Homilies on Acts, Homily 38

“Now while Paul waited for them at Athens, his spirit was stirred within him when he saw the city completely given over to idolatry. So he debated in the synagogue with the Jews and the devout people, and in the marketplace every day with those he met.” Notice how he faces greater trials among the Jews than among the Gentiles. In Athens, for example, he experiences nothing of this kind; it goes as far as ridicule, and that is the end of it. And yet he did make some converts, whereas among the Jews he faced many dangers, so much greater was their hostility toward him.—“His spirit,” it says, “was stirred within him when he saw the city full of idols.” Nowhere else could so many objects of worship be seen. But again, “he debated with the Jews in the synagogue, and in the marketplace every day with those he met. Then some of the Stoic and Epicurean philosophers encountered him.” (v. 18.) It is a wonder that the philosophers did not mock him, speaking as he did. “And some said, What does this babbler mean to say?” They said this insolently, right away:—this is far from philosophy. “Others said, He seems to be a proclaimer of foreign gods,” judging from his preaching, because he had no arrogance. They did not understand or grasp the subjects he was speaking about—how could they, when some of them maintained that God is a body, and others that pleasure is (true) happiness? “Of foreign gods, because he preached to them Jesus and the Resurrection.” In fact, they supposed that “Anastasis” (the Resurrection) was some deity, since they were accustomed to worshiping female divinities too. “And they took him and brought him to the Areopagus” (v. 19)—to learn, rather than to punish him—“to the Areopagus,” where murder trials were held. Notice, then, how they ask him in the hope of learning, saying, “May we know what this new teaching you speak of is? For you bring certain strange matters to our ears” (v. 20): everywhere the charge is novelty. “So we would like to know what these things mean.” That city of theirs was a city of talkers. “For all the Athenians and the foreigners who were there spent their time doing nothing but telling or hearing something new. Then Paul stood in the middle of Mars Hill and said, Men of Athens, I consider you in every way” (v. 21, 22)—he presents this as praise: (the word) does not seem to mean anything offensive—δεισιδαιμονεστέρους, that is, εὐλαβεστέρους, “more religiously inclined. For as I passed by and looked at your objects of worship, I found an altar with this inscription, To an Unknown God. So what you worship without knowing, this I proclaim to you.” (v. 23.)—“On which was inscribed, To an Unknown God.” The Athenians had often received gods from foreign lands as well—for instance, the temple of Minerva, Pan, and others from different countries. They were afraid there might be some other god, still unknown to them but worshiped elsewhere, so, to make doubly sure, they put up an altar to that god too. And since the god was unknown, it was inscribed, “To an Unknown God.” This God, then, he tells them, is Christ; or rather, the God of all. “Him I proclaim to you.” Notice how he shows that they had already received Him, and says, “I am introducing nothing strange, nothing new to you.” All along, this was what they had been saying: “What is this new teaching you speak of? For you bring certain strange matters to our ears.” So he immediately clears up this suspicion of theirs, and then says, “God, who made the world and everything in it, being Lord of heaven and earth”—for, so that they will not imagine Him to be one of many, he immediately corrects them on this point, adding, “does not dwell in temples made by human hands” (v. 24), “nor is He worshiped by human hands, as though He needed anything.” Do you notice how, little by little, he introduces philosophy? How he ridicules pagan error? “Since He Himself gives everyone life and breath and all things, and has made from one blood every nation of humanity to dwell over the whole face of the earth.” This belongs to God alone. Consider, then, whether these things can also be said of the Son. “Being Lord,” he says, “of heaven and earth”—which they regarded as God's. He declares both creation and humanity to be His work. “Having determined,” he says, “the times assigned to them and the boundaries of where they live,” (v. 25, 26), “so that they should seek the Lord, if perhaps they might feel their way toward Him and find Him, though He is not far from any one of us: for in Him we live and move and have our being, as some of your own poets have also said, For we too are His offspring.” (v. 27, 28.) The poet Aratus says this. Notice how he draws his arguments from their own actions and their own sayings. “Since, then, we are God's offspring, we ought not to think that the Godhead is like gold or silver or stone, carved by art.” (v. 29.) And yet for this reason we ought to. Certainly not: for surely we are not similar (to such), nor are these souls of ours. “And human imagination.” How so? * * But someone might say, “We do not think this.” Yet he was addressing ordinary people, not dealing with philosophy now. How, then, did they think so unworthily of Him? Again, attributing it to their ignorance, he says, “Now God overlooked the times of ignorance.” After shaking their minds with fear, he adds this; and yet he says, “but now He commands everyone everywhere to