Acts 14:8-22 "Worshiped then Stoned"

I’ve always had this ridiculous fantasy—just go with me here—about getting stranded on some remote island where the locals have never seen a bald man before… and they mistake me for a god. Probably started with that episode of Gilligan’s Island where he looks like the head on the top of the totem pole and the natives worship him as Mashuka. Then in Star Wars, CP3O is treated like a god because he’s golden and shiny. There’s a lot of shows where this kind of thing happens—Joe Vs the Volcano is one of my favorites.

So, I show up wearing my crocs, sunglasses, and carrying a guitar. And they’re amazed. The sun reflects off my head like a divine spotlight. Children shield their eyes. Tribal elders fall to their knees. One of them whispers, “It is… He Who Gleams.”

Then I really blow their minds. I pull out my travel-size flashlight. Click. Let there be light. They gasp. Someone faints. I show them how I can make fire with a lighter. I play the riff to Smoke on the Water and they think I’m summoning thunder thunder god. I shake a bottle of ibuprofen and they think it’s full of magic healing stones.

And what am I supposed to do? They might be cannibals, so I go along with it. I let them carry me around on one of those chairs with fancy poles.

They bring me gifts. Pineapples. Bananas. A goat named Carl.

But then… they notice how easy I get sunburned—or scream when I see a spider the size of a plate. Suddenly, they’re like, “Wait… very puny god.” I go from divine visitor to “Guy who smells like Deep Woods Off!” No more Mashuka.

Now… I’m not saying I actually want to be worshiped by a group of naive islanders—though if anyone wants to build a lifesize golden statue of me playing guitar, I’m not going to stop you.

But there’s something in all of us that kinda likes being admired. Being the expert. The center of attention. The one with the answers, the power.

We love it when people think we’re wise. Or funny. Or spiritual. Or right. We may not ask for it outright, but when people start to think we’ve got it all together… we’re not always in a rush to correct them.

So if a crowd started chanting our name or bringing us their best fruit and a goat named Carl—we might not be in a hurry to shut it down.

We’re going through the Book of Acts verse by verse. We’re in chapter 14, and our heroes are facing a similar situation but they’re going to respond very different than Gilligan or CP3O.

Acts 14…

“Now at Lystra there was a man sitting who could not use his feet. He was crippled from birth and had never walked.” Acts 14:8

Usually Paul and Barnabas would go to the synagogue first and tell them the message of Jesus but Lystra was a fully pagan Roman colony and didn’t have one. They were in full-on Gentile territory now.

So, they’re just preaching in the street to whoever would listen, they had at least one guy who was a captive audience. It’s not funny that he was crippled but it’s kind of funny that the one guy we’re told they were talking to couldn’t walk away if he wanted to. Says he had been crippled since birth. We should be reminded of the man in chapter three that Peter healed.

Apparently he was really listening though. 

“He listened to Paul speaking. And Paul, looking intently at him and seeing that he had faith to be made well,”said in a loud voice, ‘Stand upright on your feet.’ And he sprang up and began walking.” Acts 14:9-10

Maybe Paul was talking about how Jesus had healed a bunch of people—how Jesus came to save people.

The guy didn’t ask for anything.

It just says Paul “looked intently” at him. Maybe the Holy Spirit showed Paul that faith was given to the poor guy—somehow Paul noticed the man was ready to be made well. The word for “made well” is the same word that’s used for “saved”—the Greek word “Sozo.” He was healed but it was more than just physical healing. 

Everytime someone believes and is saved is a miracle. It’s always a work of the Holy Spirit.

Paul speaks with the authority of Jesus, “in a loud voice,” this is divine power at work. The man immediately leaps up. A public, undeniable miracle that validates the message of salvation. 

All the natives are amazed! 

“And when the crowds saw what Paul had done, they lifted up their voices, saying in Lycaonian, ‘The gods have come down to us in the likeness of men!’” Acts 14:11

They had missed the point. They get all excited and start yelling in gibberish, Paul and Barnabas probably didn’t understand what they were saying. He would have been preaching in Greek—everyone spoke Greek—but the crowd was talking to each other in Lycaonian. All Paul knew is they were getting worked up about something.

There was a local legend that Zeus and Hermes had visited this area in disguise. They thought it was happening again! They’re like, “Oh my gods!”

“Barnabas they called Zeus, and Paul, Hermes, because he was the chief speaker.” Acts 14:12

They think Paul is Hermes (the Greek god of speech) because he was the one doing all the talking. Barnabas is probably assumed to be Zeus by default, or because he had the better beard.

“And the priest of Zeus, whose temple was at the entrance to the city, brought oxen and garlands to the gates and wanted to offer sacrifice with the crowds.” Acts 14:13

The city was built around a temple to Zeus. This is a big day. Their god has come to town for a visit. Better get ready for a special worship service. Brings out the livestock and flowers—going to be a big fat Greek sacrificial ceremony.

    The crowd is completely into it—our heroes could have asked for anything their little hearts desired. They responded very different than Gilligan.

