The Community Behind Change: Why Transformation Is Never A Solo Journey
In the late 1990s, Antong Lucky was one of the most feared men in Dallas, Texas. As the founder of a notorious Bloods gang branch, his life was defined by violence, hatred, and crime. His identity was built on aggression, and his enemies—the Crips—were simply targets in an endless war.
But something shifted during his time in prison. Lucky began to see through the fog of hatred that had consumed him. He realized that the men he considered enemies were just like him—they missed their mothers, they longed for their children, they were human. This realization sparked an internal transformation, but it presented a daunting question: What could he do with this change, alone in a prison cell?
When Lucky was released in 2000, he was a changed man on the inside, but on the outside, he remained the notorious gang leader everyone feared. He couldn't build bridges to his former enemies by himself. He needed help.
That help came from Bishop Omar Jahwar, a man known for negotiating gang peace treaties. Bishop Omar saw the genuine change in Lucky and did something radical—he embraced him, advocated for him, called him "brother," and staked his own reputation on Lucky's transformation.
Together, they organized the unthinkable: a city-wide gang peace summit. Hundreds of rival gang members—Bloods and Crips who had been trying to kill each other for years—gathered in the same room. Because a trusted leader like Bishop Omar vouched for a changed man like Antong Lucky, the impossible happened. Over 400 gang members signed a peace treaty and laid down their arms.
Lucky's story wasn't finished when he had a change of heart in prison. It was completed when an advocate embraced him and a community of former enemies accepted him.
The Myth of the Self-Made Person
We love the narrative of the self-made individual—the person who overcame obstacles and pulled themselves up by their own bootstraps. But this is more than just an incomplete story; it's a dangerous lie rooted in pride.
The truth is simpler and more beautiful: no one is self-made. No one got where they are by themselves. No one has become who they are in isolation.
God's purpose for us is deeply personal, but His process to get us to that purpose always involves community. This is why isolation is so spiritually dangerous. Isolation stunts growth and hinders God's process on the road to your purpose.
Have you ever met someone who is 45 years old but has the emotional intelligence of a 15-year-old? Just as emotional growth can be stunted, so can your growth into God's purpose. When we isolate ourselves from the community God has placed around us, we hinder our own transformation.
Saul's Transformation: A Community Project
The story of Saul's conversion on the Damascus road is one of the most dramatic transformation accounts in Scripture. But most people only know half the story. They focus on the blinding light, the voice of Jesus, and Saul's dramatic fall from his high horse. That's powerful, but it's incomplete.
The real story isn't just about how God saved one man; it's about how He used people—a community—to complete that transformation process.
After his encounter with Jesus, Saul was left physically helpless, blind for three days, spiritually broken, fasting and praying, stripped of his former identity and power. He was at his most vulnerable. God had broken him, but God didn't leave him in his brokenness. God met him there and healed him—but here's the crucial part: He did it through community.
Ananias: The Embracer
God sent a man named Ananias—not an apostle, not a prophet, not a famous church leader, just "a certain disciple." An ordinary man given an extraordinary assignment.
God gave Ananias specific, detailed instructions: go to a specific house on a specific street, find a specific person doing a specific task. This reveals how intentional God is with the people He places in our community. There are specific people God has assigned to your life with specific backgrounds, specific gifts, and specific wisdom for your specific purpose.
When Ananias arrived, he did something remarkable. He called Saul "brother," placed his hands on him, restored his sight, and baptized him. In community, Saul was put back together, healed, his identity reframed, and he embraced a new life.
Here's a critical insight: First John 1:9 tells us that if we confess our sins, God is faithful to forgive us. But James 5:16 says to confess our sins to each other and pray for each other so that we may be healed. Saul's salvation and forgiveness were personal, but his healing happened in community.
The Damascus Disciples: The Protectors
After Ananias ministered to Saul, Scripture tells us that "Saul spent several days with the disciples in Damascus." Don't move past that too quickly.
These were the very people Saul had come to Damascus to arrest and kill. They had every reason to fear him, reject him, or seek revenge. Instead, they welcomed him, provided fellowship, and integrated him into their community.
When Saul's bold preaching provoked a murder plot from the Jews, these same disciples protected him. They lowered him in a basket through the city wall at night to help him escape. The persecuted became the protectors. The very people he intended to kill made sure other people didn't kill him.
This is what God did for us. Romans 5:10 reminds us that while we were God's enemies, we were reconciled to Him through Christ. The church is called to embody this same restorative approach, welcoming those whose pasts are marked by harm and brokenness.
Barnabas: The Advocate
After his time in Damascus, Saul tried to join the disciples in Jerusalem, but they were all afraid of him. Internal transformation, no matter how sincere, is often invisible and untrustworthy to a community that has been wounded.
Saul's change of heart was real, but it was useless without a bridge to the community. He was stuck in spiritual no-man's-land.
Enter Barnabas, who provided a masterclass in advocacy. He did three critical things: he vouched for Saul's story, he risked his own reputation by standing with him, and he provided access and opportunity by physically bringing Saul to the apostles.
We often talk about the need for mentors, but we need more than mentors—we need advocates. A mentor advises you and offers guidance. An advocate champions you, speaks your name in rooms you can't enter, and uses their reputation to build yours.
Without Barnabas's advocacy, Saul would have remained on the outside looking in, unable to fulfill his calling.
Our Call to Community
Saul's conversion wasn't complete on the Damascus road. It was completed in community—with Ananias, the Damascus disciples, and in the presence of the apostles, thanks to Barnabas.
There are "Sauls" among us today—new believers, people with messy pasts, those returning to faith. They are broken and blind, needing someone to call them "brother" or "sister." They need community.
And God is calling us to be the Ananases, the Damascus Disciples, and the Barnabases. To be an Ananias means taking a risk on the person everyone else fears. To be the Damascus Disciples means practicing restorative justice instead of seeking revenge. To be a Barnabas means using our influence to advocate for the outsider.
The story of transformation is never a solo journey. It's always a community project. And in God's beautiful design, we all have a role to play.
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