Homily 4 — Acts 2, verses 1 to 13

“And when the day of Pentecost had fully come, they were all with one accord in one place. And suddenly there came a sound from heaven.” [a]

Do you see the type? What is this Pentecost? The time when the sickle was to be put to the harvest and the crops were gathered in. Now see the reality, when the time had come to put in the sickle of the word. For here the Spirit came down like a sickle with a sharp edge. Listen to the words of Christ: “Lift up your eyes,” he said, “and look at the fields, for they are already white for harvest” (John 4, verse 35). And again: “The harvest truly is great, but the laborers are few” (Matthew 9, verse 37). But as the firstfruits of this harvest, he himself took our nature and carried it up on high. He himself was the first to put in the sickle. That is also why he calls the word the seed (Luke 8, verses 5 and 11).

“When,” it says, “the day of Pentecost had fully come”: that is, when it was Pentecost, while the feast was going on — in short, during it. For it was necessary that these events too should take place during the feast, so that those who had witnessed the crucifixion of Christ might also see these.

“And suddenly there came a sound from heaven” (verse 2). Why did this not happen without signs the senses could perceive? For this reason: if, even when things happened as they did, people said, “They are full of new wine,” what would they not have said had it been otherwise? And it does not say simply, “there came a sound,” but “from heaven.” The suddenness also startled them and brought them all together to the spot. “As of a rushing mighty wind”: this signals the overwhelming force of the Spirit. “And it filled all the house”: so that those present both believed and in this way were shown to be worthy. [c]

Nor is that all. What is more awe-inspiring still: “And there appeared to them,” it says, “divided tongues, as of fire” (verse 3). Notice how it always says “as of,” and rightly, so that you may form no crude notions of the Spirit drawn from the senses. So too with “as of a rushing wind”: it was not, then, a wind. “As of fire.” When the Spirit was to be made known to John, it came upon the head of Christ in the form of a dove; but now, when a whole multitude was to be converted, it is “as of fire. And it sat upon each of them.” This means that it remained and rested on them, for sitting signifies settledness and permanence.

Was it on the Twelve that it came? No, but on the hundred and twenty. Otherwise Peter would not have quoted the testimony of the prophet to no purpose, saying: “And it will come to pass in the last days, says the Lord God, that I will pour out my Spirit on all flesh; and your sons and your daughters will prophesy, and your young men will see visions, and your old men will dream dreams” (Joel 2, verse 28). [d]

“And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit” (verse 4). So that the effect should not be only to frighten them, it is both “with the Holy Spirit and with fire” (Matthew 3, verse 11). “And they began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance.” They receive no other sign but this first one, for it was new to them, and there was no need of any other sign. “And it sat upon each of them,” says the writer. Notice now how the man who was not chosen as Matthias was has no longer any reason to grieve. “And they were all filled,” he says: they did not merely receive the grace of the Spirit, but “were filled. And they began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance.”

It would not have said “all,” with the apostles also present, unless the rest shared in it as well. If that were not so, he would not now have put them all together with the rest, after mentioning the apostles earlier separately and by name. For if, where he only had to record that they were present, he mentions the apostles apart, much more would he have done so in a case like this.

Notice how it is when people continue in prayer, when they live in love, that the Spirit draws near. It reminded them of another vision too, for as fire he appeared also in the bush (Exodus 3, verse 2). “As the Spirit gave them utterance”: for the things they spoke were weighty sayings, deep utterances.

“And there were dwelling at Jerusalem Jews, devout men” (verse 5). Their living there was itself a sign of their devotion: that men from so many nations should have left country and home and relatives and be living there. For it says, “There were dwelling at Jerusalem Jews, devout men, from every nation under heaven. Now when word of this spread, the crowd came together and were bewildered” (verse 6). Since the event had taken place in a house, they naturally came together from outside. The crowd was bewildered: it was all in commotion. They marveled —

