Sermon: Conversion of Paul | Sunday 25 January 2026

Preacher:

Chris Hollingshurst

Date:

Sunday 25th January 2026

Venue:

Guildford Cathedral

Service:

9.45 Cathedral Eucharist

Church history is full of conversions, where an individual’s life takes a particular course before arriving at a place where the person course comes to believe and starts to live very differently. From the first apostles to Nicodemus, from Lydia to Cornelius, from Augustine to Ignatius Loyola, from John Newman to the Wesleys, from Gloria Gaynor to Cliff Richard – and even to this preacher and probably others here today – conversion counts.

Conversion can be sudden or gradual, unseen or dramatic, although if the Scriptural account is to be believed, perhaps none has been as dramatic as that of Saul of Tarsus.  Saul - a man so re-oriented by the experience that he even embraces a new name – no longer Saul, but now Paul. Indeed, the stuff of Paul’s conversion has dripped deeply into our language and culture. We hear tales of blinding insights, of scales falling from the eyes, and of Damascus Road experiences, with the words being applied in all sorts of situations.

Of course what we are interested in this morning is a religious conversion, one which involves both turning away from a past life and turning afresh toward God, an interior and total transformation of the person. For if conversion is authentic and lasting, it makes a difference to others and not just us.

There is so much to be gleaned from Paul’s conversion but, this morning, I want to ponder on two main things.

The first is the place that Saul’s conversion played in his life as a whole.

My first job as a vicar was in suburban south-west London, to the parish of St Paul’s Hook, located between Chessington and Surbiton. It’s an unprepossessing place, described by my late brother-in-law as the sort of place you drive though without noticing. Yet it is a bustling community served by a warm and welcoming church family and it will always be in my heart.

The small church building is nice, if unremarkable, but its most distinguishing feature is the stained-glass window at the East end. As it happens, there are comparatively few church windows dedicated to Paul in the UK, and they are all different. But I got to know this one well. It contains five vertical panels, each depicting a scene in the life of Paul.

The first glass panel in the Hook window has Paul watching and approving of the stoning of Stephen, recorded in Acts chapter 7.

The second illustrates his conversion on the Damascus Road, from Acts 9.

The third has him teaching in the Areopagus in Athens – Acts 17 – explaining that the unknown God that the citizens had carefully provided for, to keep their options open, was in fact God who sent Christ into the world.

The fourth scene depicts the shipwreck at Malta of the boat which was taking Paul to his appointment with Roman imperial justice (Acts 27).

The fifth – the only scene not described in Scripture – is of his martyrdom. 

Above them all at the top and centre is a circular window of Christ the King, on his throne.

I don’t have the time today to digress with my memories of talking about that window with countless groups of cubs, brownies and school pupils, except to say that the window was a wonderful stimulant for questions of faith. If anyone wants to see the window, I can show you my cherished photograph at the end of the service.

However, what the children sitting under this window frequently grasped was not just that its panels spanned most of Paul’s adult life, but that all of the events in the window fitted together for a reason.

Thus, first, the ghastly stoning of Stephen and Stephen’s final witness to Christ are an important context for the Conversion of Paul: ‘Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?’

Second, that Paul’s conversion was necessary if God’s purposes for and through him were to be fulfilled.

Thirdly, his conversion changes him so utterly that he later stands quite literally in the public square of a major intellectual centre to debate the local philosophers and proclaim his new-found faith.

Fourthly, on the journey to be questioned and tried for his faith, whilst Paul is not able save the ship from the storm, he is able to steady his shipmates, to point them to safety, and to reassure them when they reach land.

If, as tradition and the Hook window suggest, Paul loses his life by beheading, then we understand that – at the last - he is willing to die for the faith he has converted to, and which has been his all in all ever since.  

So whilst Paul’s conversion is a vital centrepiece, it functions to illustrate the bigger story of the place of Christ in his life as a whole.

… which brings me to the second main thing I want to ponder today.

This morning we can view this great story of conversion from another angle. As one writer comments: “Look at it not so much as a prototype of ‘conversion’ but as a way of understanding who Christ really is.”

The question that the then Saul hears - ‘why are you persecuting me?’ is of immense significance. Technically speaking, Saul has not persecuted Jesus. To the best of our knowledge, Paul has never previously met Jesus, let alone set the attack dogs on him. Yet Saul – Paul – now recognises that his persecution of Stephen and other Christians is an attack on Christ whose presence has just put him face down on the road. The new Christians embodied the very being of Christ. They and their Lord are one – something that might be both a challenge and a comfort in equal measure when we understand that this applies to us too.

Who is Christ in this account of conversion? Hie is the one who turns Saul’s life upside down. The one who breaks down Ananias’ understandable fear of the vengeful persecutor. The one embodied by persecuted Christians and by all who follow Christ. And, as the window in St Paul’s Hook declares, the One who is sovereign over all things - seated on his eternal throne, as his purposes for the church, the world, and the whole of the cosmos are fulfilled in Him.

And what of us> Well, as Paul wrote to the Roman church: ‘All who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God’. Like Paul, our conversion, whether sudden or gradual, is to enable, to tell, a bigger story of the place of Christ in our lives…. which leads me to ask, where is the converting Christ at this moment? Is it possible that here, right now, he is lifting scales from the eyes of someone in the Cathedral or online, inviting, calling you to, a total reorientation of your life?

One important postscript to sign off with, if I may? Paul’s conversion reminds us that conversion is of God, from God, and may catch us and others by surprise. There are no limits to whom Christ will issue the invitation of faith. In Acts 9 we see that even Traitors can become Faithful when called by God. As the final verse of an old hymn puts it:

Lord, teach your Church the lesson,
Still in her darkest hour
Of weakness and of danger,
To trust your hidden power:
Your grace by ways mysterious
The wrath of Earth can bind,
And in Thy boldest rival
Your chosen saint c