The manifestation of Jesus subdued the great man into a little child. He inquires, with sacred curiosity, “Who art Thou, Lord?” and then surrenders at discretion, crying, “What wilt Thou have me to do?”
I. The earnest inquirer seeking to know his Lord.
1. He is not only willing to learn, but he is eager to be taught. If men were but anxious to understand the truth, they would soon learn it and receive it.
2. The subject he wished to be taught. You have heard that Christ is the Saviour, let your ambition be to know all about Him. Saints on earth, and even saints in heaven, are always wanting to have this question more fully answered, “Who art Thou, Lord?”
(1) What is Thy person? Learn well that He is man, thy brother, touched with the feelings of thy infirmities, yet is He God eternal, infinite, full of all power and majesty.
(2) What are Thy offices? He is a Prophet; thou must be instructed by Him. He is a Priest; He has offered sacrifice, and thou must accept it as being for thee. He is a King, and thou must let Him govern thee.
(3) What are Thy relationships? The Son of the Highest, and yet the brother of the lowest. King of angels and of kings, and yet the friend of sinners.
3. What were the results of having this question answered?
(1) When Paul knew that He whose face had shone upon him brighter than the sun was Jesus of Nazareth, he was seized with contrition. When Christ is unknown we can go on refusing and even persecuting Him; but when we clearly perceive that it is the Son of God and the bleeding Lamb whom we have refused and persecuted, then our hearts melt; we beg His forgiveness, and cast ourselves at His feet.
(2) Hope was encouraged, for though Paul at the sight of the Lord Jesus must have been full of bitter anguish, it was by that same sight that he was afterwards comforted. Art Thou He who came to seek and to save that which was lost? Then is there hope for me. Oh, then, I will trust Him.
(3) It led him to complete submission. He said, “Is this Christ whom I have rejected Lord of all? Then it is indeed hard for me to kick against the pricks. If all power be in His hands, then to oppose Him is as hopeless as it is wicked. O Lord Jesus, be my king.” Some human leaders have had such extraordinary influence over their soldiery that they have been cheerfully obeyed, even at the cost of life. The Christ of God has a superlative power over all hearts that know Him. See how Paul felt His influence, and scoured the world to win Christ’s lost ones.
4. He sought instruction from the best possible Master; for who can tell us who Christ is but Christ Himself? Here is His book. It is the looking glass. Jesus is yonder, and He looks into it, and you may see His reflected image; darkly, however, at the best. So, too, when you hear His faithful servants preach you may see somewhat of Christ; but there is no sight of Christ like that which comes personally to your own soul by the Holy Spirit.
II. The obedient disciple requesting direction. “Whosoever believeth in Jesus has everlasting life” is the basis doctrine of the gospel; but you may not believe in Him and then live as you like. Hence the question, “Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?” The apostle here puts himself into the position of a soldier waiting for orders. He will not stir till he has received his officer’s command. Before it used to be, “What will Moses have me to do?” And with some now present it has been, “What should I like to do?” Now take heed that Christ be your Master, and nobody else. It would never do to say, “What would the Church have me to do?” nor even “What would an apostle have me to do?” Paul said, “Be ye followers of me, even as I am also of Christ.” But if Paul does not follow Christ, we must not follow Paul. “Though we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel, let him be accursed.” “One is your Master, even Christ.” This obedience is--
1. Personal. I have little enough to do with my neighbours. They have their duty; but, Lord, what wouldst Thou have me to do? Other persons must follow the light they have; but, Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do? Let it separate the nearest ties, let it cause your past friends to give you the cold shoulder, let it subject you to persecution even unto death; you have nothing to do with these consequences, your business is to say, “Show me what Thou wouldst have me to do, and I will do it.” Note again--
2. Prompt. He does not ask to be allowed a little delay. If you would have salvation, you must be ready to follow Christ tonight. Tonight, it may be, is the time when the Spirit of God is struggling with you, and if resisted He never may return.
