Acts 9:1-20
June 28, 2009
Allan Klassen
Conversion or Calling
Every area of study or work tends to develop its own subculture of expressions
and terminology – evolve a language which seems to be readily understood by its
practitioners, but which may have little or no meaning to those outside of those
fields. So economists talk freely, and supposedly intelligently, about bears and
bulls, and psychologists describe us as left brain or right brain, and I
continue to struggle to try and remember which means what.
Those of us who have grown up in the church have also become accustomed to
certain religious jargon and terminology – have perhaps become so accustomed to
it that we may tend not to think much about what this jargon may mean. But
simply throw it around and assume that everyone knows what we are talking about
and understands things similarly to the way we do.
Among our religious jargon are the terms “conversion” or “conversion
experience”. Conversion, something which in Christian circles is often thought
of as a prerequisite to faith. Among the preeminent sources of our
understandings of conversion is today’s text concerning the experience of Saul
on the road to Damascus. So it is interesting to consider what happened to Saul
here, and also to consider our own situations and experiences.
Saul, a good Jewish name for a fellow born in Tarsus of Cilicia, a Hellenistic
city with a considerable reputation for culture. Saul, a devout Jew of the tribe
of Benjamin who received his education at the feet of Gamaliel in Jerusalem and
became a noted member of the Pharisees. So he grew up on the right side of the
tracks and was off to a prominent place in Jewish society. Our first encounter
with Saul in the biblical narrative is as a bystander and witness of the stoning
of Stephen recorded earlier in the book of Acts, where it notes that “Saul
approved of their killing him”. (Acts 8:1) This seems to be the beginning of
Saul’s notoriety as the ringleader of a zealous, but misguided, movement
determined to make Christianity extinct. An early church bounty hunter, if you
will. Saul’s persecution of Christians was relentless, apparently all the while
thinking that he was protecting the faith and was doing God’s will according to
his strict Jewish training. Later he would write to the Galatians that, “beyond
measure I persecuted the church and made havoc of it”. (Gal. 1:13)
Saul is on his way to the synagogues in Damascus to continue this mission when
the famous interruption described in our text takes place. Indeed Luke records
that, “still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord”,
Saul had requested letters of authorization from the High Priest to take with
him in order to root out men and women “who belonged to the Way” and bring them
bound to Jerusalem. And then it happens! A blinding light knocks him to the
ground and twice he is called by his Hebrew name, “Saul, Saul, why do you
persecute me?”
And interestingly, although we talk about Saul’s conversion on the road to
Damascus, actually the only recorded response on his part at that point is, “Who
are you, Lord?”
The rest comes later, some of it a few days later with the help of Ananias, and
the rest even later than that.
So when we talk about Saul’s conversion being this dramatic sudden event that is
not actually what happened. It was really a process rather than an instantaneous
event. And another important point is that it was not just a personal encounter,
but also involved community. We are told that those with him guided him the rest
of the way into Damascus, where for three days he could not see and did not eat
or drink. And even as Saul had a vision, so did Ananias, the one who is called
to go to the famous street called Straight to the house of Judas and to bless
Saul by laying hands on him. Understandably, Ananias is a reluctant participant
in the proceedings for he too is well familiar with Saul’s notoriety, but
Ananias becomes obedient to being a part of the transformation process. And thus
he is a model to us of the supportive restorative role that we as individuals
and the church are called to play in assisting persons to come to faith and to
find their calling.
As we know, Saul later becomes more familiarly known as Paul. It is sometimes
thought that because of Saul’s dramatic conversion there needed to be a name
change to go along with it, but the more prosaic explanation is that Paul is
simply the version of his name that was more familiar to his audiences in Greece
and Asia Minor rather than the Jewish Saul. Indeed, the writer of Acts shifts
from use of the Jewish name Saul to Paul in 13:9 as his activities move into
more Hellenistic territory.
A few Sundays ago, Ben, Dustin and Nicholas in sharing their faith stories, each
indicated that their coming to faith did not involve a “eureka” experience as
they put it. They, like many of the rest of us, seemed a bit apologetic or
regretful for not having this type of dramatic experience. But the reality is
that this is probably true for the majority of Christians. For many of us our
faith journeys have not included something as earth-shaking as being struck down
by blinding lights. Indeed, for many of us it is a journey – a journey toward
increasing understanding and commitment.
But for some the experience is dramatic and life changing – it is like “eureka”
for some – for some it is like a u-turn in the middle of life’s road. The
husband of an older cousin of mine experienced that type of life-changing
conversion many years ago. Among other things Dean had served in the Armed
Forces and, although he was a nice enough fellow, he was somewhat rough around
the edges, certainly according to our upbringing and certainly given to language
and other characteristics that were somewhat foreign to our rather sheltered
Mennonite upbringing. And then one day his life changed. Given that I was a
young teenager at the time I was not privy to exactly how or where it happened.
But his life changed dramatically, almost too dramatically for our comfort zone.
Now, we all thought of ourselves as good Christian people, but were not
generally given to effusive expressions of our faith. So when the new Dean came
along with “the Lord willing” this and “the Lord willing” that we were a bit
taken aback. The point of the story is that for him coming to faith had been a
much more dramatic, much more life-changing experience than for most of the rest
of us. In retrospect, I wish I had been able to appreciate it more fully.
