Homilies on Acts, Homily 8

“Now Peter and John went up together into the temple, at the hour of prayer, being the ninth hour.” Everywhere we find these two Apostles in close harmony with each other. “To him Simon Peter beckoned.” (John xiii. 24.) These two also “came together to the tomb.” (Ib. xx. 3 et seq.) And about John, Peter said to Christ, “And what shall this man do?” (Ib. xxi. 21.) The writer of this book leaves out the other miracles, but he does mention the miracle that stirred everyone up. Notice again that they do not go to them on purpose. They were that free of ambition, and they imitated their Master that closely. Now why did they go up to the temple? Were they still living as Jews? No, they went for expediency (χρησίμως). Again a miraculous sign takes place, one that both confirms the converts and wins over the rest, and what a sign they had performed! The disease was in the man’s very nature, and medical skill could do nothing for it. He had been lame for forty years (Acts 4:22), as the writer says later, and in all that time no one had cured him. And the most stubborn diseases are the ones people are born with. It was a great misfortune, so great that he could not even provide himself with the food he needed. The man was conspicuous both because of where he was and because of his affliction. Listen to how the story is told. “And a certain man, lame from his mother’s womb, was carried, whom they laid daily at the gate of the temple which is called Beautiful, to ask alms of them that entered into the temple.” (v. 2.) He was trying to get alms, and he did not know who these men were. “Who seeing Peter and John about to go into the temple, asked an alms. And Peter, fastening his eyes upon him, with John, said, Look on us.” (v. 3, 4.) Even so, the man’s thoughts did not rise any higher, and he kept on begging. Poverty is like that: even when people are refused, it forces them to keep at it. This should shame those of us who slack off in our prayers. But notice, please, how gentle Peter is, for he said, “Look on us.” Their bearing alone so clearly revealed their character. “And he gave heed to them, expecting to receive something of them. Then Peter said, Silver and gold have I none; but such as I have I give you.” (v. 5, 6.) He did not say, “I am giving you something much better than silver or gold.” What did he say? “In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk. And he took him by the right hand, and lifted him up.” (v. 7.) This was also Christ’s way. Often He healed by a word, often by an action, and often He also stretched out His hand, when people were somewhat weak in faith, so that the cure would not seem to have happened on its own. “And he took him by the right hand, and lifted him up.” This act revealed the Resurrection, for it was an image of the Resurrection. “And immediately his feet and ankle bones received strength. And he leaping up stood, and walked.” (v. 8.) Perhaps he was testing himself, putting it to further proof like this, to see whether what had been done might turn out to be for nothing. His feet were weak; it was not that he had lost them. Some say that he did not even know how to walk. “And entered with them into the temple.” It truly was marvelous. The Apostles do not press him; he follows them of his own accord, and by following them he points out his benefactors. “And leaping and praising God”: not admiring them, but God who worked through them. The man was grateful. [“Now Peter and John went up together into the temple,” etc.] You see how they kept on praying. “The ninth hour”: they prayed together there. [“And a certain man,” etc.] The man was being carried at that very moment. [“Whom they laid daily:”] (his bearers carried him away:) [“at the gate,” etc.] right when people were going into the temple. And so that you do not think they were carrying him there for some other purpose, rather than so that he could receive alms, listen to what the writer says: “so that he might receive alms of those entering into the temple.” (Recapitulation of vv. 1–8.) And this is why he also mentions the places, to provide evidence for what he is reporting. “And how was it,” you may ask, “that they did not bring him to Christ?” Perhaps they were some unbelievers who hung around the temple, since in fact they did not bring him to the Apostles either when they saw them going in, even after the Apostles had done such great miracles. “He asked,” it says, “to receive an alms.” (v. 3.) Their bearing marked them as devout and righteous men. [“And Peter fastening his eyes upon him, with John, said,” etc.] (v. 4, 5.) And notice how John is silent everywhere, while Peter makes the excuse for him too: “Silver and gold,” he says, “have I none.” (v. 6.) He does not say, “I don’t have any on me,” the way we usually put it, but simply, “I have none.” “Well then,” the man might say, “are you ignoring me, when I am begging you?” Not at all, but take what I do have. Do you see how