Gentle Reader,
I’ve related to Paul for years. His nerd energy, his passion, his writing. Paul is great, and I’m pretty sure that he wouldn’t take kindly to some of his writing being taken wildly out of context in order to subjugate women, especially since that would make him extremely chaotic in his practices, given that he praises several women for their ministries. But as always, if you’re anti-women preaching and teaching, my only question for you is: “Do the women in your church cover their hair?”
Below you’ll find the sermon text for June 23, 2024. I talk about it toward the end of the sermon, but this went in a direction that I did not expect. I love that. God is faithful to shed light on different facets of Scriptures.
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Good morning, friends. I am Pastor Marie. Yesterday was tough. I had a plan for how I would spend the hours, and it was just upended. Then I didn’t sleep well last night. This morning, I hate my hair. So if you’re feeling discombobulated or like you’ve failed – I am with you. Welcome. This right here is where we need to be, reminding each other of and again entering into God’s great grace and love. And we do this with brothers and sisters around the world who also gather together to celebrate the wonder of our Lord and Savior. Our voices join theirs in song and prayer. Isn’t that great? Isn’t that quite the twist to the story? Two thousand years after Jesus’ death, in that dark moment when all seemed lost, millions of people everywhere know that he is alive today.
We enjoy the twists that we don’t see coming, especially when they involve a shift in how we understand the characters of the story. The hero turns out to be the villain. The minor player, who lives on the sidelines, in the shadows, is suddenly the one with the answer. You thought so and so was dead, and then boom! They’re alive. Twists are fun. We love the surprise.
Most of the time, that is. Sometimes the character twist you didn’t expect leaves you thinking, “That guy?”
One of my favorite “that guy?” moments happens in the first portion of J.R.R. Tolkein’s masterpiece, The Lord of the Rings. If you don’t know that story, the short of it is that there’s this really evil dude named Sauron who decided for…reasons…to pour the force of his malicious power into a ring. This ring goes missing for many years. Suddenly, it appears on the scene once more and the heroes – elves, dwarves, humans, a wizard or two – they meet together to figure out how they’re going to get rid of this ring and thereby get rid of Sauron forever.
But the thing is, they can’t smash the ring. They can’t melt it down. They can’t just lock it away forever and hope that Sauron forgets about it. This ring can only be destroyed in the place where it was forged – Mount Doom. (Sounds like a lovely vacation spot, right)? But it’s at Mount Doom where Sauron is most powerful. Most terrifying. Whoever takes the ring is probably going to die in the effort.
So these heroes, these warriors, they start to argue about who should take on the task. A voice rises above the noise. “I’ll do it.” That voice belongs to Frodo Baggins, an ordinary Hobbit. He will take the ring to Mount Doom. Might as well be a record scratch right there. That guy? Frodo? He’s like four feet tall! He eats about twenty times a day! Hobbits are famous for loving their food, their homes, their gardens, and their very non-adventurous lives. Surely someone else should do this.
But no. It’s Frodo.
That guy.
We began this series back in April with the proposition that our stories, ourselves, only make sense when placed within the context of an overarching, redemptive story. God’s story. We’ve explored many different scenes in which the resurrected Jesus interacts with his friends. We’ve experienced the wonder of Pentecost. Last week our friend Kenn led us to consider the ways that the extraordinary God enters into our ordinary days as we watched the power of God flow through Peter and John and out onto a man who’d never before walked but ended the day jumping and dancing in worship. We’ve learned that in this story, we’re not the main character. God is. Alongside the first believers, we have discovered that our meaning, our identity, our point is not derived from being on center stage. Instead, we are freed up to be a cast of characters who delight in constantly pointing to the one who is both the Author and the Star of the piece.
It can take us a while to understand our role. To find the freedom in not being at the center. And some of us, let’s just say we’re a little more thick headed than others. A bit more stubborn. And we’re in good company with that. Today, we’re going to meet two people who were “that guy?” for the first believers. One who has a very thick head. One who is more than surprised by the sudden twist. Two very unexpected people who took an unexpected journey.
Meanwhile Saul, still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord, went to the high priest and asked him for letters to the synagogues at Damascus, so that if he found any who belonged to the Way, men or women, he might bring them bound to Jerusalem. Now as he was going along and approaching Damascus, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” He asked, “Who are you, Lord?” The reply came, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. But get up and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do.” The men who were traveling with him stood speechless because they heard the voice but saw no one. Saul got up from the ground, and though his eyes were open, he could see nothing; so they led him by the hand and brought him into Damascus. For three days he was without sight and neither ate nor drank.
