At Gateway Church in Austin, we continued a series looking at the early church in the book of Acts.
What if faith was never meant to be boring, but an adventure? The book of Acts is the story of ordinary people encountering an extraordinary God, and stepping into a life they never expected.
It started with an invitation. To wait. To be filled. To trust God in a new way. And that invitation became an adventure; full of courage, purpose, and impact.
And here’s the best part, that same invitation is still open to you. No matter where you’ve been
or where you’re starting, there’s a place for you in the story.
ACTS: The Invitation… and The Adventure.
Don’t just watch it…step into it.
Digging Deeper:
Message from Gateway South Austin:
Message Audio from Gateway South Austin:
Message Notes from Carlos Ortiz, Jr.:
There are moments in life when brokenness becomes so familiar that it starts to feel normal. Not right—but normal.
A lingering injury.
A strained relationship.
A quiet anxiety that hums beneath everything.
A sense that something in the world—and something in us—is not as it should be.
Over time, we adjust.
We learn how to cope.
We lower expectations.
We begin to sit at the gate instead of imagining we could walk through it.
And then, into that ordinary, normalized brokenness, Acts 3 speaks with startling clarity—not just about healing, but about the kind of healing that signals the arrival of an entirely different kind of kingdom.
Not a temporary fix. Not a spectacle. But restoration.
Acts 3 begins with a quiet, almost routine moment:
“Now Peter and John were going up to the temple at the hour of prayer, the ninth hour.” (Acts 3:1)
This is not a dramatic opening. There’s no announcement, no thunder, no visible sign of power. Just two followers of Jesus walking to pray.
And that matters.
Because what’s about to happen doesn’t begin with a search for a miracle—it begins with ordinary faithfulness.
The Spirit often works not in the extraordinary spaces we manufacture, but in the ordinary rhythms we inhabit.
Then we’re introduced to a man:
“And a man lame from birth was being carried, whom they laid daily at the gate of the temple that is called the Beautiful Gate…” (Acts 3:2)
He has never walked.
Not once.
His entire life has been defined by limitation.
And notice the phrase: laid daily.
This is his routine.
His life is structured around dependence.
He sits at the entrance to a place he cannot fully enter.
He is close to worship—but not fully included in it.
He sees people going in. He hears the prayers. But he remains outside, asking for alms. You see, there was no way for him to work. He relied on the generosity of others just to survive. This is a story of a man with physical disabilities and facing extreme poverty.
“Seeing Peter and John about to go into the temple, he asked to receive alms.” (Acts 3:3)
This is what he expects. Not healing. Not transformation. Just enough to get through another day. And if we’re honest, that’s often what we expect too—not transformation, just survival. Not restoration, just relief.
Then something happens that interrupts the entire pattern:
“And Peter directed his gaze at him, as did John, and said, ‘Look at us.’” (Acts 3:4)
This is deeply human and deeply spiritual. Peter doesn’t rush past. He doesn’t toss a coin without eye contact. He stops. He looks. He dignifies this man that most people just walked right past and ignored.
Healing in the kingdom of God is a beautiful algorithm of power mixed with presence.
And the man responds:
“And he fixed his attention on them, expecting to receive something from them.” (Acts 3:5)
But what he expects and what he receives are not the same.
“But Peter said, ‘I have no silver and gold, but what I do have I give to you.’” (Acts 3:6)
This is one of the most important lines in the passage.
Peter acknowledges his lack—I have no silver and gold—but he also knows what he carries.
And here’s the question that presses in on us:
Do we know what we carry?
Because if we don’t, we will default to offering what’s easy rather than what’s powerful. We will give what is convenient rather than what is transformative.
Peter continues:
“In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk!” (Acts 3:6)
This is not a vague hope. It is not a tentative suggestion. It is a declaration rooted in the authority of Jesus.
And then—remarkably—
“And he took him by the right hand and raised him up…” (Acts 3:7)
Peter doesn’t just speak. He reaches. Because healing in the kingdom is not detached. It is embodied. It is relational. It is costly.
At the beginning of the year I sensed my voice of the year was “presence.”
Daily I am praying to experience more of God’s presence. At the same time, I am praying to be more present for my family, for my church family, and for others God brings across my path.
