Acts 9:1-20 (NRSV)
Background and going deeper on Acts 9:1-19a
The theme of Acts 9:1-19a is the conversion and call to a mission of Saul. Conversions in Luke-Acts are stories about beginnings the beginning of a new chapter in the life of the church, the initiation of a new mission, as well as the beginning of a new life for the individual person. Conversion is the beginning of the Christian journey, not its destination. Conversion is not for the smug individual possession of the convert, but for the ongoing thrust of the gospel. In Acts, significant shifts in this story of the early church have conversions or call story at their beginning. Acts 2 is the converting of the disciples to their mission as the Holy Spirit falls upon them. Philip goes to the Samaritans in Chapter 8, being the messenger of their conversion. The apostles arrive, lay their hands on them, and they receive the Holy Spirit. He is also instrumental in the conversion and baptism of the Ethiopian along the road. Peter experiences the vision of unclean foods in Chapter 10, which leads him to share the good news with Cornelius, who receives baptism and the Holy Spirit. In such stories, God is calling individuals to a godly work. Further, such conversion and vocation are always the gift of God to the individual. Such change is the work of the Holy Spirit in the lives of people.
Conversion and calling are words that offend some. They can imply more than the one who experiences them intends. We can get it wrong. I have known some persons who think they need conversion every time they have a bad thought or do something they think they ought not to do. One who says God called him or her can cause skeptical thoughts in those who listen patiently and lovingly.
Yet, something beautiful exists in experiences of conversion and calling. Both words imply a second chance, and as such can imply the cost of such an experience. The one who has such an experience recognizes that the path down which one has traveled is the wrong path. One recognizes the need to find a new path in life. Such a conversion may have the appearance of being sudden. Yet, growing dissatisfaction with one’s life, growing doubt, and increasing tension usually precedes it. Further, the hope for something rewarding and fulfilling pulls one forward. Such changes also become costly to others who must adjust to the change. Some will make the adjustment easily. The converted and called can lose some friends, even as they gain others.
God is one who loves to give second chances. King David sinned in lying, adultery, and murder, and yet found forgiveness, cleansing, and restoration. The apostle Peter became violent at the end of the life of Jesus, lied, and denied he even knew who Jesus was. Yet, he experienced restoration and forgiveness through Christ. God placed him in leadership, where he could tend and feed the people of God. The apostle Paul persecuted Christians vigorously, and yet found conversion and calling in meeting the risen Lord. God also placed him in leadership in the church.
The one who is writing has needed a second chance. The one who reads may need one as well.
1Meanwhile Saul, still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord, went to the high priest. Saul, not the High Priest Caiaphas (to 36 AD) is the driving force of the persecution. Did the High Priest have jurisdiction outside of Judea? 2 Saul asked him for letters to the synagogues at Damascus, so that if he found any who belonged to the Way, men or women, he might bring them bound to Jerusalem. "Way" was the name for Christianity also in 19:9, 23, 22:4, 24:14, 22. The letters are mandates empowering Saul to root out Christians and place them under arrest. As we see from 26:9-11, Saul believed he ought to do many things against the name of Jesus of Nazareth, including acting under the authority of the chief priests against the followers of Jesus in Jerusalem. He put them in prison and voted against them when the punishment was death. Thus, we see that although Paul seems consumed with hatred and rage against the preachers and practitioners of "the Way," Saul's legal training cautions and contains his actions, enabling him to calculate carefully how he may best destroy these followers of Jesus. Instead of looking for easy targets upon which to practice vigilante justice, Saul goes before the high priest to petition for "letters" of authority that would serve as blank arrest warrants. Only the officially recognized Jewish council had permission from the Roman legal authorities to extend such documents. This power was one Rome continued to allow the Jews, fostering the illusion that the Jews still maintained a semblance of self-governing power. Armed with the proper papers, the letter-of-the-law-abiding Saul could wield genuine authority within not just the homes, but also the synagogues of other Jews. Saul could legally apprehend and bring to Jerusalem to stand trial before the high priest and council anyone he viewed as suspect. As aptly demonstrated at the trial of Jesus, Jewish leaders could then hand troublemakers over to the Roman authorities. They could let the violent justice of the Roman state take its course. The alliance between a Pharisee and the Sadducee formed in verse 2 is an unusual one and highlights the monstrous lengths to which Saul was willing to go to persecute Christians. Saul, a Pharisee, seeks out the Sadducee high priest of Jerusalem to obtain the necessary authorization to continue his fight against these miscreant followers of "the Way." This unique partnership between two unfriendly schools of Judaism occurred with an eye toward their common concern about maintaining temple purity. Damascus was one of the "check-in centers" along the journey for observant Jews making the annual pilgrimage to the temple in Jerusalem. At Damascus, Alexandria and other central locations, leaders could examine the ritual purity of the pilgrims and they could establish their identity as faithful Jews. The Jerusalem priests were worried that sectarian believers, such as those professing to follow Jesus, would be willing to look the other way and even allow Gentile believers to continue undetected to join the throngs at the Jerusalem temple. The entry of a Gentile into the temple would defile the whole structure.