Homily 7 — Acts 2, verses 37 to 47

“Now when they heard these words, they were pierced to the heart, and said to Peter and to the rest of the apostles, ‘Men and brothers, what shall we do?’” [a]

Do you see what a great thing gentleness is? It pierces our hearts more than any vehemence could; it inflicts a sharper wound. Think of bodies that have grown callous. The man who strikes them does not reach the feeling so powerfully; but if he first softens them and makes them tender, then he pierces them effectively. So it is here too: first there must be softening. And what softens is not anger, not vehement accusation, not personal abuse; it is gentleness. Those other things only make the callousness worse; this alone removes it.

So if you want to correct someone who has done wrong, approach him as mildly as you possibly can. For see what happens here. Peter gently reminds them of the outrages they have committed, adding no comment of his own. He declares God’s gift; he goes on to speak of the grace that bore witness to what had happened; and so he draws his speech out to still greater length. That is why they stood in awe of Peter’s gentleness. He was speaking to men who had crucified his Teacher and who breathed murder against himself and his companions, and yet he spoke to them as an affectionate father and teacher would.

Not only were they persuaded; they even condemned themselves and came to see what they had done. For he gave their anger no room to be stirred up and to darken their judgment. By his humility he scattered, as it were, the mist and darkness of their indignation, and only then pointed out to them the daring outrage they had committed.

That is how it is. When we say that we ourselves have been wronged, the other side tries to prove they did no wrong. But when we say, “We have not been wronged; rather, we are the ones who did the wrong,” the others take the opposite line. So if you want to put your enemy in the wrong, beware of accusing him. No — plead for him, and he will be sure to find himself guilty. There is a natural spirit of contradiction in human beings. That was how Peter acted. He did not accuse them harshly; on the contrary, he almost tried to plead for them, as far as he could. And that was the very reason he got through into their souls.

You will ask: “Where is the proof that they were pierced?” In their own words. For what do they say? “Men and brothers, what shall we do?” The men they had called deceivers they now call “brothers.” Not that they were putting themselves on an equal footing with them by this; rather, they meant to win their brotherly affection and kindness. Besides, the apostles had stooped to call them by this title themselves. And they say, “What shall we do?” [c]

They did not immediately say, “Well then, we repent.” They handed themselves over to the disciples. A man about to be shipwrecked, when he sees the helmsman, or a sick man, when he sees the physician, would put everything into his hands and do whatever he says. In the same way these men have confessed that they are in extreme danger and without any hope of salvation. They did not say, “How shall we be saved?” but, “What shall we do?” And here again, though the question is put to all of them, Peter is the one who answers. “Repent,” he says, “and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ.”

He does not yet say, “Believe,” but, “Be baptized, every one of you” (verse 38). For this they received in baptism. Then he speaks of the gain: “for the forgiveness of sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.” If you are going to receive a gift, if baptism brings forgiveness, why delay? [d]

Next he gives his speech a persuasive turn, adding, “For the promise is to you” (verse 39) — for he had spoken of a promise earlier. “And to your children,” he says: the gift is greater when they too are to be heirs of the blessings. “And to all,” he goes on, “who are far off”: if to those who are far off, how much more to you who are near! “As many as the Lord our God will call.” Notice when he chooses to say, “to those who are far off.” It is when he finds them won over and accusing themselves. For once the soul passes sentence on itself, it can no longer feel envy.

“And with many other words he testified and exhorted them, saying…” (verse 40).

Notice how the writer aims at brevity throughout, and how free he is from any love of show or display. “He testified and exhorted them, saying.” This is teaching at its most complete, with something of fear in it and something of love. “Save yourselves from this crooked generation.” He says nothing about the future; it is all about the present, which is what chiefly moves people. He shows that the good news sets us free from present evils as well. [e]

“Then those who gladly received his word were baptized; and that same day about three thousand souls were added to them” (verse 41). Don’t you think this cheered the apostles more than the miracle did? “And they continued steadfastly and with one accord in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship” (verse 42). Here are two virtues: perseverance and harmony. “In the apostles’ teaching,” he says, for the apostles went on teaching them; “and fellowship, and in the breaking of bread, and in prayer.” Everything in common, everything with perseverance.

