Chapter 7: The Martyr’s Code
Ten weeks after Pentecost
Stephen stood before the largest tech conference in Jerusalem’s history, but his mind was on the vision he’d received that morning—a glimpse of Jesus standing at the right hand of the Father, preparing to receive the first martyr of the digital age.
The auditorium held three thousand of the most influential people in Israeli society: tech entrepreneurs, government officials, religious leaders, academics, and media executives. His presentation, “Kingdom Operating Systems: When Divine Love Meets Digital Distribution,” was scheduled to revolutionize how human beings thought about organizing society itself.
But as Stephen looked out at the crowd, he saw something others couldn’t see—the spiritual forces arrayed against the message he was about to deliver. This wasn’t just a technology presentation. This was a prophetic declaration that would shake every power structure in the room.
“Brothers and fathers, listen to me,” Stephen began, his voice carrying the same anointing that had enabled him to perform great wonders and signs among the people. “The God of glory appeared to our father Abraham when he was in Mesopotamia, before he dwelt in Haran, and said to him, ‘Get out of your country and from your relatives, and come to a land that I will show you.'”
The audience shifted uncomfortably. They had expected a technology presentation, not a history lesson from the Hebrew scriptures.
But Stephen was operating under divine compulsion, speaking words that were being burned into his spirit by the Holy Ghost. “You stiff-necked and uncircumcised in heart and ears! You always resist the Holy Spirit; as your fathers did, so do you. Which of the prophets did your fathers not persecute? And they killed those who foretold the coming of the Just One, of whom you now have become the betrayers and murderers.”
The religious leaders in the audience felt conviction pierce their hearts like daggers. Stephen wasn’t just challenging their technology—he was exposing their spiritual rebellion against the God they claimed to serve.
“You who have received the law by the direction of angels and have not kept it!” Stephen’s voice rose as the Spirit of prophecy gripped him completely. “You have made technology your idol instead of using it to serve the Kingdom of Heaven!”
The audience erupted. Security guards moved toward the stage, but Stephen’s eyes were no longer seeing the natural realm.
“Look! I see the heavens opened and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God!”
The Digital Stoning
What happened next would be remembered as the first martyrdom of the social media age. Instead of literal stones, Stephen faced a coordinated digital assassination campaign launched in real time from devices throughout the auditorium.
Saul Ravenstein, sitting in the front row, activated Guardian Angel’s most sophisticated attack protocol. Within seconds, Stephen’s reputation was being systematically destroyed across every digital platform simultaneously.
False accusations flooded social media. Deepfake videos appeared showing Stephen making inflammatory statements he’d never uttered. His financial records were hacked and altered to suggest embezzlement. His family members received death threats. His employment history was rewritten to include fabricated scandals.
But the most devastating attack was the simplest: his words at the conference were edited, spliced, and redistributed to make him appear to be advocating for the violent overthrow of government and religious institutions.
“Lord Jesus, receive my spirit,” Stephen prayed as he watched his digital life being murdered in real time. The young man who had revolutionized distribution systems for the Kingdom was being destroyed by the very technology he had tried to redeem.
“Lord, do not charge them with this sin,” Stephen whispered as his phone showed notification after notification of friends, colleagues, and even family members turning against him based on the manufactured evidence.
Within six hours, Stephen’s life had been effectively ended. No physical violence was necessary—digital assassination proved far more efficient and legally untraceable.
Young Saul Ravenstein watched it all happen with a mixture of professional satisfaction and unexpected spiritual unease. He had eliminated the greatest threat to institutional stability the movement had yet produced.
But as Stephen’s body was found the next morning—an apparent suicide, according to the official report—Saul couldn’t shake the memory of the young man’s face as he had looked toward heaven and spoken of seeing Jesus.
Chapter 8: The Great Scattering
The day after Stephen’s death
Miriam Chen packed her laptop and cameras with hands that wouldn’t stop shaking. As an investigative journalist, she’d covered wars, natural disasters, and political upheavals. But she’d never witnessed the systematic destruction of an innocent man through digital weaponry.
Stephen’s death had triggered exactly what Saul intended: the great persecution that would scatter the Jerusalem church like seeds blown by a hurricane. House church leaders were fleeing the city, believers were deleting their “Way” platform accounts, and the movement that had seemed unstoppable was suddenly running for its life.
“Where will you go?” Peter asked as Miriam prepared to leave Jerusalem. The apostles themselves were staying—not from bravery, but from divine directive. Jesus had told them to remain in the city until they were endued with power from on high, and that commissioning included staying to shepherd the flock even under persecution.
