

By Dr. Tim Orr
I’ve been reading N.T. Wright’s Paul: A Biography, and I have to say—it’s been one of the most illuminating books I’ve read in a long time. Wright doesn’t merely offer a chronological summary of Paul’s life; he opens up the social, cultural, and theological world that shaped Paul’s identity, mission, and message. In particular, his treatment of Paul’s Damascus Road experience is profoundly insightful. Rather than simply framing it as a “conversion,” Wright invites readers to see it as an apocalyptic event—an unveiling that disrupted and redefined Paul’s worldview from the inside out. The moment wasn’t just a spiritual pivot; it was a vocational calling, a theological earthquake, and the beginning of a new creation.
Not Just a Conversion: Rethinking Damascus
Most of us have heard Paul’s story taught as a typical conversion narrative—a bad guy turned good, a violent persecutor transformed into a peaceful preacher. While there’s truth in that arc, Wright challenges us to go deeper. He argues that Paul did not “convert” in the way we might think today—he didn’t reject Judaism in favor of a new religion called Christianity. Instead, Paul came to believe that the very God he had served all his life had acted decisively in Jesus of Nazareth, the crucified and risen Messiah (Wright, 2018, pp. 61–62).
Wright explains that for Paul, the categories of religion we often use—Judaism versus Christianity—would have made little sense. What happened to Paul on the road to Damascus was more akin to a theological revolution within his Jewish worldview than a departure from it. The idea that Israel’s Messiah had been crucified was scandalous, and the notion that He had been raised from the dead before the end of the age was completely unexpected. Yet, this paradox became the foundation for Paul’s new understanding of God’s faithfulness. Wright’s insight here helps us appreciate that Paul was not converting to a different God but realizing that the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob had acted in a radically new way in Jesus.
This reshaping of Paul’s worldview invites us to reconsider how we use the word “conversion” today. Are we talking about a mere change of religion, or are we talking about a heart and mind being captivated by a new vision of God and what He is doing in the world? Paul’s Damascus Road experience reminds us that true transformation isn’t just about changing our religious affiliation—it’s about encountering a profound reality that reorders everything we believe, value, and live for.
A Shattered Worldview: Apocalypse and New Creation
Wright places Paul’s Damascus Road experience in the context of apocalyptic literature—a genre not about the end of the world but about God’s unveiling of His purposes in history. What happened to Paul was a personal awakening and a cosmic revelation. The light that blinded him symbolized a deeper illumination: the unveiling of God's redemptive purposes for Israel and the nations through the Messiah.
In Wright’s view, Paul’s blindness represented not only a physical condition but a metaphor for the disorientation that comes when one's world is dismantled by divine revelation. During those three days without sight, Paul’s old certainties were being dismantled. It’s almost as if Paul entered a symbolic death—cut off from the world he knew—and emerged with new eyes to see God's purposes more clearly. Wright compares this moment to the resurrection itself: Paul was not merely “born again” emotionally but was brought through symbolic death and resurrection (Wright, 2018, p. 61). The entire framework through which Paul understood Scripture, identity, and hope was transfigured by the shocking truth that the age to come had already begun—in Jesus.
This reminds us that sometimes before we can see clearly, we must first be brought low. Often, spiritual clarity is born out of disorientation. Many of us fear those moments when our frameworks fall apart—when we no longer know how to make sense of life or faith. But Paul’s story reassures us that God sometimes uses those moments to strip away false certainties to rebuild our vision on a truer foundation. What seems like a breakdown may be the beginning of a new creation.
Zeal Transformed: From Persecutor to Prophet
One of the most powerful illustrations in Paul: A Biography is how Wright helps us understand Paul’s pre-Damascus zeal not as an anomaly but as a reflection of a deeply Jewish longing for God’s justice. Paul wasn’t necessarily acting out of cruelty when he persecuted the early followers of Jesus—he was acting out of conviction. He believed he was defending God’s holiness and protecting Israel from deception (Wright, 2018, pp. 34–39).
What makes Paul’s transformation so remarkable is not simply that he abandoned that zeal but that it was redirected toward a new cause. Wright compares Paul’s redirection to the prophets of old—figures like Elijah or Jeremiah who were caught up in divine fire and sent to confront their communities with a radical word from God (Wright, 2018, p. 66). Paul’s former passion now fueled his apostolic vocation, not with violence but with self-sacrificial love. In Paul’s later writings, we see a man who suffers for the gospel, pleads with tears, and contends for God’s people’s unity. His zeal was not erased—it was crucified and raised with Christ.
This shift teaches us an important lesson: God doesn’t waste anything. Even our misdirected passions—when surrendered—can be redeemed and repurposed. Paul’s story encourages us to bring our energy, convictions, and longings before God and let Him refine them. Passion alone is not a virtue; it must be purified and redirected by truth. When that happens, as it did in Paul’s life, our zeal becomes a fire that brings light, not harm.
