Jerome Murphy-O'Connor, Paul. A Critical Life.
Chapter 4: Conversion and its Consequences, p. 71-101

(Detailed summary)

While Luke provides us with three accounts (Acts 9:1–19; 22:4–16; 26:9–18) of Paul’s conversion, the apostle himself is surprisingly reticent on the subject. At most, we can glean a few allusions in his letters:

Am I not free? Am I not an apostle? Have I not seen Jesus our Lord? (1 Cor 9:1)

Last of all, as to one untimely born, he appeared also to me (1 Cor 15:8)

for I did not receive it from a human source, nor was I taught it, but I received it through a revelation of Jesus Christ. (Gal 1:12)

to reveal his Son to me,[c] so that I might proclaim him among the gentiles, I did not confer with any human (Gal 1:16)

It should be noted that these last two references emphasize the proclamation of the good news, and the purpose of this proclamation is to preach the good news; conversion and the call to mission are inseparable.

1. Conversion

   Paul’s two references in 1 Corinthians to his conversion state that Paul “saw the Lord,” the same verb used in John 20:14 regarding Mary Magdalene’s experience of “seeing the Lord.” We are in the context of the post-Easter appearances.

   1. Recognition Appearances

      The accounts of appearances can be divided into two categories: recognition appearances, in which people recognize that Jesus, who had died, is now alive (see Mt 28:8–10; Lk 24:13–42; Jn 20:11–16, 24–29) and mission appearances (Mt 28:16–20; Jn 20:19–23).

      Recognition appearances, despite their variations, follow a certain pattern that includes four elements.

      1. The disciples acknowledge that with Jesus’ death, it is all over. Mary weeps at the tomb (Jn 20:11), Cleopas expresses his disappointment (Lk 24:21), frightened disciples hide (Jn 20:19), Thomas scoffs (Jn 20:25).

      2. Jesus intervenes. He calls Mary (Jn 20:16), he joins Cleopas (Lk 24:15), he appears to the disciples (Jn 20:19, 26).

      3. Jesus gives a sign of his identity. He shows his hands and his side (Jn 20:20, 27) or his hands and his feet (Lk 24:40); he breaks the bread (Lk 24:30).

      4. Jesus is recognized. The disciples fall on their faces (Matt 28:9), Mary says, “Rabboni” (John 20:16), and Thomas says, “My Lord and my God”; their eyes were opened and they recognized him (Luke 24:3); they saw the Lord (John 20:20).

      The mention of the initial disappointment is important, for it contradicts the idea that the disciples might have invented the resurrection of Jesus in their enthusiasm for his continued life. It is Jesus’ initiative that leads them to believe in this resurrection. And a sign of his identity is necessary, so great is the difference between the risen Jesus and the earthly Jesus. And even then, faith is not automatic (Lk 24:41; Mt 28:17).

   2. A Pharisee’s Knowledge of Jesus

      What did Paul know about Jesus of Nazareth before his conversion? For it is certain that Paul had some knowledge of Jesus, since he writes in 2 Corinthians 5:16b: “If we once knew Christ in a human way, we no longer know him in that way.” So let us ask ourselves: what knowledge could a first-century Jew, particularly a Pharisee, have had about Jesus?

      The Jewish historian Josephus has left us two references to Jesus. First, we have this passage:

      This younger Ananus took the highpriesthood. He was a bold man in his temper, and very insolent; he was also of the sect of the Sadducees, who are very rigid in judging offenders above all the rest of the Jews, as we have already observed. When, therefore, Ananus was of this disposition, he thought he had now a proper opportunity to exercise his authority. Festus was now dead, and Albinus was but upon the road; so he assembled the sanhedrin of judges, and brought before them the brother of Jesus, who was called Christ, whose name was James, and some others. And when he had formed an accusation against them as breakers of the law, he delivered them to be stoned (Antiquities of the Jews 20.199-200).

      Thus, the high priest Ananias took advantage of the power vacuum left by the absence of human authority before the arrival of the new procurator to assert his authority in a brutal manner. Josephus’s aim was to explain why Ananias was subsequently deposed by the Roman authorities. But note that in his account, he must specify which James he is referring to (“the brother of Jesus”), as it was a very common name—just as it was for Jesus, who was referred to as “the Christ,” the title that circulated about him, even among those who rejected him.

