Homilies on Acts, Homily 13

“Then the high priest rose up, and those who were with him (that is, the sect of the Sadducees), and they were filled with indignation, and laid their hands on the Apostles, and put them in the public prison.” “Having risen up,” that is, being roused and stirred up by what was happening, “the high priest and those who were with him (that is, the sect of the Sadducees) were filled with indignation, and laid their hands on the Apostles”: now they attack them more vigorously: “and put them in the public prison”; but they did not bring them to trial right away, because they expected them to soften again. “But the Angel of the Lord opened the prison doors, brought them out, and said, Go, stand and speak in the temple to the people all the words of this life.” “And when they heard that, they entered the temple early in the morning and taught.” (v. 19–21.) This was done both to encourage the disciples and to benefit and instruct the others. And notice how what happens here is exactly like what Christ Himself did. In His miracles, though He does not let people see them while they are being performed, He gives them the means to learn about what was done. So in His Resurrection He did not let them see how He rose; with the water made wine, the guests do not see it happen, since they have been drinking heavily, and He leaves it to others to discern. In just the same way here, they do not see the Apostles being brought out, but they do see the proofs from which they could figure out what had been done. And it was at night that the Angel brought them out. Why? Because in this way they were more believed than they would have been the other way: so, people would not even have had occasion to ask the question: they would not have believed in some other way. That is how it was in the old days with Nebuchadnezzar: he saw them praising God in the furnace, and then he was truly amazed. (Dan. iii. 24.) But these priests, whose first question should have been, How did you get out? instead ask, as if nothing had happened, “Did we not strictly order you not to speak?” (v. 28.) And notice that they learn all the circumstances from other people’s report: they see the prison still securely shut and the guards standing in front of the doors. This was double security, just as at the tomb, where there was both the seal and the men to keep watch. See how they fought against God! Tell me, was what happened to them the work of man? Who led them out when the doors were shut? How did they get out, with the guards standing in front of the door? They really must be insane or drunk to talk like that. Here are men whom neither prison, nor chains, nor locked doors had been able to hold, and yet they expect to overpower them: that is how childish and foolish they are! Their own officers come and admit what has happened, as if for the very purpose of leaving them without any show of a reason. Do you notice how there is miracle upon miracle, of different kinds, some performed by the Apostles, others performed on them, and these more remarkable than the others? “And when they heard that, they entered the temple early in the morning and taught. But the high priest came, and those who were with him, and called together the council and the whole senate of the children of Israel, and sent to the prison to have them brought. But when the officers came and did not find them in the prison, they returned and reported, saying, We found the prison securely shut, and the guards standing outside in front of the doors; but when we opened it, we found no one inside. Now when the high priest and the captain of the temple and the chief priests heard these things, they were perplexed about them, wondering what this would come to.” (v. 21–25.) It was well arranged that the information was not brought to them all at once. First they are completely at a loss about what to think, so that, after they have considered it carefully and seen that a Divine Power is at work, they may then learn the whole situation. “Then someone came and told them, saying, Look, the men you put in prison are standing in the temple and teaching the people. Then the captain went with the other officers and brought them without violence, for they were afraid of the people, fearing they would be stoned.” (v. 25, 26.) What folly these men show! “They were afraid,” he says, “of the people.” Why, how had the people helped the Apostles? When they should have feared the God Who kept delivering them out of their power like winged creatures, instead “they were afraid of the people!” “And the high priest,” shameless, reckless, senseless, “asked them, saying, Did we not strictly order you not to teach in this name? And look, you have filled Jerusalem with your teaching and intend to bring this man’s blood upon us.” (v. 27, 28.) What, then (do the Apostles say)? Again they address them gently; and yet they could have said, “Who are you, to countermand God?” But what do they say? Once more they answer by way of exhortation and advice, and with great gentleness. “Then Peter and the other Apostles answered and said, We ought to obey God rather than men.” (v. 29.) What greatness of soul! He also shows them that they are fighting against