For
those of you who grew up going to Sunday School, I suspect that a story you
might remember is the one about the conversion of Paul (as he was called in the
Greek language) or Saul (as he was known in Hebrew). The story is rather dramatic when you come
right down to it and filled with wonderful visual imagery.
Though
Paul did not personally know Jesus, like the rabbi, he was a good and devout
Jew. However, when we first encounter
him here in the Book of the Acts of the Apostles, which is the only recorded
narrative history we have of the very early church by the way, Paul is not only
deeply suspicious of this new movement, the “Way”, within Judaism, he is
actively antagonistic.
Paul
was present and nodding in approval when Stephen was stoned for a particularly
bitter and harsh sermon and critique of the Temple elders. Paul was also known for going door-to-door in
Jerusalem, sniffing out Christians and sending them off to prison.
In
short, Paul was proud to be a chief persecutor of early Christianity, and when
we meet him today, he is somewhere between Galilee and Damascus, which is in
Syria, intent on initiating more bold public acts in defense of his faith. From Paul’s perspective, no one ought to be
preaching about a messiah who could not possibly be real. Did these disciples of Jesus not remember that
there had always been claims about this one or that one being the long awaited
Messiah, and none of them had turned out to be real?
And
so you see, Paul was bent on rounding up the so-called Christian Jews who had
perhaps fled Jerusalem and, in his own vigilante way, stamping out this
particular heretical fire. In artistic
renditions, Paul is often pictured on horseback and is said to have carried
with him the locations of synagogues and names of individuals he considered to
be violating the foundation of Jewish faith.
Paul
would quite likely have faded into oblivion were it not for what happened to
him on the road to Damascus. Related
three different times in the Book of Acts, his experience was clearly a significant
one for the early church. One minute it
was a normal day in the life of an early Christian persecutor. The next minute that life was changed
forever.
We
are told that Paul saw a light, a light so bright and overwhelming and
unearthly that it blinded him and knocked him to the ground.
Then
we are told that Paul heard a voice, presumably coming from heaven – or at
least from the clouds above him. “Saul,
oh Saul, why do you persecute me?”
“Who
are you?” Paul asked – quite a reasonable question under the
circumstances.
“I
am Jesus, the one whom you persecute,” the voice replied – and the unspoken
words were to the effect that whatever you do to the least of these you do to
me.
“Go
into the city,” the voice continued. “I
have big plans for you.”
Paul’s
traveling companions, who had not heard or seen anything, but only knew that Paul
could now not see so much as a hand in front of his face even in broad
daylight, placed Paul’s hands on their shoulders and shuffled him into
Damascus, where he was afraid to eat or drink anything for three days.
Now,
if your Sunday School training was anything like mine, that is pretty much
where the story ends. From there, Paul
regains his sight and sets out to travel through such places as Corinth,
Ephesus, and Thessalonika.
On
his three major journeys, he converts many non-Jews to the new Way of Jesus,
nurtures small house churches, and writes a series of letters to these fledgling
faith communities, encouraging them and suggesting solutions to the problems
and issues that they faced.
However,
in between the blinding light and the journeys into Asia Minor, there is an
important little story, and that is the tale of just how Paul regains his vision
and becomes a baptized Christian himself.
It is the story of Ananias, and it is tacked on to this appointed
lectionary reading for today almost as an afterthought.
You
see, Paul was not the only person to have a vision that morning. Ananias did too. He was a Christian living in Damascus,
perhaps one whose name was even on the list that Paul carried with him. We read in this account in the Book of Acts
that God also spoke to him that day.
“Ananias”
“Yes.”
Now
hear the voice gets really specific.
“Get up and go over to Straight Avenue. Ask at the house of Judas for a
man from Tarsus. His name is Saul. He’s there praying. He has just had a dream
in which he saw a man named Ananias enter the house and lay hands on him so he
could see again.”
And
here is where Ananias tries to draw a clear line in the sand. “Are you kidding?” he asks in disbelief. “This is one bad dude. You can’t be serious. Everybody’s talking
about this man and the terrible things he’s been doing, his reign of terror
against your people in Jerusalem! And now he’s shown up here with papers from
the Chief Priest that give him license to do the same to us. What are you thinking?”
But
God said to Ananias, “Don’t argue. Go! I have picked this man as my personal
representative to primarily non-Jews, but also for kings and Jews as well.”
