
“Who are You, Lord?” (Acts 9:5). This question was asked by Saul of Tarsus when his journey to Damascus was interrupted by a light “beyond the brightness of the sun” (26:13) and by a voice saying “in the Hebrew dialect, Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me?” (v. 14). At the time of this encounter Saul was no heathen but rather a zealous, religious Jew. He was earnestly following the traditions of his forefathers, who had for generations worshipped God according to the Old Testament. As he later described himself, he was “beyond many contemporaries in my race, being more abundantly a zealot for the traditions of my fathers” (Gal. 1:14).
In Saul’s time something new arose in addition to the Jewish religion. Those who believed in this new way were referred to by their opposers as “the sect of the Nazarenes” (Acts 24:5) because of Jesus of Nazareth. Saul was enraged at the claims of this “sect” and alarmed at the number of Jews who were being converted to it. He was determined to stamp it out. Both men and women who held such beliefs were arrested and dragged into prison.
Saul was en route to Damascus, authorized by the high priest to bring back to Jerusalem any he found who were “of the Way” so that they might be punished. While he was carrying out this self-assumed commission, he was suddenly confronted by that very Nazarene, calling to him by name from heaven. Saul’s reply was, “Who are You, Lord?” Someone who knew his name but whose name Saul did not know visited him from heaven, causing him to fall to the ground, trembling and astonished.
To Saul the sky was opened. Heaven was opened. The heart of God was opened. From that time on, Saul began to see something not of or from the earth but from the heavens. He referred to this seeing as “the heavenly vision” (26:19).
What a sharp contrast this was to Saul’s previous view of things! All his zealous concern for the Jews’ religion came from beneath, not from above. He had been brought up “at the feet of Gamaliel, according to the strictness of the law of our fathers, being zealous for God” (22:3). Yet those teachings and traditions were earthly. Never before had he heard a voice from heaven.
Saul was a seeker of Christ. Before the journey to Damascus, his pursuit of Christ was negative. The heavenly voice asked, “Why are you persecuting Me?” The Greek word for persecute is the same as that translated “pursue” in Philippians 3:12 and 14. Before his heavenly encounter, Saul pursued Christ in hatred, with the intention of wiping Him out by destroying His followers. Afterward, though, he said, “I pursue toward the goal for the prize to which God in Christ Jesus has called me upward” (v. 14). His pursuit of Christ became one of love.
At what point in Saul’s journey to Damascus did he repent? It was when he changed his direction. His whole mentality was focused in one direction, but when the light shined upon him and he fell to the ground, his course was turned around. He repented.
While he still lay on the ground, he called on the name of the Lord. Why did he call this One Lord when he did not know who He was? He realized that that One calling him from the heavens must surely be the Lord. Saul, then, first repented and then was saved by calling on the name of the Lord.
The Lord has a way to make us change our direction. Saul of Tarsus was bold and aggressive, but he fell before the One whom he was pursuing in hatred. Suppose he had simply gotten up again, determined to continue on his way and disregard the voice from the heavens. If he had kept his eyes toward Damascus and refused to look heavenward, surely the Lord would have intervened in an even stronger way to compel him to desist. However determined we may be to press on in our own conviction, we cannot prevail against this One who speaks from the heavens. Deep in my spirit is the prayer that the Lord will keep me from heading toward Damascus against His will.
When Saul fell to the ground, his eyes were opened. He thought he had clear vision before that. It was he who was leading others toward Damascus, but after he was smitten by the light from heaven, “they led him by the hand and brought him into Damascus” (Acts 9:8). When he could no longer see where he was going, the heavenly seeing came to him.
It is a mercy if such blindness can come upon all of us. We are too clear about what we are doing and where we are going. We continue on our way, unaware that we are blind, smug in the assurance that we know everything.
“Where there is no vision, the people cast off restraint” (Prov. 29:18). For all his self-assurance, Saul of Tarsus had no vision and no restraint. It took the voice from heaven to rescue him. What he called the heavenly vision is the central point of the divine revelation. Though Saul was so well versed in the Old Testament with its commandments and outward ordinances, he did not see its central point.
The same is true of many Christians. They may be familiar with the Bible, but they miss its central point, the heavenly vision. If we mean business with the Lord, such a vision will assuredly come to us. Until this happens, like Saul of Tarsus we are blind, though our physical eyes have sight.
Saul in his blindness was persecuting Christ, yet we must admit that he did have a heart for God.
Are we seeking after what is on God’s heart? The heart is the focus of the body. We may have an arm cut off or our eyes snatched out, but we can still live. Once our heart is taken out, though, we are finished. We can easily touch someone’s shoulder or nose or hand, but it is not easy to touch someone’s heart. The same is true of the Bible. We may have seen many of its teachings, but the focus of the divine revelation, like our heart, is not easily seen. It requires a heavenly vision.
It is all too common for Christians to be burdened with what is good and scriptural — like going to the mission field to convert the heathen, for example — yet miss God’s deepest desire.
As you are going on your journey, look to Him to make you fall to the ground and say, “Who are You, Lord?”
