A lot of people today walk into churches wondering:
“Would I be welcome here?”
“If they knew my past… my struggles… my doubts… would I still belong?”
Sadly, sometimes the Church has made it harder than it should be to answer confidently, “Yes, you belong.”
This isn’t a new problem. In Acts 15, the early church faced this very question. As the gospel began reaching Gentiles—outsiders, foreigners, people without the traditional signs of belonging—the church had to wrestle with a crucial issue:
What really makes someone fully part of God’s people?
Is it faith in Jesus alone, or is it faith plus something else—tradition, ritual, heritage?
Their decision changed history, and it still shapes us today.
So as we explore Acts 15 together, let's ask ourselves honestly:
How do we define who truly belongs?
What does it really mean to be God's people?
And are we still listening to the Holy Spirit the way the early church did?
Because if the Spirit is still leading us—and He is—then we must be certain our community is still being shaped by a faith that makes us one.
ACTS 15 While Paul and Barnabas were at Antioch of Syria, some men from Judea arrived and began to teach the believers (this): “Unless you are circumcised as required by the law of Moses, you cannot be saved.” 2 Paul and Barnabas disagreed with them, arguing vehemently. Finally, the church decided to send Paul and Barnabas to Jerusalem, accompanied by some local believers, to talk to the apostles and elders about this question. 3 The church sent the delegates to Jerusalem, and they stopped along the way in Phoenicia and Samaria to visit the believers. They told them—much to everyone’s joy—that the Gentiles, too, were being converted.
4 When they arrived in Jerusalem, Barnabas and Paul were welcomed by the whole church, including the apostles and elders. They reported everything God had done through them.5 But then some of the believers who belonged to the sect of the Pharisees stood up and insisted, “The Gentile converts must be circumcised and required to follow the law of Moses.”
6 So the apostles and elders met together to resolve this issue. 7 At the meeting, after a long discussion, Peter stood and addressed them as follows: “Brothers, you all know that God chose me from among you some time ago to preach to the Gentiles so that they could hear the Good News and believe. 8 God knows people’s hearts, and he confirmed that he accepts Gentiles by giving them the Holy Spirit, just as he did to us. 9 He made no distinction between us and them, for he cleansed their hearts through faith. 10 So why are you now challenging God by burdening the Gentile believers with a yoke that neither we nor our ancestors were able to bear?11 We believe that we are all saved the same way, by the undeserved grace of the Lord Jesus.”
12 Everyone listened quietly as Barnabas and Paul told about the miraculous signs and wonders God had done through them among the Gentiles.
13 When they had finished, James stood and said, “Brothers, listen to me. 14 Peter has told you about the time God first visited the Gentiles to take from them a people for himself.15 And this conversion of Gentiles is exactly what the prophets predicted. As it is written:
16 ‘Afterward I will return
and restore the fallen house[d] of David.
I will rebuild its ruins
and restore it,
17 so that the rest of humanity might seek the Lord,
including the Gentiles—
all those I have called to be mine.
The Lord has spoken—
18 he who made these things known so long ago.
“This is the Word of the Lord.”
“Thanks be to God.”
I. The Crisis: Faith + Tradition? (Acts 15:1–2)
The moment Acts 15 opens, we can feel the tension in the room. Some believers—well-meaning, sincere Jewish Christians—come to Antioch and make a bold statement: “Unless you are circumcised according to the custom taught by Moses, you cannot be saved.” Just like that, the early Church is thrown into crisis.
Now, to understand this moment, we have to remember what circumcision meant. It wasn’t just a ritual. It was a sacred identity marker that stretched all the way back to Abraham in Genesis 17. For generations, circumcision defined who belonged to the covenant family of God. It was what set the Jewish people apart in the world. To many, it wasn’t just tradition—it was obedience, it was security, it was their story.
So when Gentiles started coming to faith in Jesus, the question wasn’t just theological—it was deeply personal. “Can someone really belong to the people of God if they don’t look like us, act like us, follow the marks we’ve always trusted?”That’s the heart of the debate. And it quickly became a flashpoint.
Paul and Barnabas—leaders in the Antioch church, a church full of Gentile converts—weren’t having it. Luke says they had “no small dissension and debate,” which is the Bible’s polite way of saying it got heated. Because for Paul, this wasn’t a small issue. It was the difference between grace and legalism, between trusting Christ or adding human efforts to what only God can do.
