We come now to Luke’s account of the conversion of Saul of Tarsus. Remember that Saul is not his non-Christian name, but is rather his Hebrew name. Paul is his Roman name, not his Christian name. He goes by Saul for some years after this event. But such was the nature of this remarkable appearance that we still routinely refer to any surprising conversion as a Damascus road conversion. One moment Saul had murder on his mind, and a few moments later he was being led by the hand to the place where he would be baptized three days later.

Remember also that Saul of Tarsus was wound tight inside when the Lord appeared to him. The Lord had appeared to him directly, but the Lord had also done some preparation work in Saul’s heart beforehand through the faithful testimony of Stephen—how Stephen argued, how Stephen preached, and how Stephen died.

Many passages in the Bible speak of the glory of God’s creation. Psalm 19 says, “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.” Psalm 95 says, “The sea is his, for he made it, and his hands formed the dry land. Psalm 104 says, “How many are your works Lord! In wisdom you made them all; the earth is full of your creatures. There is the sea, vast and spacious, teeming with creatures beyond number—living things both large and small.” The first category we think of is nature. From the towering peaks of the Andes in Venezuela, to the great freshwater lakes of Michigan, to the parched sands of the Sahara the Lord has made a variety of breathtaking biomes for life to flourish in. The water cycle refreshes the earth with vitality. The seasons form a natural rhythm for life. The day and night cycle establishes periods of activity and rest. The stars and the moon give light by night. And the sun sheds its energy, light, and warmth by day.

Remember that the Lord had said the gospel would progress from Jerusalem to Judaea, to Samaria, and then to the uttermost parts of the earth. The books of Acts begins in Jerusalem. After the murder of Stephen, the disciples scatter into the province of Judaea, and also Samaria. Philip went to Samaria and ministered there. An angel then sends him into the wilderness toward Gaza, but does not tell him why. While there, Philip sees a chariot (and probably a caravan, given the importance of this man). As the gospel fans out across the world, this is the next stepping stone, and the word of the psalmist is fulfilled. 

“Princes shall come out of Egypt; Ethiopia shall soon stretch out her hands unto God” (Psalm 68:31). 

And as the next verse makes plain, Ethiopia is the harbinger of all the other nations coming to Christ. “Sing unto God, ye kingdoms of the earth; O sing praises unto the Lord; Selah” (Psalm 68:32).

Charles Spurgeon once offered a humble recommendation for how to defend the Bible. He kept it quite simple, “Let it defend itself.” His statement gets to the heart of our problem. We want to hold up the Word of God, forgetting that it holds us up. We want to cut with the Sword of the Spirit rather than have it cut us. We treat the sword like it is an inanimate object in need of the living to wield it. But our text says the word is alive and we are the ones in need of animation. We’re the ones in need of entering into rest, being prodded to enter that rest by the two-edged sword. 

After the apostles had laid hands on the seven men who were to help administer aid to the widows, two of those men come to the forefront as powerful preachers and miracle workers. We have considered the story of Stephen, who face his martyrdom with remarkable courage and grace. The story of Stephen ended with an introduction to Saul of Tarsus and his early persecuting career, but Luke’s main focus moves on to a second man among the seven, a man named Philip.

Now remember the “table of contents” from Acts 1. Jesus had said they would travel as His witnesses to Jerusalem, Judaea, Samaria, and then to the uttermost part of the earth (Acts 1:8). The Holy Spirit was poured out in Jerusalem (Acts 2:2-3), and all the early activity happened there. In the persecution that broke out after Stephen’s death, the believers scattered into Judaea and Samaria (Acts 8:1). And then follows Philip into Samaria (Acts 8:5). 

The early church father Tertullian once famously said that the “blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church.” This aphorism has been proven to be true in countless ways down throughout the history of the church. And the great Augustine made the same point: 

“The earth has been filled with the blood of the martyrs as with seed, and from that seed have sprung the crops of the church. They have asserted Christ’s cause more effectively when dead than when they were alive. They assert it today, they preach him today; their tongues are silent, their deeds echo round the world. They were arrested, bound, imprisoned, brought to trial, tortured, burned at the stake, stoned to death, run through, fed to wild beasts. In all their kinds of death they were jeered at as worthless, but ‘precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.’”

We have already looked at the overall theme of Stephen’s speech to the Sanhedrin, which is that God’s presence is not locked in a box somewhere. He is not a freeze-dried god, and not contained or bounded by anything that we might say, do, or think. Wherever God is, that place is holy. Whenever God is in fellowship with someone, that person is holy, that person is a saint. The filthiest dungeon could be holy ground, and a saint chained to the wall of that dungeon could be someone of whom the world was not worthy (Heb. 11: 38).

One of the hallmarks of worldliness is when the curators of museums subvert the legacies of the men they are ostensibly honoring. The Lord Jesus referred to this common pattern when He said that the men who build memorials to deceased prophets are the descendants of the men who murdered the prophets. As the stage is set for the martyrdom of Stephen, we see the very same dynamics in play.