2/16/2025 My Chosen Vessel

Acts Lecture 44 - Sermon

Date: February 16, 2025

Title: My Chosen Vessel

Main Text: Acts 9:1-5

1 Saul was still breathing out threats and murder against the Lord’s disciples. He went to the high priest

2 and asked for letters to the synagogues in Damascus, so that if he found any who followed the Way, whether men or women, he might take them as prisoners to Jerusalem.

3 As he was traveling and approaching Damascus, suddenly a light from heaven shone around him.

4 He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?”

5 He asked, “Who are you, Lord?” He replied, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting.”

Saul appears once again in this passage.

Do you remember who he was?

He was the notorious young man who led the Jews in stoning Stephen, the first Christian martyr.

Acts 8:3

“But Saul began to destroy the church. Going from house to house, he dragged off both men and women and put them in prison.”

Stephen’s martyrdom caused many Christians to scatter throughout Judea and Samaria. When a person lives for the Lord, even their death holds meaning and shines eternally in the kingdom of God.

Saul ravaged the church, entering every house and dragging off believers to be imprisoned.

Verse 1 of today’s passage states that Saul was still breathing out threats and murder. This shows how excessively brutal he was in persecuting Christians.

He even put them to death. Let’s hear his own testimony.

Acts 22:4

“I persecuted the followers of this Way to their death, arresting both men and women and throwing them into prison.”

He was so zealous that he voluntarily went to the high priest and requested permission to travel over a week on foot to Damascus, just to capture those who followed the Way.

What drove him to abandon his own work and become so obsessed with persecuting Christians? Was it a sense of legalistic duty?

No, it was religious fanaticism.

He was possessed by a spirit that opposed God. Even as he murdered innocent people, he felt no guilt—he truly believed he was doing a holy work for Yahweh.

Did Jesus or His disciples ever use their power to instill fear, force belief, imprison, or punish those who did not accept the gospel?

No. When people rejected the gospel, Jesus simply said, “Shake the dust off your feet.” That was all.

Yet, there are those who demonize and attack people who have not yet accepted the gospel. No matter how many crosses they carry, no matter what titles they hold in the church—if they are acting in violent religious fervor, they do not belong to Jesus.

Among them, Saul was the worst. He relentlessly pursued God’s people, forcing them to flee their homes and live as refugees.

Then, as Saul neared Damascus, a brilliant light from heaven suddenly surrounded him.

The light was so intense that it nearly blinded him, and in fear, he fell to the ground.

Then he heard a voice:

Acts 9:4-5

4 He fell to the ground and heard a voice say to him, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?”

5 “Who are you, Lord?” Saul asked.

“I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting,” He replied.

Every time I reflect on this scene, I am deeply moved.

Jesus had never personally been persecuted by Saul. Yet, He said, “Why do you persecute me?”

Jesus identified Himself with the very people whom Saul had arrested, beaten, and killed. He declared that they were a part of Him, His own body.

Hurting them was the same as hurting Jesus. Inflicting pain on them meant inflicting pain on Jesus Himself.

Are you abiding in Christ?

1 Corinthians 12:26-27

26 If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it.

27 Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it.

Who later wrote these words? The very same Saul!

After encountering Jesus, he became part of the body of Christ and personally experienced what it meant to be united with Him.

Saul’s Three Days of Darkness

After this encounter, Saul was struck blind and spent three days in Damascus, neither eating nor drinking, only praying.

Imagine his inner turmoil. Outwardly, nothing was happening, but internally, he was in the midst of a storm.

He must have been thinking:

“What have I done? How could I have been so wrong?”

“Stephen was right. Jesus is truly the Messiah, the Son of David we had been waiting for.”

“All those people I imprisoned, all those I persecuted… They were the true children of God.”

“What have I done to them?”

The weight of his sins, the blood of the martyrs on his hands—it must have been unbearable.

Yet, at that moment, Jesus spoke to Ananias about Saul:

Acts 9:15

“But the Lord said to Ananias, ‘Go! This man is my chosen vessel to proclaim my name to the Gentiles and their kings and to the people of Israel.’”

To the very person who had killed His followers, Jesus now extended grace and called him “My chosen vessel.”

My Chosen Vessel

Previously, we studied how Jesus chose simple, ordinary people to be His disciples.

But this time, He chose someone far worse—an enemy, a persecutor, a murderer. Jesus transformed him and said, “He is my chosen vessel.”

God does not see as people see. Where we see a lost cause, God sees a vessel of grace.

If Jesus could turn Saul, the greatest enemy of the church, into Paul, the greatest apostle, then truly, no one is beyond God’s reach.

This is the amazing power of God’s grace.

No matter how broken, lost, or sinful a person may be, if Jesus calls them, they can become His chosen vessel.

Paul Continues to Be Raised Today

Lee Strobel, the author of The Case for Christ, which was also made into a book and a movie, was originally a journalist for The Chicago Tribune, a newspaper similar to The New York Times. Before he came to believe in Jesus, he described himself like this:

“I lived in a world without God, and I thought that was more realistic. I believed that faith in God was nothing more than a psychological crutch that people relied on in difficult times.”