3. Unconditional. Saul little knew what the doing of his Master’s will would involve, but he was prepared for it. Oh, you that would be Christians, do not suppose that it is just believing something--an article of a creed, or undergoing a ceremony--that will save you; you must, if you are Christ’s, yield yourselves up to Him. Conclusion: It is by knowing Christ that you will learn to obey Him, and the more you obey Him the more easy it will be: and in obeying Him you will find your honour. Paul at this day stands in a most honourable place in the Church of God, simply because being called of God to do His will he did it faithfully even to the end. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
It is hard for thee to kick against the pricks.--
The ways of sin hard and difficult
You often hear of the narrow and rugged road which leadeth unto life; and some of you, I am afraid, have not courage enough to venture upon it. You rather choose the smooth, broad, downhill road, though it leads to death. It must be owned, that a religious life is a course of difficulties, and it is fit you should be honestly informed of it; but then it is fit you should also know that it is disagreeable and difficult only as a course of action is difficult to the sick, though it affords pleasure to those that are well. There are difficulties in the way of sin, as well as in that of holiness, though the depravity of mankind renders them insensible of it. It may be easy and pleasing to you to sin, just as it is easy to a dead body to rot, or pleasing to a leper to rub his sores. If it be hard, in one sense, to live a life of holiness, it is certainly hard, in another sense, to live a life of sin; namely, to run against conscience, reason, honour, interest, and all the strong and endearing obligations you are under to God, to mankind, and to yourselves.
I. Is it not a hard thing to be an unbeliever, while the light of the gospel shines around us with full blaze of evidence. Before a man can work up himself to the disbelief of a religion attended with such evidence, and inspiring such Divine dispositions and exalted hopes, what absurdities must he embrace! what strong convictions must he resist! what tremendous doubts must he struggle with! what glorious hopes must he resign! what violence must be offered to conscience! what care must be used to shut up all the avenues of serious thought, and harden the heart against the terrors of death and the supreme tribunal! How painful to reject the balm the gospel provides to heal a broken heart and a bleeding conscience, and the various helps and advantages it furnishes us with to obtain Divine favour and everlasting happiness! How hard to work up the mind to believe that Jesus was an impostor, or at best a moral philosopher! or that the religion of the Bible is the contrivance of artful and wicked men! These are no easy things. There are many sceptics and smatterers in infidelity, but few, very few, are able to make thorough work of it. Such men find the arms of their own reason often against them, and their own conscience forms violent insurrections in favour of religion; so that whatever they pretend, they believe and tremble too. They find it hard, even now, to kick against the goads: how much harder they will find it in the issue! Christianity will live when they are dead and damned, according to its sentence. Infidels may hurt themselves by opposing it; as an unruly stupid ox, their proper emblem, may hurt himself, but not the goads, by kicking against them.
II. Is it not hard foe men to profess themselves believers and assent to the truth of Christianity and “yet live as if they were infidels? If you believe Christianity--
1. You believe that there is a God of infinite excellency; the Maker, Preserver, Benefactor, and ruler of the world, and of you in particular. How, then, can you withhold your love from Him, and ungratefully refuse obedience? Is not this a hard thing? Does it not cost you some labour to reconcile your consciences to it? This would not be easy to the mightiest archangel. And if it be easy to you, it is in the same sense that it is easy to a dead body to rot. Your strength to do evil is your real weakness, or the strength of your disease.
2. You believe the doctrine of redemption through Jesus Christ. And is it no difficulty to neglect Him, to dishonour Him, to slight His love and disobey His commands? Does not at least a spark of gratitude sometimes kindle which you find it hard to quench entirely? Does not conscience often take up arms in the cause of its Lord, and do you not find it hard to quell the insurrection? Alas! if you find little or no difficulty in treating the blessed Jesus with neglect, it shows that you are giants in iniquity, and sin with the strength of a devil.
3. You must believe that holiness is essentially to constitute you a real Christian, and prepare you for everlasting happiness. And while you have this conviction, is it not a hard thing for you to be only Christians in name, or self-condemned hypocrites? Is it an easy thing to you to keep your eyes always shut against the light, which would show you to yourselves in your true colours?
4. You believe in a future state of rewards and punishments. And since you love yourselves, and have a strong desire of pleasure and horror of pain, how can you reconcile yourselves to the thoughts of giving up your portion in heaven, and being engulfed forever in the infernal pit?
III. Is it not hard for a man to live in a constant conflict with himself? I mean with his conscience. When the sinner would continue his career to hell, conscience, like the cherubim at the gates of paradise, or the angel in Balaam’s road, meets him with his flaming sword, and turns every way, to guard the dreadful entrance into the chambers of death. The life of the sinner is a warfare, as well as that of the Christian. Conscience is his enemy, always disturbing him; that is, he himself is an enemy to himself, while he continues an enemy to God. Some, indeed, by repeated violences, stun their conscience, and it seems to lie still. But this is a conquest fatal to the conquerors.
IV. Is it not hard for you to deprive yourselves of the exalted pleasures of religion? Is not this doing violence to the innate principle of self-love and desire of happiness? Can you be so stupid as to imagine that the world, or sin, or anything that can come in competition with religion, can be of equal or comparable advantage to you? Sure your own reason must give in its verdict in favour of religion. And is it not a hard thing for you to act against your own reason, against your highest and immortal interest, and against your own innate desire of happiness?(S. Davies, A. M.)
