Paul’s Conversion: When God Finds Us

Readings: Acts 9:1-19a Preacher: Kevin Kim

After journeying through the Gospel of John over the past 16 weeks, we now turn to the New Testament book of Acts, where we see how the good news of Jesus begins to spread in powerful and unexpected ways. This Sunday, we begin with one of the most dramatic stories in Scripture—Paul’s conversion—where everything changes in a moment of interruption and encounter.

What if faith does not begin with us searching for God… but with God searching for us? What if the questions, restlessness, and disruptions we experience in life are not random, but moments where God is drawing near?

Join us as we reflect on how God meets us, often when we least expect it, and invites us into transformation. Whether you are full of faith, full of questions, or somewhere in between, you are warmly invited to come and discover how even life’s disturbances can become the doorway to something new.

Reflection Questions

1.
Are we searching for God, or is God searching for us?
How do you respond to this idea?
How might it reshape your understanding of faith?
Also read: Luke 19:1–10

2.
Paul was certain he was right, yet he was heading in the wrong direction.
Why is it sometimes hard to recognise when we might be mistaken?
What helps us stay open to God’s leading?
Also read: Proverbs 14:12

3.
The sermon speaks about “disturbance” — moments that unsettle or interrupt us.
What is something in your life right now that feels like a disturbance?
How are you making sense of it?
Also read: Hebrews 12:5–11

4.
Two people can experience the same moment, but respond differently.
What do you think shapes how we respond to what happens to us?
How can we grow in recognising when God may be at work?
Also read: 1 Samuel 3:1–10

5.
Paul’s encounter with Jesus changed his direction completely.
What might “a change of direction” look like in your life at this moment?
Also read: Acts 26:12–18

6.
Ananias was called to go to someone he feared.
Why do you think he hesitated?
When have you felt prompted to step into something uncomfortable for God?
Also read: Jonah 1:1–3

7.
Ananias calls Saul “Brother” before anything has changed outwardly.
What does this reveal about grace, acceptance, and how we see others?
Also read: Romans 15:7

8.
The sermon speaks about “spiritual support pillars”—moments that shape our faith.
Do you have a moment or experience that has deeply shaped your faith?
How does it continue to guide your life today?
Also read: Psalm 77:11–12

Sermon Text

Paul’s Conversion: When God Finds Us
Over the next few weeks, we are beginning a journey through the New Testament—especially the book of Acts—where we see how the good news of Jesus begins to spread in powerful and unexpected ways. Today, we begin with Paul’s conversion—a story of interruption and transformation, where God meets someone who was not looking for him. Next week, as we mark Anzac Day, we hear the story of Paul and Silas in prison, discovering hope and freedom even in the darkest places. Then we follow Paul into Athens, where the gospel engages with culture, questions, and unfamiliar beliefs.
From there, we move into Paul’s letter to the Philippians, reflecting on what it means to live with hope as a community shaped by Christ—learning to rejoice, to pray, and to trust even in uncertain times. And this journey will lead us toward Pentecost—that moment in Acts 2 when the Holy Spirit is poured out, not just on a few, but on all people—filling ordinary lives with extraordinary power, courage, and joy.
So as we walk through these weeks together, we are not just looking back on what God has done—we are opening ourselves to what God is still doing among us. And in the end, we are invited to consider what it truly means to live like Jesus—grounded in humility, obedience, and love—yet empowered by the Spirit, sent into the world as witnesses of hope, carrying the good news into every part of life.

When we turn to Acts chapter 9, let me begin with a question.
Are we the ones searching for God…
or is God the one searching for us?
It’s a simple question.
But if we sit with it long enough, it becomes deeply unsettling.
Because most of us assume that faith begins with us — our decision, our curiosity, our desire to seek something more.
We think: “I decided to come to church.”
“I decided to pray.”
“I decided to believe.”
But what if that’s not the full story?
What if, long before we ever made a move toward God…
God had already been moving toward us?

Let me bring it closer to home.
Think about your own life.
Not just the obvious moments—
but the quieter ones.
The unexpected interruptions.
The emotions that don’t quite make sense.
The questions that keep returning.
The restlessness that won’t settle.
The subtle unease you can’t quite explain.

What are those moments?
Are they just part of life?
Just coincidence?
Just the natural ups and downs of being human?
Or could it be…
that something—or Someone—is at work?

What if those moments—
those unsettling, uncomfortable, even disruptive moments—
are not random at all?
What if they are… a calling?
When we turn to Acts chapter 9, we encounter one of the most powerful and dramatic moments in all of Scripture—the conversion of Paul.
But the story does not begin where we might expect.
Paul is not searching for God.
He is not spiritually curious.
He is not open.
He is not exploring faith.
In fact, he is moving in the opposite direction.
He is on the road to Damascus,
driven by conviction, by certainty, by fierce determination.
He is going there with a clear purpose:
to arrest Christians.
to shut down what he is certain is dangerous,
and to defend what he believes is the truth.
And here is the irony.
Paul believes he is serving God. He believes he is right. He is confident.
He is committed.
He is sincere.
And yet… he is completely wrong.

