The Spirit of Broken Barriers

Acts 10:1-48

Intro:

This past week, I was listening to a podcast produced by a local woman who grew up in a cult known as the Worldwide Church of God. Now, to be fair, the Worldwide Church of God seems to have undergone dramatic change in the past thirty or so years, and from what I can tell, they have mostly rejected the heretical views held by the movement’s founder.

But when Herbert Armstrong gained notoriety through the explosion of this movement in the 1920s, this was not the case. Ole Herbie denied the trinitarian nature of God and insisted that salvation could only be attained through faith, plus obedience to the ordinances of God, baptism and tithing were requirements not for obedience, but salvation, as were many other works. And like all cult leaders, he insisted that only his church was the true church, and in that way, salvation depended on agreeing with him on everything—and, of course, sending him a check each month (Creed Quote).

Additionally, like every good cult leader, he predicted the end of the world in 1975… which, obviously, didn’t work out.

Listening to this podcast and reading Acts 10 got me thinking about how dangerous it can be when self righteousness is intertwined with the gospel, and power is added. I’m talking about what happens when you take a heart of flesh and give it influence, authority, and a spiritual platform.

When God calls someone, He’s calling them to serve—to humble themselves, to die to self, and to carry His character into the world. But evil quickly offers a more appealing alternative:

An opportunity to be admired

To have Power over people’s lives

The truth is, if you take the basic truths of the gospel—that we are chosen by God, made heirs to the kingdom, and given spiritual power the world can’t understand—and you mix those truths with the enemy’s offer of dominion, and the belief that your salvation was something you earned through anything other than pure grace, then what results may look spiritual, sound biblical, and even attract a crowd, but it lacks one ounce of the Spirit of God.

One of the hard realities in church history is that narcissists are often drawn to spiritual influence—and they’re often good at gaining it. When someone with a heart bent toward self-importance begins to believe that their platform is proof of God’s favor, it’s a recipe for destroying lives. And this doesn’t just happen in cults; it happens in churches of every size and denomination. When churches grow desperate for success or validation, they often overlook the quiet call to humility in exchange for visible results.

And that’s what makes Acts 10 so striking. In a world filled with men grasping for control and recognition, God chooses a Roman officer named Cornelius—a man of power and authority, yet humble, prayerful, and generous—to be the doorway through which the gospel breaks into the Gentile world.

Acts 10:1–2 ESV

At Caesarea there was a man named Cornelius, a centurion of what was known as the Italian Cohort, a devout man who feared God with all his household, gave alms generously to the people, and prayed continually to God.

Cornelius was a man who held a position of considerable influence and respect in his community. As a centurion in the Italian Cohort, he was a mid-ranking officer in the Roman army, commanding roughly a hundred soldiers. In Roman society, centurions were regarded as disciplined, capable, and authoritative—men whose decisions carried weight and whose lives reflected status and honor. Stationed in Caesarea, the administrative and political hub of Judea, Cornelius lived at the intersection of power and culture, surrounded by the reach of the Roman Empire.

Yet despite his worldly authority, Cornelius was not defined by ambition, pride, or the desire for fame. Acts tells us he was a:

devout man who feared God with all his household,

gave alms generously to the people,

and prayed continually to God (Acts 10:2).

But it’s important to note that what Cornelius was seeking, he had not yet found. Cornelius was a Gentile—a man drawn to the God of Israel, but still standing outside the covenant people of God.

To be a Gentile in that day meant you were excluded from temple worship, barred from offering sacrifices, and constantly reminded that you did not belong among God’s chosen nation. The promises given to Abraham, the law revealed through Moses, the presence of God that dwelt among His people—all of that was closed off to you. You could admire it from afar, but you could not enter in.

And yet, Cornelius longed for the God who seemed beyond his reach. He prayed to the God of Israel even though the system told him he wasn’t welcome in His house. He gave generously to the poor, even though no priest would call him clean. He led his family in devotion, and prayer for the Savior they did not yet know.

For Cornelius feared God, but he did not yet know Him through Christ. He lived on the edge of revelation—his heart turned toward God, but still waiting for grace to break through the wall that divided Jew from Gentile, but that was about to change, for:

Acts 10:3–8 ESV

About the ninth hour of the day he saw clearly in a vision an angel of God come in and say to him, “Cornelius.” And he stared at him in terror and said, “What is it, Lord?” And he said to him, “Your prayers and your alms have ascended as a memorial before God. And now send men to Joppa and bring one Simon who is called Peter. He is lodging with one Simon, a tanner, whose house is by the sea.” When the angel who spoke to him had departed, he called two of his servants and a devout soldier from among those who attended him, and having related everything to them, he sent them to Joppa.