Kicking against the pricks
This expression is highly characteristic of the Saviour--
1. From its figurative form. While He was on earth, without a parable spake He not unto the people; and speaking out of heaven He still adopts the parabolic style, as He did in Patmos. He does not say to Saul, “It is injurious to thee to resist My appeals,” that would be mere abstract fact, but He puts it more pictorially, “It is hard for thee to kick against the pricks.”
2. From the tenderness of the rebuke. It is not, “It is wicked of thee to resist Me.” The Saviour leaves Saul’s conscience to say that; nor “It is hard for My people to bear thy cruelties”; nor “It is very provoking to Me, and I shall ere long smite thee in My wrath.” No, it is not, “It is hard for Me,” but “It is hard for thee.” We have in the parable of the text--
I. An ox. No other beast is driven by a goad.
1. “How low is man fallen that he can be compared to a brute beast!” “Oh,” saith the proud heart, “cloth God compare me to a beast?” Ah! and it is the beast which hath cause to complain rather than you; for what beast is that who has rebelled against God? Do not be angry, for if you knew yourself you would cry with Asaph, “So foolish was I and ignorant, I was as a beast before Thee.” Penitent sinners have wished that they had been beasts rather than men, feeling as if sin had degraded their nature below the meanest reptile.
2. But courage! The ox is a valuable animal. The text does not liken a man to a wild beast without an owner, but to an ox for which its master careth, and for which he hath paid a price. “I,” says Jesus, “whom Thou persecutest, redeemed thee, with My own precious blood; thou art Mine, and I will break thee in. Why dost thou kick against Me? I have paid for thee too dearly to let thee be lost.”
3. The ox is dependent upon its master for the supply of its needs. “The ox knoweth its owner.” Thou, who art an enemy to God, dost thou not know that thou art the object of His daily providence? We have been worse than oxen. We have not known the hand that feeds us, but have kicked against the God from whom all our mercies have been flowing.
4. An ox is a creature of which service is rightly demanded. So does God expect of those creatures whose wants He supplies that they should do His bidding. Wherefore should God keep them, and they do Him no service? For if He gets nothing out of thee, He will not forever spare thee. The bullock which is not good for its master in the furrows shall soon be good for the butcher in the shambles.
5. The ox is a perverse creature, not easily made accustomed to the yoke. Hence the rough and cruel instrument used by the Eastern husbandman--a long stick with a sharp prong at the end. Ah, how perverse are our wills! We will not go in the right way; we choose the wrong naturally. We go to the fire of sin, and we put our finger in it, and we burn it; but we do not learn better; we then thrust our hands into it, and though we suffer for it we return and plunge our arm into the flame.
6. Yet the ox is a creature which can be of great service to its master. When it becomes docile, it is one of the most valuable possessions of the Oriental husbandman. And when once the brutish heart of man is conquered by Divine grace, of what use he is.
II. The ox goad. A cruel instrument, but one thought by the Oriental husbandman to be needful for the stubborn nature of the ox. God has many ways of goading us, but He does not use that where gentler means will avail. I should think that a kind man would speak to his ox, and might get it into such a condition that it would be obedient to his word. Now God does bring His people into such a state as that. God does not come to blows with men till He has first tried words with them. Before the tree is cut down there is a time of sparing, in which it is digged about if haply it may bring forth fruit. But when words are of no avail, then the Lord in tender mercy adopts sharper means, and comes from words to blows and wounds--that He may come in all His power to heal.
1. Some of us felt the ox goad when we were children. Under the government of our parents we were often very restive, and felt it hard to sin.
2. Since that time some of you have felt the irksome goad in the good advice of friends with whom you have been situated. You do not like to be talked to about religion.
3. The teachings of God’s Word acts like a goad to unconverted men. I have known people come in here, and the sermon has made them feel so angry that they could almost have knocked the preacher down, but yet they could not help coming again. They could not tell why, but they could not stop away; and yet they hated the truth they heard. When a man thinks enough about the truth to begin to fight against it, I am in hope that the truth will never let him go till it has fairly beaten him into better things.
4. At times the Lord will goad us by personal afflictions; a sickness, a failure in business, a loss of property, a disappointment in marriage, or the death of friends, or a gradual decay of the constitution, or the loss of a limb or an eye. Loud voices these, if men had ears to hear. Some of you have had so many afflictions that the Lord might well inquire, “Why should ye be stricken any more? ye will revolt more and more.”
