Dear Friend,
“So Barnabas went to Tarsus to look for Saul” (Acts 11:25).
That’s the whole verse. Luke, who wrote the book of Acts, doesn’t tell us how long the trip took, what it cost, or how many doors Barnabas knocked on before he found the right one. He simply tells us that Barnabas went looking.
It’s an easy verse to read right past. But a great deal of what follows in the book of Acts turns on it.
If the name Saul is new to you, you likely know him by another name. Saul is the apostle Paul, who wrote much of the New Testament. Saul was his Hebrew name, and Paul was the Roman name he also went by. The Bible uses both (Acts 13:9).
To see why it matters, you need to know who these two men were, and how Saul ended up in Tarsus in the first place.
Barnabas was a respected member of the first church in Jerusalem, in the years right after Jesus rose from the dead. Saul had been one of that church’s fiercest enemies. Then, on the road to the city of Damascus, Saul met the risen Jesus, and his life turned around (Acts 9:1–19). Not long afterward, he went to Jerusalem and tried to join the disciples. “And they were all afraid of him, for they did not believe that he was a disciple.” You can hardly blame them. Only a short time earlier, Saul had been dragging believers off to prison (Acts 8:3). “But Barnabas took him and brought him to the apostles,” and told them what the Lord had done (Acts 9:26–27).
That was the first time Barnabas stood up for Saul. It didn’t settle things for long. Saul preached so boldly that some men set out to kill him, so the believers “brought him down to Caesarea and sent him off to Tarsus” (Acts 9:28–30). Tarsus was his hometown, a city on the southern coast of what is now Turkey, far to the north of Jerusalem.
Then the story moves on without him. Several chapters go by. The apostle Peter, one of Jesus’ twelve disciples, travels and preaches. A Roman army officer named Cornelius and his household come to faith. The church keeps growing. Saul isn’t mentioned again until Barnabas goes to find him.
Even so, Saul was busy in those years. He later wrote that he “went into the regions of Syria and Cilicia,” and that the churches back in Judea kept hearing that their old persecutor “is now preaching the faith he once tried to destroy” (Galatians 1:21–24). Tarsus was in Cilicia. He was serving where he was.
And it wasn’t a short wait. Scripture doesn’t give us exact dates, but most estimates put Saul in Tarsus and the surrounding region for somewhere between six and ten years. Counting from that day on the road to Damascus, it was close to a decade before the ministry we know him for began. That’s a long time to wait for God’s next assignment.
He was also far from the place where the church was growing fastest, and the people who had once been afraid of him had sent him home. Someone had to remember he was there.
Meanwhile, something remarkable was happening in Antioch, one of the largest cities in the Roman Empire, north of Jerusalem. Believers there had begun telling Gentiles, people who weren’t Jewish, about Jesus, and “a great number who believed turned to the Lord.” The church in Jerusalem sent Barnabas to see what was going on. “When he came and saw the grace of God, he was glad, and he exhorted them all to remain faithful to the Lord with steadfast purpose, for he was a good man, full of the Holy Spirit and of faith. And a great many people were added to the Lord” (Acts 11:21–24).
The work had grown bigger than one man could handle. Barnabas could have sent word back to Jerusalem and asked them to find someone. Instead, he thought of the man the church had sent away, and he went to get him himself.
“And when he had found him, he brought him to Antioch. For a whole year they met with the church and taught a great many people. And in Antioch the disciples were first called Christians” (Acts 11:26).
A short time later, the Holy Spirit set apart “Barnabas and Saul” from that same church in Antioch and sent them out on the first of their journeys to carry the good news about Jesus to other cities and lands (Acts 13:1–3). From that point on, the book of Acts calls him Paul, the name most of the world knows him by today.
We’ve all spent some time in Tarsus.
By Tarsus, I mean the place you end up when life moves on without you. It can happen at any age. You move to a new town and sit in a new church for weeks before anyone learns your name. You spend years at home with small children, or caring for an aging parent, and the rest of the world seems to carry on without you. You’re passed over for the job, or a role you filled for years goes to someone else. An illness keeps you home. You retire. You make a mistake, and people keep their distance long after you’ve made it right. After a funeral, the cards and casseroles stop, and the phone stops ringing.
