“Drama Queens” and “Crazymakers.” You know the people. They are the ones who blow everything out of proportion and make sure that the entirety of existence revolves around them. And the effect is that they drive everyone around them crazy.

As we well know, the arena of religion is certainly not immune to its share of these crazymakers. You know them too. One minute you’re talking about a relatively simple issue, such as: “So, how do you celebrate Communion?” The next minute you are talking about apostasy, the next minute heresy, and then on to how Satan has deceived so many and doomed them to the tortures of an eternity in hell. Well, isn’t that special. There’s a reason crazymakers make us crazy. Especially in the realm of religion.

For the most part religious crazymakers are, while admittedly of questionable spiritual health, for the most part benign. However, there is always a potential danger there. That is when simple zeal moves toward religious abuse.

Many will point out that religious abuse permeates Christian history. And they are right. Fantasy and delusion have led to the demise of many in the name of Christ. The story that abusive Christian crazymakers tell is quite the drama really. This world is immersed in a cosmic war in which they are participating when they carry out their own acts apocalyptic visions of judgment and terror. They’re actively saving the world from evil. They’re holding back the power of Satan. And they may even kill to make it happen. The story in which they participate is so grand that it is beyond comprehension of the unenlightened.

Drama, drama, drama, drama, drama. Sometimes, it seems there’s just a little too much drama in the world. Especially when it comes to religious crazymakers.

Stories to Live By

Even though the excessive drama of even the benign religious crazymakers is really hard to handle at times, not all drama is bad. In fact, there are many versions of drama, or story, that are very, very good for us. Good dramas, good stories enrich us as human beings. They tell us about ourselves so we can grow.

And the stories that we find in the Bible take us even one step further: they don’t just help us to understand ourselves, but help us to understand ourselves and our God with whom we are in relationship.

Now, there are a variety of ways to read our sacred texts. One approach is to read them in order to learn names and places, events and customs. We can learn about the interaction of characters and plot devices. This is all really cool stuff. And when we engage the texts in this way, we encounter really good stories.

But there is another way to approach the texts. That is with the intent to encounter more of ourselves and our God. This is a much more challenging approach, for whenever we approach the texts in this way, we do so not from a position of strength that seeks to master the text, but from a position of vulnerability that seeks to be mastered by the text. We are open in a way that allows the texts to reveal who we are in the story and challenges us to examine our relationship with the divine in order to experience deeper intimacy in the Spirit. This approach is far less about “learning” in the traditional sense, and far more about “transformational encounter.” And when we engage the texts in this way, we are no longer just learning a good story; we are encountering nothing less than “Scripture.”

Dichotomies

One of the ways that the stories in the Bible invite us into transformational encounter is to present to us image-driven personified dichotomies. In other words, as we read the texts, we see the struggle between the opposites of light and darkness, truth and lie, life and death, good and evil. These are dichotomies. And the challengers in this struggle are people like you and I. Sometimes, as is the case in today’s readings from Acts, this dichotomy is presented within the very history of a single individual.

Today, we meet Saul, who is Paul. As I refer to Saul and Paul, for simplicity’s sake I am going to talk about Saul as the pre-conversion Paul, and Paul as the post-conversion Saul. But, in the overall story, it is, of course, one and the same person.

I find it really interesting to see how the Book of Acts compares the two: Saul and Paul. And I think that the best part of this dichotomy is that both of them are really doing the same thing. They are both on a mission from God. They are both proclaiming God’s sovereignty. And the fascinating part is…how things change after the conversion experience.

Pre-Conversion Saul

On the one hand we have Saul. Notice quickly that Saul is portrayed as lurking in the shadows. That signals to us that whatever he represents is going to be very, very bad. And it may be that the thing that is highlighted here as very, very bad is his conception of God. And we can see what his image of God is, because that is the image that he bears, the image that he reflects.

The image of God that Saul seems to hold to is one of an overbearing, tyrannical parent who is on a divine ego-trip. And when that ego-trip isn’t fed, when people don’t follow the rules just because they are told to, then wrath is sure to follow. Saul’s vision of God seems to be that of a vengeful, abusive, fickle, and indeed childish omnipotent being. His appointed mission then, is to bring this God to the people, whether they want it or not. His vision of holiness demands it.

Remember the story and the darkness therein? The imagery that surrounds Saul is meant to say something to the reader: The god whom Saul proclaims isn’t the God of the Hebrews. Indeed, that god doesn’t exist at all. Saul’s god is a lie. And to worship that God is to engage in nothing less than idolatry. The imagery of darkness signals the way of the lie, the way of death. The texts reveal Saul as being nothing less than a mini version of the prince of darkness.

