“This Moses whom they rejected, saying, Who made you a ruler and a judge over us?—this same man God sent as a ruler and a deliverer by the hand of the Angel who appeared to him in the bush.” This fits the subject very well. “This Moses,” he says. “This”—the man who had been in danger of losing his life; the man they had treated as worthless; “this”—the man they had rejected: “this” very man God raised up and sent to them. “Whom they rejected, saying, Who made you a ruler?”—just as they themselves (the hearers) said, “We have no king but Caesar.” (John xix. 15.) Here he also shows that Christ did what was done then. “This same man God sent by the hand of the Angel,” who said to him, “I am the God of Abraham.” “This” same Moses, he says—and notice how he draws attention to his renown—“this” same Moses, he says, “brought them out, after performing wonders and signs in the land of Egypt, and in the Red Sea, and in the wilderness for forty years. This is the Moses who said to the children of Israel, The Lord your God will raise up for you a prophet from among your brothers, like me” (v. 36, 37): treated as worthless like me. Herod wanted to kill Him too, and He found safety in Egypt, just as Moses had; even when He was a baby, they sought to destroy Him. “This is the man who was in the Church in the wilderness with the Angel who spoke to him on Mount Sinai, and with our fathers: who received the living oracles to give to us.” (v. 38.) Again, no mention of a temple, none of sacrifice. “With the Angel,” it says, “he received the living oracles to give to the fathers.” This shows that he not only worked miracles but also gave a law, as Christ did. Just as Christ first works miracles and then gives laws, so did Moses. But they did not listen to him; they remained disobedient even after the miracles: “Whom,” he says, “our fathers would not obey” (v. 39), after the wonders performed during those forty years. And not only that, but just the opposite: “They pushed him away, and in their hearts turned back to Egypt, saying to Aaron, Make us gods to go before us; for as for this Moses, who brought us out of the land of Egypt, we do not know what has become of him. And they made a calf in those days, and offered sacrifice to the idol, and rejoiced in the works of their own hands. Then God turned and gave them up to worship the host of heaven; as it is written in the book of the Prophets, House of Israel, did you offer Me slaughtered animals and sacrifices for forty years in the wilderness? Yes, you took up the tabernacle of Moloch, and the star of your god Remphan, figures you made to worship them: and I will carry you away beyond Babylon.” (v. 40–43.) The expression “gave them up” means He allowed it. “Our fathers had the tabernacle of witness in the wilderness, as He who spoke to Moses had directed him to make it according to the pattern he had seen.” (v. 44.) Even when there was a Tabernacle, there were still no sacrifices. “Did you offer Me slaughtered animals and sacrifices?” (Amos v. 25.) There was “the tabernacle of witness,” and yet it did them no good; they were destroyed. Neither before nor afterward did the miracles do them any good. “Which our fathers who came afterward also brought in.” Do you see how the holy place is wherever God is? This is also why he says “in the wilderness”: to compare one place with another. Then comes the benefit (conferred upon them): And our fathers who came afterward brought it in with Joshua when they took possession of the land of the Gentiles, whom God drove out before our fathers, until the days of David; who found favor before God, and wanted to find a tabernacle for the God of Jacob. (v. 45, 46.) David “wanted to find favor,” and he did not build it—he, the wonderful, the great—but Solomon, the rejected one, did. “But Solomon,” it says, “built Him a house. Yet the Most High does not dwell in (places) made by human hands.” (v. 47–50.) What was said before had already shown this, but a prophet’s words also show it: “What house will you build for Me? says the Lord God. As the prophet says, Heaven is My throne, and earth is My footstool: what house will you build for Me? says the Lord: or where is My resting place? Has My hand not made all these things?” (Is. lxvi. 1, 2.) Do not be surprised, he says, if those on whom Christ bestows His benefits reject His kingdom, since it was just the same with Moses. (Recapitulation). “He brought them out,” and rescued them not just in general, but also while they were in the wilderness. “Wonders and signs,” etc. (v. 35–50.) Do you notice that those ancient miracles concern them too (Stephen’s hearers)? “This