“But when the apostles Barnabas and Paul heard of it, they tore their garments and rushed out into the crowd, crying out,”‘Men, why are you doing these things? We also are men, of like nature with you…”  Acts 14:14-15

They aren’t interested in taking advantage of the situation—they’re horrified—tearing their clothes as a sign of grief and blasphemy. They rush into the crowd to stop the sacrifice—no hesitation. They want no part in the glory and worship being offered to them. They’re mortified, “Guys, stop! We’re not gods. We’re people just like you.”

We should compare this to how Jesus responds to people worshiping Him. Sometimes people say, “Jesus is the Son of God but He’s not God.” This is a problem because Jesus let people worship Him.

The wise men show up and worship baby Jesus—Mary and Joseph were perfectly fine with that.

A leper worships Jesus and asks to be healed. Jesus heals him.

A synagogue ruler worships Jesus and asks Him to heal his daughter—Jesus raises her from the dead.

A Canaanite woman worships Jesus and asks for His help—He accepts her worship and helps her.

The disciples worship Jesus on several occasions. 

In the boat after He calms the storm.

After the resurrection in the upper room.

In Galilee when He gives the Great Commission.

Thomas calls Jesus “My Lord and My God.”

Hebrews says the angels worship Him.

Revelation says, “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain… worthy to receive all blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever.”

Not once did Jesus discourage people from worshiping Him.

And yet, God alone is to be worshiped. Jesus is clearly God. That’s the message Paul and Barnabas were bringing to the Gentiles. The healing of the crippled man was supposed to help them see what they were saying about Jesus was true. So, when they misunderstood and started worshiping them instead of the One they were talking about—they tore their clothes and begged them to stop. 

They wanted the people to worship Jesus.

“...and we bring you good news, that you should turn from these vain things to a living God, who made the heaven and the earth and the sea and all that is in them.’” Acts 14:15

They redirect the crowd: “We are only men like you! Turn away from these “Vain things!”—referring to their Roman gods—powerless and empty objects of worship. I’m sure the priest of Zeus was thrilled with their description of his gods as meaningless nothings.

They introduce the people to The Living God, Creator of all. The Romans and Greeks had a god for every aspect of reality—Paul is saying there is only one God who created and is in control of everything—that their gods were not real. This was going to be a lot for them to take in.

But notice how he starts where the people are—appealing to what they already understand—they knew some kind of divine being must have created everything. The complexities and interconnectedness of reality lets everyone know there is a god. Paul wants them to know who that God actually is. Yahweh who has revealed Himself to be Jesus Christ.

“‘In past generations he allowed all the nations to walk in their own ways.’” Acts 14:16

It was never supposed to be like this but God had allowed the Gentiles to go their own way, following false gods and demons and the desires of their wicked hearts. They had invented new ways to sin against Him and went deeper and deeper into depravity. So much confusion and error—so many false paths—all leading away from truth and the True Living God.

This isn’t condemnation—it’s just the context for the new message they’re bringing.

“‘Yet he did not leave himself without witness, for he did good by giving you rains from heaven and fruitful seasons, satisfying your hearts with food and gladness.’” Acts 14:17

Even in their wickedness, God has still shown them kindness. His goodness is obvious in creation and how He provides: rain, seasons, food, and the simple joys of living.

This is general revelation—what everyone knows about God even without Scripture.

These people didn’t know anything about the Bible, so Paul has to start with what they do know before he can tell them the Gospel. God has always been reaching out, even in ways they might not have noticed before.

Paul’s getting them ready to hear about Jesus and how they can be saved—if he can just get them to stop worshiping him and Barnabas.

“Even with these words they scarcely restrained the people from offering sacrifice to them.” Acts 14:18

It’s always hard to break through people’s preconceived ideas. Hard to get people to stop worshiping all the false things they want to worship. It seems like Paul’s doing a pretty good job of speaking the truth, being very direct, but they just keep hearing what they want to hear.

Well, some old friends show up to lend a hand… 

“But Jews came from Antioch and Iconium, and having persuaded the crowds, they stoned Paul and dragged him out of the city, supposing that he was dead.” Acts 14:19

With friends like these… You remember these guys from last week, right? They ran Paul and Barnabas out of town. They thought all this talk about Jesus being God was blasphemy so they made plans to stone them to death. And now they followed them to Lystra—surprise!

They show up and, “What the heck is this? Why are you worshiping these con artists?”

They help explain what Paul was trying to say—in the worst possible way. “These guys aren’t gods! They don’t even believe in your gods! They think your gods are stupid and lame! Made up fairy tales!”

Things escalate real quick. From “You guys are divine!’ To “Let’s kill them!”—from worshiped to stoned.

We’ve seen this kind of thing before—Jesus and the crowds from Palm Sunday to Good Friday.

They take aim at Paul, probably because he was the speaker, they stoned him, dragged him out of the city and left him for dead. That is not how my fantasy with the natives who think I’m a god goes at all. Somehow Barnabas got away. Paul’s laying in the street.

