But Saul, still breathing out threatenings and slaughter against the disciples of the Lord, came to the high priest
Stephen has just been stoned, and Saul helped it happen by word and deed. Now he is not cooling down. He is hunting believers further afield. The verse raises the question the whole chapter answers: what does God do with a man at the peak of his hatred?
The word "still" ties this verse back to what came before. Saul was not reacting to something new. He was continuing a campaign, and Jerusalem was no longer big enough for it.
Saul makes himself the apostle of Israel's hatred against the disciples of Jesus, the servants of God. He is not content to hunt them down in Jerusalem. He asks the high priest for letters, so that he can go and seize them in foreign cities. When Israel is in full opposition to God, Saul is the eager missionary of their malice. He acts in ignorance, no doubt, but he is the willing slave of his Jewish prejudices.
Notice where Saul goes for backing: to the high priest, the top of the religious system. Nothing in his life was irreligious. That is what makes the picture frightening.
As a man he had a good conscience, but it was poorly enlightened. He did things he thought he ought to do against Jesus. Conscience is so often distorted by education, and that was his case. He followed its directions and obeyed its orders, and through that very thing he opposed Christ with all his might. He did the greatest possible wrong, and he did it in good conscience… With all our conscience, our religion, our learning, and the approval of the teachers of this world, we may be at open war with the Lord.
The verse calls them "the disciples of the Lord." Saul had not reckoned with who owned them.
Saul of Tarsus had been persecuting, in ignorance, the saints of God. He persecuted the disciples of Jesus of Nazareth. He had not thought that he was "breathing threats and murder" against the brothers of Christ. Then the Lord from heaven owned the people Saul was trying to destroy as His brothers — yes, as part of Himself. How great his distress must have been.
This was Saul's condition on the day mercy reached him.
What was there on Saul's part to bring him to God up to that moment? Was there any — I will not say merit, but the least repentance? — even any earlier regret? Was he not in the middle of his crusade against the name of Jesus? Was he not "breathing threats and murder" at the time? Who was so full of religious pride? Had he not the highest authority of that day on earth? He had no idea that this is no safeguard. It may be the greatest illusion, as it was in his own case.
He set out with letters to arrest believers. What happened next was not an improvement of Saul. It was a takeover.
And here we find Saul, helping on Stephen's death by word and deed. Spurred on by these events, and still breathing threats and murder, he asked the high priest for letters to carry on his war against Christ. The high priest was quick to help him in his zeal, and gave them. While he was doing this, the Lord took him up. Saul was the apostle of the hatred of the human heart, and of God's chosen people, against God and against His Christ. The Lord took him up to make him the apostle of His sovereign grace, which he had experienced in his own person, and of the glory of Christ which he had seen.
Saul's case was not filed away as an exception. He later gave the reason himself: no one afterwards should think they are beyond reach.
Saul was therefore taken up as a pattern convert, a pattern convert of the day of grace. He wrote later that he obtained mercy so that in him first Jesus Christ might show the whole of His longsuffering, as a pattern for those who would afterwards believe on Him for eternal life (1 Tim. 1:16). Our blessed Lord displayed the whole of His patience towards Saul of Tarsus, the chief of sinners. So all future ages would know His heart of grace, and the worst of sinners, as people say, would take courage to trust Him.
- Still — his hatred had not cooled after Stephen. Jerusalem was not enough, so he chased believers into other cities.
- Sanctioned — the high priest handed him letters. His conscience, learning and religion all backed him, and he was at open war with the Lord.
- Seized — the ones he hunted were "the disciples of the Lord," and the Lord from heaven owned them as part of Himself.
- Saved — no repentance, no regret, no prayer. Grace reached him mid-crusade, and his religious authority was no safeguard at all.
- Sample — the Lord made the apostle of man's hatred the apostle of sovereign grace. Saul stays on record as the pattern, so the worst of sinners dare trust Christ.
and asked of him letters to Damascus, to the synagogues, so that if he found any who were of the way, both men and women, he might bring [them] bound to Jerusalem.
Saul does not act on impulse. He goes for paperwork: official letters that let him hunt down believers in a foreign city. Two things stand out here — the religious authority he leans on, and the strange name the first Christians carried.
Saul's request was not empty. His letters carried real weight far outside Judea:
The high priest and elders in Jerusalem held the same kind of spiritual authority over the synagogues of nearby countries that the pope and cardinals have since claimed over the churches in communion with Rome. They issued orders. Over their own people they had real power: they could expel a man from the synagogue, have him whipped, or put him in prison. When they had reason to use this authority, they sent out messengers, called apostles, carrying letters of command to the local synagogues.
Damascus lay far outside Judea, and that distance is part of the point:
He who was to go out to all the world with the gospel could not, in earlier days, rest in his legal zeal within the bounds of Jerusalem or Judea.
The phrase Saul used for his targets is unusual. It suited something that matched neither of the religions around it:
At this time Christianity had no name. It had come into the world, but was not of it, nor of its ways. It was not Judaism with its ceremonies, instituted by God, though now corrupted by man. It was not heathenism, with its wild rites of uncleanness and abomination. It was a strange and heavenly thing, governed by no principle that governed the world. And it had no name. People called it "the way."
A warrant could identify these people by one vague word. One writer explains what made that possible:
Saul begged the high priest for permission to arrest the Christians in Damascus. He knew one thing was enough: the written authorisation only had to describe them as men and women of "the way"… to be a Christian was a way of life, and not only in certain respects but in every aspect of life. What is more, the walk of the believers, alone and together, was so distinctive that people could see it as a particular "way".
Saul's warrant made no exception for women. And prison was not the end of the plan:
Before he sets out on his strange mission he goes to the high priest and asks for official papers… What a task! What a business! To bring men and women, who loved Jesus, bound to Jerusalem, and force them to blaspheme His holy name or die.
Nothing in the verse hints at hesitation. One writer looks past Saul's record to what filled his heart:
His outward life was blameless. He was careful to keep every detail of the law's ritual. Yet in his heart he held the bitterest desire for revenge against those who had accepted Jesus of Nazareth as Lord and Christ… As far as we are told, he never once had a doubt about his course… It is certain, in any case, that he had never sought Christ.
The verse sets up a collision. Saul wanted religion's highest approval for a campaign of death. On the road he met something else:
This was the man who was full to the brim with deadly hatred. He wanted the highest religious approval for a war to the death against every man or woman who called on the Lord Jesus. Armed with the high priest's letter, he came near Damascus. Then a light out of heaven flashed round him. He fell to the ground and heard a voice accusing him of persecuting the One he refused to own as Lord.
Set beside other conversions, this one stands out:
The conversion of the dying robber was a striking display of fitting though sovereign grace; that of the living pursuer of the saints to prison or death was far higher.
- Letters — Saul asked the high priest for written authority to the synagogues in Damascus. Jerusalem's leaders truly held power over Jewish communities abroad: they could expel, whip and imprison.
- Distance — his zeal would not stay inside Jerusalem or Judea. The man who later carried the gospel to the world first crossed borders to stamp it out.
- The Way — the faith had no name yet. A warrant could still find its people by their walk alone, because that walk was so different.
- Men and women — his warrant spared neither sex. He meant to drag believers to Jerusalem and force them to blaspheme the name they loved.
- Grace — he had never once sought Christ. Yet the light from heaven found him, and the conversion of this living persecutor stands higher even than the dying robber's.
But as he was journeying, it came to pass that he drew near to Damascus; and suddenly there shone round about him a light out of heaven,
Saul is at the peak of his campaign against the followers of Jesus, almost at Damascus, when heaven stops him. Two small words carry the verse: "suddenly," and "from heaven."
The verse catches Saul mid-journey. Who sent him, and how hard he was driving himself, sharpen what happens next.
Here we see the most striking instance of his zeal for the Jews' religion. The damage done among believers in the Lord Jesus in Judea was not enough for him. He persecuted them even to foreign cities. His authority and commission came from the high priest, the chief priests, and the whole council of the elders. His zeal was so unbounded that he allowed himself no midday rest. While the sun was at its strongest he pushed on his way, and had come very near his goal. We see him in the pride of his greatness, when suddenly he is struck to the ground by a light greater than the brilliant sun.
Paul described that light again years later. His own words give the measure of it.
Commenting on it later, the Apostle described it as "a light from heaven, brighter than the sun." Since it was midday, that would be the sun at its most brilliant. The sun may shed its rays of light, heat and life-giving properties on the natural body. But it takes a greater light out of heaven to affect the soul.
