PAUL — THE REDEEMED TERRORIST

A Modern Parable of Misplaced Adoration and Misplaced Outrage

There are moments in Scripture when the Holy Spirit holds up a mirror, not to the ancient world, but to ours. And if we dare to look long enough, we begin to see that the human heart has not evolved. The crowds have not changed. The impulses of nations have not matured. The reflexes of mobs remain the same. And the pattern of misplaced adoration and misplaced outrage continues its ancient march through modern streets.

One of the clearest mirrors is the story of a man named Saul — a man the early church feared, avoided, whispered about, and prayed against. Scripture does not soften his reputation. It says plainly:

“Saul was breathing out threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord.” (Acts 9:1)

He was, by every definition of the word, a violent persecutor — a man who terrorized the early believers, dragging men and women from their homes, scattering the church, and standing proudly as Stephen was stoned. If the early church had a “most wanted” list, Saul’s face would have been on it.

And yet… God looked at this man and said something no one expected:

“He is a chosen vessel unto Me.” (Acts 9:15)

The crowd saw a threat. God saw an apostle. The believers saw a destroyer. God saw a deliverer. The church saw a terrorist. God saw a teacher of nations.

This is the scandal of grace — the holy reversal that confounds human judgment. God did not destroy Saul. He redeemed him. He did not silence him. He sent him. He did not judge him. He transformed him.

And the people who once feared him… now feared the change in him.


THE CROWD STILL CHOOSES THE WRONG HERO

This is not the only time Scripture exposes the crowd’s blindness. In the Gospels, we see a moment so shocking it still echoes through history:

“Whom will ye that I release unto you? Barabbas, or Jesus which is called Christ?” (Matthew 27:17)

Barabbas was an insurrectionist, a murderer, a man who used violence to achieve his aims. Jesus was innocent, healing, restoring, teaching, and revealing the Kingdom.

And yet the crowd cried:

“Give us Barabbas!” (John 18:40)

And then:

“Crucify Him!” (Mark 15:13)

The innocent was condemned. The guilty was embraced. The Prince of Peace was rejected. The man of violence was celebrated.

Nothing has changed.

Humanity still prefers the familiar rebel over the unfamiliar redeemer. We still cheer for the one who fights like us and crucify the one who convicts us. We still misread the moment, misjudge the messenger, and misunderstand the mission.


THE AGE‑OLD DICHOTOMY: MISPLACED ADORATION AND MISPLACED EVISCERATION

This is the pattern:

  • We adore the wrong savior.
  • We attack the right one.
  • We embrace the loudest voice.
  • We reject the truest voice.
  • We defend the one who mirrors our anger.
  • We crucify the one who exposes our corruption.

The crowd still chooses Barabbas. The crowd still fears Paul. The crowd still stones the very one God sends to deliver them.

And this is where the parable becomes painfully modern.

We live in a time when public figures are judged not by truth but by tribal instinct. When reformers are labeled threats. When disruptors are treated as dangers. When the one exposing corruption is attacked more fiercely than the corruption itself. When the one calling for repentance is treated as the enemy of the people.

This is not new. This is not political. This is biblical anthropology — the study of the human heart in rebellion against God.


THE PARABLE FOR OUR TIME

So here is the parable, written in the language of Scripture but speaking to the age we live in:

There was once a man the people feared. They whispered his name with dread. They warned their children about him. They prayed God would stop him.

And God did — but not the way they expected.

He did not strike him down. He struck him awake. He did not silence him. He sent him. He did not judge him. He justified him.

And the people who once feared him now feared the change in him.

They trusted the old version — the one who fit their narrative. They distrusted the new version — the one who fit God’s purpose.

Meanwhile, the crowd still adored the wrong hero. They still cheered for the Barabbas spirit — the one who fought like them, hated like them, and reflected their rage back at them.

But the redeemed man? The transformed one? The one God raised up to expose what others refused to see?

They tore him apart with the same stones they once saved for the Christ.

Because nothing has changed.

The crowd still calls Barabbas’ name,
Still trembles at Paul’s transformed flame.
They misread signs, the hour’s true face,
Yet God still lifts the unlikely in grace,
To stand against shadows,
to challenge disgrace.
Amen.

Where Did You Park Your God?

Group of robed people holding torches worshipping a large golden calf statue outdoors at night

An Editorial on the Golden Calf of Convenience

There is a question every believer must eventually face, though most spend their entire lives avoiding it: Where did you park your God this week? Did you leave Him in the pew last Sunday, waiting for you like a forgotten coat? Did you leave Him in the car until next weekend, tucked between the fast‑food wrappers and the worship playlist? Do you wear Him around your neck like jewelry, a symbol of faith that never reaches the heart? Or did you leave Him at the altar because He asked too much of you?

