‘But the Lord said to him, “Go, for he is a chosen instrument of mine to carry my name before the Gentiles and kings and the children of Israel.”’
Acts 9:15
There must be someone better qualified.
My guess is that most of us have had this feeling at some point. When we’ve started that new job. When we were picked for that sports team. When you got handed that assignment. When you walked out of the hospital for the first time with a newborn baby.
This feeling easily seeps too into our lives with God.
Surely there is someone more able? More holy? More experienced? More eloquent? More courageous? More attractive? More charismatic? More gifted?
There must be someone better qualified.
It’s a common human experience. History tells of those heroes and heroines who have most significantly altered the course of civilisation, and yet, every single time, when we dig a little deeper, we realise that they were flawed, complex, and imperfect. The Scriptures describe the same pattern—with everyone from Moses to Gideon to Jeremiah to Peter begging God to see their inadequacy for the purposes of God. Not old enough … not young enough … not eloquent enough … not important enough … not righteous enough … not significant enough…. It’s a human problem that has repeated since the dawn of the ages.
And yet both history and the Scriptures tell us the same thing, over and over and over again:
It is not the greatly able who alter the story; it is those who are willing.
The difference, it seems, between those who make the impact and those who don’t is the willingness. Things happen when the unqualified become willing, and do it anyway.
Our story today launches Saul (later to be called Paul)1 onto the stage of Christian history. It’s a turning moment for the world. Paul was the lead church planter into Asia Minor and Europe. Paul was the primary individuals through who the Good News of Jesus moved from being a marginal Jewish sect into being an intercultural movement that was going global. Without Paul, we lose much of Acts, there is no letter to the Romans, or the Corinthians, the Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians or Thessalonians. Without Paul we have no pastoral letters to Timothy, Titus, or Philemon.
But, as much as any other story that we’ve yet come across in the Bible, he’s wildly unsuitable.
Because Paul is a Pharisee.
This messes with us, because up until this point, we’ve been getting used to the tax collectors and sex workers and fishermen becoming disciples.
But the Pharisees have always been the bad guys. They’ve always been so blinded by their religion and rules and thirst for power that they were blind to the work of God. They were instrumental in the crucifixion of Jesus and obsessive in their critique of His ministry.
Push this a little further. Paul isn’t just any Pharisee. He’s the new young Pharisee hotshot, zealous to the core in his persecution of this emerging Christian movement. He’s the guy who looked after the coats while they were stoning Stephen to death, and has been on the hunt to end the lives of as many Christians as possible.
He’s spectacularly inappropriate.
And yet, this, and only this:
He is called.
‘You did not choose me,’ said Jesus, ‘but I chose you.’2
And here we find the beautiful interruption of our every protest against God including us in His purposes.
I’m too young. But you are called.
I’ve made too many mistakes. But you are called.
I’m not clever enough. But you are called.
I’m not as good as ____. But you are called.
Paul’s life spins around on this day. And his story sets a pattern for every other one of us, who would complain and protest and make our excuses before the God who calls us.
For all such excuses are marvellously less relevant that we think. For the Father is far less interested in how qualified or able you think you are. He simple needs our willingness.
For this is how the Kingdom advances. Not because we are qualified. Not because we are perfect. Not because we have great teeth and flat abs and scintillating abilities and a squeaky-clean religious record.
But, simply, always, and only, because we are
called.
Reflect:
Are there any places where I am avoiding His call on my life right now? What excuses am I making? What would obedience to His call look like?
Pray:
Lord Jesus,
Interrupt me.
When my feet are headed down a road that leads away from my calling;
Interrupt me.
When my ambitions are shrunk by my fears, insecurities, and words of deprecation;
Interrupt me.
When my zeal is misplaced and I am fighting the wrong battles;
Interrupt me.
When I aim for small and safe when you are calling me out and beyond;
Interrupt me.
Jesus, speak to this heart,
Lead me in your ways,
Let the scales fall from my eyes,
That this life may be a daily response to your call.
And that this life may be a heavenly interruption
Into a world headed for destruction
Without your interruption.
Lord Jesus, in Your Name,
Amen
Old Testament:
For those also reading the Old Testament this year, your additional readings are here:
Jeremiah 36-37 | Proverbs 20:20-30
Paul’s change of name comes a few chapters later (see Acts 13:9), as he switches from a Hebraic to a Greek name, as part of his first mission trip into Gentile regions.
John 15:16