A Prophetic Calling: Sent to the Nations
Another key insight Wright brings is Paul’s encounter’s vocational nature. What happened on the road was a theological realization and a divine commissioning. In Acts 9, Jesus says of Paul, “He is my chosen instrument to proclaim my name to the Gentiles and their kings and the people of Israel” (Acts 9:15, NIV). This wasn’t an afterthought—it was the heart of Paul’s call from the beginning.
Wright’s portrait of Paul’s calling reveals how deeply rooted it was in the Hebrew Scriptures. Paul’s mission to the Gentiles was not a detour but the very fulfillment of Israel’s vocation to be a light to the nations (Isaiah 49:6). Paul saw himself not as a renegade but as one who was participating in the long-awaited promises of God to bring blessing to all peoples through Abraham’s seed (Wright, 2018, pp. 70–73). The irony, as Wright points out, is that the same Paul who once sought to preserve ethnic purity now became the apostle of radical inclusion. His letters are full of this astonishing reversal, where Gentiles are no longer outsiders but co-heirs with Jews in God’s renewed family.
Paul’s Damascus moment reminds us that God often calls us out of what we know to send us into what we never imagined. Sometimes, our calling is born in the very place where we are most resistant. Paul’s mission to the Gentiles came from a background that resisted Gentile inclusion. Likewise, God may use the areas we once misunderstood or feared as the places He calls us to bring light and truth.
A New Vision of Righteousness and Identity
Perhaps one of the most profound transformations that emerged from Damascus was Paul’s new understanding of righteousness. Before, righteousness meant covenant loyalty, which was demonstrated through Torah observance and ethnic identity. But after encountering Jesus, Paul saw righteousness as God’s gracious act of setting the world right through Christ and incorporating Jews and Gentiles into one new family (Wright, 2018, pp. 120–123).
Wright makes the case that Paul’s theology of justification was not merely about individual salvation but about God’s covenant faithfulness—His commitment to restore creation through the faithfulness of Jesus the Messiah. Paul’s righteousness was no longer rooted in ethnic or ritual boundary markers but in the Messiah’s death and resurrection. For Paul, the new identity marker was not circumcision or food laws but baptism into Christ (Galatians 3:27–29). Wright describes this as a “new exodus,” where the Messiah leads people out of sin and into the new covenant community—marked not by law but by Spirit and grace (Wright, 2018, p. 129).
For modern readers, this vision is still profoundly relevant. In a world that often defines identity through race, nationality, achievement, or status, Paul’s message calls back to the core: we are who we are in Christ. The ground at the foot of the cross is level. Our deepest worth is not something we earn or inherit—we receive by grace through faith. Paul’s identity in Christ became his truest self, and it can become ours, too.
From Damascus to the Ends of the Earth
Wright ends his treatment of the Damascus Road experience not by confining it to a single moment but by showing how it reverberated throughout Paul’s life. The mission that began on that road would carry Paul through shipwrecks, imprisonments, beatings, and betrayals—all for the gospel's sake. But it also shaped his theology of grace, pastoral heart, and vision for the church as a unified body of Jews and Gentiles, slave and free, male and female, all one in Christ Jesus (Galatians 3:28).
What’s especially moving in Wright’s account is how Paul’s Damascus experience remained the defining narrative of his apostleship. In every city he visited, in every letter he wrote, we see echoes of that first encounter with the risen Christ. Paul’s life became a living testament to the transformative power of grace. He never forgot who he had been or had become—not because of his efforts, but because of God’s mercy. As Wright puts it, Paul’s theology was not abstract theory—it was a biography shaped by divine encounters, a life crucified with Christ, and raised on a mission (Wright, 2018, p. 143).
Paul’s journey reminds us that the Christian life is not a one-time experience but an unfolding mission. Damascus is just the beginning. God meets us where we are, but He never leaves us there. Like Paul, we are called not only to believe but to go—to embody the gospel in the places God sends us, no matter how unexpected or costly the journey may be.
References
Wright, N. T. (2018). Paul: A biography. HarperOne.
Dr. Tim Orr serves full-time with Crescent Project as the assistant director of the internship program and area coordinator, where he is also deeply involved in outreach across the UK. A scholar of Islam, Evangelical minister, conference speaker, and interfaith consultant, Tim brings over 30 years of experience in cross-cultural ministry. He holds six academic degrees, including a Doctor of Ministry from Liberty University and a Master’s in Islamic Studies from the Islamic College in London.
In addition to his ministry work, Tim is a research associate with the Congregations and Polarization Project at the Center for the Study of Religion and American Culture at Indiana University Indianapolis. His research interests include Islamic antisemitism, American Evangelicalism, and Islamic feminism. He has spoken at leading universities and mosques throughout the UK—including Oxford University, Imperial College London, and the University of Tehran—and has published widely in peer-reviewed Islamic academic journals. Tim is also the author of four books.