Homily 17 — Acts 7, verses 35 to 53

“This Moses, whom they refused, saying, ‘Who made you a ruler and a judge over us?’ — this same man God sent to be a ruler and a deliverer by the hand of the Angel who appeared to him in the bush.” [a]

This fits the matter at hand very well. “This Moses,” he says. “This” man, who had been in danger of losing his life; the man they had treated as nothing; “this” man, whom they had rejected — “this” very man God raised up and sent to them. “Whom they refused, saying, ‘Who made you a ruler?’” — just as they themselves, the very people listening to him, had said, “We have no king but Caesar” (John 19, verse 15). Here he also shows that what was done then was done by Christ: “This same man God sent by the hand of the Angel,” the one who said to him, “I am the God of Abraham.”

“This” same Moses, he says — and notice how he points to the man’s fame — “this” same Moses “brought them out, after he had shown wonders and signs in the land of Egypt, and at the Red Sea, and in the wilderness for forty years. This is the Moses who said to the children of Israel, ‘The Lord your God will raise up for you a prophet from among your brothers, like me’” (verses 36 and 37) — treated as nothing, like me. Christ, too, Herod wanted to kill, and he found safety in Egypt. It was just as with Moses: even as a baby he was marked out for death.

“This is the one who was in the church in the wilderness with the Angel who spoke to him on Mount Sinai, and with our fathers; who received the living oracles to give to us” (verse 38). Again, no mention of a temple, none of sacrifice. “With the Angel,” it says, “he received the living oracles to give to the fathers.” It shows that he not only worked miracles but also gave a law, as Christ did. Just as Christ first works miracles and then makes laws, so did Moses. But they did not listen to him; they kept up their disobedience even after the miracles. “Our fathers,” he says, “would not obey him” (verse 39) — after the wonders done in those forty years. And not only that, but the very opposite:

“but they thrust him away, and in their hearts turned back to Egypt, saying to Aaron, ‘Make us gods to go before us; for as for this Moses, who brought us out of the land of Egypt, we do not know what has become of him.’ And they made a calf in those days, and offered sacrifice to the idol, and rejoiced in the works of their own hands. Then God turned, and gave them up to worship the host of heaven, as it is written in the book of the Prophets: ‘O house of Israel, did you offer me slain beasts and sacrifices for forty years in the wilderness? Yes, you took up the tabernacle of Moloch, and the star of your god Remphan, the images you made to worship them; and I will carry you away beyond Babylon’” (verses 40 to 43).

The expression “gave them up” means that he allowed it. “Our fathers had the tabernacle of witness in the wilderness, as he who spoke to Moses had directed him to make it, according to the pattern he had seen” (verse 44). Even when there was a tabernacle, there were still no sacrifices.

“Did you offer me slain beasts and sacrifices?” (Amos 5, verse 25). There was “the tabernacle of witness,” and yet it did them no good; they were destroyed all the same. Neither before it nor afterward did the miracles do them any good either. “Which our fathers who came after also brought in.” Do you see how the holy place is wherever God may be? That is why he also says “in the wilderness”: to set place against place. [e]

Then comes the benefit they were given: “And our fathers who came after brought it in with Joshua into the land held by the Gentiles, whom God drove out before our fathers, until the days of David; who found favor before God, and desired to find a tabernacle for the God of Jacob” (verses 45 and 46). David “desired to find favor” — and he did not build: he, the wonderful, the great. The one who built was the castaway, Solomon. “But Solomon,” it says, “built him a house. Yet the Most High does not dwell in places made with hands” (verses 47 to 50). This had already been shown by what was said before; but it is shown also by the voice of a prophet: “‘What house will you build for me?’ says the Lord God. As the prophet says, ‘Heaven is my throne, and earth is my footstool. What house will you build for me? says the Lord; or what is the place of my rest? Did not my hand make all these things?’” (Isaiah 66, verses 1 and 2).

