The church's fiercest enemy rides toward Damascus with arrest warrants, and light from heaven flattens him: Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?

Not why do you persecute them, Me. Jesus so identifies with His people that their wounds are His. Today the persecutor becomes the apostle, and a kingdom, less happily, splits in two. Grace can turn anyone; pride can split anything.

Solomon's fall and Saul's conversion frame the day: the wisest man drifted by degrees into divided worship, while the church's worst enemy was captured in an afternoon. Hearts can erode and hearts can be seized, which means no one's trajectory is safe to presume, including the person you have written off, including you.

Treasure the question from heaven: why do you persecute Me? Every wound to Christ's people lands on Christ, and every kindness does too. And treasure Ananias's brave first word, Brother, spoken to a man with warrants in his bag. Pray for your Saul today by name. Chosen instruments sometimes arrive still breathing threats.