Go to Related Reading
About this book

Homilies on Acts, Homily 3

“Then they returned to Jerusalem from the mount called Olivet, which is a sabbath day’s journey from Jerusalem.” “Then they returned,” it says, that is, once they had heard. They could not have borne it if the angel had not (ὑπερέθετο) referred them to another Coming. It seems to me that these things also took place on a sabbath day. Otherwise he would not have specified the distance this way, saying, “from the mount called Olivet, which is a sabbath day’s journey from Jerusalem,” unless they were then walking a certain fixed distance on the sabbath day. “And when they had come in,” it says, “they went up into an upper room, where they were staying.” So after the Resurrection they stayed in Jerusalem. “Both Peter, and James, and John”: the latter is no longer mentioned only with his brother; now the two are named together with Peter. “And Andrew, and Philip, and Thomas, Bartholomew, and Matthew, and James (the son) of Alphaeus, and Simon Zelotes, and Judas (the brother) of James.” (v. 13.) He did well to name the disciples. Since one had betrayed Christ and another had been unbelieving, he shows by this that all of them except the first were preserved. “These all continued with one accord in prayer, together with the women.” (v. 14.) For this is a powerful weapon in trials, and they had been trained in it. [“Continuing with one accord.”] Good. (καλὥς). Besides, the trial they were facing pushed them toward this, for they were extremely afraid of the Jews. “With the women,” it says, because he had said that they had followed Him: “and with Mary the mother of Jesus.” (Luke xxiii. 55.) How then [is it said, that “that disciple”] took her to his own home” (John 19:26–27) at that time? But by then the Lord had brought them together again, and so returned. “And with His brothers.” These too had been unbelieving before. (John 7:5.) “And in those days,” it says, “Peter stood up in the midst of the disciples and said.” (v. 15.) He always opens the discussion, because he was ardent, because Christ had entrusted the flock to him, and because he held first place in honor. (“The number of the names together was about a hundred and twenty.) Men and brothers,” he says, “this Scripture had to be fulfilled, which the Holy Spirit spoke beforehand,” [etc.] (v. 16.) Why did he not ask Christ to give him someone in place of Judas? It is better as it is. First, they were occupied with other things. Second, this was the greatest proof that could be given of Christ’s presence with them: as He had chosen when He was among them, so He chose now while absent. And this was no small consolation to them. But notice how Peter does everything by common consent and nothing imperiously. And he does not speak this way without a purpose. Notice how he consoles them about what had happened. In fact, what had happened had caused them no small dismay. If many people today question this incident, what must they have been saying then? “Men and brothers,” says Peter. If the Lord called them brothers, he has all the more right to do so. [“Men,” he says]: since they were all present. See the dignity of the Church, its angelic condition! There was no distinction there, “neither male nor female.” I wish the churches were like that now! No one there had his mind full of some worldly matter; no one was anxiously thinking about household affairs. That is how beneficial trials are; that is the advantage of afflictions! “This Scripture,” he says, “had to be fulfilled, which the Holy Spirit spoke beforehand.” He always comforts them with the prophecies. Christ does the same on every occasion. In just the same way, Peter shows here that nothing strange had happened, only what had already been foretold. “This Scripture had to be fulfilled,” he says, “which the Holy Spirit spoke beforehand by the mouth of David.” He does not say David, but the Spirit through him. See what kind of doctrine the writer presents at the very outset of the book. Do you see that it was not for nothing that I said at the beginning of this work that this book is the Polity of the Holy Spirit? “Which the Holy Spirit spoke beforehand by the mouth of David.” Notice how he claims him as their own (οἰκειοὕται), and that it is an advantage to them that David said this rather than some other prophet. “Concerning Judas,” he says, “who was guide.” Here again notice the man’s philosophical temper. He does not mention him with scorn or say “that wretch” or “that scoundrel”; he simply states the fact. He does not even say “who betrayed Him,” but does what he can to shift the guilt onto others, and he does not come down hard even on them: “Who was guide,” he says, “to those who arrested Jesus.” Furthermore, before he tells where David had spoken, he relates what had happened to Judas, so that from present events he may draw assurance about future ones and show that this man had already received what he deserved. “For he was numbered,” he says, “with us, and had obtained a share in this ministry. Now this man acquired a field with the reward of iniquity.” (v. 17, 18.) He gives his speech a moral turn and covertly mentions the cause of the wickedness, because