Go to Related Reading
About this book

Homilies on Acts, Homily 47

“But Paul said, I am a Jew from Tarsus, a city in Cilicia, a citizen of a city that is far from insignificant; and I beg you, allow me to speak to the people. And when he had given him permission, Paul stood on the stairs and motioned with his hand to the people. And when a deep silence fell, he spoke to them in the Hebrew language, saying.” Notice how, when he speaks to outsiders, he does not hesitate to use the protections the laws provide. Here he impresses the tribune with the name of his city. And again, elsewhere he said, “They have publicly thrown us into prison without being convicted, Romans that we are.” (ch. xvi. 37.) Since the tribune had said, “Are you that Egyptian?” he immediately cleared up that suspicion. Then, so that he would not be thought to deny his nation, he immediately says, “I am a Jew”: he means his religion. (b) What then? He did not deny (that he was a Christian): God forbid! For he was both a Jew and a Christian, observing what he ought to observe, since he, more than anyone, did obey the law. (a) In fact, elsewhere he calls himself “Under the law to Christ.” (1 Cor. ix. 21.) What, I ask, does this mean? (c) The person who believes in Christ. And when speaking with Peter, he says, “We, Jews by birth.—But I beg you, allow me to speak to the people.” (Gal. ii. 15.) And this proves that he is not lying, since he calls everyone as his witnesses. Notice again how gently he speaks. His readiness to defend himself and his desire to speak with the Jewish people are further powerful evidence that he is guilty of no crime. See a man well prepared (τεταγμένον ἄνδρα)!—Notice how providence arranged this: unless the tribune had come, unless he had bound him, Paul would not have wanted to speak in his own defense, and he would not have obtained the silence he did. “Standing on the stairs.” The location offered an additional advantage: he had a high place from which to address them—and in chains, too! What spectacle could compare with seeing Paul, bound with two chains, addressing the people! (To see him,) completely undisturbed, completely unconfused; to see how, facing such a great crowd, all hostile to him, with the ruler standing by, he first made them put aside their anger—and how wisely he did this! He does the same thing here that he does in his Epistle to the Hebrews: first he draws them in through the sound of their shared native language, then through his gentleness itself. “He spoke to them,” it says, “in the Hebrew language, saying, Men, brothers, and fathers, hear the defense I now make before you.” (ch. xxii. 1.) Notice his form of address, so free from flattery and so expressive of gentleness. He does not say “Masters” or “Lords,” but “Brothers,” the very word they most liked to hear. “I am no stranger to you,” he says, “nor am I against you.” “Men,” he says, “brothers, and fathers”: the latter is a term of honor, the former of kinship. “Hear,” he says, “my”—he does not say “teaching” or “speech,” but “my defense, which I now make before you.” He takes the position of someone pleading with them. “And when they heard that he was speaking to them in the Hebrew language, they became even quieter.” (v. 2.) Do you see how speaking the same language quieted them? In fact, they felt a certain awe for that language. Notice also how he prepares the way for his speech, beginning like this: “I am indeed a man who is a Jew, born in Tarsus, a city in Cilicia, but brought up in this city at the feet of Gamaliel, and instructed in the precise observance of the law of the fathers, and zealous for God, as you all are today.” (v. 3.) “I am a man,” he says, “who is a Jew”: the very thing they most liked to hear. “Born in Tarsus, a city of Cilicia.” So that they will not again think he belongs to another nation, he adds his religion: “but brought up in this city.” (p. 282, note 4.) He shows how great his zeal for worship was: he left his native city, so great and so far away, and chose to be brought up here for the Law’s sake. See how he committed himself to the law from the beginning. But he says this not only to defend himself before them, but to show that a Divine power, rather than any human intention, led him to preach the Gospel. Otherwise, with such an education, he would not have changed so suddenly. If he had been an ordinary man, that suspicion might have been reasonable. But if he was among those most bound to the law, he was unlikely to change lightly and without compelling necessity. But perhaps someone may say, “Being brought up here proves nothing. What if you came here to trade, or for some other reason?” That is why he says “at the feet of Gamaliel,” and not simply “by Gamaliel,” but “at his feet,” showing his perseverance, his diligence, his eagerness to listen, and his deep respect for the man. “Instructed in the precise observance of the law of the fathers.” Not simply “the law,” but “the law of the fathers,” showing that he had been like this from the beginning, and was not merely someone who knew the Law. All this seems to support their side, but in fact it counted against them, since he knew the