That brightness had a source, and the source was a face.
He is breathing out threats and slaughter. He is going to drag those simple, faithful Christians to Jerusalem, really for their murder. In that moment a light brighter than the sun at noon shines about him and those with him. Picture the Eastern noonday sun, casting its rays over all the land in undimmed splendour. And yet a brighter light dimmed it. What was that mightier light? "For God, who said, 'Let light shine out of darkness,' has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ." Where did that light come from? It came from the face of the Man in glory, and the brightness of that face eclipsed the sun at noon... It was light from heaven that struck him down: not an earthquake, not a lightning flash, not a hand.
The hour of day and the men walking beside him answer anyone who calls this a vision inside Saul's head.
The hint in Paul's later account is that it was "about midday," more precise than Acts 9:3. This makes the vision far more striking. It was not a trance, but an open fact. The light which shone around him out of heaven outshone the sun at midday, in the presence of men who were travelling with him. Deception was impossible.
The light stopped more than Saul's body. What fell with him was his own will.
Occupied in this way, he approaches Damascus. There, at the height of an unbroken career of self-will, the Lord Jesus stops him. A light from heaven shines around him, and wraps him in its dazzling brightness. He falls to the earth, and hears a voice saying to him, "Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?" The glory that threw him to the ground, together with that voice, left no doubt: the authority of God was revealed in it. His will broken, his pride overthrown, his mind subdued, he asks, "Who are you, Lord?"
Saul was not alone on the road, and what his companions saw was not what he saw.
The Lord had His eye on him. They all fell to the earth; they all saw the sudden light; Saul alone saw the Lord. All heard a sound, but not the voice of Him who spoke to Saul... He was to be an eyewitness of the glory of the Lord, and a witness to the words which He had personally spoken to him. But it was the glorified Lord. He had not known the Lord in His humiliation; he was to begin with the glory.
- Suddenly — the Lord met Saul at the peak of his rage, pressing on without even a midday rest, close to the city.
- Light — the flash outshone the noonday sun; the sun reaches the body, but only a light from heaven reaches the soul.
- Face — the brightness came from the face of Jesus Christ in glory. Paul said the same light has shone in believers' hearts.
- Fact — it happened at midday before witnesses, not in a trance; deception was impossible.
- Glory first — Saul's will, pride and mind collapsed at once. He had not known Christ in His humiliation, so he began with the glory.
and falling on the earth he heard a voice saying to him, Saul, Saul, why dost thou persecute me?
Saul is on the road to Damascus to arrest believers. A light drops him to the ground, and a voice speaks his name twice. The question is not "why are you persecuting them?" That one word, "Me," carries the weight of the verse.
The words came to Saul in the language he had grown up with.
"I heard a voice speaking to me, and saying in the Hebrew language, Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me?" Imagine hearing your own mother tongue from glory. That is what Saul heard that day… And be sure of this, when God speaks to a sinner, He always makes him understand… When God speaks to a man, He singles that man out. The man is like a wounded deer. A deer hunter goes out, and a whole herd may pass by, but he takes aim at only one. The wounded deer then leaves the herd and goes off alone to die. When the Holy Spirit convicts a man of his sin, he gets alone with God.
The Speaker had every right to end Saul's life on the spot.
How completely grace is joined with the authority that so plainly belongs to the glorious Speaker! And how unanswerable is the question! It might have been a sentence of judgment, but it seeks only the soul's own judgment of itself.
Our instinct expects judgment to fall on such a man.
With our natural thoughts about God and His ways, what would you expect Him to do with a wretch like Saul? He was breathing out threats and murder against the disciples of the One he hated so terribly. Of course, you say, almighty power would sweep such a plague off the earth… But how different from all this natural thinking was His way with poor Saul. God will stop him — but with what? With the pit? No, with glory. A light from heaven, brighter than the sun, shone around him. At midday, when the sun is at its brightest, something brighter still stopped Saul.
Everything turns on the pronoun. Three words were possible; only one carries the full truth.
The voice did not say "Mine," nor even "us," but "Me." "Mine" would imply a company of people who belong to Christ — true indeed, but not the whole truth. "Us" would imply a company of people associated with Christ — also true, but not the full truth. "Me" means a company of people in union with Christ, and so closely joined to Him that to touch them is to touch Christ.
The question also holds a puzzle Saul could not solve.
"Why are you persecuting Me?" was the question. But Saul had never seen Him. How could he on earth persecute One in heaven? That question contained a truth, a revelation. This was the first glimpse of the Body of Christ, and it came, as was fitting, from the Head Himself. "Me," He said — not "My people," not "My saints," but "Myself."
He was on that road out of conviction, not carelessness.
What a revolution this brings about in his whole being! What a discovery of what man is at his best before God! All his strict conscientiousness, earnest religiousness, and blameless outward walk made him the most open enemy of Christ in glory the world had ever seen.
The name behind the voice was the last one Saul expected.
Fallen to the earth, he heard a voice charging him with persecuting the One he could not admit to be the Lord. The astonished Saul learns, to his utter confusion before God, that it was Jesus — Jesus persecuted in His own, who were one with Him.
The reach of "Me" does not stop at persecution.
The words should arrest us as they arrested Saul; there is surely a fullness in them that is little understood. To persecute one saint of God on earth is to persecute Christ. To despise or neglect one saint of God on earth is to despise and neglect Christ.
- Light. A light brighter than the noon sun stopped a man who was sure he was right. His religious zeal had made him the most open enemy of Christ.
- Voice. The Lord named him twice in his own language. When God speaks to a man, He singles him out and makes him understand.
- Question. What could have been a sentence of judgment came as a question. It sought Saul's own verdict on himself. God stopped him not with the pit, but with glory.
- "Me." Not "Mine," not "us," but "Me" — the first glimpse of the Body of Christ. Believers on earth are so joined to Christ in heaven that touching them is touching Him.
- Now. The same word reaches forward: to hurt, despise or neglect one of His people today is to do it to Christ Himself.
And he said, Who art thou, Lord? And he [said], *I* am Jesus, whom *thou* persecutest.
Saul is on the road, breathing out threats against the disciples of Jesus, when a light from heaven stops him. He answers with a title — "Lord" — before he knows the name, and the answer changes everything he believed.
Saul asks for a name. The way he asks tells you his will has already given way.
"And I said, Who are you, Lord?" He does not say, "Who are you?" No, he asks, "Who are you, Lord?" In a moment he senses it: I am in the presence of One who knows all about me. I am in the presence of One who Himself is God. He knew very well who it was; though, perhaps, he dared not mention His name. He was in the presence of God — in the presence of the exalted Son of Man. "Who are you, Lord?" His will breaks, once he recognises the Lord.
Three words undo a lifetime of religious effort. If the voice from the glory is Jesus, Saul must ask what his religion was worth — its high priest, its ruling council, all of it.
What a revolution this word caused in that mighty heart! It overthrew his confidence in man and in self, down to the foundations — everything his life had been building up with such zeal. "I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting." It was the Lord, beyond doubt. He declared He was Jesus, and Jesus was Jehovah. He dared not doubt any longer: to him it was self-evident. If Jesus was Jehovah, what then had his religion been? What had the high priest or the Sanhedrin done for him?
Saul had never laid a hand on Jesus. He had hunted His followers. Yet the Lord speaks of them as Himself.
The Lord of glory has His members on earth. "I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting." It was Himself: those poor disciples were bone of His bones and flesh of His flesh. He looked on them and cherished them as His own flesh. Two truths are tied to Saul's conversion: the glory, and the oneness of the saints with Jesus, their Head in heaven.
The same union means one thing for a believer and another for a persecutor.
These few words hold the oneness of the church with Christ, its Head in heaven. Here is the seed of the blessed truth of the "one body." To be at war with the saints is to be at war with the Lord Himself. Blessed truth for the believer, but how solemn for the persecutor!
You would expect judgment. What comes instead is light.
Think how we naturally picture God and His ways. What course would you expect Him to take with a wretch like Saul? He was breathing out threats and slaughter against the disciples of the One who was the object of his terrible hatred. Why, of course you say, Almighty power would sweep such a plague from the earth. But how different from all this natural thought of God was His way with poor Saul. Stop him God will; but with what? With the pit? No; but with glory. He comes not to hurl him into the bottomless pit, but to take him up, in the riches of grace and mercy.
Some older Bibles add "it is hard for you to kick against the goads" here. Commentators say these words belong to Paul's own later account, not to Luke's.
