From the first moment the softly thudding echo of his footsteps resounded in those esteemed halls of learning, Saul had been all in. Avid learner. Devout follower. Zealous enforcer. So deep was his devotion, he welcomed the orders to confront and arrest those who failed to follow the religious edicts of the high priests and elders. Gladly he went from house to house indiscriminately arresting men and women who pledged allegiance to Jesus Christ alone. Having exhausted his orders for nearby areas, he requested papers giving him permission to do the same in Damascus. Seek out those following the teachings of men like Peter and Stephen, drag them back to Jerusalem, and stand by while they were appropriately punished. (Acts 22:2-3; 8:3; 9:1-2)
He’d been there the day Stephen preached that fateful sermon. Listening. Watching. Biding his time. Inwardly he’d seethed at the words. Eagerly he’d waited for Stephen to get his due. Stoically he’d watched while stone after stone landed with ominous thuds on the unprotected head of the preacher. There was no sympathy, no remorse. The punishment was well deserved. As he strode through town after town strictly enforcing a religious law that fit the teachings he’d heard since he was a child, he was all in. Every fiber of his being believed he was enacting right and defeating wrong. It seemed nothing could change his mind. (Acts 7)
Leaving for Damascus in a cloud of snarling threats of torturous punishment and terrifying death toward the followers of the man called Christ, not one onlooker expected him to change. Ever. He’d return the same as he left, if not even more zealous. He was Saul, the devoted, driven, dangerous man who sent Christians scattering throughout Judea and Samaria, who ravaged churches and brought grown men to their knees. His horrifying reputation preceded him. No matter how evil, how ugly, how brutal he was. Hope that Saul would change seemed silly. He would never defect from his devotion. Saul would always be the scariest man in the room. Because he was all in. (Acts 9:1-4)
It must have been quite a surprise for his entourage when a brilliant light sizzled out of the heavens, bringing their fearless leader to his knees in the middle of the road to Damascus. They’d thought him invincible, untouchable. Seeing him huddled there, blind and helpless in the middle of the road carrying on a conversation with a faceless voice, forced them to re-evaluate their opinion of Saul. They had never seen him like this. Dependent. Needy. Wanting. In pity, they helped him to his feet, took his hand, and led him into the city to a house on Straight street. (Acts 9:1-4)
Strangely, we never hear of those men again. Perhaps they straggled home under cover of darkness, embarrassed that their much-hailed mission had been a bust. Maybe they raced home with tales of Saul’s demise, stories of a blinding light from heaven and a voice they didn’t recognize. Perhaps they returned, each jockeying to fill the now empty shoes in the religious realm of their world. Whatever the case, it would seem their sudden departure from the story indicates a lack of devotion to Saul and his mission. A lack of dedication to their cause. An obvious inability to remain all in when things became unsettled.
Ananias hovered there himself. His heart longed to be all in, but his flesh knew the odds. And God was calling him to follow his heart. Normally he wouldn’t hesitate, wouldn’t question, wouldn’t struggle with the command. This wasn’t a normal command. This was a command to walk into likely entrapment and possible death. He knew Saul of Tarsus–at least by reputation. Anxiety compelled him to remind God how evil the man was, how much damage he had done to the body of Christ, how dangerous it was to boldly walk in and reveal his religious standing. It didn’t change the command. Nor did his anxiety, his humanity, or his alleged inferiority change his response. He went to do God’s bidding. Because no matter what it cost him, Ananias was all in. (Acts 9:10-18)
Whatever Ananias had been expecting to see, it wasn’t the sight that greeted him. The man once labeled as evil and terrifying sat motionless, tired and unshaven, staring blankly at the wall. No threats. No anger. No danger. Slowly approaching, Ananias reached out to tentatively place his hands on Saul, speaking the words that would restore his sight, reconcile his soul, and restructure his devotion. And Saul, the once zealous persecutor of the church, was all in. (Acts 9:17-22)
It had taken three days to sort through the wreckage of destroyed beliefs he’d thought infallible and perceived truths he’d believed inerrant. Three days of darkness. Three days of fasting. Three days of introspection and questioning. Three days of silent pondering that question for which he’d originally had no answer. Why was he persecuting the people of God? What had started the vendetta? Was it a power trip? Was it the fame his thuggery had gained him? Or was it simply something to believe in? More importantly, in all the good he’d thought he was doing, had he missed the mark? Had he missed the truth of the risen Messiah? Had he been all in on single-handedly persecuting Jesus Christ, the Savior of the world? (Acts 9:4-9)
With the answers to those questions came the turning of the tables. The hunter became the hunted. The persecutor became the persecuted. The hater of the church became its biggest champion. No matter the hardship. Regardless of the abuse. In spite of the arrests and affronts.
He would spend the rest of his life on the receiving end of ugly capers he’d been known to pull himself. It didn’t matter. Because Saul (who later chose to be called Paul) was all in. (Acts 13:9)
Five times Paul would receive 39 lashes at the hands of the Jews. Three times he would be beaten with rods. He’d suffer stoning, shipwreck, being lost at sea. Danger would come at him from every side–rivers, seas, wildernesses, cities, people he should have been able to trust, people he had no inclination to trust, people who claimed to tightly hold like faith. He would suffer toil and hardship, insomnia, starvation, and exposure to the elements. But Paul would never, no matter his circumstances, alter the message he’d been called to preach. His words would never soft-sell sin. His message would never short-sell God. There would be nothing half-hearted about his labors. Indelibly etched in his mind read the words of the prophet Jeremiah learned long ago, “Cursed is the one who half-heartedly, lazily does the work of God…”. Being thus informed, the Apostle Paul made his choice. He was all in. (Jeremiah 48:10; II Corinthians 11:24-28)
How about you? Having the same information from Jeremiah, where do you stand when it comes to Jesus Christ? Are you all in? Or are you wavering, unsteady, unstable? Are you having trouble deciding where to place your allegiance? Is it harder to choose when you are faced with making a stand that is socially unpopular, unpalatable, unpleasant? Are you tongue-tied, hesitant, reticent to stand up for the unarguable truths of Jesus Christ in today’s society? Caught as we are in the crossfire of good and evil, are you firmly rooted in the infallible word of God? Do you truly believe its inerrant truths? Tell me. If you had to choose today, right now, are you all in? (I Corinthians 10:12; James 1:8; Luke 9:57-62; Mark 10:30; Proverbs 30:5; I Peter 1:20-21; Isaiah 40:8)
In a message to his followers, Jesus said if they wanted to truly be His disciples they had to choose, every day, to take up the cross of scorn, scoffing, suffering, and follow Him alone. Days when they were tired. Days when they didn’t feel like it. Days when it seemed the whole world was against them. Days when the world really was against them. No matter what, come hell or high water, persecution, plague, or famine, they had to choose to follow Jesus. Only Jesus. They had to be all in. (Luke 9:23; Luke 14:27; Matthew 7:21-23; Matthew 10:38; Mark 12:30)
Centuries have passed since Jesus preached that message. Nothing is the same as it was then. Traditions have changed. People have changed. Society has changed. But Jesus doesn’t change. Neither do His words. They still mean the same thing they did then. They still offer the same choice. They still beg the same question. A question only you can answer. Are you all in? (Luke 21:33; Psalm 119:152; Hebrews 13:8; Hebrews 1:12)
Thanks for the great article!