Acts 16:1-5 "Comfort Zone"
When I was first hired at CrossPoint to be the main music guy, the senior pastor pulled me into his office and said something like:
“Hey, we love what you bring to the ministry… but do you think you could wear something other than black? A little more… color? We’re trying to connect with the people who show up, not intimidate them.”
He was asking a lot—I had worn mostly black for about twenty years.
Black jeans, black shirts, black shoes, black heart. It wasn’t just my wardrobe—it was an identity. I mean, it kept things simple: I didn’t have to match anything. Life was easy. I could get dressed in the dark and it would look the same in the light!
So I’m kind of panicking inside: “What does he want from me? To look like a box of crayons? Like a clown? Like someone who shops in daylight?”
But I did it.
I went out and bought some blue shirts. Even a purple one that made me feel like a cartoon dinosaur.
Why?
Because I didn’t need to make it about me.
I didn’t know if he was right or not but I wasn’t there to establish my personal brand.
And if adding a little color could make it easier to reach the people I was called to reach—Help me connect with them, then why not.
So, I gave up wearing all black, at least on Sunday—something I didn’t have to do—for the sake of the ministry.
I still don’t know if he was right or not but it’s why I usually wear blue jeans to church—the rest of the week I usually look like I just came from a Johnny Cash Anthrax tribute.
We don’t like giving things up—especially when we don’t have to. We don’t like doing things we don’t want to do. We love our comfort. Our comfort zones. Our preferences. Our personal vibe. Our freedom. We think, “If it’s not a sin, then I’m not changing for anyone. And if it is a sin, I still might not change. It’s a free country isn’t it?”
But what if that attitude is keeping you from doing the actual ministry God saved you to do?
What if you’re getting in the way of someone else seeing Jesus because you insist on saying and doing and being the person you’re most comfortable being—staying in your comfort zone?
Saying things like:
“That’s just who I am.”
“I shouldn’t have to pretend to be someone else.”
“They can take me or leave me.”
Well, sometimes they’re going to leave.
And sometimes they’re going to leave Jesus with you.
Because instead of trying to connect with them so we can share the grace of God—share our hope, we stubbornly insist on showing them our worst selves—unfiltered, unbending, and uninterested in anything about them. Not willing to go out of our way or inconvenience ourselves for the sake of what God wants to do in the world through us.
We need to think about the freedoms we might be abusing.
What do you have the freedom to do? Or to say? Or to wear? That God might be calling you to stop doing, or saying, or wearing—for the sake of someone else? What might God be calling you to do, outside your comfort zone, so you can share how you’ve been blessed with someone else?
This is the tension we’re sitting in today.
Not between right and wrong—but between right and love.
We’re going through the Book of Acts verse by verse. Last week there was a big falling out between Paul and Barnabas. We pick it up with Paul and his new partner Silas in Chapter 16…
Acts 16:1–5
Paul went on to Derbe and Lystra, where there was a disciple named Timothy, the son of a believing Jewish woman, but his father was a Greek. The brothers and sisters at Lystra and Iconium spoke highly of him. Paul wanted Timothy to go with him; so he took him and circumcised him because of the Jews who were in those places, since they all knew that his father was a Greek. As they traveled through the towns, they delivered the decisions reached by the apostles and elders at Jerusalem for the people to observe. So the churches were strengthened in the faith and grew daily in numbers.
Let’s talk about what just happened here.
Timothy’s mother was a Christian, a Jewish woman, his father was Greek—and from the context, it seems he was not a believer. According to Jewish law, since his mom was a Jew, that meant Timothy was considered Jewish, too—even though his dad was not. But since he hadn’t been circumcised, he was seen as an apostate. An outsider. A rule-breaker. Someone who was turning his back on his faith, his heritage, and the Jewish people.
So what, right? Who cares what they think. Right?
As we know, Paul had just come from Jerusalem—where the whole church had agreed that circumcision was not necessary for salvation. Remember Acts 15? The entire book of Galatians. This was the whole point. We are saved by grace through faith in Jesus, not by rituals or rules or any of the Jewish Laws.
So what the heck is going on here? Why does Paul decide Timothy needs to be circumcised?
Did he suddenly change his mind? Is he a hypocrite?
No.
He did it for the sake of the mission.
He had Timothy circumcised so when they entered Jewish communities there wouldn’t be an immediate barrier. So people would listen before they started arguing.
He didn’t do it out of fear of what people might think, or out of obligation to the Law—he did it out of love. For the sake of being able to connect to people and talk to them about Jesus. He did it to remove barriers.
