Acts 15:30-41 "God Writes Comebacks"

2004. I had been the music guy at CrossPoint for a few months. Part time. I just showed up on Sundays to lead the band, play guitar, and sing. But then one weekend—close to Halloween—my boss (the music director) and the senior pastor were both going to be out of town. They handed me the keys. “Plan the whole service. Pick the songs. Come up with the theme. Lead the creative direction of the message.”
There was a vicar (pastor-in-training) fresh out of seminary—he’d be preaching. They said, “You’re a creative guy. Let’s see what you can do!”
And I was like, “Challenge accepted.”

Did I mention it was Halloween?

I don’t know what they expected but naturally, I invited a few of my friends and formed a metal worship band. Re-arranged all the songs for drop-D guitars and heavy grooves. Played my version of “A Mighty Fortress” for the first time—straight up Reformation Day metal.

Just before the message, we played the Rolling Stones’ “Sympathy for the Devil”—not exactly metal but what says “it’s time for the sermon” better than a bluesy ode to Satan?

This is where it really got good.

We filled the room with smoke. Lights went blood red. Thunder, lightning—we did all the special effects we could pull off with two fog machines and a strobe light. It was a little scary. 

Then it all stopped. Silent. The whole room was holding its breath.
And from the back of the congregation, the vicar walks in—black turtleneck, black jeans. Very “Steve Jobs as an evil preacher” vibe.
He gets up on stage and says, “Yeah, that’s what you’d expect, huh? Loud and flashy. Make it obvious. But that’s not really my style. I’m a lot more subtle. Please allow me to introduce myself—you probably know me as Satan. The Devil.”

And then… he preached. In character. As the devil. For 25 minutes.
Most of what he said was lies. Which was kind of the point.

Then he left, just walked off the stage and everyone was like, “…what just happened?”
Another vicar came out to explain it all, pointed out how the devil is the father of lies, corrected a few things, pointed to Jesus, preached the Gospel, prayed, and sent everyone home.

Honestly, I thought we crushed it. Slam dunk. I was feeling pretty good about my new career as a worship service creative visionary.

Then came Monday.

I got called into a special meeting along with the vicars. The pastor was... not thrilled. 

He told us the phones had been ringing off the hook.
He said, “The target we aim for is joy. Light. Happy families. But you aimed over here—dark, heavy, confusing, artsy.”
I wasn’t fired… but I was put in time-out.
They didn’t trust me with so much as a single song selection for like two years.

You ever been written off? Messed up one time and it just kept following you around? Miss one meeting and now you’re forever the unreliable one. Lost your temper and now you’re branded as the angry one. Said the wrong thing in a group chat and now you're out of the loop. 

Or maybe you were the one doing the writing off.

We’ve all done it. Someone drops the ball, disappoints us, and we decide: that person can’t be trusted anymore.
We put them in the “nope” box.
And they can stay there.
As far as we’re concerned.

Sometimes we put ourselves in that box.

Some of us are carrying the weight of something we messed up a long time ago—and we let that one moment define us.

Some of us have cut people out of our lives over some way they failed us—and we’re not sure if we’d ever be willing to let them back in.

That’s where we’re going today. The way we tend to hold people’s failures against them. Because this kind of thing? It’s nothing new. Even the apostles had to learn how to deal with failure—and giving people another chance.

We’re slowly working our way through the Book of Acts line by line. Last time we were in Acts 15 right after the counsel of Jerusalem where they sent a letter to the churches about what to do with all the Gentile Christians. Today they’re going to take that letter and get back to work in the mission of the gospel. So, Acts 15, starting with verse 30… 

So they were sent off and went down to Antioch, and after gathering the assembly, they delivered the letter. When they read it, they rejoiced because of its encouragement.  Acts 15:30-31

The assembly here probably refers to people from various house churches in Antioch—this wasn’t a private letter, it was a community-wide moment of clarity. Judas and Silas were chosen to represent the authority of the Jerusalem church—which was the headquarters of the whole Christian church at the time.

It was received with a lot of joyful enthusiasm and high fives. Can’t really blame them, especially the men—they weren’t going to have to get circumcised after all! I’d say that was probably some good news. They didn’t have to become Jewish at all to be Christian and follow Jesus. The Gospel is not a heavy burden, it sets people free. 