law and left it. “Yes, but what if you knew the law thoroughly, yet did not defend it or even love it?” “Being a zealot,” he adds: not simply (one that knew it). Then, since he has praised himself highly, he extends the praise to them as well by adding, “As you all are today.” For he shows that they act from zeal for God, rather than from any human motive, pleasing them, winning their attention in advance, and gaining a hold on them in a way that did no harm. Then he also presents evidence, saying, “And I persecuted this way to the death, binding and handing over to prison both men and women. The high priest also bears me witness, and the whole council of elders” (v. 4, 5): “How is this evident?” He brings forward the high priest himself and the elders as witnesses. He does say, “Being a zealot, as you are” (Hom. xix. p. 123), but he shows by his actions that he went beyond them. “For I did not wait for an opportunity to seize them: I both stirred up the priests and undertook journeys. I did not confine my attacks to men, as you did; I extended them to women too”: “both binding and throwing into prison both men and women.” This testimony cannot be disputed; the (unbelief) of the Jews (is left) without excuse. See how many witnesses he brings forward: the elders, the high priest, and those in the city. Notice his defense: it is not out of cowardly fear (for himself, that he pleads), but to teach and instruct. For if his listeners had not been stones, they would have felt the force of what he was saying. Up to this point he had them themselves as witnesses; what followed, however, had no witnesses: “From them I also received letters to the brothers, and went to Damascus to bring those who were there to Jerusalem in chains to be punished. And as I traveled and came near Damascus about noon, suddenly a great light from heaven shone around me. And I fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to me, Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me? And I answered, Who are You, Lord? And He said to me, I am Jesus of Nazareth, Whom you are persecuting.” (v. 6, 7, 8.) These very things should have been considered credible because of what came before; otherwise, he would not have undergone such a complete change. “What if he is just making up a fine story?” you say. Answer me: why did he suddenly throw away all this zeal? Because he expected honor? Yet he got just the opposite. Perhaps an easy life? No, not that either. Well, something else? The mind cannot invent any other motive. So he tells the facts and leaves them to draw the conclusion for themselves. “As I came near Damascus,” he says, “about noon.” See how extraordinarily bright the light was. “What if he is just making up a fine story?” you say. Those who were with him are witnesses: they led him by the hand and saw the light. “And those who were with me did see the light and were afraid, but they did not hear the voice of Him Who spoke to me.” (v. 9.) But elsewhere he says, “Hearing the voice, but seeing no one.” (Acts ix. 7.) There is no contradiction. There were two voices, Paul’s and the Lord’s. In that passage the writer means Paul’s voice (Hom. xix. p. 124, note 2), as indeed (Paul) adds here, “The voice of Him Who spoke to me.” “Seeing no one”: he does not say that they did not see the light, but “no one,” meaning “no one speaking.” And there was good reason for this, since that voice was to be granted to him alone. For if they too had heard it, (the miracle) would not have been so great. Since people with less perceptive minds are persuaded more by sight, they saw the light and were afraid. In fact, the light did not affect them as strongly as it did him, for it even blinded his eyes. Through what happened to him, (God) also gave them an opportunity to recover their sight, if they wished. It seems to me, at least, that their not believing was providentially arranged so that they might be witnesses whose testimony could not be challenged. “And He said to me,” it says, “I am Jesus of Nazareth, Whom you are persecuting.” (comp. ch. ix. 5.) The name of the city (Nazareth) is fittingly added so that they might recognize (the Person); the Apostles also spoke this way. (ch. ii. 22; iv. 10; x. 38.) And He Himself testified that they were persecuting Him. “And those who were with me did see the light and were afraid, but they did not hear the voice of Him Who spoke to me. And I said, What shall I do, Lord? And the Lord said to me, Get up and go into Damascus, and there you will be told everything appointed for you to do. And when I could not see because of the glory of that light, those who were with me led me by the hand, and I came into Damascus. And a man named Ananias, devout according to the law and well spoken of by all the Jews who lived there, came to me, stood beside me, and said to me, Brother Saul, receive your sight. And at that very moment I looked up at him. Go into the city,” it says, “and there you will be told everything appointed for you to do.” (v. 10–13.) Look! Yet another witness. And see how he makes this man’s testimony beyond challenge too. “And a man named Ananias,” he says, “devout according to the law”—so far was this from being anything foreign!