek-speaking gentiles in addition to Jews—“preaching the Lord Jesus” (v. 20), and the Gospel took root. The reception of the good news of Jesus among the gentiles was still new in the history of the church, and not everyone was ready to welcome it. Who could the apostles send for an encounter such as this? It’s no surprise: “They sent Barnabas”!

Not everybody in a church can cope with new things. Not everyone is prepared to see God’s Spirit at work in unexpected ways. It’s certainly not everyone who can see God’s grace at work like this and be “glad.” Are we glad for the evidences of God’s grace?

Barnabas was a man given to the Lord—and when he saw the Lord glorified among the gentiles, it was not a matter of concern for him but a matter for rejoicing. When he saw new things happening to God’s glory, he didn’t hit the brakes on the Gospel. Nor was Barnabas jealous for his own status in the ministry. In fact, we read that he “went to Tarsus to look for Saul, and when he had found him, he brought him to Antioch” (vv. 25–26). Again the unsung hero put forward the great apostle—and only heaven will tell of the impact of this humility. The church needs men and women who are happy to take second place for the work of the Gospel.

Are we glad for the evidences of God’s grace?

Dare to Be a Barnabas

Barnabas would eventually join Paul on his missionary journeys, and he played a vital role standing side by side with Paul in the frontline work of the Gospel. Yet we shouldn’t overlook the vital role he played through his encouraging, his welcoming, and his joy to see men and women turn to Christ in faith.

The old children’s chorus exhorts us,

Dare to be a Daniel!
Dare to stand alone!
Dare to have a purpose firm!
Dare to make it known!¹

As much as we need to learn from Daniel, we can overemphasize the kind of stark, solitary, heroic stances he took. In our everyday walk, we had better remind ourselves, too, that we should

Dare to be a Barnabas!
Dare not go alone!
Gather someone on your arm,
And make the Gospel known!

We need not be heroes. Whether the world remembers us is a small thing in light of the kingdom of God. Everywhere around us are people who need encouragement, who need a welcoming hand, who need the Gospel that we’ve received. In the humble self-giving that Barnabas modeled for us, let us serve them with the love of Christ.

This article was adapted from the sermon “Son of Encouragement” by Alistair Begg.