The Only Name that Saves - Acts 4:8-12

Every year, on the last Sunday in October, we pause our current sermon series to reflect on the Protestant Reformation. And that’s because on October 31st, 1517 Martin Luther famously nailed his 95 theses to the door of the Wittenberg church—the moment historically credited with sparking the Protestant Reformation. 

If you go to the service tonight at the First Evangelical Presbyterian Church, you’ll get a double dose of the Protestant Reformation, which is of course why the last Sunday in October is affectionately referred to as Reformation Sunday.

So much of Martin Luther and frankly, all the protestant reformers' frustration was directed at the unbiblical teaching of the Roman Catholic church. If you ever read John Calvin’s famous work the Institutes of the Christian Religion much of it is a corrective to the theological errors of the Roman Catholic Church. 

The Catholic church taught and still teaches to this day that Christ’s work opened the door to salvation, but that the believer must cooperate with grace and perform acts of penance to fully atone for sins. The treasury of merits — the supposed surplus righteousness of the saints — could be applied to others through the purchase of indulgences. Indulgences were effectively a piece of paper that you could buy that could get someone’s sentence in purgatory shortened. 

But all of these practices flew right in the face of clear Biblical teaching, like Hebrews 10:11-14:

“And every priest stands daily at his service, offering repeatedly the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins. 12 But when Christ had offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins, he sat down at the right hand of God, 13 waiting from that time until his enemies should be made a footstool for his feet. 14 For by a single offering he has perfected for all time those who are being sanctified.” 

The Protestant Reformers contended, fought, and believed Christ’s sin-atoning sacrifice was enough. There was never any need for additional things because no human work, priestly act, or additional merit could add to what Christ had already completed. 

There are many ways to characterize the Protestant Reformation: You could call it a back-to-the-Bible movement. You could call it a recovery of the great doctrine of justification by faith alone. Or you could call it a rediscovery of the sufficiency of Christ—His Word, His grace, His work, and His glory as the center of the Christian faith and life.

And so hopefully all of that sheds a little bit of light on this morning’s passage, because it deals with the glorious all-sufficiency of Jesus Christ. This isn’t something that was invented whole cloth by the Protestant Reformers—it is a thoroughly biblical doctrine that Christ’s own disciples advocated for.

We’ll be looking at three things this morning from our passage: first, we’ll look at the power of Christ’s name (vv. 8-10), second, we’ll look at the rejection of the cornerstone (v. 11), and lastly, we’ll look at the exclusivity of Christ’s salvation (v. 12). 

The Power of Christ’s Name (vv. 8–10)

The book of Acts describes the origins of the church. It describes the founding of the church of Jesus Christ, and so, Acts 4:8-12 aren’t just random words on a page, what is said here has a historical context. Peter and John had been arrested by the Sadducees for preaching the resurrection of Jesus Christ. The Sadducees were Jewish religious leaders who denied the resurrection of the dead. There are several events that have led up to the point of Peter and John’s arrest. In Acts 3 Peter and John had committed the heinous act of healing a lame beggar in the name of Jesus Christ. And because the healing of this man was done publicly, it had drawn a large crowd, which presented Peter with the opportunity to preach the gospel.

And of course, preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ was highly offensive to the Jewish religious establishment. It’s at the beginning of Acts chapter 4 we learn that “the priests and the captain of the temple and the Sadducees came upon them, 2 greatly annoyed… and they arrested them…” 

And that’s where we find ourselves this morning—Peter and John are dragged before the Sanhedrin, which was the most powerful Jewish court of their day and were expected to answer questions about the gospel message. 

And everything that Peter says in verses 8-12 is in response to what he was asked in verse 7 by the Sanhedrin: “By what power or by what name did you do this?” 

Peter says, “Rulers of the people and elders, 9 if we are being examined today concerning a good deed done to a crippled man, by what means this man has been healed, 10 let it be known to all of you and to all the people of Israel that by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom you crucified, whom God raised from the dead—by him this man is standing before you well.”

Peter answers the question directly: let it be known to all of you and to all the people of Israel that by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom you crucified, whom God raised from the dead—by him this man is standing before you well. 

This is the same Peter who not all that long ago denied Jesus Christ three times, and then was restored by Jesus himself. And do you remember how Jesus restored Peter? Three times Jesus said, ““Simon, son of John, do you love Me?” And each time Peter affirms, “Yes, Lord, You know that I love You.”

Each time Peter responds, Jesus gives a command: “Feed My lambs.” “Tend My sheep.” “Feed My sheep.” Through those simple commands Jesus was to teach, guide, and guard God’s people.

And so what you see here in this passage is Peter 2.0. A new and improved Peter. A bold and courageous Peter. A Peter who makes no attempt to defend what they did. He’s effectively in a courtroom setting being asked to defend him and Peter and he doesn’t even really do that! There’s no nuance or dodgy technicalities that Peter is trying to exploit. He simply answers their question directly. Yes, we did it and we did it by the name of Jesus Christ. 

