Prophecy in Work Boots: The Famine Relief Text: Acts 11:27-30
Introduction: Faith with its Sleeves Rolled Up
We live in an age that loves to spiritualize everything into a fine mist. For many modern Christians, faith is a private, internal feeling, a warm sentiment that resides somewhere in the vicinity of the heart, but which rarely ventures out into the world with calloused hands. It is a faith of good intentions and pious thoughts, but it is a disembodied faith. It is a ghost. But the faith of the Bible is never a ghost. Biblical faith always has flesh and bone. It always shows up, gets to work, and leaves footprints in the mud of the real world.
The book of Acts is the story of the Holy Spirit on the march, and He is not marching through a sanitized, ethereal dreamscape. He is marching through the dusty, politically-charged, economically-volatile Roman Empire. And when the Spirit moves, He does not just move hearts; He moves hands and feet and pocketbooks. He rearranges not only our doctrinal statements but also our bank statements.
Here in the eleventh chapter of Acts, we see this principle in sharp relief. The gospel has exploded out of its Jewish cradle and taken root in the pagan metropolis of Antioch. This is a seismic shift. For the first time, a thriving, Spirit-filled church is composed largely of Gentiles. They are called "Christians" for the first time in Antioch, a name likely given to them by outsiders, but one they would soon own with honor. This new church is a picture of vibrant life. But just as we see this new work of God taking off, we are immediately shown that this faith is not an abstract philosophy. It is profoundly practical. It is a faith that hears a prophecy about a future hardship and immediately begins to calculate, to plan, and to give.
This passage is a beautiful illustration of the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. But it is more than that. It is a rebuke to any form of Christianity that separates the supernatural work of the Spirit from the mundane work of budgeting and logistics. It shows us that true, Spirit-filled orthodoxy is always connected to Spirit-filled orthopraxy. Prophecy and provision go hand in hand. What God reveals, God's people act upon. This is faith with its sleeves rolled up.
The Text
Now in those days, some prophets came down from Jerusalem to Antioch.
And one of them named Agabus stood up and indicated by the Spirit that there was going to be a great famine all over the world. And this took place in the reign of Claudius.
And as any of the disciples had means, each of them determined to send a contribution for the service of the brothers living in Judea.
And this they did, sending it in charge of Barnabas and Saul to the elders.
(Acts 11:27-30 LSB)
The Prophetic Word (v. 27-28)
We begin with the arrival of prophets and a specific, testable word from the Lord.
"Now in those days, some prophets came down from Jerusalem to Antioch. And one of them named Agabus stood up and indicated by the Spirit that there was going to be a great famine all over the world. And this took place in the reign of Claudius." (Acts 11:27-28)
The first thing to notice is the casual way Luke mentions the presence of prophets. In that transitional era, before the New Testament canon was complete, the gift of prophecy was an active and necessary part of church life. God was still speaking directly to His people to guide, warn, and edify them. These men came down from Jerusalem, the mother church, to Antioch, the new Gentile powerhouse. This demonstrates an early and vital connection between the two centers of Christianity.
One of these prophets is named Agabus. We meet him again in Acts 21, where he warns Paul of his impending arrest in Jerusalem. Here, he stands up and "indicated by the Spirit" that a great famine was coming. The word for "world" here is the Greek oikoumene, which typically referred to the inhabited world, the Roman Empire. This was not some vague premonition. It was a specific declaration about a future event. And Luke, writing as a careful historian, adds a crucial parenthetical note: "And this took place in the reign of Claudius."
This is not mythology. This is history. Secular historians like Suetonius, Tacitus, and Josephus all record multiple severe famines throughout the Roman Empire during the reign of Claudius, which lasted from A.D. 41 to 54. The prophecy of Agabus was vindicated by the facts. This is the biblical standard for a true prophet: their predictions must come to pass (Deut. 18:22). This is not like the vague, untestable, "prophecies" that are so common in some circles today. This was a hard, historical fact, delivered in advance by the Spirit of God.
This raises a question that often troubles people. If prophets like Agabus were speaking for God, why aren't their words in the Bible? The answer is that we must distinguish between the gift of prophecy and the unique, foundational authority of Scripture. The apostles and prophets who wrote Scripture were given a unique commission to lay the foundation of the church (Eph. 2:20). Their words were God-breathed for all time. Other prophets, like Agabus or Philip's four daughters, spoke true words from God, but they were for a specific time, a specific place, and a specific purpose. God is sovereign over what He chooses to preserve for His canon. The fact that Luke records the prophecy of Agabus is what makes it Scripture, not the fact that Agabus spoke it. The Holy Spirit is the one who decides what gets written down and preserved for the universal church.
