May 4, 2025

Acts 9:1-6; John 21:1-19

He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?”

Saul was returning from obtaining letters from the high priest in Jerusalem permitting him to extend the persecution of Jesus’ followers. But along the way back to Damascus, he was struck down by a sudden overwhelming light. He then heard a voice asking why Saul was persecuting him, him meaning Jesus and his people.

He asked, “Who are you, Lord?” The reply came, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. But get up and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do.”

This will be the moment of Saul’s conversion, Saul who is far better known by another name, Paul. Paul is likely his Roman name, for Paul was also a Roman citizen.

Paul had been an enthusiastic persecutor of the followers of Jesus. An educated man, Paul was also a Pharisee, a tradition within Second Temple Judaism that sought to sanctify many aspects of everyday life. In essence, the Pharisees believed that everyone should be like a priest and therefore they should follow the many daily restrictions and observances of priestly life.

Over the course of many centuries, there had been an effort to strive toward and to maintain purity and, as needed, to regain purity. Why do this? After the destruction of the First Temple, it may have been a desire to maintain cultural cohesion so that the people of Israel would not be lost to assimilation. That would continue during the conquest of Alexander the Great and later the Roman Empire.

How else could a minority religious group maintain itself? That does not mean that certain ideas would not be borrowed and incorporated into religious practice. The Pharisees for example came to accept the notion of an afterlife which was patterned after Greek religious views. Ancient Israelites did not write about the afterlife.

But aren’t there references to such in the Hebrew scriptures?

For example, in our psalm this morning [Psalm 30], there are references to Sheol and the Pit. People have interpreted these are being representative of hell. But the psalms are much older that the Greek conquest and these terms can also be translated as the grave, as one might see in King James. Meaning that when you died, you simply died. Asking God not to send you down to Sheol or into the Pit was a way of asking to keep on living rather than to spare someone from damnation.

One theory is that an afterlife became an appealing notion to Judean writers in exile because of all the suffering people were enduring. If there was an afterlife, with heaven and hell, those people who caused such suffering would receive their just rewards. Without an afterlife, there would be no punishment, no redress for all that had happened.

The irony being that they borrowed an idea from the Greeks to express their rage at the Greeks. And they assimilated just enough to find a way of expressing that rage in a theological manner. Later interpreters of the Bible, including modern readers in English, imagine that words like Sheol and the Pit are points of consistency across time when in fact they have been reimagined to fit into Christian theology.

Back to the Pharisees and their behavioral expectations. Jesus probably had more in common with the Pharisees than another group. the Sadducees. The Sadducees were the orthodox leaders of the time, who believed in literal interpretations of the Bible and the rituals spelled out. They also did not believe in an afterlife, which theological position is mentioned in the New Testament.

The Pharisees wanted stricter behavior, but they were less concerned about following the requirements of sacrifices. Weirdly, the Sadducees pushed for sacrifices which could absolve you of sin, which made sinning less worrisome. The Pharisees instead wanted there to be less sin and more purity leading to fewer sacrifices. Jesus was less pushy about behavior and was on occasion called out by the Pharisees for doing certain things like healing or performing other work on the Sabbath.

After his conversion experience, Paul would advocate against forcing converts to follow strict purity requirements under then Jewish law. For example, he convinced the leaders of Jesus’ followers to eliminate the requirement for circumcision, which was and is a fundamental obligation under the covenant of Abraham.

We might speculate as to why he decided to make this change, but I think one obvious reason was that it was a great barrier for many future converts. Circumcision was not a minor undertaking, particularly in a time without painkillers or antibiotics. And it was never intended to be an easy step. It was an intentionally high hurdle showing someone’s commitment to living in a dedicated religious community.

The Romans generally respected the ancient traditions of Judaism, but they found their ways to be strange. By the way, generally respected does not always mean actually respected. For example, you might remember from the Easter readings that the gospels portray the local governor Pontius Pilate in mostly positive terms, offering mercy to Jesus and repeatedly trying to free him.

That was probably not the case. I do not mean to contradict the Bible, but Pontius Pilate was a historic figure and was remembered in several historical accounts as someone who frequently antagonized the people of Judea. For example, he brought Roman standards into the city depicting the emperor. As there was an imperial cult worshipping the emperors, this was likely interpreted as displaying idols or graven images in the holy city. Pilate is said to have used money from the Temple to rebuild the city’s aqueduct, another violation of religious autonomy.

