Summary
After a man unable to walk is healed at the temple gate, a crowd gathers, and Peter turns their astonishment toward Jesus, the one whose name and power made the man whole. Pastor Dominic Jackson continues reflecting on healing, holding together the reality of miracles with the many ways God brings restoration, whether through prayer, medicine, or community. He calls the church to notice those left outside its doors and to become a place of healing for them. Above all, he considers the power of testimony. Just as the healed man could not help but share what God had done, every follower of Jesus has a story of being met by him that is worth telling, even when that story is still unfinished.
Questions for reflection
The sermon describes two extremes in thinking about miracles: that they never happen today, or that healing depends on praying hard enough. Which have you encountered? How does the idea that God heals “with power” and “with presence” reshape your view?
The man in this story was healed outside a place called Beautiful, where he had been excluded. Who might be “outside the gate” of your church, your neighborhood, or your daily routine? How could you extend a hand to them?
Peter immediately redirects the crowd’s attention from himself to Jesus. When God works through you, how do you keep the focus on him?
The healed man in John 9 didn’t have theological answers. He simply told what happened to him. Why do you think personal stories can be so powerful? What keeps you from sharing yours?
Complete this sentence: “Jesus met me when I was ___.” What would it look like to share that story with someone this week?
Your story may still be unfolding. How can you speak honestly about where God has met you, even if healing isn’t complete yet?
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Dominic Jackson:
Last week, we talked about miracles. Specifically, we looked at our text and how we should approach these stories—and there are going to be quite a few of them in the book of Acts. How do we read these accounts where we see somebody, like this man, miraculously healed?And the temptation, I think, for many Christians is to fall into one of two extremes, theologically and practically, right? Either miracles don’t happen—that’s the stuff of make-believe—or, even for Christians, “Yeah, that took place 2,000 years ago, but that’s a long time ago. God doesn’t heal people anymore. God doesn’t do this. These have ceased to exist,” right? The supernatural was for a time, and that time is not ours. So that’s one camp.
And then others fall into the other extreme, which is that miracles are the main event—often even more than the one who is doing the miracle, right? The miracle worker. This camp would basically say, “This power is available to everyone, here and now. And if you are not being healed, then maybe you’re just not praying hard enough,” right? “Maybe you’re not believing enough.” The problem is not with the prayer, but with the one praying, right? Maybe the problem is with you.
It would be no surprise that I find myself theologically in the gray, where I often hang out—and I think many of us probably do. Because the truth is, I have seen things sometimes that I just cannot explain. There are things that happen, and there’s no other explanation. There’s no other way to describe it than as a miracle. And so what do we do with that? What do we do when something completely unexplainable happens? A diagnosis disappears. An injury is there one day, and the next morning it’s gone. A deep spiritual or emotional wound that has defined a person—a person who was hurt—just somehow is healed within them, in their heart.
And so last week we talked about when the impossible happens. But we also talked about when our prayers are not answered—when tragedy strikes, when the pain or the disease or the trauma doesn’t just magically disappear overnight. And we reflected on how God’s heart is always to heal. Sometimes he heals with power, and sometimes he heals with presence. But most importantly, sometimes that healing doesn’t happen this side of heaven. On the other side, one day, all of these things—our broken bodies and diseases and that pain—will go away. But while we find ourselves here, somewhere in between, in the kingdom of God that is both now and not yet—here we are. And though in heaven every sin and every tear will be wiped away one day, here we are, waiting. So what do we do in the meantime?
Additionally, we talked about how healing doesn’t always look like the example in our text, with that man being healed, right? Sometimes healing isn’t even over a person’s body. Maybe it’s a heart, a mind, a memory, a relationship, a friendship, a marriage.
And in the same way that the “what” we saw in our text can look different, sometimes the “how” can also look very different. We do not have to choose between God and science. Maybe you grew up hearing that, but I don’t believe it. We don’t have to choose between God and medicine, or God and healthcare. There is no verse in the Bible that says if you are struggling mentally, physically, or emotionally, something is clearly wrong with you and you just need to pray harder. And often in my own life, I have seen God use professionals to bring healing to me, right? Not to mention, Jesus in John 9—if you’re familiar with that—completely dismantles that belief.
I have seen how God has worked through both prayer and medicine—prayer and doctors, prayer and lifestyle changes. And God uses doctors, dietitians, therapists, coaches, teachers, sometimes even strangers at a coffee shop, right? But sometimes God also works—and I’ve seen this; I can’t explain it, I don’t fully understand it or predict it—but sometimes he does work through laying hands on someone and praying over them. And what I’ve also seen is that when we see someone healed, sometimes it comes with power, and other times it comes with presence.