God. For, he says, the One you killed, God has raised up. “The God of our fathers raised up Jesus, Whom you killed and hanged on a tree. Him God has exalted with His right hand to be a Prince and a Savior, to give repentance to Israel and forgiveness of sins.” (v. 30, 31.) And again they refer everything to the Father, so that He would not seem to be alien to the Father. “And has exalted,” He says, “with His right hand.” He affirms not only the Resurrection but also the Exaltation. “To give repentance to Israel.” Notice here, as before, the gain (to them): notice the completeness of the doctrine conveyed in the form of a defense. “And we are witnesses of these things.” (v. 32.) What great boldness of speech! And here is the ground of their credibility: “And so is the Holy Spirit, Whom God has given to those who obey Him.” Do you notice that they do not appeal only to the Spirit’s testimony? And they did not say, “Whom He has given” to us, but “to those who obey Him,” in this way showing their own unassuming spirit, hinting at the greatness of the gift, and showing their hearers that they too could receive the Spirit. See how these people were taught by both deeds and words, and still they paid no attention, so that their condemnation would be just. For this is why God allowed the Apostles to be brought to trial: so that their opponents might be instructed, everyone might learn, and the Apostles might be strengthened to speak boldly. “When they heard that, they were cut to the heart.” (v. 33.) The others (on an earlier occasion) “when they heard these things, were pierced”; here they were cut (as with a saw) (διεπρίοντο) “and wanted to kill them.” (ch. ii. 37.) But now we need to go back over what we have read. “But at night the angel of the Lord opened the prison doors and brought them out, and said, Go, stand and speak in the temple to the people all the words of this life. Brought them out.” (Recapitulation, v. 19, 20.) He did not lead them out for their own benefit, but, “Stand,” he says, “and speak in the temple to the people.” But if the guards had let them out, as those men thought, they would have run away, that is, supposing they had been persuaded to come out; and if those had let them out, they would not have stood in the temple, but would have slipped away. No one is so lacking in sense that he does not see this at once. “Did we not strictly order you?” (v. 28.) Well, if they had promised to obey you, you would be right to call them to account; but if, at the very time, they told you they would not obey, what account can you call them to, and what defense do they have to make? “And look, you have filled Jerusalem with your teaching, and intend to bring this man’s blood upon us.” Notice how inconsistent the accusations are, and how extremely foolish. They want to make it look now as if the dispositions of the Jews are bloodthirsty, as if they were doing these things not for the sake of the truth but out of a desire for revenge. And this is another reason the Apostles do not answer them defiantly (θρασέως): they were teachers. And yet where is the man who, with a whole city behind him and gifted with such great grace, would not have spoken out and said something grand? But these men did not: they were not angry; no, they pitied these men, wept over them, and looked for a way to free them from their error and their anger. And they no longer say to them, “You judge” (ch. iv. 19); they simply state, “The One God raised up is the One we preach: it is by the will of God that these things are done.” They did not say, Didn’t we tell you even then that “we cannot help speaking the things we have seen and heard”? (ib. 20), for they are not contending for glory; instead they repeat the same message again: the Cross, the Resurrection. And they do not say why He was crucified, that it was for our sake; they do hint at it, but not openly yet, since they want to frighten them for a while. And yet what kind of rhetoric is there here? None at all; everywhere it is still the Passion, the Resurrection, the Ascension, and the purpose of it all: “The God of our fathers raised up Jesus,” etc. (v. 30, 31.) And yet how implausible these claims are! Very implausible, no doubt; but even so, neither rulers nor people had a word to say against them: the one group had their mouths shut, and the other received the teaching. “And we,” he says, “are witnesses of these things.” (v. 32.) Of what things? That He has promised forgiveness and repentance: for the Resurrection was by now acknowledged. But as for His giving forgiveness, we are witnesses of that, and “so is the Holy Spirit,” Who would not have come down unless sins had first been forgiven; so this is indisputable proof. “When they heard that, they were cut” (to the heart), “and planned to kill them.” (v. 33.) You hear of the forgiveness of sins, you wretched man, and that God does not demand punishment, and you want to kill them? What wickedness this was! They should either have proved them liars, or, if they could not do that, they should have believed; and if they did not choose to believe, they still should not have killed them. For what was there that deserved death? They were so intoxicated that they could not even see what