Note: This was originally presented as a seminary paper, and as such it has a more formal style than most of the other writings on this site. This paper also comes from early in my seminary training, when my arguments and research were a bit less polished than they are now.
The conversion of Saul to the Christian faith is one of the most important events related in the book of Acts. A persecutor who was no doubt a threat to the church and who consented to the first recorded Christian martyrdom (Acts 8:1) became the primary vessel the Spirit used to bring the gospel to the ends of the Earth. Luke brings out the importance of Saul's conversion by relating the story three times–once in the narrative and twice from the apostle himself. Yet these accounts are not identical; indeed, they contain several differences that are difficult for some to reconcile. According to the Anchor Bible, such apparent discrepancies lie in the "external" details, while the aim of the narratives is essentially agreeable. [2] Despite these deviations, however, the details of the account are compatible, and a careful reading of all three accounts reveals a sequence of events that is both unified and harmonious.
The questions of whether Luke intended to write history and of his faithfulness to the events he records have been a point of disagreement among scholars since the beginnings of higher-critical scholarship. Those questions are especially relevant to these passages for two reasons. First, if Saul's conversion was not a historical event, then there is little need to reconcile apparent discrepancies; they are just variations of a fable, akin to the alternate endings of "The Little Red Riding Hood." But if the conversion did happen as described, Bible interpreters are obliged to explain how all three accounts can be accurate reports of that event. Second, if apparently historical accounts prove to contain definite inconsistencies, then the author has at least once failed to faithfully relate the events, assuming it was his intention to do so at all. Consequently, scholars may base their stance on the issues of historicity and even inspiration on what they observe to be inaccuracies in the narrative. The Encyclopedia Biblica does so when it describes the difficulties of Saul's conversion accounts as "fatal to the stricter theories of verbal inspiration" [3]. The skeptic Edward Zeller likewise states that he is "more put off" by contradictions than by the numerous miracles surrounding the event. [4]
Students of difficult passages would be wise to note the commentator's view of the historicity of the passage under examination. Approaching the text as historical, fictional, or somewhere in between will affect how the commentator deals with apparent discrepancies. For example, Zeller's objective is apparently to convince his readers of the non-historicity of Saul's conversion by debunking arguments for harmonizing them. For him, such details as the order of the events, who said what and to whom, and the causes of various effects are "the very nature of historical truth." Lüdemann treats the passages as entirely fictional, doubting whether it was even feasibile for Saul to make a trip to Damascus to persecute Christians. From this perspective, the question is not how the details do or do not fit together, but what message these differences are meant to convey. [5] Paula Fredriksen holds all conversion narratives to be "both anachronistic and apologetic, constitut[ing] a condensed or disguised description of the convert's present, which he legitimizes through his retrospective creation of a past and a self." [6] Here the scholar questions the ability of a person to relate history at all, and any inaccuracies merely reflect the present mental state of the convert. For example, if the apostle told of his conversion to the Jews in chapter 22 and then told a different story in chapter 26, this could be due to a change in his life that caused him to recall his past differently.
Although so many scholars consider the conversion passages, the book of Acts, even the Bible as a whole, to be unhistorical, there is good reason to believe otherwise. A comprehensive defense of biblical truth is beyond the scope of the present project; however, the following may be said in defense of these accounts: Luke-Acts gives its purpose as the results of a careful investigation into the historical foundations of the Christian faith (Luke 1:1-4; Acts 1:1-2). An abundance of evidence indicates that Acts was written during the lifetime of many of the persons it mentions, and so a reader could easily confirm or disconfirm any details. Luke's own sources would likely have included Paul himself, as well as court records for Paul's speech before Agrippa (Acts 26). It is highly unlikely that Luke would have failed to notice the differences between the various accounts as he himself wrote and/or edited them. Evangelicals would add to this the theological conviction that the Holy Spirit superintended the writing of Acts to ensure a faithful communication of God's revealed truth. It is therefore the conclusion of this author that everything Acts asserts with regard to Saul's conversion happened as a historical event. As a result, as Baumgarten notes, it is "a duty incumbent on every commentator to work through every seeming discrepancy" in a historical narrative, even in "trifling circumstances." [7]
The first step in constructing a harmonized conception of an event is not to work through discrepancies, but rather to note the commonalities among the various accounts. All three passages introduce Saul as a persecutor assigned by Jewish religious leaders to persecute Christians in Damascus. Along the way, Saul encounters a shining light from heaven and hears a voice saying, "Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me?" Saul, having fallen to the ground, responds with the question, "Who are You, Lord?" The voice replies, "I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting." Jesus then tells Saul to stand up. At this point chapter 26 breaks away from the other narratives. In both chapters 9 and 22, Saul is left blind from the encounter and is led by the hand into Damascus. There a man named Ananias comes to Saul, addresses him as a brother, and causes him to regain his sight. Saul's baptism follows.
