As Saul of Tarsus, or Paul the apostle, this man was not content to do things

half-heartedly. His zeal had for the time stamped out the activity at least of the heresy of

the Nazarenes in Jerusalem, but from the other cities news arrived that this pernicious

weed had taken root. Unsated by the blood of the saints shed in Jerusalem, he desired to

vindicate his Pharisaic claims by uprooting the Christian faith in the distant city of

Damascus. Armed with the necessary warrant from the high priest, the persecutor started

upon his journey of 150 miles in a frame of mind expressed in the unparalleled term,

"breathing out threatenings and slaughter." How long the journey took we do not know;

but taking the nature of the roads, the climate, and the eastern method of travelling,

authorities have estimated that it occupied the better part of a week.

What were the thoughts of this man during this week's travel? Nothing is recorded in

the Scriptures to tell us, except the words of the Searcher of hearts, "It is hard for thee to

kick against the pricks" (or ox goads). Saul, during that fateful journey, had been

"kicking against the goads," as the rebellious oxen do in the plough. The whirl of the

city, the excitement of the persecutions and scourgings gave place to the isolated

meditation of the Damascus journey. The ox goads against which Saul had kicked were

of a similar nature, though perhaps of much deeper intensity, to those which many

believers and readers of this little witness have had.

Could it be possible that such men as Peter and Stephen were right, and with the

whole Sanhedrin were wrong? Pride rose against such a thought; those who spoke

against the law and the temple must certainly be accursed. Thus would he reason; he

could not give expression to these thoughts to those with him, for that would be suicidal.

Did the angel face of Stephen haunt his steps along the road? We know not. Was

Gamaliel, his teacher, right in even suggesting that such action as his might prove to be

fighting against God? We cannot tell. What we do know is this. Spurred on by the

goads of an uneasy conscience, Saul urged his followers to abandon the wonted noon-day

rest and press on to the city of their desires.

Then, suddenly, the persecutor was changed into the preacher, the infuriated bigot into

the apostle of grace. A light, which eclipsed the Syrian noon-day sun as the gospel did

the traditions so tenaciously held by Saul, shone about them. He was struck to the earth;

something awful had happened.  One man alone knew its solemn meaning and

intelligently heard the words from heaven; into the darkened heart of Saul of Tarsus had

entered "the light of the knowledge of the glory of God, in the face of Jesus Christ." God

had revealed His Son in him. That was the turning-point of his life, for he had seen the

After the blinding flash of heavenly light there came a voice from heaven speaking in

the Hebrew tongue, saying, "Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou Me, it is hard for thee to

kick against the goads?" In answer to the trembling cry "Who art Thou Lord?" the voice

replied, "I am Jesus of Nazareth, whom thou persecutest." Oh wondrous revelation!

Had the voice said "I am Israel's Messiah," or "I am the Son of God," the apostle would

have denied the charge, but in the revelation from the heavenly glory that he was

persecuting Jesus of Nazareth, and that He indeed was the Lord, the Messiah of Israel, all