God had heard the prayers of this devout man who sought him earnestly. And more than that, though he had been barred from sacrificing in the temple, God saw his efforts and it pleased Him, because they were humble and genuine. All of his prayers, and his charity, none of it was sufficient to save, but…his humility, and awareness of need, postured him to receive the grace for which he had prayed, and he is about to receive it in a dramatic fashion.

Around three in the afternoon, during the Jewish hour of prayer, Cornelius receives a vision from God—a startling and vivid experience where an angel of the Lord calls him by name.

The first thing we notice is that God initiates this moment. Cornelius is sincere and devout, but he does not reach God through moral effort or religious discipline; instead, God graciously comes to him.

And Cornelius’s fear and reverence in verse 4 show us that this isn’t a casual experience—it’s an encounter with holiness.

Yet the angel’s message is one of reassurance: “Your prayers and gifts to the poor have come up as a memorial offering before God.”

This doesn’t mean Cornelius earned God’s favor, but that his sincerity and faithfulness have drawn God’s attention. God remembers those who seek Him, even when they don’t yet fully know Him.

The instructions that follow are simple but deeply significant: Cornelius is told to send men to Joppa to summon Simon Peter. This is a key turning point in redemptive history. Up to this point, the gospel has primarily moved within Jewish circles—but here, God is preparing to break through ethnic and cultural boundaries. Cornelius doesn’t question the command or delay in obedience; he responds immediately and faithfully, sending trusted servants and a devout soldier to carry out the mission.

These verses remind us that genuine faith is marked not just by reverence but by responsive obedience. Cornelius doesn’t yet understand all that God is doing, but he acts on what he knows. God often works that way—He gives the next step, not the whole plan. And as Cornelius obeys, God sets in motion a divine meeting that will change the course of the early church and open the door of salvation to the Gentiles.

Acts 10:9–33 ESV

The next day, as they were on their journey and approaching the city, Peter went up on the housetop about the sixth hour to pray. And he became hungry and wanted something to eat, but while they were preparing it, he fell into a trance and saw the heavens opened and something like a great sheet descending, being let down by its four corners upon the earth. In it were all kinds of animals and reptiles and birds of the air. And there came a voice to him: “Rise, Peter; kill and eat.” But Peter said, “By no means, Lord; for I have never eaten anything that is common or unclean.” And the voice came to him again a second time, “What God has made clean, do not call common.” This happened three times, and the thing was taken up at once to heaven. Now while Peter was inwardly perplexed as to what the vision that he had seen might mean, behold, the men who were sent by Cornelius, having made inquiry for Simon’s house, stood at the gate and called out to ask whether Simon who was called Peter was lodging there. And while Peter was pondering the vision, the Spirit said to him, “Behold, three men are looking for you. Rise and go down and accompany them without hesitation, for I have sent them.” And Peter went down to the men and said, “I am the one you are looking for. What is the reason for your coming?” And they said, “Cornelius, a centurion, an upright and God-fearing man, who is well spoken of by the whole Jewish nation, was directed by a holy angel to send for you to come to his house and to hear what you have to say.” So he invited them in to be his guests. The next day he rose and went away with them, and some of the brothers from Joppa accompanied him. And on the following day they entered Caesarea. Cornelius was expecting them and had called together his relatives and close friends. When Peter entered, Cornelius met him and fell down at his feet and worshiped him. But Peter lifted him up, saying, “Stand up; I too am a man.” And as he talked with him, he went in and found many persons gathered. And he said to them, “You yourselves know how unlawful it is for a Jew to associate with or to visit anyone of another nation, but God has shown me that I should not call any person common or unclean. So when I was sent for, I came without objection. I ask then why you sent for me.” And Cornelius said, “Four days ago, about this hour, I was praying in my house at the ninth hour, and behold, a man stood before me in bright clothing and said, ‘Cornelius, your prayer has been heard and your alms have been remembered before God. Send therefore to Joppa and ask for Simon who is called Peter. He is lodging in the house of Simon, a tanner, by the sea.’ So I sent for you at once, and you have been kind enough to come. Now therefore we are all here in the presence of God to hear all that you have been commanded by the Lord.”

So let’s pause and take in what we just read.

Cornelius, a Gentile Roman officer—an outsider by every religious standard—has a vision from God. An angel tells him that his prayers and generosity have come up before God as a memorial offering, and that he must send for a man named Peter, who’s staying in Joppa.

