The Changed Religious Man (Changed #3)

I want to start with a question, and it doesn’t matter where you are spiritually. Some of you follow Jesus. Some of you are wrestling with doubt. Some of you aren’t followers at all and you’re here because you’re searching. Either way, you can answer this.

Think of a person — don’t say the name out loud, in case they’re sitting next to you — who is the least likely person you know to ever become a Christian. Maybe someone famous. Maybe someone you know personally. Get them in your head.

Now think about why they top your list. What puts them at number one on your “will never follow Jesus” list?

When people share those reasons out loud, you hear the same categories. Their lifestyle — just the way they’re living. Their political convictions. They belong to a different religion. They’re a militant atheist. There are plenty of other reasons, but nearly everybody can name somebody.

Here’s the thing. If you had been living in first-century Palestine during the years we’re studying in Acts, and someone asked you that question, today’s main character would have topped your list.

Saul of Tarsus.

Saul was a fiercely zealous Jew, well on his way to becoming one of the most influential Jewish leaders of his generation. He believed the Jewish people proclaiming that Jesus was the long-prophesied Messiah — and that He had risen from the dead — were out of their minds. It was heresy. It was wrong. And it would ruin the faith. So he hated Christians.

He would have been at the top of nearly everyone’s list. And today we’re going to watch God take that list and tear it up.

Younger Brothers and Older Brothers

Open to Acts 9. We’re finishing a short series inside our study of Acts that we’ve called Changed, where we’ve watched three people transformed by the gospel.

Two weeks ago we met the man most people know as the Ethiopian eunuch — though we discovered he wasn’t actually from Ethiopia. He was from what’s now modern Sudan, part of the Nubian kingdom, and he was a wealthy, influential government official. God brought the gospel to him and changed him, and tradition holds that he carried it home, where the church took root and spread across Africa.

Last week we watched Philip preach in Samaria, where a pagan magician named Simon heard the gospel and believed — then slipped back into old patterns of thinking, and God confronted and rebuked him. Which was God’s way of saying, I love you, and I intend to keep changing you.

Most Christians would look at those two and call them “lost” — the word we borrow from Jesus talking about lost sheep. If we mapped their stories onto the parable of the prodigal son, both of them are younger brothers.

If you don’t know that parable, Jesus tells it in Luke 15. A wealthy father has two sons. The younger one is tired of living under his father’s authority and wants to experience life, so he asks for his inheritance early. Which is remarkably rude — it amounts to saying, Dad, I wish you were dead. I’d rather have your money than your presence. But for the sake of the story, the father divides his wealth, and the younger son goes off and squanders it on wild living.

Meanwhile the older brother stays home. He’s faithful. He works hard. He’s the good kid. So you can understand why he’s furious when the younger one comes crawling back and Dad throws him a hero’s welcome. This kid burned through a fortune and gets treated like royalty, while the son who did everything right never even got a dinner party with his friends.

Jesus tells that story so we’ll understand the Father’s heart. God does not delight in the sin of His children — but He delights in the return of His children. So when sinners like a Nubian official or a Samaritan magician put their faith in Jesus, God celebrates. There is a party in heaven, because He delights in His children coming home.

Both of those men were made in the image of God. Sin had carried them far from the Father. But when the gospel reached them, they saw the Father’s goodness and came back as younger brothers.

Today’s main character is an older brother.

He believes God loves him because he’s good. Because he’s faithful. Because he does his duty. And what we’re about to discover is that he is every bit as lost as the younger brother.

Breathing Threats and Murder

But 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 belonging to the Way, men or women, he might bring them bound to Jerusalem.

We met Saul very briefly at the end of chapter 7, during the martyrdom of Stephen.

Stephen was one of the church’s first deacons, out preaching that Jesus was the Messiah and had risen from the dead. It enraged the religious leadership, so they arrested him and put him on trial — chapter 7 is essentially the trial transcript. And at the end, when he presses them on the resurrection, he turns on them: how can you be so hard-hearted as to reject what has happened?

That so infuriated them that they dragged him outside to stone him. And Luke notes almost in passing that a young man named Saul was watching.