What happens next is immediate and undeniable:
“And immediately his feet and ankles were made strong.” (Acts 3:7)
But Luke, the author, doesn’t stop at the physical description. He wants us to see the fullness of what’s happening:
“And leaping up he stood and began to walk, and entered the temple with them, walking and leaping and praising God.” (Acts 3:8)
Have you ever experienced God heal someone physically?
Over in this prayer area, we’ve had people hobble in with crutches and leave without needing them.
God can heal us. Sometimes instantaneously and sometimes in the midst of a journey that could include doctors, surgeries, medications, diet, and exercise.
Jesus sometimes healed in the moment and other times he sent people on a journey that led to healing.
But sometimes God does not answer our prayers for healing. If that is the case, don’t give up praying. Sometimes He allows us to continue as we are because there are more things He wants us to learn in the midst of the suffering.
Or as Paul noted when what he called “his thorn in the flesh was not healed,” he discovered that God’s grace was sufficient. God was with Him in his suffering even as He was not healed from this particular affliction.
Notice the layers of restoration for the man in Acts 3:
- Physical: His feet and ankles are made strong
- Social: He enters the temple—he is no longer outside
- Spiritual: He is praising God
- Vocational: My assumption is that now he would be able to get a job and no longer need to beg to survive. Although this is not in the passage, it is a safe assumption.
This is the kind of healing the Spirit brings.
It is not partial.
It is not superficial.
It is holistic.
The man who once sat at the gate is now moving freely, joyfully, publicly.
(A Story from Gateway South Austin):
Some of you know Robert Allen.
He’s been part of our church for 26 years. He is now our facilities director – keeping this place cleaner than its ever been.
15 years ago he attended an event we did downtown next to one of the homeless shelters called Just Love. The idea is when you find someone in need and you aren’t sure what to do Just love them. We can always choose love.
Over the years Robert has helped several men find healing and eventually housing. Some of us helped at that event 15 years, for Robert it became a calling.
Kaye, our drummer today, works to help the homeless get off the streets. If you interested in volunteering with her team, just find me or her after the service. Kaye and her team can help you know how to help and not enable. How to help those who are wanting help and discern those who aren’t.
Back to our passage… The response to this man’s healing is predictable:
“And all the people saw him walking and praising God… and they were filled with wonder and amazement…” (Acts 3:9–10)
But here’s where we need to be careful. Because it’s easy to fixate on the miracle itself – to treat healing as spectacle. But Peter won’t allow that.
As the crowd gathers, Peter addresses them:
“Men of Israel, why do you wonder at this, or why do you stare at us, as though by our own power or piety we have made him walk?” (Acts 3:12)
This is critical! Peter immediately deflects attention away from himself.
He refuses to let the miracle become about human ability or spiritual achievement.
Instead, he reframes the entire moment:
“The God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob… glorified his servant Jesus…” (Acts 3:13)
In other words, this healing is not an isolated event. It is part of a much larger story—the story of God fulfilling His promises through Jesus.
And then Peter does something that feels jarring. He connects the miracle to the cross:
“Whom you delivered over and denied… and you killed the Author of life, whom God raised from the dead.” (Acts 3:13–15)
Why bring that up here?
NYC pastor Tim Keller once said:
You cannot understand the power of the kingdom without understanding the paradox of the cross.
-Tim Keller
The same Jesus through whom healing comes is the Jesus who was rejected, crucified, and raised.
And that means healing is not just about relief—it is about redemption.
Peter continues:
“And his name—by faith in his name—has made this man strong…” (Acts 3:16)
The power is not in Peter. It is not even in the act itself. It is in the name of Jesus—the person, the authority, the presence of the risen Christ.
John 12:32 – when I am lifted up[g] from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” 33 He said this to show the kind of death he was going to die.
John and Peter are saying something similar…the paradox of Jesus being lifted on a cross for all of mankind’s redemption wasn’t a one-time event.
We carry the cross with us to this day, we share of his death AND resurrection, that he came to seek AND save that which was lost.
This is our faith!
And faith is the means by which that power is received.
But notice: this is not a simplistic formula.