“Samaria,” Miriam replied. “I’ve been in contact with Philip. He says the Lord has been preparing him for something there.”
Peter nodded, his eyes holding the sadness of a shepherd watching his sheep scatter but also the faith of someone who had learned to trust God’s plans even when they looked like disasters.
“Remember,” Peter said, placing his hands on Miriam’s head in blessing, “you are not fleeing from God’s will—you are fulfilling it. Jesus said we would be witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth. Stephen’s death is not stopping the mission. It’s launching the next phase.”
Philip in Samaria – Two weeks later
The notification on Philip’s phone came at sunrise: “Divine appointment confirmed. Proceed to city of Samaria. Prepare for supernatural breakthrough among people previously considered unreachable.”
Philip had been operating in prophetic gifts since Pentecost, but this was different—a direct commission that felt as clear as the voice Moses had heard from the burning bush.
Samaria was the last place any self-respecting Jew would choose for ministry. The ancient hatred between Jews and Samaritans ran deeper than politics or culture—it was theological, racial, and generational. But the same Spirit who had filled the Upper Room was now directing Philip to cross every barrier his upbringing had taught him to maintain.
Within hours of arriving in the city, Philip was livestreaming to a growing crowd of Samaritans who had never heard the Gospel message presented without the filter of Jewish superiority or religious condescension.
“The Kingdom of Heaven is at hand,” Philip proclaimed, his words carrying the same authority that had marked Stephen’s ministry. “And this Kingdom knows no racial boundaries, no cultural barriers, no religious prerequisites except faith in Jesus Christ.”
The power that had operated through the apostles in Jerusalem was now manifesting in Samaria with even greater intensity. Unclean spirits came out of people, screaming as they left. Those who were paralyzed and lame were healed. The deaf heard, the blind saw, and the broken-hearted received joy that transformed entire families.
But most remarkably, the same economic sharing that had characterized the Jerusalem church began happening spontaneously among the Samaritans. They didn’t need training or encouragement—the Holy Spirit was teaching them directly to love their neighbors as themselves.
“Miriam,” Philip called to the journalist who had followed him from Jerusalem, “are you getting this?”
Miriam’s camera captured scenes that defied every stereotype about Samaritan culture. Former enemies were embracing as brothers. Ancient family feuds were being resolved through forgiveness and restitution. A community that had been divided by generations of conflict was becoming unified through supernatural love.
“This is what Jesus meant,” Philip said to his livestream audience of 50,000 viewers worldwide, “when He said that in Him there is neither Jew nor Greek, neither bond nor free, neither male nor female—but all are one in Christ Jesus.”
Guardian Angel Response Protocol
Saul watched the Samaria reports with growing alarm. Stephen’s elimination was supposed to have crippled the movement by removing its most systematic thinker. Instead, it had accomplished exactly what the apostles had predicted—scattering the believers like seeds that were now growing into an international harvest.
“Sir, the Samaria outbreak is unprecedented,” Rebecca reported, her voice carrying a mixture of professional analysis and personal awe. “Philip’s ministry there is producing documented miracles that are being verified by medical professionals, sociologists, and even government officials.”
“What kind of verification?”
“Complete societal transformation, sir. Crime rates have dropped 60% in areas where house churches are active. Economic indicators are improving faster than any development program has ever achieved. And the healings…” Rebecca paused.
“What about the healings?”
“Sir, the Samaritan Health Ministry is confirming creative miracles that have no medical explanation. People born without limbs are growing new appendages. Terminal cancer patients are being completely healed. Genetic disorders are being reversed.”
Saul felt the familiar cold grip of fear around his heart. He had studied enough Jewish history to recognize the pattern—when God was moving through His people, opposing them meant opposing the Almighty Himself.
“Rebecca, I want a full analysis of their funding sources. How are they supporting these operations? What’s their organizational structure? There has to be a way to disrupt this.”
But even as he gave the orders, Saul was beginning to suspect that he was fighting something that couldn’t be stopped by human strategies. Stephen’s death had taught him that he could destroy individuals, but the movement itself seemed to grow stronger through persecution.
Which meant that either he had to escalate to levels of violence that would make him a monster, or he had to consider the possibility that he was fighting against the God of his fathers.