had happened. Notice how the Apostles, everywhere, after mentioning the crime, go on to mention forgiveness, showing that although what had been done deserved death, what was being given was offered to them as though they were benefactors! How else could anyone have persuaded them? “Then the high priest stood up,” etc. Because they were held in high esteem, these men (the Apostles) were about to take their place close to the Prophets. The Sadducees were the ones most irritated over the subject of the Resurrection. But perhaps someone will say: Why, what man gifted as the Apostles were would not have been great? But consider, please, how, before they were gifted with grace, “they were continuing steadfastly with one accord in prayer” (ch. i. 14), depending on help from above. And do you, my beloved, hope for the kingdom of heaven while enduring nothing? Have you received the Spirit, and yet you do not suffer such things or face dangers? But they, before they had a chance to catch their breath from their earlier dangers, were again led into others. And this too, having no arrogance and no conceit, how great a good it is! Speaking gently, what a gain it is! For not everything they did was the direct work of grace; there are also many signs of their own zeal. That the gifts of grace shine out in them came from their own diligence. Look, for instance, at how careful Peter is from the very beginning, how sober and alert; how those who believed threw away their riches, had no private property, persevered in prayer, showed that they were of one mind, and spent their time fasting. Was it grace (alone), I ask, that did all this? That is why He brings the evidence home to them through their own officers, just as in Christ’s case it was their own officers who said, “No man ever spoke the way this Man speaks.” (John vii. 46.) These (proofs) are more readily believed than the Resurrection. Notice also the moderation shown by (the rulers) themselves, and how they back down. “The high priest asked them, saying,” etc. (v. 27): here he reasons with them in a supposedly moderate tone, because he was frightened; in fact he wanted to stop them rather than kill them, since he cannot do that. And to stir them all up and show them the extreme danger they are in, he says (to the Apostles), “And you intend to bring this man’s blood upon us.” Do you still take Him to be a mere man? He wants to make it look as if the order was necessary for their own safety. But notice what (Peter) says: “Him God has exalted with His right hand to be a Prince and a Savior, to give repentance to Israel and forgiveness of sins.” (v. 31.) Here he avoids mentioning the Gentiles, so as not to give them grounds to use against him. “And they wanted,” it says, “to kill them.” (v. 33.) See again: these men in perplexity, these men in pain, while the Apostles are calm, cheerful, and delighted. It does not just say, They were grieved, but “They were cut” (to the heart). This truly bears out the proverb, “Do evil, suffer evil,” as we can see in this case. Here were these men in chains, standing trial, and the men sitting in judgment on them were in distress and helpless perplexity. For just as someone who strikes a blow on adamant feels the shock of the blow himself, so it was with these men. But they saw that not only was the Apostles’ boldness of speech not stopped, but their preaching grew even more, that they spoke without a thought of fear, and that they gave them no grounds to use against them. Let us imitate these men, my beloved: let us be undaunted in all our dangers. Nothing is terrifying to the one who fears God; everything terrifying is for others. For when a man has been freed from his passions and regards everything in this present life as a shadow, tell me, from whom will he suffer anything terrible? Whom will he have to fear? Whom will he need to plead with? Let us run to this Rock that cannot be shaken. If someone were to build a city for us, put a wall around it, move us to an uninhabited land where no one could disturb us, supply us there with plenty of everything, and not let anyone give us any trouble at all, he would not place us in such perfect safety as Christ has now done. Let it be a city made of bronze, if you like, surrounded on every side by a high, impregnable wall; let there be no enemy near it; let it have plenty of rich land; add an abundance of everything else; let the citizens be mild and gentle too, with no wrongdoer there, no robber, no thief, no informer, no law court, but only agreements (συναλλάγματα); and let us live in this city: even so it would not be possible to live in security. Why? Because there would inevitably be disagreements with servants, with wives, with children, to lay the groundwork for a great deal of discomfort. But with the Apostles there was nothing of the kind, for there was nothing at all to pain them or cause them any discomfort. In fact, what is more amazing to say, the very things that are thought to cause discomfort became a source of complete joy and gladness. For tell me, what was there for them to be annoyed at? What was there to resent? Shall we bring in a specific case to compare with them? Well, let there be a man of consular rank; let him have