Now there was a disciple in Damascus named Ananias. The Lord said to him in a vision, “Ananias.” He answered, “Here I am, Lord.” The Lord said to him, “Get up and go to the street called Straight, and at the house of Judas look for a man of Tarsus named Saul. At this moment he is praying, and he has seen in a vision a man named Ananias come in and lay his hands on him so that he might regain his sight.” But Ananias answered, “Lord, I have heard from many about this man, how much evil he has done to your saints in Jerusalem, and here he has authority from the chief priests to bind all who invoke your name.” But the Lord said to him, “Go, for he is an instrument whom I have chosen to bring my name before gentiles and kings and before the people of Israel; I myself will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name.” So Ananias went and entered the house. He laid his hands on Saul and said, “Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, who appeared to you on your way here, has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit.” And immediately something like scales fell from his eyes, and his sight was restored. Then he got up and was baptized, and after taking some food, he regained his strength.
For several days he was with the disciples in Damascus…
– Acts 9:1-19 (NRSV)
This is the word of God for the people of God. Thanks be to God.
This could be a very familiar story to you. Love him, hate him, misunderstand him – Saul, who will eventually go by his Roman name Paul, is fairly famous. Starting in Acts 13, Luke (the author of this record) zeroes in Saul/Paul. The letters that bear his name – 13 in all – a lot of them fit into the time period recorded between Chapter 13 and Chapter 28. He is among the primary theologians of the early Church, if not the primary. In his letters he works out in real time what it means to belong to, to worship, Jesus Christ. He is poetic, creative, practical, and loves a good run on sentence. At the end of his life he writes to his friend, his adopted son Timothy, and says, “As for me, I am already being poured out as a libation, and the time of my departure has come. I have fought the good fight; I have finished the race; I have kept the faith” (2 Timothy 4:6-7). He is ready to be martyred for his love for Jesus Christ.
But he doesn’t start there. And as I said a moment ago, he’s not the only unexpected figure in this story. If we focus only on Saul, we make the mistake of thinking that only those with big names and big roles matter. That’s simply not true. In the Kingdom of God, all of us are equal. There’s no such thing as someone being more important than someone else. Saul doesn’t go on to do all that he does without Ananias. The big name and the small name. Both matter. Both are beloved of God.
But we’re getting a little bit ahead of ourselves. And that makes sense; we want to get to the good stuff. But if we don’t spend time here, on the dusty road to Damascus, sweat on our foreheads and sore, weary feet, we’ll miss the wonder of what God did in Saul’s life. What God did in Ananias’ life. We’ll miss the wonder of what God will do in any life.
We first see Saul at the end of Chapter 7. A man named Stephen – not Stefawn, as I thought for many years – he has caused what we call good trouble. He’s been taking care of people in need, specifically widows. He’s been telling people about Jesus. And there’s a lot of folks in the community who don’t like that. A bunch of them get together. Stephen preaches, covers their history and how Jesus is the promised Jewish Messiah, like we talked about a few weeks ago. They really don’t like that. They pick up stones and start to throw them at Stephen. They intend to kill him, and they do.
Saul is right there, participating, approving of this murder. He’s in his late twenties or so. We don’t know if he himself picks up a stone, but he’s cheering on the crowd. They leave their coats with him, indicating that he’s some kind of leader. Whatever his activity level was, he has Stephen’s blood on his hands.
This murder is a catalyst for persecution of the Jesus followers. And I don’t mean they had to deal with some people getting annoyed with them, or making fun of them, or disagreeing with them. Saul goes from house to house and he drags out men and women who declare that Christ is Lord. He throws them in prison. The original Greek of Chapter 8, verse 3 reveals that Saul is verbally and physically assaulting these people. This is violence. These people put their lives on the line for Jesus Christ, as some of our brothers and sisters around the world do even right now.
But Saul isn’t doing these things because he hates God. He’s doing these things because he wants to please God. And that ought to give us pause. We ought to think about that. What might we be doing out of love for God that is actually not at all what God would have us do? What judgements are we blind to? What prejudices do we refuse to release?