[1] Whether or not maintaining strict ritual purity adds to Saul's motivation, he intends to do his best to destroy the nest of believers at Damascus. Saul is obviously a dangerous and formidable enemy of the church. Indeed, most of Luke-Acts' uses of the verb "to persecute" involves Saul and his activities. He is Luke's archetypal enemy of the church. 3 Now, as he was going along and approaching Damascus, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. The sudden quality of this revelation to Saul receives emphasis. We find biblical language, with resemblance to the legend of Heliodorus in II Maccabees 3, but especially verses 22-28, 33-34, 35-40. It has its source in events between 187-175 BC. It involves intrigue surrounding the Temple. Heliodorus, present with authority from the king, desires to take Temple money to the king. A vision of two “men” or angels stops him. He is near death, but Onias III prays for him, he returns to health, and offers sacrifices to the Lord, “the Savior of his life.” He offers testimony of the deeds of “the supreme God, which he had seen with his own eyes.” The point of the story is that God protected the treasury. As to the vision, everyone present with Heliodorus experienced a manifestation so powerful that the power of God astounded them, making them grow weak due to their terror. A rider on a magnificent horse struck at Heliodorus. The rider had weapons of gold. Two young men also appeared, strong and beautiful, standing on either side of him and flogged him. Heliodorus was so weak that they carried him out on a stretcher. After his healing, another vision by the same two “men” said he should be grateful to Onias, since for his sake the Lord gave him the gift of life. He needed to remember that he had received his flogging from Heaven. Saul's vision begins (as Moses' did) with the appearance of "a light from heaven." 4 He fell to the ground. As a devout Jew, Saul responds to this light by falling to the ground and assuming the posture of worship. Saul heard a voice saying to him, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” Christ completely identified with the church. Although this passage describes the conversion experience that transforms Saul from rabbinic Jew to a Jew who accepts Jesus as the Messiah of the Jewish people, the experience itself relies heavily on his essential Jewishness to make sense. Saul saw the form of Jesus in the light, while those around saw a glare. Though the voice speaks the same words in all three accounts, this does not mean he recounted it this way. In fact, Galatians l:15 and II Corinthians 4:6 make this unlikely. The fact that the witnesses did not perceive or hear suggests that its character was that of a vision, as Paul himself has indicated.[2] 5 He asked, “Who are you, Lord?” Saul's response is to inquire about the identity of the voice. However, we should not think Saul's question suggests he had no idea who was addressing him. In the Jewish tradition, which is Saul's identity, dialogue is the natural form taken by divine revelations. Saul's question addresses the voice already with a partial identity -- "Lord." Saul only knows one God, so that divinity must indeed be the source of this voice. Saul falls into the same dialogue that transpired between Moses and the Lord. Like Moses, Saul is asking for the name of God as the divine now comes before him. Moses was informed that the divine power addressing him should be understood as "I am who I am" -- a title that results in the acronym "YHWH." One may vocalize it as "Yahweh," although a devout Jew would never dare to utter the divine name. The reply came, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. The identity of this Lord is Jesus, and to persecute Christians is to persecute him. In contrast to Moses, this miraculous revelation of God goes by a different name -- "I am Jesus." 6 Get up and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do.” This now identified voice instructs Saul, a traditional Jewish experience of divine revelation. The fact that the revelation tells him what to do now, rather than his whole future, shows how completely he is under the guidance of the Lord. He who a moment ago was so powerful has now become utterly powerless. However, Luke has the concern of showing the power of Christ, rather than weakness of Saul. Some would say that the revelation to Paul is without precedent. He was an unbeliever. As in the Old Testament stories of calling, there is no story leading up to it and came from God in such a way that it could not be refused. Yet, there is no parallel to being called while yet an unbeliever. The error here may be that Saul was a zealous believer in the Lord. He transitioned from a form of Judaism that adhered to the Law to a form of Judaism that believed in Jesus as the Messiah who would become a light to the nations. It also is the first revelation of the risen Lord outside Palestine. 7 The men who were traveling with him stood speechless because they heard the voice but saw no one. 8 Saul got up from the ground, and though his eyes were open, he could see nothing; so they led him by the hand and brought him into Damascus. The Christophany is over, the earthly action proceeds. Now blinded, his companions lead him by the hand to Damascus. Such is the pitiful state in which the terror of the Christians makes his entry. 9 For three days, he was without sight, and neither ate nor drank. We may suppose that those to receive baptism in Luke’s community fasted for a period. His blindness is not punishment, but a natural consequence of the vision. The three days fast, a form of penance, demonstrates his inward transformation. Like Moses' "shining face," Saul, too, the power of this revealed divinity physically affected Saul. His blindness renders him helpless and dependent on the graciousness of a community whom he had been intent upon riding over roughshod with his letters of authority. In darkness, Saul goes on a strict fast, neither eating nor drinking for three days.
