Conversion

Throughout the centuries a few “scholars” have expressed doubts about the apostle Paul’s dramatic, life-changing conversion. Some labeled it an overheated/unbalanced imagination at work or a bizarre hallucination. Others think it was an epileptic seizure, the manifestation of a strong neurosis, or even a common case of sunstroke. The list of postulations is lengthy.

James S. Stewart wrote, “Too often the line has been taken of interpreting the event which revolutionized the man’s life as the product of natural causes or the climax of ascertainable psychological processes. Against such a view it’s necessary to record a very definite protest.”

According to Paul himself, his encounter with the risen Christ on the Damascus road was as real as rain. Certainly he replayed the unforgettable scenario in his mind repeatedly but he never once questioned its supernatural validity. I, too, have experienced moments when God intervened in my life and I’m positive it wasn’t my imagination on overdrive because every instance occurred before I surrendered my heart, mind and soul to Jesus. Nobody else was there. I was. And I know they were divine interventions. Therefore, I believe Paul’s story.

I’m reminded of Jesus’ response to Peter after the disciple confessed to Him, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.“ Our Lord said to him, “Flesh and blood did not reveal this to you, but My Father in heaven“ (Matthew 16:16-17). The same applies to Paul. W.R. Matthews commented, “In the end the problem of the supernatural resolves itself into the question of the existence of the living God.”

Stewart wrote, “No horizontal line of cause and effect could explain it. It had come vertically from above. The living God, unsearchable in His sovereign freedom, inscrutable in His absolute wisdom, had there and then interposed. Paul’s own soul owed everything to an experience of which he could say with utter certainty that it was no mere resultant of human and natural forces, but a direct, original act of supernatural grace.” Johannes Weiss concluded that Paul’s conversion was “no subjective ‘vision’ in the modern psychological sense, but a real beholding of the glorified Christ.”

Paul based his entire apostolic credentials on what occurred that infamous day. Jesus had appeared before him in person. And the proof was in the pudding, so to speak. He wrote to the church, “Am I not free? Am I not an apostle? Have I not seen Jesus our Lord? Are you not my work in the Lord? If I’m not an apostle to others, at least I am to you, for you’re the confirming sign of my apostleship in the Lord. That’s my defense to those who examine me“ (1 Corinthians 9:1-3).

In his Confessions Augustine wrote of his own profound “come to Jesus” moment, declaring: “With Thy calling and shouting Thou didst break my deafness; with Thy flashing and shining Thou didst scatter my blindness. At the scent of Thee I drew in breath, and I pant for Thee. I have tasted, and I hunger and thirst. Thou hast touched me, and I am on fire for Thy peace.”

Most Christians accept Paul’s testimony as the absolute truth. Yet there are some who opine it was so surreal and extraordinary that it adversely tainted his ministry; that afterwards he preached a misleading “conversion theology.” They wonder if such a mind-boggling event was a suitable guide for Paul to discover the truth, if it’s possibly an obstacle for those whose conversion wasn’t nearly as arresting, if it makes a lot of his teaching hard to grasp or perhaps, in some cases, indecipherable.

Respected as he was, Weiss was among the skeptics. He wrote that many believers who were raised in the church “aren’t conscious of having ever experienced justification or the forgiveness of sins as a special act, seeing that from the earliest days they’ve lived in the atmosphere of God’s grace; and to be reborn as a ‘new creature’ seems to them organically impossible because they’re well aware that the question for them can only be one of slow and gradual progress, not without moments of stumbling and retreat.”

I can relate – to an extent. My parents dragged me to our church every time its doors were open. I heard hundreds of sermons based on sound doctrine. I “went down front” and got baptized when I was 9 because I felt it was what was expected of me. There was no epiphany, no heavenly spotlight, nothing out of the ordinary. And there were times when I wondered if it was genuine, since my conversion was far less spectacular than Paul’s. I suspect many have felt the same.

Yet no one was more aware of this dilemma than Paul. He called his teachings, “my Gospel“ (Romans 2:16). Stewart commented, “Frankly, he declared his inability to preach anything except what had been given him, and what had passed through the flames of his own soul. And, indeed, no Gospel that lacks an intensely individual touch can be worth very much. Hence it’s simply not true to say that, for those whose road has been different, Paul’s message is ‘unintelligible.'”

I’ve learned there’s no “cookie-cutter conversion.” Christ transforms His own “in the fullness of time“ (Galatians 4:4) and in a way that best suits our personality and/or circumstances. He knows us better than we know ourselves because He literally “knit us together“ in our mother’s womb (Psalm 139:14). The important thing is we’ve been saved from the wrath of God and blessed with eternal life via His suffering in our place upon the cross.

A mature Christian has no difficulties believing Paul’s conversion testimony. Stewart wrote, “They don’t feel the apostle’s talking in an unknown tongue. If they’re sensitive at all, they feel a kinship. They find themselves at home with this great ardent soul who knew life’s heights and depths so well. They believe they can understand him. For Damascus, so far from setting Paul apart from us and keeping us away, has made him brother of us all.”

Kicking Against the Goads

Paul spoke about his dramatic conversion on the Damascus road often. He once testified, “I saw a light from heaven, brighter than the sun shining everywhere around me and those traveling with me. When we’d all fallen to the ground, I heard a voice saying to me in Aramaic, ‘Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me? You’re hurting yourself by kicking against the goads.’ So I said, ‘Who are you, Lord?’ And the Lord replied, ‘I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting’” (Acts 26:14-15).

Why would our Savior say such a thing if it wasn’t something He knew would shake Paul to his core? How could it not have been an intentional jab that struck Paul in the place where he was certain his growing doubts about his religion were safe from being discovered by his peers?

Since goads (sharply-pointed sticks) aren’t found in our modern-day vernacular it’s important to know what that statement, coming from Jesus, means. James S. Stewart wrote, “The vivid little picture of the recalcitrant animal which, as it’s being yoked to the plow kicks out at the man behind it and only injures itself by doing so, suggests very forcibly the condition of Paul’s mind and heart immediately prior to his apprehension by Christ.”