      The second reference to Jesus in Flavius Josephus is known as the Testimonium Flavianum and has sparked considerable debate due to the intervention of a Christian scribe who altered the text he was copying to express his faith. Here is the text, with the scribe’s probable interpolations in italics:

      Now, there was about this time Jesus, a wise man, if it be lawful to call him a man, for he was a doer of wonderful works (paradoxōn ergōn), a teacher of such men as receive the truth with pleasure (hēdonē talēthē). He drew over to him both many of the Jews and many of the Gentiles. He was the Christ. And when Pilate, at the suggestion of the principal men among us, had condemned him to the cross, those that love him at first did not forsake him; for he appeared to them alive again at the third day, as the divine prophets had foretold these and ten thousand other wonderful things concerning him. And the tribe of Christians so named from him are not extinct at this day (Antiquities of the Jews 18.63-64).

      Without the scribe’s additions, we have a text consistent with the ideas of a non-Christian Jew. First, note that Josephus describes Jesus’ works with the attribute: paradoxos, which means: contrary to expectation or common opinion, extraordinary; the adjective can have a negative connotation in the sense of: strange, bizarre, paradoxical, and therefore hard to believe, or a positive connotation in the sense of: extraordinary, marvelous. To clarify the meaning Josephus intends to convey, we must consider his description of Jesus’s audience: men who joyfully receive the truth: lit. men who receive the truth (talēthē, a crasis of tē alēthē) with pleasure (hēdonē). What does Josephus mean? One cannot dismiss the idea of an ironic undertone in the sentence, implying: these are naive people who have been taken in. For to say that Jesus’s audience consists of truth-seekers might suggest that Jesus was preaching the truth, which would be implausible on Josephus’s part. A suggestion has been made that would better fit the context of “pleasure” (hēdonē): to change talēthē to ta aēthē (novelties, unusual or strange things); Jesus’s audience would consist of people who embrace with pleasure novelties or things out of the ordinary.

      In short, Jesus earned a place in Josephus’s history simply because, against all odds, he gathered disciples who outlived him. When we compare the statement that “he converted many Jews and Greeks” with the Gospels, it becomes clear that Josephus is projecting onto Jesus’s lifetime a truth that only came to pass much later, in the first century. In reality, Jesus converted few Jews and even fewer Greeks. It was only after Easter that they formed “a community of Christians.” This term should be translated as “Messianists” in order to convey its full meaning to a person of Jewish origin. It should be remembered that Josephus was aware that Jesus’ disciples regarded him as the Messiah. Thus, we can safely assume that Paul knew (1) that Jesus had been a teacher to whom miracles were attributed; (2) that he had been crucified under Pontius Pilate following Jewish accusations; and (3) that his disciples regarded him as the Messiah.

      But it is impossible that Paul, as a Pharisee, knew only these rudimentary facts. For Jesus was a teacher, which led him into controversies with the Pharisees, particularly regarding the Sabbath. Recall that according to the Mishnah (Tractate Shabbat 7:2), there were 39 activities prohibited on the Sabbath. The Gospels present several controversies surrounding the Sabbath (Mk 2:23–28; 3:1–6; Lk 6:6–11; 14:1–6; Jn 9:1–40), especially the act of healing on that day when there is no threat to a person’s life. Jesus would therefore have been perceived as someone who relativized the Sabbath, thereby challenging the notion that the Law was the sole and definitive authority, and thus claiming an authority that surpassed that of the Law. Finally, by proclaiming the resurrection of Jesus from the dead, Christians were asserting that God validated Jesus’ mission and guaranteed his teaching. All of this struck a nerve with the Pharisees, who, too, believed in the resurrection of the dead.

      Paul must have been somewhat familiar with Christian claims. In his eyes, it must have been absurd to claim that God had intervened to raise a false prophet whose blasphemous claim to be the expected Messiah was accompanied by a deliberate subversion of the authority of the Law. It is therefore easier to understand why Paul strove to turn Christians away from their beliefs: they had been seriously misled.

