"Transformed in Community"
Acts 9:1-20
Rev. Emily Labrecque, Westmoreland UCC
May 17, 2026
Today, we conclude our series on Life in Community. We have waded through the first 9 chapters of the book of Acts exploring various ways of being in community. Beginning with baptism and our inherent belovedness, we also explored what it means to truly share our abundance, be challenged by the marginalized people in our midst, how to embrace our individual gifts and calls to leadership, and last week explored how we can show grace upon grace even in the face of betrayal.
This week we round out our series with Transformation. One way to think about transformation, as we heard in verse one of our opening hymn, is through the seemingly linear changes of caterpillar to cocoon to butterfly; or seed to sapling to tree; or winter to spring.
But our story today shows us a different type of transformation. And honestly, Luke is a great storyteller, but he really leaves out quite a few details and it’s a darn shame because I have so many questions about everything that happened. But let’s look at this passage given what we have been told.
Saul was a man on a mission. Just a couple chapters ago, he was standing watch over the people who executed Stephen, the first martyr of the faith. Saul wasn’t just a bystander; he “approved of their killing him.” Saul was painted in the book of Acts as a top persecutor, focused on ruining the community that had come to be called The Way. As one commentator puts it, “Saul is mad – his religion is being co-opted. The people who used to listen to his sermons in synagogue are drifting away to worship in small groups at home. Folks who used to be zealous for law and ritual centralized in the temple and within Judaism, are also now eating a fellowship meal, being baptized, and learning unfamiliar songs.”[1] And so Saul requests arrest warrants from the Chief Priest to help throw these people in jail with the ultimate goal of killing them so they no longer hurt his cause. His righteous indignation is not a good look.
Followers of The Way have heard about Saul. They know what he’s done to their friends and community. They felt afraid and powerless, they were angry and sad. We can hear it in Ananias’ voice: “You can’t be serious ... Everyone’s talking about the horrible things he’s done. And now he’s got arrest warrants! None of us are safe and you want me to go face him?” He has every reason to believe Saul will come for him too.
But that was about to change.
As Saul approached the outskirts of Damascus, he was blinded by a flash of light and he fell to the ground. “Saul, why are you out to get me?” This question changed everything for Saul. His persecution of the disciples was actually the persecution of the same God he stood for. Being a faithful Jew, that certainly wasn’t what he was going for. So in an instant he loses his ability to see, and retreats to Damascus where, remaining blind, he also does not eat or drink for days.
This story conjures a very specific visual for me. Prompted by the poem I shared at the beginning of our staff meeting several months back, we started talking about the concept of change. It quickly turned to the notion of molting and shedding of skin. Our resident reptile expert, Julia, our Office Manager, shared an interesting fact about snakes. Snakes give me the heebie jeebies so I’ll be quick. Snakes don’t have eyelids, but they do have ocular scales called eye caps. As the snake grows, the outer layer of skin, including the eye cap, becomes tight and worn. Before shedding, a lubricating fluid builds up between the old and new eye cap causing the snake to lose their vision. Then a new eye cap forms underneath the old one and also necessitates the removal of the old layer. The ocular scale is important because its shedding aids in removing any impurities, parasites, or other issues so the snake, once the scales fall from its eyes, can actually see more clearly.
Just as the snakes lose their vision so they can heal, so do did Saul. In the meantime, in our passage, we face another transformation.
While Saul is in Damascus, God calls out to Ananias. and asks him to go find Saul and lay his hands on him, granting him the Holy Spirit so he could go and preach and teach to the masses. But Ananias, as we heard, was not having it. Even being in Saul’s presence could bring a death sentence. Why would he go and do that? What was he to do with this request that asks him to risk his life? God was asking him to do something about which he felt righteously stubborn. What could God possibly have in mind?
But God is unrelenting and reveals, as our opening hymn said, “something only God alone [could] see”: a different future for Saul. Finally, Ananias relents and goes on his way. After laying his hands on Saul, scales fall from his eyes and he can see. He nourishes himself and goes on his way.
“The [transformations of both] Saul and Ananias invite us to ponder how we will look at our own world when God takes our ‘no way’ and our ‘we’ve never done that before’ and transforms them into ‘yes.’”[2]
Rarely are these kinds of transformations linear. We do not simply move from spring to summer – as we have seen with the crazy weather we’ve been having. We do not simply go from No to Yes. Transformation is a winding journey of anger and protestations, of prayer and discernment, of listening to God and acting in ways we couldn’t have imagined.
We live this reality in our church life, don’t we? As we face decisions we have to make as a community, we may come to them with a firm hold on our perspective. We may think we know the right answer. Our fear of the unknown can get in the way of seeing the bigger picture. But our story today reminds us that the God of transformation is the God of all of us. And all of us are given opportunities to grow and change and transform in ways we never thought possible.
And here's what strikes me about that moment. Ananias didn't just say yes for himself. His obedience is what brought Paul – the Paul who would write half the New Testament, the Paul who would carry the gospel across the known world – into the community of The Way. One person's frightened, reluctant, faithful yes changed everything.
That is what community does. We have spent nine weeks together in the book of Acts watching this unfold – the sharing, the gifts, the grace after betrayal. And what we see, again and again, is that no one transforms alone. Saul needed Ananias. Ananias needed God's persistence. And the community of The Way needed both of them to say yes.
Unlike Saul, the scales probably won’t fall from our eyes all at once, or even over three days. Transformation takes time; it takes prayer and discernment, bumping up against old beliefs and embracing new possibilities. It is not always easy or comfortable. But we can be assured that beyond that period of discomfort is a transformation that “only God alone can see” because God is indeed present in the midst of it all so that a new way may be revealed in us and through us.
Amen.
