NOTES for Act 9:1-20

Saul became one of those in whom Christ’s words to His disciples were fulfilled: “...whoever kills you will think that he is offering service to God” (John 16:2). Saul’s zeal was zeal for God, but it was directed along a false and criminal path. When evil is committed, it is difficult to say that the perpetrator “meant well,” yet even in such lamentable circumstances one should pay attention to the motives behind actions. Saul did want to serve God, and it must have been for this reason that He Himself intervened so that Saul’s desire could be fulfilled on the true path.

With what pain these words must have been spoken to Saul: 'Saul, Saul! Why are you persecuting Me?' The Lord is saddened to see His 'chosen vessel' directing all his efforts toward fighting Him. God had chosen Saul for His service, it appears, long before, and kept waiting for him finally to come to Him. He saw Saul, as He sees every other disciple, long before the first meeting with him (see the story of Nathanael's calling - John 1:43-49), so at this meeting the Lord is not 'getting acquainted' with a person as if He had never known him.

Meeting the Lord, a person suddenly realizes that he has been seen and heard, that the One who seems not to know him personally is deeply concerned with what he does and how he thinks. Christ, appearing to Saul, simply speaks to him sadly about the fact that what is in his heart does not bring God joy. And this personal address, this address by name, proves enough for mighty Saul to be broken and soon cease to exist - the 'old man' Saul becomes the 'new man' Paul (see Eph 4:22-24). Thus God's purpose for Saul-Paul is fulfilled.

But each of us is precious to the Lord in our own way. As the apostle Paul will later write about this: 'God arranged the members, each one in the body, as He chose' (see 1 Cor 12:12-18). And the Lord has a purpose for each of us - and each of us is called to strive with all our strength toward its fulfillment.

They say usually: Christianity is a voluntary thing. It is all about man’s free choice here: to accept or not, to go or not. And suddenly, upon meeting with the resuscitated, sounds: you can’t kick against the pricks! "But how then with the freedom of choice, goodwill, deliberated acceptance et cetera, without which Christianity cannot be? Or does the Rescuer make an exception for Saul (who will be later called Apostle Paul)? Maybe, yes. After all, Saul showed so much enthusiasm in his opposition to the Church, no person showed himself as much as he did. He is the one, who was ready to pursue Christians everywhere.

Christians were persecuted in all times, and in all the times most of the persecutors were led not by the thirst to defend the truth, but by profit, interest, mostly personal, more rarely public or from the State, as they understood it. But Saul began his crusade against the Church in order to protect God against those he considered as His enemies. Such crusade can’t be stopped by any human strength, at least because the one who carries it out, acts in the name of God.

He doesn’t deceive himself, nor the others, he is really mistaken, without using trickery and without trying to run away from the truth. Then God Himself comes for a meeting with him, comes out in the person of the One, Who Saul was ready to consider as liar, madman, anyone, but only not the One Who He is really.

And the crusade against the Church becomes suddenly a crusade in the name of the Church; the persecutor becomes the faithful witness and the missionary. There is nothing surprising here: Saul, becoming Paul, really saw what he was speaking about. He changed neither himself, nor God; he just understood where he should go. And when he understood, he went without hesitations. On the road leading to the Kingdom.

The words of the risen Christ, whom Paul met on the Damascus road, make a twofold impression. On the one hand, everything is simple and clear: it is useless to kick against the goads, God is in any case stronger than a human being, and it is not for a human being, even one as gifted in every respect as Paul, to resist the Kingdom entering the world. And yet: are there so few people resisting it? Does Christ appear to all of them as He appeared to Paul? The answer is obvious. Only one question remains: why is it so? Can the Risen One not appear to every doubter and even every opponent, so that, having run into Him as into the goad, the person would be convinced and turn from an opponent into a faithful follower, as happened with Paul?