   3. Recognizing the Risen Lord

      On the eve of his conversion, Paul was undoubtedly convinced that Jesus had been put to death justly, and that the only possible path for Jewish Christians was to return to the fold of authentic Judaism. His conversion was an unexpected event and can only be attributed to Jesus’s initiative. We must therefore interpret his account in 1 Cor 15:8 correctly: “Last of all, he appeared (ōphthē) to me, the least of all.” The verb ōphthē can be either in the passive voice, in which case it should be translated as “he was seen by me,” or in the middle voice, in which case it should be translated as “he appeared to me” or “he showed himself to me.” In the first case, the initiative lies with Paul; in the other, with Jesus. Which should we choose? Acts 26:16 can guide us: “But rise, stand on your feet! For this is why I have appeared (ōphthēn) to you,” as well as Acts 7:2: “The God of glory appeared (ōphthē) to our father Abraham,” which echoes Gen 12:7 LXX: “And the Lord appeared (ōphthē) to Abram,” which translates the Hebrew: wayyera’ Yahweh ‘el Abram, where the particle ‘el conveys the idea of movement or direction. For Paul, this encounter is an initiative and an action on the part of Jesus. This is what he will say in different words in Galatians 1:16: “But when he who set me apart from my mother’s womb and called me by his grace saw fit to reveal (apokalypsai) his Son in me so that I might preach him among the Gentiles.”

      The account of Jesus’ encounter with Paul poses a problem. Among the elements in our framework for appearance narratives was Jesus’ presentation of a sign of his identity and the recognition of Jesus based on that sign. How is this possible with Paul, since he never met Jesus during his lifetime? We must admit that we are faced with a mystery, unless we accept Luke’s account where Jesus identifies himself by giving his name (Acts 9:5; 22:8; 26:15).

      But the important thing is that Paul’s world was suddenly turned upside down, his value system completely overturned. Paul now knew, with the unshakable conviction of his direct experience, that Jesus, crucified under Pontius Pilate, was alive. The resurrection he had rejected with contempt was a fact, as undeniable as his own reality. He knew that Jesus now existed on another plane. This realization was all that was necessary for his conversion, for it radically transformed his value system. If one of the associations that the name of Jesus evoked in his Pharisaic mind was true (namely, the resurrection), then the others had to be viewed from a completely different perspective. They were no longer the blasphemous claims of a madman and his dupes, but the absolute truth. Jesus must therefore be precisely what he implicitly claimed, and what his disciples explicitly claimed, namely, the Messiah. Likewise, Jesus’ attitude toward the Law must be correct; the Law was not the definitive expression of God’s will. What the Law set forth as prerequisites for salvation no longer held any validity. Since grace had been granted to Paul, despite his efforts to thwart the divine plan of salvation revealed in Jesus, it could also be made accessible to those whom the Law had excluded. Only by admitting that Paul’s conversion consisted essentially of a reevaluation of his own ideas does it become possible to understand how he can write: “Brothers, I want you to know this: the Gospel I preach is not of human origin, for I did not receive it from any man, nor was I taught it by any man, but I was taught it by a revelation of Jesus Christ.” (Gal 1:11–12; cf. 1:1).

      Thus, Paul’s encounter with Christ revealed to him the truth of what he had once held to be false, compelling him to reconsider what became the Christological and soteriological pillars of his Gospel. Christ was the new Adam, the embodiment of authentic humanity. The Law was no longer an obstacle to the salvation of the Gentiles; they could be saved without converting to Judaism.

   4. Apostle of the Gentiles

      In Paul’s own words, his conversion coincided with a call to mission among the Gentiles:

      But when God, who set me apart from my mother’s womb and called me by his grace, was pleased to reveal his Son in me so that I might proclaim him among the nations (Gal 1:15–16a).

      These words of Paul evoke two passages from the Septuagint:

      From my mother’s womb, the Lord called my name… And he said to me: “I have chosen you to be a covenant for the peoples, a light to the nations, the salvation of all, to the ends of the earth (Is 49:1,6)

      Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you, and before you came forth from your mother’s womb, I had set you apart; and I appointed you as a prophet to the nations (Jer 1:5)

      Thus, Paul perceives his conversion as the fulfillment of God’s plan to bring the good news to those who did not belong to the Jewish people. Thus, the passages in Galatians 1:11–12 and 1:15–16 indicate unambiguously that Paul’s mission to the Gentiles was not a later development, nor a mere extension of a supposed initiative by the Hellenists in Jerusalem.

2. Arabia

   Where was Arabia? Strabo gives the geographers’ answer, ‘Arabia Felix is bounded by the whole extent of the Arabian Gulf [= Red Sea] and the Persian Gulf.’ What image did a first-century Jew have of Arabia?

   1. Location and Mission

      The city of Petra (in present-day Jordan) was the royal seat of Arabia and the capital of the Nabataeans, hence the name: Nabataean Arabia. It was therefore to the territory of the Nabataeans that Paul set out—a territory that spans both banks of the Gulf of Aqaba, which flows into the Red Sea. Why this visit?

      It has been suggested that Paul went there because, after his conversion, he needed a period of silence and reflection. But the fact that he provoked the anger of the Nabataeans to the point of having to leave the region suggests something else: Paul tried to convert people. All of this is consistent with the way Paul understood his conversion: a mission to the Gentiles.

   2. Nabataeans and Jews

      Let us recall the turbulent relations between the Jews and the Nabataeans. The Jew Antipater of Idumea (113 B.C. – 43 A.), the father of Herod the Great, sealed an alliance between Hyrcanus II (110–30 BC), high priest and ethnarch of Judea, and the Nabatean king Aretas III by marrying Cypros, a member of a prominent Nabatean family and the future mother of Herod the Great. Against his will, in 32–31 BC, Herod was forced to wage war against the Nabataeans, whom he defeated, and again in 9 BC. It is therefore not surprising that upon his death in 4 BC, when the Jewish people revolted following this authoritarian reign, the Nabataeans joined forces with the Roman governor of Syria to brutally suppress the revolt. To ease tensions between the Jews and the Nabateans, Herod Antipas, son of Herod the Great and king of Galilee, married the daughter of the Nabatean king Aretas IV. Over time, however, Antipas grew tired of her and divorced her to marry Herodias, the wife of his half-brother Philip. This marriage likely took place in the year 23. John the Baptist’s criticism of this union is recorded by both the Gospels and Flavius Josephus. Their divergent perspectives—moral for the former, political for the latter—are in fact complementary and provide a satisfactory explanation for John the Baptist’s arrest and imprisonment in Machaerus, likely around the year 28. Herod Antipas had moved there from Galilee to prepare for an attack by Aretas, in retaliation for the insult to his daughter. Aretas, in fact, used a disputed area on his northern border as a pretext for war. During the battle, likely around the year 29, Antipas’s troops were routed.

   3. The Situation when Paul Arrived

      It was during the reign of Aretas IV (reigned 9 BC–40 AD) that Paul arrived in Arabia. Because of Roman sensitivity whenever peace was threatened, this king lived in constant anxiety, particularly due to past experiences. About 40 years before Paul’s arrival, he had been involved in a conflict with Herod the Great, who had entered his territory to arrest criminals, and news of the skirmish with his soldiers had reached Emperor Augustus. The breach of peace in the eastern part of the empire displeased him, and Herod lost his title as a friend and became a subject. It was only after multiple diplomatic missions that he regained the emperor’s favor. Meanwhile, Aretas IV was going through an uncertain period, having succeeded Obodas III to the throne without seeking Rome’s approval, even as Augustus planned to entrust Arabia to Herod. It was only after Herod’s refusal that Aretas was confirmed in his position, though not without a reprimand for his haste.

      Thus, Aretas knew from experience that Rome had little patience for any bellicose action. By the time Paul arrived in Arabia, Emperor Tiberius was on the throne in Rome. Although he had retired to the island of Capri in the year 26, he remained nonetheless vigilant regarding security along the empire’s eastern borders. For example, upon the death of Herod Philip, tetrarch of Iturea, Trachonitis, Gaulanitis, Batanea, and Auranitis, in the year 34, Tiberius intervened immediately to annex these territories to the Roman province of Syria.

      Aretas therefore knew that at the slightest misstep he would have to face the four legions of the governor of Syria. Moreover, his relations with the Jews had been strained since the wars with Herod the Great. It was in this context that Paul arrived in Arabia in the year 33. It was certainly not the right time for a Jew to begin preaching what, to a foreigner, was merely a new form of Judaism. In the eyes of the Nabateans, the recipients of his ministry, this could only appear as an attempt at infiltration, division, and weakening. What they considered an incitement to treason would have provoked an immediate and violent reaction. This would explain why, later on in Damascus, King Aretas’s ethnarch had the city guarded to arrest Paul, who had to flee at night through a window (cf. 2 Cor 11:32–33).

      It is unlikely that Paul ventured deep into Arabia. He may not even have reached Bosra (Syria); there were three Nabataean cities further north (now in Syria): Philippopolis (Shahba), Kanatha (Qanawat), and Suweida. If Aretas was planning armed resistance against Rome, he would certainly have deployed troops in the region, and Paul would have aroused suspicion as soon as he spoke. This makes a prolonged stay unlikely.