When I think of the boldness of Peter and John before the Sanhedrin, I’m reminded of another moment in church history when a man stood boldly before power.

On multiple occasions in sixteenth-century Scotland, John Knox was summoned before Mary, Queen of Scots, to give account for his bold preaching. She accused him of defying her authority and sowing division, but Knox always held that even kings and queens were required to submit to the rule and authority of Christ. It’s really a fascinating historical study of John Knox’s fearlessness even in the face of power. 

Like Peter and John, Knox stood before earthly authority and declared the truth of the gospel. His courage reminds us that the gospel does not bend before crowns or councils because there is salvation in no other name but Jesus Christ.

Because this is the effect that Jesus has on people! When Jesus radically transforms your life you really have no choice but to stand for him! How could you deny your Savior who laid down his life for you? 

And yet at the same time, we all know the difficulty to stand and speak boldly in front of a crowd of people who are diametrically opposed to everything you believe. Especially, if the people you are speaking to hold power over you and faithfulness to Christ could potentially cost you something.

In those moments there is a great temptation to compromise the gospel. Whenever Scripture confronts the idols and values of our culture, the pressure to soften the message is immense. Hasn’t that been one of, if not the greatest problem of the modern evangelical church? So many try to soften the gospel message in order to make it sound more palatable and less offensive.

Rather than speak plainly about sin and our desperate need for redemption through Christ, many will reframe things in therapeutic terms. That’s when you’ll hear about brokenness instead of rebellion, struggles instead of sin, and self-care instead of repentance. For too long people in the church have only been willing to talk about Jesus as long as it feels safe, polite, and culturally acceptable.

At the end of the day if someone feels validated and understood but hasn’t heard the gospel, then what’s the point? There’s no power in making people feel better about themselves. The only power and hope for our sin-sick world is in the name of Jesus Christ—the One who alone can forgive sin, heal the heart, and reconcile us to God. Feelings may comfort for a moment, but only Christ saves for eternity. The world doesn’t need more affirmation; it needs transformation through the gospel.

The Rejection of the Cornerstone (v. 11)

And of course, Peter understood that, which again, required him to speak boldly. Look at what he said there in verse 11: “This Jesus is the stone that was rejected by you, the builders, which has become the cornerstone.”

Peter is actually quoting Psalm 118:22, which declares, “The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.”

What’s striking here is how Peter identifies the Jewish Sanhedrin—the religious leaders standing before him—as “the builders.” That title isn’t accidental. For centuries, God had entrusted the Jewish people with the blueprints of His redemptive plan. Through His covenants with Abraham, Moses, and David, the Lord had revealed promises pointing forward to the coming of the Messiah. Scripture itself was like a great construction project—every law, every prophecy, every sacrifice—building toward the arrival of Christ, the cornerstone of God’s saving work.

And yet, when the promised Messiah finally appeared, those who should have recognized Him first—the builders—rejected Him. They cast aside the very foundation stone upon which the entire structure of redemption rests. Peter’s message, then, is sharp and unmistakable: You, the religious leaders of Israel, have rejected the very One God sent to fulfill His promises. The stone you dismissed, God has made the cornerstone of His eternal kingdom.

Again, this was a major point of the Protestant Reformation, making Jesus Christ central to the church. The Reformers recognized that human tradition, human authority, and human wisdom—even when cloaked in piety—cannot replace the person and work of Christ. 

Time and again, they warned against letting ceremonies, hierarchies, or religious leaders obscure the gospel. Christ Himself must be the foundation, the cornerstone, the center of every sermon, every sacrament, and every act of worship. The message of Acts 4:11 reminds us that this is not optional. For the church to remain faithful, Jesus must remain supreme in every aspect of its life and ministry.

I think there’s a temptation among all of us sitting here today to think, well, that problem has been dealt with and eradicated from the church. We don’t deal with those problems anymore. Ladies and gentlemen, if that’s what you think, you are completely misguided. It might not come as an outright rejection of Jesus Christ, but how often do we make the church about everything but Jesus Christ? It’s often much more subtle.

It’s about the programs. It’s about events, friends, committees, or social influence. It’s about appearances and numbers and the things we can measure. And while there’s nothing inherently wrong with these things, they become dangerous because those are the things that can pull us away from what’s most important—Jesus Christ. When the focus shifts from Him, we risk building a fragile church that is missing the cornerstone.

We’re blessed as a church to be in a position where we have to think about what’s next? Where will we end up long term? It’s certainly a step that we need to take but the reality is, as we all know, these are the changes that can cause us to take our eye off the ball! This is exactly what Peter was warning against in Acts 4:11—making the church about everything but Jesus Christ.