“And fear came upon every soul” (verse 43) — that is, on those who believed. For they did not look down on the apostles as ordinary men, nor did they fix their attention only on what could be seen. Truly, their thoughts were set glowing. And since Peter had spoken at length before, and had declared the promises and the things to come, they might well be beside themselves with fear. The wonders, too, bore witness to the words:

“Many wonders and signs were done by the apostles.” It was just as it had been with Christ: first there were signs, then teaching, then wonders; and so it was now. “And all who believed were together, and had all things in common” (verse 44). Think what an advance was made here at once! Their fellowship was not only in prayers, nor in teaching alone, but also in their whole way of life. “And they sold their possessions and goods, and distributed them to all, as anyone had need.” See what fear had worked in them! [f]

“And they distributed them,” he says, showing their wise management: “as anyone had need.” Not recklessly, like some of the philosophers among the Greeks, some of whom gave up their land while others threw great quantities of money into the sea. That was no contempt of riches, but mere folly and madness. For the devil has everywhere made it his aim to run down what God has made, as if it were impossible to make good use of riches. “And continuing daily with one accord in the temple” (verse 46), they enjoyed the benefit of teaching. Notice how these Jews did nothing else, great or small, but faithfully attend at the temple.

For having become more earnest, they had grown more devoted to the place as well. The apostles did not, for the present, pull them away from it, for fear of harming them. “And breaking bread from house to house, they took their share of food with gladness and simplicity of heart, praising God, and having favor with all the people” (verse 47). It seems to me that when he mentions “bread” here, he means fasting and a hard way of life. For they “took their share of food,” not of delicacies. “With gladness,” he says. [h]

Do you see that it was food, not luxury, that made their enjoyment? Those who live in luxury are under punishment and pain; but not these. Do you see that Peter’s words included this as well, the ordering of their lives? “And simplicity of heart.” For there can be no gladness where there is no simplicity. How did they have “favor with all the people”? Because of their almsgiving. Do not look at the fact that the chief priests rose up against them out of envy and spite; consider rather that “they had favor with the people.” “And the Lord added to the church daily, together, those who were to be saved. And all who believed were together.” Once again, their oneness of mind, their love, which is the cause of all good things!

“Now when they heard this…” “Then Peter said to them…” [j]

What had been said was not enough. Those earlier words were enough to bring them to faith; but these are meant to show what the believer ought to do. And he did not say, “in the cross,” but, “Let every one of you be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ” (verse 38). He does not keep reminding them of the cross, so that he will not seem to be reproaching them. He says simply, “Repent.” And why? So that we may be punished? No: “And let each of you be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of sins.” And yet the law of this world’s courts is quite different! But with the proclamation of the good news, once the offender has confessed, he is saved.

Notice how Peter does not rush past this at once, but also sets out the terms, adding, “You will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit” — a claim made credible by the fact that the apostles themselves had received that gift. “For the promise…” (verse 39): “the promise,” that is, the gift of the Holy Spirit. So far he speaks of the easy part, the part that brings a great gift with it; then he leads them on to practice. For having already tasted such great blessings would give them reason to be earnest. “And with many other words he testified…” (verse 40). But since the hearer would want to learn the gist and substance of these further words, he tells us: “saying, Save yourselves from this crooked generation.” “Then those who gladly received his word…” (verse 41). They approved of what had been said, frightening as it was, and once they had given their assent they went straight on to baptism.

“And they continued steadfastly,” it says, “in the teaching of the apostles” (verse 42). For it was not for one day, nor for two or three, that they were under teaching, since they were people who had gone over to a different way of life. “And they continued with one accord in the apostles’ teaching.” The word is not “together” but “with one accord” — and later he says, “and daily they continued with one accord in the temple” — that is, with one soul. And here again, in his brevity, he does not report the teaching they were given; for the apostles fed them with spiritual food, as one feeds young children.