10 Now, there was a disciple in Damascus named Ananias. The Lord said to him in a vision, “Ananias.” He answered, “Here I am, Lord.” These simple straightforward directives, coupled with the further instructions received by the devout and obedient Ananias "in a vision," constitute the final New Testament record of direct revelation by the resurrected Christ to any of his believers. 11 The Lord said to him, “Get up and go to the street called Straight, and at the house of Judas look for a man of Tarsus named Saul. At this moment he is praying, 12 and he has seen in a vision a man named Ananias come in and lay his hands on him so that he might regain his sight.” Just because Luke does not mention the role of the Holy Spirit, we can assume that he viewed the Holy Spirit as active here. 13 However, Ananias answered, “Lord, I have heard from many about this man, how much evil he has done to your saints in Jerusalem; 14 and here he has authority from the chief priests to bind all who invoke your name.” Ananias does not know Saul personally. Luke presents him as a member of a Jewish-Christian group in Damascus. The hesitations of Ananias show the reader what a menace Saul had been.[3] The call and response of Ananias fit the classic biblical “call narrative” genre. The most famous of these narratives is that of Moses (Exodus 3:1-4:17). When the Lord commissions Moses to confront Pharaoh, Moses poses six distinct reasons why he should not proceed as asked. The Lord counters each objection and offers signs of reassurance for the success of the mission. In the first two chapters of the gospel of Luke, two call stories appear, in the annunciation of the coming births of John the Baptist and of Jesus. In each episode, the prospective parents, Zechariah and Mary respectively, object that a birth is impossible; the angel refutes the objection and gives each a sign (Zechariah’s muteness and Elizabeth’s pregnancy). In the story of Ananias, Jesus appears and commissions him to an onerous task: curing the blindness of an enemy. 15 Nevertheless, the Lord said to him, “Go, for he is an instrument whom I have chosen to bring my name before Gentiles and kings and before the people of Israel. When Ananias objects, Jesus reassures him and offers a sign: Saul is praying and has a vision of the whole episode. Mollified, Ananias cures Saul. With the reminder of how dangerous Saul was, the reader cannot fail to appreciate the transformation that Christ is bringing about. Instead of persecution, God chooses Saul to bring Christ to the world. Note, furthermore, that rather than rejecting the Jews, his mission was to bring the “name of Jesus” to “Gentiles and kings and ... the people of Israel.” 16 I myself will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name.” Instead of causing suffering for the followers of Christ, Saul will suffer for the sake of Christ. 17 Therefore, Ananias went and entered the house. He laid his hands on Saul and said, “Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, who appeared to you on your way here, has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit.” Doubtless, Luke intends these three days Saul spends cut off from his normal physicality to remind the reader of the three days Jesus himself spent in the tomb before his resurrection. At the conclusion of Saul's "entombment" he, too, is reborn. The healing touch of Ananias restores his sight, and the gift of the Holy Spirit revitalizes his soul. 18 Immediately, something like scales fell from his eyes, and the Spirit restored his sight. Then he got up and received baptism, 19 and after taking some food, he regained his strength. This version emphasizes the role of the community in the discernment of vocations. The blinding light on the road has rendered Paul helpless, as he tries to discern the meaning of the episode. Others lead Saul to Damascus, bound in an affliction of blindness, as he had planned to lead Christians bound in chains to Jerusalem. Not only does Ananias cure Saul’s blindness, but he also begins to catechize Saul, for within this story it is to Ananias, not to Saul, that Jesus has communicated Paul’s commission, and Ananias, not Jesus, instructs Saul. We should note this account seems to be in direct contradiction to Paul’s own account of the same episode in Galatians, written some four decades earlier. There, Paul insists that he received the gospel from no human, but from God alone (Galatians 1:11-12). The role of the community in the cure of Saul supports the ecclesiological understanding of “the Lord” on the road near Damascus that Saul is persecuting Jesus (vv. 4-5). The risen Jesus identifies himself with the community of Christians.
