The Straight Course to the Cross Text: Acts 21:1-17
Introduction: The Fallacy of the Detour
We live in an age of therapeutic Christianity, a faith that has been domesticated, declawed, and made comfortable for mass consumption. The modern evangelical project is largely an attempt to find a detour around Jerusalem. We want the resurrection, but we would rather skip the crucifixion. We want the crown of glory, but we want to avoid the crown of thorns. We are told that if we have enough faith, God will bless us, which is usually translated to mean He will give us a smooth ride, a healthy portfolio, and a conflict-free existence. The good life, as defined by the world, is simply baptized and called the will of God.
Into this plush and padded religion, the Apostle Paul walks like a man from another world. His journey in this chapter is a direct refutation of our entire therapeutic enterprise. He is on what Luke calls a "straight course," and that straight course is leading him directly into a storm of suffering. He is not trying to avoid trouble; he is resolutely walking toward it because that is where God has told him to go. The central issue in this passage is the will of God, and what our response should be when that will is not safe, not easy, and not what we would have chosen for ourselves.
We see here a clash between two things: the clear, costly call of God on a man's life, and the genuine, heartfelt, loving concern of his friends who try to talk him out of it. This is not a conflict between good and evil, but rather a conflict between good and best. The love of the brethren is a good thing. The preservation of one's life is, generally speaking, a good thing. But obedience to the specific, revealed will of God is the best thing, and it trumps all other considerations. This passage teaches us how to discern the will of God, how to distinguish divine information from human interpretation, and what it means to say, in the face of certain hardship, "The will of the Lord be done."
The Text
Now when we had parted from them and had set sail, we came by a straight course to Cos and the next day to Rhodes and from there to Patara; and having found a ship crossing over to Phoenicia, we went aboard and set sail. And when we came in sight of Cyprus, leaving it on the left, we kept sailing to Syria and landed at Tyre; for there the ship was to unload its cargo. And after looking up the disciples, we stayed there seven days; and they kept telling Paul through the Spirit not to set foot in Jerusalem. And when our days there were ended, we left and started on our journey, while they all, with wives and children, escorted us until we were out of the city. After kneeling down on the beach and praying, we said farewell to one another. Then we went on board the ship, and they returned home again. And when we had finished the voyage from Tyre, we arrived at Ptolemais, and after greeting the brothers, we stayed with them for a day. And on the next day we left and came to Caesarea, and entering the house of Philip the evangelist, who was one of the seven, we stayed with him. Now this man had four virgin daughters who prophesied. And as we were staying there for some days, a prophet named Agabus came down from Judea. And coming to us, he took Paul’s belt and bound his own feet and hands, and said, “This is what the Holy Spirit says: ‘In this way the Jews at Jerusalem will bind the man who owns this belt and deliver him into the hands of the Gentiles.’ ” And when we had heard this, we as well as the local residents began begging him not to go up to Jerusalem. Then Paul answered, “What are you doing, crying and breaking my heart? For I am ready not only to be bound, but even to die at Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus.” And since he would not be persuaded, we fell silent, saying, “The will of the Lord be done!” Now after these days we got ready and started on our way up to Jerusalem. And some of the disciples from Caesarea also came with us, taking us to Mnason of Cyprus, an early disciple with whom we were to lodge. And after we arrived in Jerusalem, the brothers welcomed us gladly.
(Acts 21:1-17 LSB)
Warnings Interpreted as Prohibitions (vv. 1-6)
The first part of our text details the journey and the first of the prophetic warnings Paul receives.
"And after looking up the disciples, we stayed there seven days; and they kept telling Paul through the Spirit not to set foot in Jerusalem." (Acts 21:4 LSB)
Paul's party lands at Tyre, and as is his custom, he seeks out the local Christians. The fellowship of the saints is the very fabric of his life. But here we hit our first interpretive speed bump. The disciples at Tyre tell Paul "through the Spirit" not to go to Jerusalem. Now, we know from the previous chapter that Paul is already convinced that he is "bound by the Spirit" to go to Jerusalem (Acts 20:22). So, is the Holy Spirit double-minded? Is He telling Paul one thing in private and the disciples another thing in public? Not at all. The Spirit is not the author of confusion.
The key is to distinguish between the divine revelation and the human application. The Spirit revealed to the Tyrian disciples what awaited Paul in Jerusalem: bonds and afflictions. This was a true prophecy, a factual warning. However, the disciples, out of deep and genuine love for Paul, attached their own conclusion to this revelation. Their reasoning was perfectly human: "The Spirit says you will suffer in Jerusalem; therefore, the Spirit must mean that you should not go." They mistook a warning for a prohibition. They interpreted the revelation of the cost as a command to avoid the course.
This is a constant temptation for us. We pray for God's will, but we have a strong preference for a will that does not involve pain. When God reveals that a path of obedience will be difficult, our first instinct is often to assume that it cannot possibly be His will. But the Spirit's warnings are not meant to be exit ramps off the highway of obedience. They are the "Bridge Ices Before Road" signs. They are there to prepare us for the hazard, not to command us to turn back. Paul understood this. He accepted the Spirit's factual data but rejected his friends' fearful conclusion.
The scene on the beach is profoundly moving. The entire church, men, women, and children, comes out to pray with them. This is covenant community in action. The tears are real, the love is thick, but the mission cannot be deterred. They are saying goodbye to a man they fully expect to be imprisoned or killed. This is the emotional cost of radical obedience.