repent.” (v. 30.) “Because He has appointed a day when He will judge the world in righteousness through that man whom He has appointed; He has given assurance of this to everyone by raising Him from the dead.” (v. 31.) But let us go back over what has been said. (Recapitulation.) (b) “And while Paul waited,” etc. (v. 16.) Providence arranges for him to stay there against his will, waiting for the others. (a) “His spirit,” it says, “within him” παρωξύνετο. Here it does not mean anger or exasperation, just as elsewhere it says, “There was παροξυσμὸς between them.” (ch. xv. 30.) (c) Then what does παρωξύνετο mean? He was stirred: for the gift has nothing to do with anger and exasperation. He could not bear it, but was wasting away. “So he reasoned in the synagogue,” etc. (v. 17.) Notice him reasoning with Jews again. By “devout people” he means the proselytes. For the Jews were scattered everywhere before (mod. text “since”) Christ's coming. The Law was by then, so to speak, breaking down, but at the same time (the dispersed Jews) were teaching people religion. Yet those Jews accomplished nothing, except to gain witnesses to their own calamities. (e) “And certain philosophers,” etc. (v. 18.) How did they come to be willing to talk with him? (They did it) when they saw others reasoning with him and the man gaining a reputation (in the encounter). And notice their overbearing insolence right away: “Some said, What does this babbler want to say? For the natural man does not receive the things of the Spirit.” (1 Cor. ii. 14.) Others said, He seems to be a proclaimer of foreign deities: δαιμονίων, for that is what they called their gods. “And they took him and brought him,” etc. (v. 19.) (a) The Athenians no longer lived under their own laws, but had become subject to the Romans. (g) (Then) why did they drag him to the Areopagus? They meant to intimidate him—(the place) where they held trials for bloodshed. “May we know what this new teaching you speak of is? For you bring certain strange things to our ears, so we would like to know what these things mean. For all the Athenians and the foreigners who were there spent their time doing nothing but telling or hearing something new.” (v. 20, 21.) The point here is that, although they were always occupied with nothing but telling and hearing, they still thought these things strange—things they had never heard. “Then Paul stood in the middle of the Areopagus and said, Men of Athens, I consider you in every way more religiously inclined” (v. 22): (f) for the cities were full of gods (δαιμόνων, al. εἰδώλων): (h) this is why he says δεισιδαιμονεστέρους. For as I passed by and looked at your objects of worship—he does not simply say τοὺς δαίμονας (the demons, or deities), but prepares the way for his speech: “I saw an altar,” etc. (v. 23.) This is why he says, “I consider you more religiously inclined,” namely, because of the altar. “God,” he says, “who made the world.” (v. 24.) With one word he has overturned all the (doctrines) of the philosophers. For the Epicureans maintain that everything was formed by chance and (by concourse) of atoms, while the Stoics held that it was body and fire (ἐκπύρωσιν). “The world and everything in it.” Do you notice how concise he is, and how clear even while being concise? Notice what they found strange: that God made the world! Things that even the most ordinary people now know were unknown to the Athenians and their wise men. “Since He is Lord of heaven and earth”: for if He made them, clearly He is Lord. Notice what he declares to be the mark of Deity—creation. The Son also has this attribute. For the Prophets everywhere affirm that creating is God's prerogative. It is not as those people claim, that another is Maker but not Lord, assuming that matter is uncreated. Here he implicitly states and establishes his own teaching while overthrowing theirs. “Does not dwell in temples made by human hands.” For He does indeed dwell in temples, but in the human soul, rather than temples like these. He overthrows bodily worship. What then? Did He not dwell in the temple at Jerusalem? Certainly not: but He acted there. “Nor is He worshiped by human hands.” (v. 25.) How, then, was He worshiped by human hands among the Jews? By the understanding, rather than by hands. “As though He needed anything”: for He did not seek even those (acts of worship) in this way, “as having need. Shall I eat,” He says, “the flesh of bulls, or drink the blood of goats?” (Ps. l. 13.) Nor is what he has affirmed—that He needs nothing—enough: for although this is Divine, a further attribute must be added. “Since He Himself gives everyone life and breath and all things.” Two proofs of Godhead: that He Himself needs nothing, and that He supplies everything to everyone. Bring forward Plato here, (and) everything he has said philosophically about God, and everything Epicurus has said: it is all trivial beside this! “Gives,” he says, “life and breath.” See, he makes Him the Creator of the soul too, not its begetter. See again how he overthrows the doctrine about matter. “And made,” he says, “from one blood every nation of humanity to dwell over the whole face of the earth.” (v. 26.) These points are better than the earlier ones. And what an indictment of both atoms and matter: that (creation) is not partial (work), nor is the human soul. But what those people describe does not amount to being the Creator.—But He is worshiped through the mind and understanding.