The Conversion of St. Paul the ApostleC.25
Acts 26:9-21
The Rev. Melanie McCarley
“God is light,” John writes in his first epistle. “In him there is no darkness at all.” Marilyn Chandler McEntyre observes. “When we place ourselves in that divine light, we see things differently.”
This is precisely what happened to the Apostle Paul on the road to Damascus. Commissioned by the chief priests, Paul—who was then named Saul, was on his way to Syrian Damascus with a mandate issued by the High Priest to seek out and arrest followers of Jesus, with the intention of returning them to Jerusalem as prisoners for questioning and possible execution. This was not the job for someone uncertain of their opinions—a waffler. This was the type of job reserved for a true believer; a person possessing strength of conviction and surety of conscience. And that, in a word, was Saul. Until, of course, he was struck down by a light from heaven and heard the voice of the Lord, Jesus. Paul, in his Letter to the Galatians writes: “For you have heard of my previous way of life … how intensely I persecuted the church of God and tried to destroy it. I was advancing in religious learning beyond many of my own age among my people and was extremely zealous for the traditions of my fathers.”
Rendered blind, Paul is taken to a house where he encounters Ananias of Damascus, himself a follower of Jesus, who is none to certain about whether he wants to assist a person committed to persecuting the followers of Christ. But he goes, and ministers to Saul saying: “Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, who appeared to you on the road as you were coming here has sent me so that you may see again and be filled with the Holy Spirit.” Immediately, something like scales fell from Saul’s eyes, and he could see again. He got up and was baptized, and after taking some food, he regained his strength and became Paul, the Apostle of Christ, sent to proclaim the Good News of God’s love to the Gentiles.
It’s a remarkable conversion. Most of us do not receive such a dramatic revelation. Sometimes, conversion takes a bit of time—but all the same, results in the ability to see things differently—and so, to find ourselves changed.
James Haney writes about one such conversion. “I admire the example of Dr. Harlow Shapley. During my grandparents’ childhoods in the early days of the last century, the accepted astronomical knowledge was that there was one galaxy in the universe, the Milky Way, and that our solar system was a part of it. As new large objects were being discovered in the heavens, most astronomers considered them to be dust clouds within our galaxy, which they named the “Andromeda Spiral Nebula” (Nebula means “cloud”).
As more and more of these large structures were discovered, a few astronomers began to assert that these were not clouds within our own galaxy, but rather separate, distant galaxies. The question was argued in the so-called “Great Debate” of 1920, in which Dr. Shapley was the staunch lead-defender of the “one galaxy” model of the universe. Later, when a slightly younger astronomer started publicizing findings that supported a “many galaxies” hypothesis, Dr. Shapley classified it as “junk science.”
In 1923, that same younger astronomer sent a letter to Shapley with detailed data he had gathered which showed that a star in the “Andromeda Nebula” was in fact MANY times further away than the Milky Way Galaxy was wide, thus indicating that it was really in a far away, separate Andromeda Galaxy (as we know it today). When Shapley received the letter, he realized the data was firm, and he called it “the letter that destroyed my universe.” But to his credit, he accepted the new findings, and encouraged the younger astronomer to write a paper for a major journal in the field. And Shapley even devoted a significant chunk of his own time and research over the next decade to mapping out distances to other galaxies using similar methodology.
Many decades later, a space-based telescope would be named after that younger astronomer (Edwin Hubble). And the Hubble Telescope would help push the estimated number of galaxies in the universe to somewhere in the neighborhood of 2 trillion. But as important as Hubble’s work was in the early 20th century, and as important as the discoveries of the Hubble Telescope were in the late 20th and early 21st century, I can’t help but admire Harlow Shapley. When confronted with evidence, he admitted that he was wrong, and worked to further his field along the new lines that had opened up. He saw things in a new light, and so his universe expanded exponentially.
The converted Paul, you should note, did not change in many ways. Following his experience on the Road to Damascus, Paul was still zealous in his love for God, he was still an individual of firm faith and clear opinions. He wasn’t knocked down from his pedestal so much so that he slunk away abashed and ashamed of his error in conviction. He didn’t spend years wallowing in shame and grief. Instead, this lover of God became enlightened—seeing Jesus in the face of God. And that sight, combined with his love for the Lord God led him to work as zealously to spread the expansive Good News of God’s love for all people where before he was just as intent to persecute people who failed see things in the same light as himself.
Dr. Shapley didn’t cease to be an astronomer when he realized his error—he now saw things differently, and used this as a moment of illumination to continue his work and research.
Too often our society views those whose opinions have not changed as strong and unyielding—and perceives this as a virtue. Show me a person of forty whose opinion has never changed, and I’ll show you a fool. We learn, we grow, with an increase of what we know about science and psychology we behold a universe today that is wider and more expansive than we could have dreamed of decades before.
Take a moment and look back on your own life. Who, among us who is sixty or above imagined the World Wide Web when they were in their teens? Who, at that time, foresaw the collapse of the Berlin Wall? With our understanding we see that things are not always as we have been told. We perceive new realities—some of which confirm what we have learned and believed; others which challenge us to stretch our understanding and expand our hearts and minds.
Today, we celebrate the Conversion of St. Paul—that moment in time when he learned that what he believed to be true of God’s plans was in fact false. In this is I believe there is a lesson for each of us. Perhaps the moment of enlightenment—when we realize we have been in error—isn’t a time for shame and self-recrimination—but is instead an opportunity to see the universe as larger, more wondrous, more expansive than we could have imagined. God’s light enables us to see differently—to behold this world and its marvelous complexities with a new understanding. An understanding that does not negate God or God’s love—but opens hearts and strengthens us to proclaim that Good News with a fervor of which St. Paul, the namesake of our church, would be proud. In Jesus’ name. Amen.