So, what were the “goads” Paul had been kicking against? There were several but one that troubled him greatly was his ever increasing sense that Judaism’s strict laws, the very things he’d long been consumed by and dedicated to defend, were insufficient to save anyone’s soul. He’d done everything a loyal member of God’s chosen race was supposed to do. Nevertheless, he had yet to find inner peace and it gnawed at him immensely.

Stewart opined: “Whatever else his religion had done for him, it had certainly not yet brought him peace with God, and he was beginning to feel it never would. Against that feeling he fought with might and main. To toy with it would be treachery. To countenance it would be to blow out the light of faith and piety. Hence the fury of his attack on the new sect. Action might relieve his brooding. The wild whirlwind campaign might dissipate the uneasy shadows and questionings which were hanging about his mind. But stubbornly the shadows refused to lift. The questions persisted. Kick as he might, the goads still stung.”

Mentally and spiritually he was caught between a rock and a hard place. He couldn’t bring himself to simply abandon the religion he’d spent his whole life studying so he’d opted to take his frustration out on Jesus’ followers. Yet the goads continued piercing him because there were so many otherwise intelligent, respectable people who believed Christ was who He said He was. He knew Jesus wasn’t a phony.

Stewart commented: “It isn’t credible that a man like the young Pharisee from Tarsus, with a mind so keen, alert and wide awake, and a soul so passionately religious, would allow any contemporary movement of thought or any new kind of religion to escape his scrutiny. He knew of Jesus’ Messianic claim. Contact with the victims of his persecution added to his knowledge of their fundamental beliefs and stimulated his curiosity about a Man who, even when He was dead (as this Man assuredly was), could rouse such devotion in His followers. He couldn’t quite cast off an impression which his own inquiries into Jesus’ teaching and character had produced, nor silence a still small voice that bore a different witness. It was hard to kick against the goads.”

Paul was also impressed with how Christians conducted themselves when attacked. No matter how many insults, injuries and hardships they were subjected to on a daily basis, they displayed a remarkable amount of faith, happiness, and courage that was inexplicable. They obviously possessed something he’d been hungering after his entire life but had never experienced. He desperately wanted what they had.

One of the Psalmists had prophesied the way folks like Paul would view God’s elect when he wrote: “At that time we laughed loudly and shouted for joy. At that time the nations said, ‘The LORD has accomplished great things for these people‘“ (Psalm 126:2). Surely Paul realized that Christians in general had obtained something he hadn’t.

The death of Stephen probably affected him most. Stewart wrote, “If there was one circumstance to which Paul’s mind would frequently return, it must’ve been the strange way in which Stephen’s last words appeared to tally with and verify the central Christian belief that Jesus who’d died was alive and exalted in glory. Hadn’t Stephen with his dying breath declared, ‘I see the heavens opened, and the Son of Man standing on the right hand of God?‘ Hadn’t he spoken to One unseen and cried, ‘Lord Jesus, receive my spirit?‘ (Acts 7:54-60). The memory of Stephen’s eyes as he gazed heavenward in death, and of his colloquy with some living Spirit whom he called by Jesus’ name, troubled the Pharisee’s soul. It was hard to kick against the goads.”

R.C. Sproul had a lot to say about Paul’s reaction to the horrible spectacle of martyrdom he’d approved. He opined: “Paul knew the execution of Stephen was unjust. Paul knew the execution was against the Law of Moses, of which he was an expert. Yet he let it happen. That’s our introduction to the man. He almost certainly at that time in his life thought he was doing the right thing, just as many people today believe that women ought to have the right to kill their own babies.”

Sproul added, “Paul was sure he was right, but he couldn’t have been more wrong than to participate in the murder of a saint. Later on, Paul referred to himself as ‘the chief of sinners‘ (1 Timothy 1:15). He wasn’t being dramatic or humble; he really believed it, because if anyone should have known better on that day in Jerusalem, it was Saul of Tarsus.”

Stephen’s brutal murder haunted him. That was the goad that pricked Paul most.

Paul on Legalism

While he had problems with the Pharisees who’d created and nurtured a “religion of the Law”, Paul never intended for Christians to discard the Mosaic Law altogether. He taught that it was still viable and beneficial. Jesus preached, “Do not think that I’ve come to abolish the Law or the prophets. I’ve not come to abolish these things but to fulfill them“ (Matthew 5:17). Paul respected the Law. He wrote, “The Law is holy, and the commandment is holy, righteous, and good“ (Romans 7:12).

Augustine commented, “The law is given that Grace may be sought; Grace is given that the Law might be fulfilled.” James S. Stewart opined, “Paul, as a Jew, had thought that men should keep the Law in order that they might be saved. As a Christian he saw that men must be saved in order that they might keep the Law.”

Nevertheless, Paul stressed that the Law was powerless to save anyone’s soul. He wrote, “If a law had been given that was able to give life, then righteousness would certainly have come by the Law“ (Galatians 3:21). Stewart commented, “Jewish legalism might point to man the road to travel, but actually to set him upon that road and give him strength for the journey was more than it could do.” Paul on the Holy Spirit: “To Him who by the power that’s working within us is able to do far beyond all that we ask or think, to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations“ (Ephesians 3:20-21).

Paul firmly believed the Law’s core purpose was to expose the profound ugliness of our sinful nature. He confessed, “I wouldn’t have known sin except through the Law“ (Romans 7:7). How true. For example, we wouldn’t consider lying sinful if God hadn’t told us, “Do not give false testimony against your neighbor“ (Exodus 20:16). Paul explained, “No one is declared righteous before God by the works of the Law, for through the Law comes the knowledge of sin“ (Romans 3:20).

Not only that, but the fact is the Law can actually instigate sinful actions and thoughts. Paul exclaimed, “I found that the very commandment that was intended to bring life brought death!“ (Romans 7:10). Modern psychology has many deficiencies, but one thing it’s spot on about is when you tell someone not to do something, it predictably makes that person want to do it more than ever before. Face it, a reprobate heart is inherently insolent and rebellious.

Paul deemed the Law a temporary measure, an intermediate stage at best. It wasn’t intended to be looked upon as the ultimate revelation of God. Stewart wrote, “God isn’t a prisoner in His own laws; God is alive, and therefore at any moment new truth may come breaking in. Blindness to this cardinal fact of religion was largely responsible for the fanatic outburst that nailed Jesus to the cross; and if there’s one lesson which, after Calvary, ought to be written upon the world’s conscience as with a pen of iron on the rock, it’s that the obscurantist attitude, the closed mind in every form, is fundamentally irreligious and heathen.”