“And fear came upon every soul” (verse 43) — plainly on those who did not believe as well, since they saw so great a change brought about all at once, and because of the miracles besides. “And all who believed were together, and had all things in common” (verse 44). All at once they have all become angels. Continuing in prayer and in listening, they saw that spiritual things are held in common and that no one there has more than another, and they quickly came together to the same thing in common: to sharing with all. “And all who believed,” it says, were “together.” To see that this does not mean they were together in one place, look at what follows: “and had all things in common.” “All,” it says — not some with others left out. This was a way of life fit for angels: to call nothing of theirs their own. At once the root of evils was cut out. By what they did, they showed what they had heard. This was what he meant by, “Save yourselves from this crooked generation.”

“And continuing daily with one accord in the temple” (verse 46). Now that they have become three thousand, the apostles take them out in public, the boldness the Spirit gave being great besides. Daily they went up to it as to a holy place, just as we often find Peter and John doing, for as yet they disturbed none of the Jewish observances. And this honor too passed over to the place — the eating “in the house.” In what house? In the temple.

See how their devotion grows. They threw away their riches and rejoiced, and had great gladness, for the riches they received without labor were greater. No one reproached, no one envied, no one begrudged; there was no pride, no contempt. Like children they counted themselves as still under teaching; their disposition was that of newborn babies. But why use so faint a comparison? If you remember how it was when God shook our city with an earthquake, how humbled everyone was — that is how it was then with those converts. No trickery, no villainy then: such is the effect of fear, of affliction! No talk of “mine” and “yours” then. That is why gladness waited on their table. No one seemed to eat of his own, or of another’s — I grant that this may sound like a riddle. They did not consider their brothers’ property something foreign to themselves, for it was their Master’s property; nor did they consider anything their own: everything was their brothers’.

The poor man felt no shame, the rich man no haughtiness. This is gladness. The rich man thought himself the one who was obliged and fortunate; the others felt themselves honored by it; and they were closely bound together. For when people hand out gifts of money, insults, pride and grudging are apt to come with it. That is why the apostle says, “Not grudgingly, or under compulsion” (Second Corinthians 9, verse 7). “With gladness and simplicity of heart.” See how many things he bears witness to in them: genuine faith, upright conduct, perseverance in listening, in prayers, in simplicity, in cheerfulness. “Praising God” (verse 47). There were two things that might have dejected them: their sparing way of living, and the loss of their property. Yet for both these reasons they rejoiced. “And having favor with all the people.” For who would not love men like these, as fathers to everyone? They harbored no malice toward one another; they entrusted everything to the grace of God. “With all the people.”

Fear there was none, even though they had taken their stand in the midst of dangers. By “simplicity,” however, he means their whole virtue, which went far beyond their contempt of riches, their self-denial and their perseverance in prayer. For in this way they also offered pure praise to God; this is what it is to praise God. But notice here too how they obtain their reward at once: “Having favor with all the people.” They were winning, and deeply loved. For who would not value and admire such simplicity of character? Who would not be drawn close to someone with nothing underhanded in him? [o]

And to whom does salvation belong, if not to such people? To whom did those great marvels come? Was it not to shepherds that the good news was first announced? And to Joseph, a man of so simple a mind that he did not let a suspicion of adultery frighten him into doing wrong? Did not God choose country people, those men without guile? For it is written, “Blessed is every simple soul” (Proverbs 11, verse 25). And again, “He who walks simply walks securely” (Proverbs 10, verse 9).

You will say: “True, but prudence is needed too.” Why, what is simplicity, I ask you, if not prudence? When you suspect no evil, you cannot devise any either; when nothing annoys you, you cannot remember wrongs either. Has someone insulted you? You were not pained. Has someone abused you? You were not hurt at all. Has he envied you? Still you came to no harm. Simplicity is a highway to true philosophy. No one is so beautiful in soul as the simple.

