The Strike That Awakens the Soul

Fourteen times the Holy Spirit caused this word to be inscribed upon the scrolls of the New Covenant, and each occurrence carries the weight of heaven breaking into earth. The verb ekplḗssō — to strike out, to drive beyond one's senses — appears first in the Gospel of Matthew, where the crowds are struck with astonishment at the teaching of Yeshua. This is no mere surprise, no gentle wonder. The word speaks of a blow, a percussion upon the inner man, as if the hammer of divine truth has struck the anvil of the human heart. The people were ekplēssomenoi, driven out of their ordinary state of mind, because His teaching carried authority, not like their scribes. Here is the pattern: when the Living Word speaks, the soul is struck, and nothing remains as it was.

The Anatomy of Astonishment: From the Root to the Branch

Consider the derivation of this word, for the Greek tongue carries meaning in its very bones. The preposition ek (out of) joins with the verb plḗssō (to strike, to smite). Together they paint a picture of being struck so forcefully that one is driven out of their normal habitation of thought. In classical Greek, this word described the shock of battle or the paralysis of sudden fear. But the Holy Spirit, in the Koine of the apostles, transformed this violence into a holy violence — the striking of the soul that leads not to destruction but to awakening. The Septuagint translators, those seventy elders of blessed memory, used this same word to translate the Hebrew shamem, meaning to be desolated or appalled, as when the prophet Ezekiel declared: "Son of man, eat your bread with quaking, and drink your water with trembling and with ekplēxis" (Ezekiel 12:18). What was once the shudder of judgment becomes, in the gospel, the trembling of awe before the presence of the Messiah.

The Aorist Moment: When Yeshua Struck the Temple Courts

The grammatical form of this verb in its most significant occurrences is the aorist passive — a moment captured, a singular event where the action is received rather than performed. When Yeshua taught in the synagogue of Capernaum, the text records that they were ekplēssonto (Mark 1:22), an imperfect passive suggesting a continuous state of being struck. But consider the moment that defines this word's messianic weight: when Yeshua drove out the money changers from the Temple, the people were astonished at His doctrine (Matthew 22:33). The passive voice here reveals a profound truth — the hearers did not produce this astonishment; it was produced in them by the authority of the One who spoke. The apostolic tradition teaches that this passive astonishment is the proper posture of the soul before divine revelation. You do not work yourself into wonder; wonder works itself into you when the truth of Messiah strikes your inner man.

The Apostle Who Knew the Strike

Among the New Testament writers, the Evangelist Luke employs this word with particular frequency, and his usage reveals a shepherd's heart for the Gentile nations. In the Book of Acts, the proconsul Sergius Paulus is ekplēssomenos at the teaching of the Lord (Acts 13:12), struck by the power of the gospel that overcame the sorcerer Elymas. Here the word bridges the Hebrew concept of yirah — the fear of the Lord that is the beginning of wisdom — with the Greek philosophical longing for truth. The early church father Clement of Rome wrote that this holy astonishment is the beginning of faith, for when the soul is struck by divine truth, it becomes pliable in the hands of the Potter. Luke shows us that this striking is not reserved for the religious elite; a Roman proconsul, a pagan governor, receives the same blow of astonishment that the crowds in Galilee received. The word knows no boundary between Jew and Greek.

The Septuagint Bridge: From Desolation to Wonder

When the Greek translators rendered the Hebrew Scriptures into the language of Alexandria, they chose ekplḗssō to carry the weight of the Hebrew shamem — a word meaning to be devastated, to be laid waste, to be horrified. In the prophet Jeremiah, the Lord declares: "I will make this city a desolation (shamemah), and everyone who passes by will be ekplēssontai" (Jeremiah 19:8). Strikingly, the same word that describes the horror of judgment upon a rebellious city becomes, in the New Covenant, the wonder of grace upon a receptive heart. The ancient sages observed that the Hebrew shamem shares its root with shemamah, meaning astonishment, and they taught that when the Shekinah glory departed from the first Temple, the people were left in desolation. But when the Shekinah returned in the person of Yeshua, that same astonishment became the birth pang of faith. The word that once spoke of judgment now speaks of the glorious interruption of grace.

When the Messiah Himself Was the Cause of Astonishment

The New Testament writers apply this verb to Yeshua in a manner that reveals His unique authority. In Matthew 7:28, when Yeshua finished the Sermon on the Mount, the crowds were ekplēssonto because He taught as one having authority, not as their scribes. The fathers of the faith observed that the scribes taught by quoting other authorities — Rabbi so-and-so said, the tradition of the elders declares — but Yeshua spoke directly: "You have heard it said... but I say to you." This directness struck the soul with the force of the first creation, when God spoke and light was. The apostolic testimony declares that this astonishment was not merely intellectual admiration but the recognition that the Word had become flesh. When the people of Nazareth heard Him in the synagogue, they were ekplēssonto at His gracious words (Luke 4:22), yet within the same chapter they sought to throw Him from a cliff. Astonishment can lead either to faith or to fury, for the same blow that softens one heart hardens another.

The Twofold Strike: How Peter and Paul Received the Blow

The pattern of this word reveals a profound mystery: before the apostles could be instruments of striking others with the gospel, they themselves had to be struck. Peter, after the miraculous catch of fish, fell at Yeshua's knees and said, "Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, Lord" (Luke 5:8). Though the word ekplḗssō does not appear in this passage, the experience is identical — Peter was driven out of himself by the presence of divine holiness. Saul of Tarsus, on the road to Damascus, was struck blind by the light of the risen Christ (Acts 9:3-9), and the Greek fathers understood this blinding as a form of ekplēxis — a striking that removed his natural sight so that spiritual sight might be born. The rabbis of old taught that when Moses saw the burning bush, he turned aside to see this great sight, and that turning was the beginning of his deliverance of Israel. So too, when the Lord strikes you with astonishment, the proper response is to turn aside, to behold, and to receive the commission that follows the wonder.

Your Call to Be Struck

Beloved reader, the question that hovers over this word is not whether you will be struck, but whether you will remain standing when the blow comes. The Scripture testifies that the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and spirit (Hebrews 4:12). That piercing is an ekplēxis, a striking that separates what is merely natural from what is truly spiritual. You cannot prepare yourself for this strike; you can only open yourself to it. When you open the pages of Scripture, do not read as a scholar dissecting a text, but as a disciple standing before the burning bush. Let the words of Yeshua strike you. Let His authority drive you out of your comfortable certainties into the wilderness of wonder. For the same word that struck the crowds in Galilee, that amazed the proconsul in Cyprus, that astonished the sages in the Temple — that same word waits for you. Receive the blow. Let it shatter your heart of stone, that the heart of flesh may beat with the rhythm of heaven. Amen.