If we consider this question, to use a modern expression, from a technical point of view, there is no problem here. The problem lies elsewhere: in a person’s spiritual choice and in the freedom of his will. The Kingdom cannot be imposed by force; it can only be accepted voluntarily. And not because an unbelieving person cannot see it, for if God wills, anyone will see the Kingdom, but because the structure of the Kingdom is formed by relationships of love that bind its inhabitants with God and with Christ, all of them with one another, and finally Christ Himself with His heavenly Father. Here one cannot get anywhere without goodwill: one cannot be made loving by force, and it is impossible to love against one’s will.

But what then about Paul, who ran into Christ and His love as into the goad? Where is freedom here? At first glance it seems that in this case there is no question of any freedom, if not for one “but”: Paul, while still Saul, had already made his choice. A choice in favor of God, the Torah, and the path of righteousness, as he understood them, of course. Now God only had to correct his ideas about Himself, about the Messiah, about the Torah, and about the path of righteousness. And He does this, quickly and decisively, in keeping with the character and personal qualities of the one whose path He wants to set straight. Having become Paul, Saul changed radically, qualitatively: he was joined to the life of that Kingdom about which previously he could only dream. But his spiritual vector remained the same; in this respect he did not betray himself. He only walked his path to the end, and at the end found what he had been seeking: the Messiah and the Kingdom.

In these words the path to Christ of almost every person is briefly set out. An encounter with Him is always unexpected; we do not recognize the God whom we seem to be seeking, without whom we are tormented and suffer. Paul was sure that he was defending the truth from those who had gone astray and fallen away; he was going to defend his own God. And when God addressed him, Paul asked the one question to which every person seeks an answer. Who are You, Lord? Who are You? Cosmic energy, a heap of idols that are easy and convenient to worship, or perhaps something abstract and distant, not involved in the life of the world in general or of a particular person in particular? Who is God? This is what troubles and disturbs a person.

Paul was the first to receive the answer in its simplest and most guileless form. God has nothing to hide from us; He is ready to reveal Himself: Jesus, whom we carefully and consistently persecute, whom we do not want to recognize. At that time a person needed living testimony in order to believe, and even now this is one of the simplest ways to tell a person about Christ. But now, when the Bible is available almost everywhere, how often people refuse the primary source so that under no circumstances will they hear: "I am Jesus."

We try to find any other answer to the most important question, putting all our strength into it. It is hard to kick against the goads, the Lord says. Not merely hard, but unbearably difficult; yet with a persistence worthy of a better use, we try to find a path where there is no place for God who became Man, was crucified, died, and rose again, God who comes to each person and says, "I am Jesus." And yet, if while following Paul's path we accepted this answer as he did, the world would look completely different.

The way to Christ for practically every person is briefly exposed in these words. Meeting with Him is always unexpected; we don’t recognize God, Who it seems, we look for, without Whom we are tormented and without whom we suffer. Paul was sure that he protects truth from astray and abandoners, He went to defend his God. And when God addressed him, he asked this unique question, which every person looks for the answer. Who are thou, Lord? Who are Thou? World’s energy, a mob of idols, which is easy and more comfortable to worship, or maybe something abstract and distant, not participating in the life of the world in general and of a concrete person in particular? Who is God – that’s what disturbs and worries man. Paul is the first to receive the answer in his simplest and most artless aspect. God has nothing to hide from us, He is ready to manifest Himself - Jesus, whom we studiously and consistently persecute, whom we don’t want to acknowledge. In that period, a lively testimony was necessary for man to believe, and today also it is one of the simplest ways to tell somebody about Christ. But now that the Bible is accessible practically everywhere, how often people forgo the genuine source in order not to listen in any way: "I am Jesus ". We try to find any other answer to the main question, applying to that all our strengths. It is hard to kick against the pricks – says the Lord. Not only hard, unbearably difficult, but we, with obstinacy deserving a better use, are trying to find a way, where there is no place for the God, Who become Man, crucified, died and resuscitated; the God, Who comes to each and says: " I am Jesus ". Although, if going through Paul's way, we accepted this answer quite as he did, the world would have been completely different.