is that Moses” (v. 37): the man who spoke with God; the man who had been saved from such strange and wonderful situations; the man who did such great works and had such great power. [“Which said unto the children of Israel, A prophet,” etc.] He shows that the prophecy must certainly be fulfilled, and that Moses is not opposed to Him. “This is the man who was in the Church in the wilderness, and who said to the children of Israel.” (v. 38.) Do you notice that the root comes from there (Rom. xi. 16), and that “salvation is from the Jews?” (John iv. 22.) “With the Angel,” it says, “who spoke to him.” See, again he declares that it was He (Christ) who gave the Law, since Moses was with “Him” in the Church in the wilderness. And here he reminds them of a great marvel, of what happened on the Mount: “Who received living oracles to give to us.” Moses is wonderful on every occasion, and (so) also when laws needed to be given. What does the expression “Living oracles” (λόγια) mean? Those whose outcome was shown through words (διὰ λόγων): in other words, he means the prophecies. Then comes the charge, first against the patriarchs [after], the “signs and wonders,” after the receipt of the “living oracles: Whom,” he says, “our fathers would not obey.” (v. 39.) But concerning those, Ezekiel says that they are not “living,” as when he says, “And I gave you statutes that are not good.” (Ezek. xx. 25.) It is in reference to those that he says, “Living. But they pushed him away, and in their hearts turned back to Egypt”—the place where they groaned, where they cried out, from which they called upon God. “And they said to Aaron, Make us gods to go before us.” (v. 40.) What foolishness! “Make,” they say, “so that they may go before us.” Where? “Into Egypt.” See how hard it was to tear them away from Egypt’s customs! What are you saying? You will not wait for the man who brought you out, but run away from the benefit and deny the Benefactor? And notice how insulting they are: “For as for this Moses,” they say, “who brought us out of the land of Egypt”—nowhere do they name God; instead, they attributed everything to Moses. Where they should give thanks (to God), they bring Moses forward; where they should do what the Law commanded them, they no longer pay any attention to Moses. “We do not know what has become of him.” And yet he told them he was going up to receive the Law, and they did not have the patience to wait forty days. “Make us gods”—they did not say “a God.”—And yet it is astonishing that they do not even know.—“And they made a calf in those days, and offered sacrifices to the idol, and rejoiced in the works of their own hands” (v. 41): things for which they should have hidden their faces. Is it any wonder that you do not know Christ, when you did not know Moses, or God Who revealed Himself through such wonders? But they did not merely fail to know Him: they insulted Him in another way too, by making idols. “Then God turned and gave them up to worship the host of heaven.” (v. 42.) This is where these same “customs” began; this is where the sacrifices began: they themselves were the first to make sacrifices to their idols! That is why this is singled out: “They made a calf in Horeb, and offered sacrifices to the idol.” Before this, sacrifice is never even named, only living ordinances and “living oracles. And rejoiced”—that is the reason for the feasts. (Exod. xxxii. 5, 6.) “As it is written in the Book of the Prophets”—and notice, he does not quote the text without a purpose; he uses it to show that sacrifices are unnecessary, saying, “Did you offer slaughtered animals and sacrifice to Me?”—He emphasizes these words (to Me?). “You cannot say that you went from sacrificing to Me to sacrificing to them”—“for forty years,” and this too “in the wilderness,” where He had shown Himself so unmistakably to be their Protector. “Yes, you took up the tabernacle of Moloch, and the star of your god Remphan: images you made to worship them.” The reason for sacrifices! “And I will carry you away beyond Babylon.” (v. 43.) Even the captivity is an accusation against their wickedness! “But there was a Tabernacle,” you say, “(the Tabernacle) ‘of Witness.’” (v. 44.) (Yes,) this was its purpose: that they should have God as Witness; that was all. “According to the pattern,” it says, “shown to you on the mount”: so the Original was on the mount. Moreover, this Tabernacle “in the wilderness” was carried around, rather than fixed in one place. And he calls it the “Tabernacle of witness”: i.e. (for witness) to the miracles, to the statutes. This is why both it and those (the fathers) had no Temple. “As He