However, his wife became a Christian after being evangelized by someone, and this made him increasingly uncomfortable. Feeling that his wife’s new faith was a threat to their family, he persistently argued against it and created conflict at home.

Eventually, he decided to use his skills as a journalist to uncover the truth about Jesus. He set out with the determination to expose Christianity as a baseless superstition, confident that he could quickly reveal its falsehood.

But as he investigated, the people he met and the evidence he encountered only led him into deeper confusion.

Finally, after 21 months of research, he made this confession:

“I set out to disprove Christianity, but I came to realize that rejecting Christianity actually required a greater ‘leap of faith.’”

With this realization, he accepted Jesus Christ as his Savior and Lord. He then became a writer and an evangelist for Jesus.

Hearing such stories makes my heart race.

Because I, too, was once one of those people.

Before I knew God, my life was a miserable cycle. When I achieved something and received recognition, I became arrogant, looking down on others. But in front of those who were more successful than me, I would shrink back in fear.

I also disliked churchgoers and even harassed them.

For example, when I was working in a company, I once attended a team dinner where a young subordinate refused to drink the alcohol I poured for him. In frustration, I asked, “Does your church feed you?” “Isn’t it your company that provides for you?” I pressured him to obey me, ignoring his beliefs.

After repeatedly refusing, he finally took a sip, got drunk quickly, and I found pleasure in watching him struggle. That was the kind of person I was.

If an employee’s performance suffered due to personal circumstances, I would tell them to quit without hesitation. I still remember one such employee leaving in tears, calling me a heartless and cruel person.

Yet, even to a person like me, the Lord came.

At that time, I spent about two weeks barely eating, standing blankly on the beach for hours every day, as if living in hell. But in the midst of that despair, I first came to realize that God is real. From that moment on, He drew me closer and led me all the way to where I am today.

That’s why there are many people from my past who would probably find it unbelievable that I am now a pastor.

But the reason I share this embarrassing story is simple—

to boast about my Lord.

The forgiveness of the Lord is not just a story in the Bible.

I want to testify about how He lifts a person from the depths of sin, washes them clean, and dresses them in new garments.

The world says that people never truly change.

But the Lord can. He can make someone completely new.

I am a witness to that, and I am still in that process today.

Now in my late 40s, my face has more wrinkles, and my gray hairs multiply every day.

But I don’t mind it. My body may age, but my soul grows clearer.

I am a better person today than I was when I first met Jesus in my late 20s.

I am becoming a more mature and complete person.

Isn’t that the privilege and blessing of Christians—

to breathe and live with the life of eternity?

A living being cannot remain stagnant.

During winter, trees may look dead, but beneath the soil, changes are happening.

Even those dark, bare branches, if observed closely, already carry winter buds—small buds preparing for spring.

When flowers bloom in spring, they display their beauty only for a short time.

But I find these winter buds even more precious and moving.

Don’t they look like they are wrapped in fur? If you touch them, they feel soft and warm—

as if God has clothed them in a cozy garment to protect them from the cold.

The more I come to know God,

the more I realize that His love is not only present in full bloom or in abundant fruit—

but also in the stillness of winter buds.

Such people can rejoice not only in moments of achievement

but also in the journey of preparation and practice.

However, if a Christian fails to understand this truth and only sees worldly success and accomplishments as proof of God’s love,

their life will inevitably be filled with misery.

Those Who Have Left God

The journalist Lee Strobel, now a Christian evangelist and author, once conducted an unforgettable interview. The man he spoke with was Charles Templeton, a Canadian preacher who was not only a co-laborer of Billy Graham but also the one who introduced Billy Graham to the world.

At one of his revival meetings in Evansville, Indiana, 90,000 people attended, even though the town’s total population was only 120,000. After his gathering, church attendance in the area increased by 17%.

He was once recognized by the National Association of Evangelicals as “the most promising evangelist being used by God.”

Templeton traveled the world with Billy Graham, preaching to hundreds of thousands. Every time he spoke, thousands of people accepted Christ in a single day.

Yet, over time, he began to have doubts about his faith. In 1957, he left Christianity entirely, and in 1996, he published his autobiographical book Farewell to God.

In his book, he wrote:

“If God designed this world, why do some creatures have fangs that crush bones and tear flesh, claws that grip and rip, venom that paralyzes, mouths that suck blood, and jaws that swallow prey whole? … Why is nature, as Tennyson described, ‘red in tooth and claw’? Life is a bloodbath.”

He ultimately reached this conclusion:

“How can an all-powerful and loving God create such horrific things as we have seriously examined?”

His struggles began as he traveled the world, witnessing different religions, natural disasters, poverty, and disease.

The well-known Bible verses we love to quote are easy to remember, like catchy headlines that inspire confidence and lead to conviction.

But if we don’t also know the countless other scriptures in between, we risk misunderstanding God.

If we build our entire perception of God on a handful of popular memory verses,

we will fail to grasp the depth and greatness of His love.

