THEY HAD NEVER met him personally, but his reputation preceded him. One can only imagine the stories Epaphras might have told. And now, they were receiving a letter from the man known as the apostle to the Gentiles. His adventures and misadventures across the Roman Empire may already have been the stuff of legend — and possibly urban legend as well.

Paul has, of course, already introduced himself to the Colossians in the opening greeting, as custom required. But even as we come to the final verses of chapter 1, he still hasn’t quite begun the main argument of the letter. He’s used unimaginably exalted language to describe Jesus, portraying him as both a flesh-and-blood human being and the cosmic Christ, as if to say, This is the Jesus in whom you already believe; there is no one greater. Be amazed at what God has already done through him, for you and for all of creation. And he ends that section of the letter by calling himself a “servant” of the gospel.

Thus, before he gives them his pastoral counsel in chapter 2, he says more about what it means for him to be such a servant:

Now I rejoice in what I am suffering for you, and I fill up in my flesh what is still lacking in regard to Christ’s afflictions, for the sake of his body, which is the church. I have become its servant by the commission God gave me to present to you the word of God in its fullness—the mystery that has been kept hidden for ages and generations, but is now disclosed to the Lord’s people. To them God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory. He is the one we proclaim, admonishing and teaching everyone with all wisdom, so that we may present everyone fully mature in Christ. To this end I strenuously contend with all the energy Christ so powerfully works in me. (Col 1:24-29, NIV)

As with the preceding verses, these last six verses of chapter 1 are filled with meaning; it will take some time to unpack them. But before we do that, I want us to try to imagine our way into Paul’s way of thinking, based on what we know of his biography. How did he become someone who can rejoice in suffering? How is he able to continue to work for the gospel with every ounce of his energy?

. . .

LET’S GO BACK to the story of Paul’s conversion in Acts 9. At that point in Luke’s story, Paul is known by his Jewish name as Saul of Tarsus. Trained as a Pharisee, Saul was zealous to protect the purity of the Jewish faith. To him, Jesus was a sham Messiah, an impostor, and those who followed him were therefore heretics. This new movement, known to some as “The Way,” was a sacrilegious blight that needed to be eliminated. He was present at the execution of Stephen, who was stoned to death by the Sanhedrin for what they considered to be blasphemy, and Saul was only too happy to help eradicate other blasphemers wherever he might find them. It became his personal mission to find and arrest Christians.

He asked for the support of the high priest, who agreed to write him letters that empowered him to seek out believers in Damascus and drag them back to Jerusalem as prisoners. Why did Paul go there, specifically? We’re not told. When Stephen was executed, other believers in Jerusalem were persecuted, and they fled to surrounding areas. It’s possible that some fled to Damascus, though it was well over 100 miles away. And if so, it’s possible that Saul somehow got wind of this. Or did he already have business in Damascus? There’s no way to know.

What we do know, however, is what happened to Saul on the way there. He was suddenly enveloped in a blinding light from heaven and fell to the ground. I imagine him reflexively squeezing his eyes shut — and if so, he would not have been able to see the risen Jesus. In fact, Luke tells us that Saul’s traveling companions didn’t see anyone. But there was nothing wrong with Saul’s ears. He heard a voice: “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” (Acts 9:4, NIV).

Note the language. Jesus doesn’t ask, “Why are you persecuting the church?” He doesn’t say, “Why are you harassing my people?” He asks, “Why are you persecuting me?” Saul responded, probably with a trembling voice, “Who are you, Lord?” (vs. 5). I doubt he needed to ask; he was smart enough to work it out for himself. But this wasn’t a moment for rational reflection; it was a moment of godly fear. And the one thing Paul knew for sure in that moment is that whoever was speaking had to be addressed as Lord.

The response was crisp and to the point: “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. Now get up and go into the city, and you will be told what you must do” (vss. 5-6). So Saul got up. But when he opened his eyes, he found himself blind, and stayed that way for three days as he fasted and prayed.

Saul had been right to suspect that there were believers in Damascus. In the city, the risen Jesus appeared to a man named Ananias; he would be the one through whom God would restore Saul’s sight and fill him with the Holy Spirit. Ananias was at first reluctant to do so; again, Saul’s reputation preceded him. But Jesus reassured him: “Go! This man is my chosen instrument to proclaim my name to the Gentiles and their kings and to the people of Israel. I will show him how much he must suffer for my name” (vss. 15-16).

So Ananias went. Saul, too, had had a vision; he knew that Ananias was coming. And when he placed his hands on Saul and prayed for him, scales fell from Saul’s eyes and he could see again. He was baptized, broke his fast, and wasted no time getting out to preach the gospel. Before, he had sought to visit the synagogues to arrest believers; now he went to the synagogues to make believers. And not surprisingly, he ended up making enemies as well.

. . .

THIS WAS THE man writing to the Colossians. He knew that it was his lot as an apostle to suffer for the gospel. But even in his persecution of the church, he showed himself to be a man of deep conviction and extraordinary zeal. His experience on the Damascus road didn’t create that zeal; it flipped his script. Before, he had taken the resurrection to be a blasphemous hoax, but the appearance of the risen Jesus changed everything. The scales fell from his eyes, and he saw everything he knew about God in a new and brilliant light.

This is the image of Paul I want us to keep in mind as we explore what he says about his own apostleship, his commission from the risen Lord. He marvels at the mystery that has been revealed to him, and he has dedicated his life to teaching it to others, whatever he might have to suffer for it.