Act 9:4-5 . The light shone around him (and not his companions). Out of the light the present Christ manifested Himself at this moment to his view: he has seen , the Lord (1Co 9:1 ; 1Co 15:8 ), Act 9:17 ; Act 9:27 , who afterwards makes Himself known also by name ; and the persecutor, from terror at the heavenly vision, falls to the ground, when he hears the voice speaking in Hebrew (Act 26:14 ): Saul, Saul , etc.

;] ; Chrysostom. Christ Himself is persecuted in His people. Luk 10:16 . “Caput pro membris clamabat,” Augustine.

, ]. On the question whether Saul, during his residence in Jerusalem, had personally seen Christ (Schrader, Olshausen, Ewald, Keim, Beyschlag, and others) or not (comp. on 2Co 5:16 ), no decision can at all be arrived at from this passage, as the form in which the Lord presented Himself to the view of Saul belonged to the heavenly world and was surrounded with the glorious radiance, and Saul himself, immediately after the momentary view and the overwhelming impression of the incomparable appearance, fell down and closed his eyes.

Observe in Act 9:5 the emphasis of and .

Fuente: Heinrich August Wilhelm Meyer’s New Testament Commentary

4 And he fell to the earth, and heard a voice saying unto him, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?

Ver. 4. Fell to the earth ] Christ unhorsed him, but did not destroy him. He is not such a monarch as loves to get authority by sternness, as Rehoboam, but by gentleness. And though gone to heaven, yet hath he not changed his nature with change of honour; but together with beams of glory, there are still in him the same bowels of pity that he had here upon earth.

Why persecutest thou me? ] As unskilful hunters, shooting at wild beasts, may kill a man? so those that shoot at the saints, hit Christ. Their sufferings are held his, Col 1:24 ; their reproach his, Heb 13:13 . God is more provoked than Nehemiah,Neh 4:3Neh 4:3 ; Neh 4:5 . Christ retaineth still compassion, though freed from personal passion; and, though freed from feeling, he hath still yet a fellow feeling. a Let such among us take heed what they do, who, while they pronounce our Church antichristian, &c., strike at the beast, but wound the Lamb.

a Manet compassio etiam cum impassibilitate. Bernard.

Fuente: John Trapp’s Complete Commentary (Old and New Testaments)

4. . ] , ch. Act 26:14 . And it is a remarkable undesigned coincidence, that the form should have been preserved in this account, and rendered in Greek in the translation of Paul’s speech in ch. 22. In ch. 26, where he was speaking in Griek before Festus, he inserts the words . ., to account for the use of the form : or perhaps he spoke the solemn words, ineffaceable from his memory, as they were uttered, in Hebrew , for King Agrippa. (See note on , Act 9:17 .)

;] A remarkable illustration of Mat 25:45 . The is not emphatic (agst Wordsw.); but the very lack of emphasis, assuming the awful fact, gives more solemnity to the question.

Fuente: Henry Alford’s Greek Testament

Act 9:4 . , cf. Act 22:7 , both expressions show the over-whelming impression made by the sudden bright light. In Act 26:14 all fall to the ground, but there is no contradiction with Act 9:7 , see below on Act 9:7 . Lewin, Farrar (so Hackett, and some early interpreters) have held that Saul and some at least of his companions were mounted, since Saul was the emissary of the high priest, and the journey would occupy some days. On the other hand Felten (following Corn, Lapide) holds that the text makes no suggestion of this, and that the expression “they led him by the hand” and the command “rise and enter into the city” are against it; but the near neighbourhood of Damascus might easily account for the fact that his companions led Saul by the hand for the remaining distance, which could not have been long, although the immediate proximity of the traditional site cannot be maintained (see above on Act 9:3 ). As the strict Jews, like the Pharisees, seldom used horses, Felten may be right in conjecturing that Saul rode upon an ass or a mule (p. 186, note). : in St. Paul’s own account we have , Act 22:7 , and ., as here, in Act 26:14 . It would seem therefore that the distinction between with (1) accusative, and (2) genitive; (1) to hear and understand, (2) to hear, merely, cannot be pressed (so Alford, in loco , and Simcox, Language of N. T. , p. 90, and Weiss on Act 22:7 ; but see on the other hand Rendall on 9 Act 9:7 ). Thus in the passage before us it has been usual to explain with Act 9:4 , as indicating that Saul not only heard but understood the voice, cf. Act 22:14 , whilst with Act 9:7 , has been taken to show that his comrades heard, but did not understand (so Weiss, in loco , and also on Act 22:9 ). But there is (1) no contradiction with Act 22:9 , for there it is said of Paul’s companions: they heard the utterance, Act 9:7 , Act 22:7 , but did not hear definitely, or understand who it was that spoke, . But (2) on comparing the passages together, it appears that in Act 9:4 ; Act 9:7 a distinction is drawn between the contents of the utterance and the mere sound of the voice, a distinction drawn by the accusative and genitive; in Act 22:7 the same distinction is really maintained, and by the same cases, since in Act 22:7 Paul, in speaking of himself, says that he heard a voice, i.e. , was conscious of a voice speaking to him (genitive, ), (Simcox, u. s. , p. 85), whilst in Act 9:9 (accusative ) the contents of the utterance are referred to, cf. Act 9:14 in the same chapter; in Act 26:14 the accusative is rightly used for the contents of the utterance which are given there more fully than elsewhere. , : in each of the three narratives of the Conversion it is significant that the Hebrew form is thus given, and it is also found in the address of Ananias, probably himself a Hebrew, Act 9:17 , to the new convert. On the emphatic and solemn repetition of the name cf. Gen 22:11 , and in the N.T., Luk 10:41 ; Luk 22:31 , Mat 23:37 , and on the frequency of this repetition of a name as characteristic of Luke in Gospel and Acts see Friedrich, pp. 75, 76, cf. Luk 8:24 ; Luk 10:41 ; Luk 22:31 ; cf. Luk 23:21 (see also Deissmann’s note Bibelstudien , p. 184, on the introduction of the Hebrew name). ; cf. Act 7:52 , and 1Co 15:9 , Gal 1:13 . “Saul’s first lesson was the mystical union between Christ and His Church” cf. Mat 10:40 ; Mat 25:40 ; Mat 25:45 , Joh 10:16 , etc. No wonder that Felten sees “an ineffable pathos” in the words; Wendt quotes St. Augustine: “caput pro membris damabat,” cf. also Corn. Lapide: “corpus enim mystcum Christi est ecclesia, membra sunt fideles”.

Fuente: The Expositors Greek Testament by Robertson

fell . . . and = falling.

earth. Greek. ge. App-129.

voice. Greek. phone. Same as “sound”, Act 2:6.

Saul, Saul. Up to Act 13:9, the Greek form Saulos is used in the narrative, but here, 17; Act 13:21; Act 22:7, Act 22:13; Act 26:14, the Hebrew Saoul is found. Figure of speech Epizeuxis. App-6. See Gen 22:11.

