The small group I belong to is reading through Philippians and last week we marvelled at Paul’s perspective on life, particularly suffering. Imprisoned for his gospel witness (Philippians 1:13), Paul rejoices (1:18). Why? Because his imprisonment had advanced the gospel (1:12); borne witness to the imperial guard (1:13; 4:22); and emboldened others in their own proclamation of Christ (1:14). In fact, Paul even rejoices in the envious preaching of his rivals (1:15-17). Designed to exasperate Paul’s situation and driven by selfish ambition, Paul would’ve been forgiven for denouncing them. Yet he writes, “whether in pretence or in truth, Christ is proclaimed, and in that I rejoice” (1:18). All of this answers the why question: Paul’s circumstances—however miserable—meant Christ’s glory. But it also raises another: how? How do we obtain the same delight in God and his gospel, despite hardship?

Put another way, what enabled Paul to so uncompromisingly order his life and loves? How was he able to gladly suffer for Christ, the gospel and other believers? Is it even possible for us to imitate him in these ways? Could you or I look around cold, dark prison cell and rejoice in knowing that our hardship meant others might also come to know Christ as a result of it? I can’t answer for you—but I’m not so sure about myself. So we come back to the question of how? How was Paul able to live in such a radically God-centred, gospel prioritising way?

Does Damascus Set Paul Apart?

Discussing the question we wondered if it was simply supernatural, that Paul was especially empowered by the Holy Spirit. Possible, however this would suggest that Paul was endowed with God’s Spirit in a way other believers are not—something that doesn’t appear to be taught in the New Testament. Another proposal was that Paul’s words are little more than bluster, bent presenting him as some kind of super-apostle. This, however, is difficult to square with his repeated celebrations of God’s strength being revealed through his own weaknesses, hardly the words of an ambitious man desirous of acclaim.

But what about Paul’s conversion experience, someone asked. It was relatively spectacular, even by apostolic era standards. So we discussed whether Paul’s dramatic, phenomena laden encounter with Christ on the road to Damascus enabled his remarkable commitment to Christ, regardless of the personal cost. As I wrote a few years ago about Damascus Road experiences, “Most of us read this account in Acts and think: ‘No wonder Saul turned his life around. I mean, if Jesus confronted me like that while travelling the N2 between Cape Town and Durban I’d also give my life to making him known.’” So does this arresting encounter with the risen and ascended Christ explain Paul’s perspective? Is this what enabled him to endure terrible suffering with unwavering delight in Christ?

It’s a sentiment I can fully sympathise with, but I don’t think it’s the solution or answer to our question. For while we can’t absolutely say that Damascus didn’t furnish the untimely apostle with extraordinary resolve, the remainder of the New Testament doesn’t seem to bear that out.

Paul Makes Much of His Conversion, Not Damascus

For starters, as far as I can tell Paul only mentions his Damascus experience once across his written corpus (Galatians 1:17). It does come up once in his preaching (Acts 22). But apart from those two instances, Paul makes no recourse to his remarkable conversion story. On the other hand, Paul routinely describes his conversion in other terms. These other terms shouldn’t be deemed any less spectacular than what we read about in Acts 9.

Just consider Paul’s language concerning his conversion in Philippians, since that’s where this thought started. After cataloging all of his reasons for confidence in the flesh (3:4-6), Paul writes: “whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ.Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him” (3:7-9).

A few things are worth noting about that passage. Firstly, Paul says that simply knowing Jesus after he’s made us his own is of surpassing worth (see 3:12). This is why, secondly, none of the things Paul previously placed high stock in matter. Encountering Christ redefined his identity and reordered his priorities—this is true whether Jesus blinds you on a road outside of Damascus or in an unadorned, unspectacular manner. Thirdly, suffering for Christ’s sake—indeed losing all those things once held dear—is now framed within gaining Christ and being found in him. As he puts it earlier in the epistle, “To live is Christ, and to die is gain” (1:21).

It’s true, Paul experienced something few of us will ever know. So many of us pine after something similar. Perhaps then we’d be fully convinced and fearlessly committed. Then again, Peter saw incredible miracles during Jesus’ earthly ministry and ended up denying Christ three times. Witnessing wonders doesn’t lead to uncompromising witness. At the same time, something we tend to forget, Paul went through the same thing every believer knows—in their jellies, as Pikachu: Pet Detective puts it—righteousness through faith (3:9); the power of his resurrection (3:10); and the promise of our own (3:11).

Remember God’s Spectacular Work in Your Life

“Forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus” (3:13-14). We can do the same. We can imitate Paul as he follows after Christ. Not because we’ve seen all that he did, but because we know the same sweet experience that he had. You’ve had your own Damascus; don’t forget it.