Acts 9:2–27

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.

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.

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."

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".

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 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.

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?"

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.

"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.

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.

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.

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.

"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."

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.

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 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.

"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.

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?

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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."

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 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.

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.

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.

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."

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!

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.

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!

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).

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 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'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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 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.

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.

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.

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 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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?"

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.

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."

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 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.

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.

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.

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.

"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.

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.

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.

(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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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."

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.

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.

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.

Saul makes no delay in confessing and declaring his faith; and what he says deserves close notice. He preaches in the synagogue that Jesus is the Son of God. It is the first time anyone preaches this. Others had already preached that He was exalted to the right hand of God — that He was Lord and Christ. The rejected Messiah was exalted on high. But here it is the simple doctrine of His personal glory: Jesus is the Son of God.

The other apostles knew it, but they are not said to have preached it. Peter had long ago confessed the great truth with singular strength, and the Lord had pronounced him blessed for it. Flesh and blood had not revealed it to him — His Father in heaven had. Yet we never find Peter proclaiming the Lord in this way at Pentecost or afterwards. He sets forth the crucified Jesus as having been made both Lord and Christ.

He preached what, as far as we know, no apostle had preached before: that Jesus is the Son of God. He also proved that He is the Christ… The Sanhedrin had condemned the Lord to death for that very claim. Saul at Damascus declared it to be the simple truth. What is more, he could affirm there what no other apostle could say. He had seen the crucified One in heavenly glory, and had heard words from His mouth. So in those synagogues he could present himself as the messenger — the apostle — of the Lord Jesus who is in glory.

He is indeed "filled with the Holy Spirit." At once he preaches in the synagogues named in his letters of authorisation. And he preaches that very Jesus whose followers he has orders to destroy. He preaches Him also, as the twelve apostles have not done so far in the history, in the very character in which Israel had rejected Him — as Son of God. This is the fullest reversal of his own mad unbelief, and the completest challenge to Israel's. The missionary of their enmity has suddenly become the champion of the "Way" he persecuted.

Now Saul is a Christian. But how strange and new everything was to him! Immediately he went to the synagogues. He did not go to deliver the letters that were in his pocket. I think he burned those letters. But he went and boldly preached Christ, that He is the Son of God.

The power and force of this showed at the very start of his career. Straight away he preached Christ in the synagogues, that He is the Son of God. He kept to this all through his career as a servant of Christ. Dangers by land or sea, in the city or the wilderness, from robbers or false brothers, beatings, stonings, shipwrecks — none of it could turn him aside from his path of service.

At first amazement took hold of his hearers. They had heard of this preacher before. They had been told how fiercely he had attacked the disciples in Jerusalem, and why he had been sent to Damascus. And look — this very man had become the advocate of Christianity, and they now heard him declaring that Jesus was the Son of God! Their astonishment is easy to understand.

He truly is "filled with the Holy Spirit." At once he is preaching in the very synagogues his letters of authority are addressed to. And the One he preaches is that same Jesus whose followers he was sent to destroy… The man sent out as the agent of their hatred has suddenly become the champion of the "Way" he persecuted.

That was the only commission Paul received from man — an authority, not to preach the Gospel, but to stamp it out, if that were possible. But the Lord, in sovereign grace, did more than convert Saul of Tarsus. He sent him out, straight from Himself, as a preacher, an apostle, and a teacher of the Gentiles in faith and truth.

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, praying 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 in verse 21 some were asking, "Is not this the man who made havoc in Jerusalem of those who called upon this name?" Indeed, is anyone saved who has not called on the Name of the Lord? (See Acts 2:21 and Rom. 10:13.)

In the early days of the Church, believers were known as those who "called upon this name" (Acts 9:21). When persecution came, they turned to the Lord. And in the ruin of these last days, we can be sure there will still be those who "call on the Lord from a pure heart" (2 Tim. 2:22).

