September 14, 2026 – Paul’s Error— Acts #55
Acts. 15:36-40
Acts 15:36-41 And after some days Paul said to Barnabas, “Let us return and visit the brothers in every city where we proclaimed the word of the Lord, and see how they are.” Now Barnabas wanted to take with them John called Mark. But Paul thought best not to take with them one who had withdrawn from them in Pamphylia and had not gone with them to the work. And there arose a sharp disagreement, so that they separated from each other. Barnabas took Mark with him and sailed away to Cyprus, but Paul chose Silas and departed, having been commended by the brothers to the grace of the Lord. And he went through Syria and Cilicia, strengthening the churches.
Last week we talked generally about how the Bible views conflict and conflict resolution as an introduction to this disagreement between Paul and Barnabas. I wanted to discuss the details of the conflict without losing the tremendous emotional effect it had on Paul especially. So this past Sunday I did a 20-minute dramatic monologue of Paul looking back on this part of his life. I followed the details from Scripture, but filled in the gaps from early church historians.
By the way, if you ever make it to Rome, Italy, make it a point to see the Mamertine Prison where Paul (and Peter) were held before their execution. From this dark dungeon, Paul wrote his second letter to Timothy. It is not on most tours, but it is easy to find near the Roman Forum. Visiting there was a profoundly emotional experience for me.
A twenty-minute dramatic monologue.
Paul, near the end of his life, is in the dungeon of the Mamertine Prison in Rome. Luke is paying him another visit, but he is unseen and unheard by the audience. Paul has been telling Luke the stories that will become the book of Acts, and here he recalls his disagreement with Barnabas.
Oh Luke, thank you for coming to see me today. And you brought some food! You are too kind to an old man. Can you stay a while? Sorry, this prison is so cold and damp, and I can feel winter coming soon. I do enjoy your visits. Let’s see, last time we were talking about the early years of ministry.
He pauses as if Luke is talking to him.
I think we were up to the time after the Jerusalem council’s decision. Yes, we celebrated in Antioch for some time, but then I knew it was time to head out on another journey. We needed to go back and check on those communities in Galatia where we baptized so many.
His head drops and his tone changes.
Yes, that’s when Barnabas and I had that disagreement about John Mark. I was thinking about that just yesterday. I have had a lot of time to think, sitting in this prison. It’s been two years since I learned of Barnabas’s death. Barnabas and I spent so many years together. I suppose there are some people who become so much a part of your life that you don’t realize how much space they occupy until they’re gone. Barnabas was one of those people. And then we couldn’t agree about John Mark.
You know John Mark had left our first missionary journey only halfway through. Those were difficult times, and the persecution was only increasing. I told John Mark to stick with us and that God would give us the strength to see the journey through. But he was determined to quit on us. I remember being very disappointed in him and very angry with him. I spoke harshly to him. I told him he had no faith. I told him that if he was going to follow Jesus, he couldn’t turn back when things became difficult. Then he just walked off.
So when we were planning our next journey, Barnabas insisted that John Mark go with us. I quickly shouted, “No!” He said that John Mark was just young when we made that first trip. He said John Mark had made a mistake, but he had matured since then. He believed that he was now ready to face whatever trials this journey would bring.
But I wouldn’t listen. I told him he just favored John Mark because he was his cousin. I said, “We have to be realistic. This trip will be dangerous. We can’t afford to take someone who might leave again when the going gets tough.” I said, “We don’t need a quitter.”
Barnabas then told me something I now consider a great truth, but at the time I did not accept it. He said we just needed to show John Mark some grace, just as God had shown us grace. Grace.
(Paul lets the word hang in the air.)
I told him I agreed that grace was important. Of course it was. I had been preaching on the grace of God for years. But this was a dangerous mission, and we had to be practical. John Mark had his chance, and he failed. I said, “No way is he going with us! Then I said something I wished I could take back. I told Barnabas he was just being a sentimental old softie, afraid to face the truth that his cousin was not fit to go with us. And I saw the hurt in his eyes.
Paul closes his eyes and looks up.
Oh, Barnabas. I am sorry. I am so sorry. Those were the last words I spoke to you on this earth. Not “thank you.” Not “God bless you.” Not “I love you, brother.” Not “Let’s talk about this again.” We should have parted after praying for each other, but instead those awful words still ring in my ears.
He left, and he took John Mark with him to Cyprus. I took Silas north to Cilicia and Galatia. And the work continued. Many new followers of Jesus were baptized. New communities formed and existing communities strengthened. God blessed the work. And because God blessed the work…I suppose I thought that proved I had been right.
That’s how we can fool ourselves, Luke. I mistook the blessing of God for the approval of God. Our work didn’t prosper because I was right. But God made it successful despite my sin. That is what God always does. He takes the bad things we do, or that other people do, and makes good out of the bad.
The days were hard then. The travels were hard, the persecution was intense, and I was in and out of prison for years. And through it all, God kept expanding His kingdom as the gospel message spread. I was so busy that I didn’t think about Barnabas. Now and then someone would ask me about him, but I would just change the subject.
