Who is Talking?
Notes
Transcript
Handout
Last week, we walked through the final verses of Acts 20. Paul met with the elders from Ephesus and gave them everything he had—his heart, his example, his warning, and his charge. He reminded them how he lived among them—with humility, tears, and perseverance. He didn’t shrink back from declaring the whole counsel of God.
We saw a man who wasn’t clinging to comfort or safety. Paul knew that hardship was waiting, but he was determined to finish his race and complete the task Jesus had given him—to testify to the gospel of God’s grace.
He poured himself out without holding back. Not for applause. Not for approval. But because he believed the mission was worth his life.
We were challenged to examine our own lives—are we living poured out, or are we holding back? Because the call hasn’t changed. And the mission isn’t finished.
And this week, I want to start by saying something pastors probably shouldn’t say…
I’m not going to preach long.
…and the whole room just tensed up like, “We’ve heard that one before.”
Listen—I know I’ve hurt you.
I’ve broken trust.
Some of y’all are still emotionally recovering from last week…
We were 40 minutes in… and still in verse 8.
Not because I was off-track—but because I was deep in the text.
I made one point… and then remembered a Hebrew word.
Then I told a Bible dad joke.
Then I opened a cross-reference that opened a rabbit trail that opened a theological black hole.
Next thing you know, we’re three layers deep and nobody’s blinked in ten minutes.
It wasn’t off-topic.
It was just… a lot.
You didn’t bring a notebook.
You brought a lunchbox.
Not because you’re hungry—because you’ve been through this before.
You’ve survived the wilderness of my closings.
You’ve seen things.
When I say “I’m closing,” y’all don’t grab your coats—you grab a snack and stretch like you’re settling in for extra innings.
Because my “closing” has more phases than a Marvel movie.
There’s a mid-credit scene.
An end-credit scene.
And then when you think it’s over…
I whisper, “One more thing God gave me this morning.”
At this point, my sermons don’t end. They evolve.
But hey… maybe today’s different.…Probably not.
Let’s get into the Word.
1 And when we had parted from them and set sail, we came by a straight course to Cos, and the next day to Rhodes, and from there to Patara. 2 And having found a ship crossing to Phoenicia, we went aboard and set sail. 3 When we had come in sight of Cyprus, leaving it on the left we sailed to Syria and landed at Tyre, for there the ship was to unload its cargo. 4 And having sought out the disciples, we stayed there for seven days. And through the Spirit they were telling Paul not to go on to Jerusalem. 5 When our days there were ended, we departed and went on our journey, and they all, with wives and children, accompanied us until we were outside the city. And kneeling down on the beach, we prayed 6 and said farewell to one another. Then we went on board the ship, and they returned home.
7 When we had finished the voyage from Tyre, we arrived at Ptolemais, and we greeted the brothers and stayed with them for one day. 8 On the next day we departed and came to Caesarea, and we entered the house of Philip the evangelist, who was one of the seven, and stayed with him. 9 He had four unmarried daughters, who prophesied. 10 While we were staying for many days, a prophet named Agabus came down from Judea. 11 And coming to us, he took Paul’s belt and bound his own feet and hands and said, “Thus says the Holy Spirit, ‘This is how the Jews at Jerusalem will bind the man who owns this belt and deliver him into the hands of the Gentiles.’ ” 12 When we heard this, we and the people there urged him not to go up to Jerusalem. 13 Then Paul answered, “What are you doing, weeping and breaking my heart? For I am ready not only to be imprisoned but even to die in Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus.” 14 And since he would not be persuaded, we ceased and said, “Let the will of the Lord be done.”
15 After these days we got ready and went up to Jerusalem.
I’ve titled my message this morning “Who is Talking?”
Pray
It’s Father’s Day…
And I probably shouldn’t do this, but I’m going to do this.
Ladies… we hear you.
You ever be mid-sentence, full monologue mode, breaking down your day, your emotions, your soul…
…and we’re just sitting there.
Silent.
Still.
You’re like, “Are you even listening?”
And in our heads, we’re like, “I heard every single word. I just haven’t blinked in ten minutes.”
But here’s what’s really happening:
We’re not ignoring you.
We’re in deep obedience.
Not to you.
To the game.
To whatever documentary about World War II we’ve seen six times.
To that YouTube video of a guy building a cabin in the woods with no tools and no explanation.
Ladies, it’s not that we don’t love you.
It’s just… that fourth down was critical.
The cabin guy just lit a fire with moss and a shoelace.
We’ll be emotionally available right after the next commercial break.
Now… let’s zoom out.