For several days, he was with the disciples in Damascus, 20 and immediately he began to proclaim. The imperfect tense suggests he was preaching on numerous occasions in the synagogues of Damascus. He proclaimed Jesus in the synagogues, saying, “He is the Son of God.” The entire community at Damascus is as accepting and trusting of Saul, as was Ananias. They immediately baptized this former enemy into the family of faith and then sit down to eat a meal with them. One might conjecture that this may have been a Eucharistic feast. After being nurtured by this remarkable Damascus community for only a few days, Saul is ready to take his place in the saga of faith. Verse 20 closes the passage with Saul, the former persecutor, now standing amid the synagogue proclaiming Jesus to be "the Son of God."
Luke viewed the problem of Paul's mission as his insistence on a mission to the Gentiles. Had the early Christians been content with a mission to Jews, there would have been no problem with Jews or Romans. The account of the conversion demonstrates that this mission of Paul came from Christ. Contrary to psychological motivations, Luke wants to show that no human evolution could be responsible for this mission.
First, I want to explore the conversion of Paul in the context of what has happened in Acts.
Today, many associate conversion with the excesses of revivalism or razzle-dazzle electronic evangelism, where any means becomes legitimate and conversion is the beginning and end of Christianity. Certain traditions, such as evangelicalism, have held up the famous Damascus Road theophany to all generations of the church as one of the most stirring and miraculous transformations ever recorded. At the same time, some “liberal” Christians reject even the use of the term “conversion.” In Luke-Acts, conversion is not a peripheral event. Conversion as evidence of the miraculous power of God to make the church and to overcome every enemy and boundary is at the center of the church's life. We ignore the phenomenon of conversion as the peril of losing the church. Here is a God who takes me "just as I am without one plea," as we are fond of singing in the old hymn. However, God does not leave us just as we are. Too much of mainline Protestantism focuses not upon conversion but upon accommodation, adjustment, and the gospel reduced to the status quo. Acts reminds us that change and turning are part of the Christian lifestyle. At the same time, conversion is only a beginning of a call or vocation with Christ. Conversion is not the result of skillful leadership by the community or even of persuasive preaching or biblical interpretation. In many accounts, such as those of Philip's work with the Ethiopian, the mysterious hand of God directs everything. In other stories, such as the story of Peter and Cornelius, the church must be dragged kicking and screaming into the movements of God. Manipulation, strategic planning, calculating efforts by the community aimed at church growth are utterly absent. Even our much beloved modern notions of "free will" and personal choice and decision play little role in conversion in Acts. Conversion is a surprising, unexpected act of divine grace. "By his great mercy we have been born anew to a living hope" (I Pet 1:3b).
A growing consensus suggests that the term “conversion,” with its sense of a movement of commitment from no religion to a religion, is misplaced here. Krister Sendahl points out that Jesus’ depiction of Paul to Ananias as a “chosen instrument” recalls Isaiah 49:1 (“. . . The LORD called me before I was born, while I was in my mother’s womb he named me” and Jeremiah 1:5 (“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations”). Stendhal concludes that if we choose to speak of Paul’s experience as a conversion, rather than a call to a particular mission, then we should use the same language of Isaiah and Jeremiah.[4]James D.G. Dunn argues that it would be historically and theologically more accurate to speak of a movement from one mainline sect of first-century Judaism, Pharisaism, to another sect which saw itself as a “light for the nations.” Dunn points out that within this episode, Paul never expresses repentance for his actions. We understand his praying and fasting more easily as the preparation for his acceptance into the new community.[5] Throughout Acts’ description of Paul’s mission, he invariably begins in a new city by preaching Jesus in the Jewish assembly. On his arrival in Rome, his first act is to call the Jewish leaders to explain himself (Acts 28:17 ff). Noting why the division between Jews and Christians occurred, one cannot point to this incident as the genesis.
Luke records this event three times, with the second account in Chapter 22 assuming the Chapter 9 account, and with the third account in Chapter 26 an abbreviated version of the first two. In the third account, Luke heightens the contrast between Paul's pre-Christian and Christian periods. He takes the story of the conversion in Acts 9 and steadily applies it to the Gentile mission. In Luke’s plan for Acts the mission of Paul is not yet a theme in Acts 9. Luke deliberately interpreted the tradition of the story of a calling of Paul as a conversion story and put it in a series of three conversion stories. The event had immense importance to Luke. Paul was the key Christian thinker and missionary through the middle of the century. The story recounts the appearance of the risen Christ to Paul on the way to Damascus. Paul refers to this event I Corinthians 15:8 and Galatians 1:15. The persecutor became the one who proclaims. The enemy of Christ becomes a disciple of Christ. Thus, the text combines the conversion of Saul and his call to be an apostle to the Gentiles. Luke emphasizes that one who had been such a menace to the Christians and caused much suffering would not become a Christian and experience suffering for the sake of Christ. This can be nothing other than an election of grace. In later autobiographical notes Paul testifies to his extreme sense of righteousness and his wholehearted love of the Torah-Law he sought to both follow and protect. In fact, Saul's precise knowledge of both Jewish and Roman law makes him an effective persecutor of the first Christians.
