Scriptures: Acts 4:36–37; 9:26–27; 11:22–26 (NLT)
Joseph, a Levite from Cyprus, is barely remembered by his given name. The church knew him by another name—Barnabas, meaning “son of encouragement.” This was not a title he claimed, but a description others gave him. His humility was so consistent, so visible, that encouragement became his identity. True humility rarely announces itself; it is named by others after long observation.
Barnabas’s first appearance in Scripture is marked by quiet surrender. He sold a field and laid the proceeds at the apostles’ feet (Acts 4:36–37). No speech. No explanation. No demand for recognition. Unlike others who later gave publicly while privately holding back (Acts 5:1–4), Barnabas gave fully and disappeared from the spotlight. Humility does not need to be seen to be sincere. “Give your gifts in private, and your Father… will reward you” (Matthew 6:4).
His most significant act of humility came when Saul of Tarsus tried to join the disciples. Saul’s reputation preceded him—persecutor, jailer, accomplice to murder. The church was understandably afraid. Everyone kept their distance. Everyone except Barnabas. “Barnabas took him and brought him to the apostles” (Acts 9:27). He staked his credibility on another man’s transformation.
Pride protects its reputation. Humility risks it for redemption.
Barnabas did not minimize Saul’s past, but he testified to God’s grace at work in him. This is the humility of discernment—seeing who someone is becoming, not just who they have been. Scripture reminds us, “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation” (2 Corinthians 5:17). Barnabas believed that truth enough to act on it.
Years later, when revival broke out in Antioch, the Jerusalem church sent Barnabas to investigate. His response reveals his heart: “When he arrived and saw this evidence of God’s blessing, he was filled with joy, and he encouraged the believers to stay true to the Lord” (Acts 11:23). He didn’t assert authority or reshape the movement around himself. He rejoiced in what God was doing and strengthened others to remain faithful. Humility celebrates God’s work even when it doesn’t originate with us.
Then Barnabas did something astonishing. Recognizing that the work in Antioch needed stronger teaching, he went looking for Saul. He intentionally brought in someone more gifted, more forceful, and eventually more prominent than himself. “Then Barnabas went on to Tarsus to look for Saul” (Acts 11:25). Humility is not threatened by excellence in others. It makes room for it.
As Paul’s ministry flourished, Barnabas quietly stepped back. Scripture’s language even shifts—from “Barnabas and Saul” to “Paul and Barnabas.” Yet there is no hint of jealousy. “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves” (Philippians 2:3). Barnabas lived this before Paul ever wrote it.
Later, when Paul rejected John Mark for a previous failure, Barnabas chose restoration over efficiency. He took Mark under his care. Years later, Paul would admit, “Mark… is helpful to me in my ministry” (2 Timothy 4:11). One encourager’s patience preserved a future Gospel writer.
Barnabas shows us that humility consistently encourages, risks compassionately, celebrates quietly, and releases prominence willingly. He never wrote Scripture, but he shaped those who did. That is the unseen power of humble faithfulness.
Ask God to show you one person whose growth you could encourage without recognition. Will you risk your reputation, time, or comfort to strengthen someone else’s calling—even if they someday surpass you?
“Humility multiplies the Kingdom by lifting others higher than itself.”