The conversion of the chief of sinners (1) The person Saul was

Not proof in the mathematical sense. But evidence that makes you stop and say, “What else could explain this?”

Saul wasn’t curious. He wasn’t “seeking.” He wasn’t one heartfelt conversation away from becoming a Christian. He was the church’s most violent enemy—so committed to stamping out the name of Jesus that Luke describes him as “breathing threats and murder” (Acts 9:1). That phrase is almost animal-like. Saul is not merely irritated; he’s consumed.

Luke has already shown us Saul three times before Acts 9, and every time it’s dark. Saul stands approvingly as Stephen is executed (Acts 7:58; 8:1). Then he escalates into a one-man wrecking crew: “Saul was ravaging the church… dragging off men and women” (Acts 8:3). And by Acts 9, he’s not even sure Christians are in Damascus—he’s willing to travel 150 miles “if he found any belonging to the Way” (Acts 9:2). That little word if tells you how obsessive he is. He’ll go on the off chance.

So why the fury?

Part of it is theological. Saul cannot accept a crucified Messiah. Deuteronomy 21:23 says the one “hung on a tree” is cursed. Jesus was crucified—hung on a “tree”—so in Saul’s mind, Jesus must be cursed, not chosen. A crucified Christ felt like a contradiction. And if Jesus isn’t the Messiah, then the church is not just wrong; it’s dangerous.

But there’s another layer that’s painfully human: Saul may also be fighting his own conscience. Later, when Saul recounts Jesus’ words to him, Jesus says, “It is hard for you to kick against the goads” (Acts 26:14). A goad was a sharp stick used to prod an animal forward. Jesus is basically saying, “Saul, you’ve been resisting My nudges—and it’s hurting you.”

What might those “goads” have been?

Saul had seen something he couldn’t easily explain away: Christians who would rather suffer than deny Jesus. He admits, chillingly, “I… tried to make them blaspheme” (Acts 26:11). In other words, he couldn’t break them—not even with punishment. That kind of courage leaves a mark.

And then there’s Stephen. Saul watched him die praying for his killers, echoing Jesus Himself (Acts 7:60; see also Luke 23:34). Stephen’s face was described as “like the face of an angel” (Acts 6:15). Even more striking: Stephen wasn’t only brave—he was persuasive. When Stephen debated the best opponents, they “could not withstand the wisdom and the Spirit with which he was speaking” (Acts 6:10). If Saul was among those debaters (and he likely was, given his background), imagine the frustration: the brilliant Pharisee, beaten in argument by a Christian.

Sometimes the loudest opposition hides a quieter unrest.

So here’s the practical question: what do you do with this?

First, don’t write people off. Saul is a case study in God’s ability to reach the most antagonistic person in the room. The person who argues the hardest may be “kicking against the goads”—resisting a conscience that won’t let them rest.

Second, let Saul strengthen your confidence in the risen Jesus. Saul had every reason to disprove Christianity. He was close to the events, motivated to expose fraud, equipped to investigate. Yet he becomes Paul—the man who will suffer and eventually die for Christ. That kind of turnaround is hard to explain unless Jesus truly is alive.

Finally, if guilt is what keeps you from God, Saul is your invitation. He calls himself “the foremost” (or chief) of sinners (1 Timothy 1:15), and then says God saved him to showcase “Jesus Christ’s perfect patience” (1 Timothy 1:16). In other words: if Jesus can forgive Saul, you’re not beyond mercy. Your sin is real—but it isn’t stronger than Christ’s grace.

The story of Saul begins in violence, but it doesn’t end there. And neither does yours.