Case in point: Paul taught the function of the Law was to prepare the way for the miraculous Incarnation that is Jesus, writing, “Thus the Law had become our guardian until Christ, so that we could be declared righteous by faith“ (Galatians 3:24). The Pharisees simply couldn’t accept that a new covenant had arrived along with the promised Messiah who stood before them. To do so would crush their egos and render them less important.

In essence, Paul was sure that the Law, having fulfilled its purpose, was now secondary to following, worshiping and obeying Jesus. “For Christ is the end of the Law, with the result that there’s righteousness for everyone who believes“ (Romans 10:4). Stewart commented, “With a stroke of imaginative genius, Paul sees above Jesus’ head, not the historic superscription ‘The King of the Jews,’ but the condemnation pronounced on mankind by the Law; and the truth which he wishes to drive home is that Christ, by dying, had ended the Law’s claim on man, and satisfied its ultimate demands, and thus finished its tyranny forever.”

Paul steadfastly reiterated this doctrine often. For example: “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the Law by becoming a curse for us (because it’s written, ‘Cursed is everyone who hangs on a tree’)“ (Galatians 3:13, Deuteronomy 21:23). Of course, Paul’s teaching only further infuriated the Jewish leaders who insisted that the Law was the only thing standing between order and chaos. They were mistaken. James Moffatt wrote, “They had made the Law their Christ, while God intended Christ to be the Law.”

Paul’s Gospel message wasn’t only intended to present salvation as a divine gift that had now and forevermore become available to everybody via faith alone. Jesus, the mediator between God and mankind, had made it possible for all races, creeds and colors to be of equal spiritual status.

Stewart commented, “A Christianity cramped in its action by the trappings of legalism was as little fit to face the world as David in Saul’s hampering armor was fit to face Goliath. And any Christianity which hankered after the Law was virtually denying the finality of Jesus. Were men slow to realize this? Bluntly Paul would force on them the question, ‘Has Christ done all, or has He left something undone?’ You say, ‘He has done all.’ Then go on and draw the obvious conclusion – the Law can add nothing.”

Paul summed it up succinctly: “You who are trying to be declared righteous by the Law have been alienated from Christ; you’ve fallen away from grace!“ (Galatians 5:4) and “I do not set aside God’s grace, because if righteousness could come through the Law, then Christ died for nothing“ (Galatians 2:21).

In the final analysis, faith in Jesus is only hope we have and belief in Him all we need in order to receive eternal life. Period.

Paul’s Confession

Paul began Romans 7 confirming that believers in Jesus “have been released from the law, because we’ve died to what controlled us, so that we may serve in the new life of the Spirit and not under the old written code“ (v.6), reinforcing what Christ promised His followers, “Take My yoke on you and learn from Me, because I’m gentle and humble in heart, and you’ll find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy to bear, and My load isn’t hard to carry“ (Matthew 11:29-30).

Then, at the chapter’s end, Paul abruptly delivered a stunning confession: “I don’t understand what I’m doing. For I don’t do what I want – instead, I do what I hate. But if I do what I don’t want, I agree that the law is good. But now it’s no longer me doing it, but sin that lives in me. For I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my flesh. For I want to do the good, but I cannot do it. For I don’t do the good I want, but I do the very evil I don’t want! Now if I do what I don’t want, it’s no longer me doing it but sin that lives in me“ (v.15-20).

He wasn’t finished. He added, “So, I find the law that when I want to do good, evil is present with me. For I delight in the law of God in my inner being. But I see a different law in my members war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that’s in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who’ll rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!“ (v.21-25).

This extraordinary passage has spawned two questions over the centuries. (A) Is Paul describing the struggle of an unbeliever or how even the redeemed feel at times? (B) Is this Paul’s personal confession or is it general in nature?

James S. Stewart wrote: “On the former question we need not linger long. The very fact that the name of Christ isn’t heard until the closing verse, that Jesus is nowhere in all this chapter until He comes in suddenly in the doxology which proclaims the conflict ended and the victory won, is a clear indication that it’s the experience of a life still requiring to be born again which is being described.”

Therefore, it’s evident Paul is depicting here (before the glorious blessing expressed in the last verse happens) a reprobate man or woman who has no hope whatsoever of deliverance from their “body of death.” Stewart opined that Paul was saying, “This is what my life is, and yours, and the life of all the world – apart from Christ.” Edward Denny stated, “No one could’ve written the passage but a Christian, as seen through regenerated eyes.”

As for question #2, Stewart answered it thusly: “If ever words bore all the evidences of having been wrung from the agony of a man’s own soul, these poignant sentences most surely do. No literary convention makes a man speak as Paul has spoken here. In his very heart’s blood this page was written. ‘This was my struggle’, says Paul, ‘this my defeat; and this, thank God, my victory!'” Charles Raven wrote, “No man has ever given himself away more generously or to better purpose. Such self-giving is the finest and hardest task of discipleship.”

It’s vital we examine Paul’s references to the sin that lives “in the flesh.” August Cremer labeled it “all that is peculiar to human nature in its corporeal embodiment”, while Karl Barth stated, “What, indeed, does flesh mean but the complete inadequacy of the creature when he stands before the Creator?” Stewart opined, “Though not evil in itself, the flesh is that part of man’s nature which gives evil its opportunity. It’s the thing on which sin impinges and to which it attaches itself.”

Sin is a globally inclusive curse that recognizes no nation’s boundaries but it’s also, according to Paul, personal. H.J. Holtzmann wrote, “The flesh is a substance, but sin is a force.” That’s what Jesus was teaching us when he said, regarding the Spirit of God’s power to defeat demons, “How else can someone enter a strong man’s house and steal his property, unless he first ties up the strong man? Then he can thoroughly plunder the house“ (Matthew 12:29). Who’s the “strong man?” The devil. As Christ told His disciples, “I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven“ (Luke 10:18).

All this accentuates Paul’s admonitions wherein he repeatedly warned us, “For our struggle isn’t against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world rulers of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavens“ (Ephesians 6:12); of the “basic forces of the world“ (Galatians 4:3); and of “the elemental spirits of the world“ (Colossians 2:8).

