Homilies on Acts, Homily 34

“Paul and Barnabas also stayed in Antioch, teaching and preaching the word of the Lord, with many others as well.” Notice their humility again: they let others take part in the preaching too. “And some days later Paul said to Barnabas, Let us go back and visit our brothers in every city where we have preached the word of the Lord, and see how they are doing. And Barnabas decided to take John, whose surname was Mark, with them. But Paul did not think it right (ἡξίου see note 3, p. 213) to take someone who had left them in Pamphylia and had not gone with them to the work. And the disagreement (or exasperation) between them became so sharp that they separated from each other.” (v. 36–39.) Luke has already described the Apostles’ characters for us: one was more tender and lenient, while the other was stricter and sterner. For their gifts differ—(their gifts, I say), since this is clearly a gift—but one suits one kind of character, and the other another; if they exchange places, harm results instead of good. (b) We find this among the Prophets too: different minds, different characters—for instance, Elijah was stern, Moses gentle. So here Paul is more forceful. And yet notice how gentle he is. “He did not think it right,” it says, “to take someone who had left them in Pamphylia.” (a) There does seem to be exasperation (παροξυσμός), but in fact the whole affair is a plan of Divine Providence, so that each should receive his proper place: they needed to stand on different levels, with one leading and the other being led. “And so Barnabas took Mark and sailed to Cyprus; and Paul chose Silas and left, commended by the brothers to the grace of God. And he went through Syria and Cilicia, strengthening the Churches.” (v. 39–41.) This too is a work of Providence. For the Cypriots had shown nothing like the behavior of the people in Antioch and elsewhere: the former needed the gentler character, while the latter needed a character like Paul’s. “Which of them, then,” you ask, “did the right thing—the one who took him, or the one who left him?” *** (c) For just as a general would not choose to keep a lowly person as his baggage carrier forever, neither did the Apostle. This corrected the other’s conduct and taught (Mark) himself a lesson. “Then did Barnabas do wrong?” you ask. “And how is it not wrong (ἄτοπον) that so small a matter should cause so great an evil?” First, no evil came of it; rather, a great good came when they separated, since each could serve whole nations on his own. Besides, they would not readily have chosen to leave each other. But admire the writer, I ask you, for not concealing this either. “Still,” you say, “if they had to separate, let it be without exasperation.” But at the very least, notice that this too shows the human element (in the preaching of the Gospel). For if this needed to be shown (even) in what Christ did, much more here. Besides, the disagreement cannot be called evil when each argues for such purposes (as here) and with good reason. I grant you, if the exasperation had come from pursuing his own interests and fighting for his own honor, this could rightly be (reproved). But if both wanted to instruct and teach, and one took this approach and the other that, what is there to criticize? For in many things they acted on their human judgment; they were not logs or stones. And notice how Paul brings a charge against (Mark) and gives his reason. In his great humility he respected Barnabas, who had shared such great works with him and had been his companion; still, his respect did not lead him to overlook (what was necessary). It is not for us to pronounce which of them gave the better advice. But this much (we may affirm): it was a great arrangement of Providence, if these people were to be granted a second visit while those others were not to be visited even once. (a) “Teaching and preaching the word of the Lord.” (v. 35.) They did not simply stay in Antioch; they taught. What did they “teach,” and what did they “preach” (evangelize)? They both (taught) those who were already believers and (evangelized) those who were not yet believers. “And some days later,” etc. (v. 36.) Their presence was needed because there were countless offenses. (d) “How they are doing,” he says. Naturally, he did not know this. See how he is always alert and concerned, unable to sit idle, though he faced endless dangers. Do you see that cowardice did not bring him to Antioch? He acts just as a physician does with the sick. And he showed the need to visit them by saying, “In which we preached the word. And Barnabas decided,” etc. (v. 37–40.) (So) Barnabas “left and did not go with (him).” (b) The point to consider is that, despite their difference of opinion, they accommodated each other (seeing) that their separation would bring a greater good; this disagreement gave them a reason to do it. What then? Did they leave as enemies? God forbid! In fact, afterward you see Paul praising Barnabas repeatedly in the Epistles. There was “sharp disagreement,” it says, not enmity or quarreling. The disagreement went only so far as to separate them. “And Barnabas took Mark,” etc. And rightly so: neither