Acts 9:17-19So, Ananias departed and entered the house. And laying his hands on him he said, "Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus who appeared to you on the road by which you came has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit." And immediately something like scales fell from his eyes, and he regained his sight. Then he rose and was baptized; and taking food, he was strengthened.
The disciple named Ananias in Damascus has a vision in which the Lord speaks to him concerning Saul/Paul who had been spending the last three days sightless and fasting both food and water. This is a pivotal moment in the early Christian story. This scene marks the transformation of Saul (later known as Paul) from fierce persecutor of the church to one of its great apostles.
Saul has a dramatic encounter with Jesus on the road to Damascus. a blinding light and Jesus’ voice confront him: "Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?" Saul is left blind, fasting, and praying for three days; a period symbolizing humility, repentance, and preparation, much like Jonah’s three days in the fish or Jesus’ three days in the tomb. Ananias, a disciple in Damascus, receives a vision from the Lord instructing him to go to Saul. Ananias is understandably hesitant at first (Acts 9:13-14), given Saul’s reputation for arresting and harming believers, but he obeys God’s command. Ananias enters the house where Saul is staying and lays hands on him. Ananias relays the message: Jesus, who appeared on the road, sent him for two purposes, restoring sight and filling with the Holy Spirit.
Acts 9:18"Immediately something like scales fell from his eyes, and he regained his sight."
This isn’t just physical healing; it’s a metaphor for spiritual enlightenment. Saul’s blindness represented his previous spiritual darkness in persecuting the church, and the "scales" falling away signify clarity and conversion. Saul eats and is strengthened, and he spends time with the disciples in Damascus, marking the beginning of his integration into the Christian community.
Paul’s later writings reflect on this conversion as a direct call from God, underscoring its authenticity.
Galatians 1:15-17"But when he who had set me apart before I was born, and who called me by his grace, was pleased to reveal his Son to me, in order that I might preach him among the Gentiles, I did not immediately consult with anyone; nor did I go up to Jerusalem to those who were apostles before me, but I went away into Arabia, and returned again to Damascus."
Early church fathers like Augustine saw this as a model of divine election, where God chooses and transforms whom He wills. But even more than this I think it's important to note that the local church serves God's purposes, especially in regards to new believers in the way. After his very sudden conversion, Saul needed baptism, food, and fellowship. And the disciples at Damascus were there to serve God in these things. This encourages us to support new believers (or even ourselves in weak moments) through practical care and inclusion. If God can turn a persecutor like Saul into the author of much of the New Testament, imagine what He can do with our lives. It’s a story of hope for anyone feeling "beyond reach."
Like Ananias, we might be called to reach out to "difficult" people, perhaps someone who’s opposed to our faith or who has hurt us. Ask: Where is God prompting me to act despite hesitation? Ananias isn’t mentioned anywhere else in the Bible, suggesting he was an "ordinary" believer, a reminder that God often uses unsung heroes. But this also highlights for me the importance of the local church over individual notoriety.
In my own life I've had something like a sudden conversion. Not as dramatic as Paul's, but turbulent, nonetheless. And not long after I was convinced/convicted by God's Word to find a local church community and so I set out to find one. At that time I wasn't hyper-focused on the political situation in the churches. I simply wanted to fellowship with God's people and I left it up to prayer and discernment. I was convicted in my heart by God's Word toward that end, and I wanted to be obedient to God's will.
Hebrews 10:25 - The Verse That Convicted Me"not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near."
At the time I was deeply involved in my own weekly study of God's Word and finally got around to this verse. Honestly it convicted me profoundly. I felt at the time as if God wrote that verse just for me. It’s a profound biblical principle that echoes throughout the New Testament, but it really hadn't convicted me beforehand.
The author of Hebrews (I believe Paul) urges believers to hold fast to their faith amid trials, holding unswervingly to hope, spurring one another toward love and good deeds, and not neglecting fellowship. The "fellowship of the believers" (koinonia in Greek) refers to a shared life in Christ: worship, prayer, teaching, breaking bread, and mutual support. It has its place in Christ's earthly kingdom, even if they are stubborn, lazy, lukewarm, argumentative, arrogant, and so on. It’s not optional, especially for new believers; it’s essential for growth, accountability, and endurance, especially as "the Day" (Christ’s return) approaches.
After Saul’s dramatic conversion and healing through Ananias' obedience, verse 19 notes that he "was with the disciples at Damascus for some days." This immediate integration into fellowship was crucial, Saul needed teaching, protection (from those believers who doubted him), and encouragement to begin preaching. Without the believers’ embrace, Paul's transformation might have faltered. Ananias’ obedience modeled fellowship in action: welcoming the former enemy as a brother in Christ.