Stewart commented, “Sin wasn’t something a man did; it was something that took possession of him, something the man was, something that turned him into an open enemy of the God who loved him. It brought outward penalties. But far more appalling were its inward results. It tormented the conscience, it destroyed fellowship with God, it hardened the heart, blinded the judgment, and warped the moral sense. Such is Paul’s estimate of sin’s overwhelming gravity.”

Does this mean Christians stand defenseless against “the strong man” Satan and his legion of demons? Not at all. Paul said God’s chosen are “more than conquerors through Christ who loved us“ (Romans 8:37). We’re to pray for the spiritual strength to overcome every temptation.

Stewart concluded, “Through it all, even where sin is regarded as an external force waiting to take advantage of human nature in its frailty, Paul will allow no blurring of the fact of personal accountability. Principalities and powers may lay in wait, but in the last resort man’s is the choice, man’s the responsibility, and man’s the doom.”

Paul and the “Religion of The Law”

Most depictions of Saul of Tarsus in movies and TV series’ present him as a hate-filled maniac who persecuted Christians because it gave him pleasure. However, the truth could be that he was simply a devoted Pharisee who felt it was his sworn duty to protect and defend “the law” at all costs. Perhaps he wasn’t the bloodthirsty ogre screenwriters have turned him into.

James S. Stewart wrote: “Judaism never had a better champion. No one could rival him in enthusiasm for the spiritual heritage of his people. He plunged eagerly into the life which law and tradition seemed beckoning him. He flung himself into the observance of their commands with unmatched ardor. But that boundless enthusiasm of the young devotee was doomed to receive a check. He found that the more keenly he pursued his ideal, the further it receded. The righteousness on which his heart was set stood far off, mocking his endeavor. Feelings of doubt and disillusionment began to creep in.”

In other words, the Pharisaical “religion of the law” left him and other Hebrews unfulfilled. Any religion that turns too legalistic, Christianity included, will eventually crumble under its own weight because it promotes the futile dogma of redemption via human effort. It instills in people a false requisite; that to achieve salvation one must fight the world, the flesh and the devil on their own; that they need to construct and climb their personal “stairway to heaven.” Biblically speaking, it can’t be done and Paul, after his encounter with Jesus, knew the law was insufficient to save.

Stewart commented: “No man can save himself. This was Paul’s great discovery. A drowning man doesn’t want a lecture on the art of swimming. He wants a rope to cling to. Nor does a lame man ask for a guidepost to point the way. He asks for an arm to lean upon. But the very weariness of those unavailing efforts to achieve one’s own salvation may prepare the soul of man to hear the cry, ‘Stand still and see the salvation of God‘ (Exodus 14:13).”

Legalistic mindsets, such as Saul and the Pharisees he served possessed, tend to cultivate a mercenary attitude. Stewart explained: “The great central requirement of doing justly, loving mercy and walking with God aren’t always easy of fulfillment. But what matters a few failures if you can point to a whole host of meritorious actions – prayers, fastings, tithes, and the like – faithfully and rigorously performed? Thus arises the strange and rather terrible spectacle of a man bargaining with his Creator. No man can have God in his debt. God has every man immeasurably in His.”

Legalism also creates an attraction to negatives, as in “Thou shalt not _____” (Fill in the blank.) When an individual becomes obsessed with shutting out and/or eliminating all acts and thoughts they deem “evil” they often shut out God’s wonderful, life-enriching light in the process. Jesus preached that doing so could endanger one’s soul. “When an unclean spirit goes out of a person, it passes through waterless places looking for rest but doesn’t find it. Then it says ‘I’ll return to the home I left.’ When it returns, it finds the house empty, swept clean, and put in order. Then it goes and brings with it seven other spirits more evil than itself, and they go in and live there, so the last state of that person is worse than the first“ (Matthew 12:43-45).

Predictably, what started as a river of good intentions flooded completely out of its banks. The fundamental roster of God’s ten commandments of Jewish law grew exponentially until obeying the list of rules became totally impossible. One estimation is the number reached 1,521! Little wonder Judaism’s adherents dissolved into four categories.

Some had gotten so frustrated they became irreligious. There wasn’t enough time in the day to check every box of obligation, while others became so overly fixated on dotting every i and crossing every t of the law their lives were joyless. Another group were those who favored compromise. They found loopholes in the law they considered somewhat acceptable and far less demanding.

Stewart wrote: “The snare of compromise has always been religion’s most serious enemy, and the higher the religion the greater the danger. Men will always find ways and means of eluding a religion’s stern demands while still calling themselves its followers, signing its creeds, and continuing to bear its name. They don’t realize that attitude, seeming so reasonable and respectable, is dealing religion a blow, doing it a damage compared with which all the direct frontal attacks of its open enemies are a mere nothing. So it was with Judaism.”

The fourth class of Jews were those who, in their heart, were disappointed and dissatisfied with the “religion of the law.” It’s fair to surmise Saul of Tarsus was one of them because the other three designations didn’t fit his demeanor at all. To intimate that he was content to blindly accept whatever the Sanhedrin told him was the truth insults his extraordinary intelligence and his insatiable curiosity about the nature of the divine.

Stewart opined: “It was a hopeless situation. Nor was it in any way improved or lightened by the conviction, deeply rooted in the Jewish mind, that failure at one point meant failure everywhere.” He couldn’t bring himself to believe the law itself was in any way to blame for his conundrum. As he wrote later, “What shall we say then? Is the law sin? Absolutely not!“ (Romans 7:7). What was most likely beginning to dawn on him was that the cause of his predicament was his corrupted, sinful human nature. He would eventually conclude, “For we know that the law is spiritual – but I am unspiritual, sold into slavery to sin“ (Romans 7:14) and that “God achieved what the law couldn’t do because it was weakened by the flesh“ (Romans 8:3).

Nevertheless, it took a personal and dramatic intervention by Christ Himself to transform Saul the Pharisee into Paul the anointed apostle.

Early Influences on Paul

We’re all influenced to some extent by the culture we’re raised in. Paul was no exception. Two influences were Stoic philosophy and the mystery religions. While neither became as embedded as profoundly in his heart as Judaism and, after his conversion, Christianity, traces of both are evident in his preaching/writing style and therefore worth delving into.

