05/31/2026
Acts continued
One of the most common things people say when they get to Acts is that God changed Saul's name to Paul after his conversion. It makes sense why people think that. Abram became Abraham. Sarai became Sarah. Simon became Peter. Those name changes were significant moments that marked a new chapter in God's plan. So when people read about Saul becoming the great missionary Paul, it's easy to assume the same thing happened here. The surprising part is that Scripture never actually records a moment where God changes Saul's name. There is no dramatic announcement, no ceremony, and no verse where God says, "From this day forward you will be called Paul." Instead, Acts 13:9 simply says, "But Saul, who was also called Paul..." (ESV). In other words, he already had both names. Luke just casually mentions it as though his readers already understand what is going on.
That actually made perfect sense in the world Saul lived in. Saul was born in Tarsus, a major city in the Roman Empire located in what is now modern-day Turkey. This wasn't some tiny little village where everyone knew everyone else's business and the biggest excitement of the week was somebody's goat wandering into the wrong field. Tarsus was a wealthy city known throughout the Roman world for education, philosophy, trade, and culture. Some historians even place it alongside cities like Athens and Alexandria as a center of learning. People from different backgrounds crossed paths there every day. Different languages were spoken. Different customs mixed together. If Jerusalem was deeply Jewish, Tarsus was a place where cultures constantly interacted. Saul grew up in that environment.
At the same time, Saul was thoroughly Jewish. He wasn't someone loosely connected to his faith. He studied under Gamaliel, one of the most respected rabbis of the day. He knew the Scriptures incredibly well. He knew Jewish law. He knew Jewish traditions. He knew the history of his people. When Paul later described himself as a "Hebrew of Hebrews," he wasn't exaggerating. This was a man who took his identity seriously. Yet he was also a Roman citizen, which was an enormous advantage in the ancient world. Later in Acts, a Roman commander is shocked to learn Paul was born a citizen because citizenship often cost a fortune. Some people spent years or even generations trying to gain what Paul had simply by birth. So from the very beginning, Saul lived in two worlds. He had a Hebrew name, Saul, and he had a Roman name, Paul. Same man. Same person. Same personality. Two names that reflected two different parts of his life.
What changes in Acts is not Saul's identity but the direction of his ministry. Early in the story, most of the action revolves around Jerusalem, Judea, and Jewish believers. Saul is interacting primarily with Jews, so Luke mostly calls him Saul. Then something begins to happen. The Gospel starts spreading beyond Jerusalem. Churches begin appearing in Gentile cities. Missionary journeys begin. The message of Jesus starts moving into the wider Roman world. As that happens, Luke begins using Paul more and more often. The man hasn't changed. The mission has. The story is expanding outward, and suddenly the Roman name becomes the one most often used because Paul is now spending much of his time among Gentiles throughout the Roman Empire.
Looking back, it's almost impossible not to see God's preparation in all of this. Long before Saul ever met Jesus on the Damascus Road, God was already putting pieces into place. He was born in a Roman city. He received Roman citizenship. He grew up understanding Gentile culture while remaining deeply rooted in Jewish teaching. He learned the Scriptures. He learned how to think. He learned how to debate. He learned how to communicate. Then years later, God took all of those pieces and used them. Nothing was wasted. Not his upbringing. Not his education. Not his citizenship. Not even the things Saul himself probably took for granted. It is almost like watching someone spend years gathering tools without realizing what they are eventually going to build.
The real miracle, though, was never that Saul was called Paul. The real miracle was that Saul became a follower of Jesus at all. This was the man who approved of Stephen's death. This was the man dragging believers from their homes. This was the man traveling to Damascus to arrest Christians. If the early church had been asked to nominate the least likely missionary in the Roman Empire, Saul would have been a strong contender. Nobody would have looked at him and said, "There's a future apostle." Nobody would have looked at him and said, "There's a man who will write a huge portion of the New Testament." Nobody would have looked at him and said, "There's someone God is going to use to help spread the Gospel across the Roman world." Yet that's exactly what God saw.
And maybe that is the most encouraging part of the story. God didn't throw Saul away and start over. He redeemed him. The same determination Saul once used to persecute Christians became determination to spread the Gospel. The same boldness that once made believers fear him became the boldness that allowed him to stand before governors, kings, philosophers, mobs, and prison guards and keep talking about Jesus. The same brilliant mind that once argued against Christ became one of the greatest tools for explaining Christ. Even his stubbornness remained largely intact, which honestly gives hope to some of us. God didn't need a completely different person. He transformed the one He already had.
Most of us are not waiting for God to give us a new name. We are hoping He can use the person we already are. We look at our flaws, our history, our mistakes, our limitations, and wonder whether God can do anything with them. Saul's story reminds us that God has always been remarkably good at taking ordinary people, complicated people, stubborn people, unlikely people, and using them in ways they never could have imagined. The story isn't really about Saul becoming Paul. It's about God taking the last person anyone expected and turning him into exactly the person He intended him to be all along.