Fuente: Companion Bible Notes, Appendices and Graphics

4. .] , ch. Act 26:14. And it is a remarkable undesigned coincidence, that the form should have been preserved in this account, and rendered in Greek in the translation of Pauls speech in ch. 22. In ch. 26, where he was speaking in Griek before Festus, he inserts the words . ., to account for the use of the form : or perhaps he spoke the solemn words, ineffaceable from his memory, as they were uttered, in Hebrew, for King Agrippa. (See note on , Act 9:17.)

;] A remarkable illustration of Mat 25:45. The is not emphatic (agst Wordsw.); but the very lack of emphasis, assuming the awful fact, gives more solemnity to the question.

Fuente: The Greek Testament

Act 9:4. , a voice) stern, and yet full of grace: ch. Act 22:14.-, Saul) JESUS knew Saul before that Saul knew JESUS.

Fuente: Gnomon of the New Testament

me?

The Lord identifies Himself with His people.

Fuente: Scofield Reference Bible Notes

Why Persecutest Thou Me?

And he fell upon the earth, and heard a voice saying unto him, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?Act 9:4.

1. We do well to treasure up, whenever we can learn them, the facts that cluster round the turning-points in a great mans life; the great critical moments which made him what he was, for good and evil, leaving an everlasting impress on his character. In proportion to the work which such a man has done in the world, as prophet, or lawgiver, or ruler, are we glad to know what were the inner sources of those great achievements; what forces were at work, directing, in the wonderful providence of God, the whole current of his being. The thoughts which rise unbidden in his heart; the words which are borne to his inward ear as from some human or Divine instructor; the account he himself gives us of the facts of the great changeall these have an interest for us far greater than that which attaches to any record of merely outward events, even than that which we find in the greatest actions of the man himself.

Looking to St. Paul as simply one of the great men who have stamped their minds and characters on the history of the world; seeing in him one whose influence has had a wider range, and lasted longer than that of any other man, however mighty or famous, the account which he gives of the process by which he became that which he actually was, might well attract us, as being of immense significance. The process was one of sudden and startling change; all the strength and intensity of his nature were transferred in a moment from one camp in the great battlefield of faith to the other; he who was before a persecutor and a blasphemer, and injurious, became a preacher of the faith he once destroyed. If the record of the conversion of St. Paul were simply that of an internal conflict, of growing and gathering convictions, of strange dreams and omens; if it were as perplexing and uncertain as are the stories of the conversion of Constantine, it would still be, for all to whom the history of the world is not a sealed book, a page in it which they may not lightly pass over. But if we believe that the change of belief and heart was not merely a human, but a Divine work; that the words which belong to it did not come by chance, but were spoken to his spirit by Him who is the Eternal Word; if we think of that which he beheld, not as one of the visions of the night, when deep sleep falleth upon men, but as the revelation of the Son of man, then we are bound to study the whole history with a profounder reverence, and to examine into each single circumstance belonging to it, with the fullest conviction that there can be nothing idle or superfluous in it, nothing arbitrary or capricious.

Give thanks for heroes that have stirred

Earth with the wonder of a word.

But all thanksgiving for the breed

Who have bent destiny with deed

Souls of the high, heroic birth

Souls sent to poise the shaken earth,

And then called back to God again

To make heaven possible for men.

2. The subject before us is St. Pauls conversion. Before approaching the particular study of it let us give a thought to the meaning of a much misused word. Perhaps no term in theology has been more seriously misapplied than this word conversion; the place which it has filled in religious thought, and the interpretations which have been forced out of it by preachers within the last Century, have tended to make us revert from the word altogether, as one having no use for modern times. But, while we try to avoid the errors, let us not be afraid of the word. Conversion, if used in its true sense, does not mean some abnormal experience in the spiritual life of a man; far from this, it is a natural experience in the history of the religious life of every soul which seeks after God; an experience which not only enters into that life, but makes a permanent impression upon the character of the soul.

(1) First of all it is a crisis in a mans experience. Nothing interests men more than the story of a critical and determining experience in the history of a soul. All the narratives that have deeply affected mankind have turned upon some crisis in spiritual fortunes. The interest of the crisis may have lain in tracing the chain of outward circumstances which prepared or seemed to prepare for it. Or it may, on the other hand, have lain solely in a close scrutiny of the gradual and hardly perceptible inner movements which led to that moment big with change and renewal. But without that moment the story would have been hardly a human story at all. So naturally do we look for the great transforming moment in a life which is to satisfy us of its real humanity. So little can we accept as really human the life which unconsciously and without an effort accepts itself, which has never needed to challenge itself and to wring from itself the satisfying and renewing answer to its own insistent questioning. It is this moment of self-challenge which is really the conversion of a soul. There the life comes to itself, feels that there is a self after which it must seek, which will not simply come to it without seeking, that there is a self which it must make, which will not fall to it ready-made.

I read in the newspaper the other day of a wonderful invention to be used in war. It was a bomb, with such materials inside the shell, and so contrived as to explode at the touch of a ray of light! The bomb might be placed anywhere and do no harm; but let a ray of light fall upon it in particular, and on the instant, at the summons of the light, the thing would awake and burst.1 [Note: John A. Hutton, Guidance from Robert Browning in Matters of Faith, 47.]

(2) But, in the second place, this crisis is a part of the souls own growth. Conversion is a universal human need. But we have confused ourselves by confining the term to a particular kind of religious experience which is by no means common to all men, or even possible for all men, which is indeed, and perhaps fortunately, possible only for a few exceptional natures. And it is just this kind of conversion which is very often least worthy of the name. It is the effect of a momentary emotion, and is induced most readily in the most superficial natures. It is true that the appeals which produce such an emotion may sometimes find their way into the deep and silent nature and there leave the permanent lesson which will continue to do its work while life endures. But they are too often addressed to all that is most obviously of the surface stuff of feeling. Too often they are so ignorant of the nature of the will in us and of the means of stirring it into action that it seems almost an accident if occasionally they do reach it. The secret of conversion lies in the character to which the appeal is addressed, and not in some conventional type of religious appeal. It is the inner history that matters. And nothing is of such slow growth as the trouble of the heart, the dissatisfaction with self. To force it is almost certainly to mar its efficaciousness, to rob it of its true value. Appeals from without may awaken it into activity for the first time, or they may bring it to a head and give it complete consciousness of itself. But it is in its slow working that the Spirit of God is wrestling with a soul. It is not in the message of a moment, but in the gradual lesson of an obscure and laborious effort, that the Divine Spirit comes to us. And yet that moment must not be denied its place in the spiritual life. It appears and reappears in the history of great souls.