Because this isn’t just a “guy thing.”
This is a human thing.
We all do this.
We’re all obedient to something.
Some of us obey our feelings.
Some of us obey fear.
Some of us obey the approval of other people.
We don’t call it obedience—but that’s exactly what it is.
But let’s be clear:
Obedience isn’t about who’s loudest. It’s about who has your yes.
And in Acts 21, Paul hears a lot of voices.
The voice of emotion.
The voice of fear.
The voice of reason.
The voice of people who love him deeply and mean well.
But he doesn’t move based on emotion—he moves based on conviction.
Because Paul already decided: “I know who’s talking. And I know who I’m listening to.”
Now honestly, I really had to wrestle with this passage.
Like, really wrestle.
Because when I first read it, if I’m honest, it confused me.
There’s language in here that almost sounds like God doesn’t want Paul to go to Jerusalem.
You’ve got people warning him “through the Spirit.”
You’ve got prophetic words, heartfelt pleas, emotional scenes on the beach…
And at first glance, it looks like the Spirit of God is saying one thing, but Paul is doing another.
So I had to dig deep.
Because either Paul’s being stubborn…Or I was missing something about how God speaks—and how we’re supposed to respond when emotions, prophecy, and purpose collide.
So as I was studying Acts 21—trying to untangle the tension, the warnings, the emotion—I remembered something Paul said just one chapter earlier.
22 And now, behold, I am going to Jerusalem, constrained by the Spirit, not knowing what will happen to me there,
That word—“constrained”—in the Greek, it’s δεδεμένος (dedemenos), from the root word δέω (deō).
It literally means to bind, to tie up, to fasten with cords.
Paul is saying: “I’m not just going—I’m bound.”
The Spirit didn’t give him a gentle nudge.
The Spirit tied his soul to the mission.
He wasn’t led by comfort.
He wasn’t motivated by outcome.
He was bound by obedience.
Not convenience.
Not emotion.
Not approval.
Not even clarity.
Obedience.
Paul wasn’t moving because it made sense.
He wasn’t going to Jerusalem because it looked safe.
He wasn’t hoping for applause or expecting an easy outcome.
He was moving because heaven had his yes.
The Spirit had wrapped a cord around his heart—and Paul wasn’t free to walk away.
This wasn’t a suggestion he was following.
It was a requirement.
Because he was bound by obedience.
And hear me—there is no stronger freedom than being bound to the will of God.
Because when you’re bound by obedience:
Opinions don’t sway you.
Fear doesn’t paralyze you.
Comfort doesn’t seduce you.
You don’t wait for full clarity—you just take the next obedient step.
You don’t need control—you’ve already surrendered.
And that’s why Paul opens his letter to the Romans with this statement:
1 Paul, a servant of Christ Jesus, called to be an apostle, set apart for the gospel of God,
That word servant?
In the Greek, it’s δοῦλος (doulos)—it doesn’t mean helper, associate, or volunteer…It means slave.
“Paul, a slave of Christ Jesus…”
Not a slave to fear.
Not a slave to people’s opinions.
Not a slave to safety, success, or his own timeline.
A slave to Christ.
Bound.
Owned.
Surrendered completely.
Because when Jesus has your life, obedience isn’t optional—it’s your identity.
And maybe the reason some of us can’t hear clearly…is because we’re still trying to live like free agents in a Kingdom that demands surrender.
Paul didn’t need a sign.
He didn’t need a vote.
He didn’t need permission.
He was a slave to Christ. And that was enough.
And then in verse 23 he says, “The Holy Spirit testifies to me in every city that imprisonment and afflictions await me.”
So when we get to chapter 21—and people are weeping, begging, prophesying—it can look like Paul is being stubborn.
But he’s not being disobedient.
He’s being consistent.
Because Acts 21 isn’t a contradiction—it’s a confirmation.
The same Spirit that warned him in chapter 20 is preparing him again in chapter 21.
So when we read in verse 23—“The Holy Spirit testifies to me in every city that imprisonment and afflictions await me…”—Paul isn’t surprised. He isn’t shaken. He’s already surrendered.
So by the time we get to chapter 21, and people are weeping, begging, prophesying—not to go, not to suffer, not to face what’s coming—it can almost look like Paul’s being cold.
Or worse, disobedient.
But he’s not being disobedient.
He’s being consistent.
Because Acts 21 isn’t a contradiction—it’s a confirmation.
The same Spirit that warned him in chapter 20 is preparing him again in chapter 21.
This isn’t God trying to change Paul’s mind. It’s God confirming Paul’s calling.
