Acts 9:1–31

9:1–9 The Road to Damascus: Saul Meets the Risen Jesus. Saul, called Paul in 13:9, continues his persecution of Christians that began immediately following Stephen’s death; he is “still breathing threats and murder” toward believers, seemingly having made persecution of Christians his full-time vocation. All of this makes the upcoming events all the more dramatic.

In verse 2, Luke refers to believers as those “belonging to the Way.” “The Way” is an early self-description of believers that appears several times in Acts, particularly in Paul’s defense speeches (19:9, 23; 22:4; 24:14, 22). In 16:17 a slave girl in Philippi refers to the “way of salvation,” and in 18:25 Luke refers to Apollos’s instruction “in the way of the Lord.” The Greek word hodos can refer metaphorically to how something is done or to a way of life. Thus we can take the term as referring to the Christian life generally—living in the way of Jesus—similar to how we use the term believers. It points to “the way of salvation as a way of and to life.”¹ Saul’s connection to the Way is simple: he seeks to stamp it out, to obliterate it. But God has another plan, for it is clear that the plan to reach the world through a persecutor and murderer of the church could come only from God.

Acts records three accounts of Paul’s Damascus road experience. Besides in chapter 9, the story is told also in chapters 22 and 26. Readers will notice the differences between the accounts, and some opponents of the historical reliability of Scripture mention these differences as evidence for their view. In chapter 9, a heavenly light flashes, Paul falls to the ground and hears Jesus say, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” (v. 4), Jesus identifies himself and tells Paul to go to Damascus, and Paul’s companions hear the voice but see no one. In chapter 22, addressing a crowd of Jews in Jerusalem, Paul recounts how around noon a light from heaven appeared, Jesus asked him the same question and revealed himself as Jesus, and Paul’s companions saw the light but did not understand the voice (22:4–9). Standing before King Agrippa in 26:9–18, Paul gives a version that is longer than the two earlier accounts. He says that at midday he saw a light brighter than the sun, which covered him and his companions. He fell to the ground, then heard a voice in “the Hebrew language” asking the same question but adding, “It is hard for you to kick against the goads” (26:14). Paul describes how Jesus identified himself, and here the apostle includes a substantially longer account of what Jesus had planned for Paul. There is no mention of his companions hearing or not understanding the voice.

The differences between the accounts are easily accounted for by considering that each version is told in a different context, with different purposes and audiences. The first is Luke’s narrative account in the flow of Acts. The second and third accounts are Luke’s retelling of Paul’s addressing different audiences. The details given reflect the needs of the contexts. The content of the later accounts will be considered in due course in this commentary, but a few of the details that seem to change are worth considering. In 9:7 the companions “hear” the voice, but in 22:9 they do not “understand the voice.” The second account explains the first. In both they hear something, but chapter 22 explains that they do not “understand.” There is no reason to suppose that in chapter 9 they understand what they hear. In this way, the accounts are similar to Jesus’ quoting Psalm 22:1 from the cross, when some people think he is calling for Elijah (Mark 15:34–35; cf. Matt. 27:46–47). A close parallel is when God the Father speaks to Jesus and some think they hear thunder, while others say it is an angel (John 12:27–30).

The differences in length of Paul’s conversion stories do not present a problem either, since none of the content conflicts in the three passages. The difference is simply in the level of detail. If Luke plans to include two instances in which Paul recounts this experience, there is no necessary reason to include it all in chapter 9. Luke is writing in retrospect, not as a reporter jotting down notes as events happen. Certainly he planned Acts from beginning to end before writing, or at least knew what he intended to include. Furthermore, the absence of any mention of the companions hearing the voice in chapter 26 underscores the real point of the narrative—it is about Paul’s conversion; his companions play only a supporting role. Although it is Paul’s special experience, it is not private, even if his companions do not understand all that happens. They see a light, hear something, and know that Paul is knocked to the ground and afterward cannot see. The companions serve as documented witnesses of a dramatic event that is essential both for the subsequent life and ministry of the apostle Paul and for the story of Acts.

Is it right to say that Paul is “converted”? This is not the word used to describe the event in Acts, nor does Paul use it later when recounting the story. He does refer in Galatians to his “former life in Judaism” (1:13), which acknowledges a change but not necessarily “conversion” in the way we use the word. If, however, conversion means a change from one worldview to another, abandoning a former sinful way of life, and turning to a different life with new values, goals, and fundamental beliefs, then what other term better describes the Damascus road? Phrases such as “getting on a new path” or “beginning a journey” are trendy and have a certain cachet these days, but they hardly capture the radical event that took place that day—or when anyone comes to faith in Jesus, for that matter.