The circumstances are different, but the feeling is the same. Things are happening somewhere, and you’re not part of them. You start to wonder whether you’re still of any use, and whether anyone remembers you’re there.
You may still be serving where you are, the way Saul was. You pray for people, you help where you can, and you show up when you’re able. That counts for more than you know.
If you are in Tarsus right now, being out of sight doesn’t mean you have been forgotten by God, and it doesn’t mean He is finished with you. Nobody in Jerusalem would have guessed that the man they had sent home to Tarsus would one day write much of the New Testament. God was at work in Saul’s years there, and He can be at work in yours.
Now let me turn the question around.
Who is in Tarsus that I know about?
Most of us are fairly good at welcoming the people who come to us. We say, “My door is always open,” and we mean it. Barnabas went further than an open door. He noticed who was missing, and then he took the trip.
It might be the man who used to sit three rows from the front and hasn’t been back since his surgery. It might be the widow who stopped coming after her husband died, because walking in alone was more than she could bear. It might be a friend who moved away, or a younger believer who stumbled and has been keeping his distance ever since. It might be someone who used to lead and now has nothing to lead.
Notice one more thing about Barnabas. He went to Tarsus with a purpose. There was work waiting in Antioch, and he wanted Saul in it. Sometimes the most encouraging thing you can say to a person is “We need you.”
The New Testament letter to the Hebrews puts it this way: “And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near” (Hebrews 10:24–25). “Consider” means giving it real thought. Encouragement like that doesn’t happen by accident. Someone has to think about who is missing.
Most of us won’t need to travel to another city. Going looking might mean a phone call, a card, a ride to church, or a cup of coffee on someone’s back porch. It might mean asking a person who has been set aside to help with something specific, because you really could use their help.
There is one more thing worth seeing in this verse.
Before Barnabas ever went looking for Saul, Someone had already come looking for both of them.
When Jesus passed through the town of Jericho, a tax collector named Zacchaeus climbed a sycamore tree to get a look at Him. Tax collectors worked for the Roman occupiers and were known for cheating their own people, so the crowd thought of Zacchaeus as a man to keep away from. Jesus stopped under the tree, looked up, called him by name, and invited Himself to his house. Then He explained why: “For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost” (Luke 19:1–10).
He came looking for you, too. And on the night before He was crucified, He promised His disciples that He would send the Holy Spirit to be with them and would not leave them on their own: “I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Helper, to be with you forever.… I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you” (John 14:16–18).
The apostles gave Joseph of Cyprus the nickname Barnabas, which means “son of encouragement” (Acts 4:36–37). The name fit him. But every good thing Barnabas did for Saul was a small picture of what God has already done for us. He sought us out when we were far off. He came alongside us. He gave us work to do in His kingdom.
So if you are in Tarsus, take heart. You are not forgotten, and you have not outlived your usefulness to God. The Lord knows exactly where you are.
And if someone in your life is in Tarsus, perhaps this is the week to go looking.
This one is personal, so I won’t ask you to tell your story in the comments. Instead, here are two things I’d ask you to do this week.
First, think of someone who came looking for you once. If they’re still living, thank them. A note or a phone call will do.
Second, write down the name of one person you know who is in Tarsus. Pray for that person by name, and then go looking.
If you’d like to tell me about either one, or if you’re in Tarsus yourself and would like me to pray for you, send me a direct message on Substack. It stays between us.
Grace & Peace,
Pastor Neal Letteney <><
The Pastor’s Hearth
For Your Reflection
These are for you to think through on your own, or to talk over with a friend, your spouse, or your small group.
When have I been in a “Tarsus” season, and who came looking for me? Have I ever thanked them?
Is there any part of my life where I’ve assumed God is finished with me?
Who has gone missing from my life, my church, or my circle of friends, and what has kept me from going to look for them?
Is there someone I could invite to help with something, and not only visit?
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That's really Great, brah! Many takeaways! I feel like I've been in Tarsus -- pretty much all my life, maybe trying to be a Paul; i.e., another Dr. John Phillips! Maybe He wants me to learn to be a "Barnabus" by definition first. I love you, my brother! BTW ... Happy Birthday 🎂 manana!