unpretentious Peter is, how he makes no show even before the person he is helping? [“In the name,” etc. “And he took him by the hand,” etc.] (v. 7.) And the mouth and the hand did everything. That is what the Jews were like: lame, and when the right thing was to ask for health, these same people ask for money, groveling on the ground; this was why they crowded around the temple—to get money. So what does Peter do? He did not look down on him; he did not look around for some rich person to work on; he did not say, “If the miracle is not done for some great person (εἰς ἐκεἵνον), nothing great is accomplished.” He did not look for any honor from him, and he did not even heal him in front of people, for the man was at the entrance, not where the crowd was, that is, inside. Peter was not after anything like that, and when he went in he did not announce what had happened. No, it was his bearing that drew the lame man to ask. And the remarkable thing is that the man believed so readily. For people who are freed from long-standing diseases can hardly believe their own eyes. Once he is healed, he stays with the Apostles, giving thanks to God. “And he entered,” it says, “with them into the temple, walking, and leaping, and praising God.” (v. 8.) See how he cannot keep still in the eagerness of his joy, and at the same time he shuts the mouths of the Jews. Also, his leaping served to head off any suspicion of pretense, since this, after all, was beyond the possibility of deception. For if before he was completely unable to walk, even when hunger was pressing him hard (and surely he would not have chosen to share what he got by begging with the men who carried him, if he had been able to manage on his own), this is even more true in the present case. And why would he have faked it on behalf of men who had given him no alms? But the man was grateful, even after his recovery. And so his faith is shown both ways: by his thankfulness, and by what had just happened. He was so well known to everyone that “they recognized him. And all the people,” it says, “saw him walking and praising God; and they recognized (ἐπεγίνωσκον) that it was he which sat for alms at the Beautiful gate of the temple.” (v. 9.) “They recognized” is well put, since because of what had happened he had now become someone unfamiliar; for we use this word for things we have difficulty recognizing. [“And they were filled with wonder and amazement at that which had happened unto him.”] Surely it must be believed that the name of Christ forgives sins, since it produces even effects like this. “And as he held Peter and John, all the people came together at the porch that is called Solomon’s, greatly wondering.” (v. 11.) Out of his good feeling and love for the Apostles, the lame man would not leave them; perhaps he was thanking them openly and praising them. “And all the people,” it says, “ran together to them. And when Peter saw them, he answered.” (v. 12.) Again it is he who takes action and addresses the people. In the earlier case, it was the matter of the tongues that roused them to listen; now it was this miracle. Then he took his occasion to speak from their accusations; now, from what they supposed. So let us consider how this speech differs from the earlier one, and how it agrees with it. The earlier one was given in a house, before anyone had come over, and before they themselves had done anything; this one, when everyone is amazed and the healed man is standing right there, when no one doubts, unlike the other occasion when some said, “These men are full of new wine.” (Acts 2:13.) At the first, all the Apostles were around him as he spoke; but at this one he has only John, for by now he is bold and has become more energetic. That is the nature of virtue: once it gets started, it moves forward and never stops. Notice also how it was divinely arranged for the miracle to take place in the temple, so that others too might grow bold, while the Apostles were not working in holes (εἰς καταδύσεις) and corners and in secret—though not in the inner part of the temple either, where most people were. How then, I ask you, did people come to believe it? The healed man himself announced the benefit he had received. For he had no reason to lie, nor any reason to have gone over to a different group of people. So either he worked the miracle there because the place was spacious, or because the spot was out of the way. And look at how things turned out. They went up for one purpose, and they accomplished another. Cornelius did the same: he prayed and fasted * * *. But up to this point they always call Him “of Nazareth.” “In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth,” said Peter, “walk.” For at first, what was needed was for people to believe in Him. Let us not, I beg you, give up at the beginning of the story; and if someone has named some particular achievement of virtue and then dropped it for a while, let us start over again. If we get into the right