He spent 17 years planting churches with his father in the Midwest—some still active today. He served in the Navy on Okinawa and Iwo Jima. He taught music at the collegiate level, then owned and managed a five and dime store, then a ranch, until he decided to make and sell frames after learning to build them for the paintings he created. He started a chorus and directed two major concerts a year for about a decade—one τέχνη (techne: craft, skill, trade) succeeding another until he successfully retired the world at 97. He was a Joseph without need for envy, pit, slave-trade, conspiracy, or prison to move him to his next assignment, his next opportunity.
Paul’s episodic, occasionally picaresque story moves him from one reconciliation to another: persecuting then received and restored by believers; at different times rejecting John Mark and Demas yet later calling John Mark his son, Demas very useful, and both fellow-laborers; after a sharp disagreement with him, he instructs the Colossians to receive Barnabas; after almost coming to blows with Peter about shunning Gentiles, Peter speaks of Paul as beloved brother. They are iterations of offense and forgiveness which must have appeared minor considering the apostle’s Gestalt-like transformation from Christianity’s most prominent adversary to its most prolific advocate.
New beginnings are as abundant as dawns and profound as conversion. Cleansing rains, clearing skies, descending doves, and a risen Savior all point to the universal truth that while the past is always present, it does not own it. Being yet imperfect, Paul forgets accomplishments and failures (often the same thing) to take each next step toward his call.
This week, may we restore, forgive, and renew as faithfully as God has regenerated, forgiven, and recreated us.