Saul decides to grab a few buddies and take a road trip, to leave Jerusalem and head for Damascus. It’s about 135 miles north of Jerusalem, and has a significant Jewish population. It’s likely that some of the Jesus followers had gone there to escape Saul and others who wanted them dead. We don’t know what high priest gave Saul the go ahead, but off he went. “Breathing threats and murder.” This man is violent. We are meant to understand, as his culture did, that this rage is a sign of a serious character flaw. He is so full of hostility toward God’s people that he can’t talk about anything else. And again – this flows from a desire to please God. Saul’s got it twisted. It’s twisting him.
And then – God.
With no warning, God intervenes. Saul can’t avoid God. He’s enveloped in light. This is what’s known as theophanic moment, God appearing in a strategic natural phenomenon. Because after all, God created natural phenomena and will do as God wants to do with what God has created. And Saul hits the ground. Because that’s what you do when the presence of God is so thick, so heavy all around you. You can’t help it.
God speaks Saul’s name twice to get his attention, like we need when we’re being stubborn and thick-headed. Saul is confused. He’s honestly not sure what is going on. But interestingly, by asking, “Who are you, Lord?,” he gets Jesus’ label exactly right. The one whom he has been insisting is not Lord, the one whose followers he wants to murder – well, he experiences what he will later write about in his letter to the Christians in Philippi: “Every knee will bow and every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.”
Jesus does something interesting here as well. Jesus insists that Saul is persecuting him. That means two things: Jesus is alive and he identifies with his followers. The author of Hebrews tells us that Jesus is our Great and Compassionate High Priest. Jesus gets it. The fear that his people felt. The tears they cried. The moments of doubt in the face of this persecution. Jesus took that personally.
Rather than wiping Saul off the map for this, Jesus extends grace. He instructs Saul to go on into the city and wait until he’s told what to do.
The light dims. The voice fades. I picture Saul sitting in the road, silent, just blinking, seeing nothing.
If this were a movie, at this point the camera would pan over to his buddies, the way it does after Frodo makes his announcement. Just as Frodo’s friends are shocked, Saul’s friends are shocked. They agreed to this trip when it was about them assisting in arresting Jesus followers and maybe providing security for Saul. They didn’t anticipate this. They, too, are stunned. They didn’t see the light, but they did hear the voice of God. I imagine them looking at each other, and then slowly looking over at Saul, and then back at each other. I mean, what can any of them say? They are rendered speechless by the Living Word.
The man who would drag believers out of Damascus now has to be led into the city. The man full of rage and violence is now weak and helpless.
We shift scenes to the second, “that guy?” of this story. Jesus appears to Ananias, an ordinary man just going about his day. Jesus tells him to “look for a man of Tarsus named Saul.” I imagine Ananias blinking, not saying anything for a moment, and then finally asking, “That guy? Are you sure, God?” Saul is a genuinely dangerous man. Why on earth is God asking him to do this?
Jesus reassures Ananias. Jesus has plans for Saul. He’s going to be the one who brings the Gospel message to the Gentiles, the people like you and me. Those plans won’t unfold without Ananias. An ordinary man just going about his day. If Saul has been the villain to this point, then Ananias is the hobbit. Saul is “that guy” because nobody would have expected him to become the champion of the Gospel. Ananias is “that guy” because, to human eyes, he’s nobody special.
And that’s such a beautiful thing. God can and does speak to and use even the most ordinary person – because nobody is obscure in the eyes of God. Nobody is too small or insignificant.
Ananias heads over to Straight Street, where Saul is getting straightened out. He’s on his face; he’s fasting, he’s praying, he’s doing some major soul searching. He is wrestling with God. We believe that God gives us the freedom to choose whether we are going to submit to God or not. We believe that prevenient grace, or the grace that God rolls out before we know God, enables us to make that choice. Without that grace, we’d never choose God. Saul has this choice before him. He’s been smacked in the face with grace, smacked so hard he’s gone blind. But he could have chosen to ignore God.
This also should give us pause. Are there any areas in our lives in which we choose to ignore God? In what ways does our vision need to be renewed by the grace of Christ?
Ananias enters the room. His vision is transformed by the Holy Spirit – he sees Saul as God sees Saul. He approaches the man who just days ago would have gladly punched him in the mouth and lays a gentle hand on his head. He prays. He blesses Saul. Ananias chooses to trust that God knows what God is doing. Whatever happens next, the ordinary man has been obedient, has followed the direction of the extraordinary God.