—“He Himself gives,” etc. He, rather than the deities with limited domains (μερικοὶ δαίμονες). “And all things.” It is “He,” he says.—How humanity too came into being.—First he showed that “He does not dwell,” etc., and then declared that He “is not worshiped as though He needed anything.” If He is God, He made everything; but if He did not make it, He is not God. Let the gods that did not make heaven and earth perish. He introduces much greater doctrines, though he has not yet mentioned the great doctrines; instead, he spoke to them as to children. And these were much greater than those. Creation, Lordship, needing nothing, being the source of all good—these he has declared. But how is He worshiped? Tell us. It is not yet the right time. What can equal such grandeur? This too is marvelous: to have made so many from one. But also, after making them, He Himself sustains them (συγκρατεἵ) in existence, “giving life and breath and all things. (b) And has determined the appointed times and the boundaries of where they live, so that they should seek God, if perhaps they might feel their way toward Him and find Him.” (v. 27.) (a) It means either that He did not compel them to travel around seeking God, but to seek within the boundaries of where they lived; (c) or that He determined that they should seek God, yet did not determine that this should happen continually, but at certain appointed times. He now shows that they had found Him without seeking: for since they had sought and had not found, he shows that God was now as clearly present as if He were there among them, within their touch (ψηλαφώμενος). (e) “Though He is not far,” he says, “from any one of us,” but is near to all. See again the power (or, “what it is to be God,”) of God. What does he say? He not only gave “life and breath and all things,” but, to bring it all together, He brought us to know Himself, giving us these things through which we can find and grasp Him. But we did not want to find Him, although He was close at hand. “Though He is not far from any one of us.” Just look: He is near to all, to every single person throughout the world! What could be greater than this? See how completely he clears away the deities with limited domains (τοὺς μερικούς)! Why do I speak of being “far away”? He is so near that we cannot live without Him: “for in Him we live and move and have our being.” (v. 28.) “In him”; to use a physical comparison, just as it is impossible to be unaware of the air spread all around us, which is “not far from any one of us”—or rather, is within us. (d) For it was not as though there was a heaven in one place and none in another, or (a heaven) at one time and none at another. So at every “time” and within every “boundary,” it was possible to find Him. He arranged things so that neither place nor time kept people from finding Him. For surely this alone, if nothing else, helped them: that heaven is everywhere and exists at all times. (f) See how (he declares) His Providence and His sustaining power (συγκράτησιν): all things have their existence from Him, (from Him) their activity (τὸ ἐνεργεἵν), (from Him their preservation) so that they do not perish. And he does not say, “Through Him,” but something closer than this, “In him.”—That poet said nothing to equal this: “For we are His offspring.” He, however, said it of Jupiter, while Paul applies it to the Creator. He does not mean the same being as the poet—God forbid!—but means what can properly be said of God, just as he referred the altar to Him, rather than to the being they worshiped. It is as if he were saying, “Certain things are said and done with reference to this (true God), but you do not know that they refer to Him.” For tell me, to whom would the words “To an Unknown God” properly apply? To the Creator or to the demon? Clearly to the Creator, because they did not know Him, but they did know the other. Again, all things are filled (with the presence)—of God? Or of Jupiter, a wretch of a man, a detestable impostor! But Paul did not say it in the same sense as the poet—God forbid!—but with an entirely different meaning. For he says that we are God's offspring, that is, God's own, His nearest neighbors, as it were. For when he says, “Being God's offspring” (v. 29), he brings forward the poet so that they will not say again, You bring certain strange things to our ears. He does not say, “You ought not to think the Godhead is like gold or silver,” you accursed and loathsome people. Instead, he says more humbly, “We ought not.” For what does he say? That God is above this? No, he does not say that either, but for now only this: “We ought not to think the Godhead is like such things,” for nothing is so unlike human beings. “But we do not claim that the Godhead is like this. Who would say that?” Notice how he has introduced the incorporeal (nature of God) by saying, “In Him,” etc.; for when the mind conceives of a body, it also implies the idea of distance. (Speaking) to the masses, he says, “We ought not to think the Godhead is like gold or silver or stone, shaped by art”; for if we are not like those things as far as the soul is concerned, God is even less so (is not like to such). This is how far he draws them away from that idea. But neither, he means to say, is the Godhead subject to any other human conception. For if what art or thought has discovered—this is why he puts it this way, “of art or human imagination”—if, then, what human art or thought has discovered is God, then God's essence is even in the stone.