What happened to Shaul on the Damascus road could be described in three words: a meeting with Christ. A meeting in a certain sense the first in the history of the Church, but by no means the last: the experience of such or similar meetings has been described more than once in Christian literature. But Shaul, the future apostle Paul, became the first. No, of course, he was not the first to see the risen Christ. Before him there were other apostles, and not only they. But he was the first who met Him risen after Pentecost.

It turned out that He, in essence, had not gone far away at all. That He can always be nearby, and if we do not always see Him, it is only because with our spiritual sight we cannot look into the depth of the Kingdom. Then He approaches its very boundary, the boundary that separates the Kingdom from the world not yet transfigured. And we see Him and meet Him. Later, having become with His help inhabitants of the Kingdom, we learn to see Him where He is most often, in that depth of the Kingdom which the Bible defines with the words "at the right hand of God" or "at the right hand of the Father." Jesus' meeting with Shaul, who had not yet become either Paul or an apostle, was such a meeting at the boundary. Why with him, the persecutor of the Church?

A hint of an answer may be the fact that Shaul was a disciple of the very Gamaliel who interceded for the apostles in the Sanhedrin. He was a disciple of a man who could in no way be a persecutor of those whom Shaul persecuted. He could not be anyone's persecutor at all: Gamaliel's breadth and openness are comparable with those characteristic of Hillel, the founder of the school to which Gamaliel belonged. What then? Did the disciple fail to assimilate these qualities of his teacher? Hardly, for then Shaul would have left Gamaliel much earlier. Another hint may be Shaul's rather frank account, after he had become Paul and an apostle, of his attempts to realize in his own life the ideal of the living Torah.

We find such an account, for example, in Romans and partly in other Pauline letters as well. It is an account of failed attempts to become perfect. Such failure can drive a person to despair, to a serious spiritual breakdown. It can make a person hard and intolerant, turn an initially open seeker of the way of righteousness into a harsh legalist and rigorist ready to persecute anyone who seems insufficiently orthodox to him.

This, it seems, is what Shaul became after his spiritual failure; otherwise it is difficult to explain how a disciple of Gamaliel could turn into such a fierce and implacable opponent of those whom Gamaliel himself treated quite calmly. But originally Shaul was seeking precisely the way of righteousness, precisely the inner Torah and sanctification in all their fullness. And no one except the One whom Shaul, without knowing Him, hated, could give him this. That is why Jesus Himself came out to meet His fierce hater and persecutor. He, as none of the people did, saw that when Shaul found what he sought, he would cease to be His opponent. He would become Paul, apostle and witness of Christ.

It took a direct appeal from the Lord for Ananias to receive Saul. The human mind finds it difficult to grasp that the change which had taken place in Saul was even possible, but nothing is impossible for God. He can heal and transform the hearts of people whom we are habitually quick to write off as hopeless, saying, “Everything is clear about them.” But nothing is clear to us; everything can be clear only to God.

Faith involves risk. God may not only reveal to us something beyond the bounds of our habitual ideas, but also ask us to do things that seem impossible and unthinkable. The Lord asks Ananias to take just such an apparently unreasonable step, and we see his initial bewilderment. But for him, trust in God is above everything else—above wariness and habitual calculations alike.

How is God's work done? Over the two-thousand-year history of the Church, more has been said and written about this than actual works of God have been done. And with all this, no one has managed to understand it exactly to this day, much less has anyone managed to create a single general theory that would describe the algorithm of divine-human interaction in history.

Why is that? One could simply answer: because the ways of the Lord are inscrutable. And that would certainly be true: God's plans are known to no one except God Himself. But the question is how God interacts with people, and here the situation is somewhat different: insofar as God includes a person in His plan, He reveals this design to him, at least in part.

The point is perhaps something else: the very quality of the relationship between God and man. If everything had been scheduled in advance with God, the situation for His servants would, perhaps, have been simpler in some respects: then it really would be possible to try to develop some classification of possible interactions, not immediately, and over a long time, but the task would be solvable in principle. But the point is that with God, it appears, only the goals are marked out in advance, while the plan for achieving them changes continually according to the developing spiritual situation, or, more simply, according to who has once again said to God another "yes" or another "no."

