Charles Ellicott Commentary Acts 9

Yet breathing out threatenings.—The “yet” implies a considerable interval since the death of Stephen, probably coinciding with the time occupied by the mission-work of Philip in the previous chapter. During this interval the persecution had probably been continuing.

The Greek participle, literally, breathing-in, is somewhat more emphatic than the English. He lived, as it were, in an atmosphere of threats and slaughter; it was the very air he breathed. Patristic writers and their followers have not unnaturally seen a half-prophetic parallelism between the language of Jacob, Benjamin shall ravin as a wolf: in the morning he shall devour the prey, and at night he shall divide the spoil (Genesis 49:27), and this description of one who gloried in being of that tribe (Philippians 3:5), and bore the name of its great hero-king.

Went unto the high priest.—It will be remembered that the high priest (whether we suppose Annas or Caiaphas to be meant) was a Sadducee, and that Saul gloried in being a Pharisee of the straitest sect (Acts 26:5). The temper of the persecutor, however, does not shrink from strange companionship, and the coalition which had been formed against our Lord (Matthew 26:3) was renewed against His followers. If, as is probable, the admission of the Samaritans to the new community had become known at Jerusalem, it would naturally tend to intensify their hatred. It would seem to them as if the accursed people were now allied with the Galileans against the Holy Place, and those who were zealous for its honour.

And asked him for letters to Damascus.—We learn from 2 Corinthians 11:32–33 that Damascus was at this time under the government of Aretas, the king of Arabia Petraea. How it came to be so, having been previously under Vitellius, the Roman president of Syria (Josephus, Antiquities 14.4.5), is not clear.

It is probable, however, that in the war which Aretas had declared against Herod Antipas (as a consequence of the Tetrarch divorcing Aretas's daughter to marry Herodias; see Notes on Matthew 14:3; Luke 3:14), he was led, after defeating the Tetrarch (Josephus, Antiquities 18.5.1), to push his victories further; and, taking advantage of the absence of Vitellius—who had hurried to Rome upon hearing of the death of Tiberius (A.D. 37)—Aretas then seized Damascus.

During this suspension of Roman control, Aretas may have wanted to appease the priestly party in Jerusalem by facilitating their actions against the sect. They would naturally have portrayed this sect as aligned with the Galileans, against whom Aretas had been waging war.

The Jewish population in Damascus was very large at this time. Josephus relates that no fewer than 10,000 were killed in a disturbance under Nero (Josephus, Wars 2.25), and the narrative of Acts (Acts 9:14) implies that there were many “disciples of the Lord” among them.

Many of these were probably refugees from Jerusalem. The local synagogues were called upon to enforce the decrees of the Sanhedrin of the Holy City against them. On the position and history of Damascus, see the Note on the next verse.

If he found any of this way.—Literally, of the way. Here we have the first occurrence of a term that seems to have been used familiarly as a synonym for the disciples of Christ (Acts 19:9; Acts 19:23; Acts 22:4; Acts 24:14; Acts 24:22).

The term may have originated in Christ's words when He claimed to be Himself the Way, as well as the Truth and the Life (John 14:6). It might also stem from His language about the strait way that leads to eternal life (Matthew 7:13). Another possible origin is the prophecy of Isaiah (Isaiah 40:3), cited by the Baptist (Matthew 3:3; Mark 1:3), about preparing the way of the Lord.

Before the general acceptance of the term “Christian” (Acts 11:26), it served as a convenient, neutral designation by which the disciples could describe themselves. Others who wished to speak respectfully, or at least neutrally, could also use it, instead of the derogatory term “Nazarenes” (Acts 24:5). The history of the term “Methodists”—those that follow a distinct “method” or “way” of life—offers a partial but interesting analogy.

Whether they were men or women.—The mention of women here is of special interest. They too were prominent enough to be objects of the persecution. It is probable that those most exposed to it would have fled from Jerusalem. Among these, we may think of those women who had been foremost in their ministry during our Lord’s life on earth (Luke 8:2) and who were with the Apostles at their first meeting after His Ascension (Acts 1:14).

Might bring them bound to Jerusalem.—The mission implied that the offence was beyond the jurisdiction of subordinate tribunals and had to be reserved for the Council. This was because it was an offence against the Holy Place and the Law, involving what would, in modern language, be called sacrilege and heresy. (See Notes on Matthew 5:22; Matthew 10:17.)