Even such a pared down account as the one above remains a very detailed story of a miraculous conversion. One might say that these facts are the most essential elements of Saul's conversion. Additional details could be incorporated depending on their relevance at the time.
The introductions of the three conversion accounts are of little note, except that chapter 26 gives less detail, only to say that Saul was persecuting in foreign cities "with the authority and commission of the chief priests" (26:12). Acts 9 and 22 report Saul's going to the high priest (and in ch. 22, the council of elders) to receive letters to Damascus. Since the actual authority of Jerusalem's elders did not extend to Damascus, these letters would be extradition papers. [8] Evidently, then, the "synagogues" in 9:2 refer to Jewish synagogues; these are not, as is sometimes preached, confiscated personal letters between churches. Chapters 9 and 22 also state that Saul's purpose was to bind any Christians in Damascus and bring them to Jerusalem. The only real possibility for discrepancy here is exactly who it was that gave Saul the letters. Chapter 9 says that Saul requested them from the high priest; 22:5 gives their source as "the whole council of elders," apparently including the high priest. Chapter 26 simply says that Paul acted with the consent of the chief priests (same Greek word as high priest, but plural). If Saul made the request before the council with the high priest presiding, or if he spoke to the high priest while the council drew up or possessed the letters, then there is no inconsistency in any of these statements.
All three accounts place Saul's encounter on the road to Damascus, and chapters 22 and 26 add that it happened around noon. Chapters 9 and 22 emphasize the suddenness of the light that shone around Saul. According to 26:13, this light was beyond the brightness of the sun. The rest of the encounter features four primary sources of tension for readers.
First, there is some question as to what Saul's companions saw and heard. According to 9:7, "the men which journeyed with him stood speechless, hearing a voice, but seeing no man" (KJV). But 22:9 seems to say the exact opposite: "And they that were with me saw indeed the light, and were afraid; but they heard not the voice of him that spake to me." Acts 26:3 adds that the light shone around those with Saul and that they all responded to the light, but only "I heard a voice," apparently supporting chapter 22's version of events. The distinction between seeing a person and seeing a light is simple enough, but a look at the Greek text provides no easy resolution to the hearing question. The words are identical (akouó for hear, phoné for voice). Scholars have proposed various solutions. Perhaps the oldest comes from Chrysostom and receives contemporary support from F. F. Bruce: Saul's companions heard Saul's voice (9:7) but not that of Jesus (22:9). [9] This distinction is untenable, however, in light of the definite article in chapter 9, which identifies the voice as the one mentioned in verse 4.
