A Shipwrecked Narcissist Meets God the Miraculous
Wrecked by Sin and Storm but Restacked by God
Paul (Saul) was a shipwreck long before he washed up on the shores of Malta.
Before the prison cells and missionary journeys, before the letters that helped to shape Christian theology, he was a man fueled by fury. He hunted Christians, not just opposed them. He raided homes. Dragged people out (men and women) and imprisoned them. He may have provided testimony that encouraged executions. He stood in approval as Stephen was stoned. He carried papers with authority to destroy.
He was downright scary.
And he did it all in the name of misguided truth.
Why?
Was it really just a theology dispute over faith versus works?
That’s part of it—but it doesn’t go deep enough. And God seems to ask me to look deeper—part of why I once majored in psychology. :-) Paul’s fury wasn’t academic or even logical. It was personal, tribal, and spiritual. The kind that burns when your whole world feels threatened.
Pre-Paul was actually what we now call narcissistic. 1 Although I don’t believe this was the entire issue, because of my training in domestic violence/abuse, I can’t help but see it. He believed he was right and above/more important than others (entitlement), that everyone else should see things that way, and that it was his duty to inform them of it—even unto death.
Power Over
Religious certainty without love always harms—that’s what we call spiritual abuse. It stems from a lack of relationship with the real Christ. Following the absolute law of God’s word, without balancing the love He has for us, hurts and wounds. If law and love are unbalanced, there is abuse.2 And, sadly, we see some doing that even here on Substack. They might as well just be shouting: IT’S ALL ABOUT THE RULES, PEOPLE.
Yeah, that’s what Pre-Paul felt, too. And look where that led him.
Sometimes we’re the most lost when we’re most convinced we’ve been found.
Traits of Narcissism in Saul:
Lack of empathy for those he persecuted: He approved of imprisoning and even killing Christians without apparent remorse.
Need for control and dominance: His efforts to suppress the early church reflect a strong drive to control the religious narrative and maintain status quo power.
Resistance to challenge: He aggressively attacked a movement that challenged his identity and beliefs, showing rigidity.
Grandiosity about his own righteousness and authority: As mentioned, Saul saw himself as the guardian of truth and religious purity, above others, fiercely protecting the system.
Possible low self-confidence beneath the zeal: Often, narcissism involves an underlying vulnerability (past trauma) masked by outward confidence and aggression.
Let’s examine his background. Saul was a Pharisee, educated in the Law, and deeply committed to the traditions of his ancestors. In that world, the Law wasn’t merely a religion—it was an identity. It represented the covenant and was how Israel survived. Following Jesus wasn’t just a doctrinal disagreement; in Paul’s view, it was betrayal. It was blasphemy—a threat to the entire community.
Saul thought he was protecting God’s name, just like narcissists, who also guard the power they feel they have (and often do hold over particular people, systems, nations, or churches). Like Saul, they usually see it as “for the greater good.”
But What Else?
I had to keep going. Under the rage, could there have been something else going on with Saul? Since fear is often a human motivator, I decided to look at that. Let’s consider the possibility of the following:
Fear of losing control. Saul’s zeal was fanatical, rooted in a worldview that demanded purity at all costs. Zealotry often doesn’t negotiate. When something is seen as threatening what is “true,” the response can be harsh, unforgiving, and total. It’s like a protective instinct on steroids—an absolutism where anything seen as heresy must be eliminated, no exceptions. The religious leaders’ authority was intertwined with identity and social order. The Christian sect could dismantle the entire social fabric. Saul’s insistence might reflect this deep fear of losing control over a whole community’s cohesion and safety. A grace-based gospel meant letting go.
Fear of losing approval. Saul’s status and identity were also wrapped up in the approval of his peers and mentors. Accepting Jesus as Messiah would’ve meant betraying the very people who raised him up, and possibly being ostracized. He had power, prestige, and the admiration of the religious elite. He was climbing fast in the religious world, and a grace-based, inclusive system threatened that.
Fear of freedom itself. If righteousness is no longer earned and everything you knew unraveled, what anchors your value? Paul had built his significance on striving, discipline, and spiritual performance, not on a relationship with God.
Fear of Change. Accepting Jesus meant more than changing theology—it meant changing direction, heart, community, and even calling. It meant toppling his very foundation. To claim that a crucified man was the Messiah—and that salvation came through him rather than the Law—was blasphemy and a threat to everything sacred. And, what if following Jesus demanded everything?
Fear of Judgement. If the Christians were right… then Saul wasn’t just wrong—he was guilty. Of persecution, bloodshed, and murder. Of standing against God. Rage can be a mask for guilt. And violence a potential way to silence the still, small voice of conviction. To Saul, protecting the Jewish people from false teaching was a matter of national survival and divine favor. With Israel’s long history of exile and punishment for disobedience, Saul might have believed that spreading this Jesus movement could bring judgment on all of them. He was saving his people from wrath by silencing the spiritual treason. And what if he’d gotten it wrong? It may seem like narcissists never have doubts, but deep down, like all humans, they do. Stomping on people doesn’t mean undying confidence—in fact, it often means the opposite.