—How is it, then, that if “in Him we live,” we do not find Him? The charge is twofold: both that they did not find Him, and that they found things like these. The (human) understanding cannot be relied on at all by itself.—But after shaking their souls by showing that they have no excuse, see what he says: “God overlooked the times of ignorance, but now commands everyone everywhere to repent.” (v. 30.) What then? Will none of these people be punished? None who are willing to repent. He says this about these people, not about those who have died, but about those He commands to repent. He does not call you to account, he means to say. He does not say, Took no notice (παρεἵδεν); he does not say, Permitted; instead, You were ignorant. “Overlooked,” that is, He does not demand punishment as He would for people who deserve punishment. You were ignorant. And he does not say, You deliberately did evil; but he showed this by what he said earlier.—“Everyone everywhere to repent”: again he points to the whole world. Notice how he draws them away from the deities with limited domains! “Because He has appointed a day when He will judge the world in righteousness through that Man whom He has appointed; He has given assurance of this to everyone by raising Him from the dead.” (v. 31.) Notice how he again declares the Passion. Notice the terror again: for the reality of the judgment is clear from His being raised up, since this is offered as proof of it. That everything he has been saying is true is clear from the fact that He rose again. For He did give everyone this “assurance”: His rising from the dead. This (i.e. judgment), too, is now certain. These words were indeed spoken to the Athenians, but it would be timely to say to us as well “that everyone everywhere must repent, because He has appointed a day when He will judge the world.” See how he presents Him as Judge too: Him who provides for the world, who is merciful and forgiving and powerful and wise, and, in a word, possesses all the attributes of a Creator. “Having given assurance to everyone,” that is, He has given proof through the rising (of Jesus) from the dead. Let us repent, then, for we will certainly be judged. If Christ did not rise, we will not be judged; but if He rose, we will undoubtedly be judged. “For this purpose,” it says, “He also died, so that He might be Lord of both the dead and the living.” (Rom. xiv. 9.) “For we will all stand before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each may receive according to what he has done.” (Rom. xiv. 10, and 2 Cor. v. 10.) Do not imagine that these are mere words. Look! He has also introduced the subject of the resurrection of all humanity, for there is no other way the world can be judged. And the words “By raising Him from the dead” refer to the body, for that was what died, what had fallen. Among the Greeks, their ideas about Judgment, like their ideas about Creation, are children's fantasies, drunken men's ravings. But let us, who know these things accurately, do something useful: let us become God's friends. How long will we be His enemies? How long will we harbor dislike for Him? “God forbid!” you will say. “Why do you say such things?” I would prefer not to say these things if you did not do the things you do. But as things stand, what use is silence in words when the plain evidence of deeds cries out so loudly? How, then, how will we love Him? I have told you thousands of ways, thousands of times, but I will say it now too. I think I have discovered one way, a very great and admirable way. After acknowledging to Him what we all owe Him—what no one will be able to express—let us also reflect on what He has done for each of us personally, for these things have great power. Let each of us count them up privately and search carefully, keeping a record of God's benefits as though written in a book. For instance, if at any time you fell into danger and escaped your enemies' hands; if you ever went on a journey at a bad time and escaped danger; if you ever encountered wicked people and overcame them; or if you ever fell sick and recovered after everyone had given up hope for you: remembering these things does a great deal to bind us to God. For if Mordecai, when the services he had performed were brought to the king's attention, found them so effective that in return he rose to such splendid heights (Esther vi. 2–11), much more will we, if we remember and carefully examine these two things—what sins we have committed against God and what good He has done us—both be thankful and freely give Him everything we have. But no one gives any of these things a thought. Just as we say we are sinners without examining our sins individually, so we say that God has done us good without examining specifically where, how often, and when. But from now on let us keep a very exact account. For if anyone can remember even things that happened long ago, let him count them all up carefully, as someone about to discover a great treasure. This also helps keep us from despair. For when we see that He has often protected us, we will not despair or suppose that we have been abandoned. Instead, we will take it as a strong pledge of His care for us when we remember that, although we have sinned, we are not punished but even enjoy His protection. Let me now tell you