Now here’s why this matters today: we may not be debating circumcision anymore, but churches still struggle with the same impulse. We may say we believe in salvation by grace through faith, but how often do we communicate—intentionally or not—that someone must first look like us, vote like us, worship like us, clean up like us to really belong?
“Faith plus...” is still a problem. And it shows up in subtle ways:
“They can be part of the church… once they stop smoking.”
“She’s welcome… once she dresses more appropriately.”
“I’m glad they’re here… but I hope they don’t bring all their baggage with them.”
It’s easy to assume that faith is the starting line, but the real belonging comes after someone fits in.
And yet, the gospel tells a different story. Paul knew that if we add anything to the requirements for salvation or inclusion in the Church, we don’t just risk making things harder—we lose the gospel altogether. Because salvation is not faith plus anything. It’s not faith plus ritual. It’s not faith plus tradition. It’s not faith plus our comfort.
It’s Jesus. Just Jesus.
Let me be clear—faith in Jesus welcomes us just as we are, but it never leaves us that way.
God doesn’t ask us to pass a test before we’re invited to the table.
He brings us in by grace, and then begins the work of changing us—lovingly, from the inside out.
This is the Spirit’s work in us: not behavior that earns belonging, but belonging that transforms behavior.
That’s why the question raised in Acts 15 still matters today.
Do we really believe that faith in Christ is enough to make someone a full member of God’s family?
Or are we still adding unspoken conditions—expectations that say, “You’re welcome here… once you change”?
The early Church had to face that tension.
They had to decide if grace was truly sufficient—if faith alone was enough to unite people who didn’t look alike, act alike, or come from the same background.
And we have to decide that too.
II. The Evidence: The Holy Spirit Confirms Faith (Acts 15:3–11)
After the disagreement in Antioch, Paul and Barnabas are sent to Jerusalem. This isn’t just a backroom debate anymore—it’s a church-wide moment of discernment. Leaders from all over gather to settle the question once and for all: What does it truly mean to belong to the people of God?
And when they get to Jerusalem, they don’t start with arguments or theories—they start with testimonies. Paul and Barnabas stand before the council and share story after story of how God has been working among the Gentiles. Lives being changed. Miracles happening. Communities being formed. Hearts transformed. They’re saying, in effect, “We didn’t make this up—God is already doing it.”
Then Peter stands up. And when Peter talks (remember the old EF Hutton commercials), everyone listens. Background, he was the one who saw the Holy Spirit fall on Cornelius—a Gentile—back in Acts 10. That moment had rocked his understanding of how God works. And now, he shares what he’s learned: “God, who knows the heart, showed that He accepted them by giving the Holy Spirit to them, just as He did to us. He made no distinction between us and them, for He purified their hearts by faith.”
That one phrase—“He made no distinction”—cuts through the noise. Peter is saying: “If the Holy Spirit has already embraced them, who are we to reject them?” God didn’t wait for them to get circumcised. He didn’t require them to become Jewish. He looked at their hearts, saw their faith, and poured out His Spirit.
In that moment, the evidence is clear: it’s not tradition that defines God’s people. It’s not external signs. It’s the inward reality of the Holy Spirit—the Spirit who convicts, transforms, and empowers.
And that matters for us today more than ever. Because if we’re going to be a church shaped by grace, we have to train our eyes to see as God sees—not evaluating who belongs based on appearance, behavior, or background, but by the fruit of the Spirit.
That’s what Peter was describing. He wasn’t saying Gentile Christians were perfect. He was saying God was already in them. The same Spirit that fell at Pentecost had fallen on them. And if God has already given them His Spirit, how dare we put obstacles in their way?
Here’s the danger: if we don’t recognize the Spirit’s work in people, we might resist the very people God is welcoming.
Peter even warns them: “Why are you trying to test God?” In other words, “If God’s already said yes, why are you saying maybe?”
Church, maybe the question isn’t, “Do they belong here?”
Maybe the real question is, “Has God already begun something in them?”
And when we see the Spirit at work, we don’t gatekeep—we rejoice.
Because if God is building His Church through faith, by grace, through the Spirit—then we’re not the bouncers. We’re the greeters.