It was like that with my little country church on the edge of town. It was a very small village congregation with a long history dating back to the early 1800's. It was founded in the "Congregationalist" tradition as a community of believers, with some ties to the earlier puritan roots. Today that church operates under the United Church of Christ synod. It's probably not as progressive as its synod, but just the same it's definitely aligned with that political ideology. I mention this because it's a testimony to how God can use even the apostate faith conventions to make disciples. It's a testimony that every believer is an individual in the eyes of God, not a religious group. Though he created the "church", and all its many iterations, He deals with the individual when it comes to salvation.
Take me for instance. I spent years in God's word and in prayer and fasting before going to a church. I eventually found a beautiful little country church on the edge of town. I didn't know anything about the UCC at the time. What I knew was I found a small village church with beautiful believers there. A whole bunch of Christian history lived there. It was a church populated by retired clergy and wonderful Bible study. My wife and I renewed our wedding vows there. And my youngest daughter was baptized there. I served for a very short time as a deacon, and I learned about church history there. That time of local church instruction was wonderful for a new believer like me. It wasn't until much later on that the political leanings in that synod were made clearer to me. And that's okay. That's a testimony to me that God can use even the error of apostate conventions to do some good for Christ's kingdom.
You know, as a part of my studies at that time, I learned a lot about the history of "The Church". And I'm thankful for that instruction time. It was like a short course in church history for me. And it didn't take very long for me to begin noticing the divide in the churches. I remember learning how the puritan church started in New England and spread throughout the New York "frontier". And eventually these faith communities created towns around these churches. The American "frontier" was founded upon these churches. On many different denominations and synods. As the frontier expanded westward, including into New York, these Puritan influences spread. Congregationalists (and their offshoots) helped found towns centered around the church, where unity in faith was paramount. The Congregationalist tradition, in which my first church draws from, traces it's origins directly to the Puritans who settled New England in the 1600s, seeking to "purify" the Church of England through covenant-based, autonomous congregations. And the American Baptist churches were also founded on these early puritan traditions. They eventually broke off from those purian traditions, mainly focusing on the believer’s baptism (by immersion, for adults) rather than infant baptism, which they saw as unbiblical. And they would move out into the frontier and found their own towns and churches. Many early Baptists were Separatists from the Church of England or Puritan circles, prioritizing congregational autonomy and personal conversion, echoing Saul’s own dramatic shift apart from Jerusalem.
Our nation was literally built upon this autonomous tradition of worship and community. This pluralism: Dutch Mennonites, French Huguenots, German Baptists, Quakers, and more, highlights how God’s kingdom advanced through varied traditions, even amid conflicts like the Revolutionary War. It’s a testament to unity in diversity, much like the early church blending Jews and Gentiles.
These independent minded communities of believers each felt that they should be a self-governing gathering of believers, free from hierarchical control; a radical idea that emphasized personal piety and communal accountability, much like the early church in Acts. I was drawn to these ideas early on because I was searching for a church that closely resembled the first century church model I had studied in my personal bible study.
You know, in those early days of our nation, it was unheard of that a town would have more than one church. Interesting to think about that. Unity in the faith was very important to these early Christian Americans. New towns popped up as the Word of God traveled throughout the frontier. And each town needed to build a new community of believers. Where I grew up, in the Mohawk Valley of New York, these communities were mainly Protestant, though in the cities the Roman Catholic church was present as well. It’s a powerful reminder from Romans 8:28 that God works all things for good, including through conventions or synods we might later question. Salvation is individual, yet the church (in all its iterations) is God’s design for collective growth.
Ephesians 4:11-16"And he gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the shepherds and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ, so that we may no longer be children, tossed to and fro by the waves and carried about by every wind of doctrine, by human cunning, by craftiness in deceitful schemes. Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and held together by every joint with which it is equipped, when each part is working properly, makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love."
Even if a congregation is stubborn, lazy, lukewarm, argumentative, or arrogant, it’s often where we learn humility, forgiveness, and perseverance. In the local church we find friendship with God and with His people who are broken, just like us. Let's face it, the Christian community is the church of the dropouts, the sinners, the failures, and the fools (like the song goes).
In my experience, God uses these different dimensions of the church to prepare and send disciples into the world. And that means it's relying heavily upon flawed people. People who are going to get the scriptures wrong, they're going to get Christ's teaching and intent wrong, and they're going to back up their ideas with compromise and new cultural norms. This all circles back to hope: If God transformed Saul, a hypocritical Pharisee, through a hesitant disciple and a fledgling community, and if He used a small UCC church to ground my faith under the instruction/example of good and faithful Christians, despite later realizations about their politics, then no one is "beyond reach."
