Homilies on Acts, Homily 22

“There was a man in Caesarea named Cornelius, a centurion of the regiment called the Italian regiment, a devout man who feared God with his whole household, gave generous alms to the people, and prayed to God continually. About the ninth hour of the day, he clearly saw in a vision an angel of God coming to him and saying, Cornelius. When he looked at him, he was afraid and said, What is it, Lord? And he said to him, Your prayers and your alms have come up as a memorial before God.” This man is not a Jew or one of those under the Law, but he had already anticipated our way of life. Notice that, so far, two people of high rank have received the faith—the eunuch at Gaza and this man—and notice the trouble taken on their behalf. But do not imagine that this was because of their high rank. God forbid! It was because of their piety. Scripture mentions their distinguished positions to show how great their piety was, since it is more remarkable for someone with wealth and power to be like these men. What makes the first man praiseworthy is that he undertook such a long journey, even though no (festival) season required it; that he read along the road while riding in his chariot; that he pleaded with Philip; and countless other things. What makes the second man so praiseworthy is that he gives alms and prays and is a righteous man while holding such a command. The writer describes him so fully so that no one can say that the scriptural account tells falsehoods: “Cornelius,” he says, “a centurion of the regiment called the Italian regiment.” (v. 1.) A “regiment,” σπεἵρα, is what we now call a “numerus.” “A devout man,” he says, “who feared God with his whole household” (v. 2): so that you will not imagine these things are done because of his high position.—When Paul was to be converted, no angel appeared, but the Lord Himself. And He does not send him to some great person, but to someone quite ordinary. Here, by contrast, He brings the chief Apostle (to these Gentiles), rather than sending them to him. In this He accommodates their weakness, knowing how such people need to be treated. Indeed, on many occasions we find Christ Himself hurrying (to such), because they are weaker. Or (it may be) because (Cornelius) could not leave home himself. But here again alms receive high praise, just as they did there through Tabitha. “A devout man,” it says, “who feared God with his whole household.” Let those of us who neglect the members of our own households listen to this, when this man cared for his soldiers too. “And who gave alms,” it says, “to all the people.” Both his beliefs and his life were right. “About the ninth hour of the day, he clearly saw in a vision an angel of God coming to him and saying, Cornelius.” (v. 3.) Why does he see the angel? This too was to give Peter complete assurance—or rather, not him, but the others, the weaker ones. “At the ninth hour,” when he was free from his responsibilities and at peace, when he was praying and feeling remorse for his sins. “When he looked at him, he was afraid.” (v. 4.) Notice that the angel does not immediately say what he has to say, but first awakens and lifts his mind. The sight brought fear, but only moderate fear, just enough to hold his attention. Then the words also relieved his fear. The fear awakened him; the praise softened what was unpleasant in the fear. “Your prayers,” he says, “and your alms have come up as a memorial before God. Now send men to Joppa and send for a man named Simon, whose surname is Peter.” (v. 5.) To keep them from going to the wrong person, he identifies the man by both his surname and his location. “He is staying,” he says, “with a man named Simon, a tanner, whose house is by the sea.” (v. 6.) Do you notice how the Apostles, because they loved solitude and quiet, preferred the secluded parts of cities? “With a man named Simon, a tanner”: but what if there happened to be another? Look, there is another identifying detail: he lives by the sea. All three details could not possibly coincide (elsewhere). He does not tell him why he is to send for him, so as not to lessen his intense desire, but leaves him eagerly longing and waiting for what he will hear. “When the Angel who spoke to Cornelius had left, he called two of his household servants and a devout soldier from among those who attended him continually. After explaining everything to them, he sent them to Joppa.” (v. 7, 8.) Do you see that the writer has a purpose in saying this? (it shows) that those too “who attended him continually” were like him. “After explaining the whole matter to them”: notice how unassuming the man is. He does not say, Bring Peter to me. Instead, to persuade him to come as well, he explains the whole matter.—This was arranged by Providence.—He chose not to use the authority of his rank to bring Peter to him. That is why “he explained the matter.” Such was the man's restraint, even though someone staying with a tanner would not have seemed very important. “The next day, as they traveled and approached the city” (v. 9.)