I, Saul (41 page)

On our way to Damascus, my mind drifted back more than twenty years to the journey with my father when, coming the other way on this very same route, we felt we had been cast into a fiery furnace like Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego.

My men and I covered a little more than thirty miles a day, and I enjoyed getting better acquainted with them. Some had looked upon me with suspicion at first. I overheard one tell another he'd never before been commanded by a “small, bookish man.”

But somehow I had won them over. Having a few days off from rousting infidels from their homes, we laughed and talked during stops for meals and lodging. Devout Jews, these
men were not taken with strong drink or inappropriate revelry. Many were family men. Our fun consisted of wrestling and running races. I was no match for these younger men except that none could outrun me. They teased that speed was my best defense.

At our last rest stop before our scheduled arrival in Damascus, I sensed the men were impatient for action. They boasted among themselves about how vigorously they would represent Jerusalem and the council, should we find subversives in the temples at Damascus. In short, they were ready.

As we remounted I pointed into the distance where the road rose to a slight ridge. “Damascus will appear on the horizon as we clear that incline, but don't be misled. It will seem we have nearly arrived, but the city is still almost half a day's journey from there.” I turned to be sure everyone was astride his horse. “Let's move out!”

I had caught the troops' excitement and had to remind myself to slow my mount as the sun reached its apex. As we neared the crest, I called out, “Stay alert, gentlemen!” to be sure they were watching for the wall surrounding Damascus, the very one I climbed as a thirteen-year-old.

Suddenly we were struck by a light so bright it made my horse rear and emit a piercing whinny. I held fast to the reins as I slid from his back. I found myself several feet off the ground, my full weight hanging from those leather straps. I had just enough presence of mind to let go so I wouldn't pull him over backward and kill him.

As I fell I heard the other horses and men cry out as they too crashed to the ground. I hit hard and the breath rushed
from my lungs. I lay there, eyes shut tight, face pressed into the dirt. Even that did no good against the sudden brilliance that radiated not just from above but also from all around me.

I heard men struggling to their feet and trying to calm their steeds. I fought to move but was rigid from fear. Suddenly a loud voice implored in Hebrew, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me?”

Astounded I could find utterance, I moaned, “Who are you, Lord?”

“I am Jesus of Nazareth, whom you are persecuting.”

In that instant my world changed. I had believed with my entire being that Jesus had been an impostor and now was dead. There was no time to wonder, to question, to make sense of what was happening. Jesus was speaking to me. The light was the light of God, and it permeated my soul.

I said, “What shall I do, Lord?”

“Rise and stand, for I have appeared to you to make you a minister and a witness both of the things which you have seen and of the things which I will yet reveal to you. I will deliver you from the Jewish people, as well as from the Gentiles, to whom I now send you, to open their eyes, in order to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan to God, that they may receive forgiveness of sins. Now go into Damascus, and there you will be told all things which are appointed for you to do.”

I struggled to my feet as the men came to my aid. “Did you see that?” I said.

“Yes! We were scared to death. The horses are still spooked.”

“Did you hear the voice?” “Yes, but we saw no one!”

“It spoke to me, the voice of God. I must get to Damascus with all haste, but I cannot see!”

Two led me by the hand and helped me remount my horse. “Hold on tight,” one said. “We will lead him slowly.”

Several hours later the sounds of the city told me we had arrived.

“Where should we take you, Saul?”

“To the home of Judas on the street called Straight.”

For three days I stayed in Judas' home, but I had no hunger or thirst and remained blind. All I could do was pray, yet I hardly knew where to begin. It was true. Jesus was alive, and I had been the chief among sinners. Suddenly, in my mind's eye a man named Ananias stood before me, healing my eyes.

Soon a man by that name arrived and asked for me. I learned later he was devout according to the Law, having a good reputation among all the Jews in Damascus. He told me God had spoken to him too. “When He called my name, I said, ‘Here I am, Lord.' And the Lord said, ‘Arise and go to the street called Straight, and inquire at the house of Judas for one called Saul of Tarsus.'

“I said, ‘Lord, I have heard from many about how much harm this Saul has done to Your saints in Jerusalem. And here he has authority from the chief priests to capture all
who call on Your name! But the Lord said, ‘Go, for he is a chosen vessel of Mine to bear My name before Gentiles, kings, and the children of Israel. For I will show him how many things he must suffer for My name's sake.'”

Ananias laid his hands on me and said, “Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, who appeared to you on the road, has sent me to restore your sight and fill you with the Holy Spirit.”

Something like scales fell from my eyes, and I could see Ananias. He said, “The God of our fathers has chosen you that you should know His will, and see the Just One, and hear His voice. For you will be His witness to all men of what you have seen and heard. Arise and be baptized, and wash away your sins, calling on the name of the Lord.”

As soon as I began to eat again, I was strengthened. I spent several days with the believers at Damascus, who immediately pressed me into preaching in the synagogues that Jesus is the Son of God. All who heard were amazed and said, “Is this not he who destroyed those who called on this name in Jerusalem, and has come here for that purpose, so that he might bring them bound to the chief priests?”

But I increased all the more in strength and confounded the Jews in Damascus, proving that Jesus is the Christ, the Messiah.

Many days later I got word of a plot by some Jews to kill me. Word had apparently gotten back to Jerusalem about my defection, and the orthodox in Damascus had been given permission to lie in wait for me. Hearing this, the people of The Way spirited me to the top of the wall one night. I
remembered from my childhood that there was no way to scale the outsides of those walls. But they put me in a large basket and lowered me to the ground with ropes, and I escaped. I would never again complain of my small stature!