"To a Scary Place" (Acts 9:1-20)

Just so there is no confusion:  Early on in the book of Acts, the apostle Paul is referred to by his Jewish name, Saul.  Paul is his Roman name, the name we are more familiar with.  But it’s the same guy.  To keep things simple, I’ll just refer to him as Paul.

Paul was a zealous persecutor of the new Christian movement within first century Judaism.  So adamant was he that he even approved of the killing of those who preached the gospel according to Jesus.  It doesn’t appear that Paul ever got his hands dirty by doing the killing himself, but he rounded up Christian believers, had them thrown in prison, and encouraged (through his hateful words) the killing of a great many.

My question is:  Why?  What motivated him?

Paul was a member of the Pharisees, a group of highly-respected Jews who believed that God would restore Israel to its former glory and free it from Roman occupation if only the people would adhere strictly to the laws and customs of the faith.  For this reason, the Pharisees were extremely devout, followed all the teachings and commands of the law, and insisted that others re-order their lives so that they, too, would more closely follow Jewish teachings.

Nothing wrong with that.

But Paul was set against the followers of Jesus.  His hate speech against them motivated others to commit acts of violence against the Christians.  Why would a good, upstanding, respectable Pharisee act in such a hateful way?

Scripture doesn’t say, but if I were to make a guess, I’d say that Paul was afraid.

In those days there was a lot of fear going around.  The followers of Jesus were afraid of Paul.  They and Paul were afraid of the Romans.  The Romans were afraid of anyone who might gain too much power and threaten their authoritarian control.  And meanwhile, the vast majority of people were afraid that they might not be able to make ends meet, that tomorrow they might not have enough food.

So fear was everywhere; and, as we all know, “fear leads anger, anger leads to hate, and hate leads to suffering.”  It’s very true.

But I also think that all this time, even in the midst of his persecution of Jesus’s followers, the thing Paul feared the most… was the change that was taking place within him.  He feared himself most of all.

Because I believe that, deep down, the Spirit was already at work within Paul, changing his heart before the moment of his conversion.  I believe that Paul began to suspect that the followers of Jesus really weren’t all that different from him, that their ideas about faith, and the things they taught, really were true.

But how on earth could Paul ever admit such a thing?  He was a Pharisee!  It would ruin his reputation and drastically change his life.  He’d lose credibility among those who had come to respect him.

That’s what Paul feared most of all.  Rather than face that fear and accept the truth, he fought against it.  He fought against the followers of Jesus. 

He fought against what he felt in his own heart.

A lot of this is conjecture.  But there are modern precedents for my conclusion.

From 2003 to 2006, Ted Haggard was president of the National Association of Evangelicals.  As president of that organization, he did many good things, and was a well-respected leader. 

He also reaffirmed the accepted evangelical view that homosexuality was sinful, and was an outspoken opponent to gay rights.

Like the apostle Paul before his conversion, Ted Haggard tried to lead people into a more holy way of living.  As far as I know, he never intentionally advocated using violence against homosexuals, but there’s no doubt that some who heard his words and the words of leaders like him were motivated by those words to hateful acts and violent crimes. 

Unlike Paul before his conversion, Ted Haggard didn’t’ approve of violence; still, Ted Haggard’s stand against homosexuality could not be mistaken.

But all along, something very strange was going on inside Ted Haggard’s heart.

In 2006, he resigned his leadership position after it was revealed he had been in a homosexual relationship.  It turns out that what he had been fighting against all along was something that existed within himself. 

It’s a very common thing.  Those who inflict words of hate toward others are often fighting something within themselves.  You see it in bullies at school, who pick on others because of their own insecurities.  They’re terrified.  Because often, the scariest things in life are not what come at us, but what comes from within us.  Some learn to accept what comes from within; but others are too afraid of what comes from within, and they fight against it.

And I’ve seen this happen too many times to think that Ted Haggard’s story is a fluke, a one-time thing.  It’s actually quite common.  So I think it’s probably safe to say that what the apostle Paul was fighting against – what Paul feared the most – was a developing awareness and consciousness within him, and a realization that what he believed was right in his heart was really not all that different from what the followers of Jesus believed.

All his life, Paul had played by the rules, and had garnered a lot of respect by those in positions of authority.  He had built a good network of associates and had crafted a carefully constructed life; and all that would fall apart if he came out in favor of Jesus.

Such a drastic change in his life was unthinkable.  Change really is hard.  So Paul fought against it.

There are several different descriptions of Paul’s conversion.  The one we just heard is from the 9^th chapter of Acts.  The story is repeated in the 26^th chapter, but there, after the voice says, “Saul, why do you persecute me,” the voice also says, “It hurts you to kick against the goads.” 