Saul's conversion was so sudden, so surprising, and so deep that it could not fail to make the deepest impression on everyone who saw it, and above all on the Jews. By nature, character, learning, and position he had been the most zealous of the Jewish opponents… God's grace displayed in it amazed all who heard. The very opposition of the restless enemy was for the moment paralysed.

Amazement at first took possession of them. All knew his course in Jerusalem, and the intent for which he had started for Damascus. All had to bear witness to the clear and mighty change worked in him. But as his preaching went on, the amazement of some turned into fierce hostility. So when many days had passed, the Jews plotted to kill him.

Let the reader pause and meditate on this wonderful display of the power of the grace of God… But let us also remember that the same divine power was needed for our own conversion. Without that grace which visited the heart of Saul of Tarsus, we would have remained in our evil condition of enmity against God, blind to our own state, and blind to the glory of His beloved Son.

The growing strength of Saul does not mean that he overcame his opponents in debate. It means that the Spirit strengthened him by deepening his soul in the divine word. No doubt that did wear down more and more the feeble arguments of those who opposed him. He had vast natural ability, and God had arranged his training under Gamaliel. But the new nature in the Spirit's power found its true and constant field of exercise in practical dealing with souls, one to one or in the synagogues.

An interval may perhaps be supposed between verses 22 and 23. If so, Saul's visit to Arabia may have taken place at this time. He who is much before men in testimony needs to be much before God in private. Many a witness has wrecked his testimony because he forgot this principle. Many a servant started full of zeal, and marked by faithfulness too. Then he went on giving out more than he received, living on yesterday's manna. In the end he was empty and without strength, because he no longer lived in the secret of God's presence, and inwardly he became the plaything of Satan.

Here "Jesus" would be quite out of place, and the Messiah is the truth meant. Advance in truth received and learned from God does not cast a slight on a lower level which is equally of God.

He preached what, as far as we know, no Apostle had proclaimed before — that Jesus is the Son of God (Acts 9:20). He also proved that He is the Christ (v. 22). Peter had proclaimed Him as Lord and Christ at Pentecost… The Sanhedrin condemned the Lord to death for that very claim. At Damascus, Saul declared it to be the simple truth.

Saul proved — from the Scriptures — that Jesus was the Christ; and the Jews could not resist the evidence, for they were confounded, but they did not, would not, receive the testimony. Their will, as ever, was concerned in refusing the rejected and glorified Christ.

This is the fullest reversal of his own mad unbelief, and the completest challenge to the unbelief of Israel. The man they sent out in their own hatred has become the champion of the "Way" he persecuted.

The Lord, and not man, fits His chosen vessel. In His own time He puts the grace (or gift) in him and sends him out… This great apostle was not only not trained by men; he deliberately avoided them. God had separated him and called him to preach. This was enough; his qualification was complete. He did not even go up to Jerusalem to the apostles who were before him. We know from the Acts of the Apostles that he preached in Damascus for three years before he went there.

Verse 19 says he was with the disciples in Damascus only "some days," while verse 23 speaks of "many days." Galatians 1:15-19 clarifies this. Between the two verses he had gone into Arabia, then returned to Damascus. So it was three years before he went to Jerusalem. We are not told how long Saul (later named Paul) was in Arabia, or what he did there. But back in Damascus he clearly took up his preaching again, for the Jews plotted to kill him.

The one who is much before people in testimony needs to be much before God in private. Many a witness has wrecked his testimony because he forgot this principle. Many a servant starts out full of zeal and faithfulness. Then he gives out more than he has received, living on yesterday's manna. In the end he is empty and without strength, because he no longer lives in the secret of God's presence, and inside he becomes the plaything of Satan.