This is the story of one of those profoundly significant events in history on which the whole complexion of future thought and the course of future progress turn. St. Paul is one of those Titanic figures of the past about whom everything was on the large scale, both for himself and for the world. Intellectually, his views of truth have become a fundamental statement of the creed of nineteen centuries; practically, he is the master empire-builder of the kingdom of God in the world. He laid hold upon the largest conceptions of his timethe Hebrew religion and the Roman Empireand he transformed them into the Christian Church. But it was not by the natural development of his genius that he did this. Up to a certain moment in his career his powers were running to waste, spending themselves in the most futile ways. At that moment something occurred which revolutionized his whole life, an upheaval of the very foundations of the man. But the greatness of this mans nature ensured the thoroughness of the change in him. Such a mans conversion is a tremendous affair.1 [Note: J. Kelman.]

We may well question whether there was ever a conversion which could be rightly called instantaneous. There is often a sudden shock, a flash of light, a conscience smitten as with an arrow, a deciding moment; but hundreds of forgotten things have been preparing for it. That blaze of lightning which bursts out of a thunder-cloud is instantaneous, but the atmospheric conditions which prepared it have been a long time gathering to form that thunder-cloud. Conversion, when it is most sudden, has behind it days and even years of passing religious thought, and conscience-pricking, and spirit-striving. It is only when the hands are on the hour that the clock strikes, but through the whole sixty minutes the whole machinery has been moving towards this very thing. The clock struck in this case on the way to Damascus, but the wheels had been going round a long time bringing it to this point. Christs unseen hand had been laid upon Saul more than once, and he had felt it and shaken it off, half in fear and half in anger.1 [Note: J. G. Greenhough.]

I was quick in the flesh, was warm, and the live heart shook my breast;

In the market I bought and sold, in the temple I bowed my head.

I had swathed me in shows and forms, and was honoured above the rest,

For the sake of the life I lived; nor did any esteem me dead.

But at last, when the hour was ripewas it sudden-remembered word?

Was it sight of a bird that mounted, or sound of a strain that stole?

I was ware of a spell that snapped, of an inward strength that stirred,

Of a Presence that filled that place; and it shone, and I knew my soul.

And the dream I had called my life was a garment about my feet,

For the web of the years was rent with the throe of a yearning strong,

With a sweep as of winds in heaven, with a rush as of flames that meet,

The Flesh and the Spirit clasped; and I cried, Was I dead so long?

I had glimpse of the Secret, flashed through the symbol obscure and mean,

And I felt as a fire what erst I repeated with lips of clay;

And I knew for the things eternal the things eye hath not seen;

Yea, the heavens and the earth shall pass, but they never shall pass away.2 [Note: Helen Gray Cone.]

I

The Preparation

1. It is worth our while in the first place to inquire into the events which led up to the change. For it is evident that it was sudden only in its climax, as we may gather even from the words it is hard for thee to kick against the pricks (Act 9:5). This inference is borne out by the altogether excessive zeal of the voluntary inquisitor. When we think what humble folk these early Christians wereslaves, women who earned their livelihood by trade, odds and ends of the below-stairs life of the great Empireand when we remember how Saul rushed from house to house after them, and how everything was at its harshest and most violent, we can see the unnaturalness of it all. No one likes this sort of work for its own sake, and this fiery crusade, self-imposed, is certainly suspicious.

Who lights the faggot?

Not the full faith; no, but the lurking doubt.

On the other hand, we know from himself that he had already been arrested by the discovery of the sinfulness of coveting, and the inward nature of morality. Pharisaic Judaism could do nothing to help him in that, but it was a first principle of Jesus teaching. And there was much else in the new faith that must have strongly attracted him. The character of Jesus, and of His followers, was after all inexplicably beautiful, whatever one might think about their principles. Those women with the Madonna-like faces, those young men whose eyes were full of spiritual lightundoubtedly they had some secret of gladness and serenity hidden from the ancient world. Thus he was already more or less consciously dissatisfied with Judaism and tempted towards Christianity.

Yet such a change meant too much for him to make it possible that he should lightly capitulate. On the one hand, it was unthinkable to his proud spirit that simple people like the Christians had been right, while he and all thinkers whom he respected had been wrong. And then, if by any chance it should be true, the ghastly alternative was that he and his friends had seen their own Messiah, and crucified Him. No wonder that he felt the anguish of a constant misgiving. It was the clash of two consciences within him. It was impossible to go on for long with this hunting of such small and defenceless game without a pang; and yet a sorer pang threatened him if for a moment he admitted the possibility of his nations crime, and the falsehood of her fixed convictions.

It was characteristic of the man to seek to settle the conflict by a blind and furious dash for one side. But the journey gave him much enforced leisure when he was not in a mood that could bear to be still. Whatever route he chose, he could not escape daily memories of Jesus and His doings. He was no longer backed by public opinion, and the solitary ride only gave freer course to his uncertain thoughts. By the time he had drawn near to Damascus, he must have been growing feverish. No Eastern travels at high noon except upon compulsion. Then in the still hot air, while the merciless sun beat on him and his unwilling and sullen companions, the city burst upon his view.

2. It is hard for thee to kick against the pricks. In our land we rarely see oxen yoked to the plough. Obedient horses do that work in our fields. But in the lands of the Bible, oxen were employed in the task, and they did not take kindly to it until they were broken in. They were often in rebellious mood, and flung their heels back in angry protest against the beam or shaft of the ploughshare. They stood and kicked instead of moving on. To stop this a somewhat cruel device was used. The beam was faced with small, sharp iron spikes, and when those rebellious limbs of theirs were flung furiously back it was only to have them pricked and sorely wounded. The most stubborn oxen speedily got tired of that self-inflicted torture; settled down to the yoke and the labour, and submissively went whither the ploughman drove. It is a curious figure to apply to a man, but distinctly forcible; and this was the figure which our glorified Lord used to that haughty and headstrong man, Saul of Tarsus. Here he was, entrusted with a most important mission, armed with letters and credentials from the most imposing authorities in his nation, lifted up with the intoxication of rage and assurance, resolved to destroy at a blow this new pernicious sect of Christians which had sprung up, and doubtless expecting to win great glory in doing it. And Christ appeared and knocked down his pride with this little word: told him that he was like one of those stupid oxen which, in refusing to do what they were ordered to do, only inflicted suffering upon themselves. Now, how did the figure apply to him? What was the resemblance between this man, driving forward on his mission of persecution, and the ox refusing to be driven, and wounding himself in sheer wrath and obstinacy? Saul understood it quickly. It meant that God had laid hold of him and yoked him to higher service, and that all this furious zeal against Jesus and the saints was just an effort to escape the yoke, to resist the power that was driving him, an effort which was bound to fail, for like the oxen he was bound to go submissively when he had abandoned kicking against the pricks. Yes, he was already yoked. A Masters hand was upon him, and he was trying to fling it off and could not.