Second, I want to discuss the narrative of the conversion of Saul.
Luke's sense of drama and gift for storytelling skillfully place this first of three accounts of Saul's conversion as a crescendo in a series of conversion stories. Beginning in Acts 8:4, Luke looks at Philip's remarkable work among the Samaritans, recounting their many conversions and healings. Luke follows Philip out on the road and tells of the sudden transformation of the Ethiopian eunuch into a believer. The stage now set with vivid examples of the Spirit's wonder-working activities, Luke turns to Saul.
Luke has only slightly foreshadowed his reader's knowledge of this man Saul. Luke first mentions him in 7:58 - at the scene of Stephen's martyrdom. While he does not physically participate in the stoning, Saul holds the coats of those who do. Immediately after Stephen's murder, a period of widespread persecution against the church begins; Luke portrays Saul (8:3) as a zealous participant in that activity. Early in the passage, Saul goes before the high priest to petition for "letters" of authority that would serve as blank arrest warrants. Saul initiates the action, and thus is not just doing the bidding of authorities. Only the officially recognized Jewish council had permission from the Roman legal authorities to extend such documents. This power was one Rome continued to allow the Jews, fostering the illusion that the Jews still maintained a semblance of self-governing power.
When Luke then reintroduces Saul and his hatred for the church in 9:1, we know Saul only by his evil reputation as chief persecutor of Jesus' disciples. We know little about the man himself - Saul's background, education, or status. Luke's description of Saul encapsulated the fierceness of his focus - as one who was "breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord.”
A voice now calls out to Saul asking the rhetorical question, "Why do you persecute me?" Saul's response is to inquire about the identity of the voice. Note the completeness of the identity between Christ and the church. By asking, "Who are you" Saul falls into the same dialogue that transpired between Moses and the Lord. Like Moses, Saul is asking for the name of God as the divine now comes before him. In contrast, the vision tells Saul that his miraculous revelation of God goes by a different name -- "I am Jesus" (v.5). Like Moses' "shining face," the power of the revelation physically affects Saul. His blindness renders him helpless and dependent on the graciousness of a community whom he had been intent upon riding over roughshod with his letters of authority.
Saul's dramatic vision on the road, and his ensuing career as the apostle to the Gentiles, naturally leads us to focus our attention on him during this story. However, Luke gives equal time and space to the simple, obedient disciple of Damascus, Ananias. The vision Ananias experiences from the Lord is every bit as startling as is the experience of Saul. In obedience, Ananias presents himself before the voice in his vision, saying, "Here I am, Lord."
Nevertheless, what a test of faith and nerve is set before Ananias! Incredulously, he listens as the Lord tells him not just to purposely seek out this fire-breathing dragon named Saul, but that he is then to heal him, making the now helpless and thus safe Saul once again strong and dangerous. Little wonder that this disciple thinks it wise to remind his Lord whom it is he is talking about - giving the divine a second chance, as it were, to get this message right.
The reader cannot fail to appreciate the transformation that Christ is bringing about. Instead of persecution, God chooses Saul to bring Christ before Gentiles and kings. God first reveals to Ananias, not Saul, the purpose and plan for the new apostle's life. Saul is now to be the Lord's "instrument" - a term that means a "container or vessel." Thus, Saul will "carry" Christ's name to the Gentiles, to kings, and to the people of Israel. As shocking as this news is to Ananias, the Lord does ease his disciple's mind a bit. Ananias' job is simply to go to Saul and heal him - for the Lord assures him that "I myself will show [Saul] how much he must suffer for the sake of my name" (v. 16). Note that in verse 17, Ananias even addresses this fearful enemy of his people as "Brother Saul" - demonstrating with his words his trust in the Lord's transformative abilities. Saul is no longer an outsider persecuting the church - he is now a true brother in Christ.
I conclude with a brief meditation.
Why does it take some of us so long? It would have been easy to judge Saul, that zealous Pharisee who persecuted early followers of Jesus. If anyone needed a second chance, it was Saul. Human beings need second chances.
Elizabeth Lunday, in an article entitled, “Great Christian Art by Really Lousy Christians”[6] wrote that if you want a heavenly picture, it is often best to hire a sinner. She gave several examples, but I will highlight three. You can easily find the paintings on the web.