Do not be surprised, he is saying, if the people on whom Christ bestows his benefits reject his kingdom, since with Moses it was exactly the same. [g]

“He brought them out” — and he rescued them not just in a general way, but also while they were in the wilderness. “Wonders and signs,” and the rest (verses 35 to 50). Do you notice that Stephen’s hearers themselves are bound up with those old miracles too? “This is that Moses” (verse 37): he who talked with God; he who had been saved out of such strange and wonderful situations; he who did such great works and had such great power. “Who said to the children of Israel, ‘A prophet,’” and the rest. He shows that the prophecy must by all means be fulfilled, and that Moses is not opposed to Christ.

“This is the one who was in the church in the wilderness,” and who “said to the children of Israel” (verse 38). Do you notice that the root comes from there (Romans 11, verse 16), and that “salvation is from the Jews” (John 4, verse 22)? “With the Angel,” it says, “who spoke to him.” Look, again he affirms that it was Christ who gave the law, since Moses was “with him” in the church in the wilderness. And here he reminds them of a great wonder, the things done on the mountain: “Who received living oracles to give to us.” On every occasion Moses is wonderful, and so he was when there was need to give laws. What does the expression “living oracles” mean? Those whose end was shown by words; in other words, he means the prophecies.

Then comes the charge — first against the patriarchs, after the “signs and wonders,” after they had received the “living oracles”: “To whom,” he says, “our fathers would not be obedient” (verse 39). But of those other laws Ezekiel says that they are not “living,” as when he says, “And I gave you statutes that were not good” (Ezekiel 20, verse 25). It is in contrast with those that he says “living.”

“But they thrust him away, and in their hearts turned back to Egypt” — the place where they groaned, where they cried out, from which they called on God. “And said to Aaron, ‘Make us gods who will go before us’” (verse 40). What folly! “Make,” they say, “so that they may go before us.” Go where? “Into Egypt.” See how hard it was to tear them away from the customs of Egypt! What are you saying? Not wait for the man who brought you out, but run from the benefit and deny the Benefactor?

And notice how insulting they are: “For as for this Moses,” they say, “who brought us out of the land of Egypt” — nowhere the name of God. Instead, they credited everything to Moses. Where they ought to have given thanks to God, they bring Moses forward; where it was a matter of doing what the law told them, they no longer take any account of Moses. “We do not know what has become of him.” And yet he had told them that he was going up to receive the law, and they did not have the patience to wait forty days. “Make us gods” — they did not say “a god.” And indeed one may well wonder at this, that they do not even know.

“And they made a calf in those days, and offered sacrifices to the idol, and rejoiced in the works of their own hands” (verse 41) — the very thing they should have hidden their faces over. What wonder is it that you do not know Christ, when you did not know Moses, or God, who was revealed through such wonders? But they not only failed to know him; they also insulted him in another way, by making their idol. “Then God turned, and gave them up to worship the host of heaven” (verse 42). This is where these same “customs” have their origin; this is where the sacrifices come from. They themselves were the first to offer sacrifices to their idols! That is why it is recorded, “They made a calf in Horeb, and offered sacrifices to the idol”: because before this the name of sacrifice is nowhere mentioned, but only living ordinances and “living oracles.” “And rejoiced” — that is where the feasts come from (Exodus 32, verses 5 and 6).

“As it is written in the book of the Prophets” — and notice that he does not cite the text without a purpose, but shows by it that there is no need of sacrifices. He says: “Did you offer slain beasts and sacrifice to me?” He puts the stress on these words, “to me.” “You cannot say that it was from sacrificing to me that you went on to sacrifice to them.” “For forty years” — and this too “in the wilderness,” where he had most plainly shown himself their protector. “Yes, you took up the tabernacle of Moloch, and the star of your god Remphan, the images you made to worship them.” There is the cause of the sacrifices! “And I will carry you away beyond Babylon” (verse 43). Even the captivity is an indictment of their wickedness! [l]

You will say: “But there was a tabernacle — ‘the tabernacle of witness’ (verse 44)!” Yes, and this is why it existed: so that they would have God as their witness. That was all. “According to the pattern,” it says, “that was shown you on the mountain”: so the original was on the mountain. And besides, this tabernacle “in the wilderness” was carried about, not fixed in one place. And he calls it the “tabernacle of witness,” that is, a witness to the miracles and to the statutes. This is the reason why both it and the fathers had no temple. “As he who spoke to Moses had directed, that he should make it according to the pattern he had seen.” Again, it was none other than Christ who gave the pattern itself.