3. It has been said that the martyrdom of Stephen converted Saul. That is overstating it; but the blood-drops of that sufferer were the seed-grain of Sauls changed life. He had heard the courageous testimony, watched and seen the face which in its dying agony was as the face of an angel; seen with what absolute fearlessness a Christian could suffer and die. It had preached to him through his obstinately closed ears; it had pricked his heart and left a sense of pain. He had crushed it down many a time, but it rose again. It was like a fire that still burned and would not be quenched. It grew fiercer, indeed, the more he tried to quench it. He fanned his hatred against the Christian sect; he followed them, hunted them, laid fierce hands upon them, dragged them off to prison, got them scourged and stoned and slain. What of that? It only brought him face to face with them. Through every one of them Christ spoke and pleaded. He saw their patient heroism, serenity in suffering, cheerfulness in dying. He could not help asking himself the secret of it. What was it that nerved and inspired these men? There was something here which he had never found in his own orthodox Pharisaism, and what was it? Could Christ be true? Was the Nazarene, indeed, the Son of God? and in slaying these people was he murdering the saints of God? Such thoughts as these had searched the heart of Saul of Tarsus, and it was face to face with himself that he was prepared for the vision of the Son of God.

We can be born thus more than once; and each birth brings us a little nearer to our God. But most of us are content to wait till an event, charged with almost irresistible radiance, intrudes itself violently upon our darkness, and enlightens us, in our own despite. We await I know not what happy coincidence, when it may so come about that the eyes of our soul shall be open at the very moment that something extraordinary takes place. But in everything that happens there is light; and the greatness of the greatest men has but consisted in that they had trained their eyes to be open to every ray of this light.1 [Note: Maurice Maeterlinck.]

II

The Vision

1. We do not know the precise spot where the vision occurred, but tradition localizes it at Salahijeh, an outer spur of the Lebanon range, at the foot of huge limestone cliffs, where the traveller first catches sight of the boundless plain and the magnificent city of Damascus set in the midst of it. One moment the famished eye sees on every side nothing but the grey aridity of limestone rock, without a leaf to enliven it; and the next it gazes enraptured upon an ocean of infinitely varied foliage. For hours Saul had been passing through the dreariest mountain scenery, whose sterile crags, bleaching in the hot sunshine, fatigued body and mind; and now all at once there rushed upon his vision, prepared for it, as it were, by the obliteration of even the memory of any green thing, a scene so strangely fair that it seemed as if a new and radiant world had opened up before himthe world-old city of Damascus, embosomed in the brightest verdure and bloom, a pearl surrounded by emeralds, the eye of all the East. It pleases us to think that, with a poetic fitness, this was the place where Saul and his escort of soldiers were arrested by the supernatural vision.

2. The zealot of the Law, all the more a zealot because it can no longer satisfy him, is on his way to persecute the truth for which his soul is longing. There is something terrifying and terribly pathetic in the tumult of a soul which draws near the accomplishment of such an infamy, the infamy of a loyalty which is the supreme disloyalty. It was in the exhaustion of such a tumult that the lightning which rent the Syrian sky rent also once and for all the heart of St. Paul, and revealed to him the very face of the Saviour for whom he longed. It was through the thunder of the sudden midday storm that the authentic voice of Jesus reached him at last. How often he had heard it since that day of Stephens death, only to put it away from him as an impossible delusion. Now through the tumult without and within it strikes quite clear and definite. Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me? That was the very question which had haunted him ever since, in an act of fierce determination, he had sought out the high priests and obtained their warrant and ridden immediately through the Damascus gate. And the whole drama of hesitation repeats itself again in a flash in his soul. Who art thou, Lord? I am Jesus, whom thou persecutest! What wilt thou have me to do? But at last there is peace, deliverance from the conflict of the past, an end to that stage of the conflict. The soul blinded with excess of light has found its true Master and yields itself henceforth to His direction.

3. Was Saul deceived? Was he the subject of hallucination? Was he so exhausted with the fatigues of the journey, which must have occupied five or six days, as to mistake the flaming of a torch, or the noontide splendour of an Oriental sun, for a supernatural revelation? A modern conclusion of a sceptical philosopher is that he was the subject of an epileptic fit! The suggestion is scarcely worthy of any serious notice. Those who suffer from this complaint are, for the time, unconscious, and on their recovery cannot recall anything that happened while the seizure lasted. Dazzled into blindness by the overpowering effulgence of the light, Saul of Tarsus continued in a state of misery for three days, but never lost consciousness, and could remember the minutest detail of what happened during those days of spiritual as well as physical darkness. Such a foolish hypothesis as the theory of epilepsy is an amusing specimen of the absurd lengths to which rationalistic speculation will go in its attempt to eliminate the supernatural dement from the Bible. It is impossible to account for this event satisfactorily without admitting it to be a miraculous manifestation.

Whats that which, ere I spake, was gone!

So joyful and intense a spark

That, whilst oerhead the wonder shone,

The day, before but dull, grew dark?

I do not know; but this I know,

That, had the splendour lived a year,

The truth that I some heavenly show

Did see, could not be now more clear.

This know I too: might mortal breath

Express the passion then inspired,

Evil would die a natural death,

And nothing transient be desired:

And error from the soul would pass,

And leave the senses pure and strong

As sunbeams. But the best, alas,

Has neither memory nor tongue.1 [Note: Coventry Patmore.]

4. From the moment when Saul saw Jesus, his life became a transformed one. Such a transformation in itself bears witness to the reality of the heavenly vision, and all the more so because the struggle was not finished in that one stupendous moment. If the transformation had resulted from hallucination we might allow the possibility of the sudden change, but that the effect should be permanent and abiding, worked out with infinite patience in a lifes struggle, is incredible. We have only to read the seventh chapter of Romans to be convinced that St. Pauls conquest which began at this moment was a real and abiding one.

5. There is yet another point. Here we have an illustration of the way in which the best and most can be made of a man. This man has no sooner been appealed to, no sooner has he seen that He whom he thought was an evil impostor is really the Lord of glory, he has no sooner recognized Jesus of Nazareth risen from the dead, and clothed in power and majesty, than he calls Him Lord; and the cry of the newly won life, of the newly subdued heart, is, Lord, what wilt thou have me to do? And out from that as from a fountain comes the life of splendid devotion, of brave endurance, of glorious attempt, and even yet more glorious victory for the Lord Jesus. And is not St. Paul influencing the whole civilized world to-day?

Ofttimes when the days are bitter, and the pulse of life is low,

And the wheels of toil in their dusty course drive heavily and slow,

When the meaning of all is blurred, and the joy of seeking palls,

Ofttimes in my desert places a miracle befalls.

Is it a trick o the blood, a clearing dot in the brain?

Sudden the far-off shower unguessed has filled the choking stream;

Some rift in the grey horizon let through a crimson beam.

Once more for me the sky is blue; I quaff the wine of the air,

And taste the fierce tang of the sea, and find the wild rose fair;

Once more I walk the allotted round with unreluctant feet,

And daily bread has savour, and love and labour are sweet.

Oh, once in centuries olden, before Damascus Gate,

Journeyed one with holden eyes and a dreary heart of hate;

When a glory shone round about him, and in one wondrous hour

He had passed from death to life. Then knowledge and grace and power

And a new word filled his lips; and joy and courage and love

Were born henceforth in his heart, with the vision that fell from above.