Stoicism was founded around 300 BC in Athens by Zeno of Citium and quickly spread throughout the Roman empire. Its emphasis on morality and developing a humanitarian mindset had mass appeal. Its adherents were more than eager to carry its message abroad. It’s fair to call them missionaries.

James S. Stewart wrote, “The deep things of the soul, the need for moral reformation and spiritual rebirth, the way to victory over life and death – these were the themes on which the Stoic orator discoursed with all the eloquence and appeal at his command. It’s no wonder that, in that weary, disillusioned world, men stopped to listen.”

Wikipedia states: “Stoic philosophy is traditionally divided into three interconnected disciplines: logic, physics, and ethics. Stoic logic focuses on highly intentional reasoning through propositions, arguments, and the differentiation between truth and falsehood. Philosophical discourse is paramount in Stoicism, including the view that the mind is in rational dialogue with itself. Stoic ethics centers on virtue as the highest good, cultivating emotional self-control, a calm problem-solving state of mind, and rational judgment to attain lifelong flourishing.”

Stoic discourses were called Diatribes and they were typically characterized by rhetorical questions, short and sometimes disconnected sentences, the employment of an imaginary objector, and relatable illustrations from human life. All these tendencies show up from time to time in Paul’s letters. For instance, his use of the word “conscience” comes directly from Stoicism.

Stewart commented, “When Paul declares to the Colossians that all things ‘cohere in’ Christ, when he depicts Christ as the unifying principle of life, the form of expression at least is reminiscent of Stoic doctrine, and may have been chosen deliberately to bring home Christ’s cosmic significance to those whose minds had already been familiarized, by the work of non-Christian preachers, with the thought of a world-soul binding all creation together.”

In no way am I saying Paul was a Stoic. The fact that he was intuitive enough to borrow from Stoicism’s positive ideals and terminologies only prove that he was intellectually aware concerning the societal mentality of the people he was taking the Gospel to. Truth is, the differences between Stoicism and Christianity vastly outnumber the similarities.

Stewart pointed out, “The Stoic teachers preached pantheism. At the center of Paul’s devotion was a personal God, once for all revealed in Christ. At the center of Stoicism was a dim, ill-defined ‘Something’, world-spirit, fate, destiny – call it what you will. Stoicism suffered from the weakness that’s been the doom of all pantheistic systems from the beginning: it could speak of a God within, but could offer no God without. Man was thrust in upon himself for salvation. His, not God’s, was the initiative. There was no doctrine of grace. The one thing which to Paul was paramount, the one glorious truth which Christianity existed to proclaim, was nowhere in Stoicism at all. Stoicism, worked out to its logical conclusion, is a religion of despair.”

Another influence was the plethora of the era’s mystery religions. Paul knew all about them. We’re told in Acts 17:22-23, “Paul stood before the Areopagus and said, ‘Men of Athens, I see that you are very religious in all aspects. For as I went around and observed closely your objects of worship, I even found an altar with this inscription: “To an unknown God.” Therefore what you worship without knowing it, this I proclaim to you.”

The Encyclopedia Britannica states: “Mystery religions (or mystery cults) were private religious associations in the ancient Mediterranean whose rites were restricted to initiates. They supplemented public Greek and Roman religion by offering personal religious experiences, deeper ritual participation, and hopes related to the afterlife.”

There were three important aspects of the mystery religions that made Paul’s efforts to establish Christianity in pagan strongholds more likely to succeed. First was their adherents’ refusal to “sync up” their religion with others of their ilk. Their beliefs were exclusive. Thus, when Paul wrote, “If after all there are so-called gods, whether in heaven or on earth (as there are many gods and many lords), yet for us there is one God, the Father, from whom are all things and for whom we live, and one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom are all things and through whom we live“ (1 Corinthians 8:5-6), that concept resonated with many.

Second, the Church’s ruling out any attempts to compromise its tenets to appease followers of other religions had a similar effect. The Roman rulers couldn’t tolerate worship of the King of kings. Stewart wrote: “It was because the Church under no circumstances would play the game of syncretism that the Church, like its Lord, was crucified, dead, and buried. And it was because of the same refusal that the Church – again like its Lord – survived death, and broke the tomb, and went to work in the world.”

Thirdly, it was the difference, not the familiarity, of the Christian religion that impressed the pagans. They’d grown weary of worshiping imaginary gods who only seemed to quarrel, fight and gossip amongst each other constantly. As G.K. Chesterton wrote: “There can be no parallel between what was admittedly a myth or mystery and what was admittedly a man.”

Stewart summarized thusly: “The cults’ concepts were sensuous, external, and ritualistic. In Paul’s gospel its heart and soul is faith. The Hellenistic world had nothing to say about faith. Christianity had everything to say about it. Initiation into the mysteries left faith out of sight, but baptism into Christ enthroned it. With the one, faith was nowhere. With the other, it was everywhere. That’s the decisive difference between the mystery religions and Paul, the final, fathomless gulf. Across it no bridge can be thrown.”

Why did Christ choose Paul?

To start off, it’s vital every Christian understand that our religion’s foundation is grounded in Judaism and Hebrew culture. It’s why the Old Testament is included in the Bible. James S. Stewart wrote: “The Hebrew attitude to life was its inheritance, the Hebrew genius for God its birthright. Jesus came, not to destroy, but to fulfill. Yet Christianity from the first was destined by God for a world-religion. Born and cradled in Judaism, it was to leave its ancestral home and face the desperate need of the whole earth.”

Therefore, when the time arrived for the the Good News to “go viral”, our Savior wisely chose a man who belonged to both Israel and the world beyond its borders. That man was the apostle Paul. He was a Jew and a Roman citizen. To change him from a vicious bounty hunter of anyone who dared follow our Lord into a passion-filled, effective herald of the Gospel, Jesus confronted Saul of Tarsus on the Damascus road in person and literally made him a “new creature”, a born again believer instantly transformed by the Holy Spirit.

Paul was the perfect man for the job.