Chapter 9: The Ethiopian Connection
Three weeks after Stephen’s martyrdom
The notification on Philip’s phone came while he was baptizing new converts in a Samaritan river: “Leave immediately. Go south to the road that goes down from Jerusalem to Gaza. This road is desert. Divine appointment waiting.”
Philip stared at the message, which had appeared on his phone despite having no cell service in the remote location where they were ministering. The same supernatural communication system that had guided the apostles was now directing him toward something that made no logical sense.
“I have to go,” Philip announced to the crowd of Samaritans who had gathered for the baptism service. “The Spirit is sending me somewhere else.”
“But the revival is just beginning here,” Miriam protested. “Thousands of people are ready to commit their lives to Christ. Why would God call you away now?”
Philip smiled with the peace of someone who had learned to trust divine timing over human logic. “Because God’s plans are bigger than our understanding. The harvest in Samaria will continue—the Holy Spirit doesn’t need me to sustain what He has started. But somewhere else, there’s someone who needs to hear this message for the first time.”
The Desert Road – That afternoon
Philip’s rideshare driver thought he was crazy for wanting to go to the middle of nowhere, but the GPS coordinates had been supernaturally specific. As they approached the desolate stretch of road between Jerusalem and Gaza, Philip saw exactly what the Lord had arranged: a convoy of black SUVs with diplomatic plates, stopped by the roadside.
“This is my stop,” Philip told the confused driver, and stepped out into the blazing desert heat.
The man sitting in the back seat of the lead vehicle was reading from a tablet, his expression showing the deep concentration of someone wrestling with profound spiritual questions. Philip recognized him immediately from international news coverage: Kandace, the Ethiopian Finance Minister, one of the most powerful people in African politics.
As Philip approached the vehicle, the electric window rolled down.
“Excuse me,” Kandace said in perfect English, his voice carrying the cultured accent of someone educated at Oxford and Harvard, “you wouldn’t happen to be a religious scholar, would you? I’m reading something here that I can’t understand.”
Philip felt the familiar stirring of divine appointment—the sense that every circumstance had been orchestrated by Heaven for this exact moment.
“What are you reading?” Philip asked.
Kandace held up his tablet, showing the passage from Isaiah 53: “‘He was led as a sheep to the slaughter; and like a lamb silent before its shearer, so He opened not His mouth. In His humiliation His justice was taken away, and who will declare His generation? For His life is taken from the earth.'”
“Do you understand what you’re reading?” Philip asked gently.
“How can I, unless someone guides me?” Kandace replied, echoing the words of every honest seeker throughout history. “I’ve been studying your Jewish scriptures, trying to understand the spiritual foundations of social justice. But this passage… who is the prophet talking about? Himself, or someone else?”
Philip felt the anointing of the Holy Spirit settle upon him as he recognized the divine setup. Here was a man with the power to influence an entire continent, hungry for spiritual truth, reading the exact passage that would lead him to Jesus.
“Then Philip opened his mouth, and beginning at this Scripture, preached Jesus to him.”
The Baptism
For the next hour, as the diplomatic convoy sat in the desert heat, Philip explained how every prophecy, every promise, every provision in the Hebrew scriptures found its fulfillment in Jesus of Nazareth. He showed Kandace how the suffering servant of Isaiah 53 was the same Messiah who had risen from the dead and was now transforming lives around the world.
Kandace listened with the intensity of someone whose entire worldview was being revolutionized. As a powerful political figure, he understood systems and structures. But as Philip spoke, he began to understand that the Kingdom of Heaven operated by entirely different principles than earthly governments.
“Minister,” Philip said finally, “do you believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God?”
“I believe with all my heart,” Kandace replied, and in that moment the Spirit of God fell upon him with the same power that had filled the Ethiopian eunuch two thousand years earlier.
“Look, here is water,” Kandace said, pointing to an oasis that appeared in the desert exactly when it was needed. “What hinders me from being baptized?”
Philip and Kandace went down into the water together, and Philip baptized him in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins and the gift of the Holy Spirit.
When they came up out of the water, something supernatural happened. Philip vanished—not metaphorically, but literally translated by the Spirit of God to another location, just as Elijah had been caught up and Enoch had been taken.
Kandace went on his way rejoicing, but more importantly, he went back to Ethiopia carrying the Gospel to a continent that was ready for revival.
Guardian Angel Alert System
The alert reached Saul’s phone while he was reviewing reports from the Samaria operations: “High-priority intelligence: Ethiopian government official has been exposed to the movement. Potential for international expansion through diplomatic channels.”