3. Damascus

   Paul tells us nothing about the three years he spent in Damascus. According to Luke, Paul’s ministry was devoted to the Jews in the synagogue. But such a claim is incompatible with Paul’s conviction that his mission was directed toward the Gentiles (2 Cor 11:32–33).

   1. Learning a Trade

      Before exploring Paul’s stay in Damascus further, let us ask ourselves: How did Paul support himself? It is unlikely that the church provided for new converts, just as it is unlikely that Paul was financially independent; it seems Paul had to provide for himself.

      Paul himself writes that he had to work with his own hands day and night to support himself (1 Thess 2:9; 2 Thess 3:7–9; 1 Cor 4:12). And he alludes to this indirectly when he speaks of the unjust trials of his life (1 Cor 4:12; 2 Cor 6:5; 11:23, 27) and describes it as “servile” (1 Cor 9:19) and “humiliating” (2 Cor 11:7). Some Jewish texts state that the rabbis practiced a trade, but all these texts date from the period after the year 70, when conditions in Jerusalem had radically deteriorated; necessity had then been turned into a virtue. But there is no evidence to suggest that Paul, then a student in Jerusalem, needed to learn a trade; his intense commitment to his studies (Gal 1:14) prevented him from being distracted by other interests, and even if he received nothing from his family (which seems unlikely), he would not have starved, for many sought to gain favor through almsgiving.

      But following his conversion, Paul could no longer rely on this institutionalized charity. It was during his stay in Damascus, and perhaps also thanks to his travels in Arabia, that Paul likely became aware of the need to be self-reliant and independent. His mission required great mobility in order to reach out to the entire pagan world. Only financial independence could offer him such freedom, and this was impossible without a trade. According to Luke, Paul became a tentmaker (Acts 18:3), which is entirely plausible. For this skill was in demand throughout the Roman Empire and allowed him to come into contact with all strata of the population. Moreover, he could easily carry his tools with him on his travels, and it was a job that could be done while seated, thus allowing him to work and preach to people at the same time.

      In Rome, in the 1st century, several inscriptions attest to the existence of an organization called the “Association of Tentmakers.” Pliny the Elder describes their activity as follows:

      Linen canvases served as covers for theaters, an idea initially conceived by Quintus Catulus during the dedication of the Capitol. … Subsequently, even in the absence of games, Marcellus, son of Octavia, sister of Augustus, had canvas awnings installed in the Forum as early as August 1 during his term as aedile in his uncle’s 11th consulate, so that people involved in lawsuits could attend under healthier conditions. What a change from the strict customs of Cato the Elder, the censor, who had believed that the Forum should be paved with sharp stones [to keep away onlookers!]. Even more recently, sky-blue awnings studded with stars were strung up with ropes, even in Emperor Nero’s amphitheaters. Red awnings are used in the inner courtyards of houses to protect the moss growing there from the sun (Natural History 19, 23–24)

      Tent makers did not produce awnings alone. They also produced tents to house people when inns were no longer sufficient during special events, as Suetonius reports (Caesar 39.4) regarding the celebration of one of Caesar’s victories. These tents could be made of lightweight linen, like summer beach pavilions, designed to provide shade without blocking the breeze, or much thicker linen used for sails and street vendors’ stalls. There were also much sturdier tents made of leather. Thus, Paul could practice his trade year-round. All he needed was an awl to pierce a hole in a folded seam of canvas, as in leather, and in both cases, a curved needle that is slipped in before the hole closes, a crescent-shaped knife, needles, and waxed thread. He could thus reinforce a sail and mend the tents that served as shelter for passengers and crew on deck and as overnight lodging ashore. He could repair the canvas of a wagon or the harnesses of draft animals. He could stitch a seam or two on any of the wide variety of leather items used by travelers: sandals, gaiters, belts, coats, and water bottles. Since every town of any size held its own festival, for which stalls and tents were essential, Paul could always find customers if he chose the right moment. In Corinth, for example, Paul found work with Prisca and Aquila (Acts 18:3), who met the constant need for awnings but also benefited from the fact that the Isthmian Games, held every two years, ensured a steady stream of work for the repair and manufacture of tents.

