The “Almost” Apostle

There’s a man in the Bible I can’t stop thinking about today. I read his story just this morning. .

His name is Joseph, called Barsabbas (also known as Justus), and he appears for exactly one spotlight moment in Acts 1:23. That’s it. One verse. One nomination. One almost.

And somehow, that tiny mention has been working on me all morning.

After Judas Iscariot died, the remaining disciples needed someone to step into the circle of the Twelve. This wasn’t a casual role. The person had to have followed Jesus from the beginning — from John’s baptism all the way through the resurrection.

Joseph qualified.

Let that sink in.

He wasn’t a fringe follower. He wasn’t a latecomer. He had been there the whole time — listening, walking, watching, believing. Faithful in the background while history unfolded in the foreground.

Two names were put forward: Joseph and Matthias.

They prayed.

They cast lots.

And Matthias was chosen.

Joseph wasn’t.

And then… silence.

We don’t read about him protesting. We don’t see disappointment recorded. There’s no dramatic exit. He just steps back into the crowd of believers, his name fading from the page.

I don’t know why that moves me so much, but it does.

Because if I’m honest? I’m finding myself being taught of the Lord to be faithful in the background. Many times in my life, God has invited me in to key positions of leadership, but now he has brought me into a position of quietly listening to his voice and learning what it means to live in his presence.

To Abide… To Trust… To be Content…

Joseph reminds me that I can be fully qualified. I can be faithful. I can walk closely with Jesus and be invited by God to do it from the background.

And maybe that’s the point.

The kingdom of God has always been built by people whose names don’t make headlines. The spotlight might shine on a few, but the foundation rests on many. Joseph represents the steady, unseen faithfulness that keeps everything standing.

I imagine him after the decision — still praying with the others, still gathering, still believing. Still all in.

That kind of humility is rare. That kind of stability is powerful.

Sometimes I think Joseph’s story asks a quiet question:

If God sees you, is that enough?

Not the platform.

Not the applause.

Not the position.

Just faithfulness.

Joseph never became one of the Twelve, but he was counted worthy to be considered. And honestly? That tells me everything I need to know about the kind of man he was. And the kind of man I want to be.

Maybe the “almost apostles” are some of the most important people in the story after all.