Text: Acts 9:1-22
“Now there was a certain disciple at Damascus named Ananias; and to him the Lord said in a vision, ‘Ananias.’ And he said, ‘Here I am, Lord.’” —Acts 9:10
What will be your legacy? Or, in other words, what do you think will you be remembered for?
As a 24-year-old young farmer just starting out near Charlotte, North Carolina, Albert McMakin was passionate about sharing his newfound faith with his friends. When a traveling evangelist came to the area for a crusade in September of 1934, Albert invited some of his friends to come out to the meetings to hear the Gospel. One of them, in particular, had very little interest in the matter, as at the time he was preoccupied with becoming a professional baseball player and too busy chasing pretty girls to consider spiritual things. But McMakin sweetened the deal by allowing the young lad to drive his truck. His friend couldn’t resist.
After attending one service, the lad was hooked. Under the conviction of the Holy Spirit, he recognized that he was a sinner in need of a Savior, and just six days before his 16th birthday, that teenager surrendered his life wholly to Jesus. The teenager was Billy Graham, who later wrote in his autobiography that growing up in a Christian home and attending church “grudgingly” left him “restless and resentful,” until he realized the depth of his sin and the dilemma that he was “spiritually dead.” When he bowed the knee to Christ that November night in Charlotte, North Carolina, he rose a brand-new creation, and set out on a path that would change the course of human history for millions upon millions of lives.
Billy Graham’s legacy has reached the ends of the earth, but that story is incomplete apart from the faithful courage of a simple and relatively obscure farmhand named Albert McMakin. Few people may know the name—Albert McMakin—but I assure you that his legacy is rich where it matters most—in light of eternity.
Similarly, as the Apostle Paul’s legacy is incalculable throughout the course of church history, “the rest of the story,” as Paul Harvey would say, cannot be told apart from the faithful courage and simple obedience of a man named Ananias.
After Saul of Tarsus was struck blind on the road to Damascus, Jesus spoke in a vision to a disciple named Ananias and told him to go to Saul. But Ananias was afraid to go because Saul had a terrifying reputation of persecuting the early Christians. Nevertheless, God reassured Ananias, saying, “Go! This man is my chosen instrument to proclaim my name to the Gentiles and their kings and to the people of Israel…” (Acts 9:15–16).
Reluctantly, Ananias obeyed God. He went to Saul, laid hands on him and prayed, “Brother Saul, the Lord—Jesus, who appeared to you on the road as you were coming here—has sent me so that you may see again and be filled with the Holy Spirit” (Acts 9:17). Saul was then healed of his blindness and was baptized. Right away we find him in the Damascus synagogue preaching Jesus to the Jews, and later we see him launching his ministry to the Gentiles under his Roman name, Paul. When he shares his testimony in Acts 22:12, Paul is very clear in mentioning Ananias as part of that life-changing story of God’s grace and goodness in his life. In relatively quiet obedience and obscure faithfulness, Ananias played a significant role in discipling the newly converted Saul, and the rest is history.
God still has Ananiases at work today. They are those who faithfully work behind the scenes. They don’t need the limelight; they simply obey God in the little-known places because the glory of Jesus is bigger to them than personal ambition. They don’t just look to their “own interests, but also to the interests of others” (Philippians 2:4). They consistently show up to teach and disciple others without needing recognition. They hear the cries of those far from God and witness to the lost even when it is intimidating. They serve the marginalized and the forgotten. When God sends them out on an uncomfortable mission, they do it heartily. They give generously and cheerfully, not under compulsion. They love the unlovable, forgive the unforgiveable, and reach out to the unreachable. When God calls them, they say, “Here I am, Lord.” We rarely hear their names, but they are faithful. They are unknown to the multitudes, but they are God’s beloved. Think about that as you seek to abide in Him this week.
PRAYER
Heavenly Father, teach us the beauty of the kind of faithfulness we see in people like Albert McMakin and Ananias—people who simply say ‘yes, Lord,’ without needing any kind of renown or prominence. Holy Spirit, empower us to live the kind of lives that make the name of Jesus far more famous than our own names. Amen.
Questions for Personal Reflection or Group Discussion:
- Who has left a legacy that inspires you? Why?
- Who has been a quiet, faithful, or relatively obscure Gospel-witness in your life?
- Have you ever experienced a conviction over the kind of “spiritual deadness” of which Billy Graham spoke? What happened?