afterward gave up what he believed beneficial for the sake of his partnership with the other. Indeed, it seems to me that they separated deliberately (κατὰ σύνεσιν), saying to each other, “Since I do not want this and you do, let us divide the places between us so that we do not fight.” So in fact they did this by giving way entirely to each other: Barnabas wanted Paul’s plan to stand, and therefore withdrew; Paul, in turn, wanted the other’s plan to stand, and therefore withdrew. I wish to God that we too would make separations like this, going out to preach. What a wonderful man he is, and how extraordinarily great! This dispute was extremely beneficial to Mark. The awe Paul inspired reformed him, while Barnabas’s kindness kept him from being left behind. So they disagree, but the benefit leads to one and the same end. Seeing Paul choose to leave him behind would fill him with awe and make him condemn himself; seeing Barnabas take his side so firmly would make him love him deeply. And so the teachers’ disagreement corrected the disciple: far from being offended by it, he benefited. For if they had done this for their own honor, he might well have been offended. But if it was for his salvation, and they were contending for the same purpose, to show that the one who honored him * * * had decided well, what is wrong (ἄτοπον) with that? (e) “But Paul,” it says, “left, having chosen Silas and been commended to the grace of God.” What does this mean? They prayed, it says; they appealed to God. See in every instance how the brothers’ prayer can accomplish great things. And now he traveled by land, wanting even through his travels to benefit those who saw (τοὺς ὁρὥντας) him. When they were in a hurry they sailed, but this time they were not. (c) “And he went through Syria and Cilicia, strengthening the Churches. Then he came to Derbe and Lystra.” (v. 41.) Notice Paul’s wisdom: he does not go to other cities before visiting those that had received the Word. For it is foolish to run about at random. Let us do this too: let us teach the first people first, so that they do not become an obstacle to those who come afterward. “And look, there was a disciple there named Timothy, the son of a Jewish woman who believed; but his father was a Greek. The brothers in Lystra and Iconium spoke well of him. Paul wanted him to go with him, and took him and circumcised him because of the Jews in those regions; for they all knew that his father was a Greek.” (ch. xvi. 1–3.) Paul’s wisdom really is amazing! He who had fought so many battles over circumcision, who had done everything toward this end and had not stopped until he had won his point, now circumcises the disciple once the decree is firmly established. He not only allows others to do it, but does it himself. (b) “He wanted him,” it says, “to go with him.” And the astonishing thing is that he even took him along. “Because of the Jews,” it says, “in those parts,” for they would not tolerate hearing the word from an uncircumcised man. (a) Nothing could be wiser. In everything he considered what would be beneficial; he did nothing out of his own preference (προλήψει). (c) And what happened? Notice the success: he circumcised in order to do away with circumcision, for he preached the Apostles’ decrees. “And as they went through the cities, they delivered the decrees for them to keep, which had been established by the Apostles and elders in Jerusalem. And so the Churches were strengthened in the faith and increased in number daily.” (v. 4, 5.) Do you see conflict, and through conflict, the building up of the Church? They built up the Church by doing contrary things themselves, without being attacked by others! They introduced a decree not to circumcise, and he circumcises! “And so the Churches,” it says, “were strengthened in the faith,” and in their numbers: they “increased,” it says, “in number daily.” Then he does not stay on with them, since he had come to visit them. What does he do instead? He goes farther. “Now when they had gone throughout Phrygia and the region of Galatia, and had been forbidden by the Holy Spirit to preach the word in Asia,” (v. 6.) they left Phrygia and Galatia and hurried into the interior. For it says, “After they came to Mysia, they tried to go into Bithynia, but the Spirit did not allow them.” (v. 7.) He does not say why they were forbidden, but he does say that they were “forbidden,” teaching us to obey without questioning and showing that they did many things as human beings. “And the Spirit,” it says, “did not allow them; but passing by Mysia, they came down to Troas.” (v. 8.) “And a vision appeared to Paul in the night: a man of Macedonia stood there and pleaded with him, saying, Come over to Macedonia and help us.” (v. 9.) Why a vision, rather than the Holy Spirit? Because He had forbidden the other course. He wanted to draw them over even in this way, since He also appeared to the saints in a dream, and at the beginning (Paul) himself saw a vision of “a man coming in and laying his hands on him.” (ch. ix. 12.) Christ also appears to him in this way, saying, “You must stand before Caesar.” This too is why He draws him there: so that the preaching may