Luther said it like this:
“When Paul encountered stubborn Jews who insisted upon circumcision and the law, he took delight in teaching and doing the very opposite… But when he came to the weak and simple people he even practiced circumcision… until such time as he might strengthen them and deliver them from the law.” (AE 36:253)
This wasn’t hypocrisy.
It wasn’t inconsistent.
It was about love. Wisdom. Sacrifice. And putting the mission first.
Paul had Timothy circumcised because he was a Jew and was going to be ministering to both Jews and gentiles. Another young man, Titus—who was a gentile—Paul insisted that he not be circumcised even though the Jews were trying to demand it.
Let’s be completely honest—I’d rather be Titus than Timothy in this situation. But I’d also rather do what God wants me to do than stay in my comfort zone and miss what God is doing in my life.
Here’s where it slaps us upside the head:
We don’t want to change for anyone.
We’d rather keep our comfort, our routines, our freedoms—even when they’re in the way of people seeing Jesus. Even when we know God is telling us to do something else—give up something, start doing something, strike up a conversation… whatever God is telling us to do.
We get all defensive, we’re like:
“I’m not saved by keeping the law, that’s legalistic.”
Or, why should I do something for other people? “I don’t care what people think.”
Or, you know, “I’m free in Christ—You can’t make me!”
Yeah—but free for what?
Free to push people away from the love of God? Away from Jesus?
Free to make people feel excluded?
If your opinions make anyone feel judged or unwelcome, that’s not Christian freedom. That’s just selfishness dressed up as religious or cultural cruelty.
Timothy had the freedom to not be circumcised—it was within his rights to refuse. He followed Jesus instead.
Jesus didn’t cling to His rights.
He had every right—He’s God.
But He gave it all up.
He let go of comfort.
Let go of status.
Let go of heaven’s glory.
Let go of His life.
Not because He had to.
Because He loved us.
Philippians 2:5–8
"Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross."
He gave up His rights so you could be brought in.
He was rejected so you could be accepted.
He gave it all away so you could gain everything.
And now He says to you:
“If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.”
Matthew 16:24, Mark 8:34, Luke 9:23
Not just admire Him. Not just agree with Him. Follow Him. There are going to be things we have to deny—comforts, preferences, freedoms, rights. Because a cross-shaped life is a life of sacrifice for others. Love is sacrifice.
There’s a really wonderful idea in Lutheran doctrine called the Theology of the Cross—it’s the scandalous, upside-down way God works in the world. The way He saved us and the way He calls us to live, the way we’re called to love and serve each other.
The way of Jesus isn’t about climbing ladders, building platforms, building our brand, and unlocking our destiny. That’s not what success looks like for Christians.
It’s not about getting what we want, manifesting our breakthrough, or “walking in our truth.”
Those things are what we call the Theology of Glory—where it’s all about power and influence, where comfort is the goal, and success is proof that you’re doing it right. Those things are the white witchcraft of Scientology and the prosperity Gospel—that kind of power and success is the way of the world. Not Jesus.
Jesus leads us, in this life, to a cross.
The theology of glory says, “If you’re faithful, if you’re good, God will bless you with comfort, popularity, and victory.” Name it, claim it, take power over it, crush your enemy, and grab everything you can.
The theology of the cross says, “Take up your cross and follow the Crucified One. You’ll suffer, you’ll die, but you’ll rise in new life to be with Him. Show mercy, help the poor and powerless, walk in humility, love your enemy.” The theology of cross doesn’t try to explain when bad things happen, it doesn’t look for a silver lining in every cloud. It trusts that God is good no matter what happens.
The theology of glory wants to win. Now.
The theology of the cross says losing everything for His sake is the win—that lasts.
The path of glory avoids suffering at all costs—it’s very confused by pain—when things go wrong it causes doubt.
The path of the cross says, “Following Jesus will be painful at times—but keep walking through it by faith for the sake of love.” It has hope beyond this world and its suffering. It trusts that God is good and He’s in control.
He said:
“In this world you will have trouble. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” John 16:33
Jesus didn’t overcome the world by flexing—He overcame it by bleeding.
He defeated death by dying. He silences the world, the flesh, and the devil—not by shouting—but in a whisper.
And He invites you to follow Him—through difficult and challenging things, all part of a meaningful life—a living sacrifice. The quiet life of actual power and glory. The kind that changes people. The kind that raises the dead and overcomes the world.
He was talking about the cross. So don’t be surprised when it’s hard. Don’t be shocked when it hurts. Don’t freak out when faith costs you something.
That’s not failure. That’s faithfulness. That’s what faith is for.