about a case I heard from someone. It involved a child who once happened to be in the country with his mother, when he was not yet fifteen years old. Just then some unhealthy air came through, and both of them caught a fever, for it was autumn. The mother managed to get into town before (they could stop her), but the boy, when the local physicians ordered him to gargle his throat while the fever burned within him, resisted. He had his own supposedly wise view of the matter, thinking he would be better able to quench the fire if he took nothing at all. So, with a boy's ill-timed stubbornness, he would take nothing. But when he came into town, his tongue was paralyzed, and he was speechless for a long time, unable to pronounce anything clearly. He could read, however, and studied with teachers for a long time, but that was all, and there was nothing to show his progress. So all his hopes (in life) were cut off, and his mother was filled with grief. Although the physicians suggested many treatments, and many others did too, no one could do him any good, until the merciful God loosened the cord of his tongue (cf. Mark vii. 35). Then he recovered and regained his former ease and clarity of speech. His mother also related that, when he was a very small child, he had a condition in his nose that they call a polyp. Then too the physicians had given up hope for him, and his father cursed him (for the father was then living), and (even) his mother prayed for him to die. Everything was filled with distress. But suddenly he coughed because of the accumulated mucus, and the force of his breath expelled the creature (τὸ θηρίον) from his nostrils, removing all the danger. But once this trouble had ended, an acrid, sticky discharge from his eyes formed such a thick accumulation of secretions (τὰς λήμας) that it was like a skin stretched over the pupil. Worse still, it threatened blindness, and everyone said that this would be the outcome. But he was quickly freed from this disease too by God's grace. So far I have told you what I heard from others; now I will tell you what I know myself. Once, suspicion of would-be tyrants arose in our city—I was only a youth at the time—and all the soldiers were stationed outside the city keeping watch, while a strict search was being made for books of sorcery and magic. The person who had written the book had thrown it unbound (ἀκατασκέυαστον) into the river. He was arrested, and when asked for it, could not produce it, but was taken around the whole city in chains. After the evidence had established his guilt and he had been punished, I happened to be going to the Martyrs' Church, returning through the gardens along the river with another person. He saw the book floating on the water and at first thought it was a linen cloth. But when he came closer, he realized it was a book, so he went down and picked it up. I claimed a share of the loot and laughed about it. “But let's see,” he said, “what in the world it is.” So he turned back part of the page and found that the contents were magic. At that very moment a soldier happened to pass by: * * * then, having taken from within, he went away. There we stood, frozen with fear. For who would have believed our story that we had picked it up from the river, when everyone at that time, even those above suspicion, was under close watch? And we did not dare throw it away for fear of being seen, while tearing it to pieces posed the same danger. God gave us a way, and we threw it away. At last, for that time, we were free of the extreme danger. I could mention countless cases if I wanted to recount them all. I have mentioned even these for your sake, so that anyone who has other cases, even if they are not like these, may keep them constantly in mind. For example, if a stone was ever thrown and was about to hit you but missed, always keep that in mind: these things produce great affection for God in us. For if, when we remember people who have helped save us, we are deeply distressed if we cannot repay them, we should feel this even more strongly (should we feel thus) toward God. This is useful in other ways too. When we want to keep from grieving too much, let us say, “If we have received good things from the Lord's hand, shouldn't we endure evil things?” (Job ii. 10.) And when Paul told them what he had been delivered from, (2 Tim. iv. 17) he did so to remind them too. See also how Jacob kept all these things in mind, which is why he said, “The Angel who redeemed me from my youth onward” (Gen. xlviii. 16); and not only that He redeemed him, but how and for what purpose. See, then, how he also remembers the particular benefits he had received. “With my staff,” he says, “I crossed the Jordan.” (Gen. xxxii. 10.) The Jews too always remembered what had happened to their ancestors, turning over in their minds the things done in Egypt. Much more, then, let us remember the particular mercies we too have experienced: how often we have fallen into dangers and calamities and would have perished long ago unless God had held His hand over us. I say, let us all consider these things and recount them day by day, joining together to give thanks to God. Let us never stop glorifying Him, so that we may receive a great reward for our thankful hearts, through the grace and compassion of His only-begotten Son, with Whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, honor, now and always, forever and ever. Amen.