- What stands out to you about the dramatic conversion of Saul (Paul)?
- What will “behind-the-scenes” faithfulness look like in your life this week?
Text: Acts 9:1-22
“Now there was a certain disciple at Damascus named Ananias; and to him the Lord said in a vision, ‘Ananias.’ And he said, ‘Here I am, Lord.’” —Acts 9:10
What will be your legacy? Or, in other words, what do you think will you be remembered for?
As a 24-year-old young farmer just starting out near Charlotte, North Carolina, Albert McMakin was passionate about sharing his newfound faith with his friends. When a traveling evangelist came to the area for a crusade in September of 1934, Albert invited some of his friends to come out to the meetings to hear the Gospel. One of them, in particular, had very little interest in the matter, as at the time he was preoccupied with becoming a professional baseball player and too busy chasing pretty girls to consider spiritual things. But McMakin sweetened the deal by allowing the young lad to drive his truck. His friend couldn’t resist.
After attending one service, the lad was hooked. Under the conviction of the Holy Spirit, he recognized that he was a sinner in need of a Savior, and just six days before his 16th birthday, that teenager surrendered his life wholly to Jesus. The teenager was Billy Graham, who later wrote in his autobiography that growing up in a Christian home and attending church “grudgingly” left him “restless and resentful,” until he realized the depth of his sin and the dilemma that he was “spiritually dead.” When he bowed the knee to Christ that November night in Charlotte, North Carolina, he rose a brand-new creation, and set out on a path that would change the course of human history for millions upon millions of lives.
Billy Graham’s legacy has reached the ends of the earth, but that story is incomplete apart from the faithful courage of a simple and relatively obscure farmhand named Albert McMakin. Few people may know the name—Albert McMakin—but I assure you that his legacy is rich where it matters most—in light of eternity.
Similarly, as the Apostle Paul’s legacy is incalculable throughout the course of church history, “the rest of the story,” as Paul Harvey would say, cannot be told apart from the faithful courage and simple obedience of a man named Ananias.
After Saul of Tarsus was struck blind on the road to Damascus, Jesus spoke in a vision to a disciple named Ananias and told him to go to Saul. But Ananias was afraid to go because Saul had a terrifying reputation of persecuting the early Christians. Nevertheless, God reassured Ananias, saying, “Go! This man is my chosen instrument to proclaim my name to the Gentiles and their kings and to the people of Israel…” (Acts 9:15–16).
Reluctantly, Ananias obeyed God. He went to Saul, laid hands on him and prayed, “Brother Saul, the Lord—Jesus, who appeared to you on the road as you were coming here—has sent me so that you may see again and be filled with the Holy Spirit” (Acts 9:17). Saul was then healed of his blindness and was baptized. Right away we find him in the Damascus synagogue preaching Jesus to the Jews, and later we see him launching his ministry to the Gentiles under his Roman name, Paul. When he shares his testimony in Acts 22:12, Paul is very clear in mentioning Ananias as part of that life-changing story of God’s grace and goodness in his life. In relatively quiet obedience and obscure faithfulness, Ananias played a significant role in discipling the newly converted Saul, and the rest is history.
God still has Ananiases at work today. They are those who faithfully work behind the scenes. They don’t need the limelight; they simply obey God in the little-known places because the glory of Jesus is bigger to them than personal ambition. They don’t just look to their “own interests, but also to the interests of others” (Philippians 2:4). They consistently show up to teach and disciple others without needing recognition. They hear the cries of those far from God and witness to the lost even when it is intimidating. They serve the marginalized and the forgotten. When God sends them out on an uncomfortable mission, they do it heartily. They give generously and cheerfully, not under compulsion. They love the unlovable, forgive the unforgiveable, and reach out to the unreachable. When God calls them, they say, “Here I am, Lord.” We rarely hear their names, but they are faithful. They are unknown to the multitudes, but they are God’s beloved. Think about that as you seek to abide in Him this week.
PRAYER
Heavenly Father, teach us the beauty of the kind of faithfulness we see in people like Albert McMakin and Ananias—people who simply say ‘yes, Lord,’ without needing any kind of renown or prominence. Holy Spirit, empower us to live the kind of lives that make the name of Jesus far more famous than our own names. Amen.
Questions for Personal Reflection or Group Discussion: