Homily 16 — Acts 7, verses 6 to 34

“And God spoke in this way: that his descendants would live as strangers in a foreign land, and that they would enslave them and mistreat them for four hundred years. ‘And the nation they serve as slaves I will judge,’ said God, ‘and after that they will come out and serve me in this place.’” [a]

See how many years ago the promise was given, and what kind of promise it was — and nowhere a sacrifice, nowhere circumcision! Here he shows that God himself allowed them to be afflicted, not because he had anything to charge them with. “And they will enslave them,” and so on. But even so, those who did these things did not go unpunished: “And the nation they serve as slaves I will judge, said God.” To show that they must not judge who is godly by this standard — for they said, “He trusted in God; let God deliver him” (Matthew 27, verse 43) — the very one who made the promise, the one who gave the land, is the one who first allows the evils.

So too now: though he has promised a kingdom, he still lets us be trained by trials. If there the freedom was not to come until after four hundred years, what wonder is it where the kingdom is concerned? Yet he carried it out, and the passing of time could not make his word false. Moreover, it was no ordinary slavery they endured. And the matter does not end merely with the punishment of their oppressors: the people themselves, he says, will also enjoy a great rescue. Here he reminds them, too, of the benefit they had received.

“And he gave him the covenant of circumcision, and so he became the father of Isaac.” Here he comes down to lesser matters. “And circumcised him on the eighth day; and Isaac became the father of Jacob, and Jacob of the twelve patriarchs” (verse 8). Here he seems already to be hinting at the type. “And the patriarchs, moved with envy, sold Joseph into Egypt” (verse 9). Here again is the type of Christ. They had no fault to find with him, and he had come on purpose to bring them their food, and still they treated him this badly. Yet here again the promise is fulfilled, even though it takes a long while. “And God was with him” — this too is aimed at them — “and rescued him out of all his troubles” (verse 10). [b]

He shows that without knowing it they helped to fulfill the prophecy, that they themselves were the cause, and that the evils came back on their own heads. “And gave him favor and wisdom in the sight of Pharaoh, king of Egypt.” He gave him favor in the eyes of a barbarian — him, the slave, the captive. His brothers sold him; this barbarian honored him.

“Now a famine came over all the land of Egypt and Canaan, and great hardship, and our fathers could find no food. But when Jacob heard that there was grain in Egypt, he sent our fathers there the first time. And on the second visit Joseph made himself known to his brothers” (verses 11 to 13). They came down to buy, and had to depend on him for everything. What did he do then? He made himself known to his brothers. And he did not carry his kindness only that far: he also made them known to Pharaoh, and brought them down into the land. “And Joseph’s family was made known to Pharaoh. Then Joseph sent and called his father Jacob to him, and all his relatives, seventy-five persons. So Jacob went down into Egypt and died, he and our fathers, and they were carried back to Shechem and laid in the tomb that Abraham had bought for a sum of money from the sons of Hamor, the father of Shechem. But as the time of the promise that God had sworn to Abraham drew near, the people grew and multiplied in Egypt, until another king arose who did not know Joseph” (verses 13 to 18).

Then again, a new cause for despair. First, famine — but they came through that. Second, falling into the hands of their enemy. Third, being destroyed by the king. Then, to show how rich God is in ways and means: “At this time,” it says, “Moses was born, and he was exceedingly beautiful” (verse 20). If the earlier event was wonderful, that Joseph was sold by his brothers, here is another more wonderful still: the king “brought up” the very person who was to overthrow his rule, though he himself was the one who was going to perish. Do you notice how, all along, the resurrection of the dead is being acted out in figure, so to speak? But it is not the same thing for God to do something himself as for something to come about through human choice. These things came about through human choice; the resurrection comes about by itself, apart from it.

“And he was mighty,” it says, “in words and in deeds” (verse 22) — he who was supposed to have died! Then again he shows how ungrateful they were to their benefactor. Just as before they were saved by the Joseph they had wronged, so here again they were saved by another man they had wronged — I mean Moses. “And when he was forty years old,” and so on. For what does it matter that they did not actually kill him? In intention they did kill him, as the others had done in the earlier case. There, they sold him out of their own land into a foreign one; here, they drive him from one foreign land into another. In the first case it was a man bringing them food; in this one, a man giving them good advice — a man to whom, under God, one of them owed his life!