And still, when the days are bitter, and life is clogged with care,

And the heart is salt with unshed tears and tender with despair,

An angel stirs the stagnant soul, and lo! there is healing there.

Once more my song is loosened, and the life and labour sweet;

Once more in the tangled weft the pattern shines complete;

And I know that the self-same grace on my soul has been outpoured.

My spirit, by Damascus Gate, has heard the voice of her Lord.

III

The Voice

And he fell upon the earth, and heard a voice saying unto him, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?

1. The vision was accompanied by a voice. There is an apparent strangeness in the account which is given by himself, and by St. Luke, of the facts of St. Pauls conversion. That strangeness, that startling simplicity and plainness, carries with it the evidence of its own truthfulness. The temptation to a dishonest, or even to a weak nature, would have been to raise all the circumstances of such a change to the height of what would seem to men stately, Divine, terrible. All familiar speech, all that drew its birth from the common experience of mankind, would have been carefully excluded. The tongue of men and of angels would have seemed too feeble for so high a theme. There would have been an attempt to soar into the third heaven, and to speak the words which it is not lawful for a man to utter. St. Pauls language is, we know, very different. He uses here, as always, great plainness of speech. He tells us, indeed, of the glory above the brightness of the sun which shone round about him; tells us how in that brightness he saw a form which others did not see, and heard words which they did not hear, although the voice of Him that spake filled them with strange fears; and then we come to that Divine message from the Lord of glory to the soul of His servant, and we find it simply this, I am Jesus whom thou persecutest. It is hard for thee to kick against the pricks.

2. The words came with a startling abruptness; they were themselves plain and familiar. The young Jew of Tarsus might have read them in Greek books, or heard the proverb quoted a hundred times among his Hebrew friends. They belonged to the widespread treasure of similitudes and proverbs drawn from the simplest forms of mans life and work; and, as such, were not confined to any race or country. Those words St. Paul had probably had often in his thoughts, or on his lips. Never before, we may be sure, had they come to him as they came now; never before had he applied them to himself, and seen what they had to tell him of Gods dealings with him. We may be sure that they were the very words he needed; that none which we should have thought loftier and more solemn could have done their work so effectually. What an entirely new light those words would throw on the zeal and vehemence in which the persecutor had gloried; how utterly they would reverse the judgments which he had passed on them! They revealed to him that he, the pride of the schools of Jerusalem, the rigid and scrupulous Pharisee, was, like the brute beast in that proverbial speech, struggling against the guidance of one mightier and wiser than himself, and by that resistance bringing upon himself nothing but an increase of pain and confusion. He was himself kicking against the pricks. In his blindness and ignorance he did not, or would not, see the first promptings of the Almighty hand that marked out his true path for him. There had already been, as the words imply, signs and tokens of the will of God, goads that entered deep into his soul, and brought with them pain and misery; but he went on in spite of these, crushing all feelings of pity, doubt, remorse, and steeling himself into what seemed to him a noble and heroic hardness. These words bring before us a new phase in the mind of that persecutor.

3. It was a touching question to the infuriated man, whose great object was to obliterate every trace of the Christian religion and to harry and harass its adherents. It is not, Why persecutest thou them? but, Why persecutest thou Me? God is angry with me, said Luther one day to the good monk Staupitz. No, answered the venerable teacher, you are angry with God. Saul of Tarsus was mad as a demon with hatred to Christ. Christ was gentle and loving to him, and the expostulation was most pathetic. Why persecutest thou Me? Ineffably tender and close is the relationship between Him and all His disciples. Let the humblest member of His mystical body suffer, and at once the Head suffers, by the subtle yet potent influence of spiritual sympathy. He showed greater sensitiveness in regard to His mystical body than in regard to His physical body. He did not say anything like this to any of those who inflicted upon Him cruel and excruciating torture. He endured the pain and agony in the silence of patience. But when, after His ascension, His followers were being haled to prison, and condemned to undergo hardship and death for His sake, He said, Why persecutest thou Me?

Why persecutest thou Me? The enthroned Saviour is bound to every one of His subjects by ties of holy sympathy. Amid the glory of heaven He does not forget their needs.

He in the days of feeble flesh

Poured out His cries and tears;

And, though exalted, feels afresh

What every member bears.

Any act of kindness performed to His humblest follower is an act of kindness to Himself. Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of these my brethren, even the least, ye did it unto me. Any act of cruelty to them is an act of cruelty to Him. In all their affliction he was afflicted, and the angel of his presence saved them: in his love and in his pity he redeemed them; and he bare them, and carried them all the days of old.1 [Note: E. Morgan.]

We have no tears Thou wilt not dry;

We have no wounds Thou wilt not heal;

No sorrows pierce our human hearts

That Thou, dear Saviour! dost not feel.

Thy pity, like the dew, distils;

And Thy compassion, like the light,

Our every morning overfills,

And crowns with stars our every night.

Let not the worlds rude conflict drown

The charmed music of Thy voice,

That calls the weary ones to rest

And bids all mourning souls rejoice.2 [Note: H. M. Kimball.]

Why Persecutest Thou Me?

Literature

Benson (R. M.), The Final Passover, iv. 656.

Campbell (J. M.), Bible Questions, 93.

Greenhough (J. G.), The Mind of Christ in St. Paul, 250.

Kelman (J.), Ephemera Eternitatis, 27.

Lilley (A. L.), The Soul of St. Paul, 11.

Lock (W.), St. Paul the Master Builder.

Macmillan. (H.), Gleanings in Holy Fields, 101.

Matheson (G.), Spiritual Development of St. Paul, 45.

Morgan (E.), The Calls of God, 333.

Plumptre (E. H.), Theology and Life, 65.

Stanley (A. P.), Sermons in the East, 63.

Talmage (T. de Witt), Sermons, vi. 99.

Thorold (A. W.), Questions of Faith and Duty, 305.

Williams (H. C), Christ the Centre, 16.

Christian World Pulpit, liv. 22 (Gladstone).

Sermons for the People, 1st Ser., ii. 67 (Hutchings).