In any case, classifying this mosaic of possibilities and the options for their realization is, of course, completely unrealistic. What remains is only to listen and hear God, who, having set the task, will certainly indicate the one to whom it can be entrusted. This does not mean, however, that over time a new worker will not replace the former one. And the options may be completely unexpected, at times in no way corresponding to any human ideas.

Who, indeed, could have seriously considered Paul as a preacher of Christ at the time when he appeared in Damascus? Humanly speaking, the most reasonable choice would have been to keep away from him. But Ananias makes a different choice, acting as God commands him to act. And Saul the persecutor becomes Paul, the great witness of Christ and the Kingdom.

How is done the work of God? More were probably said and written by it during two thousand years of the history of the Church, than the works of course were done. And with all this, nobody was able in the accuracy so far to understand it, and especially nobody has really managed to create a generalizing unified theory, which would describe the algorithm of the interactions divine-man in the history. Why so? It might be easy to answer: because the ways of God are inscrutable. And that would be an undoubted truth: God's plans, except Himself, are unknown to anyone. But indeed, it is about the way God cooperates with men, but here the situation is all the same a little bit different: as long as God includes man in His plan, He also opens it to him, at least in part.

Maybe, the problem is all the same in another thing: in the quality of the relationships between God and man. If for God everything was determined beforehand, probably, in some how the situation for His servants would have simplified: then if one could try to develop some kind of classification of the variants of interaction, whether it is not immediately, whether it is during a long period, but the task would be mainly solvable.

But it is in this the problem, the fact that it seems, for God only the goals are beforehand fixed, but that the plan of their realization varies constantly according to the prevailing spiritual situation, or, by speaking more easily, according to the one who once again said to God "yes" or another "no". Be that as it may, to classify this mosaic of possibilities and variants of their realization is of course absolutely unreal. It remains only to listen and to hear God, Who, having fixed the task, will absolutely indicate the one, to whom it could be entrusted.

What, moreover, does not mean that one day, on the place of the worker indicated before will not come a new one. And the variants can be the most unexpected, sometimes not at all in compliance with any human representations. Well, who really could take seriously Paul as a predicator of Christ when he appeared in Damascus! Humanely the most reasonable choice would be to stay far away from him. But Ananias does another choice, acting as God ordered him to act. And the persecutor Saul becomes Paul, a great witness of Christ and the Kingdom.

What is Christian washing (baptism)? Cleansing from sins? Yes, of course: it is rooted in the ritual purifying washings prescribed by the Torah as a most important part of the process of cleansing from sin. But even before Christ's coming, washing was not the only element of the cleansing ritual. The second, no less important element was the purifying sacrifice. Because in Yahwism it was precisely sacrifice that was the main means and main form of communion with God. God's presence overshadowed and sanctified all who took part in the sacrificial meal or simply stood by the altar. This presence cleansed a person from the consequences of committed sin or other uncleanness. Cleansing was not an end in itself; it was the necessary condition of full communion with God, insofar as such communion was possible before Christ's coming.

So it is with Christian washing (baptism): it was only the outward side of what was taking place. Yes, of course, the one washed in the name of Christ is cleansed from the consequences of earlier sins just as the believing Yahwist of former times was cleansed from them. But in addition, the one washed in the name of Christ meets during the washing with Him Himself. He finds himself at the threshold of His Kingdom, into which he can enter and in which from now on he is to live. He touches the life of the Kingdom in the fullness available to him, as one entering, at that moment. And he begins the spiritual path in the Kingdom so that the fullness available to the new inhabitant of the Kingdom may become ever deeper.

That is why one meeting with Christ on the Damascus road was not enough for Saul. That is why he too, for all the depth of what happened to him, needed baptism. And perhaps this is precisely why, after losing his sight at the first meeting with Christ, he regains it after receiving baptism and entering the Kingdom. Jesus Himself took him by the hand and led him into His Kingdom. And therefore into His Church.