The opposition of the Jews grew as time went on. They could not answer Saul's arguments, so they took counsel to kill him. This has been one of Satan's commonest methods from times long past. Lazarus had been raised from the dead. He had become an undeniable witness to the person of Christ. So the chief priests planned to put him to death, because through him many of the Jews were going away and believing in Jesus. It made no difference to them whether the testimony about Jesus was true. They hated it even though it was true, and they meant to destroy the witness if they could.

The letter to the Galatians speaks of a visit to Arabia. It clearly falls inside those "many days." At the end of them the persecution breaks out, and for the first time Saul tastes the same cup he had been forcing others to drink in the dark days now gone forever. At first the wonder of his conversion had thrown his opponents off balance. But it ends, as you would expect, in a violent reaction from those it has not brought to God.

He had expected to enter Damascus with some show of importance, as the official agent of the religious leaders in Jerusalem. In fact he entered as a humbled and blinded man. And he left in an undignified way, bundled into a basket, running from Jewish hatred.

But the sharpness of Saul's preaching stirs up the hostility of the Jews. It is always the religious who oppose the truth, because it undercuts their own importance and traditions. The bitterness of the flesh never gives way, and least of all in religious things. They seek to stone Saul, making conscience and religion their excuse. But God watches over His servant, and Paul learns of their plot.

The Jews went so far as to watch the gates of Damascus night and day, so that they might finish him off. The disciples valued his burning love for Christ and his zeal for people's blessing. Even so, they took him by night and let him down through the wall in a basket. There was no miracle. The escape was ordinary enough, and even humiliating for those who would surround the great apostle with a permanent halo. How little they know of the cross, of God, and of His ways!

In 2 Corinthians 11:32-33 there is extra information. The hostility he met was not limited to the synagogue. The governor under the king of that time shared it, no doubt to do the Jews a favour, as others in a similar position did later.

How soon he felt the reproach of Christ! How soon his change was put to the test! His former friends seek his life. He escapes in a basket, let down through a window over the city wall. Imagine proud Saul dodging his enemies in such a shameful way! But the attack could come from friends, who are usually the most bitter once they turn into enemies. It could come from idol-worshipping mobs in pagan cities, or from fanatical, murderous persecutors in Jerusalem. Always and everywhere he was content to bear all things for Christ's sake. None of these things moved him. He had seen the Lord, and everything else was worthless.

But the sharpness of Saul's preaching stirs up the animosity of the Jews. It is always the religious who oppose the truth, because their own importance and traditions are compromised. The bitterness of the flesh, particularly in religious things, never gives way. They seek to stone Saul, and they use conscience and religion as their excuse.

They could not answer Saul's arguments, so they now planned to kill him. This has been one of Satan's most common methods from the earliest times. After Lazarus was raised from the dead, he became an undeniable witness to who Christ is. So the chief priests planned to put him to death too, because many of the Jews were leaving them and believing in Jesus because of him… The Lord watched over His chosen vessel, so the Jews were powerless to carry out their plans. Saul learned that they were lying in wait for him. His enemies kept close watch, but the disciples helped him escape out of their hands.

It may be worth noting what 2 Corinthians 11:32-33 adds. The hostility he met was not limited to the synagogue. The governor under the king of that time shared it too, no doubt to do the Jews a favour, as others in a similar position did later: "At Damascus, the governor under King Aretas was guarding the city of Damascus in order to seize me, but I was let down in a basket through a window in the wall and escaped his hands."

Verse 19 says he was with the disciples in Damascus only "some days," while verse 23 speaks of "many days." Galatians 1:15-19 clears this up. Between the two verses he had gone into Arabia and then returned to Damascus. So it was three years before he went to Jerusalem… On his return to Damascus he clearly took up his preaching again. We know this because the Jews plotted to kill him, watching the gate of the city, where he was most likely to be caught.

The Jews went so far as to watch the gates of Damascus night and day, hoping to kill him. The disciples valued his warm love of Christ and his zeal for the blessing of others. Even so, they took him by night, let him down through the wall and lowered him in a basket. There was no miracle here, only an ordinary escape. It was a humiliating one in the eyes of people who want to picture the great apostle with a halo always around his head. How little they know of the cross, of God, and of His ways!