      This is how Paul was able to support himself by working day and night (1 Thess 2:9; 2 Thess 3:9). But he could not become wealthy, for he was constantly on the move and thus could not secure a stable clientele. This is why he sometimes had to rely on financial support from local communities (Phil 4:15–16; 2 Cor 11:9). On the other hand, the downside of Paul’s choice was that it stigmatized him as belonging to a group despised by the elite. In a letter addressed to his son, then a student in Athens, Cicero writes that “The means of subsistence of all wage laborers whom we pay for mere manual labor, and not for artistic talent, are likewise unworthy of a man of good character and vulgar; for, in their case, the very wage they receive is a pledge of their slavery… All artisans practice vulgar trades, for no workshop can truly be considered liberal” (De Officii 150-151). Despite these prejudices, Paul managed to make friends even among the elite, as seen in Corinth where his first converts had homes large enough to accommodate the community.

   2. Ministry of Gentiles

      Damascus was a strongly Hellenized pagan city, although there must have been a significant Jewish community there. It was a prosperous city and an important crossroads on the trade routes leading from Anatolia to Babylon in the east and to Egypt in the south. One can imagine that Paul had no difficulty finding a place to minister there while learning his trade. The very fact that he stayed there for three years suggests that he found plenty of work there. He must have been very disappointed when the Nabataeans took control of the city at the end of 37 AD, forcing him to flee.

4. Jerusalem

   So Paul left Damascus, never to return. He traveled to Jerusalem, a journey of about a week. Why? Paul writes: “I went up to Jerusalem to historēsai Cephas and stayed with him for fifteen days” (Gal 1:18). There are two possible translations of historēsai: either a) to visit or to get to know; or b) to question or to obtain information from. Most biblical scholars opt for the first translation, since Paul had always asserted his independence from Peter and the other apostles. But it is also possible that Paul deliberately chose an ambiguous term.

   1. Knowledge of the Historical Jesus

      Given Christ’s central role in Paul’s conversion and theology, and the curiosity aroused by the bits of information he had gathered during his time in the Christian community in Damascus, it is therefore highly unlikely that Paul did not make the most of Peter’s knowledge of the historical Jesus. Since Peter had been preaching for more than seven years, it is reasonable to assume that his accounts had taken the form of short gospels. Thus, during those two weeks with Peter, Paul was able to learn a great deal about the historical Jesus.

      Certain details in Paul’s letters confirm this conclusion. The historical Jesus is fundamental to his theology. The author of the Letter to the Ephesians grasped this point very well: “Provided that you have heard of him [Christ] and have been taught by him, in accordance with the truth that is in Jesus” (Eph 4:21) . For Paul, one cannot separate the Lord in glory from the crucified Jesus (1 Cor 2:6). That is why he condemns all those who preach a Jesus different from the one he preaches (2 Cor 11:4).

      There are two explicit references to Jesus’ words:

      To those who are married I give this command—not I, but the Lord—that a wife must not separate from her husband; and if she does, she must not remarry, but remain single or be reconciled to her husband; and a husband must not divorce his wife (1 Cor 7:10–11)

      Likewise, the Lord has commanded those who preach the Gospel to live by the Gospel (1 Cor 9:14)

      While these two references are explicit, the fact remains that the teaching of the historical Jesus certainly permeated his thinking to the point that it was difficult to distinguish whether he was quoting tradition or expressing his own thoughts. Paul must have known not only Jesus’ words but also their context. For example, the reference to the pastor who must live by the Gospel is also found in Luke 10:7 (“Stay in that house, eating and drinking whatever they give you, for the worker deserves his wages”), which is situated in a similar missionary context. We also note that Paul uses a surprisingly high proportion of metaphors reflecting the rural world and agrarian culture, even though he himself was a city dweller; this is an indication that Paul was familiar with the language of Jesus’ parables.

      Nevertheless, when we try to gather from his writings everything Paul knew about the historical Jesus, we come up with a rather meager harvest: he was a Jew (Rom 9:4–5), of the line of David (Rom 1:3), who had a mother (Gal 4:4), who was betrayed (1 Cor 11:23) and was crucified (1 Cor 2:2), and subsequently died and was buried (1 Cor 15:3-4). This raises the question: Why didn’t Paul share all his knowledge about the historical Jesus? All of this stems from his Christology, as we shall see.