Think of a person’s appearance. The one who is sullen, downcast and brooding, even if he is good-looking, loses much of his beauty; while the one who relaxes his face and smiles gently makes his good looks greater. It is the same with the soul. The one who is brooding and closed spoils his good points, even if he has ten thousand of them; but with the frank and simple it is just the reverse. A man of this kind can safely be made a friend, and if you fall out with him he is easily reconciled. With such a person there is no need of guards and outposts, no need of chains and fetters; great is his own freedom, and the freedom of those who spend time with him.

You will say: “But what will such a man do if he falls among wicked people?” God, who has commanded us to be simple-minded, will stretch out his hand. Who was more guileless than David? Who more wicked than Saul? Yet who triumphed? Again, take Joseph’s case. Did he not deal with his master’s wife in simplicity, while she dealt with him with wicked cunning? Yet tell me, what was he the worse for it? Again, who was more simple than Abel? Who more malicious than Cain? And Joseph once more: did he not deal openly with his brothers? Was not this the cause of his greatness, that he spoke out without suspicion while they took his words with malice? He told them his dreams openly, once and again; and then he set out to them carrying provisions. He took no precautions; he entrusted everything to God. In fact, the more they treated him as an enemy, the more he treated them as brothers.

God had the power not to let him fall into their hands. But it was so that the wonder might be made plain: that though they do their worst, he will be higher than they. Even if the blow does fall on him, it comes from someone else, not from himself. The wicked man, on the contrary, strikes himself first, and no one but himself. “For he alone,” it says, “will bear his troubles” (Proverbs 9, verse 12).

In such a man the soul is always full of dejection, since his thoughts are always tangled. Whether he must hear something or say something, he does it all with complaints and accusations. Friendship and harmony make their home far, very far from such people; there are fights there instead, and enmities, and every unpleasantness. People like this suspect even themselves. Not even sleep is sweet to them, nor anything else. And if they have a wife too, see how they are enemies, at war with everyone: what endless jealousies, what constant fear! Yes, the wicked man takes his very name from trouble. [r]

And in fact Scripture is always calling wickedness by the name of labor. For example, “Under his tongue is toil and labor”; and again, “In the midst of them is toil and labor” (Psalm 10, verse 7; Psalm 90, verse 10; and Psalm 55, verse 11).

Now if anyone wonders how those who had at first been of this latter kind have now become so different, let him learn that affliction was the cause — affliction, that schoolmistress of heavenly wisdom, that mother of godliness.

When riches were done away with, wickedness disappeared too. You say: “True, and this is the very thing I am asking about. Where does all the wickedness that exists now come from? How did it come into the minds of those three thousand and those five thousand to choose virtue at once? How did they all become Christian philosophers together, when now hardly one is to be found? How did they live in such harmony then? What made them resolute and active? What set them on fire so suddenly?” [t]

The reason is that they came near with great devotion; that honors were not sought after then as they are now; that they turned their thoughts to the things to come and looked for nothing from the things of the present. This is the mark of an ardent mind: to face dangers. This was their idea of Christianity. We see it differently; we look for our comfort here. The result is that we will not obtain even this when the time comes. “What are we to do?” those men asked. With us it is just the contrary: “What shall we do?” What had to be done, they did.

We do quite the reverse. Those men condemned themselves and despaired of saving themselves; that is what made them what they were. They knew what a gift they had received. But how can you become like them, when you do everything in the opposite spirit? They heard, and were baptized at once. They did not speak the cold words we speak now, nor did they invent delays — and yet they had heard everything that was required of them. But that word, “Save yourselves from this generation,” kept them from being sluggish. Rather, they welcomed the exhortation; they proved by their deeds that they welcomed it, and showed what kind of men they were. [v]

They entered the contest at once and stripped off their cloaks. We do enter, but we mean to fight with our cloaks on. That is why our opponent has so little trouble with us: we get entangled in our own movements and are thrown again and again. We do exactly what this man would do. He has to take on a man in a frenzy, breathing fire. He sees him — a trained wrestler, covered with dust, tanned, stripped, caked with dirt from the sand and the sun, streaming with sweat and oil and grime. And he himself, smelling of perfume, puts on his silk clothes and his gold shoes and his robe that hangs down to his heels, with his gold ornaments on his head, and so goes down into the arena and grapples with him. Such a man will not only be hampered. Taken up with the single thought of not staining or tearing his fine clothes, he will fall at the very first charge, and besides will suffer what he dreaded most, the ruin of that darling finery of his.