Check out The Calling of St. Matthew by Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio. His paintings, especially his observation of the human condition, had a formative influence on Baroque painting. He burst upon the Rome art scene in 1600 with the success of his first public commissions. Thereafter he never lacked commissions or patrons, yet he handled his success poorly. He would work on a painting for a couple weeks, and then go on a drinking binge for a month or two, from one tennis court to another, ready to argue and fight. He had a death sentence pronounced against him by the Pope after killing a young man, unintentionally, after a tennis match in 1606. In the painting, the apostle is in a dark and dirty Roman tavern, surrounded by lowlifes. That is because Caravaggio spent plenty of time in these pubs himself, drinking and brawling.
Rembrandt has a well-regarded 1633 etching The Good Samaritan. Having achieved youthful success as a portrait painter, personal tragedy and financial hardship marked Rembrandt's later years. Yet his etchings and paintings were popular throughout his lifetime. The etching of the Good Samaritan is so down to earth that it has a dog relieving itself in the foreground. Members of the Dutch Reformed Church loved Rembrandt’s realistic artwork but did not appreciate his relationships with women. He painted his wife, Saskia, as a prostitute in a tavern, sitting in the lap of one of the most well-known of Jesus’ characters, the prodigal son. After Saskia died, he became lovers with his housekeeper and then left her for another servant, causing his housekeeper to take him to court. Messy. Rembrandt lost the support of church members because of his behavior and died in poverty in 1669 — but not before he painted one of his greatest works, Return of the Prodigal Son. Like the sinful son in the parable, Rembrandt knew he needed forgiveness.
Then there is Salvador Dali, the artist who created The Sacrament of the Last Supper. Although born to devout Catholic parents in Spain, he was an atheist who indulged every outlandish whim, including the throwing of orgies that he called “erotic masses.” Dali returned to his Catholic roots after moving to the United States, but some people questioned his sincerity. Dali may have been motivated more by money than by spirituality, bragging that postcards of his Last Supper sold more copies than did all of the works of Leonardo da Vinci and Raphael combined.
It would be so easy to judge each of these persons. However, my reminder today is that all God has to work with is sinners. The beauty of the Easter message is that God works with sinners – like you and me – to be channels of grace and love. God changes lives.
In A Prophet with Honor: The Billy Graham Story, William Martin says that the primary reason for Dr. Graham's lifelong, phenomenal success and worldwide affection is that Graham has consistently preached the transforming power of a second chance. Billy Graham has consistently preached, as the one lasting solution to all ills in personal and social life, the transforming commitment to Jesus Christ. Martin notes the well-substantiated charge that many of the hundreds of thousands of inquirers who came forward at Graham's crusades were not really first time converts, but rededications. Yet I agree with Martin that this is hardly a criticism of Graham. Is a rededication of one's life to Christ any less momentous than a first-time conversion?
God keeps working with us. No matter how far we have strayed, God does not give up.
Change is rarely easy. I think most counselors would agree that people almost never change. Yet, sometimes, they do change. Change can happen in the lives of people. Negative, complaining people can become positive.
Science of the brain identifies this change as neroplasticity, referring to the ability of the brain to change at any age. The brain remains “plastic,” since it can change in function and structure as it responds to experience. These changes can be for better or worse, because a malleable brain is also a vulnerable one, which explains why war vets can come home from the battlefield quite different from who they were when they left. Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is a neuroplastic disorder caused by the trauma of war that has overwhelmed the brain and rewired it. The hope of neuroplasticity research, however, is that the brain can continue to change. One goal of PTSD therapy is to help good memories layer over and alleviate the bad ones. The adult human brain has approximately 100 billion neurons. Education increases the number of branches among neurons, increasing the volume and thickness of the brain. The brain is like a muscle that needs mental workouts. Learning and brain exercise slow age-related mental decline and even improve brain function. People can improve performance through visualizations because action and imagination often activate the same parts of the brain. When we need to learn a physical skill, mental practice of this skill can produce the same physical changes in the motor system as the physical practice. Experiments have achieved this effect that involved people learning to play the piano, as well as athletes in training.
