The Basket and the Blade: The Cost of Following Jesus Text: Acts 9:23-25
Introduction: No Neutral Ground
We live in an age that wants a domesticated gospel. It wants a Jesus who is a life coach, a spiritual guru, a celestial therapist who helps us become the best version of ourselves. This modern, effeminate Jesus never makes demands, never offends, and certainly never gets anyone into trouble. He is a Jesus made in our own image, a harmless deity for a harmless people. But the Jesus of the Scriptures is nothing of the sort. The Lion of the tribe of Judah is not a tame lion.
When the Lord Jesus Christ saves a man, He does not merely rearrange the furniture in his life. He demolishes the house and builds a new one. He does not simply give him a new set of rules; He gives him a new life, a new identity, and, consequently, a new set of enemies. Conversion is not an addition to your life; it is a declaration of war on your old one. It is a transfer of allegiance from the kingdom of darkness to the kingdom of God's beloved Son. And you must understand, the kingdom of darkness does not take desertions lightly.
The story of Saul of Tarsus is a thunderclap in the halls of human history. Here was a man who was the tip of the spear in the persecution of the early church. He was a man of zeal, of conviction, of authority, breathing out threats and slaughter against the disciples of the Lord. And then, on the road to Damascus, the risen Christ knocked him off his high horse, blinded him with glory, and called him into service. It was a radical, sovereign, and total conquest.
But what happens next is just as instructive. What is the immediate fruit of this glorious conversion? Is it a book tour? A series of pleasant speaking engagements? A comfortable position in the Jerusalem church? No. The immediate fruit is a death plot. The hunter becomes the hunted. The persecutor becomes the persecuted. This is the normal Christian life. If you have been a Christian for any length of time and have never once been opposed, never once been slandered, never once been conspired against for your faith, then you have every reason to examine whether you have been converted to the Christ of the Bible or to the milquetoast mascot of American civil religion.
The Text
And when many days had elapsed, the Jews plotted together to put him to death, but their plot became known to Saul. They were also watching the gates day and night so that they might put him to death; but his disciples took him by night and let him down through the wall, lowering him in a large basket.
(Acts 9:23-25 LSB)
The Inevitable Backlash (v. 23)
We begin with the immediate aftermath of Saul's newfound zeal.
"And when many days had elapsed, the Jews plotted together to put him to death," (Acts 9:23)
The phrase "many days" is deceptively simple. Paul tells us in Galatians that this period included a trip to Arabia and back, likely spanning up to three years (Gal. 1:17-18). For three years, Saul, the former champion of Pharisaical Judaism, had been in Damascus, preaching with increasing power that Jesus is the Son of God, confounding the very people he once represented. He was not making polite suggestions; he was demonstrating from the Scriptures that the man they had rejected was in fact their Messiah and King.
Notice the reaction. It is not a debate. It is not a scholarly refutation. It is a plot. "The Jews plotted together to put him to death." This is what happens when the Word of God strikes a hardened heart. When light shines on those who love the darkness, they do not rejoice; they recoil and seek to extinguish the light. The gospel is a declaration of peace to those who will repent, but it is a declaration of war to those who will not. It divides father from son, mother from daughter. It forces a choice. And those who reject the King will always, eventually, seek to kill His ambassadors.
Who were these plotters? They were Saul's former colleagues. His friends. The men who had given him the letters of authority to persecute the church. The greatest earthly opposition to the gospel has always come from the religious establishment. It was not the pagans who crucified Jesus; it was the men who had memorized the Torah. It was not the secularists who first sought to kill Saul; it was his own kinsmen according to the flesh. A false religion is never more dangerous than when it is confronted by the true one.
This is a foundational lesson for every new convert. When you are born again, you are not just gaining a new family in the church; you are gaining a new set of adversaries in the world. The world, the flesh, and the devil do not simply shrug their shoulders when a soul is plucked from their grasp. They get angry. They conspire. And their first line of attack is often through those who were closest to you in your old life.
The Impotent Siege (v. 24)
The plot intensifies, but it runs headlong into the providence of God.
"but their plot became known to Saul. They were also watching the gates day and night so that they might put him to death;" (Acts 9:24 LSB)
The enemies of God are cunning, but they are not omniscient. They are powerful, but they are not sovereign. They plot in secret, but God sees in secret, and He reveals what needs to be revealed. "Their plot became known to Saul." How? The text doesn't say. Perhaps a sympathetic soul overheard the whispers. Perhaps it was a direct revelation from God. The mechanism is secondary to the point: God is never caught by surprise. The frantic machinations of men are all held within the calm, unshakeable counsel of His will.