The uncomfortable truth is that many believers do not worship the God of Scripture. They worship a manageable version of Him—one they can carry, control, schedule, and silence. A God who stays where they put Him. A God who never disrupts their plans. A God who fits neatly into their routine. A God who never calls them higher. A God who never confronts their idols. A God who never demands ascent.

The God of Scripture Does Not Fit in Your Pocket

The God of Scripture is not manageable. He is not containable. He is not portable. He is not a charm, a token, or a Sunday accessory. He is the God who calls His people upward, not downward. He is the God who says, “Come up to Me on the mountain and stay there.” [Exodus 24:12] He is the God who descends in fire and thunder, whose presence makes the earth tremble and the people tremble with it. He is the God who cannot be shaped, reduced, or domesticated.

And that is precisely why Israel built a golden calf.

Why Israel Built a Golden Calf

They did not build it because they wanted a new god. They built it because they refused to ascend to the real One. Scripture says, “When the people saw that Moses delayed to come down from the mountain, the people gathered themselves together to Aaron and said to him, ‘Up, make us gods who shall go before us.’” [Exodus 32:1] They did not want the mountain. They did not want the fire. They did not want the voice. They did not want the holiness. They did not want the transformation.

They wanted a god who stayed at ground level, a god who did not call them higher, a god who did not demand surrender.

So they dragged God down to their level and shaped Him into something familiar.

The Modern Golden Calf

Modern believers do the same every weekend. They do not ascend to God; they reshape Him into something they can manage. They fashion a god who fits their preferences, their comfort, their tradition, their schedule. They worship a god who never confronts them, never convicts them, never calls them to repentance, never demands holiness, never interrupts their service order, and never asks them to bow in total surrender. They worship a god who fits in their pocket, not a God who fills the heavens.

This is why modern worship feels hollow. This is why the atmosphere is thin. This is why the posture of the people reveals the absence of the presence.

The Posture That Reveals the Presence

When God truly appears, people do not stand casually with their hands in their pockets. They do not scroll their phones. They do not sip coffee. They do not whisper to their neighbor. They fall. They tremble. They bow. They collapse under the weight of glory.

Scripture says, “The priests could not stand to minister because of the cloud, for the glory of the Lord filled the house of the Lord.” [1 Kings 8:11] When Isaiah saw the Lord, he cried, “Woe is me! For I am undone.” [Isaiah 6:5] When Ezekiel saw Him, he said, “I fell on my face.” [Ezekiel 1:28] When John saw Him, he wrote, “I fell at His feet as though dead.” [Revelation 1:17]

The posture tells the truth. If the people never bow, the presence never came.

The Tragedy of a Manageable God

The tragedy is that many believers think they are worshiping God when they are actually worshiping a golden calf—polished, emotional, musical, familiar, and entirely manageable. They sing Scripture songs and hymns, but they do not expect an encounter. They raise their hands, but they do not surrender their hearts. They attend services, but they do not ascend the mountain. They honor Him with their lips, but their hearts remain far from Him. Jesus Himself said, “This people honors Me with their lips, but their heart is far from Me.” [Matthew 15:8]

And like Israel, they keep looking back. They look back to tradition, not necessarily because it is holy, but because it is familiar. They look back to the “way we’ve always done it,” even when the way they’ve always done it has never produced transformation. They look back to predictable worship, predictable sermons, predictable routines. They look back to Egypt, not because Egypt was good, but because Egypt was known. Scripture says, “They said to one another, ‘Let us choose a leader and go back to Egypt.’” [Numbers 14:4]

Once You Cross the Jordan, You Cannot Go Back

The Promised Land is for those who move forward, not for those who cling to the past. The wilderness is full of people who never crossed because they never stopped looking back. Scripture says, “All the men who had seen My glory and My signs… yet have tested Me these ten times… shall not see the land that I swore to give to their fathers.” [Numbers 14:22–23] They died with manna on their breath and Egypt in their hearts. They lived on survival when God offered inheritance.

And this is the indictment of the modern church: Most believers never cross the Jordan because they never stop looking back. They cling to tradition, routine, predictability, and familiarity. They cling to a god they can manage. They cling to a worship they can control. They cling to a faith that never demands ascent. They cling to a golden calf because the mountain terrifies them.

The God Who Calls Us Higher

But the God of Scripture is not a god you can park. He is not a god you can schedule. He is not a god you can carry. He is the God who carries you. He is the God who calls you upward. He is the God who says, “Consecrate yourselves, for tomorrow the Lord will do wonders among you.” [Joshua 3:5] He is the God who says, “You shall have no other gods before Me.” [Exodus 20:3] He is the God who says, “Be holy, for I am holy.” [1 Peter 1:16] He is the God who says, “Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you.” [James 4:8]

A God you can carry is not a God who can carry you. A God who fits in your schedule is not the God who parted the sea. A God who stays where you left Him is not the God of Scripture.

And if your God never calls you higher, you are not worshiping Him. You are worshiping a golden calf.