Long before science proved it, Christian preaching and mission assumed it. Conversion is about rewiring the brain. We can overlay an old way of thinking with a new way of thinking. Yes, the negative, complaining person has made it easy to keep thinking that way by repetition. However, such a person can become positive and affirming by learning a new way to think and act. Conversion has always assumed that such change is possible. For those who have advanced in years, the hope here is that you can teach old dogs new tricks. Thus, we may feel desperately out of touch and in need of a total life change. The story of Paul tells us that God can make such change happen. Yet, most change in human lives explores a different type of plasticity. We may feel doomed to repeat our ineffective and unproductive ways of dealing with relationships or a career. We despair in thinking that our lives will ever become better. We may even wish we could be more even-tempered. We may wish we could live and think more consistently in a spiritual way. God may well be calling us to practice some obedience therapy. Obedience is not my favorite word. Obedience is sometimes tedious and difficult. Yet, the discipline of giving priority to the Word of God, learning to allow the Word to shape us, we become stronger and spiritually more mature. Such obedience will move us away from obsessing about self and toward giving ourselves to the mission and work God has for us to do. Obedience will re-train our brains to cooperate with the purpose of God. In addition, we may need some visualization therapy. We can have times in our lives when we do not see properly. It will help if we can visualize the type of Christian we can be or should be. We may also need some rational or positive self-talk therapy. Our emotions can confuse us and defeat us. These emotions arise from thoughts that, if we take the time to reflect upon them, are clearly distortions of our reality. We need to learn to argue with ourselves, so to speak, in order to retrain the way we think about our reality. We can train our word and our thinking to be acceptable to the Lord (Psalm 19:14). We can train ourselves not to worry, but rather, to offer thanksgiving and petitions to God. We can allow the peace of Christ to guard the way we think and live. We can think upon what is true, honorable, just, pure, pleasing, commendable, excellent, and whatever is worthy of praise (Philippians 4:6-9).
Why can it take human beings so long?
First, we may have difficulty knowing who Jesus is. If you have a relationship with Christ, I grant this may be difficult, for Jesus means everything to you. However, you may have gone through times when you questioned and doubted. I suspect most of us have been there. We keep struggling with what it means for him to be Lord of our lives. We could get quite judgmental of Paul, wondering why he would persecute early followers of Jesus. Yet even the family of Jesus found the behavior of Jesus mystifying.
When his family heard it, they went out to restrain him, for people were saying, "He has gone out of his mind." (Mark 3:21)
Few failures and separations hurt as much as those within family do. When family tells you that what Christians believe is silly or irrational, when family tells you that Christianity is for weak people, thereby calling you weak, the hurt is somehow deeper, and the separation is deeper. Jesus left the security of home and a profitable business to become an itinerant preacher. He took up with a rough crowd of people: smelly anglers, a white-collar crook and a political revolutionary. He started alienating the religious establishment. Observing all this, Jesus' own family asked, "Who is this guy? He is not the Jesus we know!" Jesus' family could only conclude: He has lost his mind. He has gone over the edge. He is out of control. He has gone crazy.
The disciples did not find it easy. They had little faith. They betrayed, denied, and deserted him in the end. They even tried going back to fishing. God did not give up on them.
Do not think it an easy step to take. Is the risen Lord the one to whom you need to give your life? I would not be standing here if I had not said yes to that question. Frankly, as important as the decision I made as a ten-year-old was, I have had to keep saying yes. More times than I care to count, I have gone backward. I have struggled with prayers unanswered. I have struggled with suffering. I do not pretend, however, that the journey has been easy for me – or for you.
The Christian life is more interesting than a mere orderly progression of spiritual development. Our plan for discipleship and spiritual growth might look like a straight line moving upward. The reality, which is often the plan of God, is that we have hills, valleys, and corners around which we cannot see. Further, we often make serious mistakes. We often have profound misunderstanding of what God wants. We sin.
Second, a second chance, early or late in life, is no small thing. It is fittingly ironic that when Saul at last hears and recognizes Jesus as the risen Christ, God strikes him blind. Saul once knew so much about religion, God, and big, important ideas. He knew big, significant people. However, the blinding light on the Damascus Road, renders him, into a little child who must be led by the hand, healed, instructed by the very ones he once thought he was above. Here is a strange path of enlightenment. He made progress in the Christian faith by regression and falling backward.
Peter had to take a step backward. In John 21, Peter goes back to Galilee with other disciples. He went fishing. A stranger appears on the beach and tells them to put their nets on the other side of the boat. They do so, and they catch 153 fish. The beloved disciple recognizes the stranger is Jesus. Peter gets out of the boat and makes his way to the shore. Jesus is already cooking some fish. Then we read these words.
15 When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.” 16 A second time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Tend my sheep.” 17 He said to him the third time, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” And he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep.” (John 21:15-17)
The primary goal is the rehabilitation of Peter, who had denied Jesus (18:17, 25, 27). As Peter denied Jesus three times, so also Jesus gives him three opportunities to state his love for Jesus. Jesus goes on to predict to Peter in veiled form the fact that he would be a martyr for his faithfulness to Jesus and thus glorify God (21:18-19). Notice that in his responses, Peter is unusually humble. While once he gladly boasted of his loyalty to Jesus, even to the point of his own death, Peter now calls on Jesus himself to verify the love that he feels, "You know that I love you." Jesus is bestowing upon Peter a leadership role, that of a shepherd.