Was Paul then ashamed of being a Jew? Did he try to keep it secret? Not at all. He wrote, “Are they Hebrews? So am I. Are they Israelites? So am I. Are they descendants of Abraham? So am I“ (2 Corinthians 11:22). He openly proclaimed, “I was circumcised on the eighth day, from the people of Israel and the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews, I lived according to the law as a Pharisee. In my zeal for God I persecuted the church. According to the righteousness stipulated in the law I was blameless. But these assets I’ve come to regard as liabilities because of Christ“ (Philippians 3:5-7).

The Pharisees weren’t inherently sinful. On the contrary, they had many noble intentions. Stewart commented, “In its origins, at any rate, the Pharisaic party stood for a perfectly right and healthy reaction against a cosmopolitan drift which was endangering the very foundations of morality. Fired with a passion for religious independence, refusing to be swamped by the denationalizing forces of the time, jealously guarding the historic heritage of faith and morals from the destroying influence of a subtle and pervasive invasion of paganism, the Pharisee rendered a real service, not only to their own land and creed, but to the cause of vital religion everywhere.”

Sadly, as is the case with every human institution, it became corrupted by pride and greed. The Pharisees became less interested in upholding righteousness, justice and compassion and became obsessed with dogmatic legalism that all but gutted their true and admirable ideals. How tragic!

Stewart opined, “It’s not only one of the greatest anomalies of history, but also one of the most solemnly significant of facts for every age to ponder, that the men who were, outwardly at least, the most religious people in the land, were ultimately the head and front of the opposition which compassed the death of the Son of God.”

Due to years and years of studying hard in the Rabbinic schools, Saul of Tarsus considered the Old Testament to be the only truth. But once his stony heart was regenerated by the Holy Spirit the ancient verses he knew by heart commenced to live and breathe with fresh revelations the Rabbinical teachings he’d treasured and respected had never revealed. Stewart commented, “Suddenly what he’d pondered and pored over so diligently for years was a new book. Deep answered to deep, insight called to insight; and all the majesty, the spirituality, and the urgency of the Old Testament revelation passed right over into Paul’s proclamation of the Good News of Christ.”

Paul also possessed a more extensive worldview than the other apostles who’d never ventured abroad had. He was born in a Hellenistic city and was brought up surrounded by the influences of a Grecian-Roman environment, including his familiarity with the Greek language that had become the standard vernacular outside of Israel. The forced dispersion of the Jews over the centuries had resulted in Jewish settlements springing up throughout the Roman empire. For example, there were over a million Jews in Egypt alone. They’re referred to as “the Diaspora.”

Stewart pointed out, “The distance of these scattered Jewish communities from Jerusalem and the Temple, the headquarters of their ancestral faith, necessitated a change in the center of gravity of their religion: it shifted from the Temple to the local synagogues. These gradually became the real home of their worship.”

Because this was the situation, the designated local Rabbis enforced strict rules intended to regulate the behavior and intermingling of the Diaspora with the pagan cultures they lived in and interacted with. Jews all over Europe, Africa and Asia were obliged to pay Temple dues and were encouraged to make regular pilgrimages to Jerusalem. Luke’s description in Acts of the international character of the crowd present on the day of Pentecost backs up that fact explicitly.

Why is that important? Stewart wrote, “If ever a Jew of the dispersion strove to be loyal to the land and law of his fathers, that Jew was Paul. His success as a missionary was due, in the main, to the extraordinary fascination which a lofty monotheism will always exercise upon the better elements in a pagan society which are growing weary of polytheism and its morally degrading accompaniments.”

Therefore Paul’s familiarity with the social mores and political trends that greatly influenced the religious attitude of the Diaspora prepared him well for boldly taking the Gospel message to them and the Gentiles. Paul was up for the challenge the Romans presented, announcing, “I’m a debtor both to the Greeks and to the barbarians, both to the wise and to the foolish. Thus I’m eager also to preach the gospel to you who are in Rome“ (Romans 1:14-15).

Jesus never sinned or made mistakes. Choosing Paul to be His mouthpiece was a crucial part of the plan all along.

Reactions to Paul

Sadly, some theologians have accused Paul of creating an alternate form of Christianity that contradicts and/or obscures Jesus’ simple Gospel of trust. They advocate eradicating Paul from the Bible altogether. James S. Stewart spoke out for the vast majority of believers who consider doing that nonsense. He wrote: “The alleged twist given by Paul to the Christian Gospel, turning it out of the channel which Jesus had intended for it and causing it to flow in a totally different direction, is simply myth and imagination. The truth is all the apostle’s great central conceptions – the grace of God, the justifying of the sinner, the adoption of sons, the death of the Redeemer, and all the rest – came to him straight out of the bosom of Jesus’ Gospel.”

Now, if Paul was a false teacher wouldn’t the other apostles have rejected him outright? On the contrary, Peter himself wrote to the churches: “Regard the patience of our Lord as salvation, just as our dear brother Paul wrote to you, according to the wisdom given to him, speaking of these things in all his letters. Some things in these letters are hard to understand, things the ignorant and unstable twist to their own destruction, as they also do to the rest of the Scriptures“ (2 Peter 3:15-16). Sounds like a glowing endorsement to me.

Stewart opined: “What meets us in the epistles isn’t a man creating a new religion, or even giving a new direction to one already existing. It’s simply the Gospel of Jesus in action, the original, authentic Gospel first changing a man’s life, and thereafter molding all his thought. This ‘man in Christ,’ so far from being a perverter of the simple Gospel, is the mirror in which the true nature of that Gospel, and the quality of its influence, have been most accurately revealed.”

Others’ reaction to Paul is the polar opposite of those who want him erased. They respectfully regard him as a man who was miraculously transformed from being a Jesus-hater into a bold testifier of our Lord’s power to change hearts from stone to flesh but they’re reticent to consider him a theologian. But how could he have been anything else? For Paul, theology was a way of life.

Anderson Scott commented, “Paul isn’t a ‘theologian’ in the technical or modern sense of the word… Yet neither is he a dreamer, indifferent to history and to reason, satisfied with emotion, sentiment or ecstasy.”

Recall that Paul was a highly esteemed expert on Jewish law and traditions before his dramatic conversion near Damascus. His ability to study diligently and to reflect deeply on what he read and examined in the Scriptures caused him to excel in the Rabbinical schools. Upon encountering the risen Christ and given profound revelations of truth by Him, Paul became even more dedicated to comprehending what he’d received, spending years meditating on it first.