“because every man heard them speaking in his own language. And they were amazed,” it says, “and marveled, saying to one another, ‘Look, are not all these who are speaking Galileans?’” (verses 7 to 13). At once they turned their eyes toward the apostles. “And how is it” (it goes on) “that we hear, each of us, in our own language in which we were born? Parthians and Medes and Elamites, and those living in Mesopotamia, and in Judea and Cappadocia, in Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, in Egypt and the parts of Libya around Cyrene” — notice how they run from east to west — “and visitors from Rome, Jews and converts, Cretans and Arabians: we hear them speaking in our own languages the wonderful works of God. And they were all amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, ‘What does this mean?’ But others, mocking, said, ‘These men are full of new wine.’” [g]

Oh, the utter folly! Oh, the utter malice! Why, it was not even the season for that, for it was Pentecost. This was what made it worse: that while those others were acknowledging it — men who were Jews, men who were Romans, men who were converts, yes, perhaps men who had crucified him — these, after such great signs, say, “They are full of new wine!”

But let us go over what has been said from the beginning. [i]

“And when the day of Pentecost had fully come.” “It filled,” he says, “the house.” That rush of wind was like a very pool of water. This signaled the abundance, as the fire did the force. Nothing like this ever happened in the case of the prophets. For with souls not yet drunk, such visitations do not come with much commotion; but “when they have drunk freely,” then indeed it is as it was here. With the prophets it was otherwise. The roll of a book is given to Ezekiel, and he ate what he was about to speak. “And it was in his mouth,” it says, “as honey for sweetness” (Ezekiel 3, verse 3). Again, the hand of God touches the tongue of another prophet (Jeremiah 1, verse 9); but here it is the Holy Spirit himself — so equal is he in honor with the Father and the Son. And again, on the other hand, Ezekiel calls it “lamentation, and mourning, and woe” (Ezekiel 2, verse 10).

For them it might well come in the form of a book, since they still needed images. They had to deal with only one nation, and with their own people; but these with the whole world, and with people they had never known. Elisha, too, receives the grace by means of a mantle (Second Kings 2, verse 13); another receives it by oil, as David did (First Samuel 16, verse 13); and Moses by fire, as we read of him at the bush (Exodus 3, verse 2). But in the present case it is not so, for the fire itself sat upon them. (But why did the fire not appear in such a way as to fill the house? Because they would have been terrified.) Yet the story shows that it is the same here as there. You are not to stop at this, that “there appeared to them divided tongues,” but notice that they were “of fire.” A fire like this can kindle endless fuel. And it is well said, “divided,” for they came from one root, so that you may learn that it was a working sent from the Comforter.

But notice how these men too were first shown to be worthy, and then received the Spirit as men who were worthy. So it was with David, for instance: what he did among the sheepfolds, he did the same after his victory and his trophy, so that it might be shown how simple and complete his faith was. Again, see Moses despising royal rank and leaving everything, and after forty years taking the lead of the people (Exodus 2, verse 11); and Samuel busy there in the temple (First Samuel 3, verse 3); Elisha leaving everything (First Kings 19, verse 21); Ezekiel again, made known by what happened afterward. In this way, you see, these too left everything they had. They also learned what human weakness is by what they suffered; they learned that it was not in vain that they had done these good works. Even Saul, after he had first been attested as a good man, afterward received the Spirit (First Samuel 9, and First Samuel 11, verse 6). [l]

But none of them received it in the way these did here. Moses, for example, was the greatest of the prophets; yet when others were to receive the Spirit, he himself suffered a diminishing. But here it is not so. Just as fire kindles as many flames as it will, so here the fullness of the Spirit was shown, in that each one received a fountain of the Spirit — as indeed he himself had foretold, that those who believe in him would have “a well of water springing up into everlasting life” (John 4, verse 14).

And it was right that it should be so. For they were not going out to argue with Pharaoh, but to wrestle with the devil. But the wonder is this: when they were sent, they raised no objections. They did not say they were “weak in voice and slow of tongue” (Exodus 4, verse 10), for Moses had taught them better. They did not say they were too young (Jeremiah 1, verse 6); Jeremiah had made them wise. And yet they had heard of many fearful things, much greater than those the men of old faced; but they were afraid to object.