See how this shows the truth of Gamaliel’s saying, “If it is of God, you will not be able to overthrow it” (Acts 5, verse 39). See how those who were plotted against end up bringing rescue to those who plotted against them: the people plotting against itself, and plotted against by others as well — and for all that, saved! A famine came, and it did not destroy them. Nor was that all: they were saved through the very man they had expected to see destroyed at their hands. A royal decree came, and it did not destroy them: no, their numbers grew most of all precisely when the one “who knew” them was dead.

They wanted to kill their own savior, and for all that they did not have the power to do it. Do you see that the very means by which the devil tried to bring God’s promise to nothing were the means by which it was carried forward? [g]

“And God spoke in this way,” and so on (verses 6 and 7). This too is fitting to say here: that God is rich in ways and means to bring us up out of this place. For this above all showed the wealth of God’s resources: that the nation grew in the very midst of its setbacks — while enslaved, while mistreated, while people were trying to wipe it out. And this is the greatness of the promise. If the nation had grown in its own land, it would not have been so wonderful. Besides, it was no short time that they spent in the foreign land, but four hundred years. From this we learn a great lesson in the philosophy of endurance. They did not treat them as masters treat slaves, but as enemies and tyrants do; and yet he foretold that they would be set in great freedom. That is the meaning of the words, “They will serve me, and they will come back up here again” — and without harm to themselves.

And notice how, while he seems to grant circumcision something, in fact he allows it nothing (verse 8), since the promise came before it and circumcision followed after. “And the patriarchs,” he says, “moved with envy” (verse 9). Where it does no harm, he humors them, for they took great pride in these men as well.

He shows, too, that the holy men were not spared distress, but that in the very midst of their distresses they received help; and that the very people who wanted to cut these things short themselves helped bring about the outcome. Just so, the brothers made Joseph all the more glorious. Just so, the king did the same for Moses by ordering the children to be killed — for if he had not given that order, this would not have happened. Just so, that Hebrew drove Moses into exile, so that there, having become worthy, he might see the vision. So too the one who was sold as a slave, God makes to reign as king in the very place where he was thought a slave. So too Christ in his death gives proof of his power; so too he reigns as king in the very place where they sold him.

“And gave him favor and wisdom,” and so on (verse 10). This was not only to honor him, but so that he would have confidence in his own power. “And he made him governor over Egypt and over all his household. Now a famine came,” and so on. By means of a famine — such are the preparations he is making! “With seventy-five persons,” he says, “Jacob went down into Egypt and died, he and our fathers, and they were carried back to Shechem and laid in the tomb that Abraham had bought for a sum of money from the sons of Hamor, the father of Shechem” (verses 11 to 16). This shows that they did not own so much as a burial place.

“But as the time of the promise that God had sworn to Abraham drew near, the people grew and multiplied in Egypt, until another king arose who did not know Joseph” (verses 17 and 18). Notice that it is not during the four hundred years that he multiplies them, but only when the end was about to draw near. And yet four hundred years had already passed in Egypt — more, in fact. But this is exactly the wonder of it. “He dealt craftily with our people and mistreated our fathers, making them cast out their infants so that they would not live” (verse 19). “Dealt craftily”: he hints that they did not want to wipe them out openly. “Making them cast out their infants,” it says. “At this time Moses was born, and he was exceedingly beautiful” (verse 20). This is the wonder: the one who is to be their champion is born neither after these things nor before them, but in the very height of the storm.

“And he was brought up in his father’s house for three months.” But when human help had been given up and they put him out, then God’s kindness shone out plainly. “And when he was cast out, Pharaoh’s daughter took him up and brought him up as her own son” (verse 21). Not a word about a temple, not a word about sacrifice, while all these acts of providence are taking place! And he was brought up in a barbarian household. “And Moses was instructed in all the wisdom of the Egyptians, and was mighty in words and in deeds” (verse 22). “Was trained” — both in discipline and in learning. [l]

“And when he was forty years old” (verse 23). Forty years he lived there, and he was not found out, even though he was circumcised. Notice how, once they are in safety, both he and Joseph disregard their own interests in order to save others. “And when he was forty years old, it came into his heart to visit his brothers, the children of Israel. And seeing one of them being wronged, he defended him and avenged the one who was oppressed, striking down the Egyptian. For he supposed his brothers would understand that God was giving them rescue by his hand; but they did not understand” (verses 23 to 25).