Although there is no explicit mention of Paul repenting or believing, the following chapters of Acts, as well as Paul’s epistles, make clear that both take place. Narrative often, if not usually, teaches by showing and telling rather than by making propositional statements. In Genesis 22, for instance, there is no explicit mention of faith (but see Gen. 15:6), yet Abraham’s obedience stands as evidence of his faith in God. The same is true in Acts; Paul’s life and ministry after his Damascus road encounter point to his repentance and faith. He is also baptized, and Ananias is told to go see Paul so that he might receive the Spirit (Acts 9:17–18). All the signs of conversion are here, whether implicitly or explicitly.

The larger question of Paul’s conversion has to do with his Jewish background, and thus this question extends to everyone who comes to believe in Jesus in the first several chapters of Acts, with the possible exceptions of the Samaritans and the Ethiopian, but even they are close to Judaism in their own ways. The essential issue is over the continuity and discontinuity between the old and new covenants, and it is extraordinarily important for understanding Acts and the NT. The old covenant is the historical covenantal relationship between God and Israel. As a covenant, it came to an end in Jesus. Its fundamental structures of law, temple, and priesthood were fulfilled, brought to their intended completion in Jesus. The covenant administered by Moses was the means of bringing forward the covenantal promise to Abraham to be the head of a great nation and through him to bring blessing to the entire world. It provided the curse under which Jesus died to secure Abraham’s promise (Gal. 3:10). The Mosaic covenant, specifically the law, which cannot be separated from it, is the public evidence that convicts the world of sin—the Jews had the law and knew the law but could not keep it, and their failure to do so revealed their hearts, which were no better or worse than all other human hearts. All people, therefore, are shown to be guilty through the Jews’ experience with the law. If they could not keep what they knew, what chance does the rest of the world, living apart from the law that reveals God and what he desires of humanity, have of finding righteousness before God, which was never to be found through the law in the first place? None (cf. Rom. 1:18–3:20).

The Mosaic covenant was a shadow of what was to come, a shadow of a heavenly reality that became incarnate in Jesus (Heb. 8:5; 10:1–10). It pointed to something greater; when that something greater came, there was no more pointing to do. Paul and the writer to the Hebrews make two things clear about that covenant, which lead to a final implication. First, the old covenant was never meant to save in and of itself, nor could it (Gal. 3:19–22; Heb. 10:1–4, 11). Second, its time as a covenant has passed (Gal. 3:23–29; Heb. 8:13). The devastating implication for anyone wishing to be right before God on the basis of the covenant law is that if no one could save himself by keeping it when it was in place, the prospects of succeeding on the basis of it now that Jesus has come lie somewhere between impossible and hopeless. When the sun reaches noon, all shadows disappear.

When Jesus appears to Saul on the road to Damascus, all of the structures and values he has lived for and based his existence upon are demolished, not simply to be rebuilt from the rubble but to be built anew, with Jesus of Nazareth as the foundation. Saul sees the physical manifestation of what shines now in the heart of every believer, “the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ” (2 Cor. 4:6). The light and the voice recall encounters with God in the burning bush, on Mount Sinai, at the tabernacle and the temple, and supremely in the transfigured Jesus, in whom God is now revealed. The work of the old covenant is accomplished.

The “righteous” in the Mosaic covenant were such because they believed God and believed that he keeps his promises. They were old covenant members saved through faith in God. Now that every promise finds its “Yes” in Jesus (2 Cor. 1:20), the days of fulfillment have come, and faithfulness to God must be demonstrated through faith in Jesus. Paul had to walk away from his false understanding of the ways in which the temple, the priesthood, and the Mosaic stipulations served as ways of relating to God during a time of promise. This is nothing short of conversion—no other term captures the reality.

Acts 9:4–6 briefly describes what Jesus says to Saul. Saul discovers that the object of his hatred—Jesus—is the very one revealed in God’s glory before him. Jesus’ words are to the point, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting,” and all that Luke tells us is that Jesus commands Paul to get up and go to Damascus. The encounter with Jesus leaves Paul blinded, and when he gets to Damascus he fasts for three days, whether from devotion or from being awestruck (vv. 8–9)—Paul has been stunned by his encounter, for in a matter of seconds the rabid persecutor of the church has been left blind, with his life turned upside down.

9:10–19a The Road to Damascus: Ananias Ministers to Saul. Luke describes Ananias as a disciple, a believer in Jesus. In these verses Ananias undergoes a veritable Samuel-like experience with God. God calls him by name, and Ananias replies, “Here I am, Lord” (v. 10; cf. 1 Sam. 3:4). God calls the enemy of the church his “chosen instrument” and says that Paul will suffer for the sake of his name (9:15). The one speaking to Ananias is Jesus (v. 17). Here in this brief encounter, and in just a few words, the text points to the divinity of Jesus as he takes on the role and manner of God, speaking personally to one of his people.

