Short Stories

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Blinded by the Light

When Saul heard believers in the Nazarene who fled Jerusalem were spreading his message, he went to see Caiaphas at the temple. Saul promised the high priest to return all of them in ropes and chains to be punished for their heresy.

Caiaphas weighed Saul’s words with a critical eye. He was impressed with the Pharisee’s enthusiasm and promised to give him letters of introduction to the synagogues in the region. They agreed that Saul would travel first to Damascus, the oldest city in the empire and the best place to round up the most renegades.

Damascus was located at the crossroads of caravans carrying southern Arabian frankincense and African myrrh. The Romans had laid out the city on a fertile plain watered by the Abana and Pharpar rivers. It would take a week for Saul and his escorts to reach this sanctuary, more than a hundred miles north of Jerusalem. Saul was escorted by two Sanhedrin security officers, who pulled donkeys loaded with bags of clothing, food, and water.

After passing by where Stephen had been executed for his blasphemy, Saul couldn’t shake off the image of the disciple bleeding in the sand and rocks. Saul’s party soon crossed through Samaria and then scaled the hills, where the air cooled the sweat on their faces. He pulled out the piece of Stephen’s stained tunic, examined it briefly, and quickly stuck it back in his travel pouch.

They stopped at night to eat and rest at a mansione, and fill their water skins. The second day they saw the distant snows of Mount Hermon and later, the Sea of Galilee. Crossing the upper Jordan and climbing barren hills, Saul developed in his mind a plan for arresting the Nazarene heretics and hauling them before the tribunal.

The next day brought into view the green oasis of Damascus on the south bank of the Barada River. The travelers walked on a plateau along a road that was empty except for a boy herding three goats. Puffy, dark rain clouds had moved in overnight and drifted eastward, leaving the midday Syrian sky with only scattered white, billowy patches painted on a blue canvas. Saul’s eyes scanned the heavens, as if they might reveal a secret message but there was nothing unusual.

Saul resumed traveling with the two temple officers, who ignored his interest in what seemed to the day’s weather. But as they passed the boy and his goats, the sky suddenly burst open with a brilliant flash of light. Saul covered his burning eyes and hit the ground, his face buried in yellow dust, his body stretched out like a dead tree. Was he still alive? Then he felt his heart beating, and a breath of wind. And silence. Then a voice unlike any other:

“Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?”

A warm, unwavering presence pierced the fibers of his soul. Who is it? He searched for an answer and asked, “Who are you, Lord?”

"I am Jesus whom you are persecuting. Now go to Damascus and you will be told what to do.”

“Jesus? But you’re dead! Nobody believed those people who said you came back to life. Why me? Why now?”

The scene of Jesus dying on the cross replayed in his mind. He was desperate.

“Help me up!” Saul pleaded to his escorts, but they said nothing about the supernatural encounter. He struggled to his feet and opened his eyes. “I can’t see! Where are you?”

“Over here,” a temple officer said.

“Everything is white. Help me!”

One of the officers came over and took Saul to the donkeys. “Wait here,” he said, “while I tie the animals together.”

Saul could hear the voices of his escorts in the distance.

“We’re ready,” one of them finally said.

Saul was trembling. “Lead me.” He stretched out his hands, groping in unfamiliar shadows.

The officers led him toward Damascus and by early afternoon had reached the city’s southern gate. Passing the sounds of a traveler’s inn and other caravans, they came to what his companions said was called Straight Street, an avenue of colonnades lined with shops and houses. They said nobody was around, because people were sleeping behind shuttered windows to keep out the hot midday sun.

“There it is,” an officer said.

They left Saul with Judas, a rich merchant who had been expecting them. Saul heard him instruct his servants to care for the animals and unload the bags, and then say farewell to the temple escorts.

“Come with me, Saul,” Judas said. He took Saul’s hand and helped him climb a few steps to an upper room. He stumbled once or twice and finally made it. Saul soon found himself lying on a comfortable bed and advised to rest.

“If you need anything, let me know,” Judas said, and closed the door.

It seemed only a minute had passed when Saul woke up the next morning to the noise of carts and animals outside, and the voices of merchants in the street below. He turned his head toward the sounds and blinked, hoping to see something. But the world around him was like a blank scroll without writing. He closed his eyes and began to pray. After some time—he didn’t remember how long—he experienced the vision of a man who gently laid his hands over Saul’s eyes so he may see again. Who was he?

When the apparition departed, Saul threw off the bed covers, jumped up, took a couple of steps, and collapsed. He crawled back to the bed still unable to see. His mind replayed Jesus’ words. He searched for an answer to justify his pride and murderous thoughts and actions. All he sensed was the magnitude of his sin. Now resting, Saul remembered David’s plea for mercy. Soon tears of repentance came and so did God’s forgiveness.

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