And so we jump right back into our text from last week, where we saw somebody healed miraculously, right? And this person is healed in more ways than one. This was a person who was left outside—a person who had a lot of pain, I would imagine, from being an outcast in their society. And so we see this person healed physically, but healed in many other ways too. And so, as we close this out this morning, we’re going to do something a little different here today, in our service. I see this text as maybe an invitation for us to do just what this man did, right—to share our stories. Before we do that, let’s pray together, and then we’ll look at our text again.
Lord, my prayer this morning is simple. We ask for healing—healing in our nation, healing in our communities, healing in our homes. We also pray for healing individually, for anyone who is holding something, feeling something, battling something. And we know that sometimes you heal with power, and sometimes you heal with your presence. We pray for both, whatever that looks like. We also pray for opportunities to bring healing—through you, of course, and only you. But we ask that you use us just like you used Peter and John in our text from last week—that you use us to bring hope and healing to those we come across who are reaching out, just like this man did. Lord, open our eyes to what is around us, to the needs around us, and use us, Lord, as vessels of your hope and your healing. We pray this in Jesus’ name. Amen.
If you have a copy of the Scriptures, turn with me to Acts 3, and we’re going to finish this out. First, before we get there, a quick recap from last week. Peter and John are making their way into the temple courts, and they come across a guy—if you weren’t here—who’s begging for money, right? He’s sitting outside of the temple. He has his hand out. He’s begging for money. And he’s a man who’s disabled. It says he was disabled since birth, which means this man more than likely would not have been married. He couldn’t provide for a family. He wouldn’t have had a job. His entire life would have been at the mercy of other people, who would pick him up and bring him to the temple gate, right?
And at this time—remember, we see this in John 9—even the disciples, even the people closest to Jesus, who should have known better, right? The first question they ask when they come across someone who’s disabled is, “Who sinned? Was it this guy, or was it his parents?” Because clearly, if you have a disability, a disorder, a disease, an ailment of any sort, you are being cursed or punished by God. And Jesus has to say, “No, no, no.” He has to correct them, right? He has to say—my paraphrase—sin exists in the world, but God does not punish people by giving them these things.
And so this man would have been completely left out of this community. He would have been seen as a sinner, and spiritually, ceremonially unclean. This means he would not have been allowed to enter the temple. There is a reason we find him outside the temple gates. He’s not inside the temple. He’s waiting outside. This is as close as he could get to the place where it was said you go to meet with God.
As a side note, this is just something so completely scandalous about the gospel—about the message of Jesus and the disciples who follow him, right? Notice: Jesus always moves into the mess. He doesn’t say, “Fix yourself, and then come to me. Heal yourself, figure it out, and then maybe you’ll deserve to be in my presence.” Christianity isn’t about us earning our way up to God. It is about God coming down to us, right? To walk with us, to live with us. He lived as a man. He lived this difficult life. It’s about how God’s heart is always to reach down to us, so we don’t have to try to reach out and earn our way to him, right?
And so this guy meets these two disciples, and they say, “We don’t have any money. Silver or gold we do not have. But what we do have is something better.” And they pray over the guy in the name of Jesus, and he is healed. Additionally, all of this takes place at a gate called Beautiful, if you remember that. And so the encouragement for us was this: they go to this place called Beautiful, and here is this man sitting outside of it. And as we enter, the invitation for us was to ask: as we enter into this beautiful place each week, who is outside of it, right?
The faithful Jewish people would have been entering the temple every single day, walking past this man, who it says begged there every day. And so the invitation—the question for each one of us to ask—is: who is outside? What stories are outside of this beautiful place? And how might we extend a hand to them?
And I share this not to pat ourselves on the back or anything. But there are so many times when we get here early in the morning—Matt or Eli or someone is helping out, and we’re putting our beautiful sign out, right, to tell people that we’re here—and somebody will be on the sidewalk, sleeping, or passed out, or going through a really tough time. And it’s not, “Hey, can you get out of the way so we can do this?” The posture is always, “Come upstairs. Come grab a cup of coffee. Come worship with us. There is a place for you.”
And I only share that to say: my prayer for 2027 is just for more of that—more of our eyes being open to the needs around us. I don’t want our reputation to be, “That’s a beautiful building”—it is, by the way—or, like this gate was known, “That’s a beautiful location.” More so, the invitation for us is to be a hospital for the hurting, not a country club for the insiders, right? And so we’ve got to look around a bit and reflect on what God might be inviting us into.