And because they were angels of light and servants of the things above — “suddenly there came a sound from heaven.” To the men of old no one appears “from heaven,” while they still follow a calling on earth; but now that a man has gone up on high, the Spirit too comes down mightily from on high. “As of a rushing mighty wind”: by this it makes plain that nothing will be able to stand against them, but they will blow away all their opponents like a heap of dust. “And it filled all the house”: the house, too, was a symbol of the world. “And it sat upon each of them,” and “the crowd came together and were bewildered.”

Notice their devotion: they pass no hasty judgment, but are perplexed, while those reckless ones pass judgment at once, saying, “These men are full of new wine.” Now it was so that they could, in keeping with the law, appear in the temple three times a year that these “devout men from every nation” were living there. Notice here that the writer has no intention of flattering them. He does not say that they gave any opinion, but what? “Now when word of this spread, the crowd came together and were bewildered.” And well they might be, for they supposed the matter was now coming to a head against them because of the outrage done to Christ. Their conscience, too, stirred up their souls, with the blood still on their hands, and everything alarmed them.

“Look, are not all these who are speaking Galileans?” For this was indeed admitted. “And how is it that we hear”: so much did the sound alarm them. “Each of us in our own language”: for it found most of the world gathered there. “Parthians and Medes,” and the rest. This gave the apostles courage, for what it was to speak the Parthian language they did not know, but now learned it from what those people said. Here nations are mentioned that were hostile to them — Cretans, Arabians, Egyptians, Persians — and it was made plain here that they would conquer them all. As for how these Jews came to be in those countries, many of them were there as captives; or else the teachings of the law had spread among the Gentiles in those countries. So the testimony comes from every quarter: from citizens, from foreigners, from converts. “We hear them speaking in our own languages the wonderful works of God.” It was not only that they spoke in their languages, but that the things they spoke were wonderful. Well might they be perplexed, for nothing like it had ever happened.

Notice the honesty of these men. They were amazed and perplexed, saying, “What does this mean?” But “others, mocking, said, ‘These men are full of new wine,’” and so they mocked. Oh, the brazenness! And yet what wonder is it? Even of the Lord himself, when he was casting out demons, they said that he had a demon (John 8, verse 48)! For so it is: wherever shameless assurance exists, it has only one aim — to speak at all costs, it does not care what. It does not care that a man should say something real and relevant to the matter under discussion, only that he should speak, no matter what.

“They are full of new wine.” A likely thing, isn’t it, that men in the middle of such dangers, dreading the worst and in such dejection, should have the nerve to say such things! And notice: since this was unlikely — for they would not have been drinking much at so early an hour — they put the whole thing down to the kind of wine, and say, “They are full” of it.

“But Peter, standing up with the eleven, lifted up his voice and said to them” (verse 14). Earlier you saw his careful forethought; here you see his manly courage. If they were astonished and amazed, was it not just as wonderful that he, an unlettered and ordinary man, should be able to find words in the middle of such a crowd? If a man is flustered when he speaks among friends, how much more might he be among enemies and men thirsting for blood? That they are not drunk he shows at once by his very voice; that they are not out of their minds, like the soothsayers; and this too, that they were not forced by some compelling power.

What is meant by “with the eleven”? They spoke with one common voice, and he was the mouth of them all. The eleven stood by as witnesses to what he said. “He lifted up his voice,” it says: that is, he spoke with great confidence, so that they might perceive the grace of the Spirit. He who had not stood up to the questioning of a poor servant girl now, in the middle of the people, all of them breathing murder, speaks with such confidence that this very thing becomes an undeniable proof of the resurrection — and that among men who could laugh at such things and make a joke of them! What brazenness, do you think, that takes! What impiety, what shamelessness!

For wherever the Holy Spirit is present, he makes men of gold out of men of clay. Look at Peter now, I beg you. Examine him well, that timid man, the one lacking understanding — as Christ said, “Are you also still without understanding?” (Matthew 15, verse 16) — the man who after that wonderful confession was called “Satan” (Matthew 16, verse 23). Consider also the oneness of mind among the apostles. They themselves gave up to him the task of speaking, for there was no need for all of them to speak. “And he lifted up his voice,” and spoke out to them with great boldness.