And then, everything changes.
Without warning, a light from heaven flashes around him.
He falls to the ground.
And he hears a voice:
“Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?”

Let’s not rush past this moment.
Because this is not a gradual realization.
This is not a gentle push.
This is interruption. This is disruption.

This is God breaking into a life that was going in the wrong direction.
Paul did not go looking for Jesus.
Jesus came looking for Paul.
And in that moment, Paul asks one question:
“Who are you, Lord?”
And the answer comes:
“I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting.”

That single moment dismantles everything.
All his certainty collapses.
His identity—formed through years of training under Gamaliel, one of the most respected and influential teachers of the Pharisees —begins to come undone.
His confidence in his own righteousness is shattered. His understanding of God is overturned. And then something even more striking happens. He becomes blind. He cannot see.
He cannot eat. He cannot move forward.
For three days, he sits in darkness.

This is not a comforting experience.
This is not what we would describe as a “nice spiritual moment.”
This is collapse.
And this leads us to a deeply important question:
Why do some people change…
while others do not?
Because Paul is not alone on that road.
There are others with him.
They experience something.
They hear something.
They witness something.
But only Paul is transformed. Why?

The answer is this: what we make of it.
Not experience… but interpretation.
Two people can go through the same moment—
one walks away unchanged,
the other is completely transformed.
One says, “That was nothing.”
Another says, “That was God.”
The difference is not what happened.
The difference is what we make of what happened.

And this is where transformation begins.
Let me give you one word today.
A word that I believe captures the heart of this passage. Disturbance.
Not just a feeling. Not just an emotion.
But something that shakes you.
Something that disrupts your sense of stability.
Something that unsettles your assumptions.
Something that refuses to be ignored.

It might come through failure.
It might come through a broken relationship.
It might come through a deep sense of emptiness.
It might come through a question that keeps returning.

But whatever form it takes,
it disturbs you.
And here is the question we must ask:
What do we do with that disturbance?
Do we dismiss it? Do we explain it away?
Do we push it down and move on?
Or do we pause… and pay attention?

“What is this?”
“What is happening in me?”
“What might God be doing here?”
We often misunderstand the nature of faith.
We think faith is about comfort.
About peace. About feeling good.
We look for what we might call a “touch”—
a warm moment, a meaningful experience, a sense of reassurance.
And those moments matter.
But they are not the whole story.
Because in Acts 9, Paul is not gently touched.
He is disturbed. He is knocked down.
He is blinded. He is undone.
And this reveals something important.
God is not only interested in comforting us.
God is interested in transforming us.
And transformation often begins…
with disturbance.
But here is where it becomes challenging.
Not everyone who experiences disturbance is changed.
Because disturbance alone is not enough.
There is a process:
Disturbance → what we make of it → Response → Transformation
And many people never move beyond the first step.
Some suppress it.
“It’s nothing. Just a passing thing.”
Some explain it away.
“It’s just stress. Just in my head.”
Some delay it.
“I’ll think about it later.”
Some selectively accept it.
“I like the comfort, but not the change.”
And some resist it entirely.
“I refuse to go there.”

So the real question becomes:
What are we making of what we experience?
Let me bring in another story.
Not Paul this time—
but someone much closer to our modern world. C. S. Lewis.
Lewis did not believe in God.
He was thoughtful, intellectual, deeply rational. And he resisted faith.
Not because he hadn’t considered it—
but because he didn’t want it to be true.

But something began to happen in his life.
Questions began to surface.
Persistent questions.
Why do we long for meaning?
Why do we desire goodness?
Why does nothing in this world fully satisfy?
He tried to explain them away.
He tried to suppress them.
But they did not disappear.
They grew stronger.

He later said: “I was running away.”
But the more he ran,
the more something kept drawing closer.
He described it as an “unrelenting approach.”
And eventually, he reached a point where he could no longer resist.
He said:
“I am the most reluctant convert in all England.”
No blinding light. No audible voice.
No dramatic fall to the ground.
And yet… something was there.
Disturbance.
Paul’s experience was sudden and overwhelming.
Lewis’s experience was quiet and persistent.
But the structure is the same.
God moves first.
Something disturbs us.
And we are invited to respond.
And now we come back to us.
Because this is not just a story from 2,000 years ago.
This is not just a story about great figures of faith.
This may be your story.

Is there something in your life right now that keeps returning?
A question you cannot shake.
A feeling you cannot ignore.
A situation that keeps repeating itself.
Something you’ve tried to push away—
but it won’t go away.

What if that is not just a problem?
What if that is a disturbance?
And what if that disturbance…
is God?
The question is not whether God is at work.
The question is what we make of what is happening.
Is it coincidence? Is it stress?
Is it just life?
Or is it… a calling?
When Paul encounters Jesus,
he asks: “Lord, who are you?”
That question changes everything.
Because it opens him to the possibility
that what he is experiencing
is not random— but relational.
So let me ask you:
What is shaking your life right now?
And what are you making of it??