Fuente: The Great Texts of the Bible

he fell: Act 5:10, Num 16:45, Joh 18:6, Rom 11:22, 1Co 4:7

Saul: Gen 3:9, Gen 16:8, Gen 22:11, Exo 3:4, Luk 10:41, Joh 20:16, Joh 21:15

why: Act 22:7, Act 22:8, Act 26:14, Act 26:15, Isa 63:9, Zec 2:8, Mat 25:40, Mat 25:45, Mat 25:46, 1Co 12:12, Eph 5:30

Reciprocal: Gen 46:2 – Jacob Exo 15:7 – them that Exo 23:22 – an enemy Deu 23:4 – Because they met 1Sa 2:23 – Why 1Sa 3:4 – called Samuel 1Sa 17:36 – seeing 2Sa 3:8 – do show 1Ki 13:4 – his hand 2Ch 13:12 – fight ye 2Ch 14:11 – man Job 33:13 – strive Psa 2:2 – Lord Psa 40:14 – driven Isa 37:29 – rage Isa 57:4 – Against Jer 2:3 – all that Jer 51:1 – rise Eze 1:28 – I fell Joe 3:4 – and what Mar 9:42 – it Luk 21:12 – before Luk 22:31 – Simon Joh 5:16 – persecute Act 7:32 – Then Act 9:10 – Ananias Act 9:17 – the Lord Act 10:3 – Cornelius Act 23:9 – if 1Co 8:12 – ye sin against 2Co 1:5 – as 2Co 10:5 – and every Rev 11:5 – fire Rev 11:8 – our Lord Rev 17:14 – shall make

Fuente: The Treasury of Scripture Knowledge

THE CONVERSION OF ST. PAUL

And he fell to the earth, and heard a voice Arise, and go into the city, and it shall be told thee what thou must do.

Act 9:4; Act 9:6

Of all the followers of Christ, surely none had a life so full of interest and none had so great influence for the cause of Christ as St. Paul.

I. His conversion.The stoning of St. Stephen, no doubt, was a turning-point in the life of St. Paul. Augustine says that the Church owes St. Paul to the prayer of St. Stephen at that time. The spectacle of so much constancy, so much faith, so much love, could not possibly be lost. St. Paul went his way, but conscience began to work within him. To drown his conscience, he took up the cause of persecution, and sought for letters patent to enable him to go to Damascus to arrest those he found of this Way, whether they were men or women, and commit them to prison. But he could not go on like this for ever. He could not for ever stifle his conscience. In the very midst of his work, as he was journeying to Damascus, the Lord met him, and his conversion changed the whole course of his life. Instead of persecuting Christians, he was to teach the faith which once he denied.

II. His ministry.Immediately after we find St. Paul going forth and speaking to the people of Damascus, proving that this was the very Christ. But he could not remain in Damascus. As soon as the Jews got over their first astonishment at seeing this man, on whom they had relied to exterminate the Christians, as soon as they found that he himself was a Christian, they began to persecute him. He went into Arabia, the mountainous country where God spoke to Moses and Aaron and Elijah. He dwelt in solitdue, conversing with his Lord and being instructed upon his future teaching. It was there that Christ taught him about the Holy Communion. It was there, perhaps, that he was caught up into the seventh heaven and heard things unspeakable, and therefore kept silence upon what he saw. It was there that he learned more fully to know Jesus Christ and was instructed in the doctrine in which he was to preach. As soon as that period was ended, he returned to Damascus, but not to remain long. He went back to Jerusalem, however, and taught. His mission was to the Gentiles, and he began a life of suffering; but he was always full of zeal, full of energy, preaching the Gospel of Christ, teaching others that Christ had died for them, and bidding them turn from their evil ways, showing them that a life of surrender and devotion to Christs service is the life to be desired on earth.

III. A pattern to us.This true and noble service for Christ should inspire us to be more like St. Paul, and to be more earnest, more fervent, more zealous in our daily life in upholding the cause of Christ, in striving to live such a life that we may turn others to Christ, and let others take knowledge that we have been with Christ. May we grow daily more like St. Paul, devoting and surrendering our lives to the service of Christ.

Rev. W. N. Matthews.

Illustration

St. Paul was born of God-fearing parents. He early learned to keep righteousness and to walk according to the Law. In his early days he showed great promise, and he was sent to Gamaliel to be trained and educated. The education of those days was different to that of our days. There was a prejudice against the use of any books except the sacred writings. At a meeting of learned men some passage of the Scriptures was taken as a text and made the subject of their conversation. Various interpretations were given, allegories were told and suggested, and the ancient writings on the subject quoted. At this discussion young students were present to listen and to ask questions, and it is probable that from this system of education St. Paul acquired his power of argument and his fluency of speech. We do not know of the social position of St. Pauls parents. It is not possible to say whether they lived in affluent circumstances or whether they were people of humble origin. St. Paul speaks of his trade as being that of a tent-maker, but this does not necessarily imply that he had to labour with his hands for his living, for it was the custom amongst the Jews that every boy should be taught a trade. In the Talmud it says he that teacheth not his son a trade is doing the same thing as if he taught his son to be a thief. Intellectually, he had a mind logical and acute, and his memory was well stored. Morally he was a strict observer of the requirements of the Law, and while he lived a careful and conscientious life, after the example of his ancestors, he imbibed a spirit of fervent and, as it afterwards turned out, persecuting zeal. Probably after his education in Jerusalem was finished St. Paul returned to his home at Tarsus, and there he had abundant opportunity to become acquainted with Greek literature.

Fuente: Church Pulpit Commentary

Three Great Questions

Act 9:4-6

INTRODUCTORY WORDS

When Saul of Tarsus was stricken down to the ground by a great light, he heard a voice saying, “Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou Me?”

Saul had thought that he was fighting for, and not against, God. He had his misgivings as we taught in our last message; he had the goads which pricked him, but he sought to cast them all aside. He tried to consider himself a hero, fighting the good fight, for the faith of his fathers. The fact is that Saul found mercy because he fought in ignorance and unbelief. He was educated, to be sure, but he was ignorant withal. He thought himself fighting for the faith. but he fought in unbelief.

God smote Saul to the ground with a light that shone brighter than the sun. When the Lord spoke, and said, “Why persecutest thou Me?” Saul did not reply that he was fighting men and not God; for Saul knew that back of all his fierceness against the saints, was the hatred of his heart against the Christ whom they professed to love and to follow.

He was, in reality, fighting against Christ. Could he have gotten Christ before him in tangible form, he would have set himself against Him, as the Jews had done but a short while before.

National Israel had rid herself of the Man of Galilee, the Worker of Miracles, the Teacher of truth, the One who claimed to be God. They had succeeded in crucifying Him, and had seen Him buried. To be sure they knew that He had come forth from the grave, and they knew that He was reputed by eyewitnesses to have ascended up in a cloud into Heaven; but they felt at least that He was gone. Thus they thought that all that was left to rid the earth of His memory and might, was to rid the earth of His followers.

To this task, Saul had set about, dedicating himself to the extinction of the Christians. Now Saul, the star persecutor, was himself stricken down by the Lord. He trembled and he was astonished by what occurred. He distinctively heard the voice from Heaven. The voice was filled with agitation, as is seen in the repetition of the word, “Saul.” The voice said, “Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou Me?”

I. THE GREAT QUESTION-WHY PERSECUTEST THOU ME? (Act 9:4)

Before we precede with our message, we would like to ask this same question of all those who reject or despise the Lord? “Why? Why? Why do you persecute the Lord Jesus?”

The Son of God came down from above, He came forth from the Father; He came with salvation and blessing, with redemption and restoration, for His people. Why was there no room for Him in the inn? Why was He despised and rejected of man; a Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief? Why was He a man from whom men turned away their faces?

