Homilies on Acts, Homily 36

“And at midnight Paul and Silas prayed and sang praises to God, and the prisoners heard them. And suddenly there was a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the prison were shaken, and immediately all the doors opened, and everyone’s chains came loose.” What could equal these souls? These men had been flogged, had received many blows, had been mistreated, had been in danger of losing their lives, had been thrown into the inner prison and secured in the stocks. Yet despite all this, they did not let themselves sleep, but stayed awake all night. Do you see what a blessing suffering is? Yet we, in our soft beds, with no one to fear, spend the whole night asleep. But perhaps they stayed awake because of the condition they were in. Neither the tyranny of sleep could overpower them, nor the sting of pain bring them down, nor the fear of harm throw them into helpless despair. No, these were the very things that kept them awake, and they were even filled with overwhelming joy. “At midnight,” it says, “and the prisoners listened to them.” It was so strange and surprising! “And suddenly there was a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the prison were shaken, and immediately all the doors opened, and everyone’s chains came loose. And the jailer woke from his sleep, and when he saw the prison doors open, he drew his sword and was about to kill himself, supposing that the prisoners had escaped.” (v. 27.) There was an earthquake so that the jailer would wake from sleep, and the doors flew open so that he would marvel at what had happened. But the prisoners did not see these things; otherwise they would all have fled. The jailer, however, was about to kill himself, thinking the prisoners had escaped. “But Paul shouted, saying, Do not hurt yourself, for we are all here.” (v. 28.) (b) “Then he called for lights, rushed in, and came trembling and fell down before Paul and Silas. And he brought them out and said, Gentlemen, what must I do to be saved?” (v. 29, 30.) Do you see how the wonder overwhelmed him? (a) He marveled even more at Paul’s kindness; he was amazed at his courageous boldness, that he had not escaped when he could have, that he had stopped him from killing himself. (c) “And they said, Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and you and your household will be saved. And they spoke the word of the Lord to him and to everyone in his house.” (v. 31, 35) And (so) they immediately demonstrated their kindness toward him. “And he took them that same hour of the night and washed their wounds, and he and all his people were baptized immediately.” (v. 33.) He washed them and was himself baptized, he and his household. “And when he had brought them into his house, he set food before them and rejoiced, believing in God with his whole household. And when day came, the magistrates sent the officers, saying, Let those men go.” (v. 34, 35.) The magistrates had probably learned what had happened and did not dare dismiss them on their own. “And the jailer reported these words to Paul, saying, The magistrates have sent orders to release you. So now leave and go in peace. But Paul said to them, They have beaten us publicly without a conviction, even though we are Romans, and have thrown us into prison; and now are they sending us away secretly? Certainly not! Let them come themselves and lead us out. And the officers reported these words to the magistrates, and they were afraid when they heard that they were Romans. And they came and pleaded with them, led them out, and asked them to leave the city. And they left the prison and went into Lydia’s house; and when they had seen the brothers, they encouraged them and departed.” (v. 36–40.) Even after the magistrates’ announcement, Paul does not leave. For the sake of both Lydia and the others, he frightens the magistrates, so that people will not suppose the apostles were released at their own request, and so that they can give the others confidence. The accusation was twofold: they had publicly thrown them into prison even though they were “Romans” and “had not been convicted.” You see that in many matters they acted with human judgment. (Recapitulation) “And at midnight,” etc. (v. 25.) Beloved, let us compare that night with these nights of ours, with their revelry, their drunkenness and unrestrained indulgence, with their sleep that might as well be death, and their waking hours that are worse than sleep. For while some sleep without awareness or feeling, others lie awake for pitiable and miserable purposes: plotting deceit, worrying about money, working out how to take revenge on those who wrong them, brooding over their hostility, counting up the insults spoken during the day. This is how they stir up the smoldering embers of anger, doing intolerable things. Notice how Peter slept. (ch. xii. 6.) There it was wisely arranged (that he should be asleep), for the Angel came to him, and no one was to see what happened. Here, on the other hand, it was well arranged (that Paul should be awake), so that the jailer could be stopped from killing himself. “And suddenly there was a great earthquake.” (v. 26.) And why did no other miracle take place? Because this, more than any other, was enough to bring about his conversion, since he was personally in danger. For it is not so much miracles that overwhelm us as the things that bring about our own deliverance. So that the earthquake would not seem to have happened on its own, this accompanying circumstance testified to it: “the doors opened, and all their chains came loose.” And it happens at night, for the Apostles did not act for show, but for people’s salvation. “And the jailer,” etc. (v. 27.) The jailer was not a malicious man. He “threw them into the inner prison” (v. 24) because he “had received such an order,” not on his own initiative. The man was in a state of utter confusion and distress. “What must I do to be saved?” he asks. Why not before this? Paul shouted until the jailer could see for himself, stopping him before he acted by saying, “We are all here.” “And after calling for lights,” it says, “he rushed in and fell down at the feet” of the prisoner—he, the jailer—saying, “Gentlemen, what must I do to be saved?” (v. 28–30.) Why, what had they said? Notice that when he finds himself safe, he does not think everything is all right; he is overwhelmed with awe at the