—notice how the Spirit coordinates the times: He causes this to happen no earlier and no later—“Peter went up on the housetop about the sixth hour to pray”: that is, privately and quietly, as in an upstairs room. “He became very hungry and wanted to eat; but while they were preparing the food, he fell into a trance.” (v. 10.) What does this expression, ἔκστασις, “trance,” mean? Rather, a kind of spiritual vision (θεωρία) was presented to him: his soul was, so to speak, taken out of his body (ἐξέστη). “He saw heaven opened and a vessel tied at its four corners descending to him, like a great sheet, and lowered to the earth. In it were all kinds of four-footed animals of the earth, wild beasts, crawling creatures, and birds of the air. And a voice came to him: Get up, Peter; kill and eat. But Peter said, No, Lord; for I have never eaten anything common or unclean. And the voice spoke to him again a second time: What God has cleansed, you must not call common. This happened three times, and the vessel was taken back up into heaven.” (v. 11–16.) What is this? It is a symbol of the whole world. The man was uncircumcised, and—because he had nothing in common with the Jews—they would all accuse Peter of breaking the Law: “You went in to uncircumcised men and ate with them.” (ch. xi. 3) This was deeply offensive to them. Notice, then, how Providence arranges things. Peter himself also says, “I have never eaten”: not because he himself was afraid—far be that thought from us—but because the Spirit arranges it so that he can answer his accusers by saying that he did object. For they regarded observing the Law as absolutely necessary. He was being sent to the Gentiles. So, to keep them too from accusing him, see how many things are arranged (by the Providence of God). To keep it from seeming like a mere fancy, “this happened three times. I said,” he reports, “No, Lord, for I have never eaten anything common or unclean.—And the voice came to him: What God has cleansed, you must not call common.” (ch. xi. 8, with x. 14.) It seems to be addressed to him, but the whole thing is intended for the Jews. For if the teacher is rebuked, how much more are they. The linen sheet represents the earth, and the wild beasts in it are the Gentiles. The command “Kill and eat” means that he must go to them too; and its happening three times signifies baptism. “What God has cleansed,” it says, “you must not call common.” What boldness! Why did he object? So that no one could say God was testing him, as in the case of Abraham. That is why he says, “No, Lord,” and so on, without contradicting Him—just as He also said to Philip, “How many loaves do you have?” He asked not to learn, but to test, or “prove him.” And yet it was the same (Lord) who had spoken earlier (in the Law) about clean and unclean things. But that sheet also contained “all the four-footed animals of the earth”: the clean together with the unclean. And despite all this, he did not know what it meant. “Now while Peter was wondering to himself what the vision he had seen might mean, the men sent by Cornelius had asked where Simon's house was and stood at the gate. They called out and asked whether Simon, whose surname was Peter, was staying there. But while Peter,” it says, “was wondering to himself” (v. 17, 18), the men arrive at just the right moment to resolve his uncertainty. In the same way, (the Lord) first allowed Joseph to become troubled in mind, and then sends the Angel. For the soul readily accepts the answer when it has first been puzzled. His uncertainty neither lasts long (when it does arise), nor (does it arise) before this, but precisely when they “asked whether he was staying there. While Peter was thinking about the vision, the Spirit said to him, Look, three men are looking for you. So get up, go downstairs, and go with them without hesitation, for I have sent them.” (supra, p. 142, and 145, note 7; v. 19, 20.) This too gives Peter a defense in answering the disciples: he did hesitate, and was instructed not to hesitate. “For I,” He says, “have sent them.” How great the Spirit's authority is! What God does, the Spirit is said to do. The Angel does not speak this way. First he says, “Your prayers and your alms have ascended as a memorial before God,” to show that he has been sent from there; then he adds, “Now send men,” and so on. The Spirit does not speak that way, but says, “For I have sent them. Then Peter went down to the men sent to him by Cornelius and said, Here I am, the man you are looking for. Why have you come? And they said, Cornelius the centurion, a righteous man who fears God and is well spoken of by the whole Jewish nation, was instructed by God through a holy angel to send for you to come to his house and to hear what you have to say.” (v. 21, 22.) They praise him to persuade Peter that an Angel really has appeared to him. “Then he invited them in,” (b) so that they would suffer no harm, “and gave them lodging.” From then on he eats with them without misgivings. “The next day Peter went with them, and some brothers from Caesarea accompanied him. The following day they entered Caesarea.” (v. 23, 24.) The man was a prominent person, and the city where he was then living was prominent too. (a) But let us go back over what has been said. “There was a man in Caesarea,” and so on. (Recapitulation, v. 1, 2.) Notice with whom the reception of the Gentiles begins—with “a devout man,” someone whose works proved him worthy. For if they are still offended even under these circumstances, what