A more likely view, voiced by J. H. Moulton, A. T. Robertson, M. R. Vincent, W. E. Vine, and others, is that the distinction lies in the difference between the cases of phoné. [10] In chapter 9, the word is in the genitive case, whereas chapter 22 uses the accusative case. Proponents of this view argue that akouó plus a genitive indicates the hearing of a sound; the accusative stresses the content of what is being heard. Thus Saul's companions heard someone speaking but could not make out specific words. Robert Bratcher dismantles this view with counterexamples. For example, Saul hears the voice with the genitive case in Acts 22:7, as does Peter in 11:7. The accusative can be used when the hearer does not understand the sound, as in Matthew 12:19. [11] Daniel Wallace gives more exceptions to the supposed rule. [12] Polhill likewise refutes the case argument, pointing to the phrase "which was speaking to me" in 22:7 as the proper signal to distinguish between sound and content. [13]
Perhaps a more likely solution is a focus on the range of meaning within the words akouó and phoné. Bratcher lays down this general principle: the meaning of a verb "does not depend upon the case of its object, but on the whole context of the narrative in which the verb is used." [14] Akouó can mean anything from the perception of sound to understanding to belief or obedience. Further, the word phoné can mean "sound" or "noise" as well as the content of a speaker's voice. [15] If these accounts come from two different sources, such differences in usage can easily arise.
One more word may be said about the companions' perceptions: Despite Zeller's protests that there can be no distinction between the light and Jesus Himself, or that Saul's companions would also have been blinded had they seen it, [16] the response of the men in chapters 9 and 26 suggests that they did at least see something. It is also very possible that the light was brightest around Saul, or that his eyes were opened in a spiritual sense that allowed him to see Jesus in the light. In this case, it was his companions who were truly blind.
Second, the position of Saul's men was also a topic of some debate in the past century, though recent articles give this matter little attention. Acts 9:7 says that the men "stood speechless," while in 26:14, Saul says that the voice spoke "when we were all fallen to the earth" (KJV). Baumgarten's easy solution is that the men fell down at the suddenness of the light, but that they stood up again while Saul (still prostrate) received the commission from the Lord. [17] Zeller dismisses this idea outright: "The two cannot be harmonized by the hypothesis...that although they fell down at first, they got up again before the apostle." [18] Hackett appeals to the meaning of the verb in 9:7 for his defense. The word translated "stood" (the perfect tense of histémi) does not indicate standing up as much as remaining "stationary, as opposed to the idea of motion." As unambiguous examples, he offers Acts 8:38 (the stopping of a chariot) and Luke 5:2 (boats stopped by the shore). [19] It is significant that Zeller does not offer a counterargument to Hackett's point, which must have been well known by that time.
Third, most scholars have not presented differences in the dialogue of the encounter as discrepancies, but the variation apparently bothered scribes nevertheless. Quite a few manuscripts have been conflated so that the exchange between Jesus and Saul is identical in all three chapters. Interestingly enough, the narrative version in chapter 9 (the longest account altogether) gives the most abbreviated exchange of dialogue. Chapter 26 adds to Jesus' initial question the statement, "It is hard for thee to kick against the pricks" (26:14). In 22:8-10, Jesus identifies Himself as "of Nazareth," and Saul responds with the question, "What shall I do, Lord?" before he is ordered into the city to receive his commission. Resolving these differences is as easy as recognizing that a historian is not obliged to recount verbatim an entire conversation. Selection of details is essential for concise storytelling and is made out of sensitivity to one's audience and purpose.
Some see a slight discrepancy in the stated cause of Paul's blindness. [20] Acts 22:11 says that Saul could not see "for the glory of that light," but 9:18 mentions scales or crust having been over his eyes. Certainly, ordinary blindness caused by exposure to bright lights does not involve scales, but this was no ordinary event.
A fourth divergence among the three accounts regards Saul's commission from the Lord. In Acts 9, the commission is given from Jesus to Ananias in a vision. In chapter 22, Ananias gives a very different commission to Saul. In chapter 26, yet another commission comes to Saul, apparently from Jesus while Saul is still on the road to Damascus. Baumgarten asserts that the commissions from Ananias and on the road are not be equated but are two separate events. [21] Zeller again attacks Baumgarten here, saying, "To deny this contradiction (as Baumgarten does) is forbidden by the clearest evidence." [22] (Zeller does not offer any of his evidence, however.) Once again, selection of details is apparently in order. No doubt the commission was more than just a few sentences in length, and the word from Ananias may have served as an affirmation of what Saul had already heard on the Damascus road.