We can forgive Ananias for being a little incredulous and not immediately excited when he hears about Saul. His doubt is such that he even questions God. But we should sympathize with Ananias, and we should also recognize that God does not rebuke him but rather tells him again to go see Saul and fills him in on some of the plans he has for Paul. We should also learn from Ananias the lesson of obeying God, loving our neighbor, blessing those who curse us, and praying for those who persecute us (Matt. 5:7–9, 43–47; 22:34–40; Rom. 12:14–21).

In Acts 9:15 Luke includes a summary from the Lord concerning Paul’s future life. He will be a witness for Jesus to the whole world, that is, before the Gentiles, royalty, and those in high office (“kings”), and also to his own people, the Jews, the “children of Israel.” All of the aspects of this witness are recorded in Acts, and though Paul is thought of as the apostle to the Gentiles (and calls himself as much in Rom. 11:13), his ministry in Acts is not limited to Gentiles.

Saul is immediately baptized after he is physically restored; faith in Jesus is not described but is implicit in the narrative. Luke does not say that the Spirit fills Saul, only that Jesus sends Ananias for that purpose and to heal him. Saul is healed and then baptized; surely the implication is that he also receives the Spirit (cf. 1 Cor. 7:40). In the conversion of Saul, belief and baptism are tied together, as in the aftermath of the early speeches in Acts, and the reception of the Spirit is implied.

One more sign of conversion is present in the text. Although Saul’s eyes are opened after he loses his sight (Acts 9:8), they are covered by some sort of scalelike substance (v. 18). The Greek word lepis is unusual in the NT, but outside the NT it appears in reference to husks, shells, and fish scales. It is also possible that the word is used as a metaphor for spiritual blindness. When Paul recovers his sight, something “like scales” falls from his eyes. Unbelief covers our spiritual eyes like scales cover fish. When we believe, our spiritual blindness is healed and we can see. It is as if our eyes had been covered in scales.

9:19b–25 Saul Goes to Jerusalem: Saul in Damascus. It does not take long for Saul to get his ministry started. He goes straight to the synagogues and proclaims Jesus as the Son of God (v. 20). His educational background and training are brought to bear in the service of the kingdom as he “confounded” the Jews of Damascus, “proving that Jesus was the Christ” (v. 22). He overwhelms them with his arguments from Scripture. The word “Scripture” is not used here, as it is when Luke tells of Paul’s going to the synagogue in Thessalonica, for example, explaining and proving the crucifixion of Jesus Christ from the Scriptures (17:1–3). But it would be hard to assume any other basis for Paul’s “proving,” given that one chapter ago Philip used Scripture to do just that. Likewise, Peter’s sermons were based on Scriptures that show God’s sovereign will at work in and through Jesus. Using Scripture this way becomes Paul’s standard practice in Acts. Further, Paul’s letters are chock-full of OT references to support what he teaches about Jesus and how believers ought to live. Even though Paul will learn far more about Jesus from the Scripture, presumably spending three years in preparation in Arabia, from the beginning his confidence is based on Scripture. Effective evangelism strategies are important, but our confidence must rest not on our plans or skills but ultimately only on Scripture.

The early Christians are not the only ones surprised by Saul’s conversion—so are the Jews. Luke reports that Jews in the synagogues are “amazed” at how, seemingly overnight, their champion against the Jesus followers has become one of them (9:21). After several days of putting up with Saul’s preaching, they have had enough. And so they come up with a familiar plan: they seek to kill Paul, just as they killed Jesus and Stephen. They even involve Gentile authorities (2 Cor. 11:32), just as the Sanhedrin involved Pilate and the Romans against Jesus. But, in spite of their best efforts, Saul escapes.

