A Homily for the Feast of the Conversion of Saint Paul

And he, trembling and astonished, said, “Lord, what wilt thou have me do?”

—Acts of the Apostles 9:6

Today, in the midst of the Epiphany season, we commemorate the conversion of Saint Paul. But, in keeping with the theme of the season, we might also call this Feast the Epiphany (or manifestation) of Jesus Christ to Saul of Tarsus.

In place of the Epistle today we have heard a rather long reading from the book called “Acts of the Apostles.” As you know, that is the second volume of a two-volume work by Saint Luke; the first volume is the Gospel according to Saint Luke. And the second volume, the book called “Acts,” is about how the work of Jesus was carried on after his ascension into heaven.

When we first read about Saul of Tarsus in Scripture, he is guarding the coats of those men who stoned the Deacon Stephen to death. Stephen, of course, is the first Christian martyr of whom we have any record. He was killed for the supposed blasphemy of teaching that Jesus Christ was the Son of God. Those who killed him were pious, orthodox men, who believed that they were serving God by destroying the heretic Christians.

Saul was then a young man. He had come from the city of Tarsus in Asia minor to Jerusalem to study with the famous rabbi Gamaliel. He was a pharisee, one of those who were zealous of Torah, of the law of Moses. Although he was living in Jerusalem, he apparently never saw or heard Jesus during his ministry.

After the murder of Deacon Stephen, Saul secured a commission from the Jewish authorities to go to Damascus to root out the Christians in that city. As we heard in the reading from the Acts, while he was traveling from Jerusalem to Damascus he met Jesus in a most startling and dramatic way.

During this Epiphany season, we are reading or hearing about how Jesus manifested himself as the Son of God, first to the wise men from the east who followed a star to Bethlehem, then to the elders of the Temple who were astonished at his learning and wisdom, then at the wedding in Cana of Galilee (when he turned the water into wine). Next week we shall hear of his manifestation in his first healing miracles. And this appearance to Saul on the Damascus Road was another manifestation, another epiphany.

We should take particular notice of how Saul responded to this epiphany. He was trembling and astonished, but he said: “Lord, what do you want me to do?”

His response was comparable to that of Noah, who (in Scripture, if not in Bill Cosby’s comedy routine) received God’s command to build an ark, and set about doing it without question. It is comparable to the response of Abraham, who, at God’s command, gathered his family together and led them off to an unknown country. It is comparable to the response of Moses, who, having heard God’s voice from the burning bush left the safety of Midian to return to Egypt and confront Pharaoh. It is comparable to the response of Isaiah, who, when he heard the voice of God ask, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” answered, “Here am I, send me.”

And Saul’s response is comparable to that of our Lady, herself, who, overshadowed by the Holy Spirit and overwhelmed by the angel’s message, said: “Behold the handmaiden of the Lord, be it unto me according to thy word.”

In this morning’s reading, when Saul asks, “What do you want me to do?” Jesus tells him where to go and whom to speak with in Damascus. But we know from the rest of the Acts, as well as from his letters, that God’s answer to Saul’s question was a lot more complicated than that. Over the next twenty to twenty-five years, Paul, the last-called of the Apostles—as he put it, like one born at the wrong time—became the most effective missionary and theologian of the early Church.

A pious Jew, a pharisee who in his youth would not have entered the home of a non-Jew or shared a meal with him, became the Apostle to the Gentiles, carrying the Christian message to the people of Asia minor, Greece, and ultimately Rome itself. The man who held the coats of those who killed Deacon Stephen was eventually killed himself, beheaded by a Roman sword, for the same offense as Stephen’s.

It was a dangerous question that Saul, as he was then called, asked of Jesus: “What do you want me to do?” It was dangerous because the one who asked had no way of anticipating how much would be required of him. It was dangerous because, by asking it, he was surrendering his own will and giving up his control over his own life.

We do not know when or how Jesus will manifest himself to us. Not many have an experience like Saul’s on the Damascus Road. For some the manifestation is sudden; for others it is gradual. It is always a bit surprising. To the soldier Martin of Tours, in the fourth century, Jesus was manifested as a beggar, naked and cold beside the road; to Teresa of Calcutta, Jesus was manifested as a crippled Hindu beggar in a train station.

What matters is not so much how the epiphany comes to us, but how we respond to it. Are we willing to ask Saul’s dangerous question, “What do you want me to do?” Are we willing to say with our Lady, “Behold the handmaiden [or the servant] of the Lord, be it unto me according to thy word”?

To a rich young man of thirteenth century Italy, Jesus’s voice said, “Rebuild my Church.” And Francesco Bernardone, taking the words literally, first tried to rebuild the ruined church of San Damiano in his hometown of Assisi, before understanding that he had been entrusted with a much greater mission than that. Francis of Assisi is not remembered for his first impulsiveness in misunderstanding the task, but for his perseverance in pursuing the greater task that had been given him.

What is perhaps most surprising is that the surrendered life is not one of regret, or unhappiness, tolerated because of some greater good. It is a life of joy and freedom.

When Saul of Tarsus was baptized and became Paul the Christian, he gave up his promising career as a rabbi, his friends among the pious Jews, whatever comfort and safety was available to him. He asked Jesus, “What do you want me to do?” and Jesus sent him to faraway places to teach strangers about a strange new religion. In his letters, Paul recounts the price he paid: beatings, imprisonments, shipwrecks, betrayals. But he never complains. He experiences frustration, anger, sadness, but never regret.

And this is the same thing that we know about others who have followed his example. Brother Francis and Mother Teresa experienced hunger, extreme poverty, harsh treatment. And yet, their lives were full of joy because they were doing what Jesus wanted them to do.

We cannot know how Jesus will be manifested to us. Perhaps, like Saul of Tarsus, we will see a blinding light, or perhaps, like Martin of Tours, we will see him in a beggar beside the road. Perhaps his epiphany will come over us slowly, over a period of time.

How will we respond to this epiphany? Will we, like Saul, respond by asking: “Lord, what do you want me to do?”

Church of Our Lady of Walsingham

Corona, California

25 January 2004