Years passed. And then the news came. Barnabas was martyred in Cyprus by an angry mob. And hearing that, I broke inside. And I was consumed by the thought that I would never have the chance on this earth to make it right with him. Never. You know, that word doesn’t mean much when you are young, but when you are nearing the end of your life, “never” becomes a difficult word.
And now, Luke, I must say that this time of my life is very difficult. Of all the places I have been imprisoned, this Mamertine dungeon is the most cruel. Not just because it is cold and damp, though that is hard on these old bones, and it is not because the only natural light is from the hole in the floor above me. But here, as you well know, they severely limit my visitors. Oh, now, when I was on house arrest in Rome, I could have all the visitors I wanted. We could study the Scriptures and worship together anytime. But now I have no one but you, Luke. If you didn’t bring me food, I would starve. But the worst part is that I know my time on this earth is very short, and there are so many people I would like to tell about Jesus, and so many places I would like to carry the gospel. But… I will likely be here until Nero decides to end my life. So all I can do now is write letters like the one we have been working on for Timothy.
Oh, but Barnabas….Since I heard of his death, I have spent many days thinking of him. I thought back to the first time I met him. It was some time after my experience with Jesus on the Damascus Road. I traveled to Jerusalem to meet the disciples of my Messiah. There was much I wanted to discuss with them. But when I arrived, they went into hiding. They were scared of me. Of course they were. What did I expect after I had spent that time hunting them down, dragging their friends out of their homes to face punishment for following Jesus? Some were beaten. Some went to prison. You see, they thought I was just pretending to be a Jesus follower so I could infiltrate their meetings and then arrest them all. I had almost given up any hope of being accepted by them when who should come to me but Barnabas.
Barnabas greeted me with that smile of his that just made you feel welcome. He was willing to take the risk to give old Saul of Tarsus a second chance. A second chance that I didn’t deserve. He gave me that grace when no one else would. And Barnabas was the first to forgive me, as God had forgiven me for my actions against the faith. And then Barnabas told the apostles about my experience with Jesus, and he convinced them to meet with me. I owe so much to him.
Then, when Barnabas was in Antioch, ministering to the Gentile followers of Jesus there, he traveled all the way to Tarsus to find me and invite me to join him. It was Barnabas again who opened that door for me and gave me a place in the ministry there. He believed in me.
And we really became so close on that first missionary journey. You and I talked of that yesterday. Full of highs and lows that brought Barnabas and me closer together. He was a brother to me. I thought nothing could separate us.
Oh, many were coming to accept Jesus as their Messiah, but many others called us blasphemers. We were run out of one town and left another under threat of death, and finally in Lystra I was stoned and dragged outside the city, left for dead. But God wasn’t done with me, and when I regained consciousness, who was right there with me but Barnabas, caring for my wounds. He was so faithful. He never left my side.
Then, when we returned to Antioch, some Pharisees from Jerusalem came and told our Gentile followers they weren’t really saved. They told them they had to be circumcised to be saved. Well, Barnabas and I just looked at each other speechless. We had seen God’s Holy Spirit fall on those Gentiles just as He had on us. So we went up to Jerusalem to meet with James, Peter, and the elders. Ah, and that is as far as I got telling you the story yesterday.
After the council had reached its decision, we came back to Antioch together with the good news that the Gentiles, just like us, were saved by grace, not by works. It was always about grace. Soon after, Barnabas asked me to show grace to John Mark. But I refused. I refused. Do you see the irony? I had traveled hundreds of miles preaching about God’s grace. But I couldn’t practice grace toward others. I understood the theology of grace, but Barnabas practiced the heart of grace. I could explain God’s grace, but Barnabas knew best how to demonstrate God’s grace.
It took God years to bring me to understand my error with John Mark. I remember the first time I saw John Mark after that argument with Barnabas. It was many years later, and he came to visit me while I was under house arrest in Rome. He held no grudge against me, even though he knew I rejected him back then. He greeted me warmly and told me about his journeys with Barnabas and all the people who decided to follow our Messiah, Jesus. He spoke of the dangers, the persecution, and the suffering. And through it all, John Mark stayed with Barnabas. He had learned, he had grown, and he had become a faithful servant of Jesus.
He was young when he left us in Perga, and he made a mistake. And somehow…I had confused a mistake with a person’s character. I had taken one moment in his life…and turned it into a definition of his entire life. How could I have been so wrong? And looking at John Mark in that moment, I could almost hear Barnabas saying, “Paul, he just needs another chance.” And again it washed over me how wrong I had been. Who was I to refuse to give someone another chance?
God had given me more chances than I could count. I deserved a second chance from God less than anyone on earth. I watched in approval while Stephen was stoned to death; I tracked down Jesus’ followers like they were animals and had them arrested. I had made myself an enemy of the very people Jesus had died to save. And what did Jesus do with me? He didn’t cast me aside, but he met me on the road.