Maybe
when God says “don’t argue” – well, it is best not to argue, and so Ananias decides
to acknowledge this call. And in
following God’s command, he does a profoundly beautiful and deeply remarkable
thing. Ananias
puts aside his questions and his fears and his deep loathing for a man who has
done despicable things and makes his way to Straight Street, to the house of a
man named Judas, and finds this frightful man from Tarsus, Saul (or Paul).
The
little details that the author of the Book of Acts chooses to include here are
marvelous. We are told that Ananias
places his hands on the blind man Paul – on his shoulders, on his head,
tenderly cupping his face? We do not
know, but the gesture is traditionally one of acceptance.
We
are told that Ananias calls him “Brother” – friend, family, community member,
equal – a term of endearment and another gesture of acceptance.
We
are told that, in a final gesture of acceptance and affirmation, Ananias shares
with Paul why he has come: “Brother
Saul, the Master sent me, the same Jesus you saw on your way here. He sent me
so you could see again and be filled with the Holy Spirit.”
It
is then that something reminiscent of fish scales fall from Paul’s eyes – what
a marvelous little add-on to this story.
He can see again. Not only that, he is a new man – reborn in a sense,
resurrected. Then Paul is baptized, presumably by Ananias, and, after three
days of no food, feasts on what?
Bread? Wine? New life?
Who knows?
I
like Ananias because he had the hutzpah to question God, but in the end also the
faith to trust the Almighty even when what God was asking of him seemed so
wrong at the time. Ananias was canonized as a saint, you know, and perhaps,
partially at least, for that reason – for trusting though the situation made no
logical and rational sense – and was likely even to lead him to personal harm.
How
many times have we had a deep and intuitive sense that God is calling us, but
to an action or a situation where our response is likely to be, “Are you
kidding?” United Church of Christ pastor
Kirk Moore lists some examples in a sermon he once preached:
•
“I can’t ask that person to come to church!”
•
“I can’t have a conversation with that person! They’re
completely unreasonable!”
•
“But that would make me have to question all the times I’ve
done it this way and knew it was right.”
•
“That’s something for someone older.”
•
“That’s something for someone younger.”
Ananias
went out on a limb that day in Damascus, and maybe we should take a lesson from
him and go out on a limb once in a while ourselves. Ananias approached Paul – but not with outright
fear, not with loathing, not with an exclusive focus on the baggage and past
lives Paul carried with him, but rather with faith in God, with compassion, and
with forgiveness – and maybe we should take a lesson from that attitude as
well.
The
question for us then is this: How might
the story of this dramatic call (to Paul) on a dusty road to Damascus (followed
by the less dramatic but equally important call to Ananias) give us a new
imagination? (Eric Baretto) As
Lutheran pastor Eric Baretto suggests: Might
it “encourage people to wonder if their zeal, like Saul’s, has been misdirected
and even destructive (or) encourage them (like Ananias) to expect God to ask
them to do difficult things and go to unexpected places…(and) not to exclude their supposed enemies
from the work God might do in the world?”
Call
and discernment of call are always a challenge – mainly because when God calls
us, God is generally calling for an about face, a real turnaround. Our sense of call might not be up there with
falling off a horse, hearing a booming voice, and being struck blind for three
days as Paul was – or being asked to befriend a dire enemy as Ananias was, but,
whatever our true call is, it is likely to dislocate our lives and distort us
in the eyes of others in some way.
What
then to do? Oh, what to do? After all we want to make sure that God is
really doing the calling and that we have not created some mental acrobatics of
our own.
First,
I would say – keep listening - through prayer, through Scripture, thorough gaining
the perspectives of others. God is still
speaking, and I trust will speak clearer to you as time goes by. Don’t fall back on “You’re kidding?” Rather, listen with that deep intuitive part
of your being - your heart, your soul – because that is where you might
encounter God and deepen that relationship with the one who loves you.
Second,
keep pressing on. Keep serving. Keep being compassionate. Don’t fall back on “you’re kidding?”, and do
not be idle while you are trying to figure things out. Live your life as Jesus called you to live
it. Keep forgiving. Keep reaching out. Keep loving – because that is also where you
might encounter God and deepen your relationship with the one who loves you.
And
finally, be like Ananias. Don’t resort to
“You’re kidding?” because if you do, you will cut yourself off from so much
that life has to offer. Rather, take a chance
on life in its fullest and richest. Take
a chance on those people and places and events God throws into your path
whoever and wherever and whatever they may be.
And most of all, take a chance on the Way of Jesus, for both Paul and
Ananias found that doing so made all the difference.
by Rev. Nancy Foran, Raymond Village Community Church
ww.rvccme.org
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