miraculous power. Do you see what happened in the earlier case, and what happens here? There a girl was freed from a spirit, and they threw the apostles into prison because they had freed her from the spirit. Here they only showed the doors standing open, and this opened the doors of his heart; it loosened two kinds of chains. That (prisoner) kindled the (true) light, for the light was shining in his heart. “And he rushed in and fell down before them.” He does not ask, How did this happen? What is this? Instead, he immediately says, “What must I do to be saved?” What does Paul answer? “Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and you and your household will be saved.” (v. 31.) For this, above all, wins people over: that their household should also be saved. “And they spoke the word to him and to everyone in his house. And he took them that same hour of the night and washed their wounds,” etc. (v. 32, 33). He washed them and was washed: he washed their wounds, and he himself was washed clean of his sins. He fed them and was fed. “And rejoiced,” it says, although there was nothing but words and good hopes: “having believed in God with his whole household” (v. 34). This was the sign that he had believed—that he had been freed from everything. What could be worse than a jailer, more ruthless, more savage? He welcomed them with great honor. He rejoiced because he had believed God, not because he was safe. (a) “Believe in the Lord,” said the Apostle; that is why the writer says here, “Having believed.”—(d) “So now,” it says, “leave and go in peace” (v. 36): that is, in safety, without fearing anyone. (b) “But Paul said to them” (v. 37): so that he would not seem to be receiving his freedom as someone who had been convicted and had done wrong, he says, “Having beaten us publicly without a conviction,” etc.—so that it would not be a favor on their part. (e) Besides, they also want the jailer himself to be out of danger, so that he will not be held accountable for this afterward. And they do not say, “You have beaten us who have performed miracles,” for they (the magistrates) paid no attention even to these. Instead, they say what would most effectively shake them: “without a conviction, and being Romans.” (c) Notice how differently grace arranges things: how Peter left, and how Paul left, though both were Apostles. “They were afraid,” (v. 38) it says, because the men were Romans, not because they had unjustly thrown them into prison. “And pleaded with them to leave the city” (v. 39): they begged them as a favor. And they went to Lydia’s house, strengthened her, and then departed. For it was not right to leave their hostess distressed and anxious. But they left because they were hurrying on to preach, not in response to those rulers’ request. The city had benefited enough from the miracle, and it was fitting that they should stay there no longer. For in the absence of those who had performed it, the miracle appeared greater, itself crying out more loudly; the jailer’s faith was a voice in itself. What could equal this? He is put in chains, and while chained he frees others. He loosens a twofold bond: by being bound, he frees the man who bound him. These are indeed works of (supernatural) grace. (f) Let us always keep this jailer in mind, not the miracle: how (the Apostle), a prisoner himself, persuaded his jailer. What do the pagans say? “And what teachings,” they say, “was a man like this to be persuaded to accept—a vile, miserable creature, without understanding, full of nothing but evil, and easily won over to anything? For these,” they say, “are the things that a tanner, a purple seller, a eunuch, slaves, and women believed.” This is what they say. What, then, will they be able to say when we bring forward people of rank and standing: the centurion, the proconsul, those from that time to the present, the rulers themselves, the emperors? But for my part, I am speaking of something else, greater than this: let us consider these very people of no standing. “And where is the wonder?” you ask. Why, this itself, I say, is a wonder. For if someone is persuaded about ordinary things, it is no wonder. But if the subjects are resurrection, a kingdom of heaven, and a life of philosophical self-control, and someone speaks about these things to people of low standing and persuades them, that will be more wonderful than persuading wise people. For when there is no danger attached to the things people are persuaded of, then (the objector) might plausibly claim that they lack sense. But when (the preacher) says—to the slave, as you insist on calling him—“If you are persuaded by me, you do so at your own peril. Everyone will be your enemy; you must die; you must endure countless evils,” and despite all this he convinces that man’s soul, there can be no more talk here of a lack of sense. Indeed, if the teachings contained pleasant things, one might fairly say this. But if the slave learns what the philosophers would never have chosen to learn, then the wonder is greater. And, if you like, let us bring forward the tanner himself and see what subjects Peter discussed with him; or, if you like, this same jailer. What, then, did Paul say to him? “That Christ rose again,” you say, “that there is a resurrection of the dead and a kingdom; and he had no trouble persuading him, a man easily led to anything.” How so? Did he say nothing about the way he must live: that he must be self-controlled, must rise above the love of money, must not be unmerciful, must share his good things with others? For it cannot be said that he was persuaded of these things too because he lacked mental ability. No, being brought to all this required a great soul. For suppose that, as far as the doctrines went, their lack of intelligence made them more ready to accept them. But how could accepting such a virtuous, self-denying way of life be due to a lack of understanding? So the less understanding a person has, if he is nevertheless persuaded of things that even philosophers could not persuade their fellow philosophers to accept, the greater the wonder—when women and slaves are persuaded of these truths and prove it by their actions, truths that the Platos and all the rest could never persuade anyone to accept. And why do I say “anyone”? Rather, not even themselves. On the contrary, by acquiring such an abundance of property, gold rings, and goblets, Plato