Blinded by Grace

Persecution in Lystra

After being driven from Iconium, Barnabas and I found ourselves heading toward the city of Lystra. The opposition we had faced was fierce, but it had only strengthened our resolve. We were undeterred. The message of Jesus had to reach the Gentiles, and no amount of persecution would stop us. The Spirit was with us, and that gave us courage.

Lystra was different from the cities we had visited before. Unlike Antioch or Iconium, which had a strong Jewish presence, Lystra was predominantly a pagan city. Here, people worshiped the Greek gods, and there was no synagogue to begin with. Still, we knew that the Spirit had called us here for a reason. We didn't need a synagogue, we needed only the power of God and the message of Jesus.

On our first day in Lystra, as we began to preach in the marketplace, I noticed a man sitting off to the side. He was listening intently, but there was something about him that caught my attention. His legs were twisted and withered. It was clear that he had been crippled from birth and had never walked a day in his life. But his eyes, they were full of faith. He hung on every word I spoke about Jesus, and I could feel the Spirit prompting me.

In the middle of my message, I turned to the man and spoke boldly, "Stand up on your feet!"

For a moment, the crowd went silent, unsure of what to expect. The man looked at me, his face a mix of disbelief and hope. Then, without hesitation, he sprang to his feet. The crowd gasped as the man stood tall, his legs strengthened before their very eyes. He began walking, then jumping, his shouts of joy echoing through the marketplace.

The reaction was immediate, and overwhelming.

"The gods have come down to us in human form!" someone shouted. The crowd erupted in chaos. People began rushing toward us, pointing and shouting in their native language. I looked over at Barnabas, confused by the sudden outburst. It was clear they hadn't understood what had just happened.

The people of Lystra believed we were gods. Barnabas, with his calm and commanding presence, was quickly identified as Zeus, the king of the gods. And I, because I had spoken the words that healed the crippled man, was called Hermes, the messenger of the gods. I tried to protest, but the crowd wouldn't listen. Before we knew it, the local priest of Zeus arrived, leading a procession of people carrying garlands and oxen, preparing to offer sacrifices to us.

"Stop!" I shouted, trying to push my way through the crowd. "We are not gods! We are men, just like you!" But my words were drowned out by the excitement of the crowd.

Barnabas and I tore our clothes, a Jewish sign of deep distress, and rushed into the crowd. I raised my voice, trying to reason with them. "Friends, why are you doing this? We are human, just like you! We are bringing you good news, telling you to turn from these worthless things to the living God, who made the heavens and the earth and everything in them."

The crowd hesitated for a moment, listening. I continued, "In the past, He let all nations go their own way, yet He has not left Himself without testimony. He has shown kindness by giving you rain from heaven and crops in their seasons. He provides you with plenty of food and fills your hearts with joy."

For a brief moment, it seemed like they were starting to understand, but the confusion in the crowd lingered. We barely managed to stop them from offering sacrifices to us. It was clear that their worldview, rooted in paganism, was hard to break through. But we didn't lose heart. We knew that the message of Jesus had the power to change even the most entrenched beliefs.

However, our troubles in Lystra were far from over. Word of our presence had reached Iconium, and some of the Jews who had opposed us there made their way to Lystra. They began to stir up the crowd, twisting our words and spreading lies. The same people who had just been ready to worship us as gods quickly turned against us. The mob grew violent, their anger fueled by the lies of the Jewish agitators.

Before I knew what was happening, they dragged me out of the city. I could feel the rocks striking me, each blow sending waves of pain through my body. The crowd had become a frenzy, and they were intent on silencing me once and for all. I could hear their shouts, the hatred in their voices, but I couldn't move. The world around me became a blur as the stones rained down.

Finally, everything went dark.

When I awoke, I was lying outside the city. My body ached, and I could barely move. Barnabas and a few of the believers stood over me, their faces etched with concern. "They thought you were dead," one of them said quietly, helping me to sit up.

I wasn't dead. By the grace of God, I had survived. I should have been terrified, broken by the violence of the mob. But instead, I felt a deep sense of peace. Jesus had suffered for me, and now, I was sharing in His sufferings. My body may have been bruised and beaten, but my spirit was stronger than ever.

With Barnabas' help, I stood to my feet. I wasn't done. We weren't done.

"We need to go back into the city," I said firmly.

The believers were stunned. "You can't go back there," one of them protested. "They'll kill you."

But I knew what we had to do. We couldn't let fear dictate our mission. The gospel had to be preached, no matter the cost. So, with Barnabas by my side, I limped back into Lystra. The crowd had dispersed, and the city was quiet, but our mission wasn't finished. We gathered the few believers who had come to faith and encouraged them, strengthening their resolve to follow Jesus despite the opposition.

The next day, we left Lystra and made our way to Derbe. There, we preached the gospel and won many disciples. But even as we moved forward, Lystra remained in my heart. The persecution we had faced was just the beginning, and I knew that trials awaited us wherever we went. Still, the joy of seeing lives transformed by Jesus made it all worth it.

When we finished our work in Derbe, Barnabas and I decided to retrace our steps, returning to Lystra, Iconium, and Antioch. We encouraged the believers in each city, reminding them that "we must go through many hardships to enter the kingdom of God." This journey was not for the faint of heart, but the reward was eternal.

As we appointed elders in each church and committed the believers to the Lord with prayer and fasting, I felt a deep sense of satisfaction. The seeds had been planted, and God was already bringing the harvest. Despite the opposition, the gospel was advancing, and no amount of persecution could stop it.

Finally, we returned to Antioch, the city where our journey had begun. When we arrived, the believers welcomed us warmly, eager to hear all that God had done. We gathered the church together and reported everything, the miracles, the conversions, the persecution, and the triumphs.

And, as we shared the stories of our mission, one thing became abundantly clear: God had opened the door of faith to the Gentiles. The kingdom of God was expanding beyond Israel, reaching the nations, just as the prophets had foretold.

But this was only the beginning. The road ahead would be filled with even more trials, more persecution, and more challenges. But Barnabas and I were ready. The message of Jesus was worth everything, the suffering, the hardship, the rejection. We had been called to proclaim the name of Jesus to the ends of the earth, and nothing would stop us from fulfilling that call.

No matter the cost.