it carried a rebuke with it. And he does not say, The Jews, but “this man acquired” it. Since the minds of weak people pay less attention to future things than to present ones, he talks about the punishment that was inflicted immediately. “And falling headlong, he burst open in the middle.” He does well to dwell not on the sin but on the punishment. “And,” he says, “all his bowels gushed out.” This brought them consolation. “And it became known to all the inhabitants of Jerusalem, so that that field is called in their own language Akeldama, that is, the field of blood.” (v. 19.) The Jews gave it this name not for this reason but because of Judas. Here, however, Peter gives it this reference; and when he brings forward the adversaries as witnesses, both by the fact that they named it and by saying “in their own language,” this is what he means. Then, after the event, he aptly brings in the Prophet, saying, “For it is written in the Book of Psalms, Let his dwelling be desolate, and let no one live in it” (v. 20) (Ps. lxix. 25). This is said of the field and the dwelling. “And let another take his bishopric”; that is, his office, his priesthood. So, he says, this is not my own counsel, but that of Him who foretold these things. He brings in the Prophet as a witness so that he may not seem to be undertaking something great, just like what Christ had done. “Therefore, of these men who have accompanied us all the time, it is necessary...” (v. 21.) Why does he make it their business too? So that the matter would not become a cause of strife and they would not fall into quarrels over it. If the Apostles themselves once did this, those men were all the more likely to. He always avoids this. That is why at the beginning he said, “Men and brothers. It is necessary” to choose from among you. He refers the decision to the whole body. In this way he makes those who are elected objects of reverence and keeps himself clear of any ill will from the rest. Occasions like these always give rise to great evils. Now, to show that someone must be appointed, he brings in the prophet as witness. But from among whom? “Of these,” he says, “who have accompanied us all the time.” To have said, The worthy must come forward, would have insulted the others. Instead he makes length of time the criterion. He does not simply say, “These who have accompanied us,” but “all the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us, beginning from the baptism of John until the day He was taken up from us, one must be ordained to be a witness with us of His resurrection” (v. 22), so that their company (ὁ χορὸς) would not be left mutilated. Then why was it not left to Peter to make the choice himself? What was the reason? This: so that he would not seem to be handing it out as a favor. Besides, he had not yet received the Spirit. “And they appointed two, Joseph called Barsabbas, who was surnamed Justus, and Matthias.” (v. 23.) He did not appoint them. He was the one who introduced the proposal, while pointing out that even this was not his own idea but had been foretold in prophecy long ago. So he acted as one interpreting, not as one dictating. “Joseph called Barsabbas, who was surnamed Justus.” Perhaps both names are given because there were others with the same name, since among the Apostles too several had the same name: James, and James (the son) of Alphaeus; Simon Peter, and Simon Zelotes; Judas (the brother) of James, and Judas Iscariot. The name, however, may have come from a change of life, and very likely also of moral character. “They appointed two,” it says, “Joseph called Barsabbas, who was surnamed Justus, and Matthias. And they prayed and said, You, Lord, who know the hearts of all people, show which of these two You have chosen to take a share in this ministry and apostleship, from which Judas fell away by transgression, to go to his own place.” (v. 24, 25.) They do well to mention the sin of Judas, showing that what they are asking for is a witness: they are not increasing the number, only refusing to let it shrink. “And they cast their lots” (for the Spirit had not yet been sent), “and the lot fell on Matthias, and he was numbered with the eleven Apostles.” (v. 26.) “Then,” it says, “they returned to Jerusalem from the mount called Olivet (Recapitulation), [“which is nigh to Jerusalem, at the distance of a sabbath-day’s journey:”]. So they did not have a long way to go, which might have alarmed them while they were still trembling and afraid. “And when they had come in, they went up into an upper room.” They did not dare to show themselves in the town. They also did well to go up into an upper room, since that made it harder for anyone to arrest them right away. “And they continued,” it says, “with one accord in prayer.” Do you see how watchful they were? “Continuing in prayer,” and “with one accord,” as if with one soul, persevering in it: two things recorded to their credit. [“Where they were abiding,” etc., to, “And Mary the Mother of Jesus and His brethren.”] Joseph was perhaps dead by then. We cannot suppose that when the brothers had become believers, Joseph did not believe. He in fact had believed before anyone else. Certainly we