Pilate also happened to be a long-serving governor, which was uncommon in Judea because it was a fractious area prone to rebellion. Pilate’s tenure as governor also overlapped with that of the High Priest, Caiaphas. Pilate had the absolute power to designate the high priest, so it seems likely that he had a good working relationship with Caiaphas. Otherwise, he could have simply transferred, or frankly sold, the title to someone else. Caiaphas is mentioned by name in the gospels as being directly involved in the decision to execute Jesus. And he would eventually lose the position of high priest when Pilate was relieved of his command as governor. It therefore seems that Pilate and Caiaphas were in cahoots in both the historical and Biblical accounts.

Caiaphas was from another religious sect within Judaism at that time, the Sadducees who I described earlier. Again, the Sadducees were literalists who sought to follow the ritual requirements in the Bible. These gave the priests lots of power to control the lives of the people and, not coincidentally, garnered a lot of financial support from tithing and other donations.

In comparison, the Pharisees were less strict as to rituals and more liberal in their Biblical interpretations, though the word liberal should not be given its modern usage. This was definitely not an age of free love and self-discovery.

Pilate was not remembered as merciful by historians. And this is consistent with the mindset of Rome. The Romans did not like trouble and were quick to punish. Caiaphas probably did not like competition or anyone stirring up trouble for his Roman benefactors. He likely supported Pontius Pilate and may have even quietly allowed Pilate to use temple funds to fix the aqueduct.

So, what does this history lesson have to do with Paul? What does it have to do with his choice to move away from the sacrifices of the Sadducees and the teachings of the Pharisees and their strict behavioral rules? Why might he have become far more permissive in his attitudes towards following the requirements of Jewish law?

Again, I can only guess and make suppositions. But as we heard in this account from Paul’s life, he was a religious convert. And converts generally become very ardent adherents to their new ways of life. Paul went from being a persecutor to a follower to a missionary.

And he had the unusual opportunity to rewrite all the religious rules as an entry level follower. Not surprisingly, it would be far easier to find more converts if those various high hurdles and strict behavioral codes were removed or at least soften up a bit. Paul would convince Peter and James, the leaders in Jerusalem, to reduce the requirements for those seeking to join.

Which is interesting. It is interesting because it does not seem that Jesus intended for this to happen. Depending upon which section of the Gospels you turn to, Jesus was trying to make the rules even more stringent.

Jesus taught that he had not been sent to abolish the law but to fulfill it. For example, he said that you could commit adultery in your heart, not simply by your actions. This meant having impure thoughts made you an adulterer, which basically makes every teenager into an adulterer.

It is important to remember that Paul was working and teaching and writing before any of the Gospels were written down. Paul never met Jesus, but he met several of the disciples, like Peter. So, the Gospels that we read from every Sunday had not yet been written down, while Paul was sending out his many letters to those growing the early church. He was working with the disciples who were trying to create a new community and Paul was particularly capable and successful in his efforts. It makes sense that you would listen to the guy who was making progress.

And yet, for whatever reasons, Paul’s teachings do not always or even often agree with the teachings of Jesus. Paul rarely talked about what Jesus taught and instead sought to explain what Jesus meant. Jesus was a redemptive figure, the one who came to save us from sin. To Paul, the crucifixion and the resurrection were the most important aspects of Jesus’ life—the meaning of salvation and the meaning of his sacrifice.

The second coming of Jesus was similarly crucial to Paul. Jesus was coming back and, according to Paul, he was coming back within Paul’s lifetime. That prediction did not come to pass, and Paul’s later writings reflect a shift in tone to account for that unfulfilled expectation. He does not say that he was wrong, but he does plan for a longer, less definite timeline before Jesus’ return.

There are no obvious dates for Paul’s letters, at least as reflected in the texts. But scholars have roughed in a timeline. The first letter is probably his First Letter to the Thessalonians. His letter to the Romans was likely the last and, in many ways, it is his most developed thinking as he anticipated his eventual execution by the Romans.

Some of the letters attributed to Paul that seem later in time are likely from his followers. They were writing under his name to claim his aura of authority, and this would not have been considered deceptive. However, there are inconsistencies. Inconsistencies in message that do not resonate with Paul’s core teachings.

How then can we read the Bible with the hope of listening to the teachings of Paul and Jesus? How do we also follow the teachings of Abraham and Moses, Elijah and Isaiah? How do we follow all the rules in the Bible, all the lessons, all the statutes and commandments? And, is there a unifying theory or central through line linking everything into one cohesive whole?

There are religious traditions that treat the Bible as one consistent story from begin to end. A story that you can just read along, one that makes perfect sense if you just follow the guidance of certain interpreters and religious writers. Others layer on theories that fill in the gaps, theologies and traditions that try to reconcile things that might not clearly flow together at first or even second glance

As someone who has spent years reading the Bible and trying to unravel its messages and mysteries, I can only offer my opinion. The Bible is not one story. It is an interlocking series of stories that jump around across many centuries of shifting history and evolving ways of thinking. There are layers to these stories. There have even been changes made by translators and interpreters to the very words of the Bible. Changes that try to square what they believed by inserting those ideas into what was said. In particular, ideas that are foreign to the Bible as written in Hebrew and Greek somehow appear on the page when translated into English.

