Commentary - Acts 22:6-11

Bird's-eye view

In this passage, the Apostle Paul, formerly Saul of Tarsus, is giving his defense before a hostile Jewish mob in Jerusalem. Having been arrested in the temple on trumped-up charges, he switches to their native tongue and recounts the story of his own conversion. This is not merely an exercise in autobiography; it is his central apologetic. He is explaining why a Pharisee of Pharisees, a man zealous for the traditions of the fathers, is now a preacher of the Nazarene whom he once persecuted. The account is a raw display of God's sovereign, interrupting grace. It is a story of a hostile takeover, where the risen and glorified Christ personally intervenes in history to arrest His chief enemy and transform him into His chief apostle. The core of the passage is the direct, unmediated confrontation between Saul and Jesus, a collision of blinding light and a penetrating voice that leaves Saul physically blind but spiritually illuminated. This testimony serves to establish the divine origin of Paul's apostleship and the truth that the crucified Jesus is in fact the reigning Lord.

Luke sees fit to include three separate accounts of this conversion in the book of Acts (chapters 9, 22, and 26), which underscores its foundational importance for the early church. Here in chapter 22, Paul tailors his account for his Jewish audience, emphasizing his impeccable credentials as a zealous Jew in order to show that his conversion was not the result of laxity or disillusionment, but rather a direct and irresistible act of God. The story is a microcosm of the gospel itself: a man dead in his trespasses and sins, actively at war with God, is brought to life and into submission not by his own choice, but by the sheer, unadulterated power of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Outline

Context In Acts

This passage is situated in a moment of high drama. Paul has just completed his third missionary journey and, against numerous prophetic warnings, has come to Jerusalem. His purpose was to deliver a financial gift to the saints there and to maintain unity between the Gentile and Jewish wings of the church. However, his presence in the temple is misinterpreted by some Jews from Asia, who accuse him of defiling the holy place by bringing in a Gentile. This sparks a riot, and Paul is nearly beaten to death before being rescued by the Roman cohort. The commander, Claudius Lysias, assumes Paul is a common criminal and prepares to have him scourged. Paul avoids this by revealing his Roman citizenship. Given permission to address the crowd from the steps of the Antonia Fortress, Paul launches into the testimony we find here. This is not a courtroom speech delivered to a judge, but a gospel appeal shouted to a lynch mob. It is an attempt to explain the radical transformation that lies at the root of his ministry, a transformation that began on the road to Damascus.

Key Issues

The Hostile Takeover

We must not sentimentalize what happened to Saul on the Damascus road. This was not a gentle wooing. This was not a man "finding himself" or "opening his heart to Jesus." This was an invasion. Saul was a man breathing out threats and slaughter against the church of God. He was, in his own mind, doing God's work by stamping out a dangerous heresy. He was on his way to Damascus with legal papers, intent on arresting men and women and dragging them back to Jerusalem for punishment. He was God's enemy, and he was proud of it.

And then God acted. The Lord Jesus Christ, in His glorified state, reached down from heaven and knocked him flat. This was a divine mugging. God did not ask Saul's permission. He did not consult Saul's free will. As Spurgeon might say, God does not come to us to ask if He may save us. He comes and saves us. The conversion of Saul is the paradigm case for what the Puritans called irresistible grace. When God determines to save a man, that man will be saved. He may kick against the goads, as the Lord told him he was doing, but the goads always win. This is not a violation of Saul's will, but rather a liberation of it. God struck him down in his rebellion in order to raise him up as a son, freeing his will from its bondage to sin and hatred so that it might joyfully serve the living God.

Verse by Verse Commentary

6 “But it happened that as I was on my way, approaching Damascus about noontime, a very bright light suddenly flashed from heaven all around me,

Paul begins with the simple facts of the case, setting the scene. He was on his way, on his mission, fully committed to his course of action. The time is significant: about noontime. This was not a vision in the dead of night when a man's mind can play tricks on him. This was at high noon, when the Middle Eastern sun is at its brightest. And yet, the light that flashed from heaven was so bright it completely overwhelmed the sun. This was not natural light; this was supernatural glory. This was the Shekinah glory of God, the same glory that filled the tabernacle and the temple, the same glory that Isaiah and Ezekiel saw. This was the unveiled glory of the risen and ascended Christ. It flashed suddenly, an ambush of light. God did not announce His coming; He simply arrived.

7 and I fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to me, ‘Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me?’