Last week, I closed with two questions. The first was: who might we bring healing to? Again, think about those around us—strangers, people in our community, coworkers. Who might we bring healing to? And again, healing comes with a listening ear. It comes with speaking truth over lies. It comes with showing up with a cup of coffee. It comes with community and generosity and attention—but also with prayer. And so the question was, who around us might God want to use us for, as he used these two disciples? Who might he want to use us to bring healing to, right? Not by our own power, but only as vessels. Who might we be walking past who could use some healing?
The second question was: if you have experienced a form of healing—and again, that could look very different in your life—will you do what this man did and tell your story? Because these stories, these testimonies, are like little snapshots of heaven—of what we can expect in heaven, right? They are pictures, parables, of God’s grace and love and healing. And the best thing you could possibly do with your story—the best thing to do with good news—is to share it, right?
I mean, we do this with so many things. If you discover a new restaurant, or you find a new recipe, or a new TV show on Netflix, right, what’s the first thing you do? You tell somebody. Or, if you’re obnoxious like me, you tell everybody, right? “You’ve got to go try this place,” or whatever, right? I’m late to the game, but we just went to a frozen custard place on the south side. Amazing. It’ll change your life, right? I didn’t even think I liked custard—I didn’t even know what custard was—but it was amazing. So I’ve told, like, 10 people already: “You’ve got to try it.” I can’t remember the name of it. I’ll Google it later. But still—whenever you experience good news, good news is meant to be shared. And what better news is there than “I have experienced the love and grace of Jesus—let me tell you about it”?
Speaking of healing and testimony, have you ever seen those videos where somebody experiences some form of healing? And I don’t mean a faith healer at, like, a wacky church where they slap the demons out of you or whatever—or some grifter pastor—none of that. I mean a person whose entire life is changed in a moment, and you get to see that moment happen. I saw one of a guy, I think in his 50s or 60s, who had an extreme form of color blindness his entire life. And then, with technology, he gets these new glasses, and he puts them on, and for the first time in his entire life, he can see color. He sees his children’s hair color for the first time. And he’s crying, and I’m crying, and it’s a whole thing, right? Have you ever seen those videos? Or the ones that really get me are the ones with a little kid—I think of one where a little boy gets a hearing aid and hears his mom’s voice for the very first time. Oh, it just stabs me in the heart every time.
I mean, the worst, though—side note, this won’t make it into the other service either, I’m sure—is when you’re watching those videos, and it’s right before the big reveal. Right before it’s about to happen—they put the hearing aid on, or the man is about to take his first steps unassisted in physical therapy, or whatever—the big moment is about to happen, and then, out of nowhere, it’s like, “Do you really know Ashley Hinson?” Or, “Josh Turek thinks you’re a jerk.” Like, oh—sorry. Just every time. And I’m crying, I’m wiping my tears, like, “Oh, I’ve got to spring for YouTube Premium next time,” or whatever. I don’t know. Unrelated. That was not a political endorsement or anything, by the way. Back to the videos—sorry.
In a moment, in these videos, we see their entire lives change, right? There’s no going back. “I can hear.” “I can walk.” Whatever it is. And the reason I’m seeing this and crying in my home on the other side of the world is that someone uploaded it. Somebody shared that video on social media. All because somebody told their story.
Which is what happens in Acts 3, from last week. Last week’s text, verse 8: “He jumped to his feet and began to walk. Then he went with them into the temple courts, walking and jumping, and praising God. When all the people saw him walking and praising God, they recognized him as the same man who used to sit begging at the temple gate called Beautiful, and they were filled with wonder and amazement at what had happened to him.” Notice: everyone here—everyone around, everyone witnessing—is filled with wonder and amazement.
Today’s text picks up right where that ends. Verse 11: “While the man held on to Peter and John, all the people were astonished and came running to them in the place called Solomon’s Colonnade. When Peter saw this, he said to them: ‘Fellow Israelites, why does this surprise you? Why do you stare at us as if by our own power or godliness we had made this man walk? The God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the God of our fathers, has glorified his servant Jesus. You handed him over to be killed, and you disowned him before Pilate, though he had decided to let him go. You disowned the Holy and Righteous One and asked that a murderer be released to you. You killed the author of life, but God raised him from the dead. We are witnesses of this. By faith in the name of Jesus, this man whom you see and know was made strong. It is Jesus’ name and the faith that comes through him that has completely healed him, as you can all see.’”