Luke gives us the first account of his conversion (Acts 9). From that record we should leave out these words: "It is hard for you to kick against the goads. And he, trembling and astonished, said, Lord, what will You have me to do? And the Lord said to him." The passage should simply run: "I am Jesus whom you are persecuting; but arise, and go," and so on. That the Lord did say, "It is hard for you to kick against the goads," Paul declared at Caesarea.
The picture comes from ploughing. It shows why resisting hurts the one who resists.
Goads were the pointed sticks that drove oxen on while ploughing. When the oxen kicked against them, they only hurt themselves. The Lord applied this picture to Paul when he was struck to the ground at his conversion.
- Light first. God stopped the persecutor not with the pit but with glory — the arrest was already mercy.
- Lord first. Saul bowed to the speaker's authority before he learned His name. The will bows first; the mind catches up after.
- Jesus. The name he was trying to wipe off the earth answered him from heaven. His whole religion collapsed in one sentence.
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- Both ways. That union comforts the believer and warns the persecutor. Touching the saints is touching Christ. Kicking against the goad only wounds the one who kicks.
But rise up and enter into the city, and it shall be told thee what thou must do.
A man who set out to arrest Christians is lying blind in the road. His first words ask for orders. The risen Lord gives him no doctrine and no career, only an address: get up, go into the city, and someone there will tell you the rest.
Saul's question is not curiosity about the future. Commentators hear in it a broken will. They set it beside the confident offer of another disciple who did not yet know his own heart.
He said, trembling and astonished, "Lord, what will You have me to do?" This time it is not the answer of another who did not yet know his own heart — "Lord, I will go with You," and so on. No, that was the will of man. It is rather, "Lord, what will You have me to do?" This soul was converted to Christ. Here was the will of man broken; the will of God alone allowed. This was the instinct and the voice of obedience — the first mark of the new man.
The record here does not include Saul's question; he reports it himself in his later account. Yet the Lord's reply counts on a heart already set on obeying. That obedience runs ahead of any settled peace about forgiveness.
In his own account to the Jews he tells us what he said: "What shall I do, Lord?" (Acts 22:10). The inspired historian does not quote it here, though he gives it later where it mattered. But in any case the Lord counts on obedience. He counts on it even before Saul could be expected to grasp the doctrine, or to rest in peace on the sprinkling of His blood… The newborn soul may not yet know that he is cleared of all guilt. Even then his heart is made up to obey. He does not obey through fear of punishment. Sovereign goodness draws him, and he submits to God's word… But even an apostle must be told what he must do; he cannot discover it for himself.
The man who had been hunting the Lord's people had every reason to expect a death sentence from heaven. The command he heard was a reprieve, and he never forgot it.
What must it have been to him to hear that comforting command, "Rise and enter the city"! The penalty of immediate death, with everlasting ruin to follow, was not to be measured out to him. This event stayed vivid in his memory. No wonder, then, that he could write in later years: "The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the foremost."
The whole of Paul's later usefulness is traced back by one writer to this single sentence spoken on the road.
He cried to Him in astonishment and submission: "Lord, what will You have me to do?" In that prayer we find the secret of all his later effectiveness as a servant of that Lord to whose will he then fully surrendered himself. He abandoned his own will so that the will of Christ should be supreme in his life and ways. That was the chief feature in this servant of the Lord, as it should be in all.
The Lord could have answered Saul on the spot. Instead He sent the answer through another believer. Commentators draw two lessons from this. One sees a check on independence:
How perfectly natural, then, that he should ask the Lord what he should do. But the Lord did not give him instructions independently of His own followers. He is told to go into Damascus, and there he would be told what he was appointed to do. Blinded by the light for the time, he needed the help of others to find his way.
The other notices who that helper was — not an apostle, and not the leadership in Jerusalem:
Here again was a striking break with all that had gone before among the apostles. The Lord commanded no return to Jerusalem. Saul must enter Damascus. There he would learn what had been appointed for him to do — not from an existing apostle, still less from the apostolic body, but from a disciple of no high position. This is how grace reigns: have we really learned this?
The reply did not end Saul's trouble; it opened three days of darkness. That gap was itself part of his training for the ministry ahead.
He asked what the Lord would have him do. The answer was a command: "Rise and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do." He had to wait for more instruction, and for deeper soul-searching, before he could enter the enjoyment of peace and deliverance. He was to be a chosen vessel for ministering the truth of God. So he had to learn from his own experience the difficulties souls face in passing out of darkness into light.
- Arrested. The voice from heaven gave no sentence. It gave a command: get up and go. That was mercy to the man who called himself the foremost of sinners.
- Surrendered. His question marks a will broken; where another had once said "I will go with You," Saul now asks only for orders.
- Sent. The road gave him no answer. Christ sent him into the city to hear it from someone else — dependence built in from the first hour.
- Served by another. Commentators differ here. One says Saul could not stand apart from God's people. Another says grace passed the apostles by and used a disciple of no high position.
- Shaped by waiting. Blindness and delay stood between the question and the answer. The future teacher of struggling souls learned the darkness from the inside.
But the men who were travelling with him stood speechless, hearing the voice but beholding no one.
The men travelling with Saul to Damascus stood inside the same light and heard the same voice from heaven. Yet they came away with nothing. Two questions follow. What did they hear? And why does Paul later say in Acts 22:9 that they did not hear the voice at all?
One Greek word covers what Saul heard and what his companions heard. The form of that word marks the difference between them.
The word often means 'voice', and that is the right translation in verse 4, where Saul heard plainly what the Lord said to him. Here his companions did not hear a single word clearly, as Acts 22:9 tells us. Yet they did hear that someone was speaking. So 'sound' seems the more accurate word for what happened. A small difference in the form of the Greek phrase confirms this. The genitive case, which points to a part, appears where the physical effect was incomplete. The accusative appears where the words came home in power.
This verse and Acts 22:9 look like a clash. The writers quote Acts 22:9 in an older translation, which reads "they heard not the voice." Their answer is simple: hearing a sound is not the same as catching the words.
Acts 9 says that Saul's companions heard "a voice." Chapter 22 says that "they heard not the voice of Him that spoke to me." So they heard a sound — which really was the "voice" — but they could not make out the words spoken; they did not hear them. The Lord's communication was to Saul alone, and he alone received it. The same thing happened in John 12. A voice came from heaven to our blessed Lord in answer to His prayer, "Father, glorify Your name." Those who "stood by, and heard it, said that it thundered: others said, An angel spoke to Him." They also heard the voice, but did not understand it.
They saw the light but no person, and heard a sound but no words. That half share had a purpose: they could confirm the event without owning the message.
His travelling companions were witnesses to the truth of the vision, but did not know of the revelation entrusted to Paul. The bright light shone around them, but they did not see the Lord. They heard a voice, but not the words of Him who spoke. Paul was a witness of what he had seen and heard. Paul's companions were able to testify to the vision, which was a real thing, and not an invention of Paul for his own glory.
These men shared the road and the light, and none of it changed them. One writer marks the gap between watching an event and hearing God speak to you.
Others were with him when the brightness of the glory of the Lord Jesus struck him to the ground. These men "saw indeed the light." They saw many of the outward things that had stopped this furious zealot. But as he himself says, "they heard not the voice of Him that spoke to me." Here is the grand point. The voice must speak "to me." "The God of glory" must appear "to me," before I can live as a pilgrim and stranger in this world. Faith that is national or in the family is not enough. Only personal faith makes us real witnesses for God in the world.
Here the men are standing, yet Paul's own retelling puts them on the ground. Commentators do not claim certainty; one offers a reconstruction from the story.
Paul, telling the story before Festus and Agrippa, says that all had fallen to the earth before he heard the voice speaking to him (Acts 26:14). Here is one explanation drawn from the narrative. The light startled them. They heard a voice they could not make sense of and could not explain. The company might well have stood speechless, as if stopped suddenly in their course. The next moment they were face down on the ground, and the conversation between the Lord Jesus and Saul took place.
God can aim a voice so that only one person takes in its meaning. One writer carries that over to the Lord's call at His coming.
At the conversion of Saul, his companions heard a voice — that is, the sound of a voice. "But they did not hear the voice of Him that spoke to me," that is, the meaning of the voice. So will it be when the Lord Himself descends from heaven. All His own will hear the shout and understand what it means. If others hear it, it will only seem like the roll of distant thunder.
- Sound. The companions caught the noise of a voice, but not one clear word. The Greek marks that gap with a different form of the same word.
