The Friend had come for moral support, not believing for a second the crazy story Ananias had told him. They would go to the place Ananias thought he saw in a vision, find nothing unusual there, and the Friend would be there to comfort Ananias and tell him not to worry about it. There were rumors, frightening rumors, and it did occur to the Friend, for just a moment, that it could be a trap; Ananias could be setting him up. But he had known his kindhearted (if not soft-headed) friend for many years, and the one thing he knew about Ananias was that he would never be a traitor.

But he also knew that Ananias’ soft heart could get him in trouble. Ananias had no clue about the real world, about the way things really worked, about how tough it was out there, about how you had to protect yourself, about how sometimes you had to make hard, unpleasant decisions for the good of the whole. The Friend didn’t believe a word of the crazy story Ananias had told him, but he wanted go along to keep Ananias out of trouble. Ananias was one of those gentle people who needed a practical protector.

When they arrived, the Friend, wanting to avoid being present for Ananias’ embarrassment, stayed outside. Ananias was gone a long time. "Probably praying to ask why his vision was not true," the Friend thought. But he wasn’t mocking. He deeply respected this friend who was so different from himself.

And finally Ananias came out and told him. The Friend, who knew that Ananias would not lie, was absolutely dumbfounded.

"Where is he?" the Friend whispered with a frown. Behind the frown, amazement had already given way to fear.

"He’s upstairs," Ananias answered, not whispering "He can’t see, and he hasn’t had anything to eat or drink for three days." And then, quietly, but not whispering, he said, "He’s very weak."

The sympathetic tone in Ananias’ response struck the fear in the frown. The friend forgot about whispering. "Good God, Ananias! Are you crazy? Saul! Saul! That’s Saul up there, Ananias. In case you’ve forgotten, Saul helped kill Stephen. That’s kill, Ananias. Stephen is dead. Saul, Ananias. Saul who, in case you’ve forgotten, has personally been responsible for our people being taken away in chains and tortured. He has been the architect of the movement to destroy us.

"Saul, Ananias. Saul who, in case you’ve forgotten, came here with letters authorizing him to arrest us, all of us, men and women, and take us to Jerusalem. This is Saul, Ananias, SAUL. He breathes threats and murder against all of the disciples, and that includes you, Ananias."

The Friend paused, collecting himself. He couldn’t believe this was happening, but this was exactly why he had come, why he had needed to come. He breathed deeply a few times, then spoke calmly, but firmly: "He is our enemy, Ananias He is a murderer. A murderer. He has murdered us before, and he came here to murder us again."

He paused again, then spoke even more slowly, knowing it would be hard for Ananias to hear: "And this man," he said, "this man breathing threats and breathing murder, this man is upstairs blind and weak, and he is unprotected" The friend took a slow, deep breath and looked him in the eye. "We have to kill him, Ananias. It is very unpleasant; it is very distasteful; but God knows it is justified. And it is the right thing to do. We have to protect ourselves. We have to kill him!"

Ananias answered slowly: "I appreciate your concern. I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I have many of the same concerns. But it is clear to me that God will not give up on this Saul. God will work in his life. He will be a vessel of grace."

The energy the Friend had been tamping down exploded. "O, for God’s sake, Ananias. Grow up! This man is a steely-eyed killer. There is no way to get through to a person like that. God is not powerful enough, God is not resourceful enough, to use this life. There’s only one thing we can do: KILL HIM! KILL HIM! KILL HIM! "

But, of course, Ananias didn’t kill him. He baptized him. And, of course, Saul became Paul, the instrument, the vessel, God chose to bring the name of Christ before the Gentiles and kings and before the people of Israel. To a very large extent, we are here now because Ananias believed that God could work through even a steely-eyed killer, that God would not give up on anyone, ever. We are here now because Ananias did not kill the killer.

In a few weeks, the government of the United States will kill a killer, a steely-eyed, unrepentant, terrible killer of men and women and babies. When I think of his crime, of the picture of the dead baby in the fireman’s arms, when I think of the trauma he caused the survivors and the families, when I think of the well of hatred in his heart, much in me wants to cry out: "This man is a steely-eyed killer. There is no way to get through to a person like that. God is not powerful enough, God is not resourceful enough, to use this life. There’s only one thing we can do: KILL HIM! KILL HIM! KILL HIM! "

And then I remember that I am a disciple, like Ananias was a disciple. I am called to make ethical decisions with something higher than my fear, or my hatred, or my desire for revenge. When we say on Easter morning, "Alleluia, Christ is risen. The Lord is risen indeed." after we have shouted on Good Friday, "Crucify him! Crucify him! Crucify him!," part of what we’re saying is that the Crucified and Risen Christ will not give up on the parts of us that are steely eyed and unrepentant, the places where we know that what we do is wrong, is hurtful, and we do it anyway.

Timothy McVeigh is the acid test for our belief that God never gives up on anyone, and so we can never give up on anyone. If Timothy McVeigh were to live to a ripe old age, I don’t know whether he would ever let God work in his life. But stranger things have happened. Once upon a time, on the road to Damascus, God saw a steely eyed killer on his way to persecute the People of the Way. And God knocked him on his butt. And Ananias baptized him, and made that steely-eyed enemy a brother in Christ.

When the lethal chemicals are injected into Timothy McVeigh’s veins, the important thing will not be Timothy McVeigh’s final statement. This is not really about who Timothy McVeigh is. It is about who we are. It is about what statement we make. When the lethal chemicals are injected into Timothy McVeigh’s veins, we as a nation will be saying, "This man is a steely-eyed killer. There is no way to get through to a person like that. God is not powerful enough, God is not resourceful enough, to use this life. There’s only one thing we can do: KILL HIM! KILL HIM! KILL HIM! "

I would rather say, "Alleluia, Christ is risen. The Lord is risen indeed," and never underestimate what that might mean.

Because once upon a time, on the road to Damascus . . . .