So Peter and John use this as a moment to do a couple of things. The first is to convict the Israelites here, right? To convict the Jewish people—to call them out. There might be some people in this very temple who were the very ones screaming, “Crucify him!” These are people—and so he’s saying, “This is what we did. This is what happened. There was a death. Jesus died because of your hearts.” And so he takes a moment and shares the gospel, essentially. He starts with sin, and then the death of Jesus. But this is also a moment to point to the heart of God—the God who heals, the God who brings favor to the lowly, the God who breaks down the dividers of the temple, of who is in and who is out.
As for the man, he’s just running around and jumping, right, letting everyone know what has happened. They could see his testimony bopping around the temple. It reminds me, again, of John 9. In that story, a man was born blind, and then he’s healed by Jesus, if you know that account. And what’s the first thing he does? He starts telling everybody. But the religious leaders decide to make this into a theological witch hunt. They want the man to testify that Jesus is a sinner. They keep pressing him to say that Jesus somehow broke the law by this healing. And they don’t like the man’s response. So then they call in the parents and ask, “Is this your son? Maybe this is somebody else.” And they have to acknowledge, “Yeah, this is him. We can’t explain it either.”
So then the guy is brought back in, and they say, “Tell us the truth. Tell us that Jesus is a sinner—that he sinned by performing this miracle on you.” And the guy says, my paraphrase, “I can’t confirm or deny whether this man broke the law. I don’t have theological answers to your questions. All I know is I couldn’t see, and then this Jesus showed up and touched me, and now I can.” This man is not ready for an apologetics debate. He’s not ready to give a lecture or testify in court. All he wants to do is tell his story: “Here’s where I was, and then I met Jesus, and he changed everything.”
And so this morning, we’re going to do the same. This man in the temple experiences the healing power of Jesus through the faithfulness of Peter and John, and his first reaction is to run into the temple. And I think we often forget the power of stories—of testimonies.
This morning, I had a sermon I was really excited about—mostly because I was really in the weeds in the commentaries, and there’s this cool connection to Ezekiel. I mean, I liked this sermon because it made me sound smart. Let’s just call it what it is, right? But what I kept coming back to was that there’s something so much greater for us to hear, and it’s the power of a story.
And so I don’t know how this is going to go. I think all of us here have these stories. Maybe not “I couldn’t walk, and then all of a sudden I could.” Maybe—if that’s you, please tell us that story! But most of us have experienced, or are experiencing, the grace and beauty and love of Jesus in one way or another. So in a minute, I’m going to get out of the way. And if somebody wants to come down and share—just a couple of minutes, not your whole life story, please—just take two, three, four minutes. There will be a prompt. And it’s simply: a moment when Jesus met you. That’s it.
Two more caveats, and then I’ll move out of the way. One is: often people will tell their stories—and if you’ve ever been in a room like that, maybe a youth group, and you’re number six or seven—and if your story isn’t, “Yeah, I met Jesus in a prison cell,” or, “I met Jesus on a hospital bed—I was pronounced dead,” or, “I was in rehab”—those stories are incredible. But maybe that’s not your story. It’s probably not most of our stories. And I think the temptation is to think, “Well, my story probably doesn’t matter. Nobody would really care about it, because they’re not going to make my story into a Lifetime movie anytime soon,” right? But that is a straight-up lie from the enemy. All of us are a part of God’s story. And so any place where God has met you is miraculous. I just want to share that. So again, if your story isn’t going to be a bestseller anytime soon, that doesn’t mean it isn’t important to God, and for others to hear.
And the second, last thing: your story might still be being edited. It still might be coming together—specifically, the place where God is meeting you and has met you. Your story might not end with “happily ever after,” at least this side of heaven. It will one day, but it might not right now. And around here, we are big on authenticity and vulnerability and honesty. So it might be messy. You might have good days and bad days. You might feel 75 percent healed from that addiction or that struggle or that pain, and that is okay.
The man in John 9 responds to the questions from the religious leaders: “All I know is I was blind, and now I see.” I met Jesus, and now I can see. The man in Acts 3 was dancing around, and when he was, no doubt, asked what in the world had happened, I’m sure he said something like, “The power of Jesus met me when I was crippled. Now I can walk. I thought I wanted silver and gold, but what I needed was something so much greater,” right?
And so the invitation is simply to complete this: “Jesus met me when I was ___.” When I was alone. When I was lost. When I was hopeless. When I was scared. When I was hurting. When I was confused. When I was anxious. When I was struggling. When I was doubting. Jesus met me when I was there.