Look at the detail. The men about to commit murder were wearing an inner garment and an outer cloak, and they stripped off the outer cloak so they could throw more freely. And verse 58 says they laid those garments at the feet of Saul.

That tells you something. Saul was already a figure of consequence. The very first time he’s mentioned, he’s already being deferred to. And in the first verse of chapter 8, we learn he approved of the killing.

Stephen had done nothing wrong. All he did was proclaim that Jesus rose from the dead. In Saul’s judgment, that warranted execution.

The problem, from Saul’s point of view, was that Stephen wasn’t alone. The church at that point numbered somewhere between five and six thousand people. So when Stephen was killed, a great persecution broke out — which is exactly why we watched Philip fleeing Jerusalem, ending up in Samaria and then on a desert road.

People scattered everywhere. And I suspect some fled to Damascus, an important city about a hundred and fifty miles north-northeast of Jerusalem — ten days to two weeks on foot. Far enough to feel safe.

But once they got there, they couldn’t keep quiet. They had to tell their fellow Jews: God has fulfilled His prophecies. He sent His one and only Son. The Messiah came, died on a cross, and rose from the dead.

Some who heard it thought they were insane, and word made its way back to the leadership in Jerusalem. Saul heard it and concluded these people were just as dangerous as Stephen had been. So he secured authorization from the chief priests to travel there, arrest anyone proclaiming Jesus as Messiah, haul them back to Jerusalem for trial, and — if they wouldn’t recant — imprison or execute them.

He’s an older brother who won’t even wait for the younger brothers to come home. He’s going out to drag them back, because they’re squandering everything and ruining the Father’s name. That’s what a good older brother does.

Do you see why he’d top the list?

Arrested by Jesus

Now as he went on his way, he approached Damascus, and suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. And falling to the ground, he heard a voice saying to him, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” And he said, “Who are you, Lord?” And he said, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. But rise and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do.”

The men who were traveling with him stood speechless, hearing the voice but seeing no one. Saul rose from the ground, and although his eyes were opened, he saw nothing. So they led him by the hand and brought him into Damascus. And for three days he was without sight, and neither ate nor drank.

Sit inside this from Saul’s point of view.

He has spent his life trying to be faithful. He’s zealous. He received the finest Jewish education available. He likely has the Torah — the first five books of the Hebrew Scriptures — memorized, along with substantial portions of the prophets. This man is brilliant. He knows his faith cold. And he has been a model older brother.

And in a single instant he discovers he has been catastrophically wrong.

Worse — he has misunderstood the heart of the Father. Just as the younger brother was wrong to squander everything and wish his father dead, Saul the older brother has misread his Father just as badly. And it all comes crashing down.

Imagine the depression. The bewilderment. The vertigo of realizing you are completely lost.

And notice that Jesus has mercy on him. Go into the city and wait.

So he goes, and he waits. The light was bright enough to blind him, so he waits in darkness. He’s so stunned and undone that he doesn’t eat or drink. He has no idea what’s coming.

He waits, with questions, for three days.

Have you ever had to wait like that? Ever found yourself wondering what’s next, what God is doing, what is even happening? That’s Saul in this moment.

And notice something else if you’ve been with us through this series: God has dealt with each of these three people completely differently. He didn’t meet the Nubian official in a blinding light — He sent Philip. He didn’t make Simon wait three days — Simon heard the gospel, believed, was baptized, and was later confronted through Peter.

God will work uniquely in you as well. Just because your story looks different from someone else’s doesn’t make it worse or better. God knows you. He loves you. He will work in you in the way only He knows is best. God’s ways vary as much as fingerprints, so don’t expect your story to sound like anyone else’s.

God knew that what was best for Saul was three days in the dark.

Ananias

Now there was a disciple at Damascus named Ananias. The Lord said to him in a vision, “Ananias.” And he said, “Here I am, Lord.” And the Lord said to him, “Rise and go to the street called Straight, and at the house of Judas look for a man of Tarsus named Saul, for behold, 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 at Jerusalem. And here he has authority from the chief priests to bind all who call on your name.”

But the Lord said to him, “Go, for he is a chosen instrument of mine to carry my name before the Gentiles and kings and the children of Israel. For I will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name.”