—“well spoken of by all the Jews who lived” (there). “And at that very moment I received my sight.” Then comes the testimony of the facts. Notice how the evidence is interwoven, from people and from facts; and the people include both their own and outsiders: the priests, the elders, and his fellow travelers. The facts include what he did and what was done to him, and facts, as well as people, bear witness to facts. Then Ananias, an outsider; then the fact itself, the recovery of sight; then a great prophecy. “And he said, The God of our fathers has chosen you to know His will and see That Just One.” (v. 14.) He rightly says “Of our fathers,” to show that they were not Jews, but strangers to the law, and that they were not acting from zeal (for the law). “To know His will.” His will, then, is this. See how the narrative itself teaches. “And see That Just One, and hear the voice of His mouth. For you will be His witness to all people of what you have seen and heard. And see,” he says, “that Just One.” (v. 15.) For now he says no more than this: if He is Just, they are guilty. “And hear the voice of His mouth.” See how greatly he exalts what happened! “For you will be His witness”—for this reason: because you will not betray (i.e. “prove false to”) what you have seen and heard—“both of what you have seen and of what you have heard”: through both senses he lays claim to his faithfulness—“to all people. And now why are you waiting? Get up, be baptized, and wash away your sins, calling on His name.” (v. 16.) Here he has said something momentous. For he did not say, “Be baptized in His name,” but “calling on the name of Christ.” This shows that He is God, since it is not lawful to “call upon” anyone except God. Then he also shows that he himself was not forced: for “I said,” he tells us, “What must I do?” Nothing is (left) without a witness. Indeed, he brings forward the testimony of a whole city, since they had seen him being led by the hand. But see how the prophecy was fulfilled. “To all people,” it says. For he did become a witness to Him, and a witness of the kind he ought to be, through what he suffered, what he did, and what he said. We too ought to be witnesses like this and not betray what has been entrusted to us. I mean not only doctrines, but also our way of life. For notice: because he had seen, because he had heard, he bears witness to all people, and nothing stopped him. We too bear witness (Mod. text “have heard”) that there is a Resurrection and countless good things; we are bound to bear witness to this before all people. “Yes, and we do bear witness,” you will say, “and we do believe.” How, when you act in the opposite way? Tell me: if someone called himself a Christian and then, after abandoning the faith, sided with the Jews, would this testimony be enough? Certainly not, for people would want the testimony given by his actions. In the same way, if we say there is a Resurrection and countless good things, and then despise those things and prefer the things here, who will believe us? Everyone looks at what we do, not what we say. “You will be a witness,” it says, “to all people”: not only to the friendly, but also to unbelievers. That is what witnesses are for: to persuade those who do not know, rather than those who do. Let us be trustworthy witnesses. But how will we be trustworthy? Through the life we lead. The Jews attacked him; our passions attack us, telling us to renounce our testimony. But let us not obey them: we are witnesses from God. (Christ) is put on trial on the charge that He is not God; He has sent us to bear witness to Him. Let us bear witness and persuade those who must decide the case. If we do not bear witness, we must answer for their error too. But if, in a court of law dealing with worldly matters, no one would accept a witness full of countless vices, how much less would anyone accept one here, where the matters at issue are of such a kind (and so great)! We say that we have heard Christ and believe what He has promised. “Show it,” they say, “by your deeds, for your life testifies to the opposite—that you do not believe.” Tell me, should we look at the people intent on making money, the plunderers, the greedy? The people who mourn and wail, who build and keep themselves busy with all sorts of things as though they would never die? “You do not believe that you will die, something so plain and evident; how, then, are we to believe you when you bear witness?” For there are, there are many people whose state of mind is just as if they were never going to die. When they begin building and planting far into old age, when will they take death into account? We will face a severe punishment for having been called to bear witness yet failing to testify to what we have seen. We have seen Angels with our eyes, yes, more clearly than those who have (visibly) seen them. We will be (Mod. text “Then let us be”) witnesses to Christ, for “martyrs” (or witnesses, whom we so call) include not only those usually given that name, but us too. This is why they are called martyrs: when ordered to renounce (the faith), they endure