Because what you make of it will shape your response.
And your response will shape your direction.
And your direction will shape your life.
Faith begins here.
Not in certainty. Not in control.
But in disturbance.
God comes first. We respond.
Change does not begin with experience.
It begins with interpretation.
The form may differ for each of us—but the structure remains the same.
And ultimately,
it is direction that determines life.
Paul’s direction changed completely.
From persecutor… to apostle.
From resistance… to mission.
This is conversion.
Not simply a change in belief—
but a change in direction.
So here are three questions we must hold:
What has disturbed me?
What have I made of it?
Where am I going now?
Because conversion is not always a single moment.
As Lewis R. Rambo reminds us,
it is often a process.
A journey shaped by context, crisis, searching, encounter, relationship, commitment, and consequence.
We see this in history:
In Peter the Apostle—through failure and restoration.
He was called by Jesus. He walked with Him.
He followed Him.
And yet… at his darkest hour—
he denies Him. Not once. But three times.

And still… on the shore, after the resurrection, Jesus comes back to him.
Not with condemnation.
Not with rejection.
But with a question: “Do you love me?”
And in that moment—
Peter is restored. And called again:
“Feed my sheep.”
In Augustine of Hippo—through deep inner struggle.
A searching mind. A restless heart.
Years of wrestling— with desire,
with identity, with meaning.
Never quite at peace.

Until one day…a child’s voice:
“Take and read.”
He opens Scripture.
And in that quiet moment—
his restless heart…
finally finds its home in God.
In Martin Luther—through theological awakening.
Burdened. By guilt. By fear.
Trying to earn God’s favour.
Trying to be enough.
Wrestling with one question:
“How can I be saved?”
And then— in Romans— he sees it.
Righteousness… is not achieved.
It is received. By grace.
And that moment…
changes everything. Not just his life—
but the course of history.

In John Wesley—through assurance of the heart.
Religious. Disciplined. Faithful on the outside.
And yet… uncertain within.

Until one evening— he listens.
Words being read.
And suddenly…
his heart is “strangely warmed.”
And he knows— Christ has saved him.
Personally.
Different paths. Same transformation.
And in every one of these stories, the same truth echoes—God finds us, often when we are not looking for him.
And in the end, these moments become what Viktor Frankl calls
“spiritual support pillars.”
Moments that hold us.
Moments we return to.
Moments that define our direction.
For Paul, it was this encounter.
He tells it again and again—
because it shaped everything.
And that leads us to ask:
Do you have a spiritual support pillar?
A moment… a disturbance…
an encounter…
that has shaped your life?

But the story does not end with Paul.
Because when God finds someone,
He rarely leaves them alone. In Acts 9, we are introduced to another person in the story—Ananias.
He is not well-known.
He is not a leader like Paul.
He is simply described as a disciple in Damascus.
And yet, God speaks to him.
“Ananias.” And he responds with a simple, open heart: “Here I am, Lord.”

Then God gives him a very specific, very uncomfortable instruction:
“Go to the house of Judas… and lay your hands on Saul.”

And Ananias hesitates. “Lord… I have heard about this man.”
“I know what he has done.”
“He has come here with authority to arrest people like me.”
This is not just fear. This is a real, reasonable concern.
Saul is dangerous. Saul is a threat.
Saul is the last person Ananias would choose to go to.

But God says something remarkable: “Go. This man is my chosen instrument.”

And in that moment, Ananias has a choice. Will he trust what he knows about Saul?
Or will he trust what God says about Saul?
And he goes.
He walks into the house.
He approaches the man everyone fears.
And he places his hands on him.
And the first words he speaks are astonishing: “Brother Saul…”

Not enemy. Not persecutor. Not threat.
Brother.
In that one word, everything changes.
Because Paul is not only found by God on the road—
he is welcomed into the family through Ananias.
He is not only interrupted—he is restored.
He is not only blinded—he is helped to see again.
Scripture tells us that something like scales fall from his eyes.
He regains his sight.
He is filled with the Holy Spirit.
He is baptised.
He begins a completely new direction.

And this is important for us to see.
When God finds us,
He does not just meet us personally—
He often sends someone to us.
Someone to pray for us.
Someone to speak truth to us.
Someone to call us “brother” or “sister”
when we cannot yet see it ourselves.
And sometimes,
we are called to be that person for someone else.

God shakes us, not to undo us, but to remake us.
And in those moments of disturbance—when things feel uncertain, when questions linger, when our confidence begins to crack—we may actually be standing at the doorway of transformation.
But this story reminds us of something more.
When God finds us,
He does not leave us in isolation.
He meets us…
and then He places us into relationship.
He sends people into our lives—
sometimes unexpected, sometimes uncomfortable—
to help us see, to help us heal, to help us take the next step.
And He also calls us to go—
like Ananias—
to step into someone else’s story,
to trust what God is doing in them,
even when we do not fully understand it.

So when your life is shaken,
don’t rush past it.
Don’t silence it.
Don’t explain it away too quickly.
Pause… and listen.
Because it may be in that very moment
that God is nearer than you think—
calling you, inviting you,
and gently asking you to turn toward Him.
And it may also be that God is preparing someone
to walk alongside you…
or calling you to walk alongside someone else.

Because when God finds us,
He transforms us—
and then he sends us.
And perhaps the most honest, faithful response we can offer is simply this:
“Lord… who are you?”
Amen.