Their strategy was thorough. "They were also watching the gates day and night." Damascus was a walled city. The gates were the only way in or out. Their plan was to create a kill box. They had the cooperation of the local authorities, the governor under King Aretas (2 Cor. 11:32). From a human perspective, Saul was trapped. The entire machinery of the city's security was bent on his destruction. It was a total lockdown.
This is the world's way of warfare. It relies on walls, gates, guards, and overwhelming force. It believes that if it can control the physical space, it can control the outcome. But the kingdom of God operates on a different plane. The world thinks in terms of gates and walls; God thinks in terms of baskets and ropes. The world trusts in its surveillance and its swords; God delights in using the weak and foolish things of the world to shame the strong.
This siege was not just against Saul; it was against the gospel. It was an attempt by the prince of this world to snuff out the man who would become the greatest missionary in history. But when men set their will against the will of God, they are like children building a sandcastle against the incoming tide. Their efforts are earnest, their plans seem formidable, but the outcome is never in doubt.
The Inglorious Escape (v. 25)
The divine deliverance comes, but not in the way a Hollywood screenwriter would write it.
"but his disciples took him by night and let him down through the wall, lowering him in a large basket." (Acts 9:25 LSB)
Here we see the glorious absurdity of God's providence. The enemies have the gates. They have the guards. They have the political power. What does God have? He has a few of Saul's new disciples, a rope, and a large basket. This is not a story of a heroic charge through the gates, swords flashing. It is not a story of an angelic visitor striking the guards blind. It is a story of a clandestine, undignified, and utterly humiliating escape.
Notice who helps him: "his disciples." Just a short time before, Saul was the one making disciples for the Pharisees. Now, in the school of Christ, he has his own. This is a beautiful picture of the corporate nature of the body of Christ. God did not airlift Saul out of the city. He used the hands and feet of the very people Saul had come to arrest. These new believers, at great risk to themselves, took responsibility for their new brother. This is the church in action. We are to bear one another's burdens, to protect one another, to be the instruments of God's deliverance for each other.
And the method is wonderfully humbling. Saul of Tarsus, the proud Pharisee, the man of status and authority, is stuffed into a fish basket or a laundry hamper and lowered down a wall like a sack of potatoes under the cover of darkness. In 2 Corinthians, when Paul is listing his credentials and sufferings, he climaxes his list with this very story (2 Cor. 11:32-33). Why? Because it was a profound moment of weakness. The world glories in strength, in power, in dramatic victories. But God glories in weakness. He saved the world through a man hanging naked on a cross. And He saved His apostle by putting him in a basket.
This is a lesson Saul would never forget. His ministry would be marked by this principle: God's power is made perfect in weakness. He did not come to Damascus in a basket, he came breathing threats and murder. He left Damascus in a basket, a broken and hunted man, utterly dependent on God and his new, ragtag family. The road down, in the basket, was the beginning of the road up into his apostolic calling.
Conclusion: Your Basket is Waiting
This short account is a microcosm of the Christian life. It begins with a radical conversion that sets you at odds with the world. It inevitably leads to opposition from a world that hates the light. It reveals the utter futility of the world's power when set against the providence of God. And it demonstrates that God's methods of deliverance are often humbling, requiring us to depend not on our own strength, but on His grace and the fellowship of His people.
Every Christian is Saul in this story. When Christ saved you, He signed you up for a conflict. The world, the flesh, and the devil have plotted against you. They are watching the gates, seeking to trap you, to silence you, to neutralize your witness. They want to see you dead, spiritually if not physically.
And God, in His wisdom, will allow you to come to the end of your own resources. He will bring you to a place where the gates are shut and the walls seem too high. He will do this to teach you that salvation is of the Lord. He will do this to strip you of your pride and your self-reliance.
Your deliverance will likely not be glamorous. It may be as undignified as a basket. It may come in the form of a quiet word from a brother, a humble act of service from a sister, a door opened in a way you never expected. It will be a deliverance that leaves no room for boasting in yourself, but only in the cross of Christ. The question is not whether the world will plot against you. It will. The question is, when they do, will you trust in the God of the basket? Will you embrace the weakness through which His strength is perfected? Will you allow your brothers and sisters to lower the rope? For it is in that place of utter dependency that the true power of the gospel is unleashed.