Who is this little man from Nazareth? From that day on the road to Damascus, Saul began to see who He is. As the years went by, Paul (no longer Saul) wrote many Epistles to unfold the significance of this One. “Jesus, whom you persecute,” is God incarnate. He is the Redeemer who took away our sins. In His death He terminated the old creation. He resurrected to be Head of the new creation. Today in ascension He is Christ the Lord, Head over all things to the church. Those who believe in Him become members of His Body.
The central point of the Bible concerns the Triune God and His relationship with man. As Paul tells us, all the fullness was pleased to dwell in the Son (Col. 1:19). The Son is the embodiment of the Father’s fullness. If we receive the Son, we have the Father, who is embodied in the Son. Why is the Father in the Son? It is so that the Son may enter into us, and with Him the Father. In this way the Father will have a Body to be the fullness of the Son.
That Body is the church, which becomes the fullness of Christ by taking in His riches. As we eat of Christ and experience Him, we become the embodiment of His riches. To be His fullness is to be His expression.
Seeing this central point of the Bible will keep us from casting off restraint. Too many Christians have cast off restraint in their preoccupation with doctrinal matters or in their zeal to do things for God. The vision that we are part of His Body and that He is the Head will safeguard us from all such distractions.
Do not turn your eyes away to consider the way chairs should be arranged in the meetings, whether guitars should accompany your singing, or whether your meetings should be loud or quiet. If I propose that you should have more guitars in your meetings, how will you answer me? Your reply must not be about guitars; you must answer me with Christ, or you lose the case. You must answer me with the heavenly vision.
One aspect of this heavenly vision seen by Paul is that Christ has to be wrought into our being. Galatians 4:19 says, “My children, with whom I travail again in birth until Christ is formed in you.” It became the apostle’s deep longing that the believers might have Christ take shape in them.
The apostle prayed in Ephesians 3:17 “that Christ may make His home in your hearts through faith.” Have you ever thought that Christ needs you to provide a home for Him? He wants to settle down in your heart. You may think that heaven is a wonderful place to be, but Christ does not appreciate being there. He is homeless without you. He longs to make His home in your heart. The theologians may think that such a thought is too subjective, that your heart is too small to contain the great Christ, and that He is far off in the third heaven. Nevertheless, Paul prayed that Christ may make His home in your heart. This is the intimate relationship that should exist between Christ and you.
“According to my earnest expectation and hope that in nothing I will be put to shame, but with all boldness, as always, even now Christ will be magnified in my body, whether through life or through death” (Phil. 1:20). To be magnified is to be expressed in an enlarged way. It was the longing and expectation of Paul that Christ be so expressed in him.
For Him to be magnified in you is for Him to be shown without limitation. Your love or your humility is superficial and of short duration. According to Ephesians 3:18-19, Christ is the universal breadth, length, height, and depth. He is the dimension of the whole universe. There is no limit to His love. Your family can quickly exhaust all your virtues. Let this One with His unsearchable, inexhaustible riches make His home in your heart. He is magnified by His riches being made known to all.
In Colossians 2:6-7 Paul tells us to walk in Christ, having been rooted and being built up in Him. He becomes the country in which we walk, the sphere in which we live, the soil in which we are rooted, and the foundation on which we are built up.
The heavenly vision is that this Christ must be wrought into us. When Paul said, “I was not disobedient to the heavenly vision” (Acts 26:19), he implied that he no longer had any regard for tradition or religious teachings. His only concern was the living, present Christ. That is why he could later say, “To me, to live is Christ” (Phil. 1:21).
Once you see this, you will repent of many good things. Suppose, for example, you talk to a brother in a harsh way. Later, when you go to the Lord, you confess, “Lord, I am sorry I was so mean to my brother. Forgive me. From now on, help me to treat all the brothers right. Help me not to be so harsh.” Do you think that is the right way to pray? If you do, you have not seen the heavenly vision that Christ must live. It is not a matter of your being nice to others but of Christ being your life. Such a prayer itself needs to be repented of.
We want to live a good Christian life — studying the Bible, preaching the gospel, honoring our parents, being a good neighbor, not losing our temper, and being kind to everyone. I beg you, discard all these concepts! The vision we need to see is that Christ must be our life.
Have you ever repented of your good behavior? of your love? of your kindness? You must have, if you have seen the vision. God does not want you to be full of love but to be full of Christ. In our early Christian experience, our repentance is for bad things, but later we shall find that our repentance is mostly for good things. “Lord, forgive me for my kindness. Forgive me for all my virtues, void of Christ.” A Christian who is full of humility without Christ is a rebel. He is rebelling against the heavenly vision that Christ must be everything to him. Your thinking, your emotion, your intention, your motive, your quickness or your slowness — all these must be Christ.
How far-reaching was the vision Paul was granted in answer to his question, “Who are You, Lord?” The revelation that came to him filled his writings; through them, under the heavenly enlightening, the same vision can be ours. This Jesus of Nazareth embodies the fullness of the Father. The church, the embodiment of the Son, takes in His riches and thus becomes His fullness. Christ Himself must be wrought into us and become our life.
We obey this vision by taking Him as our life, not allowing ourselves to be distracted by doctrines or striving after good behavior. All day long, throughout all our activities, we must maintain contact with this Christ. As we constantly talk to Him in prayer (1 Thes. 5:17), we will be spontaneously taking Him as our person and thus living according to the heavenly vision.