Homily 14 — Acts 5, verse 34, to 6, verse 7

“Then one in the council stood up, a Pharisee named Gamaliel, a teacher of the law respected by all the people, and ordered the men to be put outside for a little while.” [a]

This Gamaliel was Paul’s teacher. And one may well wonder how a man so right-minded in his judgment, and learned in the law besides, still did not believe. But it cannot be that he remained an unbeliever to the end. Indeed, that is plain from the words he speaks here. He “ordered,” it says, “the men to be put outside for a little while, and said to them…” Notice how wisely he frames his speech, and how right at the outset he puts them in fear. And so that he will not be suspected of taking the apostles’ side, he speaks to them as though he shared their opinion. He does not use much force, but speaks as one would to men drunk with passion: “Men of Israel, take care what you intend to do to these men” (verse 35). Do not, he means, go at this rashly and in a hurry.

“For before these days Theudas rose up, claiming to be somebody, and a number of men, about four hundred, joined him. He was killed, and all who followed him were scattered and came to nothing” (verse 36). He teaches them caution by examples, and to reassure them he names last the man who led astray the greatest number. Before he gives the examples he says, “Take care”; but once he has cited them, he states his opinion and says, “Keep away from these men.” For, he says, “after him Judas the Galilean rose up in the days of the census and drew many people after him. He also perished, and all who followed him were scattered. And now I tell you, keep away from these men and leave them alone. For if this plan or this work is of human origin, it will come to nothing; but if it is of God, you will not be able to overthrow them” (verses 37 to 39). What is there, then, he means, to keep you yourselves from being overthrown? For, he says, take care “that you are not perhaps found fighting even against God.” [b]

He tries to turn them from it on two grounds: the thing is impossible, and it is not to their advantage. And he does not say by whom those men were destroyed, only that they “were scattered” there and their league fell away to nothing. If it is of human origin, he says, why do you need to go to any trouble? But if it is of God, for all your trouble you will not be able to overcome it. The argument is unanswerable.

“And they were persuaded by him” (verse 40). How were they persuaded? Enough not to kill them, but only to have them flogged. For it says, “And when they had called in the apostles and beaten them, they ordered them not to speak in the name of Jesus, and let them go.” See after what great works they are flogged! And again their teaching spread wider, for they taught at home and in the temple: “So they left the presence of the council, rejoicing that they had been counted worthy to suffer disgrace for his name. And every day, in the temple and from house to house, they did not stop teaching and preaching Jesus Christ” (verses 41 and 42).

“Now in those days, when the number of the disciples was growing, grumbling arose from the Hellenists against the Hebrews, because their widows were being neglected in the daily ministry” (Acts 6, verse 1). Not literally in those very days: it is Scripture’s custom to speak of things that were about to happen as though they followed immediately. By “Hellenists” I take him to mean those who spoke Greek, as against the Hebrews, who did not use the Greek language. Look, another trial! See how from the very first there is war from within and from without! “Then,” it says, “the Twelve called the whole body of the disciples together and said, ‘It is not right that we should leave the word of God to wait on tables’” (verse 2).

Well said! What is necessary must give way to what is more necessary. But see how they at once take care of these lesser matters and still do not neglect the preaching. “Because their widows were being overlooked”: for the Hebrews were treated as the more important people. “So, brothers and sisters, look among yourselves for seven men of good reputation, full of the Holy Spirit and of wisdom, whom we may put in charge of this business. But we will devote ourselves continually to prayer and to the ministry of the word. And the proposal pleased the whole gathering, and they chose Stephen, a man full of faith and of the Holy Spirit” (verses 3 to 5). The others too were full of faith, so that what happened with Judas, and with Ananias and Sapphira, would not happen again. “And Philip, and Prochorus, and Nicanor, and Timon, and Parmenas, and Nicolaus, a convert from Antioch. They presented these to the apostles, and they prayed and laid their hands on them. And the word of God increased, and the number of the disciples in Jerusalem multiplied greatly, and a large number of the priests became obedient to the faith” (verses 5 to 7). [e]

But let us look again at what has been said. “Men of Israel, take care” (Acts 5, verse 35). Notice here, I beg you, how mildly Gamaliel reasons. He speaks only a few words to them, and he does not recount ancient history, though he could have, but recent cases, which are the most powerful to convince. With this in view he drops a hint himself, saying, “For before these days” (verse 36), meaning not many days before. Now if he had said straight away, “Let these men go,” he himself would have fallen under suspicion, and his speech would not have been so effective; but coming after the examples, it had its own proper force. And he mentions not one instance but a second as well — for, as Scripture says, “on the evidence of two witnesses” (Matthew 18, verse 16) — although he could have mentioned even three.

“Keep away from these men” (verse 38). See how mild his manner is. His speech is not long but concise, and even his mention of those impostors is free of passion: “And all who followed him were scattered.” And for all this he does not blaspheme Christ. They heard him — all these unbelievers heard him, these Jews. “For if this plan or this work is of human origin, it will come to nothing.” Well then, since it did not come to nothing, it is not of human origin. “But if it is of God, you will not be able to overthrow it” (verse 39).

Once more he holds them back by showing that the thing is both impossible and against their interest, saying, “that you are not perhaps found fighting even against God.” And he does not say, “if Christ is God”; the work itself declares it. He does not pronounce either that it is “of human origin” or that it is “of God,” but leaves the proof to the future. “They were persuaded by him” (verse 40). Then why, someone may ask, do you flog them? His speech was so unanswerably just that they could not look it in the face; all the same, they sated their own hostility, and again they hoped to frighten the apostles this way. [g]

The fact that he said these things when the apostles were not present also won him more of a hearing than he would otherwise have had; and then the mildness of his speech and the justice of what he said helped to persuade them. In fact, this man all but preached the good news. One might well say to them, “You were persuaded that you did not have the strength to overthrow it. Why, then, did you not believe?” Such is the witness borne even by enemies. There it was four hundred, there four thousand; but here the first movers were twelve. Do not let the number of those who joined frighten you (Acts 2, verse 41; Acts 4, verse 4). He might also have mentioned another case, that of the Egyptian, but what he said was quite enough.

And he closes his speech on a note of alarm: “that you are not perhaps…” He does not pronounce on the matter, so as not to seem to be pleading the apostles’ cause, but he reasons, by way of a syllogism, from how the matter would turn out. He does not venture to declare that it is not of human origin, nor that it is of God. If he had said it was of God, they would have contradicted him; if he had said it was of human origin, they would again have taken prompt measures. So he tells them to wait for the end, saying, “Keep away.” But they threaten once more, knowing indeed that they achieve nothing, but acting in their usual way. Such is the nature of wickedness: it attempts even the impossible.

“After him Judas rose up,” and so on. Josephus tells these things in detail. But what a great thing it was that he ventured to say it was of God, when afterward the events proved it! Great boldness of speech, great freedom from partiality! And he does not say, “But if you do not overthrow it, it is of God,” but, “If it is of God, it will not be overthrown.” “And they agreed with him” (verse 40). They respected the man’s high standing.

“And they left the presence of the council, rejoicing that they had been counted worthy to suffer disgrace for the name of Christ” (verse 41). What miracle is as wonderful as this? Nowhere is the like of it recorded of the holy men of old. Jeremiah, it is true, was flogged for the word of God, and they threatened Elijah and the rest; but in this case the apostles showed the power of God by this very thing, and not by their miracles alone. He does not say that they felt no pain, but that though they felt pain they rejoiced. How is this clear? From their boldness afterward: even after their beatings they were so intent on preaching the word. “But in the temple,” it says, “and from house to house, they did not stop teaching and preaching Jesus Christ” (verse 42).

“Now in those days” — when these things were done, when there were floggings, when there were threats, when the disciples were growing in number — then too, it says, “grumbling arose” (Acts 6, verse 1). This comes from the size of the crowd, for it is impossible to keep strict order in a multitude. “Grumbling arose,” and so on, down to “And a large number of the priests became obedient to the faith.”

“Grumbling arose against the Hebrews” — for they seemed to be the more honored group — “because their widows were being neglected in the daily ministry” (verses 1 to 7). So there was a daily ministry for the widows. And notice how he calls it a “ministry,” and not simply alms: by this he honors both those who did it and those for whom it was done. “Were being neglected.” This did not come from malice, but perhaps from the carelessness of so large a crowd. And that is why he brought it out into the open, for it was no small evil. Notice how even in the beginning the evils came not only from outside but also from within. You must not look only at the fact that it was set right; see also that it was a great evil that it happened at all. [j]

“Then the Twelve,” and so on (verse 2). Do you notice how outward matters follow on inward ones? They do not act on their own authority, but explain themselves to the gathering. That is how it ought to be done now as well. “It is not right,” he says, “that we should leave the word of God to wait on tables.” First he shows them how unreasonable the thing is: it is not possible to do both with the same attention. It was the same when they were about to ordain Matthias: first they showed the need — one was missing, and there had to be twelve. So here too they showed the need. And they did not act sooner, but waited until the grumbling arose; nor, on the other hand, did they let it spread far. And look, they leave the decision to the people! Those who pleased everyone, those whom everyone held in good repute, are the ones they present: not twelve this time, but “seven, full of the Spirit and of wisdom,” men “of good reputation” for their way of life (verse 3).

When Matthias was to be put forward, it was said, “So it must be one of these men who have been with us all the time…” (Acts 1, verse 21). But not so here, for the case was not the same. And they do not cast lots this time. They could indeed have made the choice themselves, moved by the Spirit; nevertheless, they want the testimony of the people. Fixing the number, and ordaining them for this kind of work, rested with the apostles; but the choice of the men they hand over to the people, so as not to seem to be acting out of favoritism. In the same way God leaves it to Moses to choose as elders those whom he knew (Numbers 11, verse 16). “And of wisdom”: for indeed a great deal of wisdom is needed in such ministries.

Do not think that because such a man has not been entrusted with the word, he has no need of wisdom. He does need it, and a great deal of it. “But we,” he says, “will devote ourselves continually to prayer and to the ministry of the word” (verse 4). Again they explain themselves, beginning and ending with this. “Will devote ourselves continually,” he says: for they had to do these things not as mere acts, or in any haphazard way, but continually. “And the proposal,” we are told, “pleased the whole gathering” (verses 5 and 6). This too was worthy of their wisdom: everyone approved of what was said, it was so wise. “And they chose,” it says — again it is the people who choose — “Stephen, a man full of faith and of the Holy Spirit, and Philip, and Prochorus, and Nicanor, and Timon, and Parmenas, and Nicolaus, a convert from Antioch. They presented these to the apostles, and they prayed and laid their hands on them.”

They set them apart from the crowd; it is the people who bring them forward, not the apostles who lead them. Notice how he avoids everything superfluous. He does not tell how it was done, only that they were ordained with prayer. For that is what ordination is: a man’s hand is laid on the person, but the whole work is God’s, and it is his hand that touches the head of the one ordained, if he is ordained as he should be. [k]

“And the word of God,” it says, “increased, and the number of the disciples multiplied” (verse 7). He does not say this for nothing: it shows how great is the power of almsgiving and of good order. And since he is about to enlarge on the affair of Stephen, he first sets out the causes that led up to it. “And many of the priests,” he says, “became obedient to the faith.” For since they saw that this was the mind of their ruler and teacher, they put the matter to the test of the facts.

It is also something to marvel at that the crowd was not divided in its choice of the men, and that the apostles were not rejected by them. But what kind of rank these men held, and what kind of office they received, is what we need to learn. Was it that of deacons? Yet that is not how it is in the churches. Or does the management belong to the presbyters? Yet at that time there was not yet any bishop, only the apostles. From this I think it clearly and plainly follows that their title was neither deacons nor presbyters, but that they were ordained for this particular purpose. And this business was not simply handed over to them without further ceremony: the apostles prayed over them, so that power might be given to them.

But notice, I beg you: if seven men were needed for this, the sums of money that flowed in must have been correspondingly great, and the number of widows correspondingly great too. So the prayers were not made carelessly, but with great attention; and this office, like the preaching, was carried out well in this way, for what they did, they accomplished mostly by means of their prayers. This is how they were able to give their attention to spiritual things; this is how these men also were free to undertake long journeys; this is how these were entrusted with the word.