Meanwhile, Peter—this Jewish apostle who still carries the assumptions and boundaries of his upbringing—is on a rooftop praying. He becomes hungry, and God gives him a vision: a sheet descending from heaven filled with three kinds of creatures—animals, reptiles, and birds (Genesis 6:20 and Leviticus 11, divides creation into those that walk, crawl, and fly). It’s the full scope of creation, clean and unclean alike, and God tells him, “Rise, Peter; kill and eat.” But Peter refuses, insisting he has never eaten anything impure. Then comes the voice that will reshape the world: “What God has made clean, do not call common.”

Just as Peter is puzzling over this vision, three men arrive at his door—messengers sent by Cornelius. The parallel isn’t accidental. God is tying the two scenes together—three categories of creatures in the vision, three Gentile men at the door—showing Peter in living form what the vision meant. The unclean that he once kept separate are now the very people God is calling him to embrace.

So Peter goes. He crosses the threshold into a Gentile home—something a devout Jew would never do—and finds Cornelius waiting, surrounded by his family and friends, eager to hear whatever God has commanded.

It’s a breathtaking moment: two visions, two men from two worlds, brought together by one Spirit. The walls of culture, religion, and ethnicity that had stood for centuries are beginning to crumble. The same God who declared all creatures clean is now declaring all people clean through Christ.

This is the moment where the gospel steps fully into the Gentile world—and where God begins to make one family out of what once were two.

Now, some read this story and assume that Cornelius was already saved when he receives his vision from God, for the verse tells us that he was devout and feared God. But scripture is clear on this point, for in Acts 11, when the Jews question Peter about why he had gone to to this gentile’s home, Luke records Peter recounting his story in:

Acts 11:13–14 ESV

And he told us how he had seen the angel stand in his house and say, ‘Send to Joppa and bring Simon who is called Peter; he will declare to you a message by which you will be saved, you and all your household.’

Cornelius was a devout man, a prayerful man, and by every standard of the world, a good guy. But, he was nonetheless a man in need of rescue, leading a family that was in the same boat. His good works did not offset his sin, and his prayers were noble, but they required a response, and so God sends Peter with a message, a message for Cornelius, his household, the gentile nation, and you and I today:

Acts 10:34–43 ESV

So Peter opened his mouth and said: “Truly I understand that God shows no partiality, but in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him. As for the word that he sent to Israel, preaching good news of peace through Jesus Christ (he is Lord of all), you yourselves know what happened throughout all Judea, beginning from Galilee after the baptism that John proclaimed: how God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with power. He went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil, for God was with him. And we are witnesses of all that he did both in the country of the Jews and in Jerusalem. They put him to death by hanging him on a tree, but God raised him on the third day and made him to appear, not to all the people but to us who had been chosen by God as witnesses, who ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead. And he commanded us to preach to the people and to testify that he is the one appointed by God to be judge of the living and the dead. To him all the prophets bear witness that everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name.”

Now that we’ve read verses 34 through 43, let’s pause and see what God is showing us about the gospel. There are several key truths here that we can take straight into our lives.

First, God shows no partiality. Look at verses 34 and 35: Peter says, “Truly I understand that God shows no partiality, but in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him.” This is revolutionary. God’s favor isn’t reserved for the rich, the famous, the powerful, or even a particular ethnicity. He looks at the heart. And that means the gospel is for everyone—Jew and Gentile alike. It also means that our access to God and His promises doesn’t come from what we have, where we come from, or what we’ve done—it’s a gift for all who fear Him and seek Him.

Second, Jesus is Lord of all. Verse 36 says, “He went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil, for God was with him.” Jesus’s work isn’t limited to a certain group of people. His lordship extends over all creation. And the life He calls us to is one of trust and obedience, knowing that the One who rules the universe is good, powerful, and actively working in the world.

Third, Jesus’s death and resurrection changed everything. Verses 37 through 40 remind us that Jesus was put to death according to God’s plan, but that God raised Him on the third day. This isn’t just history—it’s the heart of our salvation. Our sins are forgiven, not because of what we can do, not because of rituals or effort, but because of His death and resurrection. Jesus conquered sin and death, and that victory is available to all who believe.

Finally, Jesus is the one appointed by God to judge and save. Verses 42 and 43 tell us that God commanded all people to repent and believe in Jesus, and that everyone who trusts Him receives forgiveness of sins. The gospel is an invitation—to turn from self-reliance and trust fully in Christ. Forgiveness, new life, and the work of the Spirit are available to anyone who believes, no matter their background, status, or past mistakes.

Cornelius’s story shows us something incredible: the gospel crosses barriers—cultural, social, and religious. God’s offer of salvation is personal, universal, and transformative. It doesn’t matter where you’ve been or what walls have kept you out. Faith isn’t about heritage or proximity to God’s people; it’s about trusting Jesus Christ and responding in obedience.