“But when the disciples gathered about him, he rose up and entered the city, and on the next day he went on with Barnabas to Derbe.” Acts 14:20

We’re not told this was a miracle. The stones must have hit him in the head and knocked him out—probably a lot of blood. He looked dead but he was just mostly dead. There must have been a small group of disciples in Lystra and when they heard about Paul being in town (and getting lynched!) They ran out to help him. Paul opens his eyes, probably with a bit of a headache, and what does he do? He goes right back into town to meet with the Christians. Paul is a stubborn, persistent fellow. 

Later he’s going to talk about how he was once stoned for preaching the Gospel—this must have been that time. He’ll also mention that on a trip to Lystra he met a young man named Timothy—so, he must have been one of the people who was there. He spent the day with the Christians and then they went to Derbe.

“When they had preached the gospel to that city and had made many disciples, they returned to Lystra and to Iconium and to Antioch, strengthening the souls of the disciples, encouraging them to continue in the faith, and saying that through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God.” Acts 14:21-22

They kept on preaching and making disciples as if nothing had happened. Then they retrace their steps—back through those dangerous places plastered with “wanted” posters with their faces on them—risking their lives to encourage the churches they had just started. That’s brave. Shows their commitment to long-term spiritual care and discipleship.

Definitely shows us what perseverance ought to look like. Also that suffering is going to be a necessary part of the Christian journey. Jesus said any of us who follow Him have to take up our cross—everyone who follows Jesus, follows Him to a cross. Many tribulations” is not an optional side effect—it’s part of the path to the kingdom of God. There’s no way around it.

The kingdom of God is the future hope that gives meaning to our present suffering.

But it’s not what we want—we want to be worshiped, not crucified.

When we started today, I told you my silly little fantasy—getting stranded on a remote island, mistaken for a god. Mashuka. I like the idea of being admired, celebrated. And look, maybe I don’t actually want to be worshiped, but I do want people to think I’ve got it together. I want to be seen as wise, funny, spiritual… in control. We all do. We love applause. We like thinking we’re the hero in the story.

But Paul and Barnabas weren’t having it. When the crowd tried to worship them, they didn’t go along with it—not even a little. They tore their clothes and begged the people to stop. “We are just men like you.” Because they knew something we often forget: there is no shortcut to the kingdom of God that lets us skip the hard parts.

They said it plainly: “Through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God.” That’s the law. That’s the way it is. And it hurts.

But it also points to something crucial: faith doesn’t even exist without suffering.

If everything was going right in our lives, if we were being carried around and handed pineapples and praised for being shiny and clever, we wouldn’t even need faith. Faith would be meaningless. We’d just be managing our good fortune. But that’s not the world we live in. And that’s not the life Jesus calls us to. We’re called to a life of faith—trust, conviction, belief. Our faith prepares us for when everything goes sideways. 

Jesus doesn’t say, “Follow me and I’ll make you really comfortable.”

He says, “Take up your cross. Deny yourself. Follow me into suffering.”

We don’t like that path. But it’s the only one that leads to life. It’s what our faith is for.

This is the Gospel: Christ was worshiped. Then He was crucified. For you.

Jesus is truly worthy of worship. And He received it—from wise men, from lepers, from Canaanite women and disciples and angels and all the hosts of heaven. He didn’t tear His robe when people bowed before Him—because it’s the right thing to do. He is God.

But what did He do with that worship? He didn’t use it for comfort. He laid down His life. He left heaven’s throne and was nailed to a cross by the same kind of crowd that cheered for Him days earlier.

And He did it for you.

He suffered—not just so you wouldn’t have to, but to save you. He suffered for every time you’ve wanted personal glory instead of grace, comfort instead of the cross, admiration instead of obedience. He died to forgive you—and to make your suffering something more than pain.

To give your suffering meaning. When you suffer—when you’re crushed, mocked, abandoned, confused—you are not being punished. You are being conformed to Christ. You’re walking the path He walked first. And you don’t walk it alone.

Your suffering is not meaningless. It draws you into a deeper relationship with God—into the heart of a Savior who knows what you’re going through. It joins you to the saints and martyrs and prophets who have walked this road before. And it shapes you for resurrection.

If that’s you right now—if you’re in the middle of something and wondering if God sees you—I want you to hear this: you are not forgotten. And your pain is not unnoticed, it’s not wasted. He’s taking you somewhere good.

But, in the meantime, what do we do now?

We stop pretending to be Mashuka.

We stop trying to be the hero.

We stop worshiping empty things, shiny things—especially ourselves.

And instead, we follow the only One who is worthy of worship. We take up our cross. We accept that the path to the kingdom is hard—and we walk it together, with open eyes and open hearts with all our strength. Stubbornly. Persistently.

Jesus promised that if you share in His suffering you will also share in His resurrection.

So when you find yourself in the middle of the trial—when you're discouraged, when you feel abandoned or like everything's going wrong—don’t be surprised. Don’t give up hope. Just remember who you’re following and where He’s leading you.

You’re not being punished—your story just isn’t over.

Not until the last day, when you fully enter the kingdom of God where you’ll see that crooked path was actually a straight and narrow road to your salvation. AMEN