Both Judas and Silas, who were also prophets themselves, encouraged the brothers and sisters and strengthened them with a long message. Acts 15:32

New Testament prophets are what we think of as pastoral preachers. They took the letter from Jerusalem and applied it to the lives of the people who were in the room—no doubt showing how it was consistent with the teaching of Jesus which fulfilled all the Old Testament Scriptures. 

It was a long message. I don’t want to hear any complaints about my little thirty-minute sermons. Also, the people were strengthened by it, so the point of a sermon should probably be to build people up, not tear them down. 

When I was an 18-year-old preacher in training I filled in for a pastor one Sunday. It was a church in a nearby town. Man, I let them have it! Blasted them with blunt force truth. A few weeks later I got a letter from the pastor. He thanked me for filling his pulpit while he was on vacation—then he said, “Always remember, the pastor’s job on Sunday morning is to feed the sheep, not shear them.”

I always try to keep that in mind. Speak the truth but speak it in love. Share God’s wisdom, His Law, His Commandments, but remember to give them His mercy, too. The good news. Grace. Not only what God requires of us but what He has done for us in Jesus. This is always the goal. Both Law and Gospel.

Silas is introduced here as a trusted, Spirit-filled leader. This sets him up to be Paul’s future ministry partner.

After spending some time there, they were sent back in peace by the brothers and sisters to those who had sent them. But Paul and Barnabas, along with many others, remained in Antioch, teaching and proclaiming the word of the Lord.  Acts 15:33-35

“Sent back in peace” shows the conflict had been resolved, at least for now. There was church unity between the Jewish and Gentile Christians—which was the whole point of the counsel. The church in Antioch honors the authority and leadership of the Jerusalem church while maintaining their identity as a mission outpost to the Gentiles.

Paul and Barnabus stay in Antioch and continue building up the churches and discipling the new believers. They were quite the team. Lightning in a bottle. Probably thought they would do ministry together for the rest of their lives.

After some time had passed, Paul said to Barnabas, “Let’s go back and visit the brothers and sisters in every town where we have preached the word of the Lord and see how they’re doing.”  Acts 15:36

Time for a little followup visit to all those churches they planted. See how the seeds they had scattered were doing. It’s important to reach new people but it’s just as important to cultivate the faith in those new believers and disciple them so they don’t fall away.

It was a great idea—the dynamic duo were in total agreement. Until they weren’t.

Barnabas wanted to take along John who was called Mark. But Paul insisted that they should not take along this man who had deserted them in Pamphylia and had not gone on with them to the work. They had such a sharp disagreement that they parted company, and Barnabas took Mark with him and sailed off to Cyprus. But Paul chose Silas and departed, after being commended by the brothers and sisters to the grace of the Lord. He traveled through Syria and Cilicia, strengthening the churches. Acts 15:37-41

Uh-oh! Trouble in paradise. Can’t we all just get along? Nope. Not even Paul and Barnabus.

So let’s talk about John Mark.

He was a young man—probably one of the multitude who followed Jesus with the Disciples before the crucifixion. Some people think he might have been the rich young ruler who Jesus told to sell everything he owned and give the money to the poor. Some people think he eventually did and was also the young man mentioned in the Gospel of Mark who ran away naked on the night when Jesus was arrested—like that linen cloth was pretty much the only thing he owned. John Mark is the author of the Gospel of Mark and that seems like a detail the author might not forget. 

But when he was with Paul and Barnabus on their first missionary journey to Cypress—somewhere along the way, he bailed—left the team, went home. We don’t know exactly why.

Left them in the lurch but now Barnabas, who is Mark’s cousin, wants to give him another shot. Paul? Not having it. It’s an ugly disagreement.

Some have noticed that Paul seems to be more “mission first” and Barnabus might be more “people first” in their approaches. Neither of them are criticized for this. Both things matter.

But they have such a falling out over Mark that they break up the band.

Barnabas takes Mark. Paul takes Silas. And they go their separate ways. Pretty heavy. It looks like Mark is done, as far as Paul is concerned, but God writes comebacks.

Most of us have been there.

Someone messes up in a way that affects us—maybe they leave when it gets hard, maybe they don’t show up, maybe they blow it in a moment of weakness—and we’re like, “That’s who they are. That’s what they’re like.” Put them in that box of “nope.”

We lock people in their worst moment.
We reduce them to one decision—one bad conversation, one harsh word.
We forget that grace is supposed to define our relationships—not performance. Not our list of complaints. Love. Not hate. Forgiveness, not grudges.