That is what it is to be a spiritual man! Only let us too bring ourselves into a state fit for the grace from above, and everything becomes easy. A man of fire falling into the middle of straw would suffer no harm, but would do harm to others: he could not be hurt, but they, by attacking him, destroy themselves. The case here was just as if someone carrying hay were to attack someone carrying fire. That is how the apostles met these opponents of theirs, with great boldness.

For what harm did it do them, though their opponents were so great a multitude? Did those opponents not spend all their rage? Did they not turn the distress back on themselves? Of all people, were any ever so gripped by rage and terror together as they were? Were they not in agony, dismayed and trembling? Listen to what they say: “Do you mean to bring this man’s blood on us?” (Acts 5, verse 28). [s]

Did the apostles not fight against poverty and hunger, against disgrace and a bad name — for they were counted deceivers? Did they not fight against ridicule and anger and mockery? In their case opposites met: some laughed at them, others punished them. Were they not made a target for the angry passions and for the amusement of whole cities, exposed to factions and plots, to fire and sword and wild beasts? Did not war beset them from every side, in ten thousand forms? And were they any more troubled in their minds by all these things than they would have been by seeing them in a dream or in a painting?

With bare bodies they took the field against all who were armed, though everyone held unchecked power over them. Ranged against them were the terrors of rulers, the force of arms, cities and strong walls. Without experience, without skill in speaking, in the condition of quite ordinary men, matched against sleight-of-hand conjurers, against impostors, against the whole throng of sophists, of rhetoricians, of philosophers grown moldy in the Academy and the walks of the Peripatetics — against all these they fought the battle to the end. And the man whose work had been on lakes so mastered them that it seemed to cost him less effort than a contest with dumb fish. It was as if the opponents he had to outwit were truly more mute than fish, so easily did he get the better of them!

And Plato, who talked a great deal of nonsense in his day, is silent now, while this man’s voice is heard everywhere — not only among his own countrymen, but also among Parthians and Medes and Elamites, and in India, and in every part of the earth, to the ends of the world. Where now is Greece, with her grand pretensions? Where is the name of Athens? Where are the ravings of the philosophers? The man from Galilee, the man from Bethsaida, the uncouth countryman, has overcome them all. Are you not ashamed — admit it — at the very name of the country of the man who has defeated you? And if you hear his own name too, and learn that he was called Cephas, you will hide your faces all the more.

This, this is what has undone you completely: you count this a disgrace, and you think a smooth tongue something to praise and the lack of one a disgrace. You have not followed the road you ought to have chosen. Leaving the royal road, so easy, so smooth, you have walked one that is rough and steep and laborious. And that is why you have not reached the kingdom of heaven.

But someone asks: “Why, then, did Christ not work on Plato and on Pythagoras?” Because Peter’s mind was far more philosophical than theirs. They were really children, tossed about on every side by empty glory; but this man was a philosopher, one ready to receive grace. If you laugh at these words, it is no wonder; for those people long ago laughed too, and said the men were full of new wine. But afterward, when they suffered those bitter disasters, more miserable than any others — when they saw their city falling in ruins, the fire blazing, the walls hurled to the ground, and those many frantic horrors that no one can find words to describe — they did not laugh then. And you will laugh then, if you have a mind to laugh, when the time of hell is close at hand, when the fire is kindled for your souls. [t]

But why do I speak of the future? Shall I show you what Peter is, and what Plato the philosopher is? Let us examine their habits for the present, and see what each of them pursued. The one wasted his time on a set of idle and useless doctrines, and philosophized, as he says, so that we might learn that the soul of our philosopher becomes a fly! Very truly said, a fly! Not that he changes into one; but a fly must have taken possession of the soul that lived in Plato. For what but a fly is worthy of such ideas? The man was full of irony and of jealousy toward everyone else, as though he made it his ambition to bring in nothing useful, either from his own head or from other people’s. So he adopted the transmigration of souls from another man, and from himself produced the Republic, in which he laid down those laws full of gross indecency.