would have happened if things had been otherwise! But notice how complete the assurance is. (c) Everything is done (in the way it is done) for this purpose, and the matter begins in Judea. (d) “He clearly saw in a vision,” and so on. (v. 3). The Angel appeared to him while he was awake, not asleep, during the day, “about the ninth hour. He saw an Angel of God coming to him and saying, Cornelius. When he looked at him, he was afraid.” He was so absorbed in his own activity. This implies that he saw the Angel because the Angel called out to him; if he had not called, Cornelius would not have seen him, so absorbed was he in what he was doing. But the Angel says to him, “Your prayers and your alms have come up as a memorial before God. Now send men to Joppa and send for a man named Simon, who is called Peter.” (v. 5.) Up to this point, he indicated that sending for Peter would have good results, but did not explain what kind of good. Likewise, Peter does not recount the whole matter either. Everywhere the accounts are only partial, to make the listeners pay close attention to what is said. “Send and call for Simon”: in the same way, the Angel simply calls Philip. “As they traveled and approached the city” (v. 9): so that Peter would not remain puzzled too long. “Peter went up on the housetop,” and so on. Notice that even his hunger did not make him turn to the sheet. “Get up, Peter,” says the Voice, “kill and eat.” (v. 13.) He was probably on his knees when he saw the vision.—It seems to me that this also signifies the Gospel (or, “the Preaching”). The circumstances made it clear that what was happening came from God: he saw it (descending) from above, he was in a trance, and the voice came from there. And his confessing three times that the creatures there were unclean, and its coming from there and being drawn back there again (all this), strongly attest to the cleanness (imparted to them).—But why is this done? For the sake of those to whom he is about to recount it afterward. For he himself had been told, “Do not go among the Gentiles.” (Matt. x. 5.) * * For if Paul needed both (to give) circumcision and (to offer) sacrifice, much more (was some assurance needed) then, at the beginning of the Preaching, while they were still weaker. (Acts xvi. 3; xxi. 26.)—Notice too that he did not receive them immediately. For it says that they “called out and asked whether Simon, whose surname was Peter, was staying there.” (v. 18.) Since the house looked so humble, they asked down below, making inquiries of the neighbors. “While Peter was thinking, the Spirit said to him, Get up, go downstairs, and go without hesitation, for I have sent them.” (v. 19, 20.) He does not say, The vision appeared to you for this purpose, but, “I have sent them. Then Peter went down” (v. 21)—this is how the Spirit must be obeyed, without demanding reasons. To be told by Him, Do this, believe this, is enough to give complete assurance. Nothing more (is needed).—“Then Peter went down and said, Here I am, the man you are looking for. Why have you come?” He saw a soldier; he saw him as an ordinary man. He was not afraid. On the contrary, he first acknowledged that he was the person they were looking for, and then asked the reason (of their coming), so that no one would suppose he was asking because he wanted to hide. (he asks it) so that, if the matter is immediately urgent, he can go with them at once; but if not, he can receive them as guests. “And they said, etc. into his house.” (v. 22.) This was what he had ordered them to do. Do not think he has done this out of contempt: he has sent for you because he was ordered to, not out of contempt. “Cornelius was waiting for them and had gathered his relatives and close friends.” (v. 24.) It was right for his relatives and friends to gather around him. But since they were there, they would have heard from him (what had happened). See how powerful alms are, both in the previous discourse and here! There they delivered someone from physical death; here, from eternal death, and opened the gates of heaven. So much trouble is taken to bring Cornelius to the faith: an angel is sent, the Spirit works, the chief of the Apostles is brought to him, such a vision is shown—in short, nothing is left undone. How many other centurions, tribunes, and kings there were, yet none of them received what this man did! Listen, all of you who hold military commands, all of you who stand beside kings. “A righteous man,” it says, “who fears God; devout” (v. 2, and 22); and more than all this, he was so with his whole household. He was not like us, who do everything to make our servants afraid of us, but nothing to make them devout. And with the household servants too, the same * *. This man was different: he was “one who feared God with his whole household” (v. 2), for he was like a common father to those with him and to all the others (under his command.) But notice what (the soldier) himself says. For, fearing * *, he also adds: “well spoken of by the whole nation.” So what if he was uncircumcised? Why, even they speak well of him. Nothing compares with alms. This practice has great power when the alms flow from pure sources. When they come from unjust sources, they are like a fountain pouring out mud; but when they come from honest