5. Sometimes God stirs men with the common operations of the Holy Ghost in their consciences. Saul was being goaded at that very moment when Christ said, “Why persecutest thou Me?” And take care you do not resist these goadings. “See that ye refuse not Him that speaketh. For if they escaped not,” etc.
III. The kicks. The ox when wounded is so foolish as to dash its foot against the goad, and consequently drives it deeper into himself and hurts himself the more. This is the natural manner of men till God makes something more than beasts of them.
1. Even when we were children we rebelled against our teachers; prayer was distasteful, the Sabbath was dull, and the house of God wearisome, and therefore we kicked against them.
2. As some of you grow up, you took to sneering at those who kindly advised you. Many, the moment they get a word of counsel from any person, treat him at once as an enemy, and vow that they will take no further notice of such a “cant.” Many sinners when the Word of God is too hot for them, take to cavilling at it, or disputing over it. A man who is reproved by a sermon will perhaps feel that he must give up his drunkenness. “But,” say she, “I will not give up my drunkenness; I do not want to do that, and therefore I do not believe that the sermon is true.” Or another says, “If this is correct, I must shut up my shop on the Sunday, and so lose my Sunday’s profits. I cannot afford to lose money, and therefore I will abuse the preacher.” The guilty conscience cries, “I will pick a hole in the minister’s coat, because he has found one in mine.”
3. There are many who persecute God’s people. They cannot burn them, nor shut them up in prison; but they vex them with cruel mockings, they twist their innocent actions into something wrong, and then they throw it in their teeth.
4. Certain profane men have gone so far as to kick at God Himself. Mind that He does not answer you, blasphemer.
IV. The result. Christ says, “It is hard.” It has been very hard for your mother, for your families, for your neighbours and employers; Christ says it is hard for you. You know that sin does not make you happy. You have had your swing of it, and you are miserable. You are afraid to die. Do you know what will very likely be your history if you run into sin and persist in it? You will make your present afflictions grow worse, and cause your present losses to accumulate. You are kicking against the pricks, and are making the wounds already received ten times worse, and so it always will be so long as you keep on kicking. He that is converted to God finds it hard to have been a sinner so long. His repentance is bitter in proportion to the greatness of his sin. Those who are saved late in life feel that their sins will be their plague till they die. A man does not go and plunge into the ditch of sin without bearing the stench of its vileness in his memory all his life. An old song that you used to sing will come up and defile your closet prayers, and perhaps the recollection of some unholy scene will trouble you even when you are at the sacramental table. The apostle Paul always bore the memory of his sin. “God forgives me,” said one, “but I never can forgive myself.”
V. The good counsel.
1. Since it is hard for you to kick against the pricks, and there is nothing to be got by it, cease.
2. Yield thy heart to the goadings of Divine love. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
Saul’s goads
The figure of speech is borrowed from a custom of Eastern countries: the ox driver wields a long pole, at the end of which is fixed a piece of sharpened iron, with which he urges the animal to go on or stand still or change its course; and, if it is refractory, it kicks against the goad, injuring and infuriating itself with the wounds it receives. This is a vivid picture of a man wounded and tortured by compunctions of conscience. There was something in him rebelling against the course of inhumanity on which he was embarked, and suggesting that he was fighting against God. It is not difficult to conceive when these doubts arose. He was the scholar of Gamaliel, the advocate of humanity and tolerance, who had counselled the Sanhedrin to leave the Christians alone. He was himself too young yet to have hardened his heart to all the disagreeables of such ghastly work. Highly strung as was his religious zeal, nature could not but speak out at last. But probably his compunctions were chiefly awakened by the character and behaviour of the Christians. He had heard the noble defence of Stephen, and seen his face in the council chamber shining like that of an angel. He had seen him kneeling on the field of execution and praying for his murderers. Doubtless, in the course of the persecution he had witnessed many similar scenes. Did these people look like enemies of God? As he entered their homes to drag them forth to prison, he got glimpses of their social life. Could such spectacles of purity and love be products of the powers of darkness? Did not the serenity with which his victims went to meet their fate look like the very peace which he had long been sighing for in vain? Their arguments, too, must have told on a mind like his. He had heard Stephen proving from the Scriptures that it behoved the Messiah to suffer; and the general tenor of the earliest Christian apologetic assures us that many of the accused must on their trial have appealed to passages like the fifty-third of Isaiah, where a career is predicted for the Messiah startlingly like that of Jesus of Nazareth. He heard incidents of Christ’s life from their lips which betokened a personage very different from the picture sketched for him by his Pharisaic informants; and the sayings of their Master which the Christians quoted did not sound like the utterances of the fanatic he conceived Jesus to have been!(J. Stalker, D. D.)