persuaded (his disciples) that money should not be despised. And Socrates himself shows that the honor the public gives should not be despised, however endlessly he may philosophize on this point; for in everything he did, he had his eye on fame. If you were familiar with his discourses, I could discuss this at great length and show how much insincerity (εἰρωνείαν) there was in them—if, at least, we can believe what his disciple says of him—and how all his writings are grounded in a vain desire for glory. But leaving them aside, let us turn the discussion to ourselves. For besides what has been said, we must also add this: people were persuaded of these things at the risk of their own lives. So do not be shameless, but let us think about that night, the stocks, and the hymns of praise. Let us do this too, and we will open for ourselves—not a prison, but—heaven. If we pray, we will be able to open even heaven. Elijah both closed and opened heaven by prayer. (James v. 17, 18.) There is a prison in heaven too. “Whatever,” He says, “you bind on earth will be bound in heaven.” (Matt. xvi. 19.) Let us pray at night, and we will loosen these bonds. As proof that prayers release us from sins, let that widow convince us; let that friend convince us, who persists and knocks at that inconvenient hour of the night (Luke xi. 5). Let Cornelius convince us, for “your prayers,” it says, “and your gifts to the poor have come up before God.” (ch. x. 4.) Let Paul convince us, who says, “Now she who is truly a widow and left alone trusts in God and continues making earnest requests night and day.” (1 Tim. v. 5.) If he says this about a widow, a weak woman, how much more would he say it about men. I have spoken to you about this before, and now I repeat it: let us get up during the night. Even if you do not say many prayers, say one attentively, and that is enough; I ask no more. And if not at midnight, at least at the first light of dawn. Show that the night is for the soul as well as the body. Do not let it pass idly, but give this in return to your Master—or rather, (the benefit) itself comes back to you. Tell me, if we find ourselves in a difficult situation, whom do we not ask for help? And if our request is soon granted, we breathe freely again. What a blessing it would be for you to have a friend to whom you could bring your request, who would be ready to take it as a kindness and feel indebted to you for asking! What a blessing to find someone ready, without having to go around looking for someone to ask! To have no need of others through whom you might make your appeal! What could be greater than this? For here is One who does the most when we make our requests to Him alone, just as a sincere friend complains most that we do not trust his friendship when we ask others to appeal to him for us. Let us act this way too. “But what,” you will ask, “if I have offended Him?” Stop offending Him, weep, and then approach Him, and you will quickly win His favor concerning your past sins. Only say, I have offended; say it from your soul and with a sincere mind, and everything is forgiven you. You do not desire to have your sins forgiven as much as He desires to forgive your sins. As proof that you do not desire it as much, consider that you have no wish either to stay awake in prayer or to give your money freely. But He, to forgive our sins, did not spare His Only-begotten and True Son, who shares His throne. Do you see how much more He desires to forgive your sins (than you to be forgiven)? Then let us not be lazy or put this off any longer. He is merciful and good; only let us give Him an opportunity. And (even) this (He seeks) only so that we may not become useless, since even without this He could have freed us from them. But just as we (with the same view) plan and arrange many things for our servants to do, so He acts in the matter of our salvation. “Let us come before His face with thanksgiving.” (Ps. xcv. 2. “Let us come before His presence.” E.V.), since He is good and kind. But if you do not call on Him, what will He do? You do not choose to say, Forgive; you will not say it from your heart, but only with your mouth. What does it mean to call in truth? (To call) with heartfelt resolve, with earnestness, with a sincere mind. Just as people say of perfumes, “This is genuine and has nothing counterfeit in it,” so it is here. Whoever truly calls on Him, whoever truly prays to Him, keeps at it and does not stop until he receives (his request). But whoever does it as a mere formality (ἀφοσιούμενος), and even this only to fulfill a law, does not call in truth. Whoever you are, do not only say, “I am a sinner,” but also work earnestly to stop being one. Do not merely say this; grieve as well. If you grieve, you are earnest; if you are not earnest, you do not grieve; if you do not grieve, you are playing around. What kind of man says, “I am sick,” without doing everything he can to be freed from his sickness? Prayer is a mighty weapon. “If you,” says the Lord, “know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more your Father?” (Luke xi. 13.) Then why are you unwilling to approach Him? He loves you; He is more powerful than all others. He is both willing and able; what can stand in the way? Nothing. But for our part, let us approach with faith; let us approach, offering the gifts He desires: letting go of wrongs, kindness, gentleness. Even if you are a sinner, you can boldly ask Him to forgive your sins if you can show that you yourself have done this. But even if you are righteous, if you lack this virtue of letting go of injuries, you are no better off. It is impossible for someone who has forgiven his neighbor not to receive complete forgiveness, for God is incomparably more merciful than we are. What do you say? If you say, “I have been wronged; I have restrained my anger; I have withstood the surge of rage because of Your command, and do You not forgive?” He will certainly forgive, and this is clear to everyone. So let us cleanse our soul of all resentment. This is enough for us to be heard. And let us stay awake and pray with great perseverance, so that, having received His abundant mercy, we may be found worthy of the good things promised, through the grace and mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, with Whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, honor, now and always, for all eternity. Amen.