Many evangelical commentators content themselves with explaining apparent discrepancies and presenting the accounts as accurate and harmonized. But one may wonder why these differences appear. Without question, Luke was aware of these differences, as nearly all scholars agree. [23] Would it not have been easier to tell the story the same way in each instance? In fact, it could very well have damaged the apostle's credibility if he had Paul give the exact same speech in both instances, each with the same selection of details as in the narrative. Chapters 22 and 26 in particular show remarkable consideration for context in how this event is related. Luke's preservation of these differences in the final form of Acts allows the readers to see the care Paul takes in his speech. [24]
In chapter 22, Paul is speaking before a near-riotous Jewish audience who believed he had brought a Gentile into the sanctuary. He refers to the "whole council of elders" instead of simply mentioning the high priest of chapter 9, stressing the broad Jewish sanction of his pre-conversion actions. Jesus' identity as the Nazarene was important to the Jews because it distinguished Him from others of the same name and associated Him with Messianic prophecy. Saul describes Ananias as a devout Jew who lived by the law, providing a solidly Jewish affirmation of his call. In this context, the address, "Brother Saul" indicates that Ananias regarded Saul as still within the Jewish faith. The commission from Ananias then carries a Jewish flavor, with references to "the God of our fathers" and " the Righteous One." Also significant is the reference to Saul's companions seeing the light in chapter 22. Jews associated such lights with theophanies, based on the burning bush incident and other Old Testament encounters. Finally, the delaying of the commission until Ananias healed Saul may have been a device to keep the impatient audience's attention by creating suspense. Besides, Paul probably surmised that he would be interrupted as soon as he stated his true mission, and Ananias was an important support for his position.
In contrast, Paul's defense in chapter 26 is carefully tailored to suit a Greek and aristocratic audience. The Jewish technicalities of Saul's persecution are absent, and Saul must specify that Jesus speaks to him in Aramaic, since the apostle himself is delivering the speech in Greek. "It is hard for thee to kick against the pricks" was a Greek proverb found in the works of several Greek writers, including Euripides. [25] It would have been superfluous to give the story of Ananias, and Paul needed to emphasize that his commission was from God and not from men; mentioning Ananias might have defeated that purpose. Paul also does not give attention to his weaknesses during this time, because he is presenting his commission as an empowering event.
As for the narrative in chapter 9, Luke may very well have used a separate written source, or else simply what Paul had told him over the years. One cannot imagine the apostle keeping the story to himself throughout his long journeys. Luke must have heard it many times. Here Luke dwells on the persecution to heighten the contrast between the pre-conversion and post-conversion Saul. The companions' inability to see Jesus makes the Damascus road incident a one-on-one encounter. Luke employs a bit of suspense by leaving Saul seemingly without a commission until he enters the city. He further shows Paul's helplessness by adding a detail about his three days without food or drink. [26] Ananias here is identified as a disciple, which gives Christian legitimacy to Saul's calling. The Lord's sending of Ananias has certain parallels with the vision to Cornelius in the following chapter. Since this is the third in a line of four conversion stories, it is fitting that such parallels be included in the narrative. [27] Now Saul's brotherhood with Ananias shows Ananias' faith and Saul's inclusion as a fellow disciple. The narrative closes by reversing Saul's condition: he regains sight, has himself baptized into the faith, receives food, and begins preaching Jesus.
The story of Saul's conversion is illustrative of the freedom an ancient historian could employ in reporting events and yet remain faithful to their historical reality. Taken in context, the apparent discrepancies have certainly not arisen from inattention, and all the differences fit perfectly well within their own contexts. Luke is certainly not, as some claim, using the texts to correct one another or merely using variation to hold the reader's interest in the midst of rhetorical redundancy. [28] The colors cast on the event by the varied reports provide a richer and fuller picture than one long, detailed recounting of the event could ever do. The reason God has given us three stories of Saul's conversion, and four Gospels, and other apparent repetitions is not so that we have multiple copies of the same story, but so that we get the whole story.
For a concise statement of my beliefs about the Bible, see my Declaration of Faith.