And as he journeyed.—The route by which the persecutor and his companions traveled was probably that taken by the Roman road, which extended from Jerusalem to Neapolis (Sychar, or Shechem), then to Scythopolis, then by the shores of the Sea of Galilee and Caesarea Philippi, and from there under the slopes of Hermon, to Damascus. On this supposition, Saul would have traversed the chief scenes of our Lord’s ministry and been stirred to madness by the progress which the new sect had made in the cities of Samaria. It is, however, possible that he may have taken the road by the Jordan valley by which Galilean pilgrims sometimes traveled in order to avoid Samaria; but the former was, beyond all question, the most direct and most frequently used road.

He came near Damascus.—The city has the interest of being one of the oldest in the world. It appears in the history of Abraham (Genesis 14:15; Genesis 15:2) and was, traditionally, the scene of the murder of Abel. David placed his garrisons there (2 Samuel 8:6; 1 Chronicles 18:6), and, under Rezon, it resisted the power of Solomon (1 Kings 11:24).

Its fair streams, Abana and Pharpar, were, in the eyes of the Syrian leper, better than all the waters of Israel (2 Kings 5:12). It was the center of the Syrian kingdom in its alliances and wars with those of Israel and Judah (2 Kings 14:28; 2 Kings 16:9–10; Amos 1:3; Amos 1:5).

Its trade with Tyre in wares, wine of Helbon, and white wool is noted by Ezekiel (Acts 27:16; Acts 27:18). It had been taken by Parmenion for Alexander the Great, and again by Pompeius.

It was the birthplace of Nicolaos of Damascus, the historian and rhetorician who is conspicuous as the counselor of Herod the Great (Josephus, Antiquities xii. 3, § 2; xvi. 2, § 2). At a later period, it was the residence of the Ommiyad caliphs and the center of the world of Islam.

The beauty of its site, the river which the Greeks knew as Chrysorrhoas (the “Golden Stream”), its abounding fertility, and the gardens of roses made it, as Lamartine has said, a “predestined capital.” Such was the scene that met the bodily eye of the fanatic persecutor.

The historian does not care to dwell on its description and hastens to that which met his inward gaze. Assuming the journey to have been continuous, the approach to Damascus would have come on the seventh or eighth day after leaving Jerusalem.

There shone round about him a light from heaven.—As in Acts 26:13, above the brightness of the sun. Three accounts of the event that thus turned the current of the life of Saul of Tarsus meet us in the Acts:

1. This, which gives the writer’s report of what he could hardly have heard from any lips but St. Paul’s;
2. St. Paul’s narrative before the Sanhedrin (Acts 22:6–11);
3. that which he gives before Agrippa (Acts 26:13–18).

They present, as will be seen, considerable variations, such as were natural in the records of a manifestation that was partial to some and complete to only one.

Those who were with him heard a voice but did not distinguish words (Acts 22:9). They saw, as stated here (Acts 9:7), the light, but did not perceive the form of Him who spoke.

The phenomena, in this respect, stand parallel to those of the voice from heaven, in which some heard the words, ascribing them to an angel, while others, hearing only the sound, said it thundered (see Note on John 12:29). It is not possible in such a history to draw a hard and fast line between the objective and the subjective. The man himself cannot say whether he is in the body or out of the body (2 Corinthians 12:2–3).

It is enough for him that he sees what others do not see, and hears what they do not hear, while they too hear and see enough to prove both to themselves and to him that something has occurred beyond the range of ordinary phenomena.

Nothing in the narrative suggests the thought of a sudden thunderstorm, which has seemed to some writers a probable explanation of the facts. In that case, the gathering gloom, the dark rolling clouds, would have prepared the traveler for the lightning flash.

If this hypothesis is entertained at all—and as it does not necessarily exclude the supernatural element and presents analogies to the divine manifestations on Sinai (Exodus 19:16) and Horeb (1 Kings 19:11–12), it may legitimately be entertained—we must think of the storm, if we take such a view, as coming with almost instantaneous quickness, the first flash and crash striking all with terror, while the full revelation of the Christ was made to the consciousness and conscience of the future Apostle.

Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?—It is remarkable that here only, in the original Greek, and in Acts 9:17, as in the reproduction of the words in Acts 22:27 and Acts 26:14, do we find the Hebrew form of the Benjamite name. It is as though he, who gloried in being above all things a Hebrew of the Hebrews, heard himself claimed as such by Him who spoke from heaven, called as Samuel had been called of old (1 Samuel 3:4–8), and having to decide whether he would resist to the end, or yield, saying with Samuel, “Speak, Lord, for Thy servant heareth.” The narrative implies that the persecutor saw the form of the Son of Man as well as heard His voice, and to that visible presence the Apostle afterwards refers as a witness to him of the Resurrection (1 Corinthians 9:1 and 1 Corinthians 15:8).

