In His Name: The Power of Jesus at Work

There's something extraordinary about standing in the presence of a miracle. Not the kind we casually toss around when our favorite team wins or we find a parking spot at the mall. I'm talking about the kind that stops crowds in their tracks, the kind that makes the impossible suddenly, undeniably real.

Acts chapter 3 gives us one of those moments—a scene so vivid you can almost hear the gasps of the onlookers and feel the electricity in the air.

The Man at the Beautiful Gate
Picture this: It's three o'clock in the afternoon at the temple in Jerusalem. The massive complex bustles with worshipers heading to evening prayers. At one of the gates—scholars debate which one, but it's known as the Beautiful Gate—sits a man who has never taken a single step in his entire life. He's been lame from birth, carried to this spot every single day to beg for coins from passersby.

He's a fixture, as familiar as the stones beneath him. People see him, maybe drop a coin, maybe don't, and move on with their day.

But on this particular afternoon, two men stop. They don't reach for their money pouches. Instead, they look directly at him—really look at him—and say something that must have seemed absurd: "Look at us."

The beggar does, expecting the usual transaction. But what comes next changes everything.

"I have no silver or gold, but what I do have I give to you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk."

What's in a Name?
Before we rush past that phrase, let's pause. "In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth." What does that actually mean?

In our modern world, a name is just a label, something to differentiate you from the millions of other people on the planet. But in the ancient world, a name carried weight. A name was virtually equivalent to the person themselves—their character, their authority, their very essence.

When Scripture speaks of God's name, it's speaking of God Himself. To call on the name of the Lord is to call on the Lord. To believe in Jesus' name is to believe in Jesus Himself. The name and the person are inseparable.

So when these words were spoken—"in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth"—it wasn't a magic formula. It was an invocation of the very presence, power, and character of the risen Savior. It was Jesus Himself doing the work, though He was physically absent, working through His Spirit in His followers.

Walking, Leaping, Praising
What happened next is pure joy.

The man's feet and ankles became strong—instantly. He didn't tentatively test his weight or wobble uncertainly. He leaped up. He walked. He entered the temple with his healers, "walking and leaping and praising God."

When was the last time you walked and leaped and praised God just because your legs work? When did you last marvel at the ordinary miracle of simply being able to stand?
This man had never known that freedom, and now he couldn't contain his joy. He clung to his benefactors—not for support, but out of pure gratitude.

The crowd recognized him immediately. This was the beggar they'd seen for years, and now he was dancing. Wonder and amazement filled the temple courts. People came running to see what had happened.

It's Not About Us
As the crowd gathered, one of the men who had spoken the healing words addressed them. His message was urgent and clear: "Why do you stare at us as though by our own power or piety we made him walk?"

This wasn't false humility. It was a profound recognition of reality. The healing wasn't about human power or religious performance. It was about Jesus—the one this very crowd had denied and crucified just weeks earlier.

Here's where the message gets uncomfortable. The speaker didn't soften the truth. He reminded them: You denied the Holy and Righteous One. You asked for a murderer to be released instead. You killed the Author of Life.

But—and this is crucial—God raised Him from the dead. And it was in His name, by faith in His name, that this man was healed.

The work of Jesus didn't stop when He ascended to heaven. He was continuing His ministry through His Spirit working in His followers. The physical absence of Jesus made His spiritual presence all the more profound.

The Invitation
Then came the invitation that echoes across the centuries: "Repent, therefore, and turn back, that your sins may be blotted out, that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord."

Repent. Not a popular word in our therapeutic age. But true repentance is simply admitting that what God says is true and, in light of that truth, changing our minds and hearts about our sin and our need for a Savior.

The crowd's response was divided. Some religious leaders were annoyed and angry. But many believed, and the number of believers grew to about five thousand.

God Moves First
Here's a beautiful mystery tucked into this story: The healed man didn't seek out healing. He asked for money. But God gave him something infinitely better.

This illustrates what theologians call "prevenient grace"—the idea that before we can seek God, God first seeks us. Before a sinful person can think a right thought about God, God must do a work of enlightenment within them.

We pursue God because He first put that urge within us. As one wise teacher put it, "God is always previous." He moves first. The impulse to follow Him originates with Him.

But here's where it gets personal: Though God initiates, we must respond. We must pursue Him. In practice, God's previous work meets our present response. This is the divine mystery—all is of God, yet we must actively engage.

Children of the Burning Heart
To have found God and still to pursue Him—that's the paradox of love. It's scorned by those satisfied with surface-level religion, but it's the happy experience of those with burning hearts.

What would it look like for us to be people of burning hearts? Not content with routine religion or comfortable Christianity, but actively pursuing the God who first pursued us?
The same power that healed the lame man is available today. The same name—Jesus Christ—carries the same authority. The same Spirit that worked through those early believers dwells in everyone who has placed their faith in Christ.

We were once paralyzed by sin, looking for meaning in things that could never satisfy. But God had mercy. He provided not the alms of the world, but the arms of Jesus, outstretched on the cross.

The Author of Life was crucified for our sins but raised up by God. And He continues His work through His Spirit in us.

So rise up. In the name of Jesus Christ, rise up and walk in newness of life. Rise up and go out and love this world for the glory of God.

The invitation stands. The power remains. The name is still above every name.