- Word. Saul alone received the words, because the Lord spoke them to him and to no one else.
- Witness. What little they saw and heard made them honest witnesses that the vision was real. The revelation itself stayed with Paul.
- Personal. Sharing the road and the light saved nobody. Faith does not pass down from nation or family. It comes when the voice speaks to me.
- Selective. God can send a voice that only its intended hearers understand. The same will hold when the Lord calls His own at His coming.
And Saul rose up from the earth, and his eyes being opened he saw no one. But leading [him] by the hand they brought him into Damascus.
Saul left for Damascus hunting the followers of Jesus, with letters from the high priest in his hand. He reached the city blind, holding someone else's arm. Commentators read both the blindness itself and what it showed about the man.
Commentators explain his blindness as the effect of a brightness his eyes could not take.
When he rose up, Saul turned out to have no power to see — blinded, we may well say, by excessive light. So they led him by the hand into Damascus, and for three days he saw nothing and neither ate nor drank. A deep work went on in a soul able to feel grace and truth as deeply as he could judge himself by the light of God. That light had exposed the empty wickedness of religion that is all outward form, even at its best. It had brought the zealous missionary, armed with power to investigate and punish, to where Job of old was brought — to hate himself in dust and ashes.
His companions stood in the same light and walked away seeing:
He obeyed the command to rise up. He had strength to walk, but he could not see. The dazzling glory of the light from heaven had blinded him. So his companions led him by the hand and he entered the city. They had seen the light, but were not blinded. He alone had seen the Lord Jesus on that occasion.
Older translations say "he saw no man"; the ESV says "he saw nothing." Either way, commentators read the darkness over his eyes as a picture of his soul.
It was, without doubt, real blindness. But that blindness showed the state of his soul at that moment. Until his glorified Lord met him, he thought he saw clearly. He had thrown himself into persecution with all the energy of his strong will. He was sure he was serving God by hunting out the followers of Jesus of Nazareth. Now everything had changed. The light he thought he had turned out to be complete darkness, so he could see nothing. He was helpless too, and depended on his own servants for help. The man whose name struck fear into timid disciples arrived at his destination as helpless as a baby!
He had planned how he would enter Damascus. The way he came through the gate turned that plan inside out.
He set out on his journey like an officer sent to hunt people down. No doubt he thought the Christians at Damascus would be easy prey, as so many in Jerusalem had been. In fact he entered the city as a captive, led by the hand until he reached the house of Judas... He entered with the letters from the high priest that authorised his commission. He never delivered them. Another commission, just given to him, had replaced the old one. And he could not refuse to obey it.
The same contrast is drawn between the two ends of his journey:
What a difference between Saul of Tarsus as he left Jerusalem, and the same Saul as he entered Damascus! He left Jerusalem breathing out threats and murder against the disciples; he entered Damascus a blind, helpless man, led by his companions, his physical condition a picture of his mental state, his rage and his purpose completely overthrown.
That hand had carried letters from the high priest. Now another hand leads it.
The first thing we notice about the hand of Paul (or Saul) is this: another took control of it. He was led by the hand. This man's hand had held the authority of the Jewish ruling council against the name of Christ. Now we see him bowed to the will of another. That is an important thing for us to notice. If we are to serve, we must know what it is to have our wills subdued. We cannot serve well with a weakened sense of the Lordship of Christ.
The blindness was not the end of the story. The same glory that closed his natural eyes gave him a sight he never had.
Human eyes could look at the lowly Babe of Bethlehem, could look on the Man of Sorrows... but His ascension-glory is beyond the perception and grasp of mere humanity. His enemies fell to the ground as dead in the presence of the light of it, a radiance brighter than the noonday eastern sun. They saw the light and were afraid. Saul was blinded by the glory of that light. Yet its moral perfection shone into his heart, by the power of the Holy Spirit, "to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ."
- Light first. The glory of the risen Christ, brighter than the noon sun, took his sight. Too much light blinded him, not too little.
- Light exposes. What he had called clear vision turned out to be darkness; the blank over his eyes matched the state of his soul.
- Light overturns. The man sent to hunt believers down entered Damascus as a captive. His letters were never delivered, and a new commission replaced the old.
- Light subdues. The hand that once carried the council's authority is now the hand another leads. A servant's first lesson is a subdued will.
- Light gives sight. The same glory that closed his eyes shone into his heart, giving him the knowledge of God in the face of Jesus Christ.
And he was three days without seeing, and neither ate nor drank.
Saul is led into Damascus a beaten man — blind, fasting, and silent for three days. Scripture never records what he thought in that room. Yet commentators find in these bare details the picture of a soul pulled apart and remade.
His blindness was real, and it matched what had happened inside him. The man who was sure he served God now had nothing left to see by.
As he explained later, he "could not see because of the brightness of that light" which had shone around him, and into his soul, from heaven. It was, no doubt, real blindness. But it was a blindness that showed the state of his soul at that moment. Until his glorified Lord met him, he thought he saw clearly. He had thrown himself into persecution with all the energy of his strong will, and he was sure he was serving God by hunting down the followers of Jesus of Nazareth. Now everything had changed. The light he thought he had turned out to be complete darkness, so he could see nothing. What is more, he was helpless. He had to depend on his own servants to lead him by the hand into Damascus. The man whose name struck fear into timid disciples arrived as helpless as a baby!
God had a purpose in shutting him off from everyone around him for those days.
But he was blind. This was so that the inward work could be fully done in him, and so that he could feel the immense change in his soul before God in its true power, with no hindrance or interruption from man.
He did not choose to fast. He could not eat, because his settled confidence had just collapsed.
It is a mercy from God when a false peace is smashed up. The great bitterness that follows is not pleasant, but it is still the way to God. See Saul of Tarsus here, three whole days unable to eat or drink. When a man goes off his food like this, his mind must be in deep turmoil. The fact is, Saul had made a terrible discovery. For all his blameless life and religious zeal, he was at heart an enemy of God and His Son. The best man of his time saw himself as "the foremost" of sinners!
Commentators see more here than distress. They see a passage through death into new life.
Being blind, nothing distracted his mind, and his thoughts were not even turned aside to food or drink. Before his service began, Ezekiel had sat among the captives at Chebar and "sat there overwhelmed among them seven days" (Ezek. 3:15). Saul sat overwhelmed in Damascus for only three days, but his experience went far deeper... In those three days he plainly passed through a spiritual process of death and resurrection. Those days laid the foundations in his soul of what he later put like this: "I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me" (Gal. 2:20).
Saul's timetable, though, is not a rule. The order and the length differ from person to person.
Sometimes a person gets forgiveness and peace before he learns the killing power of the law... Saul was in such a state that for three days he neither ate nor drank. I do not doubt it was with him deep exercise of soul; but there is, of course, no prescription as to time.
Blind and fasting, cut off from company, he was not cut off from God.
Blind, and fasting for three days and three nights, he remained in the house of his host. We do not read a word about visitors or sympathetic friends around him. To One, however, he could and did open out. Saul, the persecutor, prayed to God in heaven. Nor was it one single request, poured out in the agony of his soul... Blind and without food, he kept praying.
The Lord watched every step of Saul's distress. How He dealt with him carries a lesson for anyone trying to comfort a troubled person.
The Lord's eyes had followed him as others led him into Damascus... He had seen how agonizing his spiritual conflict was, and He had heard his prayers. What encouragement this gives to troubled souls... And what a warning against rushing in too soon to offer comfort and peace! One danger today is the effort, so often made, to shorten the exercises of a newly awakened soul instead of deepening them.
- Blind — his lost sight matched a deeper loss. The light he thought he had turned out to be darkness.
- Alone — blindness shut out every human voice, so the inward work could go on before God with nothing to interrupt it.
- Starved — God smashed a false peace, and the best man of his day found he was at heart an enemy of God.
- Buried — those three days took him through death and resurrection. They laid the foundation for "It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me."
- Praying — blind and fasting, he still opened out to God. The Lord let that go deep before He sent Ananias with comfort.
And there was a certain disciple in Damascus by name Ananias. And the Lord said to him in a vision, Ananias. And he said, Behold, [here am] I, Lord.
Saul of Tarsus has just met the Lord, and he is now in Damascus. The Lord's next move is not to send an apostle. He speaks the name of an unknown believer who lives in that same city. What follows is one of the frankest conversations between a servant and his Master in Acts.
Scripture gives Ananias no title. He is simply a disciple. One writer draws two things from that.
