Acts 9:1-20
Presented May 6th, 2007, by J.D. Kline
The Fifth Sunday of Easter
The New Testament book of Acts tells the unfolding story of the development of the early church, the creation of a radically inclusive community of persons intent upon following in the footsteps of Jesus. In the aftermath of Jesus’ resurrection, you will recall, the early disciples struggled to make sense of that remarkably unexpected event. What could resurrection possibly mean for those first followers of Jesus who, in spite of spending considerable time hearing and participating in Jesus’ ministry, were little prepared for something that simply was not on their “radar?” As the story begins in Acts, the disciples ask the risen Jesus, “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” (Acts 1:6). It is a question that makes it clear that those first followers of Jesus continued to view life from a narrow perspective. Even though the disciples had heard Jesus proclaim a new way of living, including love for one’s enemies, they held firm to their conviction that God’s realm was Israel’s exclusive domain; it was Israel’s, and Israel’s alone.
In response to the disciples’ question, Jesus urges them to remain in Jerusalem until they receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. It is a gift that will begin to move them beyond their narrow bias, for the Spirit, Jesus assures the disciples, will empower them to become Christ’s “witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth” (1:8). But just as their Easter encounter with resurrection caught the disciples off guard, so does the Spirit when it falls upon them on Pentecost. Nevertheless, the first believers soon find themselves living and proclaiming the gospel with new power, with deepened wisdom, with surprising courage. And the church begins to grow and expand in unexpected places and unexpected ways. It is as if a series of ever-expanding concentric circles comes to characterize the church, as not only fellow Jews are drawn to the good news about Jesus, but also Samaritans and unusual seekers such as an Ethiopian eunuch.
All this helps lay the groundwork for Saul’s powerful experience on the road to Damascus. Saul, breathing fire and vengeance as the early church’s chief persecutor, is given authority to travel from Jerusalem to Damascus, where the church has recently begun to take hold. Saul’s authority would allow him to enter the synagogues and arrest any believers in Jesus, bringing them bound back to Jerusalem. But while breathing his own fire, Saul encounters a very different fire. Saul encounters a blinding light from heaven. Later in the book of Acts, Luke has Saul, by then known more familiarly as the apostle Paul, retelling the story several times. In the last telling, in chapter 26, Paul recalls the voice from heaven defining his mission as one of conveying light, “to open the eyes [of the Gentiles] so that they may turn from darkness to light” (26:18). We hear in those words reference to Isaiah who, in speaking to the returning exiles, warns that they ought not define their calling in life too narrowly. The prophet hears God reminding the people,
I am the Lord, I have called you in righteousness,
I have taken you by the hand and kept you;
I have given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations,
to open the eyes that are blind,
to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon,
from the prison those who sit in darkness (Isaiah 42:6-7).And again, the prophet hears God challenging the people,
It is too light a thing that you should be my servant
to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to restore the survivors of Israel;
I will give you as a light to the nations,
that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth (Isaiah 49:6).
Saul hears a similar challenge, urging the very one who had become the chief persecutor of the church to now become a major voice for the fledgling movement following in the ways of Jesus. Ironic—isn’t it?—that one so deeply disturbed by the church’s proclamation that God’s love, embodied in Jesus, is for all manner of people—that this very one is now commissioned to be a primary voice in announcing the reaching-out, reconciling, inclusive ways of God. Saul’s conversion is a critical part of the unfolding story of Acts, this recording of a movement based upon the conviction that God is ushering in a new reality.
A markedly new understanding of mission follows Saul’s frightening encounter with a blinding light and an inquiring voice asking, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” “Why are you out to get me?” (9:4, NRSV, The Message). In his book Living the Resurrection Eugene Peterson reminds us that there are two very different experiences of fear highlighted in the Scriptures. There is a fear that incapacitates us for dealing with God—indeed, this fear is crippling, inhibiting our dealings with all of life. It is this kind of fear that leads the writer of 1 John to make the powerful affirmation, “Perfect love casts out fear” (1 John 1:18). It is this kind of fear that leads the Scripture writers with some frequency to record the admonition, “Fear not;” “Do not be afraid.”
But there is a second kind of fear, asserts Peterson—a fear “that pulls us out of our preoccupation with ourselves, our feelings, or our circumstances into a world of wonder. It pulls us out of ourselves into the very action of God.” This is the holy fear Saul displays when crying out in response to the blinding light and mysterious voice, “Who are you, Lord?” (Acts 9:5).
As I was growing up I recall hearing with some frequency the admonition, “Go in the fear of the Lord.” As a young person, I found it to be a disturbing image. Now I recognize that it was a way of inviting us, “Walk in the ways of wonder, mystery, and awe. Open yourselves to God’s astonishing ways. Experience the wonder of life, the mystery of God’s astounding grace. Recognize that life is not all about you; there is so much more to be experienced.” But because of the disquieting ways I heard this phrase, the fear of the Lord, when I was younger, I find myself avoiding using it as I do ministry now. It is so easily misunderstood. So many people carry such unhealthy images of God—of an angry and fearful God ever on the watch for us to trip up. Some portray the very death of Jesus as this angry God’s thirst for vengeance, rather than as an integral part of Jesus’ ministry and as an expression of an astounding love that knows no limits. Sadly, many find the very notion of connecting with God a terrorizing possibility, so schooled have they been in this imagery of God as an angry and vengeful Being.
Could it be that a primary task of the church’s Christian education ministry for today is to help people let go of these unhealthy images of God? Perhaps it is a matter of relearning who God is, of re-encountering God. Peterson suggests that when the Scripture writers speak of the fear of the Lord, it “is fear with the scary element deleted.” And then Peterson affirms,
Fear-of-the-Lord is the stock biblical term for this sudden or cultivated awareness that the presence or revelation of God introduces into our lives. We are not the center of our existence. We are not the sum total of what matters. We don’t know what’s going to happen next.
Fear-of-the-Lord keeps us on our toes with our eyes open. Something is going on around here, and we don’t want to miss it. Fear-of-the-Lord prevents us from thinking that we know it all. And it therefore prevents us from closing off our minds or our perceptions from what is new. Fear-of-the-Lord prevents us from acting presumptuously and therefore destroying or violating some aspect of beauty, truth, or goodness that we don’t [yet] recognize or understand.
Surely this was Saul’s experience on the road to Damascus, and in the days and years of learning that followed. In the aftermath of that transforming experience, Saul spent considerable time seeking to make sense of the experience and how to integrate it into his life and ministry, allowing that experience to change his heart from the inside out. Along the way, key persons brought spiritual wisdom and discernment to Saul, beginning with Ananias, an otherwise unknown follower of Jesus who has a vision of his own. In the vision Ananias hears the Lord urging him to go to Saul and to pray that Saul might regain sight. Even though Saul’s reputation as violent persecutor of the church had preceded him, Ananias nevertheless trusts God and does as he is told, thereby playing a key role in Saul’s transformation.
We too, as fellow members of the body of Christ, have sometimes unexpected opportunities to touch the lives of one another, to play a role in one another’s spiritual transformation and growth, to support and challenge one another as we question, as we grapple with a sense of wonder and mystery in life, as we seek new understandings and new levels of truth, as we find ourselves being transformed from the inside out.
The God who is in the business of making all things new—this God invites us, even now, to move beyond self-preoccupation, to discover new power, new hope, new possibilities for life. Life can indeed be transformed, as we encounter the One who is able to give us a new identity, changing us from the inside out.