Today we read about the conversion of Saul, an event that not only turned his life upside down, but also in many ways determined the course of Christian history. Such conversions do not happen often, but they have happened and continue to happen. In essence, every person sooner or later meets God on his path. This meeting often overturns a person's consciousness in much the same way as happened with Paul. He considered himself a servant of God, but turned out to be His enemy, and the reverse was also true: he thought Jesus was his enemy, but He turned out to be his Lord, his life, his calling.

In fact, such an overturning of consciousness is called repentance (in Greek, "metanoia," a "change of mind"). When a person suddenly sees that his whole life is a persecution of Christ, which he carries out inside himself or among those near and far from him, the mercy of the persecuted Son of God is also revealed to him. He will not only accept him among His disciples, but will also lay on him a new mission: not to tear apart, but to build up Christ's Church.

Shaul's transformation into Paul and into an apostle is marked by the beginning of preaching. Of witness. And Paul begins this preaching immediately after baptism. The persecutor turns into a witness. How did he manage this? Before this he knew nothing about Christianity, about the Church; he had not met or spoken with any of the apostles. In fact, according to his own words in one of his letters, he did not communicate with them much later either.

In short, reasoning in human terms, Shaul, who became Paul, was not prepared for any apostolic ministry. And yet he begins his witness. Today this may seem somewhat strange to us. Not only because Paul was unprepared in the theoretical sense, so to speak: many today also go out to preach in order to bear witness to their own spiritual experience without needing any special knowledge.

But apostolic ministry presupposed witness to Christ, to meetings with Him, to His death and resurrection. Paul was not among those who communed with the risen Jesus during the days separating the Resurrection from the Ascension. It would seem that he could not be a witness, for he did not see with his own eyes what the other apostles saw. But Paul was nevertheless precisely an apostle. A witness. An eyewitness.

Only not of what took place in the days after the Resurrection, but of what happened on the Damascus road with him personally. This meeting made him a witness, and therefore an apostle. This means that apostolic ministry, the ministry of a witness who has seen Christ with his own eyes, is not reduced only to the twelve who were destined to become witnesses of what happened from the Resurrection to the Ascension.

It extends to everyone who has had occasion to meet the Risen One. Wherever and whenever such a meeting may have occurred. And this witness is, in its own way, no less important than the witness of the twelve: it says that the history of the Kingdom continues. It did not end two thousand years ago. Meetings with the King of this Kingdom are possible today as well. Therefore it can continue for us too, if, of course, we want to participate in it.

In today's reading from Acts we see how the twelve apostles do not accept one more future apostle, Paul. In a time of persecution, the Teacher's words that they too would be persecuted surely rise in their memory. Some of them, Peter for example, know very well the price of words. They understand that just as they themselves were able to deny Christ an hour after swearing loyalty to Him, so someone who appears to have become "one of their own" may turn out, when tested, to be an informer. All the more so when this is the kind of person's coming about whom their Lord had warned them: "Indeed, the hour is coming when whoever kills you will think he is offering service to God" (John 16:2).

The apostles, simply because of human fear, forget that their Teacher turns every human weakness upside down and transforms it into a strength that can serve Him. Just as He accepted them despite the fact that they betray Him, though they know Him and know Who He is, so He is free to forgive His own zealous persecutor and make him His great servant.

Saul begins his ministry, and now he has to endure the very same persecution to which he himself had only recently subjected others. Saul was probably ready for this; he may even have regarded what was happening to him as atonement for what he had done. But Saul’s conversion meant trials not only for him, but also for many of his new brothers. Saul’s arrival in the Church put to the test the ability of many of them to forgive a sinner, to show mercy to someone who had repented, and not to hold old sins against him as a lasting guilt, thereby exalting themselves by comparison with him.

We know that the members of the early Church managed to withstand this temptation and, despite their initial wariness, accepted Saul. But the problem still exists today, and it is no accident that in the parable of the prodigal son Christ also spoke about his obedient elder brother...