While I have been using the term “conversion”, it is not a term that I use much
in conversation or with which I am particularly comfortable. It has long been a
convenient word for Saul’s transformation but later the new Paul himself calls
his experience a revelation (Gal. 1:16), or an appearance (1Cor. 15:8), and
describes himself and others as a “new creation”. (2 Cor. 5:17) Whether we
describe our experience as a revelation or as a conversion or as becoming a new
creation the point is that all “conversion experiences”, all the ways in which
we come to faith are unique to the individual, and as long as they are genuine
all are valid. And therefore we need to honor and validate all the ways in which
people come to faith, even if their experiences are different than our own.
Theologian Krister Stendahl argues that for Paul (and probably for us as well)
“call” is a more appropriate term than “conversion”. He notes that still serving
the one and the same God, Paul now receives a new and special calling in God’s
service, specifically to carry the gospel message to the Gentiles. Stendahl
maintains that the emphasis in the accounts is always on the assignment, not on
the conversion. He argues that OT prophets such as Jeremiah and Isaiah had
experiences not unlike that of Paul but that we (and the biblical record) do not
speak of their conversion but rather of their calling to summon people to
repentance and new life. (Krister Stendahl: Paul Among Jews and Gentiles)
If we accept Stendahl’s thesis of call being synonymous with conversion or at
least an alternative way of describing it, it brings us to consider whether it
is something that happens only once in our lives as some in the Church have
chosen to understand. To them there seems to be some merit or value in being
able to pinpoint the place and the hour that we were “saved”. Based on my
experience and understanding, I believe it is definitely more of a journey
(indeed a life-long journey) than a one-time event. Already, the inability of
many of us to cite a particular “eureka” happening appears to attest to this. My
inclination is that if someone corners me and presses to know whether I am
“saved”, my response will be that I am “being saved”.
For indeed, whether or not we follow the great commandments of scripture to
“love the Lord our God with all our heart, and with all our soul, and with all
our mind” and to “love our neighbor as ourselves” (Matt. 22:36-40), is something
we must consciously choose throughout our lives, maybe even on a daily basis.
Regularly in our journey through life we are called to decide how we will
behave, how we will respond to those we meet, in our families, among our
neighbors, and the strangers around us. Constantly we are called to choose what
will guide our ethics, how generously we will share with others, how openly we
will embrace those who are different than we are.
Some fifty years ago I was baptized in my home congregation at Aberdeen.
Sometimes I wish I could do it over again. I believe it was a reasonably
thoughtful and earnest action on my part at the time, but I think it would have
a more profound meaning now because being fifty years further down the road
life’s experiences and encounters have made a difference. But lest my longings
deter folks here from taking the significant step of baptism, let me hasten to
add that “conversion” and baptism is not about arriving at the destination, but
much more about launching out on the journey. They are less about having
discovered the truth and much more about our declaration of a desire to be part
of the search. Someone has observed that “God is the question with whom we
contend throughout our lives”. (Ann Weems)
Paul’s witness to the work of the Holy Spirit in his life comes up repeatedly in
his missionary endeavors and in his letters to the churches. And his mantra is
grace, that it is not our own doing lest we should presume to become boastful,
but rather salvation is a gift from God, freely given even to one who earlier
sought to destroy the church. And as fervently as he had earlier been a
persecutor, he now boldly proclaims that he is not ashamed of the gospel, for it
is the power of God working for salvation. And as the biblical record describes
it, he became one of those who later experienced persecution for their efforts.
Whether our coming to faith was sudden and dramatic or whether it was (and is)
like a gradual dawning, it is important to remember that there is purpose to it.
And here I buy into Stendahl’s thesis that we are being called, that we are
being assigned to specific tasks. We are not “saved” to simply sit like little
righteous lumps waiting for some kind of reward somewhere, somehow. Rather, we
are called to experience life in abundance, and we are called to help others
experience the good news of this life as well.
As Jim Wallis points out, conversion in the Bible is always firmly grounded in
history. It is always addressed to the actual situation in which people find
themselves. People turn to God in the midst of concrete historical events,
dilemmas and choices. And that turning is always deeply personal, but it is
never private. (The Call to Conversion) It is never an abstract or theoretical
concern. Conversion is always a practical issue. Any idea of conversion that is
removed from the social and political realities of the day is simply not
biblical.
And even as personal conversion, or discerning of our calling, is an ongoing
task for us as individuals, it is also a continuing task for congregations and
denominations. It is a necessary and important task for us together to engage in
considering whether what we believe, or how we live, is still relevant. I
commend to you the June 8 edition of the Canadian Mennonite and the interview
with Phyllis Tickle about her book “The Great Emergence”. She comments on the
major church reformations which have happened every 500 years or so in history.
“During these times of rearrangement and upheaval, the institutionalized church
throws off things that are restricting its growth.
When that mighty upheaval happens, history shows that three things happen:
First, a new more vital form of Christianity emerges. Second, the organized
expression of Christianity … is reconstituted into a more pure and less ossified
expression of its former self…. Finally, every time the encrustations of an
overly established Christianity are broken open, the faith has spread
dramatically.” Read more about Tickle’s observations as to why she feels we are
on the edge of another “great emergence” at the present time.
Call it conversion or describe it as coming to hear our calling, experience it
as a dramatic moment in our life or as a gradual awakening, whatever the
terminology we prefer or however it comes to us, it is personal and it is
corporate. And it happens for a purpose, for our own sake, and for the sake of
our world. May the Lord who encountered Saul on that Damascus road also
encounter each of us, and may we hear our calling in specific and compelling
ways. By God’s grace may it be so for us this day, and in all our days. Amen.