Fear of the Bigger Consequences - Christianity’s claim of grace challenged everything sacred to Judaism. Early Christians weren’t just “wrong.” They were dangerously wrong in his view—polluting the truth, corrupting the community, and leading people astray. In this worldview, extreme measures, even death, were seen as necessary to protect God’s covenant people and preserve divine favor. Paul believed he was fighting not just human dissent but widespread rebellion against God’s covenant. It wasn’t negotiable. The call was to eradicate the spiritual poison.
Although none of the above is ever an excuse to hurt others, it provides a more well-rounded picture. And if we’re honest, we’ve all had those moments when someone else’s freedom shakes our foundation—when someone else’s story threatens our structure. Often, our first reaction is not surrender but control. Narcissistic people, of course, take that to the extreme.
Paul knew Scripture, but not Jesus.
He was spiritually brilliant—but spiritually blind. That’s why Jesus says, “It is hard for you to kick against the goads.” (Acts 26:14) —meaning: you’re resisting the truth that’s already poking at your heart.
Saul’s rage wasn’t just about what others were doing. It was about what God was trying to undo in him. And the ultimate irony? God used the intensity—his murderous zeal—to transform him. God rewrote his story, showing how even the darkest zeal can be turned to passionate, divine purpose.
God Never Left
God loved Saul too much to leave Him there.
Much like He has done with some of us.
He broke through this barrier—with light, with silence, and by pulling the rug out from under Saul. He knocked this man, perched on a very high self-pedestal, to the ground and blinded him. He took away the very sense that allowed Saul to continue his waywardness.
And He spoke to him.
It appears that Paul was shocked—perhaps even shattered. He had been certain. Now he was broken. Can you imagine the holy Lord striking you down, sadly and squarely asking you what in the holy heavens were you thinking? Destroying everything you thought was true in one (miraculous) move? Humbling you to the point of complete darkness and fear, needing care from other people, and even causing a three-day fast, including liquids? Whether this fast was due to no hunger/thirst (as can happen with severe stress), depression, tremendous guilt/grief, doubting his experience, or enjoying time with God, we do not know. (Let’s ask someday!)
Perhaps, like me, he was dumbstruck by a miraculous experience and fought to stay earthbound once he’d experienced the glory. Because God didn’t just change his direction—He broke him apart to build something new.
Shattered by mercy.
The Shipwreck
The fury that once fueled Paul became the fire that sustained him.
Years later, a storm at sea. Fourteen days without sun or stars. Winds too fierce to fight. Hope frayed. The ship creaked and groaned toward its breaking point. But Paul stood in the chaos and said something almost ridiculous: “Take heart. Not one of you will perish.”
What? How could he be so certain?
Because an angel had stood beside him in the night and told him they would run aground on some unknown island. But that God had granted safety to all aboard.
And it happened. The ship was lost, but the people were not.
Paul came ashore soaked and battered—and then bitten by a venomous snake. The locals waited for him to swell up and die. But he didn’t. He just shook it off into the fire. And instead of dying, he prayed and healed the sick. Miracles bloomed from brokenness.
There’s a miracle. Not just surviving blindness, a storm, a bite, or a wreck—but becoming someone who holds eternal focus (and therefore peace) when everything is sinking.
Maybe you feel like a wreck.
Maybe you are one.
Take heart.
God does not fear broken things. He wants to rebuild you. Sometimes the ship has to fall apart so the soul can reach shore.
More Miraculous Things Paul Partook In
Healed a man crippled from birth. (Acts 14:8–10)
Cast out a spirit of divination. (Acts 16:16–18)
Released from prison via an earthquake. Set others free. (Acts 16:25–26)
Baptized people and laid hands while the Holy Spirit came—they spoke in tongues and prophesied. (Acts 19:1-6)
Touched Handkerchiefs and aprons that then healed the sick and drew out demons. (Acts 19:11–12)
Raised a young man from the dead who had fallen out of a high window while listening to Paul (oops). (Acts 20:7–12)
Caught up to the “third heaven,” hearing divine mysteries, potential near-death experience. (2 Corinthians 12:1–7)
Download a free copy of the book: Glimpses of Heaven: A Mini-Collection of Divine Encounters. Please share it with someone who could use encouragement.
A note on narcissism. Although the term is widely used today, there is a difference between using traits of narcissism and being diagnosed with narcissistic personality disorder. Most people who are abusive do show narcissistic traits. But less than 10% of them would actually meet the qualifications to be diagnosed with this mental health disorder.
Her Journey, ManKind and Virtue curriculum © ARMS/Abuse Recovery Ministry Services
I have difficulty w/ much of Paul's writing; he seem quite judgemental at times, and his writing is often convoluted and difficult to follow. But I can't deny God used him, despite his considerable emotional problems and internal conflict. It gives hope for all of us.
Thank you for this insightful post, Julie. It’s amazing how God can use someone … their past, good and bad, their weaknesses and their strengths … and turn it all into something good for His kingdom. A fictional book I read by Angela Hunt, “The Apostles Sister” gave me an entirely new perspective on Paul and also the Jewish people of that time.