See how up to this point Stephen does not yet offend them — how they listened to him while he said all this. And “his face,” we read, “was like the face of an angel” (Acts 6, verse 15). “For he supposed,” and so on. And yet it was by deeds that he showed himself their champion; what understanding did that take? But even so, “they did not understand. And the next day he appeared to them as they were fighting, and tried to reconcile them, saying, ‘Men, you are brothers; why do you wrong one another?’” (verses 26 to 28). Do you see how mildly he speaks to them? The man who had shown his anger in the other’s case shows his gentleness in his own.

“But the man who was wronging his neighbor pushed him away, saying, ‘Who made you a ruler and a judge over us? Do you want to kill me as you killed the Egyptian yesterday?’” Notice: the very words they said to Christ, “Who made you ruler and judge over us?” So habitual a thing it was for Jews to wrong their benefactors at the very moment they were receiving their benefits! And again, notice the vile wickedness: “As you killed the Egyptian yesterday!” “At this saying Moses fled, and became a stranger in the land of Midian, where he became the father of two sons” (verse 29). But flight did not snuff out the plan of providence, any more than death did — the death of Christ, I mean.

“And when forty years had passed, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in the wilderness of Mount Sinai, in a flame of fire in a bush” (verse 30). Do you notice that the passing of time is no hindrance? When he was an exile, a stranger; when he had now spent so long in a foreign land that he had two sons; when he no longer expected to return — then the angel appears to him. He calls the Son of God an angel, just as he also calls him a man. He appears in the desert, not in a temple. See how many miracles are taking place, and not a word about a temple, not a word about sacrifice! And not simply in the desert, but in a bush. [n]

“When Moses saw it, he marveled at the sight; and as he came near to look, the voice of the Lord came to him” (verse 31). See, he was counted worthy of the voice as well. “I am the God of your fathers, the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob” (verses 32 and 33). See how he shows that he is none other than “the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob” — he, “the Angel of Great Counsel” (Isaiah 9, verse 6). Here he shows how great is the love for humankind that God displays in this.

“Then Moses trembled and did not dare to look. Then the Lord said to him, ‘Take your shoes off your feet, for the place where you are standing is holy ground.’” Not a word about a temple — and the place is holy through the appearance and working of Christ. This is far more wonderful than the place in the Holy of Holies, for nowhere is God said to have appeared there in this way, nor Moses to have trembled like this. And then, the greatness of his tender care: “I have seen, I have seen the affliction of my people who are in Egypt, and I have heard their groaning, and I have come down to rescue them. And now come, I will send you into Egypt” (verse 34).

See how he shows that God was drawing them to himself by kindnesses, by punishments, and by miracles; but they stayed the same. They learned that God is present everywhere. Hearing these things, let us run to him in our troubles. “And their groaning,” he says, “I have heard” — not simply “because of their disasters.”

But if someone should ask, “Why then did he let them be mistreated there?” — well, in the first place, for every righteous man his sufferings are the cause of his rewards. In the next place, as to why he afflicted them: it was to show his power, that he can do all things; and not only that, but also to train them. Look at what actually happened: when they were in the desert, then “they grew fat, they grew thick, they spread out broad, they kicked” (Deuteronomy 32, verse 15). Ease has always, everywhere, been a bad thing. That is why from the beginning he said to Adam, “By the sweat of your face you will eat your bread” (Genesis 3, verse 19). It was also so that, having come out of much suffering into rest, they might give thanks to God.

For affliction is a great good. Listen to the prophet saying, “It is good for me that you have humbled me” (Psalm 119, verse 71). And if affliction is a great good to great and wonderful men, much more is it to us.

And, if you like, let us examine what affliction is in itself. Picture someone who is extremely merry and lighthearted, giving free rein to his high spirits: what is more unseemly, what more senseless than that? Picture another who is sorrowful and downcast: what is more truly philosophic than that? For “it is better,” we read, “to go into the house of mourning than into the house of laughter” (Ecclesiastes 7, verse 2). But very likely you do not like the saying and want to get away from it. Then let us see what kind of man Adam was in Paradise, and what he was afterward; what kind of man Cain was before, and what he was afterward. The soul does not stand firm in its proper place. As if carried on a running tide, it is lifted and buoyed up by pleasure, with no steadiness: quick to make declarations, ready with promises, its thoughts all in restless commotion; laughter out of season, merriment without cause, the idle clatter of empty talk.