“Until the days of David” (verse 45) — and there was no temple! And yet the Gentiles had been driven out too; that is why he mentions it: “Whom God drove out,” he says, “before our fathers.” “Whom he drove out,” he says — and even then, no temple! So many wonders, and no mention of a temple! So although there is first a tabernacle, there is nowhere a temple. “Until the days of David,” he says: even David, and no temple! “And he sought to find favor before God” (verse 46), and did not build — so far was the temple from being a great matter! “But Solomon built him a house” (verse 47). They thought Solomon was great; but it is plain that he was not better than his father — no, not even his equal.

“Yet the Most High does not dwell in temples made with hands; as the prophet says, ‘Heaven is my throne, and earth is my footstool’” (verses 48 and 49). No, not even these are worthy of God, since they are made: they are creatures, the works of his hand. See how he leads them on little by little, showing that not even these are worth mentioning. And again the prophecy says openly, “What house will you build for me?” and the rest (verse 50). [m]

Why does he turn to denunciation at this point? Great was his boldness of speech now that he was about to die; for in fact I think he knew that this was so. “You stiff-necked,” he says, “and uncircumcised in heart and ears!” This too is from the prophets; nothing is his own. “You always resist the Holy Spirit: as your fathers did, so do you” (verse 51). When it was not his will that there should be sacrifices, you sacrifice; when it is his will, then again you do not sacrifice. When he would not give you commandments, you drew them to yourselves; when you got them, you neglected them. Again, when the temple stood, you worshiped idols; now that it is his will to be worshiped without a temple, you do the opposite.

Notice, he does not say, “You resist God,” but “the Spirit”: so far was he from knowing any difference between the two. And, what is more, “As your fathers did,” he says, “so do you.” Christ reproached them the same way, since they were forever boasting about their fathers. “Which of the prophets did your fathers not persecute? And they killed those who announced beforehand the coming of the Righteous One” — he still says “the Righteous One,” wanting to check them — “whom you have now betrayed and murdered” — two charges he brings against them — “you who received the law as ordained by angels, and have not kept it” (verse 52).

How “ordained by angels”? Some say it means the law was ordained by angels; or else that it was put into his hand by the Angel who appeared to him in the bush — for was he a man? No wonder that he who did those works should also have done these. “You killed those who preached about him” — much more, then, would you kill him himself. He shows them disobedient to God, to angels, to the prophets, to the Spirit, to everyone; as Scripture says elsewhere too: “Lord, they have killed your prophets and torn down your altars” (First Kings 19, verse 10).

So they stand up for the law and say, “He speaks blasphemy against Moses.” He shows, therefore, that it is they who blaspheme, and not against Moses only but against God. He shows that they have been doing this from the very beginning; that they themselves destroyed their own “customs”; that there is no need of these customs; that while they accused him and said he opposed Moses, they themselves were opposing the Spirit — and not merely opposing, but adding murder to it; and that their hostility had been there all along, from the very beginning. Do you see that he shows them acting against both Moses and all the others, and not keeping the law? And yet Moses had said, “The Lord will raise up a prophet for you” (Deuteronomy 18, verse 18); and the rest also told of Christ, that he would come; and the prophet again said, “What house will you build for me?” and again, “Did you offer me slain beasts and sacrifices” those “forty years”?