who spoke to Moses had directed him to make it according to the pattern he had seen.” Again, it was none other than He (Christ) who gave the pattern itself. “Until the days of David” (v. 45): and there was no temple! And yet the Gentiles had also been driven out; that is why he mentions this: “Whom God drove out,” he says, “before our fathers. Whom He drove out,” he says—and even then, no Temple! So many wonders, and no mention of a Temple! So although there is a Tabernacle at first, there is no Temple anywhere. “Until the days of David,” he says: even David, and no Temple! “And he sought to find favor before God” (v. 46), and did not build it: that is how little the Temple mattered! “But Solomon built Him a house.” (v. 47.) They thought Solomon was great, but it is clear that he was not better than his father, or even equal to him. “Yet the Most High does not dwell in temples made by human hands; as the prophet says, Heaven is My throne, and earth is My footstool.” (v. 48, 49.) Indeed, not even these are worthy of God, because they too were made: they are created things, the works of His hand. See how he leads them on little by little, (showing) that not even these deserve mention. And again the prophecy says plainly, “What house will you build Me?” etc. (v. 50.) Why does he speak so sharply (καταφορικὥς) at this point? He spoke with great boldness as he was about to die; in fact, I think he knew that this was so. “You stiff-necked people,” he says, “uncircumcised in heart and ears.” This too comes from the prophets: none of it is his own invention. “You always resist the Holy Spirit: as your fathers did, so do you.” (v. 51.) When He did not want sacrifices, you sacrificed; when He wanted them, then you did not sacrifice. When He would not give you commandments, you brought them upon yourselves; when you received them, you neglected them. Again, when the Temple stood, you worshiped idols; when He wants to be worshiped without a Temple, you do the opposite. Notice, he does not say, “You resist God,” but “the Spirit”: he was that far from recognizing any difference between Them. And more than that: “As your fathers did,” he says, “so do you.” Christ also (reproached them) this way, since they were always boasting so much about their fathers. “Which of the prophets did your fathers not persecute? And they killed those who foretold the coming of the Just One”—he still says “the Just One,” hoping to restrain them—“Whom you have now betrayed and murdered”—he brings two charges against them—“you who received the Law through the arrangement of Angels, and have not kept it.” (v. 52, 53.) What does “Through the arrangement of Angels” mean? Some say (The Law), arranged by Angels; or placed in his hand by the Angel Who appeared to him in the bush; for was He a man? It is no wonder that He who did those works should also have done these. “You killed those who preached about Him”—all the more Him Himself. He shows that they are disobedient to God, to Angels, to the Prophets, to the Spirit, to everyone; as Scripture also says elsewhere, “Lord, they have killed Your Prophets and torn down Your altars.” (1 Kings xix. 10.) They, then, defend the Law and say, “He blasphemes against Moses.” He therefore shows that they are the ones who blaspheme, and that it is (their blasphemy is not only against Moses, but) against God. He shows that “they” have been doing this from the very beginning; that “they” themselves have destroyed their “customs”; that these are unnecessary; that while they accuse him and say he opposed Moses, they themselves were opposing the Spirit—and not merely opposing Him, but adding murder to it—and that their hostility had been there all along, from the very beginning. Do you see that he shows them acting in opposition both to Moses and to everyone else, and failing to keep the Law? And yet Moses had said, “The Lord will raise up a Prophet for you” (Deut. xviii. 18); and the others also foretold that this One (Christ) would come; and again the prophet said, “What house will you build Me?” and again, “Did you offer Me slaughtered animals and sacrifices” during those “forty years?” Such is the bold speech of a man bearing the Cross. Let us imitate this too: even if it is not a time of war, it is always a time to speak boldly. For, “I spoke,” someone says, “of Your testimonies before kings, and was not ashamed.” (Ps. cxix. 46.) If we happen to be among pagans, let us silence them in this way, without anger, without harshness. (Comp. Hom. in 1 Cor. iv. §6; xxxiii. §4, 5; Col. xi. §2.) For if we do it with anger, it no longer seems to be boldness (of one who is confident of his