Sermon text: Acts 18:24-28
This passage introduces Apollos, a Jewish man from Alexandria—at the time the second-greatest city in the Roman Empire, renowned for its library, lighthouse, and university. Described as eloquent and mighty in the Scriptures, Apollos would have been trained in the more vivacious, emotionally expressive rhetorical style typical of Alexandria, distinct from the more reserved delivery favored further north in Greece and Rome. That stylistic difference likely explains some of the factionalism Paul later addresses in 1 Corinthians, where believers had begun aligning themselves with favorite teachers—Paul, Apollos, Peter—based on delivery and personality rather than substance, even though all were preaching the same gospel. Paul himself, by contrast, explicitly rejected relying on polished rhetoric, telling the Corinthians in 1 Corinthians 2:1-5 that he came to them in weakness and trembling, deliberately avoiding persuasive human wisdom so that their faith would rest on God’s power rather than eloquence.
Apollos appears to have been a genuine believer, accurately teaching what he knew—but with a significant gap: he knew only the baptism of John, a baptism of repentance pointing forward to the coming Messiah. Given the likely timeline (these events occur around 52-55 AD, before the Gospels were widely circulated, if written at all), it’s plausible Apollos was working from partial, secondhand information about Jesus, filtered through deep knowledge of Old Testament prophecy but without full New Testament teaching—concepts like believer’s baptism or the Holy Spirit’s role may simply not have reached him yet in complete form.
That gap surfaces when Apollos begins preaching boldly in the synagogue at Ephesus, where Aquila and Priscilla—a Jewish couple who had worked alongside Paul as tentmakers after being expelled from Rome—hear him and recognize the incompleteness in his teaching. What follows demonstrates humility moving in two directions at once.
First, Aquila and Priscilla correct him humbly. Rather than confronting him publicly, they take him aside privately, some suggest even inviting him into their home, to explain “the way of God more accurately.” This models an important principle: correction driven by love protects the other person’s dignity, while correction motivated by pride tends to happen publicly, more concerned with being seen as right than with actually helping. Philippians 2:3-4 captures the underlying posture: esteeming others above oneself, looking not only to personal interests but to the interests of others. This doesn’t mean truth never gets stated plainly—clear heresy still needs to be named—but most correction calls for discernment about timing, tone, and whether the moment truly calls for public confrontation or quiet, private guidance.
Second, and just as significant, Apollos receives the correction humbly. Rather than growing defensive about being corrected by a tentmaker and his wife, a scholar and skilled orator submits to instruction from people with far less social standing than his own. The text shows the results: Apollos went on to Achaia (the region including Corinth and Athens), where he greatly helped believers and vigorously demonstrated from Scripture that Jesus is the Christ. Paul’s later correspondence confirms Apollos remained a valuable, trusted partner in ministry across both Asia and Europe, even useful later in Titus’s ministry on Crete.
Worth noting: Priscilla’s role in correcting Apollos wasn’t an exercise of authority over him—she and Aquila remained under Paul’s leadership, functioning as his representatives, teaching accurately rather than asserting personal authority. Scripture elsewhere affirms women teaching, encouraging, and correcting within appropriate relationships, and this account fits that pattern rather than contradicting it.
Proverbs 12:1 puts the underlying principle plainly: “Whoever loves instruction loves knowledge, but he who hates correction is stupid” (or in the King James, “brutish”). The temptation to believe personal experience or success exempts someone from further correction shows up at every age and stage—not just among the elderly assumed to be “set in their ways,” but often especially among the young, confident, and inexperienced who mistake certainty for wisdom.
This matters for present-day life, too, since the surrounding culture continues shifting in ways that require ongoing learning—new intellectual movements, changing conversations about identity, ethics, and global events that didn’t even exist as topics a decade ago. The core truth of Scripture never changes, but understanding how to communicate it faithfully into an evolving world requires continual humility and willingness to keep learning. As long as there’s breath to draw, there’s more to receive—an old dog absolutely can learn new tricks, provided there’s still a will to be taught.