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Acts 9:1-20
The first time we are introduced to the Apostle Paul in the New Testament, he was not an apostle and was not known as Paul. His name was Saul, and his first appearance was as a bystander at the stoning of Stephen, who is considered the first Christian martyr. We are told that Saul did not participate in the act but approved of the killing. The next chapter tells us “Saul was ravaging the church by entering house after house; dragging off both men and women, he committed them to prison.” Saul was not just a blood-thirsty vigilante, however. Saul was devoted to protecting his religious faith and tradition, and he saw the Jesus movement as a threat to everything he held dear. He believed his mission was on behalf of God. .
Then we get to chapter 9 and our reading for today, verses 1-20.
Meanwhile Saul, still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord, went to the high priest and 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. Now as he was going along and approaching Damascus, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” He asked, “Who are you, Lord?” The reply came, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. But get up and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do.” The men who were traveling with him stood speechless because they heard the voice but saw no one. 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. For three days he was without sight, and neither ate nor drank.
Now there was a disciple in Damascus named Ananias. The Lord said to him in a vision, “Ananias.” He answered, “Here I am, Lord.” 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, 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.” But Ananias answered, “Lord, I have heard from many about this man, how much evil he has done to your saints in Jerusalem; and here he has authority from the chief priests to bind all who invoke your name.” But 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; I myself will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name.” So 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.” And immediately something like scales fell from his eyes, and his sight was restored. Then he got up and was baptized, and after taking some food, he regained his strength. For several days he was with the disciples in Damascus, and immediately he began to proclaim Jesus in the synagogues, saying, “He is the Son of God.”
There are four pieces of this story I want to highlight. The very first verse tells us that Saul was “breathing threats and murder against the disciples” of Jesus. What does it mean to breathe threats and murder? Not just speak them, but BREATHE them … as if threats and murder are part of your very being … as if that which keeps you alive is the destruction of another.
And then, “suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, ‘Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?’ He asked, ‘Who are you, Lord?’” It may seem strange to include that salutation. Saul addressed the voice as Lord because he recognized a theophany when he saw one. A theophany is an encounter with God, and Saul undoubtedly would have known about similar encounters from his studies of the scripture. Saul’s use of the word Lord “is not yet a confession of faith in Jesus but an honest query of a devout Jew who understands the significance of his experience from reading Scripture.”[1] The answer was: “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting.” The answer was not: “I am Jesus, whose followers you are persecuting.” After all, Jesus once said, “Whatever you do unto the least of these, you do unto me.”
I said that I wanted to draw attention to four details from this story. The first is that Saul breathed threats and murder; the second is that Jesus so identified with those in need that he WAS the persecuted.
Now let’s take a quick look at Ananias. God appeared to Ananias in a vision, telling him to go seek out Saul and lay hands on him to restore his sight. At first Ananias balked because Saul’s reputation had definitely preceded him. But God told him to “Get up and go,” and so he did, even though he had no logical reason to believe that it was safe to do so. That’s the third thing I want you to notice. And the fourth is this: “When Saul finally can see again, who’s the first person he probably sees? It’s precisely the kind of person to whom he’d devoted his life to [eliminating].”[2] Three days before, he would have arrested Ananias and carted him off to Jerusalem in chains. Three days before, he thought the purity of his religion had to be protected from Ananias and everyone like him. Three days before, his religion had closed his heart. And then the scales fell from his eyes. And in just a few more days, he was proclaiming Jesus IN THE SYNAGOGUE, saying, “Jesus is the Son of God.”
Saul went from persecuting followers of Jesus to being a follower of Jesus himself, from persecutor to persecuted. It’s difficult to imagine a more complete transformation. But I do know of one that sounds a little bit like it. An old friend of mine grew up in Mississippi. While in grad school she met another grad student who attended the same church. They were casual friends, went out a time or two. She described him as a nice guy—quiet, smart, well-read. One day he spoke at their church, and he told his story, a story she had not known.
