The Longest Sermon and the Last Goodbye — Modern Paraphrase | fresh.bible
The Longest Sermon and the Last Goodbye.
Acts 20 — A dead-of-night miracle, a farewell that wrecked the room, and a man who wouldn't stop walking toward danger
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Key Takeaways
Paul raised a dead teenager mid-sermon — then went back upstairs and kept preaching until dawn, because the miracle wasn't the point.
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Paul walked deliberately toward Jerusalem knowing prison waited, saying 'I don't consider my life worth anything to me' — not recklessness, but a man who found something worth more than self-preservation.
Paul's biggest warning wasn't about outside persecution but inside corruption — leaders who would use the church to build their own platform instead of protecting people.
Paul's farewell to the Ephesian elders ended with the entire room in tears, arms around each other, walking him to the ship — one of the most emotionally raw goodbyes in Scripture.
Paul never operated solo — he built diverse teams from every city he visited, because the gospel has always been a team effort.
📢 Chapter 20 — The Longest Sermon and the Last Goodbye 🚢
This chapter covers a stretch of journey that reads almost like a travel log — city after city, boat after boat, visited and encouraged. But woven through the travel are two unforgettable moments. First, a teenager falls out a window during one of Paul's marathon sermons (yes, really). And second, Paul delivers a farewell speech to a group of church leaders he knows he'll never see again — one of the most emotionally raw moments in the entire New Testament.
Underneath all the geography and logistics, there's a man walking deliberately toward danger because he's convinced it's exactly where he's supposed to go.
The Road Back Through Macedonia 🗺️
After the riot in settled down, gathered the believers, encouraged them one last time, and headed out for Macedonia. He traveled through the region, stopping at after church, pouring encouragement into every community he'd helped build. Eventually he made it to , where he stayed for three months.
But just as he was about to sail for , he found out about a plot against his life. So he changed his route — back through Macedonia instead. And he didn't travel alone. Sopater came with him, along with Aristarchus and Secundus from , from , , and and Trophimus from the province of . This crew went ahead and waited at , while Paul and the of the group sailed from after the of Unleavened Bread. Five days later, they all reconnected at Troas and stayed for a week.
Notice the crew list. Paul never operated as a solo act. He built teams everywhere he went — people from different cities, different backgrounds, all working together. That wasn't accidental. The has always been a team effort.
The Sermon That Almost Killed Someone 🪟
This is one of those stories you almost can't believe made it into . On Sunday evening, the believers gathered in an upper room to break bread together. knew he was leaving the next day, so he had a lot to say. A lot. He preached until midnight.
The room was packed. Lamps everywhere — which means heat, flickering light, and stuffy air. A young man named Eutychus was sitting in the window, probably trying to get some fresh air. As Paul kept going, Eutychus sank deeper and deeper into sleep. And then — he fell. Three stories down. When they got to him, he was dead.
Paul went downstairs, bent over him, and wrapped his arms around the young man. Then he said:
"Don't panic. He's alive."
And he was. Paul went back upstairs, broke bread, ate, and kept talking — until dawn. Then he left. And they took Eutychus home alive, and the relief in that room was enormous.
Here's what strikes me about this story. Paul just raised someone from the dead, and his next move was... to go back upstairs and keep teaching. No dramatic pause. No "do you all see what just happened?" The wasn't the point. The message was. And honestly? The fact that included this story — a kid falling asleep during a sermon — tells you something about how Luke wrote. He didn't polish out the embarrassing moments. Some things don't change.
Island-Hopping Toward Jerusalem ⛵
The next section reads like a shipping itinerary. companions sailed ahead to Assos while Paul went overland — probably wanting time alone to think and pray. They picked him up, then sailed to Mitylene, past Chios, stopped at Samos, and arrived at .
Paul deliberately sailed past . Not because he didn't care — he'd spent three years there. But he was in a hurry. He wanted to reach Jerusalem by if at all possible. He had a deadline and a destination, and he wasn't going to let even the places he loved most slow him down.
Sometimes keeping moving toward what God has put in front of you is exactly what looks like, even when stopping would feel easier.