The essential work in Saul's soul was finished, and now the Lord uses a human servant. Two things about that servant are worth noting. First, he was just "a certain disciple," clearly of no special prominence. It was fitting that the only man to help Saul in any way was a very humble one. Saul had been very prominent as an opponent and was soon to be very prominent as a servant of the Lord. The disciple who helped him was undistinguished and retiring. Yet he was near enough to the Lord to receive His instructions and talk with Him. It is often like this in God's ways. Second, Ananias lived in Damascus. So he was one of those against whom Saul had been breathing out threats and murder. One of the very people Saul would have murdered was sent to call him "Brother Saul." Saul's evil was repaid with good in this overwhelming way.
Saul got no special treatment for the man he would become.
Even Saul, apostle though he was, had to enter by the same lowly gate as anyone else. And so we have the story of Ananias, and the ways of the Lord. The Lord did not use some great apostle, nor even Philip, but a disciple at Damascus named Ananias, to whom He spoke in a vision.
The same Lord who spoke to Saul now speaks to Ananias. But the two men did not hear Him the same way.
And now the Lord spoke to that servant in a vision, addressing him by name, as He had personally addressed Saul. Yet how great the difference! To Saul it was One previously unknown to him who spoke. To Ananias it was One with whom that disciple was well acquainted. "Ananias," said the Lord. "Here I am, Lord," was the ready response.
Ananias answers without hesitating. One writer notes what lay behind that.
But see the way the Lord meets him. There was in Damascus a man named Ananias. The Lord always has servants to do His work, blessed be His name! Ananias was free to serve the Lord. What a happy thing it is to be a servant of the Lord. He was ready to do anything the Lord wanted.
The exchange runs both ways. The Lord does more than give an order, and Ananias replies in the same tone.
Notice, in chapter 9:10, how familiarly the Lord talks with His disciple. He opens His mind to him as to a friend. He tells him the circumstances that affect His own mind. Then Ananias answers in the same blessed confidence, "Lord, I have heard by many of this man," and so on. Of course Ananias had to obey the Lord. But this shows the unbounded confidence with which he could open his whole heart, because Jesus was so intimate with him.
Ananias then raises an objection, and the Lord's response shapes how we may pray.
So far from restraining prayer, we really need more openness with God. Scripture fully warrants this, and the case of good Ananias shows it (Acts 9:10-17). The Lord sends him to Saul of Tarsus to receive him after his conversion. But Ananias has a difficulty in his mind, and with beautiful simplicity and reverence he lays it before the Lord... Notice that the Lord does not reprove Ananias in the least. This incident, left on record, encourages us to tell the Lord about all our difficulties with reverent intimacy.
Saul saw Ananias coming before Ananias was ever told to go. Kelly reads this as God removing any suspicion that the story had been arranged between them.
Saul was to be, beyond all others, a witness of Christ to the Gentiles. So God took special care to remove from every fair and honest person any suspicion that this had been arranged between Jews. Outwardly the vision of glory was unmistakable before many witnesses. Of the whole company, only Saul heard what passed between the Lord and His servant. But divine wisdom told Ananias what had happened, without Saul or anyone else on earth telling him.
- Called. The Lord speaks the name of one obscure believer. He addresses Ananias by name, just as He had addressed Saul.
- Known. Saul heard a voice he did not know. Ananias heard a Master He was already well acquainted with.
- Ready. "Here I am, Lord" is the answer of a man free for anything the Lord wants; the Lord always has such servants.
- Frank. The Lord opens His mind as to a friend. Ananias answers with his real difficulty, and no rebuke comes. So we may bring every difficulty to Him.
- Used. No great apostle comes. Saul enters by the same lowly gate as anyone else, helped by one of the people he had come to arrest.
And the Lord [said] to him, Rise up and go into the street which is called Straight, and seek in the house of Judas one by name Saul, [he is] of Tarsus for, behold, he is praying,
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
and has seen [in a vision] a man by name Ananias coming in and putting his hand on him, so that he should see.
The Lord tells Ananias where to find Saul of Tarsus, then adds a second detail. God has already shown the blind man in that house who is coming to heal him. The Lord is preparing two men in the same city, and neither one knows the other. The man He picks to restore Saul's sight is a nobody.
Saul had been three days without sight and without food. What God tells Ananias shows how close His eye had been. He had already given comfort to the man He struck down.
The Lord's eye was on Saul. Nor was that all. He gave him the hope of shortly regaining his eyesight. He had already seen the man who would come in and restore it, and God revealed his name too, though until then this man was a complete stranger to him. And now the Lord spoke to that servant in a vision, addressing him by name, as He had personally addressed Saul. Yet how great the difference! The One who spoke to Saul was a stranger to him. But Ananias knew well the One who spoke to him.
Saul was an apostle. Yet his next blessing did not come straight from heaven. It came through an ordinary believer in Damascus.
Three days and nights he neither eats nor drinks. The deep moral work of God went on in that converted heart. Yet even he, apostle though he was, must enter by the same lowly gate as anyone else. And so we have the story of Ananias, and the ways of the Lord. The Lord did not use some great apostle, nor even Philip. He spoke in a vision to a disciple at Damascus named Ananias. And he goes. The Lord also gave another vision to the apostle himself. In it Saul sees Ananias coming in and putting his hand on him, so that he might receive his sight.
Why send this man and not someone weightier? Two facts about Ananias answer that.
First, he was just "a certain disciple," clearly of no special prominence. It was fitting that the only man to help Saul in any way was a very humble one. Saul had been very prominent as an opponent and was soon to be very prominent as a servant of the Lord. His helper was a quiet, unknown disciple. Yet this man stayed close enough to the Lord to receive His instructions and talk with Him. It is often like this in God's ways. Second, Ananias lived in Damascus. So he was one of the people Saul had been breathing out threats and murder against.
Saul's vision and Ananias' errand matched each other in advance. So why lay hands on him at all?
Saul's main dealing was with the Lord Himself. But he must also learn that he cannot be independent of the people of God… The Lord adds that Saul has received a confirming vision. In it a man named Ananias comes to him and puts his hands on him, so that his sight may be recovered. The laying on of his hands had no supernatural power in itself. Instead, God chose to show His power alongside the fellowship that a believer expresses by laying on hands. So the Lord revealed His errand to Ananias, and gave Saul a matching vision, so that there could be no mistake.
Laying on hands did not always mean the same thing.
In Acts 9:12, 17 the healing of the body was a picture of the spiritual. In Acts 13:3 it was the act of the saints. It expressed their fellowship in the work to which the Holy Spirit had called the apostle Paul and Barnabas.
Saul would spend the rest of his life serving others. His first lesson was on the receiving end.
So Ananias, a simple disciple, is all the more fitting a messenger to Saul. The Lord appears to him in a vision and tells him to go to the house of Judas and look for this man. Saul has already seen him in a vision, in answer to his prayer, laying his hands on him so that he may receive his sight. So the man who is to minister to others in such a large and blessed way must first learn his own need of ministry, and receive it.
- Prayer — Saul is blind, without food and praying. God's eye was on him, and He tells Ananias the very house to find him in.
- Preparation — the Lord speaks to each man on his own. Saul's vision confirms the errand, so there can be no mistake.
- Person — the messenger is a small man: not an apostle, not Philip, but an unknown disciple Saul had been threatening.
- Hands — the hands hold no power of their own. God works through a believer's expressed fellowship, and the opened eyes picture something deeper.
- Pattern — before Saul can minister to others, he must enter by the same low door as everyone else and receive ministry himself.
And Ananias answered, Lord, I have heard from many concerning this man how much evil he has done to thy saints at Jerusalem;
The Lord has just told Ananias to go and find Saul, the man every believer feared. Ananias answers with an objection, and in making it he gives believers on earth a title they had never carried before — "your saints."
Ananias does not refuse. He lays the problem in front of the Lord, and the exchange shows how freely a servant may speak.
The Lord tells Ananias to look for Saul at Judas' house and restore his sight. Ananias answers respectfully, though he comes close to arguing back. The Lord overrules all his reluctance. He assures him of His own abounding grace, and also of Saul's genuine repentance, which fitted him for the wonderful work he was now called to. How fully, then, may we pour out the exercises of our hearts to Him! How completely may we count on the loving interest of the One who has all things at His disposal, and who takes an interest in our history from first to last!
The Lord never corrects Ananias for speaking. Commentators take the scene as a pattern for honest prayer.