spread. This is why he was forbidden to stay long in the other cities: Christ was urging him onward. For those people were to benefit from John for a long time, and perhaps did not especially need him (Paul), but he needed to go there. And now he crosses over and sets out. “And after he had seen the vision, we immediately tried to go into Macedonia, concluding with certainty that the Lord had called us to preach the Gospel to them.” (v. 10.) Then the writer also mentions the places, as someone recounting a history, and shows where he stayed (namely), in the larger cities, while passing by the rest. “So, setting sail from Troas, we sailed straight to Samothrace, and the next day to Neapolis; and from there to Philippi, which is the chief city of that part of Macedonia, and a colony.” (v. 11, 12.) Being a colony is a great distinction for a city. “And we stayed in this city for several days.” But let us look again at what has been said. (Recapitulation.) “And after some days, Paul said,” etc. (ch. xv. 36.) He presented Barnabas with a reason they needed to travel, saying, “Let us visit the cities in which we preached the word.” “But Paul begged,” etc. (v. 38.) And yet he had no need to beg, since he was about to make an accusation. This happens even when the parties are God and human beings: the human being pleads, and God is angry. For instance, when He says, “If her father had spit in her face” (Num. xii. 14); and again, “Leave Me alone, and in My anger I will wipe out this people.” (Ex. xxxii. 10.) And when Samuel mourns for Saul. (1 Sam. xv. 35.) For both bring about great good. So here too: one is angry, the other is not. The same happens in matters involving us. And the sharp disagreement has good reason: so that Mark may learn a lesson and the affair may not seem mere playacting. For we must not suppose that the man who commands, “Do not let the sun go down on your anger,” (Eph. iv. 26) would have been angry over a matter like this; nor that the man who always gave way would have refused to give way here—the man who loved Paul so much that he had earlier sought him out in Tarsus and brought him to the Apostles, and had shared with him the responsibility for the charitable contribution and the business concerning the decree. But they take their respective parts so that, through their separation, they may instruct and perfect those who need the teaching they were to give. And he does rebuke others, yet commands them to do good to everyone. This is what he does elsewhere when he says, “But you, do not grow tired of doing good.” (2 Thess. iii. 13.) We do this in everyday life too. Here it seems to me that others were also displeased with Paul. So he takes them aside too, does everything needed, and encourages and admonishes them. Harmony can accomplish much, and love can accomplish much. Even if you ask for something great, even if you are unworthy, you will be heard because of your heart’s intention: do not be afraid. “He went,” it says, “through” the cities. “And look, there was a disciple named Timothy, of whom the brothers in Lystra and Iconium spoke well.” (v. 41; xvi. 1.) Timothy had great grace. When Barnabas left (ἀπέστη), Paul finds another man equal to him. Of him he says, “Remembering your tears and your sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother Lois and in your mother Eunice.” (2 Tim. i. 4, 5.) His father remained a Gentile, and that was why (Timothy) had not been circumcised. (a) Notice that the Law was already being broken. Or, if that is not the explanation, I suppose he was born after the preaching of the Gospel; but perhaps that is not so. (c) He was about to make him a bishop, and it was not fitting for him to be uncircumcised. (e) And this was no small matter, since it caused offense after so long a time: (b) “for from childhood,” he says, “you have known the Holy Scriptures.” (ib. iii. 15.) (d) “And as they went through the cities, they delivered the decrees for them to keep.” (v. 4.) For until then the Gentiles had no need to observe any such things. The beginning of the Law’s abolition was that the Gentiles did not observe these things and were no worse off, nor in any way inferior in faith; before long, they abandoned the Law of their own accord. (f) Since, then, he was about to preach, he circumcised Timothy to avoid striking the Jews a double blow. And yet he was only half (a Jew by birth), since his father was a Greek. Still, because that great point had been won for the Gentiles, he did not insist on this: the Word had to be spread. That is why he circumcised him with his own hands. “And so the churches were strengthened in the faith.” Do you see here too how going against (to his own object) brings about a great good? “And increased in number daily.” (v. 5.) Do you see that the circumcision not only did no harm but was extremely helpful? “And a vision appeared to Paul in the night.” (v. 9.) This time it was not through Angels, as with Philip and Cornelius. How, then? Now it is shown to him through a vision, in a more human way, rather than, as before (i.e., v. 6, 7), in a more divine way. For where obedience is easier, it happens in a more human way; where great force was