Was He Who He Said He Was?

By Scott Prentice

In the quiet hours of study, when the world’s noise fades and the pages of Scripture turn under a single lamp, I’ve often paused to wonder: What if the foundation stones of our faith aren’t as solid as we’ve been taught? For years, I’ve immersed myself in the life and letters of the Apostle Paul, a figure whose influence towers over modern Christianity like a colossus. His epistles form the backbone of most sermons I’ve heard—messages on grace, faith alone, and the freedom from the Law that echo from pulpits worldwide. Yet, as I’ve delved deeper, a question has gnawed at me: Was Paul truly who he claimed to be?

This isn’t a casual doubt born of rebellion. It’s the fruit of honest inquiry, sparked by a simple plea in prayer: “Lord, show me the heart of Your words.” What emerged wasn’t a dismissal of Paul but a rediscovery of Jesus—the itinerant teacher whose commands, as John so urgently wrote, define eternal life: “And this is eternal life, that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent” (John 17:3, ESV). Jesus Himself emphasized obedience to His teachings as the litmus test of love: “If you love me, you will keep my commandments” (John 14:15). But in too many churches today, those commands gather dust while Paul’s doctrines take center stage. Grace is preached as a license to sidestep the Sermon on the Mount, and the radical call to Torah fidelity in Matthew 5 is traded for abstract theology.

In this article, I’ll share the storyline that has unfolded in my studies—a narrative pieced together from Scripture itself, highlighting scenarios often overlooked in Sunday services. I’ll present the strongest cases for scrutiny, not to dictate conclusions, but to invite you, the reader, to weigh them against the Master’s voice. After all, Jesus warned us Himself: “Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves. You will recognize them by their fruits” (Matthew 7:15-16). And strikingly, Paul echoed that very caution, urging the church to test every spirit: “Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, for many false prophets have gone out into the world” (1 John 4:1). If Paul was genuine, his life should withstand that test. Let’s examine it together, prioritizing the most compelling evidences: his claim to apostleship, his reframe of Jesus’ teachings on the Law, and the personal traits that seem to clash with Christ’s humility.

The Foundation of Authority: Does Apostleship Fit the Pattern Jesus Set?

Imagine a young Pharisee, zealous for the traditions of his fathers, overseeing the stoning of a faithful deacon named Stephen (Acts 7:58; 8:1). This is Saul of Tarsus—later Paul—breathing threats against the early followers of Jesus. Then, on the road to Damascus, a blinding light and a voice from heaven shatter his world: “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” (Acts 9:4). From that moment, Paul declares himself an apostle, commissioned directly by the risen Christ for the Gentiles (Acts 9:15; Galatians 1:15-16). It’s a dramatic pivot, one that has inspired countless conversions. But pause here: What exactly qualifies someone as an apostle in Jesus’ blueprint?

The Gospels are clear. Before ascending, Jesus instructed the eleven remaining disciples to replace Judas with a man who had been “with us the whole time” from John’s baptism to the resurrection—a direct eyewitness to His ministry, death, and victory over the grave (Acts 1:21-22). This wasn’t arbitrary; apostles were to be foundational witnesses, their testimony the bedrock of the church. Jesus Himself promised the twelve thrones to judge the tribes of Israel (Matthew 19:28), and Revelation seals it: The New Jerusalem’s walls rest on twelve foundation stones, each inscribed with the name of one of the twelve apostles of the Lamb (Revelation 21:14). Notably absent? Paul. The list aligns with the originals—Peter, Andrew, James, John, and so on—culminating in Matthias, chosen by lot to restore the twelve (Acts 1:26).

Paul’s response? He insists his apostleship is “not from men nor through man, but through Jesus Christ” (Galatians 1:1), hinging on a private vision rather than public witness. No communal laying on of hands from the twelve, no shared meal like the Emmaus road encounter (Luke 24:30-31). Instead, he boasts of independence: “I did not immediately consult with anyone… nor did I go up to Jerusalem to those who were apostles before me” (Galatians 1:16-17). This solitude raises a flag. Jesus built His movement on unity, sending disciples in pairs (Luke 10:1) and praying for oneness (John 17:21). Paul, by contrast, navigates early church councils with tension—confronting Peter publicly over table fellowship (Galatians 2:11-14) and later facing abandonment from Asia’s churches (2 Timothy 1:15).

The church at Ephesus, founded by Paul himself, later receives John’s commendation for testing “those who call themselves apostles and are not, and found them to be false” (Revelation 2:2). Could this include echoes of Paul’s own claims? It’s a scenario seldom unpacked in sermons, where Paul’s vision is hailed as divine innovation. Yet Jesus warned of coming deceivers who would say, “I am the Christ,” performing signs to mislead even the elect (Matthew 24:4-5, 24). Paul’s “mystery” revelations—unshared by Jesus or the twelve—fit that mold uncomfortably. As we test the fruit, the question lingers: If apostleship demands eyewitness continuity, does a lone visionary measure up?

The Heart of the Matter: Grace or a Subtle Shift from the Law?