Can the attitude of the men of His own day be explained? He came into the world, and the world knew Him not-why not? He came unto His own, and His own received Him not-why not?

Why was it that the people of Nazareth led Him to a brow of the hill on which their city was built, intent on casting Him off unto His death? Why was it that they went about to slay Him? Why did they wag their heads and cry, “Crucify Him, Crucify Him”?

“Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou Me?”

Let us hesitate a moment. Why do men today persecute Him? Why do some deny Him as God? Some, as Virgin Born? Some, as the Way, the Truth, and the Life? Why do men of today refuse to acknowledge His lordship? Why do they reject His mercy and spurn His grace?

The answer to this question must make a display of the deceitfulness and the wickedness of the human heart. It must reveal that men have minds darkened with unbelief. It must show that men are under satanic power and dominion.

Shall we spurn the One in whom we live and move and have our being? Shall we cast out the One who is the Author of every good and perfect gift? Shall we crucify the Lover of our souls?

The Lord Jesus was the essence of all that was pure, and lovely, and holy, and good. He came, a light in the darkness. He came with life, for those dead in sins. He brought a blessing and not a curse. He went about doing good, and not evil. He healed the sick, cured the lame, gave sight to the blind, and He even raised the dead. He multiplied bread and fishes. He taught as no man ever taught; spake as no man ever spake. Why, O Saul, didst thou persecute Him? Why, O man of twenty centuries later, do you persecute Him?

Surely the God of this world hath blinded the minds of the unbelieving, lest the light of the glorious Gospel of Jesus Christ should shine in, and convert them. Surely men are lovers of self, more than lovers of God. Surely all men, like sheep, have gone astray.

II. THE GREAT RESPONSE-WHO ART THOU LORD? (Act 9:5, f.c.)

Months before Jesus Christ had said to His disciples, “Whom do men say that I the Son of Man am?” They said, “Some say that Thou art John the Baptist: some, Elias; and others, Jeremias, or one of the Prophets.” This answer fell far beneath the facts, and it utterly failed to satisfy the Master. Most men would be delighted to be likened to earth’s greatest and best among men, but not so the Christ.

Then said the Lord Jesus, “But whom say ye that I am?” Peter, without hesitancy replied, “Thou art the Christ, the Son of the Living God.” No sooner had Peter spoken, than Christ said, “Blessed art thou, Simon Bar-jona: for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but My Father which is in Heaven.”

On another occasion Christ said, “What think ye of Christ? whose Son is He?” They say unto Him, “The Son of David.” Jesus then asked them, “How then did David, in spirit, call Him Lord?”

Here lies the battleground between orthodoxy and het-erodoxy-“Who art Thou, Lord?” This is the greatest of all questions, and upon its answer the whole of Christianity stands or falls. If Christ is Lord, and Saviour, He must be “the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father,”-God made manifest in flesh.

If Christ was a mere man, claiming oneness with the Father, equality with God, He was the greatest of impostors, and the nation of the Jews should have rejected Him.

There is one thing we delight to behold-that is the open mind of Saul, as he cried, “Who art Thou, Lord?” Saul had gone to great length in persecuting the One whom he verily thought was a fraud. He had, however, begun to fear that he was fighting against God; and now with the light from Heaven shining full upon him he sought for truth.

Would that men everywhere would ask themselves this question? Who is the One the Christians worship? Would that all Jews of today would go to the bottom of this same question-who is the Christ of the believing Gentiles?

Would that modernists would cease from human misgivings and surmisings, and discover who is the One they persecute? Modernists may be sincere, even as Saul was sincere; but they have not allowed themselves to weigh the facts concerning Jesus Christ.

“Who art Thou, Lord?” Have we proofs sufficient to warrant us in saying, with dogmatic certainty, “Thou art the Christ, the Son of God, and God the Son?”

That Saul believed he had such proof no one can doubt. His after ministry, with its toil and testings; its preachings and persecutions settles that. No man ever moved Saul from his convictions that Jesus was the Christ. He knew whom he had believed. He lived in the glow of an undoubting faith. The persecutor, prayed; the disbeliever, believed; the hater, loved.

What was the supreme proof that wrought so great a change in Saul? What was the light that dispelled his darkness? He who had rejected Christ and fought Him with all the ardor of his soul, received Christ and immediately served with a passion and power that proved the sincerity of bis new faith. What wrought the change? What satisfied the mind of this student of Gamaliel; this youth set in his prejudices; this young man entwined in the meshes of Rabbinical lore?

Was Saul suddenly turned by some magical wand from the fierceness of the lion to the meekness of a lamb? Did Saul’s whole make-up, his ambitions, his conceptions, his faith in the Jews’ religion, his very being, meet with a sudden collapse, by reason of some strange hallucination that gripped him in the way?

We wot not.

Saul was not in his dotage. Saul was not of the nature to succumb to some strange fear, or to yield to some weird and imagined vision.

Saul was not of the stamp and fiber to easily cast overboard all the cherished hopes of his being. He was a young man with a set jaw, a determined course of action, an unmovable ambition.

Beside all of this, Saul’s after-life proved that his reason had never been dethroned; Saul never was accused of being a dreamer, led on by vague visions of fancied fables. He was a sane, plodding, practical preacher of facts for which he was willing to die, if need be. People who heard him acknowledged his learning. People who followed him never slurred at his sincerity. People who touched his inner life, never doubted the reality of his faith.

Saul of Tarsus, afterward known as Paul the preacher, was a. man mighty in word and in deed. He was a reasoner out of the Scriptures. Whatever any one may say of him-no one ever pronounced him a mollycoddle, or a jellyfish.

Now let us answer our question-What changed Saul of Tarsus? What overthrew the conceptions of a lifetime? What halted a career?

The answer is positive, undeniable: Saul believed that Jesus was God, his Saviour. Saul was convinced that Christ was as all that he claimed. Saul acknowledged that Christ, the One crucified, and buried, was NOW risen and seated at the right hand of God.

That this is true we know. However, we know more-we know that through a long and varied experience, Saul never changed from his faith of that first hour. He never showed so much as the shadow of a turning. The new faith and trust; the convictions concerning Jesus Christ which came to Saul on the Damascus road, never left him.

Had Saul merely had an hallucination, the hallucination would have worn off; had Saul merely been scared and swept away by his emotions, that scare would never have led Paul through years of ardent toil for Christ; through travels unreached by any of his day.

We who dare to doubt the genuineness of Saul’s faith, should follow the footsteps of Saul’s sufferings.

Let us mark some of the things which befell Paul, and some of the things he suffered:

“Of the Jews five times received I forty stripes save one.

“Thrice was I beaten with rods, once was I stoned, thrice I suffered shipwreck, a night and a day I have been in the deep; “In journeyings often, in perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils by mine own countrymen, in perils by the heathen, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea, in perils among false brethren; “In weariness and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness.