One famous example, the 23^rd Psalm.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul…

The idea of a soul did not exist in Ancient Israelite thinking. The word used here is nephesh, meaning life or breath. Again, Ancient Israelites had no concept of an afterlife, so they focused on life. And the breath was the literal breath in your lungs, placed there by God as when God breathed life into Adam. And yet we might hear the word soul in English, which skips over thousands of years of evolving ideas about the meaning of life and life after this life.

And, honestly, this should not be surprising to anyone. Ideas change. Religions change. New philosophical and theological notions are developed and then tried on for size. Some you reject and some you incorporate. This is true for people in their extended religious journeys now, so why would we deny ancient people the same right to religious curiosity and innovation? Things change and they might even change from one letter of Paul to another.

We should not try to reconcile one person’s thinking across their lifetime, let alone the many interlocking stories of the Bible spanning around 3,000 years. It would be like trying to attribute something William the Conqueror wrote in 1066 with what the current King Charles is thinking about now. In the same way, as we compare the teachings of Paul from the earliest to the latest, his ideas changed.

Again, that should be no surprise. Do you think the same way you did when you were in high school? When you were first starting out on your own as compared with right now? Things change. People change. We might become wiser with age. Or we might become more cynical, more circumspect. We might care less about what others think and more about what truly matters to us. And what matters could change a thousand times. What does 20-year-old me want versus 50-year-old me?

I frequently invoke the teachings of Jesus on Sunday mornings and specifically the Two-fold Commandment to love God and to love one’s neighbors. Few Sundays pass by without me invoking this dual idea of love. And I do so quite intentionally. I see these two simple but profound teachings as the true compass for moral behavior. In my estimation, these two ideas will never betray us on our journey through life.

That does not mean we won’t make mistakes. And it certainly does not mean we won’t face obstacles or disappointments. Other people will not be so dependably loving, and we might not be so dependably loving. And yet, the idea of love, for all of its simplicity, translates into every aspect of our lives.

Is it any wonder that the idea of love is the cornerstone of most world religions? Sometimes it is called compassion, sometimes it is called loving kindness. Sometimes it is in a variation of the Golden Rule. When you compare the commandment to love with other religious expectations, however, it may seem less specific, less easily followed. If I tell you not to work on the Sabbath it is straightforward. If I tell you not to do this or that, I can keep a running checklist of sorts.

But if I tell you that you have to love other people, there is push back. What happens if the other person is a jerk? What happens is they are cruel or selfish? What if they do terrible or even evil things? Do I get to not love them now?

No, you don’t. You do not get to stop loving people because you do not love what they do. That does not mean you should let them hurt you or other people. I have my own questions and concerns about how Jesus asks us to repeatedly turn the other cheek.

But for me, protecting yourself and others does not translate into not loving others. Because if it does, it can easily slip into hate. It can become an excuse to dehumanize others, to make them out to be so irredeemably different that you get to write them off from the world. And once that happens in one direction, it can easily become true in the other direction.

Jesus was trying to avoid this. He taught that you should follow the law, but he placed those laws below the commandment to love. Because depending on the moment in time, following religious rules could violate the requirement to love. Jesus showed this when he healed people on the Sabbath. Taking care of others overrides every other rule, no matter how seemingly central, because the truly central requirement is always and forever to love each other.

We are in a moment in time when it may seem difficult to love those around us. We may be less interested in loving widely and instead try to make our circle of concern smaller. And that is not surprising. But it is also a mistake.

There was an essay this weekend in the New York Times about the lessons we might draw from the life of Martin Luther King, Jr. The author, Jonathan Eig, wrote: “[King] told us that while elected officials may try to divide us by stoking resentment and rage, we shouldn’t let them. He reminded us of our essential goodness and encouraged us to trust and rely on the goodness of others. He told us not to expect immediate results.”

There are no easy or quick answers in this time of troubles. But the best way is to embrace the goodness of ourselves and in others. However, some might object that this time everything is different. And I could give you examples of terrible moments of violence every decade since our nation was founded. We are in no worse state than we were in 1861 or 1929, 1941 or 1968. And we are certainly in no worse state when compared to Jesus during the Roman Empire.

We are always faced with selfishness and greed, anger and hatred. And we must always respond with love and compassion, care for others and loving kindness for all. Love has never been a quick or easy answer. But as followers of Jesus, it is the only answer. It is the only answer, now and forever. Amen.