Few tensions cut deeper than Paul’s handling of the Torah—the very Law Jesus affirmed as enduring. Picture Jesus on the Galilean hillside, not abolishing the Scriptures but fulfilling them: “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. For truly, I say to you, until heaven and earth pass away, not an iota, not a dot, will pass from the Law until all is accomplished” (Matthew 5:17-18). He ties eternal life to keeping the commandments (Matthew 19:17) and rebukes those who nullify God’s word for human tradition (Matthew 15:3-6). This is no side note; it’s the pulse of Jesus’ kingdom ethic, where love for God and neighbor is the Law’s fulfillment (Matthew 22:37-40).

Enter Paul. In a sweeping pivot, he declares the Law a “curse” redeemed by Christ’s substitution (Galatians 3:13), a “ministry of death” eclipsed by the Spirit (2 Corinthians 3:7-9), and obsolete for righteousness: “For by works of the law no human being will be justified” (Galatians 2:16). Foods once unclean? Now all permissible (Romans 14:14; 1 Timothy 4:3-5). Sabbaths and festivals? Matters of indifference (Romans 14:5-6). Submission to earthly powers? A divine mandate, even under Rome’s boot (Romans 13:1-7; Titus 3:1). These aren’t minor adjustments; they’re a reframing that sidelines Jesus’ call to peacemaking over coercion (Matthew 5:9) and radical freedom for the oppressed, echoing Jubilee liberation (Luke 4:18-19).

Why does this matter? In my experience visiting churches across the country—from megachurches to house fellowships, from Catholic to Presbyterian, Evangelical to Methodist—sermons rarely unpack Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. Instead, Paul’s grace monologues dominate: Faith apart from works (Romans 3:28), an end to the Law through Christ (Romans 10:4). It’s a beautiful emphasis on mercy, to be sure—Jesus embodied it (Matthew 9:13)—but when it eclipses obedience, we risk what James warned against: a faith without deeds, dead on arrival (James 2:17, 26). Paul even positions himself as a “father” to believers, urging imitation (1 Corinthians 4:15-16; 11:1), while Jesus forbade such titles: “But you are not to be called rabbi, for you have one teacher, and you are all brothers… call no man your father on earth, for you have one Father, who is in heaven” (Matthew 23:8-10).

This shift isn’t preached as a tension but as seamless progression. Yet, consider the fruit: Denominations splinter over Pauline nuances, while Jesus’ unified commands—love enemies (Matthew 5:44), seek first the kingdom (Matthew 6:33)—fade. If Paul’s gospel aligns perfectly, why the discord? John, the beloved disciple, closes his Gospel with a plea to believe in Jesus’ signs and words (John 20:30-31), not a visionary’s addendums. The reader must decide: Is this divine unfolding, or a subtle redirection from the Lamb’s own path?

The Mirror of Character: Boasting in the Shadow of Humility

No examination feels complete without peering into the man behind the message. Jesus modeled servant-hearted humility: “The greatest among you shall be your servant. Whoever exalts himself will be humbled” (Matthew 23:11-12). He washed feet (John 13:5) and warned against the leaven of Pharisees—hypocrisy and pride (Matthew 16:6). Paul’s letters, however, brim with self-vindication. In a marathon defense, he catalogs sufferings to outdo rivals: “Are they servants of Christ? I am a better one… in labors more abundant, in beatings more severe” (2 Corinthians 11:23-25). He swears oaths to affirm his truthfulness—”before God, I do not lie” (Galatians 1:20)—and demands followers mimic him (1 Corinthians 4:16).

These aren’t petty gripes; they reveal a pattern. Paul’s conversion tales shift across Acts—companions hearing or seeing the light variably (Acts 9:7 vs. 22:9)—and his zeal, once bent on persecution (Philippians 3:6), morphs into a “Pharisee of Pharisees” pride (Philippians 3:5) that he never fully disavows. He publicly rebukes Peter (Galatians 2:14), sows division by marking “factious” for avoidance (Titus 3:10), and on slavery, gently nudges Philemon without upending the injustice (Philemon 1:10-16)—a far cry from Jesus’ liberation cry.

In today’s “grace-only” preaching, these traits are softened as passion. But Jesus called fruit the true test (Matthew 7:20). Paul’s boasts invert the Master’s way: Where Jesus said “deny yourself” (Matthew 16:24), Paul elevates his resume. It’s a storyline that, if tested, might echo his own words on false apostles—deceitful workers masquerading as light (2 Corinthians 11:13-14). Again, the Scriptures invite discernment.

Returning to the Source: A Call to the Master’s Voice

As I close these pages—not with answers, but with an open hand—I’m reminded of my own journey. From a farm in Minnesota to global conversations on this site, ScottPrentice.com, one truth anchors me: Jesus is the Word made flesh (John 1:14), and His commands are life (John 6:63). If Paul’s path aligns, it will harmonize; if not, we honor Christ by prioritizing Him.

I encourage you: Read the Gospels afresh. Let Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John reshape your lens. For deeper dives into these tensions, visit my companion page at www.ProblemsWithPaul.com, where I’ve compiled notes that sparked this reflection. There, you’ll find the raw verses side by side, free for your study.

What conclusions will you draw? The choice is yours, as it was mine. But in a world of borrowed voices, may we echo the One who said, “My sheep hear my voice… and they follow me” (John 10:27). Let’s follow Him home.

Scott Prentice is the founder of ScottPrentice.com, a platform exploring faith, economics, and life’s deeper questions through Scripture and story. He lives in Venice, Florida, and returns often to the Black Hills—still calling it home—where the stars whisper of ancient truths.