frame of mind (ἐν ἕξει), we will soon arrive at the end and soon reach the summit. For earnestness, as the saying goes, breeds earnestness, and sluggishness breeds sluggishness. Whoever has made some small reform is encouraged by it to tackle greater things, and from there to go on to something more; and just as a fire grows fiercer the more wood it catches, so zeal, the more devout thoughts it kindles, the better armed it is against their opposites. For example: planted in us, like so many thorns, are perjury, lying, hypocrisy, deceit, dishonesty, abusiveness, mockery, clowning, indecency, and crude joking; then, under another heading, greed, plunder, injustice, slander, and scheming; then wicked lust, impurity, lewdness, sexual immorality, and adultery; then envy, rivalry, anger, rage, spite, revenge, blasphemy, and countless others. If we reform the first of these, we will have succeeded not only with them but, through them, with the ones that follow as well. For by then reason will have gained more strength to overthrow those other vices. For instance, if someone who has sworn frequently once roots out that satanic habit, he has not only won this point, but a habit of piety in other areas will also have been brought in. For no one, I think, who has turned against swearing would easily agree to do any other wicked thing; he will respect the virtue he has already gained. Just as a man wearing a beautiful robe would be ashamed to roll in the mud, so it is here as well. From this beginning he will learn not to get angry, not to hit, not to insult. For once he has gotten small things right, the whole job is done. Often, however, something like this happens: a person reforms once, and then through carelessness slides back all too readily into the old sins, so that the situation becomes hopeless. For instance, we have made it a rule for ourselves not to swear; we do well for three or even four days; after that, under some pressure, we throw away everything we had gained, and then we sink into laziness and recklessness. Still, it is not right to give up; we have to get to work again with zeal. For, as they say, a man who has built a house and then sees his building torn down will have less heart for building again. Yes, but even so, we must not lose heart; we must get to work zealously once more. So let us lay down rules for ourselves day by day. For now, let us begin with the easier ones. Let us cut out all that excess of oaths and put a bridle on our tongues; let no one swear by God. This costs no money, takes no effort, and wastes no time. All it takes is the will, and the whole thing is done. It is a matter of habit. I beg and plead with you, let us put in at least this much zeal. Tell me, if I had asked you to contribute your money, wouldn’t each of you readily give according to his means? If you saw me in extreme danger, wouldn’t you, if it were possible, have cut off your own flesh to give to me? Well, I am in danger now, and in great danger, so great that even if I were locked in a dungeon, or had received ten thousand lashes, or were a convict in the mines, I could not suffer more. So give me your hand. Think how great the danger is that I should have been unable to reform even this, which is the least thing: I say “least” in terms of the effort it takes. What will I have to say later, when I am called to account like this? “Why didn’t you protest? Why didn’t you give orders? Why didn’t you set the law before them? Why didn’t you rein in the disobedient?” It will not be enough for me to say that I did give warnings. The answer will be, “You should have rebuked them more forcefully, since Eli also warned.” (1 Sam. ii. 24.) But God forbid that I should compare you to Eli’s sons. He did indeed warn them, saying, “No, my sons, do not do so; evil is the report that I hear of you.” But later Scripture says that he did not admonish his sons (1 Sam. 3:13), since he did not admonish them severely or with threats. For isn’t it strange that in the synagogues of the Jews the laws are so strongly in force, and whatever the teacher commands is done, while here we are so despised and rejected? It is not my own glory that I care about (my glory is your good reputation), but your salvation. Every day we raise our voices and shout in your ears. But no one listens. Still, we take no strong measures. I am afraid we will have to give an account on the coming Day for this excessive and ill-timed leniency. That is why, in a loud and clear voice, I announce to everyone and solemnly declare that those who are notorious for this transgression, who say words that come “of the evil one” (Matt. v. 37.) (for that is what swearing is), are not to step over the threshold of the Church. Let this present month be the time you are given to reform in this matter. Don’t tell me, “The demands of business force me to use oaths; otherwise people don’t believe me.” To begin with, cut out the oaths that come merely from habit. I know many