Are You Using Jesus' Name—or Actually Knowing Him?

By Pastor John Erickson

Have you ever heard someone say all the right Christian things and wondered whether any of it means something to them?

They know the phrases. They know when to say "God is good." They know the verses to quote when someone is struggling. They might even sound impressively spiritual.

But knowing the right words and knowing Jesus are not the same thing.

Acts 19 contains a strange and, if I'm being honest, slightly comical story that makes that distinction hard to miss.

Ephesus was a complicated place

Paul is ministering in Ephesus, a city known in the ancient world for magical practices and spiritual power claims. People used charms, incantations, and elaborate formulas in hopes of securing protection or influence.

Then Luke tells us that God is doing extraordinary miracles through Paul. People are experiencing healing and deliverance. The work points beyond Paul to the living God.

And somebody gets an idea.

A group of itinerant Jewish exorcists sees what is happening and tries to invoke Jesus' name over people. Their formula is revealing: they appeal to "the Jesus whom Paul preaches."

It's as though Jesus is one more powerful name they can add to the collection. If it works for Paul, maybe it will work for them too.

The seven sons of Sceva

Acts 19:13-16 recounts what happens next. Seven sons of Sceva attempt to use Jesus' name in that way. An evil spirit answers that it knows Jesus and knows about Paul-but asks who they are. Then the man overpowers them, and they flee injured and humiliated.

That is not how they envisioned the ministry launch going.

Luke's story isn't a comedy sketch, and the suffering involved isn't a joke. But the sheer absurdity exposes a serious problem: they wanted the authority associated with Jesus without belonging to him.

They treated a relationship as a technique.

And that's a temptation far beyond ancient Ephesus.

We still look for formulas

Sometimes we approach faith as if it were a sequence of spiritual buttons. Pray the exact words. Follow the exact routine. Quote the right passage. Then God will produce the outcome we want.

Now, prayer matters. Scripture matters. Spiritual disciplines matter. But they aren't incantations.

They help us know God. They do not give us the ability to manipulate him.

I know all kinds of facts about my wife, Gina. I can describe her personality, tell you things she likes, and even tell you her favorite kind of kombucha. But knowing facts about her isn't the same as having a relationship with her.

Those details matter because they help me love her better. But a list of Gina facts is not a marriage. We love each other because we are connected. The relationship involves love, trust, conversation, attention, and the willingness to be known in return.

Why would we think the relationship Jesus invites us into is only a collection of correct facts?

Spiritual warfare without the weird extremes

Acts 19 also confronts our assumptions about spiritual evil. Some Christians ignore the subject entirely. Others become so focused on dark spiritual forces that almost every inconvenience looks like an attack.

Neither approach captures the balance of the New Testament.

Paul later tells believers that our struggle is not ultimately against flesh and blood (Ephesians 6:12). He takes evil seriously. Yet Colossians 2:15 speaks of Christ's victory over the powers and authorities through the cross.

I tend to think about spiritual warfare a little like termites. Stay with me here.

Termites are real. They can do significant damage. If you discover them, you don't ignore them. You address the problem, repair the damage, and take appropriate precautions.

But most homeowners don't spend their days trembling at the possibility of a termite uprising. The threat deserves attention, not obsession.

The analogy isn't perfect. No analogy is. But it helps us remember that spiritual darkness is not the center of the Christian story. Jesus is.

The result was genuine change

When the incident becomes known in Ephesus, people take Jesus' name seriously. Acts 19 describes believers confessing their practices, and some who had practiced magic publicly abandoning the books connected with that old life.

Notice the contrast. The sons of Sceva wanted a formula they could add to their toolkit. Others came to see that following Jesus meant letting go of tools and habits that no longer belonged.

That is the difference between using the name of Jesus and surrendering your life to him.

It isn't enough to sound spiritual on the outside. Jesus invites us into a relationship that reshapes the inside.

Maybe you know all the right answers. That's a good starting point. But when did you last sit with him without trying to get something? When did you last let his words challenge you instead of simply confirming what you already think?

The invitation isn't to learn a better Christian formula.

It's to know the person whose name we keep saying.