nowhere find him regarding Christ as merely a man, as when His mother said, [“Thy father and I did seek thee sorrowing.” (Luke ii. 48.) And upon another occasion, it was said,] “Your mother and your brothers are looking for you.” (Matt. 12:47.) So Joseph knew this before anyone else. And to them [the brethren] Christ said, “The world cannot hate you, but it hates Me.” (John vii. 7.) Again, consider the modesty of James. He was the one who received the bishopric of Jerusalem, and yet here he says nothing. Notice also the great modesty of the other Apostles: they concede the throne to him and no longer argue with one another. That Church was, so to speak, in heaven. It had nothing to do with this world’s affairs, and it was resplendent not with walls, or even with numbers, but with the zeal of those who made up the assembly. They were “about a hundred and twenty,” it says. These were perhaps the seventy whom Christ Himself had chosen, along with others of the more earnest disciples, such as Joseph and Matthias. (v. 14.) There were many women, he says, who followed Him. (Mark xv. 41.) [“The number of the names together.] Together” they were on every occasion. [“Men and brethren,” etc.] Here is forethought about providing a teacher; here was the first person to ordain a teacher. He did not say, ‘We are enough.’ He was that far above all craving for empty praise, and he looked to one thing alone. And yet he had the same power to ordain as all of them together. But these things were rightly done this way, because of the man’s noble spirit, and because high office in the Church was not then a matter of dignity but of caring for those under one’s charge. So the office did not make those elected proud, since they were being called to dangers, and it did not make those passed over feel aggrieved, as if they had been disgraced. But things are not done this way now. Quite the opposite.—Notice that they were a hundred and twenty, and he asks for one out of the whole body. He did so rightly, since he had been put in charge of them, for Christ had said to him, “And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.” (Luke xxii. 32, Ben.) “For he was numbered with us,” (πρὥτος τοῦ πράγματος αὐθεντει absent from A.B.C ) says Peter. For this reason another must be put forward to be a witness in his place. And see how he imitates his Master: he always speaks from the Scriptures and as yet says nothing about Christ, namely, that He Himself had often predicted this. Nor does he mention where Scripture speaks of Judas’s treachery, for instance, “The mouth of the wicked and the mouth of the deceitful are opened against me” (Ps. cix. 1.). He mentions only where it speaks of his punishment, since this was most useful to them. It shows again the Lord’s benevolence: “For he was numbered with us” (τοὕτο γὰρ αὐτοὺς μάλιστα ὡφέλει· Δείκνυσι πάλιν A.B.C ), he says, “and obtained his lot in this ministry.” He calls it “lot” everywhere, showing that the whole thing comes from God’s grace and election, and reminding them of the old times, since God chose him into His own lot or portion, as long ago He took the Levites. He also dwells on what happened to Judas, showing that the reward of the treachery itself became the herald of the punishment. For he “acquired,” he says, “a field with the reward of the iniquity.” Observe the divine economy in the event. “Of the iniquity,” he says. There are many iniquities, but nothing was ever more iniquitous than this, so the whole affair was one of iniquity. The event became known not only to those who were present but to everyone afterward, so that without meaning to, and without knowing what they were doing, they gave it a name, just as Caiaphas had prophesied without realizing it. God compelled them to call the field in Hebrew “Akeldama.” This also announced the evils that were to come upon the Jews. Peter shows that the prophecy which says, “It would have been good for that man if he had not been born” (Matt. 26:24), had already been partly fulfilled. We may rightly apply this same saying to the Jews as well; if the one who was guide suffered this way, how much more so they. So far, however, Peter says nothing about this. Then, to show that the term “Akeldama” could well be applied to his fate, he brings in the prophet, saying, “Let his dwelling be desolate.” What desolation could be worse than becoming a burial place? And the field may well be called his. He who threw down the price, although others were the buyers, has a right to be counted himself the owner of a great desolation. This desolation was the prelude to that of the Jews, as will become clear if one looks closely at the facts. For indeed they destroyed themselves by famine, and killed many, and the city became a burial place of strangers, of soldiers, for as for those, they would not even have let them be buried, for in fact they were not considered worthy of burial. “Therefore, of these men who have accompanied us,” Peter continues. Notice how eager he is that they should be eyewitnesses. It is true that the Spirit would soon come, and yet great care is taken over this matter. “Of these men,” he says, “who have accompanied us all the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us.” He shows that they had lived with Christ, not merely been present as disciples. In fact, from the very beginning there were many who followed Him at that time. Notice, for instance, how this appears in these words: “One of the two who heard John speak and followed Jesus.