   2. A Missionary Agreement

      From the moment of his conversion, Paul always viewed it as a calling to minister to the Gentiles. And that is indeed how he acted, whether in Arabia or in Damascus. What was already a fact was only formalized later. This is what this passage from the Letter to the Galatians reveals, a passage that has been the subject of much debate among biblical scholars:

      6 And from those who were supposed to be acknowledged leaders (what they actually were makes no difference to me; God shows no partiality)—those leaders contributed nothing to me. 7 On the contrary, when they saw that I had been entrusted with the gospel for the uncircumcised, just as Peter had been entrusted with the gospel for the circumcised 8 (for he who worked through Peter making him an apostle to the circumcised also worked through me in sending me to the gentiles), 9 and when James and Cephas and John, who were acknowledged pillars, recognized the grace that had been given to me, they gave to Barnabas and me the right hand of fellowship, agreeing that we should go to the gentiles and they to the circumcised (Gal 2:6-9)

      Paul refers to his stay in Jerusalem. But verses 7b–8 do not seem to belong to the same context as verse 9. For in 7b-8 Paul uses the name “Peter” and seems to refer to an agreement between himself and Peter alone during his first visit to Jerusalem, thereby confirming, as it were, a de facto situation in which God sent him to the Gentiles just as he sent Peter to the Jews; but in v. 9 and throughout the rest of this chapter he uses the name “Cephas,” and this name is associated with James and John, as was the case during his second visit to Jerusalem. Paul would thus be combining two different stays in Jerusalem here. Why would he have made this amalgamation? First, by separating the mention of his first stay in Jerusalem (Gal 1:18) from the details of that stay (Gal 2:7–8), he avoids giving the impression that his missionary work following his conversion was carried out under the auspices of the Jerusalem Council; thus he can emphasize his independence and present his stay in Jerusalem as a simple desire to get to know Peter. Next, by juxtaposing the accounts of the two stays in Jerusalem, he could imply that the equality between Peter and himself during the second encounter also applied during the first encounter, even though Paul did not have the same authority in the Church as Peter.

      The basis of Paul’s entire argument was pragmatic: the observation of God’s action through Peter and through him (Gal 2:8: “For the one who worked through Peter for the apostleship to the circumcised also worked through me for the Gentiles”). Each ministry was authenticated in the same way, namely through the effectiveness of grace, the power of God made visible.

5. The Missing Years
   1. A Gap in the Record

      According to Galatians 1:21, Paul left Jerusalem during his first visit in the year 37 to travel to the regions of Syria and Cilicia. We can infer from this that he visited Antioch on the Orontes, the capital of the Roman province of Syria, and his hometown of Tarsus. But from this point on, there is a lack of information until the beginning of the year 46, when his letters provide us with some details. The Acts of the Apostles fills this gap with an account of a mission by Paul and Barnabas to Cyprus and southern Asia Minor (Acts 13–14). 2 Timothy 3:11 confirms this information with references to Antioch (in Pisidia), Iconium, and Lystra. Furthermore, Paul’s letters confirm that he worked with Barnabas for some time. He mentions him at the Jerusalem Council as the representative of the mission to the Gentiles (Galatians 2:1). He mentions him again in 1 Cor 9:6 when discussing his financial situation, noting that he had to work with his hands to support himself, suggesting that Barnabas adopted the same approach under similar circumstances. The incident in Antioch recounted in Gal 2:11–21 also suggests that he and Barnabas were members of that community. When reading Paul’s letters, one gets the impression that his first missionary journeys were undertaken as an emissary of the Antioch community, just as Luke writes (Acts 13:1–3). Moreover, the fact that in his two letters to the Thessalonians Paul does not need to justify his intervention implies that he was acting with a missionary mandate from Antioch.

      In short, when we consider Paul’s letters as a whole, we see that he considered himself solely responsible for the communities he had founded during the great journey that began no later than the year 46. He did not feel the same responsibility toward the other converts he had made previously and to whom he had not written. Why? Clearly, responsibility for the earlier missions during the years 37 to 46 lay with someone else, most likely Barnabas.

      We thus arrive at this picture for the period from 37 to 46. Paul first joined the community in Antioch, from where he was sent as Barnabas’s assistant to evangelize southern Asia Minor, notably the cities of Antioch in Pisidia, Iconium, and Lystra. This mission was perfectly in line with his conception of his responsibility toward the Gentiles. But it probably lasted no more than two years. What did he do the rest of the time? We may never know.

   2. Dangers on the Road

      Paul traveled extensively and was therefore often on the road. He describes it this way:

      Journeys on foot, often; dangers from rivers; dangers from bandits; dangers from my own people; dangers from the Gentiles; dangers in the city; dangers in the wilderness; dangers at sea; dangers from false brothers! (2 Cor 11:26)

      The context of these journeys would shape his theology. What is striking about his description of these journeys is not their difficulty, but the list of dangers. These dangers were not so great on the major Roman roads, which featured paved paths, bridges, and some protection from the army. But the situation was different on the secondary roads, and especially in the eastern Roman provinces: for example, these roads were built for the long dry season, when riverbeds were nearly dry; in the spring, the melting of winter rains turned the passages into dangerous fords.