will laugh, but it is better to be laughed at now than wept over later. It is madmen who will laugh. For who in his right mind, I ask you, would laugh at keeping the commandment? But suppose they do; well, it will not be at us but at Christ that such people are laughing. You shudder at the word! I knew you would. Now if this law were my own creation, the laughter would be aimed at me; but if Another is the Lawgiver, the mockery passes on to Him. Yes, and Christ was once spit on, and struck with the palm of the hand, struck in the face. Now too He puts up with this, and it is no wonder (οὐδὲν ἀπεικὸς)! It is for this that hell is prepared; for this, the worm that does not die. Look, I say it again and declare it: let anyone who wants to laugh, laugh; let anyone who likes scoff. This is what we are appointed for: to be laughed at and mocked, and to suffer all things. We are “the offscouring” (1 Cor. iv. 13) of the world, as blessed Paul says. If anyone refuses to comply with this order, I, by my word, as with a trumpet blast, forbid that man to set foot across the Church’s threshold, whether he is a prince or even the one who wears the crown. Either remove me from this post, or, if I am to stay, do not put me in danger. I cannot bear to go up to this throne without bringing about some great reform. For if that is impossible, it is better to stand below. Nothing is more wretched than a ruler who does his people no good. Please make the effort and pay attention to this, I beg you; let us strive, and surely more will come of it. Fast, and pray to God (and we will do the same with you) that this destructive habit may be rooted out. It is no great matter to become teachers to the world; it is no small honor to have it said everywhere that in this city there really is not a single man who swears. If this happens, you will receive the reward not only for your own good works; in fact, what I am to you, you will become to the world. Others will certainly imitate you; you will certainly be a lamp set on a lampstand. “And is this,” you will say, “the whole thing?” No, this is not all, but it is a beginning of other virtues. Whoever does not swear will certainly reach piety in other areas too, whether he wants to or not, out of self-respect and reverence. But you will object that most people do not stick with it but fall away. Well, one man who does the will of the Lord is better than ten thousand transgressors. In fact, this is what overturns everything and turns everything upside down, I mean that, like the theater, we want large numbers, not a select few. For what good will a crowd actually be able to do? Do you want to learn that it is the saints, not the numbers, that make up the multitude? Send a million men out to war, and one saint, and let us see who accomplishes more. Joshua the son of Nun went out to war and accomplished everything alone; the rest were of no use. Would you like to see, beloved, that a great crowd, when it does not do the will of God, is no better than nothing? I do wish and long, and would gladly be torn to pieces, to adorn the Church with a multitude—yes, but a select multitude; yet if that is impossible, my desire is that the few should be select. Don’t you see that it is better to own one precious stone than ten thousand obols? Don’t you see that it is better to have a sound eye than to be heavy with flesh and yet deprived of sight? Don’t you see that it is better to have one healthy sheep than ten thousand that are diseased; that fine children, even if few, are better than many children who are sickly; that in the Kingdom there will be few, but in hell many? What do I want with a crowd? What good is it? None. Rather, they are a plague to the rest. It is as if someone who could choose between ten healthy people and ten thousand sick ones were to take on the sick ones in addition to the ten. The many who do nothing well will only serve to bring us punishment in the life to come and disgrace in this life. For no one will count it in our favor that we are many; we will be blamed for being useless. In fact, this is what people always tell us when we say, “We are many.” “Yes, but bad,” they answer. Look, again: I give warning and announce in a loud voice—let no one think this is a laughing matter—I will exclude and bar the disobedient; and as long as I sit on this throne, I will not give up a single one of its rights. If anyone removes me from it, then I am no longer responsible; as long as I am responsible, I cannot disregard them, not because of my own punishment, but because of your salvation. For I long intensely for your salvation. To promote it, I endure pain and distress. But give your obedience, so that both in this life and the next you may receive a rich reward, and so that we may together reap eternal blessings, through the grace and mercy of the only-begotten Son of God, to Whom with the Father and the Holy Spirit be glory, power, and honor, now and always, forever and ever. Amen.