Saul pulled up the surveillance data from the Gaza road incident. His satellites had tracked Philip’s movements to the desert meeting, but the footage from the baptism showed something that made his blood run cold.
Philip had simply disappeared. One moment he was standing in the water with the Ethiopian official, and the next moment he was gone—without any technological explanation.
“Rebecca,” Saul called to his chief analyst, “I need a full background check on this Ethiopian finance minister. And I want to know how Philip transported himself from Gaza to Azotus in less than ten minutes.”
“Sir, about Philip’s transportation…”
“What about it?”
“Sir, according to every tracking system we have, Philip didn’t use any known method of travel. He simply ceased to exist in Gaza and began to exist in Azotus, with no time gap.”
Saul stared at the data, remembering stories from his childhood about Elijah being carried by whirlwinds and Philip the evangelist being translated by the Spirit of God.
If these stories were literally true—if the God of Israel was actually moving through these believers with the same supernatural power that had parted the Red Sea and raised the dead—then Saul wasn’t fighting religious extremists.
He was fighting the Creator of the universe.
And that was a war he was destined to lose.
Chapter 10: The Persecutor’s Commission
Eight weeks after Stephen’s death
Saul Ravenstein stood in his office overlooking Jerusalem, but his mind was consumed with the intelligence reports scattered across his desk. In two months, the movement he thought he’d crippled had metastasized across three continents.
House churches were multiplying exponentially in Cyprus, Antioch, Phoenicia, and now Africa through the Ethiopian connection. Every persecution strategy had backfired, every arrest had created martyrs, every technological countermeasure had been overcome by supernatural intervention.
But most disturbing of all were the reports about Damascus.
“Sir,” Rebecca entered with a tablet full of satellite imagery, “the Syrian intelligence is requesting immediate assistance. They’re reporting unprecedented growth of the movement in Damascus, with documented supernatural manifestations that are destabilizing their social control systems.”
Saul studied the images showing crowds gathered around house churches throughout the ancient city. Damascus had always been a critical strategic location—close enough to Jerusalem to serve as a coordination hub, but outside Israeli jurisdiction where arrests and intimidation were more difficult.
“What kind of supernatural manifestations?”
“Healings verified by multiple medical facilities, sir. Financial miracles that can’t be explained by economic analysis. And social transformations that are affecting government stability.”
Saul felt the familiar mixture of professional duty and personal terror. As head of digital security for the Sanhedrin, he had authority to pursue threats to religious stability wherever they led. But as a Pharisee trained in the scriptures, he was increasingly aware that he might be fighting against the very God he claimed to serve.
“Rebecca, prepare travel authorization for Damascus. I’m going personally.”
“Sir, is that wise? Your digital warfare strategies have been effective from a distance. Why risk direct confrontation?”
Saul turned from the window, his eyes carrying the intensity of someone driven by forces beyond rational calculation. “Because this isn’t just about digital security anymore. This is about the survival of everything I’ve believed my entire life.”
“Sir?”
“If these people are deluded fanatics, then I can stop them through superior strategy and technology. But if they’re actually representatives of the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob…” Saul paused, the words sticking in his throat.
“Then we’re fighting against Heaven itself,” Rebecca finished quietly.
“Exactly. And I need to know which it is.”
The Road to Damascus – Three days later
The convoy of black vehicles moved through the Syrian countryside like a military operation, which in many ways it was. Saul had brought a team of twelve digital specialists, each equipped with the most sophisticated surveillance and disruption technology Guardian Angel had ever deployed.
Their mission was simple: identify the leadership structure of the Damascus house churches, infiltrate their communication networks, and eliminate their operational capacity through coordinated digital assassination campaigns.
But as they approached the city limits, Saul felt something he’d never experienced before—a growing sense of spiritual oppression, as if invisible forces were arrayed against his mission.
“Sir, we’re getting unusual readings,” his technical specialist reported from the front vehicle. “All our equipment is showing electromagnetic anomalies that don’t match any known weather or atmospheric conditions.”
Saul checked his own devices. GPS systems were fluctuating wildly. Communication networks were experiencing unexplained interference. Even their secure satellite uplinks were showing data corruption that followed no recognizable pattern.
“Probably solar flare activity,” Saul muttered, but his voice lacked conviction. He’d studied enough Jewish mysticism to recognize when natural explanations were insufficient for supernatural phenomena.
At exactly noon, as the convoy crested a hill overlooking Damascus, the sky exploded with light.