—All the time,” he says, “that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us, beginning from the baptism of John.” (John i. 40.) True! No one knew what came before that event, though they did learn it through the Spirit. “Until the day He was taken up from us, one must be ordained to be a witness with us of His resurrection.” He did not say a witness of the rest of his actions, but a witness of the resurrection alone. The witness who had the better claim to be believed was the one who could declare that He Who ate and drank, and was crucified, was the same who rose again. So he had to be a witness not only of the time before this event, nor only of what followed it and of the miracles; what was required was the resurrection. The other matters were public and acknowledged, but the resurrection took place in secret and was evident to these men alone. And they do not say, Angels have told us, but, We have seen. This was what was most needed at that time: that they should be men with a right to be believed, because they had seen. “And they appointed two,” it says. Why not many? So that the disappointment would not spread further and reach many people. Again, it is not without reason that he puts Matthias last. He wants to show that the one honored among people is often inferior before God. And they all pray together, saying, “You, Lord, who know the hearts of all people, show. You,” not “We.” And very fittingly they use the epithet “heart-knowing,” for the choice had to be made by Him Who is this. They were so confident that one of the two would certainly be appointed. They did not say, Choose, but “Show the one chosen,” knowing that all things were foreordained by God. “Whom You chose: one of these two,” they say, “to have his lot in this ministry and apostleship.” For there was also another ministry (διακονία). “And they cast their lots.” They did not yet consider themselves worthy to be informed by some sign. Besides, casting lots accomplished so much even in a case where no prayer was offered and no men of worth were involved, simply because it was done with a right intention—I mean the case of Jonah (Jonah i. 7). How much more did it accomplish here! So he, the one designated, filled up the company and completed the order. But the other candidate was not upset, for the apostolic writers would not have concealed [that or any other] failings of their own, since they tell us that the very chief Apostles were indignant on other occasions (Matt. xx. 24; Matt. xxvi. 8), and not just once, but again and again. So let us imitate them too. And now I am no longer addressing everyone, but those who aim at promotion. If you believe that the election belongs to God, do not be displeased. (Mark x. 14, 21; xiv. 4.) It is with Him that you are displeased, and with Him that you are angry. He is the one who made the choice. You are doing exactly what Cain did. Just because his brother’s sacrifice was preferred, he was indignant, when he should have felt contrition. However, that is not my point here. My point is this: God knows how to arrange things for the best. In many cases you are more admirable in disposition than the other man, but you are not the right person. Or again, your life is beyond reproach and your habits are those of a well-brought-up man, but in the Church that is not all that is needed. Moreover, one man is suited for one thing, another for another. Do you not notice how much the holy Scripture has said on this matter? But let me tell you why this has become a matter of competition. It is because we come to the episcopate not as to a work of governing and overseeing the brothers, but as to a position of dignity and ease. If you only knew that a bishop is obligated to belong to everyone and to bear everyone’s burden; that others are pardoned when they get angry, but he never is; that excuses are made for others when they sin, but none for him—you would not be eager for the dignity or chase after it. The fact is, the bishop is exposed to everyone’s tongue and everyone’s criticism, whether they are wise or foolish. He is harassed with worries every day, and every night too. He has many who hate him and many who envy him. Do not talk to me about those who curry favor with everyone, who want to sleep, who take up this office as a place of rest. We have nothing to do with them. We are speaking of those who keep watch over your souls, who put the safety and welfare of those under them ahead of their own. Now tell me: suppose a man has ten children who always live with him and are constantly under his control, and still he is anxious about them. What then must a bishop be, who has so many people, not living under the same roof with him, but owing obedience to his authority! But he is honored, you will say. And what sort of honor is that? Why, paupers and beggars abuse him openly in the marketplace. Then why does he