The time for the contest has come — tell me, are you putting on your silks? It is the time for training, the hour of the race — and are you dressing up as if for a parade? Do not look to outward things, but to the inward. For thoughts about these things tie up the soul on every side, as if with strong cords, so that it cannot let you raise a hand or fight against the adversary; they make you soft and effeminate. Even when a man has been set free from all these ties, he may count himself well off if he is able to conquer that unclean power.

That is why Christ too did not let the giving up of riches be enough by itself. What does he say? “Sell whatever you have, and give to the poor, and come, follow me” (Mark 10, verse 21). Now if, even when we throw our riches away, we are still not safe, but need further skill and close training, much more, if we keep them, will we fail to achieve anything great; instead we will become a laughingstock to the spectators and to the evil one himself. For even if there were no devil, even if there were no one to wrestle with us, ten thousand roads on every side lead the lover of money to hell.

Where now are those who ask why the devil was made? Look — here the devil has no hand in the work; we do it all ourselves. In truth, those who live in the hills might have a right to talk like that: men who have given proof of their self-control, their contempt of wealth and their disregard of all such things, and have infinitely preferred to leave father and houses and lands and wife and children. Yet they are the last to say it; it is the men who ought never to say it who do. Those men’s struggles really are wrestling with the devil; these others he does not think worth wrestling with at all.

You will say: “But it is the devil who puts this very greed into us.” Well then, run from it, my friend; do not give it house room. Suppose you saw someone throwing filth out of an upper story, and another person who sees it being thrown, yet stands there and takes it all on his head. You would not only not pity him; you would be angry and tell him it served him right. “Don’t be a fool!” everyone shouts at him, and they blame not so much the one throwing out the filth as the one who let it land on him. Now you know that greed comes from the devil; you know that it is the cause of ten thousand evils; you see him flinging out his foul imaginings like filth. And do you not see that you are taking his nastiness on your bare head, when you had only to step aside a little to escape it completely? Just as our man could have escaped by moving, so you too: refuse to let such imaginings in; ward off the craving.

You will ask: “And how am I to do this?” If you were a pagan, with eyes only for the things of the present, it might perhaps be quite difficult — and yet even the pagans have managed as much. But you, a man who expects heaven and the happiness of heaven — are you asking, “How am I to drive off bad thoughts?” If I were telling you the opposite, then you might hesitate. If I said, “Covet riches,” you might answer, “How am I to covet riches, seeing the things I see?” Tell me: if gold and precious stones were set in front of you and I said, “Desire lead,” would there not be reason to hesitate? You would say, “How can I?” But if I said, “Do not desire it,” that would be easier to understand.

I do not marvel at those who despise riches, but at those who do not. This is the mark of a soul exceedingly full of stupidity, no better than flies and gnats, a soul crawling on the ground, wallowing in filth, with no lofty thought at all. What are you saying? You are to inherit eternal life, and you ask, “How shall I despise the present life for the sake of the future?” Can the two even be compared? You are going to receive a royal robe, and you ask, “How shall I despise these rags?” You are going to be brought into the king’s palace, and you ask, “How shall I despise this hovel I live in now?”

Truly we ourselves are to blame in every respect, since we will not let ourselves be stirred up even a little. For those who were willing have succeeded, and with great zeal and ease. May you be persuaded by our exhortation and succeed as well, and become imitators of those who have succeeded, by the grace and mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom, to the Father and the Holy Spirit together, be glory and power and honor, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.