A Prophecy Confirmed and Misapplied (vv. 7-12)
The warnings continue and intensify as Paul gets closer to his destination.
"And coming to us, he took Paul’s belt and bound his own feet and hands, and said, 'This is what the Holy Spirit says: "In this way the Jews at Jerusalem will bind the man who owns this belt and deliver him into the hands of the Gentiles."'" (Acts 21:11 LSB)
In Caesarea, they stay with Philip the evangelist, a man of solid repute from the earliest days of the church. The spiritual life of his household is vibrant; his four daughters are prophetesses. This is a home saturated in the things of the Spirit. Into this setting comes a prophet named Agabus, who delivers a dramatic, old-testament-style sign-act. He uses Paul's own belt to bind himself, providing a living illustration of what is to come.
Now, notice the precise wording of the prophecy: "This is what the Holy Spirit says..." Agabus is careful to quote the Spirit directly. And what does the Spirit say? He predicts the event: the Jews will bind Paul and hand him over to the Gentiles. The prophecy is a statement of what will happen. It is not a command about what Paul should do. It is a weather forecast, not a set of driving directions. The Spirit is confirming the cost, steeling Paul for the battle ahead.
But look at the response of the people, which this time includes Luke himself ("we as well"). "And when we had heard this, we as well as the local residents began begging him not to go up to Jerusalem." Once again, the same mistake is made. They hear the divine prediction of suffering and immediately jump to the human conclusion of avoidance. Their love for Paul, their desire to protect him from harm, overrides their submission to the sovereign plan of God that is unfolding before their eyes. Their pleas are well-intentioned, but they are functioning as a temptation. They are, in that moment, taking the part of Peter, who, after Jesus predicted His own suffering, rebuked Him and said, "Far be it from You, Lord! This shall never happen to You." And Jesus's response to Peter was sharp: "Get behind Me, Satan!" (Matthew 16:22-23). Loving, well-meaning advice can sometimes be satanic temptation if it seeks to divert us from the path of the cross.
The Heart of a Martyr (vv. 13-17)
Paul's response to this chorus of pleading reveals a heart utterly surrendered to the lordship of Christ.
"Then Paul answered, 'What are you doing, crying and breaking my heart? For I am ready not only to be bound, but even to die at Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus.'" (Acts 21:13 LSB)
Paul is not an unfeeling stoic. Their tears affect him deeply; they are "breaking his heart." The emotional pressure is immense. But his resolve is absolute. His response cuts to the very center of the Christian faith. The goal is not self-preservation. The goal is the glory of "the name of the Lord Jesus." Paul has already died. He was crucified with Christ. The life he now lives is not his own. Therefore, the prospect of physical death is not the ultimate threat. The only real threat is disobedience.
He says he is "ready." Ready to be bound. Ready to die. This readiness is not born of fatalism but of faith. He is not a pawn of fate; he is a servant of the Lord Jesus. His life has one purpose: to magnify Christ, whether in life or in death (Philippians 1:20). This is the logic of martyrdom, and it is the logic that every true Christian must embrace. We are all called to be living sacrifices. Our lives are not ours to protect and preserve; they are His to spend.
Faced with this immovable, Christ-centered resolve, the disciples finally relent. Their response is the great lesson of the chapter for all of us.
"And since he would not be persuaded, we fell silent, saying, 'The will of the Lord be done!'" (Acts 21:14 LSB)
They stopped arguing. They fell silent. And they submitted their own fears and affections to the revealed will of God. This is not a sigh of resignation. It is a declaration of faith. It is the prayer of the garden of Gethsemane. It is the creature acknowledging the wisdom of the Creator. It is the church recognizing that God's plan, even when it involves the suffering of His saints, is good and right and perfect. They could not see the end of the story. They did not know that this arrest would lead to Paul's testimony before kings and ultimately his journey to Rome. But they trusted the Author. Their final word is not one of protest, but of worship: "The will of the Lord be done!"
Conclusion: Your Jerusalem Awaits
It is easy for us to read this and admire Paul's courage from a safe distance. But the principle here is meant to govern every one of our lives. God has a "straight course" for you, and on that course, there will be a Jerusalem. There will be a place of costly obedience. It may be a difficult marriage you are called to remain faithful in. It may be an ethical stand at your job that will cost you a promotion. It may be the long, unseen, sacrificial work of raising your children in the discipline and instruction of the Lord. It may be a confrontation with a friend over their sin.
And when you are on that course, you will hear voices, often the voices of people who love you, telling you to take the detour. They will tell you it's not worth it. They will tell you to protect yourself, to look out for number one, to be reasonable. They will mistake the Spirit's warnings about the cost for a prohibition of the course.
In that moment, you must have the heart of Paul. You must be able to say that your life is not your own. You must be ready not only to be inconvenienced, but to be bound. You must be ready to die to your own ambitions, your own comfort, and your own reputation, all for the sake of the name of the Lord Jesus.
The Christian life is not a quest for personal fulfillment; it is a mission of joyful self-sacrifice. And when the cost is laid bare, when the cross comes into view, our only proper response is to silence our fears, quiet our protests, and join with the saints of old in that great, submissive prayer of faith: "The will of the Lord be done."