In every big move in life, there must be detachment from old certainties and securities. We do not like that. We want to be big, in control, calling the shots. A second chance, early or late in life, is not cheap.
Joe Garagiola tells about a time when Stan Musial came to the plate in a critical game. As one of the great hitters of the game, Musial was at the peak of his career. The opposing pitcher in the game was young and nervous. Garagiola, as the catcher, called for a fastball and the pitcher shook his head; Joe signaled for a curve and again the pitcher shook him off. He then asked for one of the pitcher's specialties and still the pitcher hesitated. Therefore, Joe went out to the mound for a conference. He said, "I've called for every pitch in the book. What do you want to throw?" "Nothing," he replied. "I just want to hold on to the ball as long as I can."
Have you ever felt like that pitcher? You know your time has come. You know you need to make the big move in your life. Yet, fear takes over. You do not act. Do not let today be like that.
I conclude with a prayer.
Well, Lord, something about conversion and calling can feel intimidating. The words offend some people. Some people infer more than we intend. We might even think of other people who have told us of a powerful experience. We listened patiently, but with some skepticism in the back of our minds.
Yet, the words carry with them some beauty as well. Both words imply a second chance. The wrong path down which we have traveled is not our final path. It can become nothing more than a moment, a teachable one, of course, but a moment, nonetheless. One recognizes the need to find a new path in life. We may feel growing dissatisfaction and doubt with the present. We may have hope for something other than what we now experience that pulls us forward. Such changes can be costly, Lord, for ourselves and for those closest to us.
We are mindful, Lord, that you like to give people second chances. We think of Adam, who sinned in the garden. We think of King David of Israel. We think of the Apostle Peter, who denied and abandoned Jesus. We think of the apostle Paul, who encountered you in a new way on his journey to persecute some of the first Christians. They all needed second chances.
The one who offers this prayer needs a second chance. Maybe you need one as well.
I also conclude with a benediction.
God, as we go from this place,
Grant us to be silent before you that we might hear you;
At rest in you, that you may work in us;
Open to you, that you may enter;
Empty before you, that you may fill us;
Let us be still and know that you are our God.
Here are some historical considerations.
Josephus notes that in 37-41 AD, Caligula is Roman Emperor. There were popular demonstrations in Jerusalem from 39-41 against his attempt to erect a statue of himself in the Temple. It was the largest, most widespread popular outcry during the whole period until the revolt of 66. He decided to place a statue of himself as Zeus incarnate and ordered Petronius, his Syrian legate, to do so by taking two legions into Judea. This was 12,000 soldiers, half the number stationed at Antioch. He put his troops into quarters for winter 39-40 at Ptolemais on the Phoenician seacoast due west of Galilee. Both Josephus and Philo record a massive unarmed and nonviolent refusal to cooperate with Petronius based on a declared willingness to die rather than give in. Petronius gave in. Agrippa I persuaded Caligula to abandon the statue project. The Jewish masses initiated this protest, and thus, the Jewish elite had nothing to with this protest.
Historians are certain that Paul was in Arabia and Damascus for three years after his conversion, and thus, we are concerned with the years 33-36 AD. Ludemann notes that verses 19b-20 may derive from Luke in their entirety. It is part of the tradition that Paul preached in Damascus. However, the assumption is only indirectly supported by the present text, which has a redactional stamp throughout, and arises mainly out of historical considerations.
Paul did preach in Damascus and had to escape, though Paul says the reason was King Aretas IV. Historically, Paul gives his own testimony that he had to escape from Damascus. In II Corinthians 11:32-33, the real reason for the escape was the ethnarch of King Aretas IV of the Nabataeans, who reigned from 9 BC to 39 AD, rather than some Jews. The reasons for the action against Paul are not clear.
Here is the portion of this passage with which the historian can be reasonably certain.
{19b After (Saul) had spent only a few days with the disciples in Damascus, he began preaching in the synagogues ... 23 (After three years in Arabia and Damascus, King Aretas IV sought to kill him). 24 They were keeping watch at the gates ... 25 but the disciples took him by night and let him down from the wall, lowering him in a basket.}
[1] C. S. Mann ("Saul and Damascus" Expository Times 99 [1988], 331-334)
[2] Pannenberg, Jesus: God and Man, 92-93; Systematic Theology, Volume I, 354.
[3] Some scholars believe verses 10-14 are an anti-Paul text, but such is not a necessary interpretation.
[4] (Krister Stendahl, “Call Rather than Conversion,” in Paul among Jews and Gentiles [Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1976], 7-23, especially 7-10.
[5] (James D.G. Dunn, The Acts of the Apostles: Narrative Commentaries [Valley Forge Pa.: Trinity International Publishing, 1996], 119-120, 124]
No comments:
Post a Comment