Post-Conversion Paul

On the other hand, we have Paul. It appears as though Paul has had a religious experience that reveals something about the nature of the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob that changes everything.

After his conversion, we see that the one primarily responsible for Stephen’s murder is now carrying out Stephen’s mission. How ironic is that? Now Paul is now the foremost agent of light.

In his story, he goes into the Aereopagus in Athens, a symbolic place which draws our minds the thought “Ah, Athens! The philosophers’ haven.” And when Paul goes to the altar of the “Unknown God,” perhaps it is Socrates who should come to mind. You see, Socrates, a Greek philosopher, believed that the High God of the universe was really the power of Love. But being the High God of the universe, this ultimate God was also ultimately unknowable. And so, the God of Socrates was called “The Unknown God.”

Could it be that Paul was saying to the Athenians…

“See this idol. It testifies to a God who is Love. This God is true. But, it also says that the God who is Love is ultimately unknowable. That is why I am here, to tell you that the God whom you’ve been worshiping here, this God of Love, is truly knowable. Let me tell you how that is so, let me tell you the story of Jesus of Nazareth, whom we call ‘Christ.’”

The philosopher’s god of Love as testified to by an idol does indeed exist and is true, while the terrible, ego-maniacal god of Saul doesn’t exist at all and its worship is idolatry.

Doesn’t the irony pour right off the page? Isn’t this just great stuff?

Putting Them Together

Saul and Paul both have very different conceptions of God. Saul’s god is born of his own ego. It is the product of his desires. It is the extension of the wounds that he has been carrying with him. It is the manifestation of his anger and frustrations. The negative energy that he carries with him…that’s the god whom this idolatrous one worships.

Paul, on the other hand, is totally grounded in the Easter experience. He has experienced the loving grace of Christ and is filled with the Holy Spirit. As a result, he is not on a mission to bring God to the ignorant people (as Saul is), but rather he is all about looking to see where the God who is love is already at work in the lives of people, and it is his mission to help them strengthen their already present divine connection. Two different conceptions of God lead to two different approaches to the same mission.

Acts is Our Story

Isn’t it absolutely beautiful how the story in Acts portrays the spiritual life. We have light and dark, truth and lie, beatific Paul and deviant Saul. And woven into the fabric of it all, irony. It’s a truly magnificent story.

But as we pull back, we are reminded once again that this is really the story of a single person. And that single person can be called…“me,” or “you.” This is not just the story of Saul who is Paul, but this is our story, the story of our becoming as Christians who are continually dying to self and rising in Christ. Yes, as we read the story of Saul who is Paul, we encounter ourselves, whether we want to or not.

On the one hand, we resonate with and are inspired by Paul. We want to be truly spiritual people. We want to be fully attuned to God and God’s movement in the world around us. We want to be truly aware and passionately engaged on the divine mission. We want to herald of the God who is justice-oriented, other-centered, self-giving Love. And to a certain extent we truly are there. We are the bearers of light into this world. Paul’s story is our story. We find ourselves therein.

But so too is Saul’s. We dare not deny that his story is a part of the fabric of our lives. We can try to live in that denial, but we will be reminded when the darkness surfaces.

Yes, Saul too is real in our lives and makes his presence know anytime we look upon the face of Christ and hear his call to discipleship and reject it in one way or another, saying…

I will not serve others first.
I will not bend knee to them in love.
I will not die to self.

I will be safe.
I will be secure.
I will be powerful.

I will rule!

Yes, we know Saul when we tend our own selves, to the sacrifice of others. We live Saul’s story when we physically, emotionally, or spiritually abuse others because it makes us feel good in the midst of feeling bad. And all that negative energy, it certainly has a way of blowing everything out of proportion and threatening the fabric of life itself, potentially turning us all into crazymakers in one form or another.

Welcome to Good Drama

Drama, drama, drama, drama, drama. This world’s just full of drama isn’t it? The drama of literature. The drama of film. The drama of our lives. And, yes, even the excessive drama of crazymakers and drama queens.

But sometimes drama isn’t that bad. Sometimes drama is good for us. Especially when it is the drama that connects us with ourselves and our God. Indeed, when the drama reveals to us our God in whom we live and move and have our being, and when it draws us into greater depths of intimacy with the divine, the drama for us becomes Scripture. And where there is Scripture, there is new life.