Barnabas, whose name (actually a nickname), according to Acts 4, meant “Son of Encouragement,” had one quality that, in my estimation, really sets him apart: he was a good judge of character who did not base all of his assessment on past acts or reputation but on who the person in front of him was in the present.

In Acts 9, Paul, who had been a blood-thirsty persecutor of the first Christians, has had his conversion experience (on the road to Damascus) and wishes to be allied with the leadership of the fledging Christian movement. Peter, et al., understandably had the attitude of “thanks, but no thanks.” Plus, it is really quite a stretch to be a murderous persecutor one day and then not only wish to have your repentance accepted by those you persecuted (much like an elderly George Wallace wheeling himself into a black church, late in life, asking forgiveness) but then want to be a leader in the organization you had tried so hard to destroy.

It would be generous to say that the attitude toward Saul/Paul/Whomever was reluctance. It was, in fact, suspicion and enmity. Were it me, I’d be willing, at most, to say something like “well, he can pass out bulletins for a year or two and if there’s no problem, then maybe he can sit on a church membership class.” This is primarily how Peter regarded the matter–Yes, Saul/Paul/Whoever had come to Jerusalem. No, Saul/Paul/Whoever is not welcome in my home and among my closest friends (those that he hasn’t killed yet).

So Paul goes to Barnabas and lays out his entire story to him. There’s no reason to believe that he held anything back or tried to excuse his behavior or tried to hide his desire not only to atone for his past bad acts but to be integrally, utterly involved in helping to grow this Christian movement–identifying himself as a prime example of how an encounter with Christ can turn a person’s life around.

What to do, what to do? Do you give someone who has injured (in this case killed) people you care deeply about another chance? Do you create a waiting period (an on-earth purgatory) during which they “prove” themselves and appropriately burn off their past sins in order to receive another chance? Do you simply wrap your arms around them and embrace them as if nothing had ever happened? Do you decide to become their advocate and take up the new cause of championing the repentant? Do you put yourself into the middle of a situation that, at least on one level, is not your business (here, the relationship between Paul and Peter)?

Here’s what Barnabas did: He spent enough time with Paul and had seen enough of life to discern the following: Paul was indeed sincere. Paul had crossed over that point of no return where his former ways were in fact a thing of the past. Paul had the “It” factor to really contribute to Christianity. Paul was someone worthwhile enough for Barnabas to stake his own reputation on, and share his views with Peter and the other Jerusalem-based leaders.

I dare say we’ve all lived through variations on this type of situation. And I do not suggest that there is a one-size fits all answers. This is not a column about making the same choice as Barnabas–to stake your reputation on a former murderer with people you are close to. (Many of us have learned from miserable experience how that can potentially turn out, particular with those engaged in substance abuse or domestic violence… or with dysfunctional family members!)

Rather, what is remarkable about Barnabas is how grounded he was. He paid attention and he trusted his instincts. Trusting those instincts is not the same as allowing oneself to be swept up with the hope of becoming a problem-solving Messiah. Trusting one’s instincts is not the same as allowing oneself to be swept with with the cruel delight of being the Judge who tells someone, “I declare you inappropriate. Be gone!” Trusting your instincts is not the same as allowing yourself to be seduced by becoming the great Mediator who helps work out some sort of compromise that everyone can live with and that no one but you could have come up with!

No. It really is about the honesty of hearing another person out (as Barnabas did)–all the way through. It is undoubtedly about asking questions, querying the person and the circumstances, and being aware of one’s one limitations and blindspots (we can never fully know another’s heart). Having done this, Barnabas simply went to Peter, et al., and said, “Look, I’ve spent time with this guy and here’s what I truly believe about him.” Notice–Barnabas is not the Messiah. He’s not the Judge. He’s not even the Mediator. He just reports what he himself believes, and allows the parties involved to take that information for what they believe it is worth.

In this case, because Barnabas was trustworthy, Peter was willing to extend personal credit to Paul and to allow him to stay with him for a couple weeks, so that Peter could find out for himself about this former enemy. Peter didn’t do it at the direction or even under the emotional manipulation of Barnabas. Peter did it because he trusted Barnabas sufficiently, based on Peter’s own experience of Barnabas.

This is subtle yet very powerful stuff here. Barnabas provides a magnificent roadmap for what to do when you find yourself in the middle of other people’s dramas (that affect you as well). By avoiding the need to be Messiah, Judge, or Mediator…by finding out for himself the nature of the unknown person or changed situation…and by being honest with others about “here’s what I see and believe, given what I know at this point,” Barnabas offers something of great value to us today: A Way Forward!