And we do the same thing to ourselves. We get stuck in a moment. We hold onto our past failures better than anyone else does. No one says more nasty things about us than we say to ourselves.

We’ve all failed—publicly, privately.
We all know what it feels like to lose someone’s trust.
Maybe we even deserved to lose it. Maybe it wasn’t only one time.
You know the difference between a tragedy and happily ever after, right?
It’s where you stop telling the story.
But what if that isn’t the end of the story?

What if in the story God is writing with our lives, He isn’t going to cancel us for our mistakes?

He didn’t cancel John Mark.

Instead of being tossed out of ministry forever, Mark was given another chance. By Barnabus. Later he became Peter’s partner in ministry. 

And he didn’t waste those opportunities—he stepped up. Eventually, he even reconciled with Paul.

Years later—in one of Paul’s final letters, he writes in 2 Timothy 4:11:

“Get Mark and bring him with you, for he is very useful to me for ministry.”

What happened between Acts 15 and 2nd Timothy?
Redemption. Restoration. Another chance.

Turns out the guy who was written off for being a quitter became very useful for Paul’s ministry afterall. Why? Because God writes comebacks!

That’s the power of the Gospel.

Jesus didn’t cancel you.
He didn’t define you by your worst moment.
He went to the cross knowing your worst moment—took all your worst moments up there with Him. And He forgave them all. Covered them all. They died with Him and were blotted out of your story forever… When God reads the story of your life, all those things are redacted. God’s like, “I don’t see any problems here.”

Because Jesus rose again with mercy, redemption, and restoration for you.

You are not your failure.
You are not your most embarrassing mistakes.
You’re not going to be defined by the ways you’ve let people down.

Not if you’re in Christ. Not if you trust in Him. 

All your doubt, all your anxiety, all your guilt and shame… He took it all.

You’re forgiven.
You’re redeemed.
You are loved.
You’re still useful to Him in the ministry He’s given you to do.

I wonder… Who do you think needs to hear this message? Who do you wish was here today? Who are you going to send a link to this message and hope they watch it? Ha

• What about you? Did anyone come to mind for you during this message? Who have you written off? Who do you avoid? Who do you refuse to have anything to do with? Who do you struggle to be patient and kind toward? What would it look like to give them another chance?

• Who's written you off? Who sits in the back of your mind and judges you? A parent? An ex? A boss? Yourself? Can you try to listen to Jesus instead of their critical words and shame? Don’t let them have the final word—Jesus already took care of that. He gets the final say. Listen to Him.

• Is there a co-worker—someone in your life—a friend, your kid, your spouse—someone who’s in their John-Mark phase? Maybe they need a Barnabus—some encouragement. Another chance.

I’m inspired to be more encouraging like Barnabus and not give up on people. But I’m also inspired to be like Paul both in his no-nonsense zeal for the mission and his ability to forgive and restore Mark eventually. And then there’s Mark—we all need to be able to receive instruction when we mess up and also receive grace like John Mark did.

People are going to mess up. I’m going to mess up, you’re going to mess up.
We’re going to disappoint each other.
But the Gospel says grace is bigger than failure.
The Gospel says God writes comebacks.

Paul and Barnabus were a great team, they carried the Gospel to a lot of people—planted a lot of churches. They had a falling out and I’m sure it was painful. But look what happened. Now there were two awesome teams going around spreading the message of Jesus. We don’t hear much about the adventures of Barnabus and Mark but we know some of the amazing outcomes from their ministry. God used a bad situation for good. Mark ends up with Peter and then writes the Gospel of Mark—you can't really beat that!

I had a good long run at CrossPoint but after eleven years I was eventually fired. Not for having the Devil preach or anything like that—but in 2015, when I was let go, it was painful. Some of you remember.

But if that wouldn’t have happened, we wouldn’t be here. NewChurch wouldn’t exist. God wasn’t done with me. He knew what He was doing. 

He knows what He’s doing with you, too. God writes comebacks.

If you've ever been put in the “do not trust” box of “nope” —Jesus says, “Nevermind that, come here. I've got something else for you to do.”

And if you've ever put someone else in that box—maybe it’s time to let them out. Forgive the failures of others as we forgive our own.

Let’s be a church that gives people the space to grow, to heal, to return, to be useful again. 

Because we believe God is the God of giving another chance. Again and again. God writes comebacks. Amen.