But the writer does not say this, nor does he praise them; he says only that it was “not right” for them to leave the work given to them. They had been taught by Moses’ example not to take on the management of everything by themselves (Numbers 11, verse 14). “Only,” it says, “that we should remember the poor” (Galatians 2, verse 10). And how did they bring these men forward? They fasted. “Look among yourselves for seven men,” and so on (verse 3). It does not say simply spiritual men, but “full of the Spirit and of wisdom,” for it took a great deal of philosophy to bear the complaints of widows. What good is it that the one who hands out alms does not steal, if he still squanders everything, or is harsh and quick to take offense? [n]

“And they chose Stephen, a man full of faith and of the Holy Spirit” (verse 5). In this respect Philip too was admirable, for it is of him that the writer says, “And we went into the house of Philip the evangelist, who was one of the seven, and stayed with him” (Acts 21, verse 8). Do you see how things are arranged quite differently from the way people do things? “And the number of the disciples increased in Jerusalem” (verse 7). In Jerusalem the crowd grew. How wonderful! Where Christ was killed, there the preaching grew! And not only did no one stumble then over what happened to Ananias; the awe became even greater — while these are flogged, those threaten, others test the Spirit, others grumble. But I want you to notice under what circumstances the crowd grew: after these trials, then it was that the crowd grew, and not before.

Notice too how great the mercy of God is. Of those chief priests, of the very men who were indignant and deeply displeased and who cried out, “He saved others; he cannot save himself” (Matthew 27, verse 42) — of these same men, “many,” it says, “became obedient to the faith.” So let us imitate him too. He received them and did not drive them away. Let us repay our enemies in the same way, those who have done us countless wrongs. Whatever good thing we have, let us share it with them; let us not pass them over in our acts of kindness.

For if we ought to sate their rage by suffering wrong, much more ought we to do it by doing them good, for this is a smaller thing than the other. Doing good to an enemy is not the same as being willing to suffer more wrong than he means to do us; but from the one we will go on to the other. This is the dignity of Christ’s disciples. Those men crucified him, when he had come for the very purpose of doing them good; they flogged his disciples; and after all this he admits them to the same honor as his disciples, making them sharers in his gifts on equal terms. I beg you, let us be imitators of Christ. In this respect it is possible to imitate him. This makes a man like God; this is more than human. [r]

Let us hold fast to mercy. She is the schoolmistress and teacher of that higher wisdom. Whoever has learned to show mercy to people in distress will also learn not to resent injuries; and whoever has learned this will be able to do good even to his enemies. Let us learn to feel for the ills our neighbors suffer, and we will learn to bear the ills they inflict. Let us ask the very man who mistreats us: does he not condemn himself? Would he not be glad to show a philosopher’s spirit? Must he not admit that his behavior is nothing but passion, small-minded and pitiful? Would he not rather be one of those who are wronged and keep silent than one of those who do wrong and are beside themselves with passion? Can he go away without admiring the one who bears it patiently?

Do not imagine that this makes people contemptible. Nothing makes people so contemptible as insulting and injuring others; nothing makes them so respected as bearing insult and injury patiently. The one is a thug, the other a philosopher; the one is less than a man, the other equal to the angels. For even if he is lower than the wrongdoer, all the same he has the power to take revenge, if he chose to. Besides, the one is pitied by everyone, the other hated. What then? The first will be far the better of the two, for everyone will treat the one as a madman and the other as a man of sense.

He cannot speak ill of him. “Yes,” someone says, “you are afraid that perhaps he is not what you would make him out to be.” Best of all is not to speak ill of him even in your thoughts; next best, not to speak it to anyone else. So do not pray to God against this man. If you hear him spoken ill of, take his side. Say, “It was passion that spoke those words, not the man. It was anger, not my friend; his madness, not his heart.” Let us think this way about every offense. Do not wait for the fire to catch; check it before it comes to that. Do not provoke the wild beast — or rather, do not let it become provoked at all — for you will no longer be able to hold it back once the flame is lit. For what has the man called you?

“You fool and simpleton.” And which of the two deserves the name, the one called or the one who calls? The one, however wise he is, gets the name of fool; but the other, even if he is a simpleton, gets credit for being wise and for having a philosopher’s temper. Tell me, which is the simpleton: the one who charges another with what is untrue, or the one who is unmoved even under such treatment? If it is the mark of true philosophy to be unmoved however much one is provoked, then to fly into a rage when no one is provoking you — what folly that is! I do not yet speak of how severe a punishment awaits those who hurl such insults and abuse at their neighbor. [s]

But what? Has he called you “a nobody and low-born, a wretch from a wretched family”? Again he has turned the taunt against himself. The other man will seem worthy and respectable, and he himself a wretch indeed. To throw such things in someone’s face as a disgrace — low birth, that is — is small-minded indeed; while the other will be thought a great and admirable person, because he makes nothing of such a taunt and is no more affected by it than if he were told of any other ordinary and quite indifferent thing about himself.