“Beside those things that are without, that which cometh upon me daily, the care of all the churches” (2Co 11:24-28).

There is but one conclusion: Saul of Tarsus saw Christ, and believed. Saul of Tarsus saw Christ as risen from the dead, as ascended, as seated at the Father’s right hand. He saw Him and acknowledged Him as God.

Before that same Christ, and with a faith as sure, and as serene, and as sane as was Saul’s, we bend the knee, and, worshiping, we crown Christ as Lord. We accept Him in all the glory that marks His person, and in the honor that is given to His Name.

III. THE GREAT RESULT-WHAT WILT THOU HAVE ME TO DO? (Act 9:6)

What other question could have been asked? If Christ is God, and our trust is in Him-what else can we do, than to seek to work His will, walk in His way, and obey His Word?

What wilt Thou have me to do? This is the cry of every newborn soul. Saul of Tarsus, on the Damascus road, demonstrated that faith works, Faith in Christ is not a nerveless, spineless, mental assent. Faith is a living, pulsing, working affiance of the heart.

No man can believe in Christ with Saul’s kind of faith, and remain an inactive, inert imbecile. To know Him is to trust Him; and, to trust Him, is to serve Him.

If a man says he has faith, and he hath not works, can that kind of a faith save him? We say not. God has said, “Even so faith, if it hath not works, is dead, being alone.”

“As the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is dead.”

Saul cried, “What wilt Thou have me to do?” In other words, Saul acknowledged Christ. He professed his faith in Christ not with the signing of a creed, or by the uttering of a form of words, but he professed his faith by signing up for service.

“We live in deeds, not words,

In facts, not in figures on a dial.”

In these years of our maturity we have sought to weigh things. We have come to the conclusion that churches have lowered the bars to get members. We ask of would-be “joiners,” Do you believe in Jesus? Beloved, “the devils also believe, and tremble.” There is not a boy, not a girl in our Sunday Schools, who has not always believed in Christ, so far as intellectual assent is concerned. They are raised to “believe” in Him.

Saving faith is a far deeper thing. Saving faith includes the assent of the mind, the intellectual fact of Christ; but saving faith involves the affections of the heart. Saving faith is the putting on of Christ; it is making Him Lord; it is following in His footsteps.

Saul heard Christ saying, “I am Jesus, whom thou persecutest.” What did Saul do? Did he say, “I am wrong; I see my mistake; I acknowledge my error; I am convinced that Thou art God”? All of this Saul would have gladly done. However, Saul did far more. In effect Saul said, “I am ready to count all but loss for Thee, O Christ.” “I see Thee raised, exalted, seated, and I am ready to serve under Thy banner-‘What wilt Thou have me to do?'”

We do not say that all believers will serve as Paul served; we do say that all will serve. Following Pentecost, there arose a great persecution, and all the Christians were scattered abroad, and they all went everywhere preaching the Gospel.

O that we had another era of old-time heart-gripping faith in Christ. A faith that creates missionaries, and martyrs; a faith that stirs souls to testify, and makes the prayer-meeting a love feast; a faith that makes men willing to give, and to go in the service of the Lord.

There are some who may think that the preacher is verging toward salvation by works. Cast away your fears, I am merely teaching salvation by a faith that works.

Let me give you a few verses we penned the other day:

By grace through faith, and that alone,

I’m saved, from sin set free;

Not by the works that I have done,

Salvation came to me.

Saved not by works, but I will work,

Because I faith Him so;

No task evade, no duty shirk,

True faith must work, you know.

It is by grace I’m justified,

No boasting do I know;

My soul in Christ is satisfied,

Peace doth my heart o’er-flow.

He died, I live, I trust His grace,

Near by His Cross I stand;

He sighed, I sing; I take ray place,

Yield Him my heart and hand.

Saved not by works, but I will work,

Because I faith Him so;

No task evade no duty shirk,

True faith must work, you know.

Thus it was that Saul believed, and believing, he asked, “What wilt Thou have me to do?” Thus it was that when Saul was called by the grace of God, immediately he preached the Gospel. The Churches in Judea heard that “He which persecuted us in times past now preacheth the faith which once he destroyed.”

How rapidly did things transpire. In answer to Saul’s cry, “What wilt Thou have me to do?” the Lord gave response, “Arise, and go into the city, and it shall be told thee what thou must do.”

“The men which journeyed with him stood speechless, hearing a voice, but seeing no man. And Saul arose from the earth; and when his eyes were opened, he saw no man; but they led him by the hand, and brought him into Damascus. And he was three days without sight, and neither did eat nor drink.”

Thus it was that God left Saul alone in utter darkness to think through his experiences. That darkness of eyes, seemed to speak to him somewhat of the cost that his new faith might entail. What happened during those days? We may not know, but we do know that he learned to pray. These things we will study in our next address.

Fuente: Neighbour’s Wells of Living Water

4

Act 9:4. Chapter 26:14 says they all fell to the ground, but in Luke’s original account of the event we have only he falling to the ground. That evidently was because Saul was the only one in the group who was to receive the full effect of the shock. The other men did not even know the source or meaning of the voice. (See comments verse 7).

Fuente: Combined Bible Commentary

Act 9:4. And heard a voice saying unto him, Saul, Saul. While the others were stunned, stupified, and confused, a clear Light broke in terribly on the soul of one of the little company. A voice spoke articulately to him, which to the rest was a sound mysterious and indistinct. He heard what they did not hear; he saw what they did not see: to them the awful sound was without a meaning. He heard the voice of the Son of God: to them it was a bright light which suddenly surrounded them. He saw Jesus, whom he was persecuting (Conybeare and Howson).

Why persecutest thou me? Chrysostom paraphrases the question thus: What wrong great or small hast thou suffered from me, that thou doest these things? Me. The Lord here seems to recall His own words: He that heareth you heareth Me, and He that despiseth you despiseth Me (Luk 10:16), and also the kings solemn words in St. Matt., Mat 21:35-45.

Fuente: A Popular Commentary on the New Testament

4. “And he fell upon the earth, and heard a voice saying to him, Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” He not only heard this voice, but, gazing, while his eyes could endure it, into the midst of the glory, he saw distinctly the being who spoke to him. The question he heard, by the simple force of the word persecute, carried his mind forward to his bloody purpose in Damascus, and back to his bloody deeds in Jerusalem. Nor was this the only involuntary motion of his mind upon the instant; for here we must locate the additional words, “It is hard for thee to kick against the goads.” This language reveals to us that Saul’s conscience had not been altogether at rest during his persecutions, but that, like an unruly ox, he had been kicking against a goad, which urged him to a different course. Although he had acted ignorantly, and in unbelief, yet it was with so many misgivings, that he ever afterward regarded himself as the chief of sinners, having been the chief of persecutors. His conscience must have been instantaneously aroused by this reference to its past goadings.

Fuente: McGarvey and Pendleton Commentaries (New Testament)