cause,) but passion; if we do it gently, this is true boldness. For one and the same thing cannot possibly be both a success and a failure in the same respect. Boldness is a success; anger is a failure. So if we are to speak boldly, we must be free from anger, so that no one can attribute our words to it. However just your words may be, when you speak in anger, you ruin everything—however boldly you speak, however fairly you rebuke, or whatever else you do. See how free from passion this man is as he speaks to them! He did not insult them; he only reminded them of the Prophets’ words. To show you that it was not anger, at the very moment he was suffering at their hands, he prayed, “Do not charge them with this sin.” He was far from speaking these words in anger; he spoke in grief and sorrow for their sake. Indeed, this is why it describes his appearance, saying that “they saw his face as if it were the face of an angel”: so that they might believe. Let us, then, be free from anger. The Holy Spirit does not dwell where anger is; the angry person is cursed. Nothing wholesome can come near where anger erupts. Just as a storm at sea brings great turmoil and loud shouting, and leaves no time for lessons in wisdom (φιλοσοφεῖν), so it is with anger. If the soul is to be able either to say anything wise or to receive instruction in wisdom, it must first be in the harbor. Do you not see how, when we want to discuss serious matters, we look for places free from noise, where everything is still and calm, so that we will not be distracted and unsettled? But if noise outside us unsettles us, how much more does disturbance within! If someone prays, he prays to no purpose “with anger and disputes” (1 Tim. ii. 8); if he speaks, he will only make himself ridiculous; if he stays silent, the same will be true even then; if he eats, he is harmed even then; whether he drinks or does not drink, whether he sits or stands or walks, whether he sleeps—for such fancies haunt these people even in their dreams. What about such people is not unpleasant? Ugly eyes, a twisted mouth, limbs shaking and swollen, a foul tongue that spares no one, a distracted mind, ugly gestures: so much to disgust us. Look at the eyes of the demon-possessed, of drunkards, and of madmen: how do they differ from one another? Is it not all madness? What does it matter if it lasts only a moment? The madman too is possessed for a moment; but what is worse than this? And they are not ashamed to offer that excuse: “I did not know,” someone says, “what I was saying.” And how did you come not to know—you, a rational human being, given reason precisely so that you would not act like creatures without reason, like a wild horse swept away by rage and passion? In fact, the excuse itself condemns you. You should have known what you were saying. “It was passion,” you say, “that spoke the words, not I.” How can that be? Passion has no power unless it gets it from you. You might as well say, “It was my hand that inflicted the wounds, not I.” What situation do you think needs anger most? Would you not say war and battle? But even then, if anything is done in anger, everything is spoiled and ruined. Of all people, those who fight should avoid becoming enraged; of all people, those who want to hurt others (τοὺς ὑβρίζοντας) should avoid becoming enraged. How is it possible to fight, then? you will ask. With reason, with self-control (ἐπιεικείᾳ): for fighting means standing in opposition. Do you not see that even these (common) wars are governed by definite laws, order, and times? Anger is nothing but an irrational impulse, and an irrational creature cannot possibly do anything rational. For example, this man spoke such words, and did so without passion. And Elijah said, “How long will you limp on both your knees?” (1 Kings xviii. 21), and did not say it in passion. And Phinehas killed, and did so without passion. Passion does not let a person see; like a battle at night, it leads him wherever it wants, with his eyes blindfolded and his ears stopped up. Let us, then, rid ourselves of this demon; let us subdue it as soon as it begins; let us make the sign of the Cross on our breast as a kind of bridle. Anger is a shameless dog, but let it learn to obey the law. If there is a dog in a sheepfold so savage that it will not obey the shepherd’s command or recognize his voice, everything is lost and ruined. It is kept with the sheep, but if it makes a meal of the sheep, it is useless and is put to death. If your dog has learned to obey you, feed it: it is useful when it barks at wolves, at robbers, and at the robbers’ leader, rather than at the sheep