III. The Wisdom: Tradition in Dialogue with Mission (Acts 15:12–18)
After Peter finishes speaking, the room falls silent. No one’s arguing now. Everyone is listening. Paul and Barnabas continue sharing stories—testimonies of God’s grace, the miraculous movement of the Spirit, and the unmistakable transformation in the lives of Gentile believers.
Then James speaks.
Now, James isn’t just any church leader. He’s the brother of Jesus, a deeply respected voice in the Jerusalem church, and someone who holds tradition dearly. If anyone might have leaned toward preserving the old ways, it was him. And yet, what he says next reveals remarkable Spirit-led wisdom.
He doesn’t dismiss the testimonies. He doesn’t argue the theology. Instead, he does what faithful leaders do—he turns to Scripture.
James quotes from the prophet Amos, saying:
“After this I will return and rebuild David’s fallen tent. Its ruins I will rebuild, and I will restore it, that the rest of humanity may seek the Lord, even all the Gentiles who bear my name.”
In other words, James says, “This isn’t new—it’s what God promised all along.” From the beginning, God’s plan was to draw all nations to Himself—not to erase Israel’s story, but to fulfill it in Jesus Christ.
That’s what makes this moment so powerful: James doesn’t reject tradition—he reinterprets it in light of the gospel and the mission of God. He honors the past, but he also sees where the Spirit is moving now. He’s not asking, “What are we losing?” He’s asking, “What is God doing?”
And that is wisdom.
Let’s be honest: sometimes change in the church feels threatening. It feels like we’re letting go of things that gave us structure and meaning. And sometimes, when new people come in—people who didn’t grow up in our tradition, who don’t know our songs, who ask hard questions—we’re tempted to pull back. We fear we’re losing something.
But maybe we’re not losing. Maybe we’re gaining. Maybe, like James, we’re being invited to see that what’s happening is not a departure from God’s plan, but the fulfillment of it.
In the Wesleyan tradition, we’ve always believed in the importance of Scripture, tradition, reason, and experience—but always with Scripture as the final authority. Tradition is not the ceiling; it’s the floor we stand on. It gives us perspective, but it doesn’t limit God. The Spirit didn’t stop speaking after the book of Acts. And He certainly didn’t stop calling people from “every tribe, tongue, and nation” into the family of God.
So here’s the challenge: are we holding onto tradition in a way that supports the mission of God—or in a way that hinders it?
James doesn’t tear down the past. He connects it to the present. And in doing so, he opens the door wide for the Church to move forward in faith and unity.
That’s the kind of church I want to be a part of: rooted in Scripture, shaped by grace, and always asking, “What is God doing, and how can we join Him?”
IV. The Outcome: A Community Formed by Grace and Holiness (Acts 15:19–21)
After all the testimonies… after Peter’s bold declaration… after James brings it home with Scripture… the Church makes a decision. And it’s not a half-measure.
James says, “It is my judgment that we should not make it difficult for the Gentiles who are turning to God.”
There it is. That’s the heartbeat of this whole moment. Don’t make it harder than God does. Don’t place unnecessary barriers in front of people whom God is already welcoming.
But James doesn’t stop there. He continues, suggesting that Gentile believers abstain from a few specific practices—things like food sacrificed to idols, sexual immorality, and the eating of blood.
Now, why bring those things up if salvation is by grace through faith? Are we circling back to legalism?
Not at all.
These weren’t requirements for salvation—they were invitations to love.
You see, the early Church was now a diverse family: Jews and Gentiles, old traditions and new believers, all worshiping together. And these practices James mentions were especially offensive to Jewish believers, many of whom still held deeply to their cultural boundaries.
So this was about unity. About living in such a way that honored the conscience of others and built the kind of community where grace wasn’t just a doorway—it was a lifestyle.
That’s holiness right there. Holiness isn’t just avoiding sin—it’s loving well. It’s living in a way that reflects the heart of Christ—not because you’re earning your place at the table, but because you know you’ve already been seated there by grace.
The Jerusalem Council teaches us that grace opens the door, and love sets the table.
Sometimes people think that a church built on grace will be chaotic or compromise too much. But that’s not what we see in Acts 15. We see grace with boundaries shaped by love. We see holiness not as a set of rules, but as a way of protecting unity and witness.
We’re not saved by our behavior—but because we are saved, our behavior should be transformed by love.
So what does that mean for us?
It means we stop asking, “What do they need to do to fit in here?” and start asking, “What can I do to make room for them?”
