: : :introduction: : : . St. Paul The Spirit's Sword Growing up Catholic, I looked at the Bible a lot. Note the verb in that previous sentence-I looked at the Bible a lot. It was the picture Bible we had in my house growing up, and the pictures got a lot of looks-the words? Not so much. It sat on the third shelf of the bookcase in our family room. Rarely did it come down off that shelf for prayer as, again, we were Catholic and (unfortunately) weren't in the habit of reading the Bible with any regularity. It did come off the shelf for entertainment, however, because the pictures thoroughly intrigued me. A Picture Is Worth More Than a Thousand Words There was one picture in particular that always held my attention, even at only seven or eight years old, called The Martyrdom of St. Paul. A quick examination of our family Bible would have shown this to be the picture that got the most looks. The spine was so bent in that particular place that when one opened the hard cover, the book almost naturally flipped open right to this picture. In it, St. Paul was kneeling as his Roman executioner wielded a sword in the air, just moments before Paul would lose his head. He was being martyred as the final witness to a life spent serving God. The picture also depicted the presence of an angel, unseen by the Roman soldier but offering visible confirmation of God's presence during a moment of evil's suspected triumph. The artwork was incredible: The colors were vibrant, the figures passionate. And the truth of it was impossible to ignore. Truth takes hold of one's soul and subconsciousness in ways one might not realize in the moment but might reflect on for years to come. Little did I know that, to this day, when I would hear the word martyrdom, this picture would instinctively be the first image that rushed to my mind. At the time, I had no concept of who St. Paul was or what he did. I certainly had no idea why he was being beheaded. I was just a normal little kid, and swords (and later, light sabers) caught my attention. The picture was engaging to my innocent eyes; it drew me in. Years later, I discovered the power of the words contained on the pages surrounding the pictures. Hopefully you have, too. Martyrdom was the end of Paul's story.his earthly story, at least. But the martyrdom of St. Paul might not mean much to you if you haven't really followed the beginning and middle of his story. By following Paul's story, I don't mean reading or hearing it. I mean experiencing it, walking it, discerning it, and praying it. Take a moment now, and ask the Holy Spirit to open your eyes and ears to something new as you read this book. Ask St. Paul to pray with you and for you, that you might gain new insights into Jesus Christ by focusing time and energy on the life and writings of this great saint. Now, let's take a look at how this seemingly random man ended up martyred-how this obscure tent-maker from Tarsus could change the world in such a dramatic way that every comer of it would hear his words thousands of years later. Let's head back to the beginning of his story. Saul (was) still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord.as he journeyed and approached Damascus, and suddenly a light from heaven flashed about him. And he fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, "Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?" And he said, "Who are you, Lord?" And he said, "I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting; but rise and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do." The men who were traveling with him stood speechless, hearing the voice but seeing no one. Saul arose from the ground; and when his eyes were opened, he could see nothing; to they led him by the hand and brought him to Damascus. And for three days he was without sight, and neither ate nor drank. (Acts 9:1-9) Little Did He Know How cold and hard the earth must have felt as his body was thrust down upon it! The ground itself may have been the only thing colder or harder than Saul's heart that day. How brilliant the light must have been and how blinding the vision! That temporary blindness would later offer him true vision for the rest of his earthly days. The road was little more than a path of dirt covered with small jagged rocks and pebbles. It was far from a desirable place to lay your head, much less land on. How humbling it must have been for Saul, powerful Saul, to quickly go from being the hunter to the hunted. How ironic that he landed upon the earth when God humbled him, for both ground and humility share the same root word in Latin (a language Saul certainly knew). The dirt was caked upon his face. His vision blurred, but his hearing must have sharpened. Saul's companions stood speechless, but Christ did not. In a flash, everything Saul knew, everything he had learned during his years of Rabbinical study, was rendered almost irrelevant. In one instant, he went from being certain of his righteousness and superiority among God's children to staring God in the face and going blind. The revelation was not only one of God's identity or Saul's shortsightedness; Saul's self-righteousness was revealed. "Why are you persecuting me?" asked his new lord, the Lord, Jesus Christ. How painful these words must have been to Saul. How many bloodstained memories must have rushed back to Saul's subconsciousness. No doubt in his blindness he recalled the faces of those he had hunted down and persecuted-faces like Stephen's. How gruesome the images, how deep the pain, and how humbling the guilt overflowing in his soul as he realized he had helped kill his own brothers and sisters, sons and daughters of his God and Father. Those he had helped condemn, those he had called "apostates" he would now call brothers. Can you relate to Saul at all? Answer the following questions, and record your answers in a journal for further reflection. Do you look at your sins as not only greiving (or hurting) other people (your brothers and sisters), but actions that grieve Jesus himself? Think of an example. How would you describe your experience or vision of God? Is it as intimate or personal as Saul's? Do you feel like God calls you by name, and even knows your name? Have you been feeling that God doesn't notice you or seem to care about what you do? If so, why? Is your vision of God one of an absent Father who is far from active in your life, or is it one of a loving, ever-present Father? If some of these questions strike a nerve in you (like they do in me), then perhaps your vision of God needs to change-just like Saul's did. The God Saul encountered that day was different than the God he had come to know on his own. When Saul was humbled, he was startled; when he was blinded, he began to truly see. That's what grace does-it gives us the eyes of faith. Saul was about to undergo the greatest change in his life. After encountering Christ face-to-face in such a profound way, everything about Saul would change-starting with his name. When the Irresistible Force Encounters a Moveable Object Many of us tend to think more highly of ourselves than we ought. Atheism is a perfect example of man, wounded and self-consumed, having a high opinion of himself. Atheists easily point to facts that show how God "cannot" be real, and they put far too much emphasis on their own logic and intelligence. In cases such as these, it's pride, not logic, that is the problem. There will always be a certain degree of faith necessary, but a hardened heart and a stubborn soul are too consumed with pride to embrace anything with the arms of faith. Saul was a prideful man. Saul is like me.and Saul might be like you, too. Even though we might picture ourselves as strong and immoveable, the truth is that when we encounter the Irresistible Force (the love) of God, something has to give-something has to change. God gives his love so freely that we are the ones who change: Love transforms everything. Confronted with the love, mercy, and power of God, we are reduced to rubble. So there Saul sat, blinded and humbled. Everything he knew up until that trip to Damascus had changed, but it wasn't just Saul's world that was changing. God was doing something greater, something internal, something far less obvious and far more profound: God was changing Saul's very fiber and makeup. God was recreating Saul, to a certain extent; he was making Saul new, and Saul signified that by taking a new name. Saul became known as Paul. Now called Paul, the future saint's understanding of his...