It’s not something the world will understand.
But it’s the only path that leads to life and true glory. In talking about the cross, Jesus said, “Father the hour has come to glorify Your Son.”
Most of us would say we’re willing to die for our faith—I don’t know if I believe us—but most of us would say it. Thing is—dying is the easy part. It’s living our faith that’s hard.
Sometimes God is going to call us to give up perfectly good things for the sake of the ministry He wants us to do.
We’re not saved by giving those things up. We’re not saved by doing those things.
But when we realize what Jesus gave up for us—what Jesus did for us… In response, we are called to give up anything that gets in the way of connecting with people and sharing the love of Christ. We’re called to go out of our way, out of our comfort zones, to love and serve people.
So what is it? What’s coming to mind during this message?
What’s something you might need to give up for the sake of someone else’s faith? What’s something you might need to start doing, that you might not want to do, in order to help disciple the people God has put in your life?
I’m not talking about sin—that’s obvious. If you have habitual sin in your life—knock it off! Pray for God to lead you away from temptation and deliver you from evil. Go and sin no more—ask God to help you be faithful. This message isn’t about obvious sin. That should be obvious. Stop it.
I’m talking about the gray areas. The preferences. The comforts. The rights—freedoms. Things neither commanded nor forbidden. Things you like. Things you’re comfortable with. Things you don’t really want to do. Things that keep you from being able to connect with the people God is sending you to. And He is sending you to someone. Your job is to reach people that I can’t reach. What’s keeping you from reaching those people? All those people in your life?
Maybe it’s the way you talk about politics. Or the news. Or theology. All your big opinions, you can’t shut up. Always need to be right. You just push push push.
Maybe it’s the way you joke around. Making jokes at other people’s expense. Using coarse language. Making people feel stupid or unloved. A little push here, a little push there.
Maybe it’s the way you look at certain people who don’t look like you or live like you or believe what you believe. Maybe it’s the way you talk about them. Attacking people instead of ideas. Calling people crazy names. There’s enough crazy in the world, we don’t need to be adding to it.
Maybe it’s just your refusal to step outside your fragile little bubble of comfort and talk with people about your faith. You think you’re too shy. You make it all about you. You think you don’t know enough about the Bible or theology to have a meaningful conversation. It’s not true. All we have to do is be willing to talk about what Jesus means to us. That’s the only thing that’s going to make a difference anyway. Don’t argue with people—just tell your story. Not your opinions. Not your vast knowledge of Bible trivia. Just be willing to tell your story and listen to theirs. Listen to theirs! Even if you think you’re too shy. Even if you have soooo many strong opinions. Even if you think of yourself as a card carrying jerk—it’s time to stop carrying that card everywhere you go.
Maybe you’ve convinced yourself that you don’t need to eat with people after church. You don’t need to accept invitations to hang out with your church friends. You don’t go to Sunday school, or mid-week Bible study, or discipleship groups. You’ve decided you don’t need to. Hmm. Maybe it’s not about you?
What is coming to mind during this message?
Ask God to show you what you’re holding onto that’s in the way of someone else seeing your faith in Jesus clearly?
Then let go of it. Be deliberate. Be bold.
Ask God to show you what He wants you to start doing with your faith to love, serve, and encourage other people.
Not out of fear.
Not out of guilt.
Not because you have to.
Just out of love.
Get out of your comfort zone. For the sake of someone else.
I did not have to stop wearing all black. I could have been offended and told him what to do with his clown costumes. I could have just quietly rebelled against it. You know, wear the slightest little bit of color—I could have got away with it. That would have been within my rights. My freedom. Also, it would have been pride. And disobedience.
I’m talking about love. Love for God, love for people. I’m talking about doing something we don’t want to do for the sake of someone else. Timothy was a young Christian Paul was training to be a great pastor. Paul thought he should be circumcised to make it easier to minister to Jewish people. It wasn’t about his salvation. He didn’t have to do it for himself. But he did it—out of love for people who didn’t believe in Jesus yet.
It was an act of love and faithfulness—and it was painful.
What if the thing God’s calling you to give up, lay down, stop doing—or start doing—is the very thing that’s keeping someone else from seeing Jesus through you?
What is it?
What has come to mind? Who has come to mind?
What are you willing to lay down?
For your neighbor?
For your child?
For your spouse?
For the person you don’t even like that much—but God keeps putting them in your life?
For love to mean anything, it has to cost something.
And when it does—when it actually costs you something—it will start to look like the cross.
Because that’s how the world is changed. The cross is where Jesus gave everything for you—so that now, through you, someone else can also see Him. AMEN