not shut them up? Yes, that would be very fitting work for a bishop, wouldn’t it? Then again, if he does not give to everyone, the idle and the hardworking alike, look! there are a thousand complaints on every side. No one is afraid to accuse him and speak evil of him. With civil governors, fear steps in; with bishops, there is nothing of the kind. As for the fear of God, it has no influence on people at all where bishops are concerned. Why should I mention the anxiety connected with the word and teaching, or the painful work of ordinations? Either, perhaps, I am a poor, wretched, incompetent creature, or else things are as I say. A bishop’s soul is exactly like a ship in a storm, battered from every side—by friends, by enemies, by his own people, by strangers. Does not the Emperor rule the whole world, and the bishop a single city? Yet a bishop’s anxieties exceed the emperor’s as much as the swelling, raging sea exceeds in turmoil a river whose waters are merely stirred by the wind. And why? Because in the one case there are many to lend a hand, since everything proceeds by law and rule. In the other there is none of this, and no authority to command. If he is deeply stirred, he is harsh; if the opposite, he is cold! And in him these opposites must meet, so that he is neither despised nor hated. Besides, the very demands of business take up his attention. How many people he has to offend, whether he wants to or not! How many he has to be severe with! I am telling you exactly how it is, as I find it in my own actual experience. I do not think many bishops will be saved; I think many more will perish. The reason is that the task requires a great soul. Many pressures throw a man out of his natural temper, and he needs a thousand eyes on every side. Do you not see how many qualifications a bishop must have? He must be apt to teach, patient, holding fast the faithful word in doctrine (see 1 Tim. iii. 2–9; Tit. i. 7–9). What trouble and effort this requires! And then others do wrong, and he gets all the blame. To pass over everything else: if one soul departs unbaptized, does this not overturn his own whole hope of salvation? The loss of one soul carries a penalty that no words can describe. If the salvation of that soul was so valuable that the Son of God became man and suffered so much, think how severe a punishment its loss must bring! And if in this present life the one who causes another’s destruction deserves death, how much more in the next world. Do not tell me that the presbyter is at fault, or the deacon. The guilt of all of them necessarily falls on the heads of those who ordained them. Let me mention another case. Suppose a bishop inherits a group of men of poor character from his predecessor. What should he do about their past offenses (for there are two cliffs here), so as neither to let the offender go unpunished nor to scandalize the rest? Should his first step be to cut him off? There is no actual present ground for that. But is it right to let him go without a mark against him? Yes, you say, because the fault lies with the bishop who ordained him. Well then, should one refuse to ordain him again and raise him to a higher rank of the ministry? That would announce to everyone that he is a man of poor character, and so one would cause scandal in a different way. Should one promote him to a higher rank, then? That is much worse. So if the only thing to run after in the episcopate were the responsibility of the office itself, no one would be so quick to accept it. But as things are, we chase after it just as we chase the dignities of the world. To have glory with men, we lose ourselves with God. What good is such honor? How obvious its emptiness is! When you covet the rank of bishop, put on the other side of the scale the account to be given after this life. Weigh against it the happiness of a life free of toil, and take into account the different measure of punishment. I mean that even if you have sinned, but only as an individual, your punishment will be nowhere near as great; but if you have sinned as a bishop, you are lost. Remember what Moses endured, what wisdom he showed, what good deeds he performed. Yet for committing only one sin he was bitterly punished, and with good reason, since this fault brought harm to the rest. This was not because the sin was public, but because it was the sin of a spiritual Ruler (ίερέως) cf. S.); for in truth we do not pay the same penalty for public and for hidden faults. (Aug in Ps. xcix. 6.) The sin may be the same, but not the (ζημία) harm of it; in fact, not even the sin itself is the same, for sinning in secret, unseen, is not the same as sinning openly. But a bishop cannot sin unobserved. He is fortunate if he escapes reproach when he does not sin; much less can he expect to escape notice if he does sin. Let him get angry, let him laugh, let him merely dream of a moment’s relaxation, and many scoff, many are offended, many lay down the law, many recall the former bishops and abuse the present one. They do not want to sing the praises of those earlier men; they bring up fellow bishops and presbyters only to find fault with him. War is sweet to the inexperienced, says the proverb; but now one might rather say that even after a man has come out of it, people in general have seen nothing of it. In their eyes it is not war; instead, like those shepherds in Ezekiel, we slaughter and devour. (Ezek. xxxiv. 