Acts 10:44–48 ESV

While Peter was still saying these things, the Holy Spirit fell on all who heard the word. And the believers from among the circumcised who had come with Peter were amazed, because the gift of the Holy Spirit was poured out even on the Gentiles. For they were hearing them speaking in tongues and extolling God. Then Peter declared, “Can anyone withhold water for baptizing these people, who have received the Holy Spirit just as we have?” And he commanded them to be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ. Then they asked him to remain for some days.

This is revolutionary. God is showing that His Spirit does not respect human boundaries. The walls of ethnicity, culture, and religious tradition that had separated Jew from Gentile are torn down in an instant. Salvation and the Spirit’s power are not limited by what the world says, nor by what tradition has enforced. Cornelius and his household were fully included—not because they were Jewish, not because of any ritual, not because of status—but because God’s Spirit moves where He wills, crossing the barriers we thought were permanent.

Verse 45 makes this even clearer: the Jewish believers who came with Peter were astonished that the gift of the Spirit had been poured out on the Gentiles. They realized that God was rewriting the rules—they could no longer define who was “in” or “out” based on human categories.

Then, Peter commands that Cornelius and his household be baptized in water. This is a public recognition of what the Spirit had already done—faith and inclusion cannot be earned; they are a gift of God. Baptism doesn’t give the Spirit, but it celebrates the work God has already accomplished.

Here’s the assurance for us today:

The same Spirit that broke down the barriers between Jew and Gentile is still at work in our church. He breaks down walls of division—walls of race, class, background, politics, or past sin. He empowers us to see one another as members of one family under Christ. And the Spirit doesn’t just stop at acceptance; He equips us to love, serve, and witness boldly, even across barriers we would rather maintain.

Church, the call is clear: let us not build walls where the Spirit is breaking them down. Let us welcome those on the margins, serve those the world excludes, love those who have hurts us, and live willing to step into spaces where God is moving in unexpected ways.

Cornelius’s household reminds us that God’s Spirit refuses to be contained by our assumptions, our anger, our prejudices or our judgements, and He is calling His people to follow where He leads.

I want to close this morning with a short story:

In my early 20s, after a few years as a Youth Pastor, I was offered my first opportunity to serve as a preaching pastor at a little country church in the middle of a cornfield in eastern Illinois. The church had been through some hard decades, and I was hopeful that a fresh infusion of the gospel—the very gospel I was just learning to articulate—could breathe new life into this small congregation.

A few months in, we were beginning to see some momentum. Young families were starting to visit, many of whom had never set foot in a church before. And then, one morning, a local man in his late 50s—someone I’d never met—asked me out to breakfast.

It turned out he was a youth leader at another church, frustrated with his pastor, and he had an idea: he wanted to bring 20 youth and their families to our church. Now, I’ll admit—I was tempted. Our youth program was nonexistent, our young family attendance was small, and here was what seemed like an instant solution. I even caught myself imagining how good that would look on my resume.

But then he said something that made my stomach drop: “The only thing I ask is that I don’t hear any salvation-through-faith-alone nonsense.”

As he talked more, it became painfully clear. In his mind, salvation was earned by works. Grace was irrelevant. Heaven was something you were due because you were a good person. And he wasn’t going to accept anything else.

I left that breakfast unsettled, knowing I hadn’t been bold enough to call him out in the moment. But God used that encounter to convict me. The next Sunday, sure enough, he arrived at the church with a group of people he had rallied. And that Sunday, I preached the gospel as clearly as I could: salvation by grace alone, through faith alone, in Christ alone.

The service ended, and he stormed out with his posse. But the story didn’t end there. Within two weeks, each of our deacons received a copy of a local newspaper with a scathing letter—sent anonymously—that accused me of being a false pastor, teaching a “dangerous” gospel of grace alone, and even said I hadn’t conducted a proper altar call.

Needless to say, I learned something important that day: not all growth is good growth.

But here’s the deeper lesson: God’s Spirit doesn’t work according to human expectations or shortcuts. He doesn’t bow to pressure, compromise, or the lure of prestige. Just as He fell on Cornelius and his household, crossing barriers that human tradition had built, He calls us to faithful obedience, even when it’s unpopular or risky. The Spirit doesn’t take shortcuts; He breaks barriers and brings transformation that only He can accomplish.

And that’s the takeaway for us today: the same Spirit that fell on Cornelius is at work in our church. He is breaking down walls, challenging us to stay faithful, and calling us to trust Him above all else—even when it costs us comfort, popularity, or easy success.

So, as we leave today, let us remember: God’s power to break down barriers is still active. Our calling is to preach, live, and love in a way that opens the door for His Spirit to move—faithfully, boldly, and without compromise.