earnings, they are like a clear, pure stream in a garden, pleasant to look at, pleasant to touch, light and cool when offered in the midday heat. Such are alms. Beside this fountain stand no poplars, pines, or cypresses, but other plants, far better than these, growing tall and beautiful: friendship with God, praise from people, glory before God, goodwill from everyone, the wiping away of sins, great boldness, contempt for wealth. This is the fountain that nourishes the plant of love. For nothing nourishes love like mercy: it makes love's branches rise high. This fountain is better than the one in Paradise (Gen. ii. 10): a fountain that does not divide into four branches, but reaches heaven itself. It gives rise to that river “which springs up into eternal life” (John iv. 14). Let Death fall upon it, and the fountain extinguishes it like a spark. Such are the mighty blessings it brings wherever it falls. It quenches the river of fire as though it were a spark; it strangles that worm as nothing else can. (Mark ix. 44.) Whoever has this will not gnash his teeth. Let a little of its water fall on the chains, and it dissolves them. Let it merely touch the burning brands, and it quenches them all.—A fountain does not pour out streams for a while and then run dry—otherwise it would no longer be a fountain—but keeps on gushing. So let our fountain pour out streams of mercy (in alms) more abundantly. This brings joy to the recipient. This is what alms mean: pouring out a stream that is both abundant and continuous. If you want God to rain His mercy down on you as from fountains, have a fountain yourself. And yet there is no comparison (between God's fountain and yours). For if you open the mouths of this fountain, the mouths of God's Fountain are so great that they surpass every abyss. God only looks for an opening on our side, and then pours His blessings out of His storehouses. When He spends, when He gives lavishly, then He is rich, then He has abundance. That fountain's mouth is wide; its water is pure and clear. If you do not block the fountain here, you will not block that fountain either.—Let no unfruitful tree stand beside it, so that its spray will not be wasted. Do you have wealth? Do not plant poplars there, for that is what luxury is like: it consumes much, has nothing to show for itself, and spoils the fruit. Do not plant a pine tree—that is what extravagance in clothing is like, beautiful only to look at and useful for nothing—or a fir tree, or any other tree that consumes resources but serves no useful purpose. Fill it densely with young shoots. Plant everything fruitful in the hands of the poor, whatever you wish. No soil is richer than this. Though the hand's reach is short, the tree it plants springs up to heaven and stands firm. This is what it means to plant. For whatever is planted in the earth will perish, if not now, then at least a hundred years from now. You plant many trees whose fruit you will never enjoy; death comes before you can enjoy it. This tree will give you its fruit then, when you are dead.—If you plant, do not plant in the gullet of gluttony, so that the fruit does not end up in the latrine. Plant in the belly pinched by hunger, so that the fruit may spring up to heaven. Refresh the poor person's distressed soul, so that you do not cramp your own soul, which has ample room.—Do you not see that plants watered too heavily at the root rot, while those watered in moderation grow? In the same way, do not drench your own belly, so that the tree's root does not rot. Water what is thirsty, so that it may bear fruit. If you water in moderation, the sun will not wither the plants; but if you water excessively, it will wither them. Such is the sun's nature. Excess is bad in everything, so let us cut it away, so that we too may receive what we ask for.—Fountains, it is said, rise in the highest places. Let our souls rise high, and our alms will flow in a swift stream. An elevated soul cannot help being merciful, and a merciful soul cannot help being elevated. For whoever despises wealth rises above the root of evils.—Fountains are most often found in solitary places. Let us withdraw our souls from the crowd, and alms will gush from us. The more fountains are cleaned, the more abundantly they flow. So it is with us: the more we spend, the more every good thing grows.—Whoever has a fountain has nothing to fear; so let us have no fear either. For this fountain serves us for drinking, irrigation, building, and everything. There is no better drink: it cannot make anyone drunk. It is better to possess such a fountain than fountains flowing with gold. The soul that produces this gold is better than any gold-bearing soil. For it brings us into the palaces above, rather than these earthly ones. The gold becomes an ornament for the Church of God. From this gold is forged “the sword of the Spirit” (Eph. vi. 17), the sword that beheads the dragon. From this fountain come the precious stones on the King's head. So let us not neglect such great wealth, but give our alms generously, so that we may be found worthy of God's mercy, through the grace and tender compassion of His only-begotten Son, with Whom may the Father and the Holy Spirit together receive glory, dominion, and honor, now and always, forever and ever. Amen.