So Ananias departed and entered the house. And laying his hands on him he said, “Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus who appeared to you on the road by which you came 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 he regained his sight. Then he rose and was baptized.

Three things here.

First — can you blame Ananias? Saul has been ravaging the church. He is in Damascus specifically to arrest people. You can hardly fault a man for hesitating when obedience might be a death sentence.

I find it almost funny. Ananias essentially says, “God — do You know who this is? That’s the man at the top of the ‘never follow Jesus’ list.”

And Jesus says, in effect: Yes. I know. I shredded the list. I’m changing this man, and he will become My apostle to the Gentiles, to kings, and to the children of Israel.

Second — Ananias obeys anyway. Despite the hesitancy. Despite the doubts. He goes.

Is there something you’re hesitant about right now? Maybe you know deep down that God wants you to go to a certain person. Maybe you know you need to delete that off your phone, or cut that out of your life, or pull back from something. Maybe you know you need to step into something and you keep stalling — because you like what you have, or because even if you don’t like it, it’s familiar and comfortable, and you know it isn’t good for you but it’s what you’re used to.

Ananias was hesitant and he went. Will you obey even while you’re still uncertain?

Third — notice how fast the baptism comes. The scales fall, and he is baptized.

This is a pattern. The Nubian official hears the gospel explained from Isaiah 53, sees water in the desert, and asks, “What prevents me from being baptized?” Philip preaches in Samaria and those who believe are baptized, including Simon. And now Saul — the moment he can see, he’s baptized.

If you follow Jesus and you haven’t been baptized, don’t wait. Follow the biblical pattern. God wants this for you, because it will be a genuinely significant moment: a public declaration that your life belongs to Him.

Two Corrections

There are a couple of things in Saul’s story that fall into the category of Bible trivia — the sort of thing Bible nerds like me find delightful.

I try to keep trivia out of sermons, because trivia fills your head and the point of preaching is to reach your heart. God is more concerned with who you are and what He wants to do through you than with stocking your brain with facts. Facts are good; learn them. But as Scripture says, knowledge puffs up while love builds up. God wants to build your life.

Today, though, I need two pieces of trivia, because both correct a common error and both open onto something that actually matters.

Saul did not become Paul.

This is a small pet peeve of mine. Everyone knows this Saul of Tarsus is the same man we know as the Apostle Paul. And I’ve now heard it twice in one week — once in a book I consulted and once in a sermon I listened to — a pastor saying, “and Saul became Paul.”

Look at the text. It never says that.

This is not like Genesis 17, where God renames Abram as Abraham. This is simply the way Mike is also Michael and Beth is also Elizabeth. Saul is the Hebrew form of his name; Paul is the Greek form.

The confusion arises because we meet him as Saul while he’s trying to destroy the church, and then read about Paul once God is using him to expand the kingdom. But it makes perfect sense. While he’s living in Jerusalem in a fully Hebrew context, people call him by the Hebrew form. Once he sets out on missionary journeys into Greek-speaking regions, people naturally use the Greek form — and Luke follows suit.

So God did not change his name in that moment.

But God absolutely changed his nature. Second Corinthians 5:17 says that if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation — the old has passed away, the new has come. That is precisely what happened here. The legalistic self-righteousness he’d been living on was forgiven. He became a new creation, a son of God, with a new nature.

And if you are in Christ, the same is true of you. You may, like Simon last week, still slip back into old patterns of thinking. But God intends to keep changing you and building that new creation up.

Saul did not immediately become a leader.

Some people assume that in this moment Saul vaults into church leadership overnight, and it’s because of what comes next:

And taking food, he was strengthened. For some days he was with the disciples at Damascus. And immediately he proclaimed Jesus in the synagogues, saying, “He is the Son of God.” And all who heard him were amazed and said, “Is not this the man who made havoc in Jerusalem of those who called upon this name? And has he not come here for this purpose, to bring them bound before the chief priests?” But Saul increased all the more in strength, and confounded the Jews who lived in Damascus by proving that Jesus was the Christ.

One commentary I read this week said Saul never went to seminary and never took a course, and yet immediately became a witness.