The Practical Response (v. 29)
The response of the church at Antioch is immediate, practical, and instructive for us.
"And as any of the disciples had means, each of them determined to send a contribution for the service of the brothers living in Judea." (Acts 11:29 LSB)
Notice the chain of events. The Spirit speaks, the church hears, and the church acts. They did not form a committee to discuss the eschatological implications of the famine. They did not hold a conference on the theology of suffering. They heard the warning, and their first thought was, "How can we help?" This is faith in its working clothes.
The text says they determined to send a contribution, each "as any of the disciples had means." This is a foundational principle of Christian giving. It is not a flat tax. It is proportional. Paul lays this out in 1 Corinthians 16:2, telling the church to set aside money "as he may prosper." This is not a burden placed on the poor, but a responsibility placed on everyone according to their ability. The man with two mites and the man with a talent are both called to give from what God has given them. The amount is secondary to the principle of cheerful, determined sacrifice.
But also, note who they are helping. The largely Gentile church at Antioch is raising funds for the largely Jewish church in Judea. This is more than simple charity; it is a profound act of unity. The ancient world was riddled with ethnic hostility, and the tension between Jew and Gentile was particularly sharp. Within the church, the Judaizing controversy, the question of whether Gentiles had to become Jews to be saved, was already simmering and would soon boil over. In the face of this, the Gentile believers in Antioch are sending a substantial gift to their Jewish brethren in Jerusalem. This is Paul's theology of the "one new man" in Ephesians 2 being lived out. It was a tangible demonstration that the dividing wall of hostility had been torn down in Christ. This gift was a preemptive strike for unity, a declaration that in Christ, there is neither Jew nor Greek.
The Faithful Delivery (v. 30)
Finally, we see the execution of their plan, which involves two of the most important men in the history of the church.
"And this they did, sending it in charge of Barnabas and Saul to the elders." (Acts 11:30 LSB)
Their determination was not left as a mere good intention. "And this they did." Faith without works is dead, and good intentions without follow-through are just a pious wish. They collected the money and then entrusted it to reliable men to ensure it reached its destination. This is important. Christian generosity should be thoughtful and stewarded well. It is not enough to give; we must also take care that our giving is effective and managed with integrity.
And who do they send? Barnabas, the "son of encouragement," the man who first vouched for Saul when everyone else was afraid of him. And they send Saul, the man who would become the apostle Paul. This trip to Jerusalem is highly significant. Many scholars, myself included, believe this is the visit Paul refers to in Galatians 2, where he went up "by revelation" to lay out the gospel he preached among the Gentiles. The prophecy of Agabus was the impetus for the trip. This shows how God weaves together the supernatural and the practical. A prophetic word about a famine leads to a relief effort that also becomes the occasion for a crucial apostolic summit that would preserve the truth of the gospel for generations to come.
They delivered the gift "to the elders." This demonstrates the established order and authority in the Jerusalem church. The gift was not distributed haphazardly. It was given to the recognized leadership for them to administer. This is a picture of an orderly, connected, and mutually submissive church. The church in Antioch respected the leadership in Jerusalem, and the church in Jerusalem was about to receive a life-sustaining gift from their new brothers and sisters in Antioch.
Conclusion: The Gospel Embodied
So what does this short passage teach us? It teaches us that the Christian faith is earthy, practical, and generous. It is a religion of the supernatural that works itself out in the natural. The Holy Spirit does not just give visions; He inspires action.
First, we see that God graciously warns His people. The prophecy of Agabus was a gift of grace, allowing the church to prepare and to act, rather than simply react in a crisis. God still guides His church through the sufficient word of Scripture, warning us of the spiritual famines of our age and equipping us to stand.
Second, we see that a Spirit-filled church is a generous church. The immediate response of the Antioch Christians was not "what about us?" but rather "what can we give?" Our giving is a primary indicator of the state of our hearts. A tight-fisted Christian is a contradiction in terms. God's grace is a torrent, not a trickle, and those who have been flooded by it ought to be conduits of that same grace, both spiritual and material.
Finally, we see that Christian generosity is a powerful weapon for unity. That gift, sent from Gentiles to Jews, was a sermon preached in silver and gold. It declared that their shared identity in Christ was more fundamental than centuries of ethnic division. In our own fractured and divided age, the church is called to be a picture of this same radical unity, a unity that is demonstrated not just in what we say, but in how we share, how we serve, and how we love one another across the lines that the world deems so important.
This is the gospel embodied. A word from the Spirit, leading to a work of the saints, resulting in the welfare of the church and the glory of God. May we be the kind of Christians who hear God's word and respond not just with "Amen," but with rolled-up sleeves and open hands.