This is a precious, tender moment. If Saul was teetering on the edge, considering whether he might continue to ignore Jesus, I think the kindness of Ananias may have been the deciding factor. I think that the man who would go on to speak before governors and kings first needed to hear the gentle, faith-filled words of the first Christian to accept that Saul was called to be one of them. One of the Jesus followers. Saul still has things to work out, no doubt. He doesn’t immediately have it all together. Yet the community of believers takes him in. Baptizes him. They see the work that God is doing. “That guy Saul” and “that guy Ananias” paint a glorious picture of the great love of God.
Let me tell you, this sermon went in a totally different direction than I anticipated. God likes to keep us on our toes. I’ve read this chapter many times. I’ve heard sermons on this chapter many times. Until I began working through this familiar story for us today, I did not notice that the quiet, love-filled moment between Saul and Ananias is just as integral to Saul’s faith journey as his encounter with Jesus is. It’s not just about the miraculous intervention and the blindness and Saul’s personal wrestling. Those are all important elements. They matter. But what ties this together is the obedience of Ananias. The gentle touch and the kind words.
Enemies become brothers.
In another letter, this one to the Christians living in and around Ephesus, Paul writes that our enemies are not flesh and blood. People are just people, and all people are beloved of God. That’s it. We aren’t at war with anyone. Not only are we not at war with anyone, we must accept and nurture those who come to Jesus or who are in the process of being drawn to Jesus by his great grace. We accept them where and as and how they are. We do not demand they have it all together or all figured out. Yes, we have convictions. We believe that God calls us to live in certain ways. But we know that we can’t do that without the grace and the power of Christ, and that God is super patient with each of us. So we give that grace to others. We encourage them to give themselves, and to keep giving themselves, to Jesus, because we know that faith is not only what we believe but how we live. But we accept the mess of that process. We see the work that God is doing in the mess.
That person, that neighbor, that coworker, who lives in a way that doesn’t honor Christ – they belong here! If someone spends Saturday night in our parking lot getting high and then comes into the service – great! If someone else lives on the street and hasn’t had a shower in weeks and they want to see about this whole God thing – let them come and see! If yet another person has had sex with more people than they can remember and wonders if God could ever truly love them – God does! The person who marched in the pride parade – welcome! Anyone can and should and will and must sit right next to you and me. As they are. Because Jesus loves and meets every single person as they are. Nobody is made right apart from him. Including you and me.
We have the opportunity to be the Ananias in someone else’s life. To come close to the person we have feared or have harshly judged because we learn to see them as Jesus sees them. Because we ourselves are a mess apart from the work of Christ within us. Because each of us is someone else’s, “that guy?”
In his commentary on Paul’s second letter to the church in Corinth, Dr. Frank Carver writes that, “before his conversion, this mighty Saul of Tarsus arrogantly approaches Damascus to destroy believers there. On the way, however, he meets the risen Christ. Afterward, he enters Damascus weak, stricken, and blind. Later, he is forced to flee the city under the cover of darkness. This is a place he will never forget!” (328) I would add that Ananias is a person he will never forget.
The one who had intended to arrest those who proclaimed the Name of Jesus would go on to proclaim the Name himself. And I don’t think that it’s too far a stretch to say that every time he did so, he remembered the day that Ananias spoke words of grace and love that were no doubt important for the rest of Saul’s life.
Today we remember that, like Ananias, we are Resurrection People. Our job and our joy is to constantly point others to Jesus, who is the Author and the Star of the story. Whoever those others are and however those others might be. None are beyond the reach of Jesus.
And the great nineteenth century preacher Charles Spurgeon tells us that Jesus “is the most magnanimous of captains. There never was his like among the choicest of princes. He is always to be found in the thickest part of the battle. When the wind blows cold he always takes the bleak side of the hill. The heaviest end of the cross lies ever on his shoulders. If he bids us carry a burden, he carries it also. If there is anything that is gracious, generous, kind, and tender, lavish and superabundant in love, you always find it in him. … I have had nothing but love from him.”
We have nothing but love from Christ. May we give nothing but love to others.
GRACE AND PEACE ALONG THE WAY,
MARIE
Image Courtesy of Afif Ramdhasuma