      On the other hand, bandits posed a threat year-round. In the senatorial provinces, the proconsul traveled with auxiliary units and presided over courts of justice in various cities, but his presence was felt only in certain localities, and most small towns and villages were left to fend for themselves. And the poor had no recourse. Apuleius paints this picture through a letter from a friend to Lucius of Hypata (now Ipati) in Thessaly:

      Don’t linger too long at the party. Come back as soon as possible, for in the early hours of the day, Hypata is terrorized by a gang of young thugs who take pleasure in murdering anyone who passes by and littering the streets with corpses. They belong to the city’s leading families, and the Roman barracks are so far away that it is impossible to put an end to these troubles ( The Metamorphoses 2, 18).

      The situation was worse in the countryside. Poverty could drive many to banditry. Those who had to travel alone did so trembling with fear. Moreover, there was the danger of wild animals. Apuleius mentions the danger of bears, wild boars, and wolves.

      The authorities warned us not to continue our journey that night, nor even the following morning, for the region was infested with packs of gigantic wolves, which had grown so bold that they behaved like highwaymen, attacking travelers on the roads or raiding farms, showing no more respect for the armed occupants than for their defenseless herds. We were warned that the road we wished to take was littered with half-devoured corpses and stripped skeletons, and that we must proceed with the utmost caution, traveling only in broad daylight—the higher the sun, the less aggressive the wolves—and in a tight group, without spreading out ( Metamorphoses 8, 15).

      People therefore traveled in groups as much as possible. One can imagine that some carried a large stick for self-defense. But this action sometimes had certain consequences, as Apuleius tells us again.

      When we arrived in a small village, the inhabitants naturally took us for a band of brigands. Seized by panic, they unleashed a pack of large mastiffs—which they kept as guard dogs—ferocious beasts, worse than any wolf or bear—and set them upon us, howling, cackling, and uttering discordant shouts ( Metamorphoses 8, 17).

      Thus, inevitably, every stranger was the object of suspicion, and this suspicion was inversely proportional to the size of the settlement. It was not a matter of xenophobia, but the result of hard experience.

      Properties were not safe. A momentary absence from a cottage carried the risk of theft, and those who attempted to defend their meager possessions put their lives in danger. Despite their walls, their sturdy doors, and the presence of numerous slaves, armed in case of emergency, the great mansions were not safe. Thieves employed all sorts of tricks to gain entry, both to locate valuables and to open doors for their accomplices. Inns were even less secure. Throughout the Roman province of Asia, they were spaced a day’s walk apart (25 Roman miles, or 35 km), with a small station where couriers could change horses halfway between two inns. The rooms were grouped around an inner courtyard, with common areas on the ground floor and bedrooms upstairs. The wealthier could afford a private room, but those of more modest means had to share their room with strangers; the number of people depended on how many beds the innkeeper could fit in the room, or on his attitude toward guests sleeping on the floor. Unless they wanted to carry their luggage with them, guests had to leave it unattended when they went to the baths and the restaurant. Needless to say, theft was commonplace.

      In such an environment, one can imagine the tensions Paul experienced during his many journeys. On the one hand, having become a disciple of Jesus, who loved to the point of giving his life, Paul made Jesus his model. But on the other hand, every road he traveled forced him to worry about his safety. Every inn where he stopped forced him to view others as potential thieves, at least to the extent that he had to take measures to protect the precious tools on which his livelihood depended. Circumstances relentlessly placed the self at the center of his consciousness, even as he longed to focus entirely on others. His life had become a perpetual struggle against the insidious miasma of self-centeredness.

      In this tension experienced by Paul, we can find the origin of his concept of “sin.” When he writes, “All, both Jews and Greeks, are under the power of sin” (Rom 3:9), he is not referring to personal faults, but to the condition of a world where individuals are compelled to be other than they wish to be; their true nature was alienated by their environment (Rom 7:20). Through his own experience as an itinerant missionary, Paul learned that selfishness was not a choice, but a necessity for survival. Behaviors are dictated by irresistible social pressures and are subject to a force beyond their control: the value system inherent to their society. Paul became fully aware of the power of this system as he struggled to remain faithful to the example of Jesus (1 Cor 11:1).