needed, in a more divine way. Since he was simply being urged to preach, this is shown to him in a dream; but he could not readily bear to hold back from preaching, so the Holy Spirit reveals that to him. So it was with Peter then: “Get up and go down.” (ch. x. 20.) For of course the Holy Spirit did not intervene in what was otherwise easy; but (here) even a dream was enough for him. Joseph too, since he was readily moved to obey, receives the appearance in a dream, while the others receive a waking vision. (Matt. i. 20; ii. 13, 19.) So it was with Cornelius and Paul himself. “And look, a man of Macedonia,” etc., giving more than a command: he is “pleading,” and comes from the very people who need (spiritual) healing. (ch. x. 3; ix. 3.) “Concluding with certainty,” it says, “that the Lord had called us.” (v. 10), that is, drawing an inference both from the fact that Paul, and no one else, saw it, from their having been “forbidden by the Spirit,” and from their being at the borders: from all these things they drew their conclusion. “So, setting sail from Troas, we sailed straight,” etc. (v. 11.) That is, even the voyage made this clear, for there was no delay. It became the very root of Macedonia. The Holy Spirit did not always work through “sharp disagreement”; but this rapid progress (of the Word) was a sign that the affair was more than human. And yet it does not say that Barnabas was exasperated, but, “A sharp disagreement arose between them.” (v. 39.) If one was not exasperated, neither was the other. Knowing this, let us do more than pick out (ἐκλέγωμεν) these things: let us learn from them and let them teach us, for they were not written without a purpose. Ignorance of the Scriptures is a great evil: we get harm from the very things that should benefit us. So too, medicines with healing power often ruin and destroy because those who use them are ignorant; and armor meant to protect becomes a cause of death unless someone knows how to put it on. The reason is that we seek everything except what is good for ourselves. With a house, we seek what is good for it; we cannot bear to see it deteriorating with age, tottering, or damaged by storms. But we pay no attention to our soul: even if we see its foundations rotting, or its structure and roof, we pay no attention. Again, if we own animals, we seek what is good for them. We call in horse feeders, horse doctors, and everyone else who can help; we attend to their housing and instruct those entrusted with them not to drive them aimlessly or carelessly, take them out at unsuitable hours of the night, or sell off their feed. We lay down many rules for the animals’ welfare, but give no thought to our soul’s welfare. But why speak of animals that are useful to us? Many people keep small birds (or “sparrows”) that serve no purpose except to amuse them, and even for these there are many rules: nothing is neglected or left disorganized. We take care of everything before ourselves. In this way we make ourselves worth less than everything else. If someone insults us by calling us a “dog,” we are annoyed; but when we disgrace ourselves through our actions rather than our words, and do not even give our soul as much care as we give dogs, we think it does little harm. Do you see how everything is full of darkness? How many people carefully keep their dogs from eating more than the proper amount, so that hunger and starvation will spur them on and make them keen and fit for hunting! Yet they take no care to avoid indulgence themselves. They teach animals to practice philosophy while letting themselves sink into the savagery of beasts. It is a riddle. “And where are these philosophical animals of yours?” They exist. Tell me, do you not consider it philosophy when a dog, gnawed by hunger, hunts down and catches its prey, yet refrains from eating; when it sees its meal ready before it and feels hunger driving it on, yet waits for its master? Be ashamed of yourselves: teach your bellies to practice that much philosophy. You have no excuse. When you have managed to instill such philosophical self-control in an irrational nature, which neither speaks nor understands reason, will you not be much more able to instill it in yourself? It is plainly the result of human care, rather than nature, since otherwise all dogs would have this habit. Become like dogs, then. You force me to draw my examples from them. They should really be drawn from heavenly things; but if I speak of those, you say, “Those are (too) great,” so I say nothing about heavenly things. Again, if I speak of Paul, you say, “He was an Apostle,” so I do not mention Paul either. If I speak of a human being, you say, “That person could do it,” so I do not even mention a human being, but an animal. And it is an animal that does not have this habit by nature, so that you cannot say it accomplished this by nature rather than (which is the fact) by choice. What is remarkable is that this choice was not developed on its own, but was (the result of) your care. The creature gives no thought to the fatigue and strain it has endured in running down the prey, nor to the fact that it made the capture by its own hard work. It sets all these