But the sharpness of Saul's preaching stirs up the hostility of the Jews. It is always the religious who oppose the truth, because their own importance and traditions are at stake. The bitterness of the flesh, especially in religious things, never gives way. They seek to stone Saul, using conscience and religion as their excuse. But God watches over His servant, and Paul learns of their plot. While they wait day and night for him at the gates, the disciples take him by night and let him down over the wall in a basket. So he escapes out of men's hands.

The Jews could not answer Saul's arguments, so they now planned to kill him. This has been one of Satan's most common methods from the earliest times. Lazarus had been raised from the dead. He had become an unanswerable witness to the person of Christ, so the chief priests planned to put him to death... It did not matter to them whether the testimony to Jesus was true. They hated it even though it was true, and they set out to destroy the witness if they could... The Lord watched over His chosen vessel, and so the Jews were powerless in their efforts.

In the New Testament three Greek words are used for basket. One is syrganē, "a hamper," in which Paul was let down by the wall (2 Cor. 11:33). For the same event Acts 9:25 uses another word, spyris, which also means "a hamper." It is the word for the seven baskets of fragments left over after the four thousand were fed.

Paul, after his conversion, was only a zealous but untaught young Christian. He too, after his stay in Arabia, began to make disciples of his own. Most agree that the true reading of Acts 9:25 is: "but his disciples took him by night and let him down through an opening in the wall, lowering him in a basket."

The oldest copies, along with ancient Latin copies, have the strange reading "his" disciples. It looks like an easy slip to make, and it does not fit the account.

No doubt it was a remarkable escape at the beginning of his ministry. But it was the very last thing a man seeking his own glory would have repeated and put on record for ever. No angelic visitors opened the bars and bolts of massive doors, or blinded the eyes of the garrison. The apostle was let down in a basket through a window in the city wall. Truly he gloried, not in the great deeds or sayings of his ministry, but in his weakness and the Lord's grace.

Here we find the greatest simplicity and quietness. There is no show of doing great things; nor do we read of daring of any kind: what is there of Christ in either? On the contrary, we see something that outwardly looks extremely weak; but this was the man who would one day say that he gloried in his weaknesses. He acts on what he later wrote. He was led of God.

He winds it all up with this very incident, in a way that stands strangely alone. He places side by side his being let down through a window in a basket by the wall, and his being caught up into paradise for exceedingly great revelations (2 Cor. 11:32–12:4). A strange pairing, but how instructive — the same man lowered from a window in a city wall, and caught up to heaven to hear words that cannot be told! Who but Paul would ever have thought of glorying in the things that concerned his weakness?

2 Cor. 11:32-33 adds more. The hostility he met was not limited to the synagogue. The governor under the king of that time shared in it, no doubt to do the Jews a favour.

Having arrived, "he attempted to join the disciples," just as in Damascus he was with the disciples there. Led by the Spirit of God, he must go to his own company. The believer's heart must be where the heart of Christ is. And it was of His people He said, "In them is all my delight." (Psalm 16) So it is a bad sign when any of God's children are content to stay away from His people.

There is no way any of us want to meet him. There is no way we are going to let him find out who we all are, and where we meet together. He may SAY that he is a believer, but how do we know it isn't a trick?

When Saul was last in Jerusalem he had kept company with the religious leaders of that city, the relentless enemies of the disciples. And it was he who had been their chosen instrument in the merciless persecution they had started. So it was only natural that the disciples should now all be afraid of Saul, and that they did not believe he was a disciple. They evidently feared a new scheme by their old enemy to destroy them. Until adequate testimony came, they were not ready to accept Saul's claim to their fellowship.