The Encounter
It wasn’t the sun. It wasn’t lightning. It wasn’t any form of electromagnetic energy that human science had cataloged or understood. It was the Shekinah glory of the God of Israel, appearing to a Pharisee who had spent his life fighting against the very Messiah he claimed to be waiting for.
“Saul! Saul!” The voice that spoke from the light carried absolute authority—the voice of the Creator addressing His creation, the voice of the Judge speaking to the accused, the voice of Love confronting rebellion.
“Why are you persecuting Me?”
Saul fell from his vehicle to the ground, not from physical force but from the weight of divine presence that human flesh cannot bear. Every defense mechanism he’d built, every rationalization he’d constructed, every technological advantage he’d relied upon was stripped away in an instant.
“Who are You, Lord?” Saul asked, though something in his spirit already knew the answer.
“I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. It is hard for you to kick against the goads.”
In that moment, Saul understood everything. The healings were real because Jesus was alive. The supernatural provision was genuine because the Creator was providing for His people. The movement was unstoppable because it was directed by the King of the universe.
And every strategy Saul had deployed against the believers had been an attack against Christ Himself.
“What do You want me to do, Lord?” Saul whispered, his voice breaking with the weight of absolute surrender.
“Arise and go into the city, and you will be told what you must do.”
The Blindness
When Saul struggled to his feet, he realized that the glory he had seen had burned out his physical vision. For three days he would sit in Damascus unable to see, unable to eat, unable to drink—learning what it meant to depend completely on the grace of the God he had been fighting.
His team carried him into the city, their sophisticated equipment permanently disabled by the electromagnetic effects of the divine encounter. The great persecutor had become a helpless blind man, dependent on the mercy of the very people he had come to destroy.
And in a small house church across the city, a believer named Ananias was receiving a vision that would change the course of human history: “Go to the house of Judas on Straight Street, and ask for a man called Saul of Tarsus, for behold, he is praying.”
The greatest enemy of the church was about to become its greatest champion.
But first, he had to learn what it meant to be broken, humbled, and completely dependent on the grace of the God whose mercy is greater than human understanding.
“And immediately there fell from his eyes something like scales, and he received his sight at once; and he arose and was baptized.” – Acts 9:18
Chapter 11: The Reluctant Prophet
Three days after the Damascus road
Ananias Chen had been praying when the vision came—not the gentle prompting that usually guided his daily decisions, but the kind of direct divine communication that leaves no room for doubt or delay.
“Ananias.”
“Here I am, Lord.”
“Arise and go to the street called Straight, and inquire at the house of Judas for one called Saul of Tarsus, for behold, he is praying.”
Ananias froze. Every believer in Damascus knew that name. Saul Ravenstein was the architect of the persecution that had scattered the Jerusalem church, the mastermind behind Stephen’s digital assassination, the man whose Guardian Angel system had made being a Christian dangerous in any connected city.
“Lord,” Ananias replied carefully, “I have heard from many about this man, how much harm he has done to Your saints in Jerusalem. And here he has authority from the chief priests to bind all who call on Your name.”
The response came with the authority of eternal decree: “Go, for he is a chosen vessel of Mine to bear My name before Gentiles, kings, and the children of Israel. For I will show him how many things he must suffer for My name’s sake.”
Straight Street – That afternoon
The house was easy to find—not because Ananias had an address, but because the Spirit of God was providing supernatural GPS that guided him step by step through Damascus’s winding streets.
Judas answered the door with the nervous expression of someone who’d been harboring a wanted fugitive for three days. “He’s in the back room,” Judas whispered. “Hasn’t eaten anything since he arrived. Just sits there praying in languages I’ve never heard.”
Ananias found Saul exactly as the vision had shown him—sitting in darkness, his sophisticated technology useless, his eyes clouded with blindness, completely dependent on the mercy of strangers.
But the man Ananias saw was not the arrogant persecutor of reputation. This was a broken human being who had encountered the living God and was still processing the cosmic realignment of everything he thought he knew.
“Brother Saul,” Ananias said gently, and immediately felt the presence of the Holy Spirit fall upon the room like fire.
Saul’s head snapped up. “How do you know to call me brother?”
“Because the Lord Jesus, who appeared to you on the road as you came, has sent me that you may receive your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit.”
As Ananias laid hands on Saul’s eyes, something like scales fell away, and sight returned not just to his physical vision but to his spiritual understanding. For the first time in his life, Saul could see clearly—and what he saw was the magnitude of God’s mercy toward someone who had spent years fighting against Heaven.