So far from holding back prayer, we really need more frankness with God. Scripture fully warrants it, and the case of good Ananias shows it... Ananias has a difficulty in his mind, and with beautiful simplicity and reverence he lays it before the Lord... Notice that the Lord does not reprove Ananias in the least. The incident left on record surely encourages us to tell the Lord, with reverent intimacy, about all our difficulties.
Instead of a rebuke, the Lord answers by taking His servant into His confidence.
He begins to reason with the Lord. He had heard that this man had come to bind those who called on the name of the Lord... Of course he had to go and do what the Lord wanted. But the Lord explains the matter to him. He shares His thoughts about Saul with him: that Saul was a chosen vessel to bear His name, and that He would show him what he must suffer for His name's sake. In a word, the Lord opens His heart to Ananias, as to a friend whom He treats with full confidence.
Ananias judges the errand by Saul's record.
But Ananias — is he ready for this full expression of mercy to someone like Saul? Could he take in the new wine of this gospel of the glory, which could reach out and lay hold of a man like him? No; he objects... He cannot help supposing that it was all a mistake. Impossible that one like this could be laid hold of in this way, as a fit vessel to display the fullness of mercy.
Ananias calls the people Saul was hunting "your saints." That word became the usual New Testament name for Christians.
Acts 9 applies the title "saints" to believers of the present age for the first time. The earlier Scriptures often describe Old Testament believers this way... The letters use the title constantly. Superstition gives it to a few special people, such as Matthew or Peter, and only after they have died. Scripture gives it here and now to every blood-washed believer in the Lord Jesus. Note this fact carefully.
The title marks out who a person belongs to, and it carries a way of life with it.
In the New Testament the word used means "holy one." A saint is one set apart for God; he is such by calling... Saints are therefore a distinct, recognised group of people who belong to God — His saints. All Christians are included in this group, so the apostle could speak of "all saints." Christians need not shrink from owning the name God was pleased to mark them out with. They should always remember that there is a way of life that fits saints.
Ananias goes on to describe the believers Saul came to arrest as those who call on the Lord's name — the identifying badge of the early Christians.
It would seem from the book of Acts that calling on the Lord's name was the hallmark of a Christian. In Acts 9 Ananias, in his prayer to the Lord, speaks of Saul of Tarsus as having "authority from the chief priests to bind all who call on your name" (verse 14). And again, in verse 21, some were asking, "Is not this the man who made havoc in Jerusalem of those who called upon this name?"
- Fear — Ananias judges Saul by his reputation, and decides the errand must be a mistake.
- Freedom — he takes that difficulty straight to the Lord. Commentators call this a pattern of frank, reverent prayer.
- Favour — the Lord does not rebuke him; He answers by sharing His own thoughts about Saul with him, as with a friend.
- Fullness — the grace that reached Saul was bigger than the servant's sums. Ananias could not see how far mercy would go.
- Family name — "your saints" is the first use of the title for living believers. It belongs to every believer now, not to a few after death.
and here he has authority from the chief priests to bind all who call upon thy name.
The Lord has just told Ananias to find Saul, the man who came to Damascus hunting believers. Ananias objects, and his objection raises three questions: who were these hunted people, how far did Saul's authority reach, and why does the Lord let His servant argue with Him?
Ananias does not describe the targets as church members or a movement. He names them by what they do — they call on the name of Jesus. One writer treats this as the plain identifying mark of a believer, noting that the same description follows Saul around the chapter:
It would seem from the book of Acts that calling on the Lord's Name was the hallmark of a Christian. In Acts 9 Ananias, in his prayer to the Lord, speaks of Saul of Tarsus as having "authority from the chief priests to bind all who call on your name" (verse 14). And again, in verse 21, some were asking whether this was not the man who destroyed those who called on this name in Jerusalem. Indeed, is anyone saved who has not called on the Name of the Lord? … To be saved, the call need only be made once. But the references to the Christian company calling on the Lord's Name are in the continuous tense. They suggest that believers would normally be calling on the Lord.
That habit also says something about the One they call on:
Tell me I am not to worship Christ: you take away the only Christ I know. I have no other than the One I adore and worship with a thankful heart that owes everything to Him. … But more; calling on the name of the Lord is, so to speak, the definition of a Christian. Paul three times begged the Lord to take away the thorn, and the Lord heard his cry and answered. Stephen was calling out and saying, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit."
The word "here" matters. Saul's authority reached Damascus, a city outside Israel. One writer reads that choice as deliberate:
I can only conclude that Saul thought he had done such a good job with the Jerusalem Christians that he would spread his net wider. I don't know why he chose Damascus, it was quite a long way and it was outside of Israel. That may have been the point. Perhaps he was proving that he could strike at Christians outside the borders of historic Israel, so that fleeing believers would not think themselves safe even outside the country. So Damascus it was. He got letters from the chief priests to the synagogues there, so they would know he had official backing to deal with this error in the harshest possible way.
Ananias comes close to arguing back, and the scene is valued precisely for that closeness:
Ananias had communications from the Lord (vv. 10-12), which even in a vision drew out the expression of his extreme surprise. Nor can there be conceived a more exquisite unfolding of the free intercourse which grace has now opened between the heart of the Master in heaven and that of the servant on earth. Ananias on one side ventures respectfully even to the verge of remonstrance (vv. 13, 14) … as the Lord on the other overrules all reluctance by the assurance not only of His own abounding grace, but of Saul's genuine repentance fitting him for the wonderful work to which he was henceforth called.
The limit was in Ananias, not in his facts:
But Ananias — is he prepared for this full expression of mercy to someone like Saul? Could he understand the new wine of this gospel of the glory, which could come out and lay hold of someone like him? No; he objects… He cannot help supposing that it was all a mistake. Impossible that one like this could be laid hold of in this way.
Another writer names that attitude and turns it into a test for the reader:
Ananias, in Acts 9, was something of a Jonah, unprepared for full grace. And so shall we be, if we do not come to God ourselves as "the chief of sinners," taking up all sin as in our own persons.
The Lord does not scold Ananias for speaking. One writer draws the lesson for our own praying:
So far from restraining prayer, we really need more frankness with God. … The Lord sends him to Saul of Tarsus to receive him after his conversion. But Ananias has a difficulty in his mind, and with beautiful simplicity and reverence, he lays it before the Lord. … Notice that the Lord does not reprove Ananias in the least. The record of this incident encourages us to tell the Lord about all our difficulties with reverent closeness.
Yet the freedom to speak is not freedom to stay home. One short command closes the discussion:
"Go your way," said the Lord. This one command was enough to still every doubt and to settle every question that had arisen in his soul. He went his way and entered the house, honoured to be sent on such a mission.
- Named — believers are known here by one habit: they call on the name of Jesus. The wording points to an ongoing practice, not one moment.
- Worshipped — to call on that name is to pray to Christ. One writer calls this close to the definition of a Christian.
- Hunted — Saul's letters from the chief priests gave him official backing. He carried it outside Israel, so fleeing believers would feel safe nowhere.
- Questioned — Ananias had his facts right, but he expected too little mercy. One writer compares him to Jonah, unready for full grace.
- Sent — the Lord answers without a rebuke, then ends it with "Go." Frankness in prayer and quick obedience belong together.
And the Lord said to him, Go, for this [man] is an elect vessel to me, to bear my name before both nations and kings and [the] sons of Israel
Ananias hesitates. He has heard what this man from Tarsus did to believers in Jerusalem, and now the Lord sends him to lay hands on him. The Lord answers in one sentence, and Saul's whole future is in it.
The Lord meets the objection without a word of correction. Commentators see in this an invitation to bring our own difficulties to Him just as openly.
Far from holding prayer back, we really need more openness with God. Scripture fully supports this, and the case of good Ananias shows it (Acts 9:10-17). The Lord sends him to Saul of Tarsus to receive him after his conversion. But Ananias has a difficulty in his mind, and with beautiful simplicity and reverence, he lays it before the Lord… Notice that the Lord does not reprove Ananias at all. The incident is left on record to encourage us to tell the Lord about all our difficulties, with closeness and reverence.
The ESV calls Saul a chosen instrument; older translations read chosen vessel. The picture is worth pausing on. A vessel is not a pipe that passes things along. Someone must fill it first.
As the chapter unfolds, we see a beautiful picture of a true servant as a vessel of the Lord. We sometimes speak of being channels of blessing. But does Scripture ever speak this way? A channel is only a pipe that something flows through; it holds nothing. A vessel holds something, and it must be full before it can give to others.
The commission falls into three parts. The last part shows the reach of the gospel widening across the book of Acts.