It’s not “have enough faith and you’ll be healed.”
That would turn faith into a technique.
Instead, it’s about trusting in the person of Jesus – the One who brings the kingdom, who restores what is broken, and who ultimately makes all things new.
Healing as a Sign, Not the Destination
Peter then shifts again:
“Repent therefore, and turn back, that your sins may be blotted out…” (Acts 3:19)
This might seem like a strange turn – from healing to repentance – but it actually reveals the deeper purpose of the miracle.
The healing is a sign.
It points beyond itself.
It points to the reality that in Jesus, something far greater than physical restoration is available: forgiveness, renewal, and reconciliation with God.
Peter goes on:
“That times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord…” (Acts 3:20)
This is the language of restoration. Not just isolated moments of relief, but an ongoing renewal that flows from God’s presence.
And ultimately:
“That he may send the Christ… whom heaven must receive until the time for restoring all the things…” (Acts 3:20–21)
Here’s the big picture:
This healing is a preview. A foretaste. A glimpse of what God is doing and will one day complete. The kingdom has broken in—but it is not yet fully realized.
In a world where brokenness is normalized, healing becomes a radical act of defiance.
Think about it. To believe in healing—real, holistic, kingdom healing—is to reject the idea that things must remain as they are.
It is to say:
This addiction does not have the final word.
This division does not have the final word.
This pain does not have the final word.
Healing declares that the kingdom of God is at hand – and that it is pushing back against everything that is fractured and fallen.
But this kind of healing is not just something we receive.
It is something we are invited to participate in.
What We Carry Is Meant to Be Given Away
Peter’s words echo again:
“What I do have I give to you…” (Acts 3:6)
This is a defining characteristic of Spirit-filled life. We are not meant to hoard what God has given us. We are conduits, not containers.But again, this requires clarity: What do we actually have?
If we believe we only have limited resources, we will give sparingly.
If we believe we carry the presence and power of Jesus, we will live differently.
This doesn’t mean we can manufacture miracles. But it does mean we can offer:
Presence to the lonely
Compassion to the hurting
Prayer to the broken
Truth to the searching
And sometimes—mysteriously, powerfully—God uses those moments to bring real healing.
Where Do You Need Healing?
This passage inevitably turns the question inward.
Where are you sitting at the gate?
Where have you settled into a pattern of “this is just how it is”?
Is it physical? Emotional? Relational? Spiritual?
The man in Acts 3 didn’t even ask for healing—he asked for alms.
His expectations were too small. And sometimes ours are too.
Maybe you came today just expecting to live with what you have, the affliction, the sadness, the brokenness that we deem unchangeable.
But the invitation of the gospel is not to minimize your need – it’s to bring it honestly before Jesus.
Because healing begins not with having everything figured out, but with being willing to be seen.
Where Can You Bring Healing?
And then there’s the outward question:
Who is at the gate in your life?
Who is sitting just outside—overlooked, limited, expecting very little?
Who is sitting next to you today, right here at Gateway?!
The call of this passage is not simply to admire Peter and John—it’s to follow their example.
To stop. To look. To engage. To give what you have.
Because the Spirit who empowered them is the same Spirit at work today.
Baptism and Restoration
And on a day like today—when we celebrate baptisms—this passage takes on even deeper meaning.
Because baptism is itself a sign of healing. Not just physical healing, but the deepest kind:
From death to life
From separation to belonging
From brokenness to restoration
It is a declaration that the old patterns no longer define us—that in Christ, something new has begun. In many ways, baptism is a visible “get up and walk.”
Not because life suddenly becomes easy, but because identity has changed.
The Final Word
Acts 3 doesn’t end with the miracle. It ends with an invitation:
“God, having raised up his servant, sent him to you first, to bless you by turning every one of you from your wickedness.” (Acts 3:26)
The ultimate blessing is not just healing—it is transformation. To be turned. To be restored. To be made whole. And that’s the heart of the kingdom.
Not spectacle. Not performance. But restoration—deep, comprehensive, and lasting.
So today, hear the words again:
“In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk.” (Acts 3:6)
Because the Spirit still heals.
The kingdom is still breaking in.
And the invitation is still open.