great wealth, live in the imperial city, have no troublesome business with anyone, but only live in luxury with nothing else to do, sitting at the very summit of wealth, honor, and power; and let us set against him a Peter, in chains if you like, and in countless troubles: we will find that Peter is the one who lives most delightfully. For when there is such an excess of joy that a man is delighted while in chains, think how great that joy must be! Just as people in high office do not feel whatever misfortunes happen to them, but go on enjoying themselves, so these men rejoiced all the more because of these very misfortunes. For it is impossible, impossible to put into words how much pleasure falls to those who suffer for Christ’s sake: they rejoice in their sufferings more than in their good things. Whoever loves Christ knows what I mean. But what about safety? Who, I ask, however rich he might be, could have escaped so many dangers, traveling among so many different nations for the sole purpose of bringing about a reformation in their way of life? For it was just as if they carried everything before them by royal decree, or rather far more easily, since no decree could ever have been as effective as their words were. A royal edict compels by force, but these men drew people willingly and freely, yes, and with hearts overflowing with gratitude. What royal edict, I ask, would ever have persuaded people to part with all their property and their lives, to despise home, country, and family, and even their own self-preservation? Yet the voices of fishermen and tentmakers accomplished this. So they were both happy and more powerful and strong than anyone else. “Yes,” you say, “of course they were, since they worked miracles.” (supra, p. 83, note 4.) But I ask, what miracles did those who believed work, the three thousand and the five thousand? And yet we read that these spent their time in gladness. And no wonder: for what lies at the root of all discomfort, the possession of riches, had been done away with. For that, that, I say, has always been the cause of wars and fighting, grief and discomfort, and every evil: that is what makes life full of toil and trouble. In fact, you would find that many more rich people than poor have reason to be sad. If anyone thinks this is not true, his idea comes not from the nature of things but from his own imagination. And if the rich do enjoy some sort of pleasure, that is no surprise: even people who are covered all over with the itch get a good deal of pleasure. That the rich are exactly like them, with their minds affected in the same way, is clear from this: their cares torment them, yet they choose to be absorbed in them for the sake of momentary pleasure, while those who are free from these afflictions are healthy and without discomfort. Which is more pleasant, I ask, and which of the two is safer: to have to think only about a single loaf of bread and one set of clothes, or about a huge household, slaves and free, having to care not about himself (only)? For as this man has his fears for himself, so you have your fears for those who depend on you. Why, then, I ask, does poverty seem like something to be shunned? For the same reason that other good things are, in the judgment of many, things to be dreaded. “Yes,” you say, “but it is not that those good things are to be dreaded; it is that they are hard to attain.” Well, poverty too is not something to be dreaded, but something hard to attain; so if a person could bear it, there would be no reason to dread it. Otherwise, why didn’t the Apostles dread it? Why do many even choose it, and, far from dreading it, actually run toward it? For what is truly to be dreaded cannot be anyone’s choice except a madman’s. But if it is people with philosophic and elevated minds who take up this life, as a safe and healthy refuge, it is no wonder that it looks different to everyone else. For honestly, the rich man seems to me just like an unwalled city on a plain, inviting attackers from every side; but poverty is a secure fortress, as strong as bronze can make it, with a difficult way up. “And yet,” you say, “the fact is just the opposite: these are the people who are often dragged into court; these are the ones who are overpowered and mistreated.” No: not the poor as poor, but those who, being poor, want to be rich. But I am not talking about them; I am talking about those who make it their goal to live in poverty. For tell me, how is it that nobody ever drags the brothers who live in the hills into court? Yet if being poor makes you a target for oppression, they should be dragged there most of all, since they are poorer than anyone. How is it that nobody drags the ordinary beggars into court? Because they have reached the extreme of poverty. How is it that no one does violence to them, no one brings malicious charges against them? Because they live in a stronghold too safe for that. How many people think it a hard condition to struggle against, poverty, I mean, and begging! What, then, I ask, is begging a good thing? “It is good if there is comfort,” you say, “if there is someone to give: as everyone knows, it is a life free from trouble and setbacks.” But I do not mean to commend this; God