Paul’s Conversion

January 25, 2022
Feast of the Conversion of Saint Paul, Apostle

Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, we read about Paul’s “enlightening” ride on the road to Damascus. I have blogged about the feast several times, and you can access one of those blogs if you wish by searching on the right-hand side of the webpage.

Caravaggio – The Conversion of St. Paul

Before my own prayer today, I read a masterful poem by John Keble and listened to beautiful music by Felix Mendelssohn. I’d like to share them with you for today’s reflection.

Poetry: The Conversion of St. Paul – John Keble, an English churchman and poet, one of the leaders of the Oxford Movement. Keble College, Oxford, was named after him.

And he fell to the earth, and heard a voice saying unto him,
Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou Me? 
And he said, Who art Thou, Lord? 
And the Lord said, I am Jesus whom thou persecutest. 
Acts ix. 4, 5. (KJV)

The mid-day sun, with fiercest glare,
Broods o’er the hazy twinkling air:   
Along the level sand
The palm-tree’s shade unwavering lies,
Just as thy towers, Damascus, rise   
To greet you wearied band.

The leader of that martial crew
Seems bent some mighty deed to do,   
So steadily he speeds,
With lips firm closed and fixèd eye,
Like warrior when the fight is nigh,   
Nor talk nor landscape heeds.

What sudden blaze is round him poured,
As though all Heaven’s refulgent hoard  
 In one rich glory shone?
One moment—and to earth he falls:
What voice his inmost heart appalls?—   
Voice heard by him alone.

For to the rest both words and form
Seem lost in lightning and in storm,   
While Saul, in wakeful trance,
Sees deep within that dazzling field
His persecuted Lord revealed,   
With keen yet pitying glance:

And hears time meek upbraiding call
As gently on his spirit fall,   
As if th’ Almighty Son
Were prisoner yet in this dark earth,
Nor had proclaimed His royal birth,   
Nor His great power begun.

“Ah! wherefore persecut’st thou Me?
”He heard and saw, and sought to free   
His strained eyes from the sight:
But Heaven’s high magic bound it there,
Still gazing, though untaught to bear   
Th’ insufferable light.

“Who art Thou, Lord?” he falters forth:—
So shall Sin ask of heaven and earth   
At the last awful day.
“When did we see Thee suffering nigh,
And passed Thee with unheeding eye?   
Great God of judgment, say!”

Ah! little dream our listless eyes
What glorious presence they despise,   
While, in our noon of life,
To power or fame we rudely press.—
Christ is at hand, to scorn or bless,   
Christ suffers in our strife.

And though heaven’s gate long since have closed,
And our dear Lord in bliss reposed,   
High above mortal ken,
To every ear in every land
(Thought meek ears only understand)   
He speaks as he did then.

“Ah! wherefore persecute ye Me?’
Tis hard, ye so in love should be   
With your own endless woe.
Know, though at God’s right hand I live,
I feel each wound ye reckless give   
To the least saint below.

“I in your care My brethren left,
Not willing ye should be bereft   
Of waiting on your Lord.
The meanest offering ye can make—
A drop of water—for love’s sake,   
In Heaven, be sure, is stored.”

O by those gentle tones and dear,
When thou hast stayed our wild career,   
Thou only hope of souls,
Ne’er let us cast one look behind,
But in the thought of Jesus find   
What every thought controls.
As to Thy last Apostle’s heart
Thy lightning glance did then impart  
Zeal’s never-dying fire,
So teach us on Thy shrine to lay
Our hearts, and let them day by day  
Intenser blaze and higher.
And as each mild and winning note
(Like pulses that round harp-strings float   
When the full strain is o’er)
Left lingering on his inward ear
Music, that taught, as death drew near,   
Love’s lesson more and more:

So, as we walk our earthly round,
Still may the echo of that sound   
Be in our memory stored
“Christians! behold your happy state:
Christ is in these, who round you wait;   
Make much of your dear Lord!”

Music: Paulus – Felix Mendelssohn – the Overture from the Oratorio

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