He wrote: “When the one who set me apart from birth and called me by His grace was pleased to reveal His Son in me so that I could preach Him among the Gentiles, I didn’t go to ask advice from any human being, nor did I go up to Jerusalem to see those who were apostles before me, but right away I departed to Arabia, and then returned to Damascus. Then after three years I went up to Jerusalem to visit Cephas…” (Galatians 1:15-18).

In other words, Paul didn’t rush into preaching. He took his time, digesting mentally and spiritually what the Holy Spirit taught him.

Stewart defended Paul brilliantly, writing: “Direct experience is everywhere fundamental with Paul, but upon that experience his mind keeps working, working sometimes at white heat; and to this reflection on experience, which was part of his nature, we owe some of the profoundest and most fruitful ideas about God, Christ and the Spirit which have ever entered the heart of man.”

I’m not saying Paul’s writings are always easy to discipher and fully comprehend. He can be a challenging read. As Heinrich Julius Holtzmann opined: “Scarce another writer of antiquity has left his commentators with such puzzles to solve as Paul.”

Stewart admitted, “Paul can contradict himself, can land himself at times in hopeless antinomy, can leap without warning from one point of view to another totally different, can say in the same breath ‘Work out your own salvation‘ and ‘It is God which works in you‘ (Philippians 2:12-13); but through it all and beneath it all there’s a living unity and a supreme consistency – the unity, not of logic, but of downright spiritual conviction, the consistency of a life utterly and at every point filled and flooded with the redeeming love of God”

I confess I often feel I’m not smart or intuitive enough to savvy what Paul sometimes wrote. For example, in Galatians 2:20 He says, “I’ve been crucified with Christ, and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me. So the life I now live in the body, I live because of the faithfulness of the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me.“ Try as I may, I don’t think I’ve ever completely understood what he’s getting at.

I once heard the late, great John MacArthur state during a question & answer session in his church that he doesn’t know precisely what those two verses mean, either. That made me feel better, knowing that a preacher as intelligent as he was didn’t quite savvy all of it, as well. There are several passages in his other letters in which Paul leaves me scratching my head, too. I’ve concluded that Paul was sometimes striving with all his might to put into descriptive words a spiritual experience or concept that human words simply can’t convey. Yet his unwavering trust, faith, honesty and emphasis on Christ’s love always shine through.

Stewart concluded: “Systems, dogmatisms, Paulinisms, have no more unity than the shifting sands; but Paul’s Gospel, spoken and written, stands on solid rock. And that Rock is Christ.”

What Paul Never Taught

Paul wouldn’t tolerate any variations or additions to the fundamental truths he risked his life to preach. He wrote to the church in Galatia, “I’m astonished that you’re so quickly deserting the one who called you by the grace of Christ and are following a different gospel – not that there really is another gospel, but there are some who are disturbing you and wanting to distort the gospel of Christ“ (Galatians 1:6-7).

He then warned believers both then and now, “Even if we (or an angel from heaven) should preach a gospel contrary to the one we preached to you, let him be condemned to hell!“ (v.8). To make sure nobody fails to “get it”, he repeats himself in verse 9. Sadly, despite his warning, Roman Catholics and Protestants alike have repeatedly turned Paul’s teachings into a somewhat complex “plan of salvation” that Paul never taught.

While this tendency did create a systematic order of rituals and icons that appealed to the masses in general and helped Christianity survive throughout the centuries, it nevertheless “watered down” the gospel to a great extent. James S. Stewart wrote: “Its weakness was that almost inevitably it gave men the impression that here was a rigid system to be intellectually accepted, a doctrine of salvation whose acceptance was indeed prior to, and the condition of, the experience which it described.” He deemed it “a drab, colorless uniformity”, adding “it’s hard to believe the God whose Spirit is like the wind, blowing where it will, ever intended anything of the kind.”

Of course, it’s one of the scourges of human nature that we routinely complicate simple truths, something Jesus Himself never did. In fact, His most ferocious and ruthless of enemies were those who were willing to murder Him over the Mosaic law that He came to fulfill. He was a threat to their precious hierarchy that meant everything to the Pharisees and Sadducees. While it’s easy to condemn the Jewish leaders for their hard hearts, we must admit that the same thing often happened to the “Good News” Paul delivered to the Gentiles.

Stewart commented: “If less emphasis had been placed on schemes and systems, and more emphasis thrown on the actual realities of life, where forgiveness can be seen creating goodness in the forgiven, and doing it by its own inherent power and love, many damaging blunders in the interpretation of the Gospel could’ve been avoided. But as it is, endless misconceptions have been caused by isolating the various elements in the Christian experience from one another, and assigning each its place on a chronological chart.”

Again, it’s predictable that false teachings arose. Even revered theologians like Origen and Augustine were wont to ascribe to Paul the thought forms and customs of their own age and culture. We mortals just can’t help ourselves! Truth is, Paul has repeatedly proven to be “too big for his interpreters.”

Stewart and other scholars have stated that Paul thought in pictures. He taught not in parables but by allowing his listeners and readers to visualize what he preached. For example, “Jesus has destroyed what was against us, a certificate of indebtedness expressed in decrees opposed to us. He’s taken it away by nailing it to the cross. Disarming the rulers and authorities, He’s made a public disgrace of them, triumphing over them by the cross“ (Colossians 2:14-15).

Get the picture?

Stewart wrote: “In the days when God let His servant Paul loose upon the earth, with a heart aflame for Christ, the forces which carried the new adventure forward on its amazing career weren’t precision of doctrine, not skill of definition, but an open vision, a ringing conviction, and a great love. Often when men have succeeded in defining Paul’s doctrine most closely, they’ve lost Paul’s Christ most completely.”

Another and no less damaging trait is our frustrating habit of isolating Paul’s verses, sentences, thoughts and concepts from their immediate and critical context. This destructive habit has not only instigated widespread confusion about understanding the miracle of grace but has splintered countless congregations into warring denominations that want nothing to do with one another. What a tragedy!