If we only understand God’s love as warm, gentle, and comforting, we will be unable to see how Stephen, who loved and obeyed God completely, was brutally stoned to death by his own people while God seemed to do nothing.

Looking back, those who stood in support of Stephen’s execution could not have imagined that God would go to unimaginable lengths to save someone like Saul—a man who, in their eyes, was nothing less than a devil.

Their first misunderstanding was this:

they only recognized love in its soft and tender forms.

After reading the testimonies of former pastors, theologians, and Christian writers who left the faith, I have noticed they all wrestled with similar inner conflicts.

First, they struggled with the existence of immense tragedies, like tsunamis that wipe out thousands of innocent people in an instant. If there is a loving God, how could such things happen?

Second, they were disillusioned by many Christians who seemed indifferent to suffering, lived without love or holiness, yet still confidently claimed they were saved and guaranteed eternal life.

These were the two main reasons they walked away from Christianity.

And these are serious, deeply valid concerns.

Sin has corrupted and distorted all of creation. Natural disasters, as well as monstrous individuals, have appeared throughout history without end.

But where do we draw the line on who is a monster?

By what standard do we define it?

Someone may be a savior to one person, yet an unforgivable source of pain to another.

Are they good or evil?

Who decides?

Even scripture teaches that God judges based on what each person has received:

“From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded.” (Luke 12:48)

Think of the two Koreas. Though separated by only a few kilometers,

what it means to believe in Jesus carries vastly different implications.

Even though they are the same people, sharing the same language under the same sky,

the faith required of them is not the same.

If God’s expectations are proportional to what has been given,

what score would we receive, having been given so much—living in a country like the United States?

The Golden Bell of Grace

Yet, there is something like a “Golden Bell” in God’s kingdom—

something that overturns every score and rewrites the results.

It is the work Jesus did for us.

Even the most wicked enemies—those who imprisoned and murdered Christians—

were offered a path to salvation through Jesus.

If we truly believe this,

if we have been reborn through the life of Jesus,

then following His word should naturally become our way of life.

And when we stray from it,

shouldn’t it feel as if something is terribly wrong?

Those who breathe with the life of Jesus should feel the greatest peace and joy when they walk in His ways.

And when they follow the ways of the world, shouldn’t their steps grow heavy?

Still, some may ask:

“Why does God allow monstrous people to remain and cause so much suffering?”

Perhaps Jesus would answer,

“That person, too, was created in the image of God. There is still hope. He is my chosen vessel.”

Templeton traveled the world preaching the gospel,

but in the end, he failed to realize that without Jesus,

he himself could become the very monster he despised.

The world is full of evil because of sinners—including ourselves.

Yet God, who longs to save even one more soul,

endures and waits with unfathomable patience.

But Templeton, failing to see this love,

eventually turned his back on God.

The same man who once shouted, “Come back to Jesus!”

ended up writing books that encouraged others to leave Christianity.

At the end of Billy Graham and Charles Templeton’s revival meetings,

they always invited people to come forward to accept Jesus.

Hundreds, even thousands, responded every time.

For some, that moment was their true salvation.

But the act of walking forward itself does not save anyone.

This is another grave misunderstanding.

A sinner’s prayer is not a magical formula that guarantees salvation just because someone repeats it.

If we are truly born again in Christ,

then the Holy Spirit must become like an umbilical cord,

connecting us to God through prayer.

And that is only the beginning.

We must continue to receive from Him,

sharing the details of our lives with Him in an ongoing, connected relationship.

“Lord, why? Why does that innocent person have to suffer? Can’t You do something? Can’t You make it right?”

“Lord, I can’t take it anymore because of that person! Please do something!”

This is how we seek the Lord in prayer!

And in most cases, rather than answering with clear words or audible sounds,

He pours His heart into ours—not through the ears, not through the intellect,

but directly into our spirit.

Sometimes, He tells us to share in the pain.

Other times, He assures us, “Do not worry. It’s all in My hands.”

Without this kind of intimate conversation with God,

it does not matter if thousands gather to hear our preaching—

our souls will only grow emptier.

But those who remain connected to the Holy Spirit,

even when speaking to just one person,

can see the infinite worth of that soul through the eyes of Christ.

Because He fills their hearts with His own.

Jesus called Saul “My chosen vessel.”

A vessel is meant to contain something.

To be Jesus’ vessel means to be filled with Him.

Saul became a vessel overflowing with the Spirit of Christ.

What about you?

Perhaps you have not seen a blinding light,

but have you ever experienced a moment where you could do nothing but fall to your knees in repentance?

A moment when the Lord embraced you like the father of the prodigal son,

without asking questions, without hesitation?

Was that connection with Jesus a past event?

Or is it still strong through worship and prayer today?

If so, He will call you too—

“My chosen vessel.”

What, then, is filling your vessel?

Many like Charles Templeton failed to understand that this world is meant to be a place where we experience both heaven and hell.

God desires that we learn to love heaven and hate hell with all our hearts.

Will you choose the kingdom of God today?

Let us pray.