And honestly?
This is where I feel the tension.
Because this is where a lot of us bail.
We hear “suffering,” “hardship,” “affliction”—and we start praying escape prayers.
We start rebuking the very road God called us to walk.
And that’s not just bad theology—it’s spiritual immaturity.
Jesus said it plainly and clearly in John 16:33
33 I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”
So hear me—trouble isn’t failure.
It’s formation.
Struggle isn’t a detour.
It’s discipleship.
And let’s not forget this:
The same Holy Spirit that rested on Jesus at His baptism—the one who split the heavens and said, “This is my beloved Son…”—was the same Spirit that led Him into the wilderness.
To be isolated.
To go hungry.
To be tested by the enemy.
The same Holy Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead in power—was the same Spirit that led Him to the cross in obedience.
The same Holy Spirit that anointed David in front of his brothers to be king—was the same Spirit that sustained him while he hid in caves, hunted like a criminal.
The same Holy Spirit that gave Stephen boldness to preach with fire—was the same Spirit that gave him peace as he knelt under a hail of stones, forgiving the ones who were killing him.
The same Holy Spirit that fell like fire in Acts 2—that gave them tongues, boldness, and power—was the same Spirit that carried them through prison cells, beatings, and martyrdom.
So don’t tell me the Spirit only shows up in the breakthrough.
Don’t tell me He only leads to mountaintops.
The presence of the Spirit doesn’t eliminate suffering. It empowers you to endure it.
the Spirit of God doesn’t just lead us to miracles—He leads us to maturity.
And maturity is forged in the fire.
In the wilderness.
In the moments we’d rather skip—but can’t afford to.
This is what Paul knew.
This is what the church forgot.
And this is what we’ve got to recover.
So let’s make this personal.
What do you do when God gives you clarity…
and the answer still hurts?
What do you do when the Spirit doesn’t lead you to a platform, but to a prison?
What do you do when obedience means sacrifice—and the people around you don’t understand?
Because this is what Paul teaches us:
Clarity doesn’t mean comfort.
Prophecy doesn’t always mean protection.
Sometimes it just means preparation.
Back in Acts 20:23, Paul said:
23 except that the Holy Spirit testifies to me in every city that imprisonment and afflictions await me.
But now in Acts 21, it gets even more vivid.
10 While we were staying for many days, a prophet named Agabus came down from Judea. 11 And coming to us, he took Paul’s belt and bound his own feet and hands and said, “Thus says the Holy Spirit, ‘This is how the Jews at Jerusalem will bind the man who owns this belt and deliver him into the hands of the Gentiles.’ ”
Agabus grabs Paul’s belt and ties up his own hands and feet.
And he says: “This is what will happen to the man who owns this belt.”
God makes it clear.
And it’s not pretty.
It’s almost like God is saying:
“You trusted Me when it was vague. Now here’s the confirmation. And yes—it’s going to cost you.”
But here’s the part that gets me.
12 When we heard this, we and the people there urged him not to go up to Jerusalem. 13 Then Paul answered, “What are you doing, weeping and breaking my heart? For I am ready not only to be imprisoned but even to die in Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus.”
Don’t miss that.
Paul isn’t cold.
He says, “You’re breaking my heart.”
He feels the weight.
He hears the concern.
He sees their fear…But he’s already decided.
“I’m ready.”
Not because it’s easy.
Not because it’s safe.
But because he knows who’s talking.
And maybe that’s the word for us today.
Maybe God is showing you what’s ahead—not to scare you, but to strengthen you.
To say: “Yes, this next season will cost you…but I’m with you in it. So trust Me enough to go.”
So I’ll ask you what I’ve been asking myself all week:
Who is talking?
And who are you listening to?
Because here’s the real question…Who needs to stop talking?
Because let’s be honest—we’ve got a lot of voices in our heads:
The voice of fear: “What if it’s too hard?”
The voice of comfort: “You don’t have to go through that.”
The voice of people-pleasing: “What will they think?”
The voice of past pain: “You’ve been hurt before, don’t risk it again.”
And then—somewhere beneath all that noise—is the still, small voice of the Spirit saying: “Go.”
Paul didn’t ignore the people.
He just didn’t let them have the final word.
He silenced every voice that didn’t sound like Jesus.
And maybe that’s your next step too.
To say:
“Fear, you don’t get to lead.
Comfort, you don’t call the shots.
Opinion, I love you—but I don’t serve you.”
Because:
as long as other voices have your ear, God won’t have your obedience.
And you cannot follow Jesus fully while entertaining every other voice.
Pray
