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Paul​ ​is​ ​utterly​ ​unique.​ ​He stands at the crossroads of the good news emerging from the Jewish world and spreading across the Gentile world.​ Our first principle for traveling with and learning from this complex and remarkable apostle is that he must always be thought of as a Jew both before and after his Damascus Road experience.​

The second principle is this:

We must grasp the implications of his Damascus Road encounter with the risen Lord.

My guess is that if we traveled in the company of Paul from Jewish into Gentile regions and back again, we would hear him tell his story over and over. And that in a variety of creative ways, like we have been looking at in Philippians 3.

The events on that dusty road to Damascus changed both his way of thinking and his way forward.​ He did not forsake​,​ ​deny,​ ​or reject his Jewish ethnicity or ​religion in order to become ​a Christian.​ ​​He had a revelation that totally transformed him from the inside out, and from that point on, Paul followed Jesus as a Jewish man whose faith had been completed—or, as I like to say, filled full.

I do not want to get ahead of myself, but we could say it this way. After his encounter, Paul had one fundamental, irreconcilable issue with the Judaism(s) espoused by the Jewish leaders in the first century.​ It was not the Torah. While in Jerusalem, he went to the Temple and took part in sacrifices.​ ​He​ ​even engaged​ ​in​ ​the​ ​circumcision​ ​of​ ​Timothy for evangelistic reasons.

Paul’s problem was that his Jewish brethren rejected their own Messiah (Christ), Jesus of Nazareth.

I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart. For I could wish that I myself were accursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my brothers, my kinsmen according to the flesh (Romans 9:2-3).

And again:

They are Israelites, and to them belong the adoption, the glory, the covenants, the giving of the law, the worship, and the promises. To them belong the patriarchs, and from their race, according to the flesh, is the Christ, who is God over all, blessed forever. Amen (Romans 9:4-5).

Think of it this way. Ancient Israel was surrounded by nations engulfed in paganism and polytheism.​ The world was an intensely dark place.​ ​Sexual​ ​immorality​ and violence were the norm at​ ​levels​ ​we​ ​cannot​ ​comprehend.​

Into this​ ​darkness​ ​shown​ ​a​ ​great​ ​light.​ That​ ​light​ ​was​ ​the​ ​ethical​ ​monotheism​ ​of​ ​the​ ​God of​ ​Israel​ — ​the​ ​moral​ ​teachings​ ​of​ ​the​ ​Jewish​ ​people.​ ​​The standards of righteousness that Judaism presented literally formed the very foundation of Western society.​ The prophetic ideals of justice, mercy, and compassion were a great light that pierced and exposed every aspect of darkness.​

God’s Torah, preserved by his people, did that (Rom 3:2).

His Word was not evil, heaven forbid! It was a great light to the Gentiles. But it was not the source itself any more than sunlight is the sun.

When Paul encountered the risen Son of God,​ ​the​ ​light​ ​was​ ​so​ ​intense​ ​​it literally​ ​blinded​ ​him​ ​for​ ​days.​ When his eyes were finally opened and he was filled with the Holy Spirit (Acts 9:17),​ ​he​ ​saw things differently.​ ​His​ ​were​ ​still​ ​Jewish​ ​eyes,​ ​but​ now with ​the light of Jesus shining through them: But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ [Messiah]. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord (Phil 3:7).

He wants that to be the experience of all those he ministers to, Jew and Gentile. So much so he can say, even from prison: I would to God that not only you but also all who hear me this day might become such as I am—except for these chains. (Acts 26:29).

Before the Damascus road, Paul was not someone intensely dissatisfied with his religion, nor was he striving to find favor with God.​ He did not have an ecstatic religious experience that led him to reject his former faith and espouse a new one.​ That is often our story. It most certainly was Martin Luther’s story.

The truth is much more straightforward. ​Paul had a revelation of Jesus as the Christ.​

What happened to him​ on the road and in his subsequent Spirit-filling encounter with the disciple Ananias in Damascus was not so much a conversion as we would use the terminology. It was a conformation and a commission. Simply put, Paul became a follower of Jesus.

I heard a voice saying to me in the Hebrew language, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me? It is hard for you to kick against the goads.” And I said, “Who are you, Lord?” And the Lord said, “I am Jesus whom you are persecuting. But rise and stand upon your feet, for I have appeared to you for this purpose, to appoint you as a servant and witness to the things in which you have seen me and to those in which I will appear to you […] (Acts 26:14-16).

CONFORMATION: “You will be my servant.”

Paul did not convert to a new religion. Rather, he​ ​was radically​ ​conformed​ ​to​ ​the​ ​image​ ​of​ ​Jesus​ ​in​ ​a way​ ​that​ ​was​ ​so​ ​surpassingly ​transcendent​ ​and​ ​glorious​ ​that​ ​everything​ ​before​ ​paled​ ​in comparison.​ He came into the fullness of that which he had always been a part, but from this time forth, he would answer to Jesus himself.

This puts me in mind of another story about disciples on another road, this time to Emmaus. The risen Jesus said, “O foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and enter into his glory?” And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself (Luke 24:25-27).

That seems to have been Paul’s experience as well. Sharing his witness again in Galatians, he adds these insightful details:

But when he who had set me apart before I was born, and who called me by his grace, was pleased to reveal his Son to me, in order that I might preach him among the Gentiles, I did not immediately consult with anyone; nor did I go up to Jerusalem to those who were apostles before me, but I went away into Arabia, and returned again to Damascus. Then after three years I went up to Jerusalem to visit Cephas (3:15-18).

Paul, brilliant, educated, and steeped in the Hebrew Scriptures, would spend the rest of his life working out what the LORD his God had worked into him. He would do the same for the Gentiles to whom he was called. And that, dear friends, is exactly what we see in his collected letters.

COMMISSION/CALLING: “You will be my witness.”

Luke, quoting Paul, continues in Acts 26: and to those in which I will appear to you, delivering you from your people and from the Gentiles—to whom I am sending you to open their eyes, so that they may turn from darkness to light and from the power of Satan to God, that they may receive forgiveness of sins and a place among those who are sanctified by faith in me (Acts 26:16-18).

My final thought on this second essential principle for traveling with Paul is this. Not only was his a radical conformation, but it was also a distinctive commission. “Like one born out of time,” or “the least of the apostles,” as he was fond of describing himself: He is a chosen instrument of mine to carry my name before the Gentiles and kings and the children of Israel (Acts 9:15).

The axis of Paul’s life becomes Jesus, the risen Lord.​ ​The activity of his life becomes the Messiah’s mission: bringing the Gospel to the Gentiles and forming them into his kingdom people, along with Jewish believers, as an acceptable sacrifice to God through the Holy Spirit.​ Once you comprehend Paul’s Hebraic worldview, it makes sense that he saw his commission in keeping with God’s promise to Abraham: In you all the families of the earth shall be blessed (Gen 12:1).

This is the essence of his self-understanding. That revelation led to the responsibility of a calling. One that would cause him all sorts of grief: For I will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name (Acts 9:16).

Yet for the joy set before him, he ran his race with intentionality, determination, and vigor. He wants the same for every disciple of Jesus. The amazing application of Paul’s argument in Philippians 3 is his hope that we will all share in this high calling: But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. Let those of us who are mature think this way (Phil 3:13-15).

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