forbid! What I advise is not aiming at riches. For tell me, whom would you rather call blessed: those who find themselves at home with virtue, (ἐπιτηδείους πρὸς ἀρετήν) or those who stand far from it? Those who are near, of course. Then tell me, which of the two is more likely to learn anything profitable and to shine in true wisdom, the first or the second? The first, as anyone can see. If you doubt it, convince yourself this way. Bring in from the marketplace one of the poor wretches there; let him be a cripple, lame, maimed. Then bring in someone else, handsome, strong in body, full of life and vigor in every limb, overflowing with riches; let him be of distinguished birth and have great power. Now let us bring both of them into the school of philosophy: which of them, I ask, is more likely to accept what is taught? The first precept, right at the start, is “Be lowly and moderate” (for this is Christ’s command): which will be better able to fulfill it, this one or the other? “Blessed are those who mourn” (Matt. v. 4): which will accept this saying more readily? “Blessed are the lowly”: which will listen to this more? “Blessed are the pure in heart. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake” (ib. 8, 6, 10). Which will accept these sayings easily? And, if you like, let us apply all of these rules to them and see how they fit. Isn’t the one inflamed and swollen all over, while the other is always humble-minded and subdued in his whole bearing? It is perfectly clear. Yes, and there is a saying to that effect among outsiders: “(I was) a slave, Epictetus by name, crippled in body, as poor as Irus, and a friend of the Immortals.” For how, I would ask, can the soul of the rich man not be teeming with evils: folly, vanity, countless lusts, anger and passion, greed, injustice, and everything else? So even for philosophy, the first is better suited (ἐπιτηδεία) than the second. By all means, try to determine which is more pleasant, since I see this is the point argued everywhere: whether so-and-so has the more enjoyable way of life. Yet even on this point we need not be in doubt, for to be near to health is also to have much enjoyment. But which of the two, I ask, is better suited (ἐπιτήδειος) to the matter now at hand, the one we are determined to carry through, our law, I mean: the poor man or the rich? Which of them is likely to swear? The man who has children to be angry with, the man who has contracts with countless parties, or the man whose only concern is to ask for a loaf of bread or a garment? This man does not even need oaths, if he so chooses, but always lives free from the cares of business. More than that, you often see that the one who has trained himself not to swear at all will also despise riches; and you will see in his whole conduct that his ways all branch out from this one good habit, leading to meekness, contempt of riches, piety, a subdued soul, and a contrite heart. So let us not be lazy, my beloved, but let us again show great earnestness: those who have succeeded, so that they may keep the success they have gained, and not be easily caught by the receding wave, nor carried back again by the ebbing tide [they too who are yet behindhand, that they may be raised up again, and strive to make up that which is wanting. And meanwhile let those who have succeeded, help those who have not been able to do the same]: and by reaching out their hands, as they would to people struggling in deep water, let them bring them into the harbor of no-swearing (ἀνωμοσίας). For not swearing at all truly is a harbor of safety: whatever storms break over us, there we are in no danger of sinking. Whether it is anger, or insult, or passion, or anything else, the soul stays securely anchored; yes, even if someone has let slip some chance word that should not have been spoken and would have been better left unsaid, he has still bound himself under no necessity, no law. (Supra, Hom. ix. §5. ad. Pop. Ant. viii. §3.) See what Herod did for the sake of his oath: he cut off the head of the Forerunner. “But because of his oaths,” it says, “and because of those who were dining with him” (Mark vi. 26), he cut off the Prophet’s head. Think what the tribes had to suffer because of their oath in the matter of the tribe of Benjamin (Judges xxi. 5–10), and what Saul had to suffer because of his oath (1 Sam. xiv. 24, etc.). Saul, in fact, perjured himself, but Herod did something even worse than perjury: he committed murder. And Joshua, you know how things went for him because of his oath in the matter of the Gibeonites. (Joshua, ch. ix.) For this swearing really is a snare of Satan. Let us burst the cords; let us bring ourselves into a condition in which it will be easy (not to swear); let us break free from every entanglement, and from this snare of Satan. Let us fear the Lord’s command; let us establish ourselves in the best of habits, so that, making progress and having achieved this and the rest of the commandments, we may obtain the good things promised to those who love Him, through the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with Whom, to the Father and the Holy Spirit together, be glory, power, and honor, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.