everything so that they may speak the truth. And when our passions order us to renounce it, let us not be overcome. Gold says, “Say that Christ is not Christ.” Then do not listen to it as though it were God; despise its commands. Evil desires “profess that they know God, but in their deeds they deny Him.” (Tit. i. 16.) For this is the opposite of bearing witness. It is no wonder that others deny (Him), but for us, who have been called to bear witness, to deny Him is terrible and grievous. This does more harm to our cause than anything else. “It will serve as a testimony for (your)selves,” He says (Luke xxi. 13); but (this is) when we ourselves stand firm. If we all bore witness to Christ, we would quickly persuade most of the pagans. My beloved, the life a person leads matters greatly. Let someone be as savage as a beast, let him openly condemn you because of your doctrine, yet he secretly approves, yet he will praise, yet he will admire. For tell me, where can an excellent life come from? From no source except a Divine Power working in us. “What if there are pagans of this character too?” If any of them anywhere are like this, it comes partly from nature and partly from a desire for empty praise. Do you want to learn how brightly a good life shines, how powerfully it persuades? Many heretics have won people over in this way. Although their doctrines are corrupt, most people, out of respect for their (virtuous) life, did not go on to examine their doctrine. And many, even while condemning them for their doctrine, respect them for their life. This is not right, certainly, but that is still how they feel (towards them). This has brought slander on the awe-inspiring articles of our creed; this has turned everything upside down: no one pays any attention to living well. This harms the faith. We say that Christ is God; we offer countless other arguments, and among them this one: that He has persuaded all people to live rightly. Yet this is true of only a few. An evil life harms the doctrine of the Resurrection, of the soul’s immortality, and of the Judgment. It also brings many other (false doctrines) along with it: fate, necessity, and denial of a Providence. For the soul, immersed in countless vices, tries to invent these ideas to comfort itself, so that it will not suffer from reflecting that there is a Judgment and that virtue and vice lie within our own power. (Such a) life produces countless evils. It makes people beasts, and more irrational than beasts, for it has often gathered into one person the traits found separately in each kind of beast, and turned everything upside down. This is why the devil introduced the doctrine of Fate; this is why he said that the world is without a Providence (Hom. ii. p. 15); this is why he puts forward his theory of good natures and evil natures, and his theory that evil is (uncreated and) without beginning, and material (in its essence). And, in short, he puts forward all the rest of it to ruin our life. For someone who lives this way cannot either free himself from corrupt doctrines or remain sound in the faith; he must inevitably accept all this. For my part, I do not think it would be easy to find anyone among those who do not live rightly who does not hold countless satanic notions—for example, that there is a fate determined at birth (or birth-fate) (γένεσις), that things happen at random, that everything is haphazard and a jumble of chance. So I beg you, let us take care to live well, so that we do not accept evil doctrines. Cain’s punishment was to be (ever) groaning and trembling. (Gen. iv. 14.) This is what the wicked are like. Conscious of countless evil things within themselves, they often start awake from sleep; their thoughts are full of turmoil, their eyes full of alarm. Everything fills them with misgivings, everything frightens them; their soul is full of dreadful expectation and cowardly apprehension, shriveled by helpless fear and trembling. Nothing can be more effeminate than such a soul, nothing more empty. Like people out of their minds, it cannot collect itself. It would be good for it to be able to recognize its own nobility while enjoying peace and quiet. But when everything terrifies and disturbs it—dreams, words, gestures, and forebodings, all alike—when will it be able to look within itself, so troubled and bewildered? Let us therefore remove its fear; let us break its bonds apart. For even if there were no other punishment, what punishment could be worse than this: to live always in fear, never to have confidence, never to be at ease? Therefore, knowing these things for certain, let us keep ourselves calm and take care to practice virtue, so that, maintaining both sound doctrines and an upright life, we may pass through this present life without stumbling and be able to receive the good things God has promised to those who love Him, through the grace and mercy of His only-begotten Son, with Whom to the Father and the Holy Spirit together be glory, might, and honor, now and always, forever and ever. Amen.

Homily 48

Connections in Homilies on Acts, Homily 47

0 connections

No connections in this book yet.

Glossary

Search the Library