(1) The choice was the Lord's, and this must be so with every true minister of God. (2) The chosen vessel was to preach Christ, to tell of His glory, to declare His name. (3) His mission was to go to the Gentiles, to kings, and to the children of Israel. In Acts 2 the circle covered only Jerusalem. In Acts 8 we saw it reach Samaria. Now we find it has become world-wide.
Nothing in Saul's past pointed to this. One writer turns to the potter of Jeremiah 18 to explain how Saul could be a chosen vessel before he was ever a converted one.
His past gave no sign of what he was to be. Yet God would make the apostle of His fullest grace to the uncircumcision — that is, the Gentiles — out of the apostle of man's deepest hatred against Christ. The Great Potter (see Jer. 18:1-6) was about to lay hold of a very unlikely-looking lump of clay and transform it. Until now that "chosen vessel" had been in the Potter's mind — from now on the Potter's mind would be in the vessel.
The order of the three groups is not accidental, and it runs against everything Saul had been.
Saul had gone further in the Jews' religion than many of his own age in his own nation. He was far more zealous for the traditions of his fathers (Gal. 1:14). No one would have thought he had any liking for Gentiles. His zeal for the Law and for Jewish traditions was unquestionable. Yet he was the vessel chosen to bear Christ's name before the Gentiles and kings, as well as the people of Israel. So the field of service given to him was the widest of all… He could preach to his own countrymen, and he did. But the Lord's word to Ananias (Acts 9:15) mentions service to them last, even though Saul always went to his own people first when he could.
The commission is not a promise of ease. The breadth of the testimony and its cost match each other.
But the Lord answers by telling him that Saul was a chosen vessel to Him, to bear His Name in testimony of the widest range — to both Gentiles and Jews. Here, though, the Gentiles come before the Jews. What he is to suffer matches the breadth of his testimony. To bear the Name of Jesus means suffering; witness and martyr are the same word.
- Chosen. The choice was the Lord's, not Saul's — the same must be true of every true servant of God.
- Shaped. Saul was in the Potter's mind long before his conversion; afterward the Potter's mind was in him.
- Filled. A vessel is not a channel that just passes things on. It holds what God puts in it before it can give to anyone.
- Sent. The Lord gave the widest field of all to the man least likely to care for Gentiles — Gentiles first, kings next, Israel last in His order.
- Costly. To carry that Name is to suffer for it; the measure of the suffering matches the reach of the testimony.
for *I* will shew to him how much he must suffer for my name.
The Lord sends Ananias, a disciple in Damascus, to Saul with a forecast of pain rather than a promise of safety. The man who had been hunting believers learns what his new life will cost. Why does the Lord open His servant's career by pointing to suffering instead of success?
Notice what the Lord chose to announce — and what He left out:
When the Lord first met Saul of Tarsus on the road to Damascus, and three days later sent His servant Ananias to him, at that very time He said: "I will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of My name." He did not speak of great things he would do so much as the great things he must suffer. Read Second Corinthians chapter 11 from verse 23 to the end, and you will find an amazing list of sufferings, and most of them are not even mentioned in the book of Acts. Few have ever suffered as Paul suffered, so he may indeed speak of it with authority.
That order held for the rest of his life:
Saul would carry His name before nations and kings and the sons of Israel, and all he did across the world of that day would be less than all he suffered for Christ's name. He really was a chosen vessel to the Lord — overflowing in labours of love, and even more beyond compare in his sufferings for Christ.
Saul had made others suffer. Now the position turns around, and Saul himself accepts it:
The Lord would show the man who had made others suffer what great things he himself must suffer for Christ's name. Later history proved this, and the sufferer accepted it fully.
Verse 15 names the audience — Gentiles, kings, the people of Israel — and verse 16 names the price. The two are tied together:
The Lord replies by telling Ananias that Saul was a chosen vessel to Him, to carry His Name in testimony of the widest range — to Gentiles and to Jews both. But the Gentiles come first here. What he must suffer matches the breadth of his testimony. To carry the Name of Jesus means suffering; witness and martyr are to be the same word.
One word study looks at the term translated "must" and groups this verse with the passages where the necessity comes from God Himself:
This word is general. It covers any kind of necessity — the necessity that lies in the nature of the case, or in particular the necessity that comes by divine appointment, and this gives the word greater strength. "Must" is the way it is most often translated. Many passages show the necessity established by the will and word of God, and Acts 9:16 is one of them.
The pain was not wasted time between periods of usefulness. It was where Paul grew to resemble his Master:
It was not so much in service as by suffering that all in Paul which was like the Lord came out. If Paul was nearest in likeness to Him, he would have the most to suffer. He had been brought to the feet of the Man of sorrows.
Take that element away, and something essential drains out of the Christian life:
Without the suffering here there can be little spiritual power for entering into the glory set before us. It would lose its true incentive and energy in the soul, because it would not be linked, as it should be, with the blessed Lord's pathway and life on earth. So the apostle's work as an evangelist was one continuous series of bitter persecutions, most of all from the Jews.
Was this only Paul's story? One writer sets a challenge:
Will you search all through the Scriptures and show me one example of a faithful witness for Christ who found his path an easy one? The idea of an easy path may push some people today into a place the Lord never called them to. But Paul, right at the start, was to suffer many things for the name of Christ.
- Chosen — to suffer. When the Lord announced Saul's calling, He put suffering at the centre, not achievement. Saul's sufferings would outweigh even his huge labours.
- Reversed. The Lord would now show the man who had made believers suffer what suffering costs. Saul accepted it fully.
- Proportioned. The width of the testimony set the depth of the cost. Carrying the Name to nations, kings and Israel meant carrying the pain of it too. Witness and martyr are one word.
- Necessary. "Must" here is not bad luck but divine appointment — a necessity established by the will and word of God.
- Formative. Suffering, more than service, brought out in Paul what was like the Lord. Scripture shows no faithful witness who found the path easy.
And Ananias went and entered into the house; and laying his hands upon him he said, Saul, brother, the Lord has sent me, Jesus that appeared to thee in the way in which thou camest, that thou mightest see, and be filled with [the] Holy Spirit.
Saul of Tarsus had spent three days without sight, waiting in a house in Damascus. The man God sent to him was not an apostle but a plain disciple — one of the people Saul had come to destroy — and his first word was "Brother."
Ananias claims no authority of his own. He tells Saul who sent him.
Ananias obeys at once. He goes to the house where Saul was staying, lays his hands on him, and tells him the errand he was sent on: not only to restore Saul's sight, but that he should be filled with the Spirit. The force of the message lay here. The Lord Jesus, who appeared to Saul on the road, had now sent Ananias supernaturally to bring His blessing. How clear it is that God was at work, and that the Lord Jesus was the revealer of His mind and the channel of His mercy.
A man with no office at all laid his hands on the church's greatest servant.
The most striking fact in the whole transaction is the gift of the Spirit through Ananias. The ordinary way of giving the Spirit was through the hands of an apostle. In Saul's case the wisdom of God broke clean through that way, if hands were used at all. Here every care was taken to show God laying all human pretensions in the dust. Using a disciple like Ananias lays the axe to the root of official pride. And this was where the Lord was calling out the most honoured servant He ever chose to use.
Even the messenger's name fits, and so does the order: the man who would serve others must first be served.
Ananias is therefore, as a simple disciple, all the more suited to be sent to Saul... So the man who is to serve others in such a large and blessed way must first learn his own need of ministry, and receive it. What a fitting messenger this Ananias must have seemed to the thankful and humbled man! His name means "the Lord has shown grace," and "grace" was indeed his newfound joy.
One word told Saul what he had become.
Ananias came in, put his hands on him, and said, "Brother Saul." What a thrill went through that man's soul as Ananias called him "Brother Saul." I understand it well. The week after my conversion, some simple Christians gave me the right hand of fellowship and let me take my place with them at the Lord's Supper. A deep thrill of joy went through my soul that they should acknowledge I was a child of God.
The title was not Ananias's invention.
Ananias goes, puts his hand on him, and addresses him by the sweet title of relationship which Christ began, set apart, and has given.
Saul's blindness and the gift of the Spirit belong together.
Saul had a fine natural mind, trained to the highest level. No doubt he believed he was able to judge all things. Yet this religious man was completely blind. He did not know his own need. He did not know Christ, or all that God is doing through Christ. He was even trying to rid the earth of everything that bore the name of Christ. But grace brings this highly intellectual bigot — blind to everything of Christ — into the presence of Jesus. At once he is blinded to everything of earth, so that his eyes may be opened in connection with the gift of the Holy Spirit.