Now that’s a strange statement.  Here’s what it means.  A goad is a sharp pointed stick used to prod an ox or donkey.  When the voice says to Paul, “It hurts you to kick against the goads,” it sounds to me like Jesus had been working in Paul’s heart for some time, and Paul had been resisting, fighting, kicking the goads that prodded him to move in a new direction.  And yes, it was painful.

Paul knew he would have to give up a lot if he changed his message and began preaching the gospel of Jesus.  In the years to come, he would still refer to himself as a Pharisee, but I doubt that he was warmly welcomed by the rest of the Pharisees.  They may even have come to view him as a traitor. 

And, probably, they stopped inviting Paul to their gatherings, their dinners, their lobbying efforts with Roman rulers, and even their golf tournaments.  He was cut off from the Pharisee’s treasury, and with no income, had to make tents to support himself.

Paul knew all this would happen.

Paul also knew that if he started preaching the gospel of Jesus, the followers of Jesus would have a hard time accepting him.  When God tells Ananias to go minister to Paul, Ananias hesitates.  “I’ve heard of him, and how he persecutes followers of Jesus.”

So Paul resisted changing his life.  He prayed, and I’m sure that in many of his prayers Paul asked God to be on his side.

But God didn’t go over to Paul’s side.  Instead, God brought Paul over to God’s side.

We know that following Jesus entails major lifestyle changes.  We are called to live differently than the world lives.  And even though our heart is set on following Jesus, some of those changes we find too difficult and too scary to make.

There are times when I feel as if I’m standing beside an open window.  I can look through the window and see the kingdom of God, right there, the kingdom that exists now in the hearts of those who surrender themselves to the way of Jesus. 

I’m looking through the window and I see people living simple lives, so that they can invest more in helping the poor, people who have made major lifestyle changes so that they can follow Jesus’s command to truly love the least of these, our brothers and sisters.  People who have willingly given up so many of the things that our society says are essential, and who have found their lives richer and more meaningful because of it.

Now, I’ve changed all my incandescent light bulbs to fluorescent, and I ride my bike when I can, and I’ve learned the value of stewardship and giving to the church.  These are all good, simple things I’ve done to try to live more faithfully.  I’ve reached through that window and touched some of what exists on the other side.

But I feel as if I have yet to jump through the window with my whole body, and fully embrace the change.

Why?  Because it’s scary. 

Churches find themselves in this situation a lot.

We are clearly called to serve the community and world, to care for the least of these our brothers and sisters.  But so many congregations today spend all their energy caring for themselves.  I myself am often conflicted by congregations that spend all their time figuring out how to care for buildings that are too big for them to maintain; and by “conflicted” I mean, I feel the goads against which we keep on kicking.

For so many congregations today, truly following Jesus would require drastic change.  A conversion, if you will. 

But the change is just too scary.

The good news is that we are on a journey.  Like all metaphors, my image of the open window is imperfect.  Perhaps a better metaphor is that of a journey or path.  We’re not yet where we aim to be, and yet, we’ve also already come so far.  God is guiding us, leading us, and accompanying us on the way. 

It is significant that Paul was traveling when he heard the voice of Jesus.  He had been traveling a long time already, moving closer to where God was calling him to be.  That highlighted moment on the path was his realization of this. 

It’s the same with us.  We are on the path of following Jesus.  And God goes with us, prodding us along.  Sometimes the path becomes tricky or dangerous; it passes through dark shadows, and at times requires us to leap from boulder to boulder across powerful, raging rivers. 

We hesitate.  We remember, just a short ways back, a peaceful meadow, and we are content to just return there and stay there. 

But God turns us around.  God tells us to repent, which actually means turn around and go in a new direction.  God prods us to continue the journey, and we resist.  We kick against the goads. 

God is persistent.  God does not give up on you.  The journey is challenging and difficult and leads to new, unfamiliar places, and we become afraid.  Yet God promises to go with you, to never leave you or abandon you.

How much easier it would be if you could just return back to that meadow, return back to a familiar place, return back to Egypt, to stay in the good old days.  How much easier it would be if things could just stay the same, if the world would just stop changing.

A friend of mine said she loves seeing the JCPenney that she drives by every day.  Why?  Because her grandmother liked to shop at JCPenney, and JCPenney is still pretty much the same store it was when her grandmother was alive, and so it reminds her of her grandmother, it reminds her of that comforting place in her past.

But, my friend said, she herself never shops at JCPenney.  Why?  Because JCPenney hasn’t changed with the times.  And my friend is not the only one.  Fewer and fewer people are shopping at JCPenney.  Sales are down.  Stocks prices have fallen.  This week, the CEO was fired.  It’s doubtful that the chain will survive.

Change is hard.  That new place to which God is leading us is scary.  We resist walking down that path.

But:  it is the path that leads to life.