2.) Which of us can show that he has taken as much care of Christ’s flocks as Jacob did of Laban’s? (Gen. xxxi. 40.) Which of us can tell of the frost by night? Do not talk to me about vigils and all that show. The opposite is plainly the case. Prefects and governors (ὕπαρχοι καὶ τοπάρχαι) of provinces do not enjoy as much honor as the man who governs the Church. If he enters the palace, who comes before him? If he goes to see ladies or visits the houses of the great, no one is given preference over him. The whole state of things is ruined and corrupt. I do not say this to shame us bishops, but to curb your craving for the office. With what conscience (even if you succeed in becoming a bishop, having lobbied for it either in person or through someone else), with what eyes will you look in the face the man who worked with you to that end? What will you plead as your excuse? The man who was raised to the office unwillingly, under compulsion and without his own consent, may have something to say for himself. For the most part even such a man has no pardon to expect, and yet he does to that extent have something to plead in his defense. Think what happened to Simon Magus. What difference does it make that you do not give money, if in place of money you curry favor, lay many plans, and set every kind of machinery in motion? “May your money perish with you!” (Acts viii. 20.) That is what was said to him, and that is what will be said to these men: may your canvassing perish with you, because you thought you could buy the gift of God by human intrigue! But is there no one like that here? God forbid there should be! I do not want any of what I have been saying to apply to you; it is just that the course of the discussion has led us to these topics. In the same way, when we speak against greed, we are not preaching at you, nor against any one person. God grant that we prepared these remedies needlessly. A physician’s wish is that after all his efforts his drugs may be thrown away because they are not needed. That is exactly what we want: that our words may turn out to have been unnecessary, spoken to the wind, so that they remain mere words. I am ready to put up with anything rather than be forced to speak this way. But if you like, we are ready to stop; only let our silence have no bad effects. No one, I imagine, however eager for empty praise he might be, would want to make a show of severity when nothing calls for it. I will leave the teaching to you, for the best teaching is the kind that teaches by actions. Indeed the best physicians, even though their patients’ sickness brings them fees, would rather their friends were well. And so we too want everyone to be well. (2 Cor. xiii. 7.) It is not that we want to be approved and you reproved. If it were possible, I would gladly show you the love I have for you with my very eyes; then no one could reproach me, however rough my language was. “For the words of friends, even if they are insults, can be borne”; more “faithful are the wounds of a friend than the ready kisses of an enemy.” (Prov. xxvii. 6.) There is nothing I love more than you, not even light itself. I would gladly have my eyes put out ten thousand times over if that could convert your souls; your salvation is that much dearer to me than light itself. What good are the sun’s rays to me when despondency over you turns everything before my eyes into thick darkness? Light is good when it shines on a cheerful heart; to a sorrowful heart it even seems a burden. How true this is—may you never learn by experience! However, if any of you happens to fall into sin, just stand by my bedside when I have lain down to rest and ought to be asleep. See whether I am not like a paralyzed man, like a man out of his mind, and, in the prophet’s words, “the light of my eyes, it also has gone from me.” (Ps. xxxviii. 10.) Where is our hope, if you do not make progress? Where is our despondency, if you are doing excellently? I feel as though I have wings when I hear anything good about you. “Fulfill my joy.” (Phil. ii. 2.) This one thing is the burden of my prayers: I long for your progress. But the one thing in which I compete with everyone is this: I love you, I am wrapped up in you, you are my all—father, mother, brothers, children. So do not think that anything I have said was said in a hostile spirit; no, it is for your improvement. It is written, “A brother helped by his brother is like a strong city.” (Prov. xviii. 19.) So do not scorn it, for I do not undervalue what you have to say either. I would even like to be corrected by you. For all (Edd. ‘all we’) of you are brothers, and One is our Master; yet even among brothers one must direct while the others obey. So do not scorn it, but let us do everything to the glory of God, for to Him belongs glory forever and ever. Amen.

Homily 4

Intertextual Commentary on Homilies on Acts, Homily 3

0 commentaries

No commentary on this book yet.

Glossary

Search the Library