“As an ordinary high school student in the 1960s, Tom Tarrants became deeply unsettled by the social upheaval of the era. In response, he turned for answers to extremist ideology and was soon radicalized. Before long, he became involved in the reign of terror spread by Mississippi’s dreaded White Knights of the Ku Klux Klan, described by the FBI as the most violent right-wing terrorist organization in America.”[3] He quickly moved through the ranks, until he became known as “the most dangerous man in Mississippi.” In what he considered a “righteous” effort to disrupt the Civil Rights Movement, which he believed was a Communist plan to mongrelize the white race, he planted 30 bombs in homes, churches, and synagogues throughout the southern United States. Captured in an FBI sting operation with 19 bullets in his body and impaled on an electric fence, Tom recovered and was sentenced to 30 years in jail. He was determined to get out so that he could continue “God’s mission.”
But God had other intentions. While he was in prison, Tom read widely about philosophy and various religions. And then he decided that he needed to read the Bible, not as it had been quoted to him, but for himself. Meanwhile, the wife of the FBI officer who organized the sting that captured Tom led a Bible study at the prison, and she and her friends visited Tom. Over time, he was transformed. The scales of racism and hatred fell from Tom’s eyes, and he could see. “God followed me all the way to prison,” he says, “just to set me free.”
The warden allowed him to lead tours of the work camp program, giving him an opportunity to tell his story to thousands of people who came through the prison. He was released years early because the very persons he had attacked vouched for his transformation. He became an informant against the KKK and later became the co-pastor of a multiracial church. He finished his career as the president of the C.S. Lewis Institute. From hatred to love. Redemption.
I wish I were preaching this sermon in chapel because in the chapel service we often talk after the sermon, and I would love to hear what you have to say about these two stories and how they compare. I’d also love to talk with you about how our stories compare. I believe, as many do, that we are at a turning point in the history of our country. It is as if the scales of ignorance have fallen from our national eyes. It’s strange, because George Floyd is certainly not the first innocent unarmed black man to be killed by white police. The deaths of other African American people that are in the news today certainly are not unprecedented. Our eyes have been opened before. But every other time we have seen for a short time and then have basically said, “I don’t want to see this. I don’t want to believe this really exists. I don’t want to know this wasn’t an anomaly. Where are those scales? And how can I put them back on?” My prayer for us as a country, for us as a church, and for us as individuals, is that we won’t be able to do that this time. My prayer is that we won’t be able to “unsee” what we have seen. Steve has mentioned that he’s had trouble finding copies of anti-racism books for us to use in a small group because everyone is all sold out. The New York Times Bestseller list shows that 8 of the top 10 bestselling books last week were on racism. The tide is turning. We must turn the tide.
The word translated as “scales” that fell from Saul’s eyes could also be translated as “husks” or “empty shells.” I like those translations better because husks and empty shells are dead; they contain no life. And that deadness is what keeps us from seeing.
Now remember those four things I pointed out in the scripture? The first was that Saul was breathing threats and murder, as if his breath—what kept him alive—was the destruction of others. Those of us who are white live within and benefit from a racist system, a system that takes away opportunity, worth, and breath. Others are destroyed because of what benefits us. What will it take for us to learn how to breathe justice and life?
The second thing I asked you to notice was that Jesus said, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting ME?” What you have done to the least of these, you have done to me. That was Jesus, with a knee on his neck.
The third thing I asked you to notice was God telling Ananias to “get up and go,” even though he didn’t understand what he was doing, even though he didn’t know for sure it was safe. We’ve been told the need—now we’ve got to get up and go.
And finally I asked you to notice that the first person Saul could see after his blindness was the very type of person he would have arrested and hauled off to prison. He didn’t know he needed salvation, and even if he had, he never would have expected salvation to come through someone so different from him. If our eyes are to stay opened, we need to listen to those who are different. We need to listen to those who have been affected by the system that harasses, persecutes, and kills.
Now, for those keeping track, yes, I have preached on racism three weeks in a row. And no, the focus of every sermon moving forward will not be racism. But I pray that it will be a recurring theme because like I said, we need to turn the tide. We need to change our country, starting with ourselves. The scales, the husks, have fallen from our eyes. May they fall from our hearts. May we never try to put them back on.
[1] New Interpreter’s Bible Commentary.
[2] Bratt, Doug. Center for Excellence in Preaching.
[3] https://www.amazon.com/Consumed-Hate-Redeemed-Love-Reconciliation-ebook/dp/B07KDYXJRJ