But why speak of others? Let us take one of the holy men and see what he was like in pleasure, and again what he was like in distress. Shall we look at David himself? When he was in pleasure and rejoicing — from his many trophies, from his victory, from his crowns, from his luxurious living, from his confidence — see what he said and did: “But I said in my prosperity,” he says, “I will never be moved” (Psalm 30, verse 6). But when he had come into affliction, hear what he says: “But if he says to me, ‘I have no pleasure in you,’ here I am; let him do to me what is pleasing in his sight” (Second Samuel 15, verse 26). What could be more truly philosophic than these words? “Whatever is pleasing to God,” he says, “let it be so.” And again he said to Saul, “If it is the Lord who has stirred you up against me, may your sacrifice be acceptable” (First Samuel 26, verse 19). Then too, when he was in affliction, he spared even his enemies; but afterward he did not spare even friends, nor those who had done him no wrong.

Again, Jacob, when he was in affliction, said, “If the Lord gives me bread to eat and clothing to wear” (Genesis 28, verse 20). So too the son of Noah had done nothing of the kind before; but once he was no longer afraid for his safety, you hear how insolent he became (Genesis 9, verse 22). Hezekiah too: when he was in affliction, see what he did to be rescued — he put on sackcloth, and the like; but when he was in comfort, he fell through the pride of his heart (Second Kings 19, verse 20). For Scripture says, “When you have eaten and drunk and are full, take care for yourself” (Deuteronomy 6, verses 11 and 12). The position of wealth is dangerous, like the edge of a cliff. “Take care,” it says, “for yourself.” When the Israelites were afflicted, they grew all the more in number; but when he left them to themselves, then they all went to ruin.

But why speak of examples from the ancients? Let us look at our own times, if you like. Is it not the case that when most people are doing well, they become puffed up, hostile to everyone, and quick-tempered, while the power is in their hands; but if it is taken away, they become gentle and lowly, and as human beings are brought to recognize their own natural condition? That is why Scripture says, “Pride has held them fast to the end; their wrongdoing will come out as if from fatness” (Psalm 73, verse 6).

Now I have said these things so that we should not make enjoyment our aim in every way. How then does Paul say, “Rejoice always”? He does not say simply “Rejoice”; he adds, “in the Lord” (Philippians 4, verse 4). This is the greatest joy, the joy the apostles rejoiced in: the joy whose source and root and occasion are prisons and scourgings and persecutions and a bad name and every painful thing, and which therefore comes to a happy end. The joy of the world, on the contrary, begins with sweetness and ends in bitterness. I do not forbid rejoicing in the Lord — no, I earnestly urge it. The apostles were flogged, and they rejoiced; they were chained, and they gave thanks; they were stoned, and they preached. This is the joy I would have too. It has its origin in nothing bodily, but in spiritual things.

It is not possible for someone who rejoices in the world’s way to rejoice in God’s way as well. Everyone who rejoices in the world’s way has his joy in riches, in luxury, in honor, in power, in arrogance; but the one who rejoices as God would have it has his joy in dishonor for God’s sake, in poverty, in need, in fasting, in humility. Do you see how opposite the grounds of joy are? To go without joy here is also to be without grief; and to be without grief here is to go without pleasure too. And in truth it is these things that produce real joy, since the others have only the name of joy but consist entirely of pain.

What misery the arrogant man endures! How he is cut down in the midst of his arrogance, bringing on himself countless insults, much hatred, great hostility, bitter spite, and many an evil eye! If he is insulted by greater men, he grieves; if he cannot hold his ground against everyone, he is humiliated. The humble man, by contrast, lives in great enjoyment. He expects honor from no one: if he is honored, he is pleased; if not, he does not grieve. He is content when he is honored; but above all, no one dishonors him. Now, not to seek honor and yet to be honored — how great the enjoyment of that must be! With the other it is just the reverse: he seeks honor and is not honored. And the pleasure honor gives is not the same to the one who seeks it as to the one who does not. The one, however much he receives, thinks he has received nothing; the other, though you give him ever so little, takes it as if he had received everything.

Then again, the man who lives in wealth and luxury has countless business affairs; and let his revenues flow in to him ever so easily, as if from full fountains, he still fears the evils that come from luxurious living, and the uncertainty of the future. The other is always at ease and in enjoyment, since he has trained himself to a plain diet. He does not lament going without a sumptuous table nearly as much as he delights in not fearing the uncertainty of the future.