But this isn’t just a church problem. There’s a temptation for all of us personally as well. The truth is, many people profess to be Christians who love Jesus and yet they live their lives as if He doesn’t exist. It’s tempting to treat the church as something that we do and the gospel as information that we understand rather than the source of who we are. Programs, buildings, and events are all secondary; they must serve the mission of Christ, not become the mission themselves. The Protestant Reformers knew this all too well—they fought to reclaim the church for Christ alone, reminding us that if He is not central, everything else ultimately fails.

The Exclusivity of Christ’s Salvation (v. 12)

But it’s not just the centrality of Jesus Christ that’s important, it’s also the exclusivity of His salvation.

What Peter says in verse 12 is incredibly bold and to his Sanhedrin audience, very offensive: “there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved.” 

Peter is simply restating what Jesus himself proclaimed in John 14:6, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

What Peter proclaimed to the Sanhedrin would have been incredibly offensive because he was saying, “your religious system is wrong because it’s missing Jesus.”

The Sanhedrin were men who prided themselves on their devotion, their learning, and their authority. They were the gatekeepers of Israel’s spiritual life—the ones everyone else looked to for guidance. 

And now Peter, an uneducated fisherman from Galilee, stands before them and declares that all of their learning, all of their rituals, and all of their sacrifices are meaningless apart from Christ. You can imagine how shocking that must have sounded. In one sentence, Peter dismantles centuries of religious confidence and redirects all hope and salvation to one person: Jesus of Nazareth—the man they condemned as a blasphemer.

Like Peter, the Protestant Reformers were adamant over the exclusivity and sufficiency of Jesus Christ. 

John Calvin warned in his Institutes of the Christian Religion that, “Christ alone, therefore, must be preached, and all our doctrine must be reduced to simplicity, that the whole of our wisdom may be confined to the knowledge of Him.”

The exclusive claim of Christ remains offensive to a world that prizes tolerance and self-sufficiency. Yet it’s also the most loving message we can proclaim—because only in Jesus can anyone truly be saved.

The message of the gospel has never been safe or easy. The good news of salvation in Christ alone is, by its very nature, offensive. It confronts every human attempt to earn favor with God. It declares that all other ways fail—that every other world religion, human goodness, and moral effort can never save. Only Christ can.

After all, only Christ is sinless. Only Christ’s sacrifice satisfies God’s justice. Only Christ rose from the dead. Only Christ is the perfect Mediator between God and man.

That message runs directly against the grain of our pluralistic culture. We live in a world that insists all beliefs are equally valid and that truth is relative to each person’s perspective. Any claim of certainty—especially the claim that salvation is found in Christ alone—is often labeled as arrogance or intolerance. Yet, that is precisely the unchanging truth of the gospel: there is salvation in no other name but Jesus.

When Peter was before the Sanhedrin, he wasn’t trying to offend or insult anyone—he was simply proclaiming what is true. Salvation has never come through ritual, moral effort, or human achievement—it has always come through faith in Christ. Not Moses. Not Abraham. Not your own self-sufficiency. Not your education. Not through government programs or charitable works. Only Jesus.

This simple, yet profound truth is what the church needs to reclaim today. We don’t need a timid, fearful church. We need a bold church where every Christian is prepared to proclaim the truth about Jesus Christ, even if it costs them something. And we must remember that the exclusivity of the gospel isn’t harsh; it’s gracious. 

The shocking truth is not that there is only one way to God—but that there is any way at all for sinners like us. God’s mercy in Christ is the most inclusive invitation imaginable: “Whoever calls upon the name of the Lord will be saved.” The gospel simultaneously humbles human pride and magnifies divine grace. It says to the self-righteous, “Christ has done it,” and to the guilty, “Your stains have been washed whiter than snow through Jesus Christ.”

When that truth grips your heart, fear begins to lose its power. You stop worrying about being misunderstood or rejected, because you know eternity is at stake. A church that truly believes in the exclusivity and sufficiency of Christ will never remain silent. It will speak with courage, clarity, and compassion—because it knows that only Jesus saves.

Boldness doesn’t mean being harsh or argumentative; it means speaking truth with grace and conviction, refusing to soften or distort the message for the sake of comfort or acceptance. We’re not responsible for changing hearts—God alone does that—but we are responsible for faithfully pointing others to the only Savior.

Just as Peter looked the Sanhedrin in the eye and declared, “There is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved,” we too must be ready to testify to the sufficiency and exclusivity of Christ. In a world that celebrates pluralism, compromise, and self-sufficiency, the church must rediscover its courage and clarity. The gospel is too good, too urgent, and too life-giving to keep quiet.

The bottom line is this: you cannot be bold about something you don’t believe in yourself. True gospel boldness flows from deep conviction—an unshakable confidence that Jesus really is who He said He is, and that His finished work on the cross is enough for every sinner who believes. When that truth takes hold of your heart, boldness naturally follows, because you know there is no other name under heaven by which we must be saved.

Amen. Let’s pray together.