“I need to be baptized,” Saul said, his voice thick with emotion. “I need to be cleansed from everything I’ve done against Christ and His people.”
The Baptism
They went to the Barada River that evening—Ananias, Judas, and three other believers who served as witnesses to what might have been the most significant baptism since Jesus Himself had gone down into the Jordan.
“Saul Ravenstein,” Ananias declared as they stood in the flowing water, “based on your confession of faith in Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior, I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, for the remission of sins and the gift of the Holy Spirit.”
When Saul came up out of the water, the change was immediately visible. The hardness that had characterized his features was gone, replaced by the tenderness of someone who had experienced undeserved grace. The calculating intensity of his eyes had been transformed into the joy of someone who had discovered that his greatest enemy had become his deepest love.
But more than emotional transformation, Saul was receiving spiritual gifts that would equip him for the mission God had planned. Languages he’d never studied became clear in his mind. Understanding of scriptures he’d memorized but never truly comprehended flooded his consciousness. And most remarkably, he began to see strategic possibilities for advancing the Kingdom of God that combined his technological expertise with apostolic authority.
“Brothers,” Saul said as they emerged from the river, “I need to tell you what the Lord showed me on the road. This movement—what we’re part of—it’s not just for Jews or even for the people we consider reachable. Jesus commissioned me specifically to take His name to the Gentiles, to kings, to people who have never heard the Gospel.”
Ananias felt the witness of the Spirit confirming Saul’s words. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that the same Guardian Angel system I built to persecute believers could be repurposed to coordinate global evangelism. The same technological infrastructure that tracked down Christians could be used to plant churches in every nation on earth.”
The other believers exchanged glances. This was either the most brilliant ministry strategy they’d ever heard, or the most dangerous delusion a new convert had ever conceived.
“Saul,” Judas said carefully, “are you sure you’re not moving too fast? Maybe you should spend some time learning from the apostles before you start planning global campaigns.”
But Saul’s eyes were already filled with visions that stretched far beyond human planning. “Brothers, I spent three days in the presence of the risen Christ. He didn’t just save me—He downloaded a mission that will take the rest of my life to complete. And we don’t have time to waste.”
Guardian Angel Conversion Protocol
The next morning, Saul returned to his team’s Damascus headquarters with a request that stunned his technical specialists: “I need you to help me reprogram every Guardian Angel protocol we’ve developed.”
“Sir,” Rebecca looked confused, “reprogram them how?”
“Instead of tracking believers to persecute them, we’re going to track unreached people groups to evangelize them. Instead of disrupting house church networks, we’re going to facilitate their multiplication. Instead of spreading disinformation about Jesus, we’re going to use every communication channel we’ve developed to spread the Gospel.”
The room went silent. Rebecca was the first to speak: “Sir, are you saying you’ve become one of them?”
“I’m saying that Jesus Christ appeared to me personally and commissioned me as an apostle to the Gentiles. Everything we’ve learned about network effects, viral communication, and social transformation—all of it was preparation for this moment.”
Saul opened his laptop and began pulling up systems architectures that his team had spent months developing. “Look at this global connectivity map. Look at these influence network analyses. Look at these demographic targeting algorithms. We built the perfect evangelism platform while thinking we were building a persecution tool.”
“But sir,” another technician protested, “won’t this destroy your career? Your reputation? Your standing with the Sanhedrin?”
Saul smiled with the peace of someone whose identity had been completely redefined by divine encounter. “My career was fighting against God. My reputation was built on opposing the truth. My standing was with people who crucified the Messiah.”
He paused, looking around the room at faces that were struggling to process the transformation they were witnessing.
“But now I have a new career: advancing the Kingdom of Heaven. A new reputation: bondservant of Jesus Christ. And new standing: with the apostles who are turning the world upside down.”
“So what happens to us?” Rebecca asked quietly.
“That depends,” Saul replied. “Are you ready to help me plant churches in every major city between here and Rome? Because that’s the vision Jesus gave me, and I’m going to need the best technology team in the world to make it happen.”
As his team contemplated the most radical career change in the history of tech entrepreneurship, Saul was already designing the campaigns that would carry the Gospel to the ends of the earth.
The great persecutor had become the great pioneer.
And the same systematic thinking that had made him dangerous to the church was about to make him the most effective church planter in human history.
“But the Lord said to him, ‘Go, for he is a chosen vessel of Mine to bear My name before Gentiles, kings, and the children of Israel.'” – Acts 9:15