Yes and no.

Yes, he immediately became a witness. He eats, regains his strength, spends time with the believers, and ends up in the synagogue — where Jews gather — and when he hears people refuting the resurrection he cannot help himself. Actually, I met this Jesus on the road. He appeared to me. He did rise.

But “he never went to seminary” isn’t quite right either. Remember what he is: an exhaustively trained Jewish scholar with much of the Torah memorized, who knows the Hebrew Scriptures and knows which passages are the messianic prophecies. Now, as a follower of Jesus sealed with the Holy Spirit, he begins to realize those texts were pointing at Jesus the whole time. I couldn’t see it before. Now I do. God used every bit of that background.

What he did not do was step immediately into leading the church.

We do this constantly. Someone seems brilliant, so we hand them leadership. Someone has money, or influence, or charisma, so we put them out front.

God didn’t. As we keep working through Acts, Saul disappears for a while. And when he finally sets out on his first missionary journey in chapter 13, somewhere between ten and fifteen years have passed.

I point this out because I’ve met many people who, in the excitement of coming to faith — and it is a wonderful moment — conclude they must immediately go into full-time ministry, become a pastor, start preaching.

Not never. But God delights in slow-cooking people, because He wants to savor the work and do something deep. There were still character issues in Saul that needed dealing with. He could intellectually dismantle anyone who denied the resurrection, and he was still not ready at the character level to lead a church and plant churches.

So some of you are in a season where God is working deep in you precisely because He intends to work greatly through you. Don’t chase the limelight. Let Him work.

But at the same time — don’t turn “I’m in a season of growth” into an excuse to not serve, not help, not make a difference. God can and wants to use you now. It may not be a prominent leadership role yet, and that’s exactly how He gets you there.

We need leaders here. And most leadership arrives through simple serving — in the cafe, with the kids, as a greeter, on the worship team. The slow work God does in those places matures you until you find yourself leading a growth group, meeting one-on-one, discipling someone, stepping into eldership, beginning to teach.

Jesus said the harvest is plentiful but the laborers are few. God doesn’t need you. He wants you. And He wants to work deeply within you.

He clearly chose Saul. He could have used anyone. And this man who set out for Damascus to arrest followers of Jesus instead found himself arrested by Jesus.

The One Sheep

One last thing. Earlier I mentioned the prodigal son from Luke 15. But right at the start of that same chapter, Jesus tells a shorter parable that draws out what we most need today:

What man of you, having a hundred sheep, if he has lost one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the open country, and go after the one that is lost, until he finds it? And when he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders, rejoicing. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and his neighbors, saying to them, “Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.” Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.

Try this. Imagine you have a hundred pennies and you lose one. Ninety-nine left. You’re not spending your afternoon hunting a penny.

Make it a hundred dollars and you lose a dollar. Still ninety-nine dollars. Probably not worth the search.

Make it a million dollars — are you going to go looking for the missing ten thousand? Now maybe.

Make it a billion. Will you go find the missing ten million? Almost certainly.

Make it a trillion. That one percent is ten billion dollars. Nobody shrugs at that.

The higher the value, the more certainly you go after the one.

To God, human beings are worth vastly more than a trillion dollars. Do you know what they’re worth? The blood of Jesus.

That’s why the Good Shepherd leaves the ninety-nine to find the one. To find the Sauls. To find the Nubian officials. To find the Simons. To find you.

He was willing to leave His throne in heaven, take on human flesh, live inside this painful world, experience all of it, and die a sinner’s death though He had never done anything wrong — because He wanted you. You were worth it.

So if you’re here today and you don’t follow Jesus, hear this: that is how much God loves you. You are the lost sheep, and He is willing to give up anything and everything to come get you.

And He does not care whether you’ve been the younger brother living wild and selfish, or the older brother trying to prove you have it all together. He wants you.

Will you give Him your life?

Most people mark that moment in prayer, confessing their sin. First John 1:9 says that if we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. So come to Him, confess, and let Him cleanse you and change you.

And for those of you who did this long ago — this is a celebration. Remember what God did for you through the cross, and the lengths He went to in order to come find you.