As for the evils that come from luxurious living, how many and how great they are, no one can be unaware; still, it is necessary to mention them now. Twofold is the war, in the body and in the soul; twofold the storm; twofold the diseases — and not only in this respect, but also because both are incurable and bring great disasters with them. Not so with frugality: here there is twofold health, twofold benefit. “Healthy sleep,” we read, “comes from moderate eating” (Sirach 31, verse 20). Everywhere, what keeps to measure is pleasant; what goes beyond measure stops pleasing.

Tell me: put a great pile of firewood on a little spark, and you will no longer see the fire shining, only a great deal of unpleasant smoke. Lay on a very strong, big man a burden beyond his strength, and you will see him lying flat on the ground with his burden. Load your ship with too large a cargo, and you have made sure of a terrible shipwreck. It is just the same here. In overloaded ships there is a great uproar among the sailors, the helmsman, the lookout at the bow and the passengers, as they throw overboard the things above deck and the things below. So too here: with vomiting upward and purging downward, people ruin their constitutions and destroy themselves. And the most shameful thing of all: the mouth is made to do the work of the lower parts, and becomes the more shameful member of the two.

But if the disgrace to the mouth is so great, think what it must be in the soul! There, indeed, all is mist, all storm, all darkness. Great is the uproar of the thoughts, thronged and crushed as they are, and the soul itself cries out at the abuse done to it. All its parts complain of one another, begging and pleading for the filth to be discharged somewhere. And even after it has been thrown out, the turmoil is not over: then come fever and diseases.

“And how is it,” you say, “that one can see these men who live in luxury looking fine, riding on horseback? What idle talk is this,” you say, “telling us about diseases? It is I who am diseased, I who am tormented, I who am loathsome, while I have nothing to eat.” Alas! One may well lament at such words. But the sufferers from gout, the men carried about on litters, the men swathed in bandages — from what class of people, I ask you, will we see these come? In fact, if they would not take it as an insult and think my words abusive, I would long ago have called them out by name.

“But there are some of them who are in good health as well.” That is because they give themselves not only to luxurious living but also to hard work. Otherwise, show me a man who does nothing at all but fatten himself, and who lies there free from pain and without an anxious thought. Even if a countless crowd of physicians came together, they could not rescue him from his diseases. It is not in the nature of things.

Let me give you a lecture in medicine. Not all of what is sent down into the stomach becomes nourishment. Even in food itself not everything is nourishing: in digestion part passes off as waste, and part is turned into nourishment. If digestion does its work perfectly, this is the result, and each goes to its proper place: the wholesome and useful part goes where it belongs, while what is superfluous and useless withdraws and passes off. But if the quantity is too great, then even the nourishing part becomes harmful.

To take an example, so that my meaning may be clearer to you: in wheat, part is fine flour, part coarse meal, part bran. If the mill can grind what is put into it, it separates all these; but if you put in too much, everything gets mixed up together. Wine, again: if it goes through its proper process of forming, with the seasons doing their work, then, though at first everything is mixed together, in time part settles into dregs, part rises as scum, and part remains for the enjoyment of those who drink it. That is the good part, and it does not easily spoil. But what they call “nourishment” is neither wine nor dregs while everything is mixed up together.

The same thing can be seen in a river when its waters become a whirling flood. At such times we see the fish floating dead on the surface, their eyes first blinded by the muddy slime. So it is with us. When gluttony, like a flood of rain, has drenched the inner parts, it throws everything into a whirl, and makes our powers of reasoning, healthy until then and living in a clean element, drift lifeless on the surface.

Since we have shown by all these examples how great the harm is, let us stop calling these men happy for the very thing for which we ought to think them wretched, and stop lamenting over ourselves for the very thing for which we ought to count ourselves happy. Let us welcome having enough with a contented mind. Or do you not even hear what the physicians tell you, that “want is the mother of health”? But what I say is that want is the mother not only of bodily health but of the soul’s health too. Paul, that true physician, cries these things aloud when he says, “If we have food and clothing, with these let us be content” (First Timothy 6, verse 8). So let us do as he tells us, so that, being in sound health, we may do the work we ought to do, in Christ Jesus our Lord, with whom be glory, dominion, and honor to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.