If he were on the radar, he’d be a blip. If he were in a class picture he’d be the one in the back row mostly obscured by those in front of him. If he was part of the varsity team, he’d be the water boy. If he was a piece in a puzzle, he’d be part of the sky in the center. But this morning, I have to thing by the Spirit’s leading, he is the brightest blip on my radar. A devout man . . . a man trusted by the Lord enough to be visited in a vision . . . a man in such relationship with the risen Christ that he’s comfortable engaging in a conversation . . . a man so submitted to Jesus that, when Jesus asks him to do something, he does it . . . a man who the great apostle Paul would be indebted to for eternity. Enter from the back row, Ananias.

You get to Acts 9 and there’s a sense of anticipation as you prepare to again take in the story of Paul’s dramatic conversion. At that time he’s Saul . . . “of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness, under the law blameless” (Php. 3:5-6) . . . on a mission . . . letter of authorization in hand . . . ready to clean out the synagogues of Damascus of any who are “belonging to the Way” (9:2) . . . to bring them back bound . . . and, as appropriate, to exterminate them. But the hunter becomes the hunted. The capturer becomes the captive. And Paul meets Jesus on the road . . . a light from heaven . . . a voice from the skies . . . and Saul is facedown before the risen Christ whom he has persecuted. And when he arises, he who has finally seen the way, is blind and is told to go take a “timeout”. And for three days, though he has been brought into marvelous light through the sacrifice of Christ and the grace of God, he is allowed to sit in darkness that he might fast and pray and think . . . oh, so much to think about.

Paul’s the guy . . . he’s the center of the story . . . he’s the star player . . . it’s his biography that people will buy and talk about for centuries to come.

Now there was a disciple at Damascus named Ananias. The Lord said to him in a vision, “Ananias.” And he said, “Here I am, Lord.” And the Lord said to him, “Rise and go to the street called Straight, and at the house of Judas look for a man of Tarsus named Saul, for behold, he is praying, and he has seen in a vision a man named Ananias come in and lay his hands on him so that he might regain his sight.”   (Acts 9:10-12 ESV)

Out of the blue, we’re introduced to this disciple from Damascus. This is his “15 minutes of fame.” And in that “15 minutes” he captures a number of “records” which will are inscribed forever in heaven’s “hall of fame”. The first to know of the risen Christ’s claim on Saul’s life . . . the first to hear of the marching order that would define Saul’s mission . . . the first disciple of Christ to go and seek out Saul rather than run from him . . . the first to lay hands of blessing on Saul (though many would have liked to have laid their hands around Saul’s throat) . . . the first to call Saul “brother” . . . the first to witness the Holy Spirit coming upon Saul. And then . . . he’s gone . . . vanished . . . not mentioned again in Holy Scripture save as a piece of the puzzle in Paul’s testimony (Acts 22:12-16). But what a piece!

And as I’m thinking about Ananias, I’m thinking about those things which are done for Christ which, if noticed at all, are quickly forgotten. Service done in obedience to the risen Lord which never makes the front page. Supporting roles played according to God’s sovereign plan which, if they get any billing at all, are on the last page in the fine print. But acts of obedience which can have eternal implications. Pieces of the puzzle which, though blending into a much bigger picture, are ordained of God . . . and put in place through the Spirit’s leading . . . in order that the purposes of God might be fulfilled.

Oh, that I might be content to be a blip . . . that I might be faithful as a water boy . . . that I might be available to be a piece in God’s puzzle, placed where He determines . . . not for my “15 minutes of fame” . . . but for His glory alone . . . amen.