The physical response to this revelation of glory is immediate and appropriate: he fell to the ground. In the presence of unveiled holiness, man cannot stand. He is undone. And from this position, prostrate in the dust, he hears a voice. The voice is personal; it calls him by name, twice: "Saul, Saul." This is a Hebrew form of address that often carries a sense of urgency or deep emotion. And then comes the charge, the central question of this entire encounter: "Why are you persecuting Me?" Notice the pronoun. Jesus does not say, "Why are you persecuting My followers?" or "Why are you persecuting My church?" He says, "Why are you persecuting Me?" In this one sentence, the profound mystery of the union between Christ and His church is revealed. To attack the body is to attack the Head. To touch God's people is to touch the apple of His eye. Saul thought he was fighting a sect of troublesome Jews; he discovers he has picked a fight with the Lord of Glory.

8 And I answered, ‘Who are You, Lord?’ And He said to me, ‘I am Jesus the Nazarene, whom you are persecuting.’

Saul's response is one of utter confusion and submission. He knows he is in the presence of a divine being; he addresses him as "Lord" (Kurios), a term of respect that can also be a title for God. "Who are you?" The persecutor does not know the identity of his victim. And the answer must have hit him like a thunderbolt. "I am Jesus the Nazarene." The very one he hated. The one he considered a blasphemous fraud from a backwater town. The one whose followers he was hunting down. This is the one who possesses the glory that outshines the sun. And just in case the point was missed, He repeats the charge: "whom you are persecuting." The identification is absolute and devastating. Saul's entire worldview, his theology, his life's mission, is shattered in an instant.

9 And those who were with me beheld the light, to be sure, but did not understand the voice of the One who was speaking to me.

Paul adds a crucial detail here that functions as corroborating evidence. He was not alone. His companions also experienced the phenomenon. They saw the light, so they could testify that something extraordinary happened. However, the revelation was not for them. They "did not understand the voice." The Greek here can mean they did not hear the articulate words, but only a sound, or that they did not comprehend the meaning of what was said. In Acts 9:7, it says they heard the voice but saw no one. These are not contradictions. They are different perspectives on a complex event. They all heard a sound, and they all saw a light, but only Saul saw the person of Christ and understood His words. God's revelation is sovereignly directed. He speaks clearly to His intended target while the message remains veiled to others. This was a personal appointment between the Lord Jesus and Saul of Tarsus.

10 And I said, ‘What should I do, Lord?’ And the Lord said to me, ‘Rise up and go on into Damascus, and there you will be told of all that has been determined for you to do.’

Saul's first question was "Who are you?" His second question is "What should I do?" This is the response of a conquered man. This is the language of unconditional surrender. The proud Pharisee, the self-righteous persecutor, is now asking for orders. He has a new Lord. The Lord's command is simple: get up and go into the city. The full revelation of his new mission will not come out here on the road. It will come in Damascus, through the ministry of another disciple named Ananias. Notice the language: "all that has been determined for you to do." Saul's life is no longer his own. His future has been divinely appointed. The doctrine of predestination is not just a theological concept for Paul; it is his lived experience from the very first moment of his conversion.

11 But since I could not see because of the glory of that light, being led by the hand by those who were with me, I came into Damascus.

The encounter ends with a profound and symbolic consequence. The man who was spiritually blind but thought he could see is now physically blind from the "glory of that light." He who was a proud leader, holding the authority of the Sanhedrin, is now helpless as a child, needing to be led by the hand into the very city he intended to terrorize. This is a picture of utter humiliation and dependence. God blinded him in order to make him see. He struck him down in weakness in order to raise him in power. Saul of Tarsus entered Damascus not as a proud inquisitor, but as a blind, broken, and conquered man, ready to receive his commission from the Lord he had once persecuted.

Application

The story of Saul's conversion is not just the story of one man. It is the story of every Christian, written in bold letters. While the external circumstances of our conversions are rarely so dramatic, the internal reality is precisely the same. We were all, by nature, enemies of God. We were all persecuting Christ by our sin and rebellion. We were all spiritually blind, heading down a road of our own choosing that led to destruction. And at a time appointed by God, the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ broke in upon us.

This passage forces us to ask some hard questions. Do we view our salvation as a hostile takeover by a gracious God, or as a sensible decision we made when we were ready? The gospel is not a self-help program. It is a resurrection from the dead. God does not negotiate with rebels; He conquers them with grace and makes them His sons. This truth should produce in us a profound humility. We contributed nothing to our salvation but the sin that made it necessary. All the glory goes to God.

Furthermore, this passage shows us the heart of our mission. When Saul asked, "What should I do, Lord?" he was given a task. Every converted person is a commissioned person. We are not saved to sit, but to serve. Like Paul, we are to be witnesses to what we have seen and heard. Our testimony is not about how we found God, but about how He found us. It is the story of His blinding light, His penetrating voice, and His sovereign grace that took a persecutor and made him a preacher. That is a story worth telling.