In the current climate, a large swath of secularists would be nervous if they knew we were considering the conquest of Canaan in the book of Joshua. The remainder would be fascinated as they attempted to understand the Christian way over against their own unbelieving assumptions. Their fascination would not be misplaced, nor their fear. Granted, many of them would speak of a Christian jihad, and we are up to nothing of that sort. But their true fear is the terror of the Lord—the sword of the Spirit—which is more deadly than any earthly blade.

What this means for us is that we should not let the secularists understand the times better than we do. If they understand Joshua is an apt book at this moment, how much more should we?

The Lord saw fit to give us three distinct accounts of Saul’s conversion on the way to Damascus. The first (Acts 9:1-19) is a third-person narrative by Luke. The second is our passage here today, a first-person defense to an angry mob (Acts 22:1-21). The third is Paul’s first-person defense to King Agrippa (Acts 26:1-23), which we will consider in detail in due course.

As it happened, all the warnings that Paul had received on the way to Jerusalem came true, almost immediately. If the thing was going to happen, there was apparently no sense in delaying it. We have before us the account of Paul’s attempt at conciliation, and the riot and arrest that happened anyway.

So Paul is resolved to go to Jerusalem, and apparently a sense of destiny rests upon him. He is repeatedly warned what will happen if he does, and Luke records the warnings carefully. This is not to make us think that Paul was disobeying the Spirit. The prophecies did not say, “You must not go,” but rather, “This is what will happen if you go.” This warning happens in “every city” (Acts 20:22-23). It happened in Tyre (Acts 21:4). Agabus also warns him (Acts 21:11). Nevertheless, Paul is resolved to do what he must do. He may even have the long game of appealing to Caesar in mind.

As human beings, we struggle to even comprehend the meaning of the word “eternal.” To begin, we need to make some distinctions. First, we need to distinguish God’s eternity from our eternity, or timeless eternity from everlasting eternity. His life is so full that he doesn’t experience it in a succession of moments like we do. Our eternity is better thought of as everlastingness. Everlasting means that we will last forever. We never get outside of time; we live within time forever.

But, more than that, we will exist either in a state of everlasting joy and life, or in a state of everlasting destruction and death. The Scriptures (Matthew 25, Revelation 20) teach that at the end of history, Christ will return, raise the dead, and execute a final judgment. At that time, the righteous—body and soul—will enter into the Joy of God forever, and the wicked—body and soul—will enter into Misery forever. The common names for these two eternal destinies are Heaven and Hell.

I want to focus on two issues. One is a fear we have about Heaven and one is a concern we have about Hell. Our fear about Heaven is this: we worry that we will be bored. We know that we are promised unending joy, but we struggle to believe it because we fear that having “arrived” at Joy, Joy will grow old and stale to us. Our desires always outrun their satisfaction. Desire dies in its fulfillment. We get what we want, and we find that it’s not enough. And our repeated experience of this phenomenon, in every aspect of our lives, creates the fear in us that Heaven will be no different.

The great apostle had invested much of himself in the course of his ministry at Ephesus. It was one of his most successful ventures, and he had poured himself into it. He was about to let go, departing from them, commending them to God forever. This in-person farewell happened in the mid-50’s, and he wrote the book of Ephesians to them in the early 60’s. They stayed on his mind, in other words.