Suddenly a light

The Conversion of St. Paul, Caravaggio

Once there was a man, powerful, self-satisfied, sure of his own rightness and righteousness. Merciless acts received his approving smile. He himself set into motion the removal and imprisonment of entire households, causing many to flee for their lives. Threats and hatred were the air he breathed.

Until one day, he got the wind knocked out of him by an audible Word, a shining Light from heaven. The One who was the Word of creation at the beginning, the now Ascended Christ, was re-creating this man. From his breathless place in the dirt on the road to Damascus, the Risen Jesus breathed out, “Rise!” (Acts 9) 

Today, on the Feast of the Conversion of Saul, we remember that there is no one—not one—who is beyond God’s redemptive reach. There is no one—not one—who has perpetrated too much evil to be made new and carry his name.

Not even you or me. Thanks be to God.

On this day we see too that while God’s action can seem achingly slow in the face of the brokenness of the world, at times his redemption comes with breathtaking swiftness, with a loving, merciful authority that astounds us. Our darkness is most often transformed by the long, slow dawning of morning, it is true. But sometimes, mysteriously, confoundingly, where there was once only darkness, there is “suddenly a light” (Acts 9:3).

Let us not lose hope for this swift saving action of God—for our own hearts or for others.

In Z. Randall Stroope’s masterful choral work “The Conversion of Saul,” (which I had the privilege of performing many years ago) we are immersed in the sudden transformation of the enemy of God’s people into a child of God. It almost feels like three different songs in one. 

I encourage you to listen before reading on.

It begins in a furious staccato outlining Saul’s ravishing of Jerusalem with Latin lines that translate to:

Saul! Murder, harass, bind into chains! Saul!

Chain, prosecute, and harass!

The chaotic action consolidates down to a single note sung in unison:

Saul!

Then Jesus’s words:

Why do you persecute me? Why? Why?

Stroope describes Jesus commissioning Saul to bring the light of the gospel to the Gentiles in these swelling, majestic lines:

Fall down on your knees, turn hatred into love.

Turn darkness into light.

This is the work of the people of God. This kind of redemptive transformation is our inheritance in Christ. 

Then, in the final lines, Jesus commands Saul’s allegiance:

Bow down, Saul! Bow down, Saul!

Saul, Saul, Saul.

But far from harsh and demanding, these are the softest, tenderest, most intimate stanzas of the entire piece. It is not optional—he is the King. But the tone of the music reveals the loving invitation in Jesus’s words. The song concludes by transforming into a major key as Jesus repeats his name.

In these chaotic days with so many people and causes calling for our ultimate, unquestioning allegiance, there is only One authority who is Love itself. As we heed his gentle, urgent call to bow down, when we lower our selves in poverty of spirit, we receive a kingdom that cannot be shaken (Mat. 5:3), and a Voice that cries out, “Rise!”

Do not fear. Here at his feet, it is safe to hope for transformation.