"You Know How I Lived" 💬
From , sent word to and asked the of the to come to him. When they arrived, he didn't give them a speech so much as open his chest. No theological argument. No teaching outline. Just a man looking at the people he'd given years of his life to and saying: you know me.
Paul said:
"From the first day I set foot in Asia, you saw how I lived. I served the Lord with total humility, through tears and through every trial that came from the plots against me. I never held back anything that would help you — I taught you publicly and in your homes. I told everyone, Jews and Greeks alike, the same thing: turn to God and put your faith in the Lord Jesus Christ."
Think about what he's doing here. He's not defending himself or building a resume. He's reminding them that his life matched his message. In a world where everyone has a highlight reel and a personal brand, Paul's approach was almost absurdly simple: I lived with you. You watched me cry. You saw the hard parts. And I never watered down the truth to make it easier on myself or on you.
That's a rare kind of .
Walking Into the Unknown 🔥
Then said something that would have made everyone in the room go quiet:
"And now I'm going to Jerusalem, compelled by the Holy Spirit. I don't know what's going to happen to me there — except that in every city, the Spirit keeps telling me the same thing: prison and suffering are waiting for me.
But I don't consider my life worth anything to me. My only goal is to finish the race, to complete the mission the Lord Jesus gave me — to tell people about the grace of God.
I know that none of you will ever see my face again. Every one of you that I've walked among, preaching the kingdom — this is it. So I want you to hear me clearly today: I am not responsible for anyone's destruction. I held nothing back. I gave you the whole truth — everything God wanted you to hear."
Let that settle for a moment. Paul knew what was coming. Not the details, but the shape of it — chains, pain, the end of his . And he kept walking straight toward it. Not because he was reckless or had a wish. Because he valued finishing what he'd been given to do more than he valued his own comfort and safety.
That line — "I don't consider my life worth anything to me" — isn't motivational poster material. It's a man who found something worth more than self-preservation. Most of us spend enormous energy trying to protect our reputation, our comfort, our future. Paul had already let all of that go.
Wolves Are Coming 🐺
Now turned from looking back to looking forward — and what he saw wasn't pretty. He gave the their assignment:
"Guard yourselves, and guard the entire flock that the Holy Spirit placed in your care. You are overseers — your job is to shepherd the church of God, which he purchased with his own blood.
I know this: after I leave, vicious wolves will come in and attack the flock without mercy. And it won't just be outsiders — some of you, from your own group, will twist the truth to pull people away and build a following for yourselves.
So stay awake. Remember that for three years, day and night, I never stopped warning each one of you — with tears."
Read that slowly. Paul wasn't worried about persecution from the outside — he'd survived that. He was worried about corruption from the inside. People who looked like but operated like wolves. Leaders who would use the to build their own platform instead of protecting the people in it.
Then he handed them over to the only thing that could keep them:
"I'm placing you in God's hands now — and in the care of his word of grace. That word has the power to build you up and give you the inheritance that belongs to everyone God has set apart."
He didn't leave them with a strategic plan. He left them with God. Because organizations fail, systems break down, and even good leaders eventually leave. But the word of keeps building.
The Goodbye Nobody Wanted 😢
finished with something deeply personal. He held up his own hands — the hands of a tentmaker — and said:
"I never wanted anyone's money or possessions. You know these hands. They provided for my own needs and for the people with me. In everything I did, I showed you that this is how we help the weak — by working hard and remembering what the Lord Jesus himself said: 'It is more blessed to give than to receive.'"
That last quote — "it is more to give than to receive" — isn't recorded anywhere in . It's a saying of that was passed down orally and preserved only here, in Paul's farewell speech. One sentence from Jesus, saved in the most emotional moment of Paul's ministry.
Then Paul knelt down and prayed with all of them. And the room fell apart. Everyone was crying. They were throwing their arms around him, kissing him, holding on. The thing that broke them most was what he'd said — that they would never see his face again.
And they walked him to the ship.
There's no clever way to wrap this chapter up. It's just real. A man who gave everything he had to a group of people, telling them goodbye for the last time. The tears weren't performative. The hugs weren't quick. And the walk to the harbor must have felt like the longest walk any of them ever took.