The healing of Saul's eyes was not only physical.
Here we have the gospel, carried by Ananias from the Lord to Saul. It removed the fear of God that had filled his soul. It spoke peace to his troubled conscience. With a tender hand it drew out the barbed arrow of conviction. And Saul now receives the Spirit of God as a seal of this message of mercy. Until now his eyes had been blinded to everything but the darkness within. Now they can "look up" to the source from which it all came — to the very face of Jesus Christ in glory.
Being filled with the Spirit shows what had already happened in Saul.
He had been three days without sight, but now the time of darkness was over. He was to be filled with the Holy Spirit. That shows beyond dispute that he had now reached deliverance, along with the scales falling from his eyes and his receiving sight. Only a delivered soul could be filled with the Holy Spirit.
- Sender. Ananias brings nothing of his own. His words carry weight because the Lord Jesus sent him.
- Vessel. God passed by the apostles and used a plain disciple. That lays "the axe to the root of official pride."
- Word. Christ began this title and gave it. The man who hunted the church is now called brother.
- Sight. The trained religious mind was blind. Sight returns, and the eyes of the soul look up into the face of Christ in glory.
- Fullness. The Spirit fills a delivered soul. The three days of darkness end, and Saul stands as a delivered man.
And straightway there fell from his eyes as it were scales, and he saw, and rising up was baptised;
Three days of blindness end in a moment. In one short sentence Saul sees, gets up, and is baptized — and each step is worth a closer look.
The scales fell from Saul's physical eyes. Writers note that at the same moment he received another sight altogether. What he had seen on the road had crushed him; what he saw now was the same Person, held out to him in grace.
At the end of the three days, the Lord — Jesus Himself — worked through His servant Ananias. He removed the scales from Saul's eyes and filled him with the Holy Spirit. He also gave him another sight: to see that same Jesus, whose glory had overwhelmed him, in all the fulness of His grace. Jesus was now Himself to him the righteousness of God — a righteousness far higher than the one he had hoped to reach by the law.
Saul's sight did not come back straight from heaven. The Lord sent a man to carry it to him.
The message carried its force from this: the Lord Jesus, who had appeared to Saul on the road, now sent Ananias by God's own power to carry His blessing. How clear it is that God was at work, and that the Lord Jesus was the revealer of His mind and the channel of His mercy... Saul's conscience saw how empty man is at his best, and no man had more reason than he to know this from experience. The grace of God in the Lord Jesus was just as plain to him.
No official baptized Saul. Writers see the choice as deliberate, and point to the same pattern elsewhere.
The proclamation of the truth is far beyond the administration of its sign. Later we will see that Peter preached at Caesarea. He left it to others to baptize Cornelius, his relatives and his close friends. The same thing appears here. Nothing would have been easier than to use an official, at least a "deacon", if God had wanted that — and God takes no pleasure in breaking down His own order. A "disciple" baptizes the great apostle to the Gentiles.
Ananias told Saul to be baptized and wash his sins away. Writers are careful about what that water did and did not do.
He listened like an obedient child to Ananias, when told to arise, and be baptized, and wash away his sins, calling on the name of the Lord (Acts 22:16). We hardly need to remind the reader that the rite of baptism does not gain us forgiveness of our sins before God. Nothing but the blood of Christ can do that. Yet by what he did, Saul broke completely with the past and condemned his whole former course. He took his place outwardly as a disciple through baptism, and he called on the name of the Lord, openly confessing Him.
Ananias came with two things in view: Saul's sight and the Holy Spirit filling him. Writers take the second as proof of where Saul now stood.
He had been three days without sight. Now the time of darkness was over. He was to be filled with the Holy Spirit, and this shows beyond question that he had now reached deliverance, together with the falling of what looked like scales from his eyes and his receiving sight. Only a delivered soul could be filled with the Holy Spirit. At once Saul arose and was baptized — baptized into the death of Christ (Romans 6:3). Free from self and from being taken up with himself, he could now feed on heavenly food in the power of the Spirit he had received. So he was made strong for the new path he was entering.
The same drive that had made Saul dangerous did not disappear. It changed direction.
At once the scales fell from his eyes. He saw, he arose, he was baptized. He now bore the name of the One he had persecuted. What can God not do? The man who had struck terror into the hearts of God's people was at once turned into the eager servant of Christ. That unbreakable will that marked him in his persecuting days was now turned to the service of the Lord.
- Blinded — three days of darkness ended the old Saul. When the scales fell he saw the Jesus of glory as grace, and as righteousness for himself.
- Visited — the sight came through Ananias, a man the Lord sent. The Lord Jesus was the channel of His own mercy.
- Baptized — a plain disciple, not an official, baptized the future apostle. Preaching the truth ranks above handling its sign.
- Washed — baptism broke Saul openly with his past and condemned his old course. Forgiveness before God rests on the blood of Christ alone.
- Strengthened — a soul set free can be fed and made strong for the new path. The will once bent on destroying now served Christ.
and, having received food, got strength. And he was with the disciples who [were] in Damascus certain days.
A quiet sentence sits between Saul's first sight and his first sermon. He eats, gets his strength back, and stays in Damascus with the very people he came to arrest.
Saul's three days without sight, food or drink ended when his sight came back. One writer follows what happened next, and points out the plan Saul dropped:
When Saul received his sight, his fast ended, and eating food gave him strength. Then he remained some days with the disciples in Damascus, not returning to Jerusalem, as he had planned.
Some have asked whether the eating here carries a spiritual sense. One reply keeps it simple, anchoring the meaning in the fast recorded a few verses earlier:
Acts 9:19, which was also quoted in the question, must surely refer to natural food. Verse 9 says that Saul was three days without sight, and neither ate nor drank.
Saul had come to Damascus set on wiping out the disciples there. One account sets the entry he had planned beside the one he actually made:
He is blind for three days, and can neither eat nor drink. So he enters Damascus, blind, broken, humbled, under the solemn judgment of the Lord! How different from what he had intended! He now joins himself to the company he had resolved to wipe out. Yet he enters in by the door, and humbly takes his place with the disciples of the Lord.
Saul's place among the disciples is more than a fact about him. One writer reads it as the normal fruit of the Spirit's work, and of the new life itself:
Two things stand out after Saul's conversion: first, that he was at once found together with the disciples (v. 19)... It is God's mind that all who believe should be together. Wherever the Spirit of God is acting in power, it is always the case. It is also a necessity of the new nature, once we stand on the ground of redemption. Another apostle says the same: "That which we have seen and heard we proclaim also to you, so that you too may have fellowship with us."
Acts does not say what those days held. One writer suggests private contact with the disciples, matching how Paul acted years later:
Saul kept company with the disciples in Damascus, and it seems he did so before he preached in the synagogues (Acts 9:19). This fits well with his private meeting with the apostles and elders at Jerusalem fourteen years later... He had been an active and well-known persecutor. So contact with the disciples would have been only consistent conduct: it would convince them of his conversion, and perhaps let him share with them the gospel he was about to preach.
Where these days sit in Saul's story is not certain. Another writer compares Acts with what Paul himself writes, and finds the gap is no loss:
Comparing these two passages shows clearly that the Spirit of God did not set out to give a dated account in Acts. There is no mention there, for example, of the visit to Arabia that Paul speaks of in Galatians. So we cannot now tell whether the Jews' plot to kill the apostle happened before he went to Arabia or after he came back. Nor is it of the slightest importance that we should settle it, since it is the spiritual teaching of the narrative that demands our attention.
The change in Saul is startling. One writer refuses to leave it as something to admire from a distance:
But let us also remember that our own conversion needed the same divine power. Without the grace that visited the heart of Saul of Tarsus, we would have remained in our evil condition of enmity against God. We would have stayed blind to our own state, and blind to the glory of His beloved Son. Not all are called to be such chosen vessels as Saul was, but all of us, equally with him, have been the subjects of divine grace.
- Fed — The three-day fast ends with ordinary food. Strength comes back before any service starts.
- Joined — He enters by the same low door as anyone else and takes his place with the people he had planned to destroy.
- Together — Life with the disciples is not an extra. It is God's mind for all who believe, and a need of the new nature.
- Unhurried — Days pass before he preaches, and Acts leaves the timing open. The spiritual teaching is what matters, not the calendar.
- Ours — The same power that turned Saul turns anyone. Not all are chosen vessels like him, but all believers are subjects of the same grace.