I could become a better person.

I'm tempted to forget this sometimes. I forget at times when it is hard for me to change. And I forget when it seems like the people around me are slow to change for the better.

There is a lot of resistance to change in the world. As individuals we are loath to change. I'm afraid that if I change I won't know myself anymore. The old ways, tradition, and the familiar have a strong pull. And of course there is good in that.

But in the big picture, unless we think we live in an ideal world, at some level most of us feel as if change needs to happen. We think the world could be a better place -- especially the part of it that is determined by human behavior. Maybe people are already running the world as well as it can be run, because people are already be as wise and good as they can be. But probably not.

My mind is drawn to a story in the Bible about change and what caused it.

But I'm almost afraid to mention the Bible because it has been the source of so much conflict and trouble. While many people have found help in the Bible, perhaps even more have been hurt and excluded, even killed, with a claim of Bible authorization.

I wonder if the Bible has helped or hurt in the ancient human struggle with conflict and violence. There is sobering evidence that the Christian religion, claiming Bible authority, has been responsible for more untimely deaths through violence and war than any other social institution in the world.

Yet in the mix of the world's great religions, Christianity continues to be powerfully influential. The way Christians use the Bible has immense impact in world affairs. This alone keeps nudging me toward another look at the Bible and its message. Could there be, on balance, a positive seed of healing for a troubled world in the Bible?

To think of the Bible is to think of Jesus, and what to make of him.

The figure of Paul, writer and missionary, looms large as well. And in the relationship of Paul and Jesus we engage a story of whether and how people change.

Paul (at first called Saul in the Acts 9 narrative) was a strong leader. A Jew whose career was focused on the nurture and defense of God's people in the Jewish community, he was bold in the pursuit of justice and truth. This led him to oppose the disciples of Jesus, called followers of The Way, as a threat to the stability and integrity of his own religious community.

A man of law and order, on one occasion Paul obtained written authorization from the priests of his religion to arrest and imprison followers of The Way. He set out toward Damascus intent on weeding out the virus of Jesus followers in the synagogues there. His goal and motivation to defend his people were above reproach. His method was questionable.

At Damascus, a man named Ananias was one of the followers of The Way.

Ananias had come to accept the notion of power and the version of history which Jesus taught in his message of the rulership (kingdom) of God. A Jew like Paul, Ananias knew the Ten Commandments well, but was persuaded that the commandment of Jesus to love one another as Jesus loved people was valid as well.

The harsh reputation of Paul had preceded him to Damascus. Ananias and his fellow disciples of Jesus were well aware that Saul was a deadly threat. When they heard that their arch enemy was coming for them, we can be sure that the adobe walls of those Christian homes vibrated with conversation about how to respond when he showed up.

They talked about the teaching of Jesus, "Love your enemies." They asked if that was practical. "Impossible," said Levi. "Obviously, Jesus not was talking about threats to the very life of our community." "Essential," said Ananias. "If Jesus did not mean what he said in this, what did he mean with any of his teaching about taking up our cross?" And so they debated.

Meanwhile, Saul's travel was interrupted by a voice from heaven.

"Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?" came a voice like a bolt of lightening. He fell from his horse, blinded. Who was he persecuting? His conscience, already troubled by his approval of the violent stoning of Stephen, was laid bare with a poignant question.

His companions led him on, in darkness. He wrestled with what it meant. Whose voice had spoken? Persecuting "me?" He was persecuting followers of The Way. The voice had said, "I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting." A voice from heaven is God's voice. Jesus lived on earth. Christians, followers of The Way, are not Jesus. What is this?

"The Roman empire has reduced our Jewish community to an occupied territory. Greek philosophy threatens our monotheistic wisdom. We are threatened on every side. We must defend or perish. This is no time for compromise. Our God is not a wimp. I'm only doing what I must do, what any man would do. There is a time for war."

Ananias, green with fright, was driven to prayer.

He had a vision. God spoke to him, "Ananias. Get up and go to the street called Straight, and at the house of Judas look for a man of Tarsus named Saul."

"I'd rather not, God. I have have heard from many about this man," replied Ananias.

"Go," said God. So he went.

As he walked, he pondered. "What will I do? What will happen? What will I say?" He approached the door trembling, knocked, and entered.

"Brother Saul!" said Ananias. And he touched Saul with loving hands. Strange brother.

The story says that immediately something like scales fell from Saul's eyes, and his sight was restored. Then he got up and was baptized, and after taking some food, he regained his strength.

Later Paul wrote, "Be transformed by the renewing of your minds. Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. Love does no wrong to a neighbor, therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law." (Romans 12, 13)

Such a change, such a conversion, is no threat to any authentic religion.

I could become a better person.

But, love my enemies?

Strange brother.