R.C. Sproul wrote: “This approach to the Scriptures sees the individual books and individual passages as ‘atom bits of teaching’. For example, a scholar may say he’ll interpret Paul’s teaching of justification as set forth in Ephesians without any consideration of the doctrine in Galatians or Romans. Each passage is treated as an atom of insight, and whether that atom coheres with teaching found elsewhere in the author’s writing or in the whole of Scripture is irrelevant. The Reformation rule – that the Bible is its own interpreter and that we’re not to set one portion of Scripture against another – is thrown to the winds in this approach.”

Stewart opined: “More serious still is the fact that, through a failure to preserve a right emphasis and accent, the great thought of predestination, which to Paul stood for God’s sovereign freedom and will to save, has come to be entangled with ideas of reprobation and damnation which can only be described as repulsive and immoral. If Paulinism has had not a few disquieting results, let us remember that Paul himself was not to blame.”

So how are we to interpret Paul correctly? By developing a deep spiritual empathy/kinship with Paul’s personal experiences with Christ. Until we conclude, as did he, that our achievements are but filthy rags in the eyes of God and humbly acknowledge that only Jesus’ atonement can cover our sins will any church or individual believer gain wisdom from Paul’s teachings.

Stewart wrote: “The first requisite is spiritual sympathy of experience. That’s why Luther stands out as a supreme interpreter of Paul: the men were blood-brothers in Christ. And that’s why, at every juncture in history where Christ’s church has been carried on some wave of revival back to reality and self-consecration, thousands of men and women have rediscovered Paul, and have thrilled again to the music of his message.”

Paul, not Paulinism

James S. Stewart was a superb 20th century Scottish theologian whose writings still influence many preachers and laymen like me. His book, The Vital Elements of St. Paul’s Religion, is a masterpiece and I’ll be quoting from that excellent tome heavily in the weeks to come. Paul wrote at least a quarter of the New Testament so to say he and his Holy Spirit-inspired work are worth delving into is an understatement. I’ll do my best.

Paul, above all else, was dedicated to preaching the authentic Gospel of Jesus and emphasizing the spiritual love the Lord commands every Christian to share with everyone indiscriminately. In fact, he went out of his way to make sure love saturated his teachings: “If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but I don’t have love, I’m a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophecy, know all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith so that I can remove mountains, but don’t have love, I’m nothing. If I give away everything I own, and if I give over my body in order to boast, but don’t have love, I receive no benefit“ (1 Corinthians 13:1-3).

Sadly, many scholars have turned Paul into the very type of man he never wanted to be known for being. Stewart wrote: “We’ve had Paul the ecstatic visionary, Paul the speculative theologian, Paul the organizer and ecclesiastic, Paul the humanitarian moralist, and Paul the ascetic. Of these portraits which have appeared at different times in the course of Pauline study, by far the most unfortunate in its results has been the second – Paul the dogmatist, the doctrinaire thinker, the creator of a philosophy of religion, the constructor of a system. This is history’s greatest injustice to its greatest saint. It’s the blunder which has ruined Paul for thousands.”

Stuart added: “Sometimes a man’s worst enemy is himself; unconsciously he damages his own influence. But Paul’s worst enemy down the centuries hasn’t been Paul. It’s been Paulinism. So the vital religion of Paul has to be recaptured in our day. The great thing is that that vital religion is still there for anyone who cares to seek.”

What’s the “vital religion of Paul”? There are three main aspects to consider, the first being the core focal points of what he taught. The foremost of which are God’s righteousness, Jesus’s sacrificial death on the cross, His glorious resurrection, and the blessed gift of the Holy Spirit who dwells in the heart of every believer. However, fully dissecting or describing any of those things is impossible. We Christians can only humble ourselves before the profound mysteries they contain. As Paul wrote: “At the name of Jesus every knee will bow“ (Philippians 2:10).

Paul never presented himself as a conceited know-it-all. He was well aware of his all-too-human limitations. He exclaimed, “Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are His judgments and how fathomless His ways!“ (Romans 11:33).

The second aspect is acknowledging his epistles were intended to address particular misconceptions that had arisen in the early church. We must always bear in mind that Paul didn’t intend his letters to be theological treatises, designed to set forth the whole of the Christian faith. The difficulties he had to wrestle with weren’t the kind that could be solved by penning lengthy, elaborate essays about the doctrine of salvation. He had to deal directly with Satan’s ongoing attempts to mislead, discourage and confuse God’s adopted children.

Stewart wrote: “Christianity, on the mission fields where Paul’s work was done, meant a new quality of life, a life in Christ, God-given, supernatural, and victorious. The first century mission churches in Asia and Europe made headway precisely because they confronted the world with a way of life, and not a speculative system. The situation Paul was addressing demanded great simplicity. And that’s what the apostle offered – the simplicity of Christ, the life in Christ.”

Aspect #3 is that Paul had a realistic view of his purpose. He knew he was commissioned to present the “Good News” to all people, many of whom were illiterate. Thus, it would’ve been foolhardy for Paul to confront the masses with a dogma-saturated system, and thereby burden the uneducated with detailed sections regarding anthropology, original sin or philosophical studies on salvation. He knew his audience.

Stewart commented, “Paul wasn’t aware when he wrote that his writings were to become Holy Scripture. He wasn’t aware that future generations would pore over these letters and seek to fit together every thought they contained. Paul had no great love for systems and very little faith in the speculations which produce them. The wisdom of this world was such a poor thing, and mere intellect so bankrupt, and the best possible formations of doctrine so pitifully short of the mark when they tried to measure Christ!”

As Paul confessed to the church in Corinth, “When I came to you, brothers and sisters, I didn’t come with superior eloquence or wisdom as I proclaimed the testimony of God. For I decided to be concerned about nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and Him crucified“ (1 Corinthians 2:1-2).

Stewart wrote: “That goes to the root of the matter. The man knew himself charged to bear Christ, to herald Christ, not to rationalize Christ. Indeed, nothing else was possible, for the fundamental fact about the Christ of Paul’s experience was that He was alive. Historical data and reminiscences you can rationalize; a living Lord you can only proclaim. This was the apostle’s calling. This was his sole vocation and concern. This it was for which he’d been born. He came to bring, not a system, but the living Christ.”

The writings of Paul eventually instigated the Reformed Theology movement. Verses like: “We hold that one is justified by faith apart from works of the law“ (Romans 3:28) and “For by grace you have been saved through faith“ (Ephesians 2:8) changed not only Christianity but the whole world.