The apostle Paul reacts variously to threats of persecution throughout his life. Here he escapes; at another time he invokes his Roman citizenship to avoid further beating (Acts 22:25), then later appeals to Caesar, which saves him from death in Jerusalem (25:11) but ensures that he is kept under arrest and transferred to Rome. At no point does Paul seek out persecution. He does not shrink from persecution, but it is not his goal, nor is it the Lord’s. The Lord plans for Paul to be his witness, and fulfilling that role will certainly include suffering and persecution. Suffering is a means, not an end in itself. Reading the narrative in light of the end—as good Bible readers must do—we know that ultimately Paul escapes those seeking his life in Damascus because God has plans for him to travel all the way to Rome.²

9:26–30 Saul Goes to Jerusalem: Saul in Jerusalem. Although on the surface there might appear to be a seamless flow from Saul’s escape at Damascus to his visit to Jerusalem, there is actually a three-year gap between these two events. God keeps Saul under wraps, as it were, for a fairly long period after his conversion. The timeline is at times difficult to follow, and readers ought to reference Galatians in order to put these verses in chronological context. It is from Galatians 1:17 that we learn of the three-year gap between Saul’s conversion and this visit to Jerusalem, which the apostle relates in Galatians 1:18–19. Paul’s account of meeting only Peter and James also fits with Luke’s account in Acts 9:27.

Saul intends to meet the disciples in Jerusalem, but they fear him. This provides a picture of the negative impact his persecution caused—he has been out of commission for three years, but when he comes to Jerusalem the believers have not forgotten him. It is Barnabas, the encourager (4:36), who brings Paul and the apostles together and relates Paul’s conversion story and his subsequent ministry in Damascus (9:27). This is enough to win the apostles over, and whatever lingering doubts remain are put to rest by Paul’s preaching in Jerusalem and his disputes with the Hellenistic Jews (vv. 28–29).

The Hellenists mentioned here are much the same in background as the Hellenist believers from whom the seven servants were chosen (6:1–6), including Stephen and Philip. Their closer counterparts in the narrative of Acts, however, are the Cyrenian, Alexandrian, and Cilician Jews who sought to argue with Stephen but were no match for him. Thus Paul’s opponents here could have been some of the same Hellenistic Jews who dragged Stephen out to be killed, meaning that the last time some of these people saw Paul, he was looking after their cloaks while they took part in murdering Stephen. Then he cheered them on; now he takes them on, presumably from the Scriptures and undoubtedly over Jesus as Messiah. Their reaction to Paul certainly matches their reaction against Stephen, as Luke reports that they decide to kill Paul (9:29).

Once more the offense of the gospel is met with the threat of death, and once more Paul escapes. Disciples take him to Caesarea, and from there he sets off for his hometown of Tarsus, in Cilicia. Once in Tarsus he spends the next eight years ministering in Cilicia and Syria, where he will stay until Barnabas comes looking for him (11:25). With this, Luke’s introduction of Saul of Tarsus comes to an end.

9:31 Saul Goes to Jerusalem: The Church Grows. Luke records another summary statement at the end of a dramatic movement in the life of the early Christian community, a statement that serves as a pivot back to Peter and the others as the gospel spreads up the Mediterranean coast. Most importantly, Luke alludes to Jesus’ plan for the disciples (1:8). The church in Judea, Galilee, and Samaria is growing and enjoying a time of peace. This is the first mention of the kingdom’s impact to the north, in Galilee, though it is not surprising, given the presence of believers as far north as Damascus and surrounding areas. As grand as Luke’s story is, there is a lot more going on that he does not include. Believers are present in many places, with no account of how they got there beyond the fact that the disciples scattered and went out preaching the gospel immediately after Stephen’s death.

Luke includes all believers in the singular “church.” The singular is used in the NT for house churches but also for the collective body of believers. The KJV has “churches,” but earlier and better NT manuscripts have the singular, and those are followed in the ESV, NIV, NLT, and NASB. Here the term refers to what we call the “church universal,” that is, all believers worldwide.

“Walking in the fear of the Lord” refers to living with an awareness of God’s greatness and power. As in the rest of the Bible, the term “fear” is common in Acts (2:43; 5:5, 11; 10:2; 13:26; 16:29; 19:17). Walking in the fear of God means living with the knowledge that the God who loves us and gave his Son for us is also the creator and judge of the world. As Proverbs says, “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom” (Prov. 9:10). Some readers shy away from such language, thinking it inappropriate to the new covenant, but the God of the Bible is worthy of fear in any era (cf. Heb. 12:29). Jesus is “gentle and lowly in heart” (Matt. 11:29), but he is also the ruling and reigning king of the universe, pictured in John’s vision with a sword coming from his mouth, a symbol for judgment (Rev. 1:16; 2:16; 19:15, 21). He is on our side, and whoever opposes us opposes him.

Luke associates walking in this “fear” with living “in the comfort of the Holy Spirit.” The early years of the church are tumultuous, often dangerous, sometimes life-threatening, but through the power of the Spirit the believers have assurance and confidence. What Luke describes as “fear” and “comfort” is a healthy Christian life—made healthy not by circumstances but by God, regardless of the circumstances. In this condition the church continues to grow and make good on Jesus’ promise.