or at friends. If it does not obey, it ruins everything; if it does not learn to listen to you, it destroys everything. Do not let anger consume the gentleness within you; let it guard and nourish it. And it will guard it, so that it can graze in complete safety, if it destroys wicked and evil thoughts and drives the devil away on every side. This is how gentleness is preserved: when evil deeds are admitted nowhere. This is how we become worthy of respect: when we learn not to be shameless. Nothing makes a person so shameless as a guilty conscience. Why are prostitutes shameless? Why are virgins modest? Is it not because of their sin that the former are like this, and because of their chastity that the latter are? Nothing makes a person so shameless as sin. “And yet,” you say, “on the contrary, it brings shame.” Yes, to someone who condemns himself; but it makes someone who has lost the ability to blush even more reckless, for despair makes people daring. For “the wicked,” Scripture says, “when he reaches the depths of evil, becomes contemptuous.” (Prov. xviii. 3.) But someone who is shameless will also be reckless, and someone who is reckless will be daring. See how gentleness is destroyed when evil thoughts gnaw at it. This is why there is such a dog, barking fiercely: we also have a sling and a stone (you know what I mean); we also have a spear, a fence, and a cattle pen. Let us keep our thoughts safe from harm. If the dog is gentle (σαίνῃ) with the sheep, but savage toward outsiders, and keeps a vigilant watch, this is what makes a good dog: however hungry it is, it does not devour the sheep; however full it is, it does not spare the wolves. This is how anger is meant to be too: however provoked, it must not abandon gentleness; however calm, it must be alert against evil thoughts. It must recognize its friend and not abandon him however much he beats it, and attack the intruder however much he pets it. The devil often pets it; let the dog recognize at once that he is an intruder. In the same way, let us caress (σαίνωμεν) Virtue, even if she causes us pain, and show our aversion to Vice, even if she gives us pleasure. Let us not be worse than dogs, which do not desert their master even when they are whipped and choked; but even if a stranger feeds them, they still hurt him. There are times when anger is useful, but that is when it barks at strangers. What does this mean: “Whoever is angry with his brother without a cause?” (Matt. v. 22.) It means: Do not fight for your own cause or avenge yourself; if you see someone else suffering a deadly wrong, reach out your hand to help him. This is no longer passion when you are free from all concern for yourself alone. David had Saul in his power, and was not moved by passion: he did not thrust the spear into the enemy he had in his power, but took his revenge on the Devil. (1 Sam. xxvi. 7.) Moses, when he saw a foreigner doing harm, even killed him (Exod. ii. 12); but when it was one of his own people, he did not do so. He wanted to reconcile those who were brothers, but did not treat the others that way. That “most meek” (Num. xii. 3) Moses, as Scripture testifies about him—see how he was stirred to action! But we are not like that. On the contrary, where we should show meekness, no wild beast is as fierce as we are; where we should be stirred to action, no one is so dull and sluggish. (Hom. vi. de laud. Pauli, ad fin.) We never use our faculties for their intended purpose, and that is why our lives are spent to no purpose. Even with tools, if someone uses one in place of another, everything is spoiled. If someone takes his sword but then uses only his hand where he should use the sword to cut, he accomplishes nothing; again, where he should use his hand, he ruins everything by taking up the sword. In the same way, a physician ruins everything if he does not cut where he should, and cuts where he should not. So I beg you, let us use this thing (τᾥ πράγματι) at the proper time. There is never a proper time for anger when we are fighting for our own cause; but if it is our duty to correct others, that is the time to use it, so that we may rescue others by force. (Hom. in Matt. xvi. §7.) In this way we will both be like God, always keeping a spirit free from anger, and attain the good things to come, through the grace and loving kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom, to the Father and the Holy Spirit together, be glory, dominion, and honor, now and always, forever and ever. Amen.
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Homilies on Acts, Homily 17
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