I can still hear those words from Jesus just as if it happened today. “Saul, why are you persecuting me?” Luke, I deserved for God to strike me dead, but instead, he poured out his grace on me and struck me temporarily blind so I could see the truth. I got another chance. I got another life. I got another ministry. I got another purpose. And then…when John Mark needed that second chance… I couldn’t find it in my heart to give it. Barnabas was right. I was wrong. And Luke, that isn’t easy for an old Pharisee to say.
A faint smile.
You know me well enough to know that. I’ve spent my whole life arguing. I’ve stood before kings, Governors, Philosophers, and Religious leaders. I’ve defended the gospel. I’ve fought for what I believed was true. And I still believe truth matters. It does. But I’ve learned something else. Sometimes being right isn’t enough. Sometimes you can win the argument…and lose something far more important — the relationship.
I get that now. The whole story of the Bible is God seeking a way to restore a relationship with us, even though we are wrong.
Barnabas knew that, and perhaps that’s why his name fit him so well. You know, his given name was Joseph. Barnabas was just his nickname, Son of encouragement, a fine choice. He encouraged me when nobody else trusted me. He searched for me when I was forgotten. He stood beside me when the work was hard. He defended the Gentiles and stood with me before the apostles. And when I wanted to write John Mark off…Barnabas wouldn’t do it.
He saw something in Mark that I couldn’t see, perhaps because Barnabas knew better than I how to see through God’s eyes. For God doesn’t look on our faults; he looks on our needs. He doesn’t focus on our past, but on our potential. And I think God remembers us for our best day, not our worst day.
Paul looks down at his hands.
I wonder what Barnabas thought after we separated. Did he talk about me? Did he tell Mark not to be bitter? Did he pray for me? Did he wonder whether we would ever work together again? I wish I knew. I wish I could ask him. But he is gone. And I’ve spent years wishing I could have one more conversation with him. One more walk. One more meal. Perhaps even one more argument.
He smiles sadly.
I would gladly have that argument in Antioch again. Only this time…I’d listen. I would say: “Barnabas, tell me again.” And when he told me that Mark needed grace… I would say: “You’re right.” I would say, “Let’s give him another chance.” But then I didn’t say that then. And now I can not.
Long pause.
I’ve learned something else in these last years. Grace isn’t cheap. It cost Jesus everything. But grace is not ours to hoard. God gives grace to us… so that grace can pass through us to everyone else. That’s what I missed. I thought grace was just something God gave to sinners like me. I didn’t realize that grace was supposed to change the way I treated sinners like me.
John Mark didn’t need me to pretend he hadn’t failed. He had failed. He knew it. I knew it. Barnabas knew it. Grace doesn’t mean pretending the failure never happened. Grace means the failure doesn’t get the final word.
And even though I sinned in not showing Mark grace, Grace still got the last word. Do you see, Luke, how God worked this out? He took my sin, and He made something good of it. He made two mission journeys instead of one. And He used us all. He redeemed John Mark. The man I once refused to take with me became one of my fellow workers. That is how good our God is.
And I tell you, John Mark is going to do something special. Mark my words. God has even greater plans for him. You know, all that time he spent with Peter, he was taking notes on all of Peter’s stories about Jesus. Who knows, maybe Mark will put those stories in a book one day for everyone to read. Wouldn’t that be something?
He prays
God, thank you so much for John Mark. And for Barnabas. And again for giving me grace and teaching me that grace is not to be held onto tightly but to be freely shared in our world. Amen.
Speaking of writing, you are working on your own account, aren’t you, Luke? Good. Write it carefully. People will need to know. Tell them about Jesus. Tell them about the cross. Tell them about the resurrection. Tell them about grace.
And if you tell them about Barnabas and me…tell them the truth. Don’t make it seem that we were perfect. Instead, tell them we loved Jesus. Tell them we tried to serve Him. Tell them we sometimes disagreed. Tell them sometimes we were right… and sometimes we were wrong. But tell them that no matter what happened, God worked it all out for good. Tell them God can use people who aren’t perfect…. Because that’s the only kind of people He has.
Paul laughs softly.
I am definitely proof of that.
Pause
Luke…have you sent off that second letter to Timothy? Can you add something for me? The closing part. I need to encourage Timothy to come to Rome and to bring someone with him.
Good, now write this down exactly.
“Do your best to come to me quickly, Timothy, for Demas, because he loved this world, has deserted me and has gone to Thessalonica. Crescens has gone to Galatia, and Titus to Dalmatia. Only Luke is with me.” And then add this: “Get John Mark and bring him with you…”
(He smiles.)
Yes. That’s important. “Get John Mark and bring him with you…”
Because…
(Paul pauses, fighting emotion.)
“…because he is helpful to me in my ministry.”
He looks up
Yes, Barnabas, he is. Thanks be to God for you, Luke. And thanks be to God for John Mark, for Barnabas, and for Jesus and His grace.
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