Does he call you “adulterer,” and the like? At this you may even laugh, for when the conscience is not stung there is no reason for anger. And even when one considers what bad and disgraceful things he discloses, still there is no need to grieve. He has only laid bare now what everyone must learn before long. Meanwhile, as for himself, he has shown everyone that he is not to be trusted, since he does not know how to cover his neighbor’s faults. He has disgraced himself more than the other man. He has closed every harbor against himself; he has made the court where he must one day be tried a terror to himself. For it is not the person whose secrets are betrayed whom everyone will turn away from, but the one who, when he should not even have lifted the veil, stripped off the clothes.

But as for you, say nothing of the secrets you know; hold your peace, if you want to carry off a good name. For not only will you undo what has been said and cover it over, you will also bring about another great result: you will keep sentence from being passed against yourself. Does someone speak ill of you? Say, “If he had known everything, he would not have said only this much.”

So you admire what has been said, and are delighted with it? Yes, but you must follow it. When we tell you all these maxims of the pagan moralists, it is not because Scripture does not contain hundreds of such sayings, but because these have more power to make you blush. Scripture itself often appeals to our sense of shame in this way, as when it says, “Do even as the nations do” (Jeremiah 35, verse 3). And the prophet Jeremiah brought the sons of Rechab out before the public eye, showing how they would not agree to break their father’s command. Miriam and those with her spoke against Moses, and at once he begged them off their punishment — more than that, he would not even let it be known that he had been avenged (Numbers 12). But we are not like that. On the contrary, this is what we most want: to have everyone know that our enemies have not gone unpunished. How long will we go on breathing of the earth?

It takes two to make a fight. Drag at the madmen from both sides and you will only enrage them more; but pull from the right or from the left, and you have put out the passion. The man who strikes, if he is dealing with someone who will not put up with blows, is all the more set on it; but if he meets one who gives way, he is sooner worn out, and his blow is spent on himself. No skilled boxer wears down his opponent’s strength as much as a man who is insulted and gives nothing back. The other simply goes away ashamed, condemned first by his own conscience and then by everyone looking on. There is also a proverb that says, “To honor another is to honor oneself”; so to insult another is to insult oneself. No one, I say again, will be able to harm us unless we harm ourselves; no one will make me poor unless I make myself so. Come, let us look at it this way. Suppose I have a beggarly soul, and everyone pours out all their wealth on me: what of it?

As long as the soul is not changed, it is all in vain. Suppose I have a noble soul, and everyone takes my wealth from me: what of it? As long as you do not make the soul beggarly, no harm is done. Suppose my life is impure, and everyone says just the opposite about me: what of it? Though they say it, they do not judge me that way in their hearts. Again, suppose my life is pure, and everyone says the reverse about me: what of it? In their own consciences they will condemn themselves, since they are not persuaded of what they say. Just as we ought not to accept praise, so we ought not to accept accusations either.

And why do I say these things? No one will ever be able to plot against us or bring any evil charge to bear on us, if we choose not to let them. How so, I ask you? Let him drag me into court; let him bring malicious charges against me; let him, if you like, take my very life: what of it? To suffer these things undeservedly for a little while — what does it matter? You say: “Well, but this in itself is an evil.” Well, but in itself this is a good: to suffer undeservedly. What? Would you have the suffering deserved? Let me tell you once more a piece of philosophy from one of the wise men. A certain man, the story goes, had been put to death, and one of the wise man’s disciples said to him: “How dreadful, that he should have suffered unjustly!”

The other turned on him and said: “Why, what’s this? Would you have had him suffer justly?” [w]

John too — was he not put to death unjustly? Which do you pity more: those who suffer death justly, or him? Do you not count them wretched, while him you even admire? How, then, is a man harmed, when from death itself he has gained a great deal and suffered no hurt at all? If the man had been immortal and this had made him mortal, it would certainly be a harm. But if he is mortal, and by the course of nature must expect death a little later, and his enemy has only hastened his death — and brought glory with it — where is the harm? Only let us keep our soul in good order, and no harm will come from outside.

But you have no glory? What of it? What is true of wealth holds for glory too. If I am great-souled, I will need none; if I love empty glory, the more I get, the more I will want. This is how I will become most distinguished and win the greater glory: by despising glory. Knowing these things, then, let us give thanks to him who has freely given us such a life, and let us pursue it for his glory; for to him belongs the glory forever. Amen.