considerations aside, obeys its master’s command, and shows itself stronger than the cravings of appetite. “True, because it expects praise and a larger meal.” Then tell yourself that the dog despises present pleasure in the hope of future pleasure, while you refuse to despise present things in the hope of future good things. The dog knows that if it tastes that food at the wrong time, against its master’s will, it will lose that food and not even get its allotted portion, but will receive blows instead of food. Yet you cannot even understand this, and what it has learned through habit you fail to acquire even through reason. Let us imitate the dogs. Hawks and eagles are said to do the same: what dogs do with hares and deer, these do with birds. They too act from a philosophy learned from human beings. These facts are enough to condemn us, enough to convict us. Here is another example: people skilled in training horses take them wild and fierce, kicking and biting, and in a short time train them so well that even when the trainer is absent, riding them is a delight because their steps are so thoroughly disciplined. But the soul’s steps can be completely disordered, and no one cares. It bounds and kicks, and its rider is dragged along the ground like a child, making a thoroughly disgraceful spectacle. Yet no one puts restraints, leg ties, or bits on her, or seats the skilled rider on her—I mean Christ. That is why everything is turned upside down. When you teach dogs to master their bellies’ cravings, tame a lion’s fury and horses’ unruliness, and teach birds to speak clearly, how inconsistent it is to instill the achievements of reason in natures without reason, while introducing the passions of irrational creatures into natures endowed with reason! We have no excuse, none. Everyone who has succeeded (in mastering their passions) will accuse us, believers and unbelievers alike, for even unbelievers have succeeded in this; yes, and wild beasts and dogs too, not only human beings. And we will accuse ourselves, since we succeed when we choose, but are dragged away when we are lazy. Indeed, even many people who live very wicked lives have often changed themselves when they wanted to. But the cause, as I said, is that we go around seeking what is good for other things instead of what is good for ourselves. If you build a splendid house, you know what is good for the house, not what is good for yourself. If you acquire a beautiful garment, you know what is good for the body, not for yourself. And if you get a good horse, the same applies. No one makes it his goal to make his soul beautiful. Yet when it is beautiful, none of those things is needed; when it is not beautiful, they do no good. Think of a bride: even if the rooms are hung with tapestries worked in gold, even if there are choirs of the fairest and most beautiful women, roses and garlands, a handsome bridegroom, and attractive maidservants, female friends, and everyone around them, still, if the bride herself is thoroughly disfigured, none of those things does any good. On the other hand, if she were beautiful, she would lose nothing from (the want of) those things; quite the opposite. With an ugly bride, those things would make her look all the uglier, while in the other case the beautiful bride would look all the more beautiful. Just so, when the soul is beautiful, she not only needs none of those accessories, but they even cast a shadow over her beauty. For we will see the philosopher shine more in poverty than in wealth. In the latter case, many will attribute it to his riches that he is not above riches; but when he lives with poverty as his companion, shines through everything, and refuses to be forced into anything shameful, no one shares his claim to the crown of philosophy. Let us make our soul beautiful, then, if we really want to be rich. What good is it if your mules are white, plump, and healthy, while you, whom they pull, are thin, scabby, and ugly? What do you gain if your carpets are soft and beautiful, full of rich embroidery and craftsmanship, while your soul is dressed in rags, or even naked and filthy? What do you gain if the horse’s steps are beautifully ordered, more like dancing than walking, while the rider, with his accompanying chorus and ornaments more lavish than a bride’s, is more crooked than the lame and has no more control of his hands and feet than drunkards and madmen? Tell me: if someone gave you a beautiful horse and twisted your body out of shape, what would you gain? Now your soul is twisted out of shape, and you do not care for it? Let us finally take care of ourselves, I beg you. Let us stop making ourselves worth less than everything else. If anyone insults us with words, we are annoyed and upset; but we give no thought to the insults we inflict on ourselves through our actions. Late though it is, let us finally come to our senses, so that by taking great care of our soul and holding firmly to virtue, we may obtain eternal good things through the grace and mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, with Whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, and honor, now and forever, for all eternity. Amen.