From the outset Saul had to taste for himself the very things he had been inflicting on others. Back in Jerusalem the disciples distrusted him, as was very natural, and Barnabas had to step in before they received him... In all this we can see the working of the government of God. The Lord had shown him amazing mercy in his conversion. Even so, that did not exempt him from reaping in this governmental way what he had sown.

God did not clothe him with such overwhelming influence that doors were thrown open to him... Why should any confessor of Christ — why should any child of God — shrink from giving godly satisfaction to those who ask for it? Why so much haste and impatience? Why should there be an unwillingness to meet and submit to others when it is a question of reception?... Here we find that not even the apostle Paul was above it.

Paul is a model man to the church in many things, and in this also. The assembly received him the way it should receive every applicant: on solid testimony that his Christianity was genuine. It must take every godly care to detect the pretenders like Simon Magus. But it must show all tenderness and patience to the timid and doubting ones.

It is to Barnabas's enormous credit that he wasn't willing to let this situation go on. He was willing to go and meet a man who had been an enemy of Christ, a hater of believers, who had probably killed or imprisoned many of Barnabas's own family and friends... How did he know Saul's claim wasn't just part of a trap?... I think it unlikely that he had different information about Saul than Peter and the rest had, but HE would take the risk... And he was willing to be convinced. His mind wasn't closed.

Barnabas had a larger heart than even the apostles and the others who had grown up in a strict Judaism. He was more open to the testimonies of divine grace. God in His grace provides for everything. There is always a Barnabas... whenever needed.

How painful this was for Saul, a man full of divine affections, already overflowing with a testimony of Christ that went beyond these doubting brothers! Their own grace was so small that they doubted the largest measure of it they had ever seen. But how helpful for us and all saints, who have to learn this: we must not receive anyone on his own word alone, but on adequate testimony from others. Think of a man who is unknown, or known only by doubtful circumstances. He must have a wonderful opinion of himself, or be strangely blind to the duties of others, if he expects a welcome within the holy bounds of Christ on the good account he gives of himself.

They did not know of his conversion; but Barnabas knew; and the Lord uses him to bring Saul into the assembly at Jerusalem... We are not told how Barnabas knew all this. His heart was in it all. No doubt the Lord had put him in the way of knowing all this, to form a link between these two for future work together.

Some say Barnabas acted this way because he already knew Saul, and that the two had studied together at Tarsus, where neither of them knew the Lord Jesus. They say that either fact, even if true, could be a ground to satisfy the disciples. This is just a sample of human guesswork... Is not the real key given by the sacred historian in a later glimpse of Barnabas in Acts 11:23-24? When he saw the grace of God, he was glad, and so he encouraged them; for he was a good man, and full of the Holy Spirit and of faith.

Barnabas quickly grasped that there was something marked out, something distinct, and something that could shape a whole life, in seeing Christ as Saul had seen Him. Saul had not seen Him in the lowliness of His Galilean pathway. He had not seen Him in the sufferings of the cross, on the day when "they sat down and kept watch over Him there." Saul hated Him, hated His name, and tried to stamp it out. But Saul got a sight of Him beyond the suffering, in the glory.

Three years had passed since his conversion, and the report of it had reached the disciples there. Still they gave it no credit, in the very place where he had once destroyed the flock of Christ... At this point the future companion of his labours, Barnabas, appears as mediator. He took and brought him to the apostles — that is, as Paul himself tells us, to Peter and James, the Lord's brother — and lays the whole matter before them. The cloud is cleared away.

It seems the apostles had heard nothing of his conversion, and nothing of his work in Damascus, until Barnabas took him by the hand and told them about his conversion, and about the proofs of it in his evangelistic work and his debates. The testimony of Barnabas was enough. Once they were satisfied that his conversion was real, they freely admitted Saul to the company of the Christians in the city. The man who had once entered houses as an inquisitor was now received as a brother in the faith. A special tie was formed between him and Barnabas this early on, and Barnabas saw Saul's teaching gifts and valued them highly.