Just as a funny side note on this thread, I first noticed the division in the church ideologies thanks to a local Mennonite church. They made a habit of walking through this little farm town each Sunday following their church services. They walked through town dropping tracts about their faith at various doorsteps. I of course loved this and engaged them often. And one day I was going to my own little UCC church to work on something and noticed they had stuck a tract in our church door. I laughed and of course I read it. It’s like a gentle nudge from history itself, highlighting the beautiful (and sometimes quirky) ways faith communities express their convictions. Their actions embody a "disciplined evangelism" that’s persistent yet non-confrontational, much like early Anabaptists distributing writings amid persecution. I truly appreciate their willingness and commitment to evangelism. And God often uses unexpected encounters to deepen our understanding. It was a Godly wakeup call, I believe sent specifically for me. Mennonites often emphasize conservative theology, community discipline, and a withdrawal from "worldly" politics, contrasting the much more integrated progressive denominations like the UCC.
I wrote about it in my journals and it caused me to study their history. But it struck me that there was this sort of distinction being made by the Christian communities. This caused me to ponder on these matters more and eventually as I progressed in my studies and lay ministry work which exposed me to the larger world of UCC politics, I gained firsthand experience in how the progressive movement has evolved in the church. It’s a reminder that, while national bodies lean liberal (on LGBTQ+ inclusion and social justice), individual local churches vary greatly, fostering the fellowship I cherished.
In the context of the larger synod I learned that progressives derive their identity from politics, viewing Jesus as a social liberator, whereas conservatives like myself emphasize theology and personal salvation. In the context of the synod I learned that Clergy often lean more liberal than congregants, amplifying divides on issues like LGBTQ+ rights or abortion. But I also learned that these people are people, imperfect just like me. Hebrews 10:25 urges, we’re called to fellowship despite these things, encouraging one another toward love and good deeds for Christ's sake.
Our takeaway today is in my mind that distinctions can prompt growth, not just division, echoing Saul’s integration into a skeptical Jerusalem/Damascus community. God works through imperfect vessels, turning "tract moments" into profound testimonies.
Sparked by those Mennonite tracts and my local UCC experiences, I was led to a lifetime of immersion in church history, systematic theology, and a focus of study into the early church fathers. Studying figures across many eras and traditions; Charles Finney (the fiery revivalist emphasizing free will and social reform), Paul Tillich (with his existential "ground of being" theology), Dietrich Bonhoeffer (whose costly discipleship amid Nazi oppression resonates so powerfully), Augustine (the architect of doctrines like original sin and grace), Thomas Aquinas (the scholastic giant bridging faith and reason in works like the Summa Theologica), Karl Barth (the neo-orthodox voice thundering against liberal theology), Anselm (famous for his ontological argument for God’s existence) and many others. It reflects a thoughtful engagement with diverse perspectives: Catholic scholastics, early patristics, modern liberals, and evangelical reformers. It's no wonder it solidified my Protestant roots, emphasizing sola scriptura, justification by faith, and the priesthood of all believers amid those varied voices.
But among all that history, I think my favorite story has to do with a local church history story that piqued my interest. I'm referring to Asa Gray (1810-1888), the renowned botanist and devout Christian born in Sauquoit, New York, right there in my home Oneida County. Asa Gray wasn’t a traditional theologian by trade, he was America’s foremost botanist, often called the "father of American botany" for his work classifying North American plants and teaching at Harvard. Which for a guy like me (being a horticulture expert by trade) stood out. But he also deeply engaged theological questions, especially in reconciling science and faith. As a committed Presbyterian, Gray corresponded extensively with Charles Darwin starting in the 1850s, exchanging over 300 letters that influenced both men. I recommend every Christian check these stories out. It's extremely interesting now that we've seen the future they both could have only speculated about. Gray defended evolutionary theory as compatible with Christian theism, arguing that natural selection could be God’s method of creation; a "design by wholesale, not retail," as he put it. For Gray, science glorified God, echoing Romans 1:20. But that's enough for now. Maybe someday I'll write more on this topic.
Dear Heavenly Father,
Thank You for the transformative power of Your grace, as seen in Saul’s conversion and in our own lives. Guide us in fellowship with believers, deepen our understanding through Your Word and history’s faithful witnesses, and strengthen our faith amid divisions. May we obey Your call like Ananias, reaching out with love and humility.
In Jesus’ Holy name, Amen.