It means we lay down our preferences for the sake of unity.
It means we use our freedom not to flaunt our rights, but to build up our brothers and sisters.
That’s the kind of Church the world needs to see:
One where grace is real,
Where holiness is expressed through love,
And where everyone—no matter their background—can be made one through faith in Jesus Christ.
Because that’s what God is doing. He is forming a holy people—not by tradition, but by transformation. Not by sameness, but by the Spirit.
Conclusion: One Table, One Faith, One Lord
In Acts 15, the Church faced a defining moment. Would they require newcomers to conform to the old signs of belonging? Or would they trust that saving faith in Jesus, confirmed by the Holy Spirit and expressed through holy love, was enough?
They chose grace.
They chose unity.
They chose to believe that God really is building a new kind of community—not around ritual, not around tradition, not even around who got there first—but around the living presence of Christ among those who believe.
And we face that same moment, again and again.
When someone walks into our church who doesn’t look like us, vote like us, or think like us…
When God brings in people who are still rough around the edges…
When grace outruns our comfort zone…
We have to decide:
Will we make it difficult for those who are turning to God? Or will we make it clear—grace is real here, and you belong?
And not just with our words—but with our lives, our love, our open arms.
That’s what this table represents.
Because here, at the Table of the Lord, there is no “insider” and “outsider.”
There is no “us” and “them.”
There is only Jesus—broken for all, poured out for all, present with all who come in faith.
When we come to the Table, we remember:
It wasn’t circumcision that made us clean.
It wasn’t tradition that made us holy.
It wasn’t knowledge or background or performance that made us belong.
It was Christ.
His grace welcomed us.
His Spirit cleansed us.
And His love holds us together.
So as we prepare to receive communion this morning, let’s pause.
Let’s ask:
Have I been adding burdens where God brings freedom?
Have I withheld welcome where the Spirit was already working?
Have I forgotten the grace that saved me—and the love that binds us?
Let’s come to the Table not as perfect people, but as one people—made holy not by the law, but by the Lamb.
Communion Prayer:
Lord Jesus,
You welcomed us before we were ready.
You forgave us before we were worthy.
You gave us Your Spirit, and made us one.
This morning, we come to Your table—thankful, humbled, forgiven, and free.
Forgive us for the times we’ve added burdens You never placed.
Cleanse us again by faith.
And unite us again in Your love.
Make us one as You are one,
So that the world may believe.
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,
Amen.
Communion Liturgy –
(Immediately following your Communion Prayer:)
This table is not mine.
It does not belong to this church or this denomination.
It is the Lord’s Table.
And Christ invites all who love Him,
all who earnestly repent of their sin,
and all who long to live at peace with God and one another
to come and receive.
On the night our Lord was betrayed,
He took bread, gave thanks, broke it,
and gave it to His disciples, saying:
“Take and eat. This is My body, given for you.
Do this in remembrance of Me.”
In the same way, after supper,
He took the cup, gave thanks, and said:
“This cup is the new covenant in My blood,
poured out for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins.
As often as you drink it, do this in remembrance of Me.”
And so today, in remembrance of what Christ has done,
we come to this Table with gratitude,
receiving grace once again,
and renewing our commitment to live as one people,
united by faith, made holy by love,
and filled with the Spirit who binds us together.
Let us pray.
(Pause briefly)
Lord, pour out Your Spirit on us and on these gifts of bread and cup.
Make them be for us the body and blood of Christ,
that we may be for the world the body of Christ, redeemed and sent.
Shape us by Your grace.
Unite us in Your love.
And send us out to serve in the strength of Your Spirit.
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
(Distribute the elements. As each person receives, you may say:)
“The body of Christ, given for you.”
“The blood of Christ, shed for you.”
Let us pray.
Lord Jesus,
You have fed us at Your table with grace undeserved and love unending.
You have made us one—by Your Spirit, through Your sacrifice, in Your name.
Now send us into the world, not just as individuals,
but as a community shaped by grace and marked by holiness.
Let this bread strengthen our unity.
Let this cup ignite our compassion.
And let our lives bear witness to the One who makes all things new.
And now, together we pray:
We go with hope, because God goes before us.
We go with grace, because God is in us.
We go with certainty, because God is real.
And we go expecting great things, because our God accomplishes the impossible.
Here we are God, send us we pray. Amen.