If we ask about the manner of the appearance, it is natural to think of it as being such as had met the gaze of Stephen. The martyr’s words, “I see the heavens opened, and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God” (Acts 7:56), had then seemed to the fiery zeal of the Pharisee as those of a blasphemer. Now he too saw the Son of Man in the glory of the Father stretching forth His hand, not now, as He then had done, to receive the servant who was faithful even to death, but, in answer to that servant’s dying prayer, to transform the persecutor into the likeness of his victim.

Who are you, Lord?—The word “Lord” could not yet have been used in all the fullness of its meaning. As in many cases in the Gospels, it was the natural utterance of respect and awe (John 5:7; John 9:36; John 20:15), such as would be roused by what the persecutor saw and heard.

I am Jesus whom thou persecutest.—Some of the best manuscripts give “Jesus of Nazareth”; or better, perhaps, Jesus the Nazarene. It is probable, however, that this was inserted from Acts 22:18, where it occurs in Saint Paul’s own narrative. Assuming the words to have been those which he actually heard, they reproduced the very Name which he himself, as the chief accuser of Stephen, had probably uttered in the tone of scorn and hatred (Acts 6:14)—the very Name which he had been compelling men and women to blaspheme.

Now it was revealed to him, or to use his own suggestive mode of speech, “in him” (Galatians 1:16), that the Crucified One was indeed, as the words of Stephen had attested, at the right hand of God, sharing in the glory of the Father. The pronouns are both emphatic: “I, in my Love and Might and Glory, I am the Jesus whom you, now prostrate and full of dread, have been bold enough to persecute.” It was not the disciples and brothers alone whom Saul was persecuting. What was done to them the Lord counted as done to Himself (Matthew 10:40).

It is hard for thee to kick against the pricks.—There is a decisive preponderance of manuscript authority against the appearance of these words here, and the conclusion of nearly all critics is that they have been inserted in the later manuscripts from Acts 26:14. As they occur in the English text, however, and belong to this crisis in Saint Paul’s life, it will be well to deal with them now.

In their outward form they were among the oldest and most familiar of Greek proverbs. The Jew who had been educated in the schools of Tarsus might have read them in Greek poets (Æschylus, Agam. 1633; Pindar, Pyth. ii. 173; Euripides, Bacch. 791), or heard them quoted in familiar speech, or written them in his boyhood.

They do not occur in any collection of Hebrew proverbs, but the analogy which they presented was so obvious that the plowmen of Israel could hardly have failed to draw the same lesson as those of Greece.

What they taught was, of course, that to resist a power altogether superior to our own is a profitless and perilous experiment. The goad only pricked more sharply the more the ox struggled against it. Two of the passages cited apply the words directly to the suffering which man is sure to encounter when he resists God, as for example—

“With God we may not strive;
But to bow down the willing neck,
And bear the yoke, is wise;
To kick against the pricks will prove
A perilous venture.”

—Pindar, Pyth. ii. 173.

We ask what lesson the words brought to the mind of Saul. What were the “pricks” against which he had been “kicking”?

The answer is found in what we know of the facts of his life. There had been promptings, misgivings, warnings, which he had resisted and defied.

Among the causes of these, we may well reckon the conversion of the friend and companion of his youth (see Note on Acts 4:36), and the warning counsel of Gamaliel (Acts 5:34–39), and the angel-face of Stephen (Acts 6:15), and the martyr’s dying prayer (Acts 7:60), and the daily spectacle of those who were ready to go to prison and to death rather than to renounce the name of Jesus.

In the frenzy of his zeal he had tried to crush these misgivings, and the effort to do so had brought with it discomfort and disquietude which made him more “exceedingly mad” against the disciples of the Lord. Now he learned that he had all along, as his master had warned him, been “fighting against God,” and that his only safety lay in the surrender of his own passionate resolve to the gracious and loving Will that was seeking to win him for itself. In his later retrospect of this stage of his life he was able, as by a subtle process of self-analysis, to distinguish between the element of ignorance, which made forgiveness possible, and that of a willful resistance to light and knowledge which made that forgiveness an act of free and undeserved compassion (1 Timothy 1:12–13).