Let the women, he says, be held in common; let the unmarried girls go naked and wrestle before the eyes of their lovers; let there also be common fathers, and let the children born be common. But with us it is not nature that makes common fathers; it is the philosophy of Peter that does this. As for that other system, it did away with fatherhood altogether. For Plato’s scheme only served to make the real father all but unknown, while a false one was brought in. It plunged the soul into a kind of drunkenness and filthy wallowing. Let all, he says, have intercourse with the women without fear.

The reason I do not examine the sayings of the poets is so that I may not be accused of digging up fables. And yet I am speaking of fables far more ridiculous even than those. Where have the poets invented anything so monstrous as this? But, not to go into his other sayings, what do you say to these — when he equips the women with weapons and helmets and greaves, and says that the human race need not differ from the race of dogs? Since dogs, he says, female and male, do just the same things together, let the women do the same work as the men, and let everything be turned upside down.

For the devil has always tried by means of such men to show that our race is no more honorable than that of the animals without reason. In fact, some have gone to such a pitch of empty conceit as to claim that the creatures without reason are endowed with reason. And see in how many different ways he has run riot in the minds of those men! Their leading men claimed that our soul passes into flies and dogs and animals without reason; those who came after them, ashamed of this, fell into another kind of indecency. They credited the animals with every kind of rational knowledge, and made out that these creatures — which were brought into existence for our sake — are in every respect more honorable than we are! They even credit them with foreknowledge and piety. The crow, they say, knows God, and so does the raven; they have gifts of prophecy and foretell the future; there is justice among them, and an ordered way of life, and laws.

Perhaps you do not believe what I am telling you. And well you might not, brought up as you have been on sound teaching; just as a man fed on such fare would never believe that there is a human being who finds pleasure in eating dung. The dog, too, according to Plato, is jealous among them. But when we tell them that these things are fables and full of absurdity, they say: “You do not grasp the higher meaning.” No, we do not grasp this nonsense of yours that outdoes all others, and may we never do so. It takes — of course! — an exceedingly profound mind to tell me what all this impiety and confusion is getting at. Are you talking the language of crows, you senseless men, as children do in their games? For you really are children, just like them.

But Peter never thought of saying any of these things. He sent out a voice like a great light shining in the darkness, a voice that scattered the mist and darkness of the whole world. And again, how gentle his bearing was, how considerate, how far above all empty glory! How he looked toward heaven without any self-exaltation, and this even when he was raising the dead! But if it had been in the power of any one of those senseless people — in pure fantasy, of course — to do anything like it, would he not at once have looked for an altar and a temple to be built to him, and wanted to be counted equal with the gods? For even when no such sign is forthcoming, they are forever indulging such fantastic conceits. And what, I ask you, are that Minerva of theirs, and Apollo, and Juno? They are different kinds of demons among them. And there is a king of theirs who sees fit to die for no other purpose than to be counted equal with the gods.

But not so the men here — quite the opposite. Hear how they speak when the lame man is healed: “Men of Israel, why do you stare so at us, as though by our own power or holiness we had made him walk?” (Acts 3, verse 12). “We also are men of like nature with you” (Acts 14, verse 15). But with those others the self-exaltation is great, the bragging is great: everything for the sake of honors from people, nothing for the pure love of truth and virtue. For where an action is done for glory, all of it is worthless. Though a man has everything, if he does not master this craving, he forfeits all claim to true philosophy; he is a slave to the more tyrannical and shameful passion.

Contempt for glory: this is what is enough to teach everything good and to drive every destructive passion out of the soul. So I urge you to make every effort to pull this passion out by the very roots. By no other means can you stand well with God and draw down on yourselves the kindly gaze of that Eye that never sleeps. Let us therefore use all earnestness to enjoy that heavenly favor, and so both escape the trial of present evils and attain the blessings to come, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom be glory, power and honor to the Father and the Holy Spirit, now and always, and to all the ages. Amen.