This is the boldness of speech of a man who carries the cross. Let us imitate it too. Though it is not a time of war, it is always a time for boldness of speech. For “I spoke of your testimonies before kings,” one says, “and was not ashamed” (Psalm 119, verse 46). If we happen to be among pagans, let us stop their mouths in this way — without anger, without harshness. For if we do it with anger, it no longer looks like boldness, the boldness of someone confident in his cause, but like passion; but if we do it with mildness, this is boldness indeed. In one and the same thing, success and failure cannot possibly go together. The boldness is a success; the anger is a failure. So if we are to have boldness, we must be clean of anger, so that no one can put our words down to that. No matter how just your words may be, when you speak with anger you ruin everything — no matter how boldly you speak, how fairly you reprove, or anything else. [p]

Look at this man, how free of passion he is as he reasons with them! He did not abuse them; he only reminded them of the words of the prophets. And to show you that it was not anger: at the very moment he was suffering harm at their hands, he prayed, saying, “Do not hold this sin against them.” So far was he from speaking these words in anger; no, he spoke them in grief and sorrow for their sake. Indeed, this is why the account mentions his appearance — that “they saw his face as if it were the face of an angel” — so that they might believe.

Let us, then, be clean of anger. The Holy Spirit does not live where anger is: cursed is the angry man. Nothing wholesome can possibly come near where anger breaks out. In a storm at sea the tumult is great and the uproar loud, and that would be no time for philosophy; so it is with anger too. If the soul is to be in a condition either to speak any philosophy or to be trained in it, it must first be in harbor. Do you not see how, when we want to talk about serious matters, we look for places free from noise, where all is stillness and calm, so that we are not thrown off and upset? But if noise from outside upsets us, much more does a disturbance from within.

Whether a man prays, he prays to no purpose if he prays “with anger and quarreling” (First Timothy 2, verse 8). Whether he speaks, he only makes himself ridiculous. Whether he keeps silent, it will be the same even then. Whether he eats, he is harmed even then; whether he drinks or does not drink; whether he sits or stands or walks; whether he sleeps — for even in their dreams such fantasies haunt them. What is there in such people that is not unpleasant? Ugly eyes, a twisted mouth, limbs trembling and swollen, a foul tongue that spares no one, a mind unhinged, unseemly gestures: plenty to disgust. Look at the eyes of the demon-possessed, and those of drunkards and madmen: how do they differ from one another? Is it not all madness? What does it matter that it lasts only for a moment? The madman too is possessed for a moment — but what is worse than that?

And they are not ashamed of that excuse. Someone says: “I did not know what I was saying.” And how did it happen that you did not know this — you, the rational man, you who have the gift of reason precisely so that you would not play the part of the animals without reason, carried off by rage and passion like a wild horse? In truth, the excuse itself is a crime. You ought to have known what you were saying. “It was the passion that spoke the words, not I.” So you say. How could that be? Passion has no power unless it gets it from you. You might as well say, “It was my hand that inflicted the wounds, not I.”

What occasion, do you think, most needs anger? Would you not say war and battle? But even then, if anything is done with anger, the whole thing is spoiled and undone. Of all people, those who fight had better not be enraged; of all people, those who mean to do violence had better not be enraged. You will ask: “Then how is it possible to fight?” With reason, with mastery of oneself; for fighting means standing in opposition. Do you not see that even these ordinary wars are governed by fixed law, and order, and set times? Anger is nothing but an impulse without reason, and a creature without reason cannot possibly do anything rational. For instance, the man here spoke such words, and did it without passion. Elijah said, “How long will you limp on both your knees?” (First Kings 18, verse 21), and he did not say it in passion. Phinehas killed, and did it without passion. For passion does not let a man see; as in a battle by night, it leads him wherever it pleases, with his eyes blindfolded and his ears stopped.

Then let us rid ourselves of this demon. Let us put it down at its very beginning; let us make the sign of the cross on our breast, like a bridle. Anger is a shameless dog; but let it learn to obey the law. If there is a dog in a sheepfold so savage that it does not obey the shepherd’s command or know his voice, all is lost and ruined. It is kept along with the sheep; but if it makes a meal of the sheep, it is useless and is put to death. If it has learned to obey you, feed your dog: it is useful when it barks against the wolves, against the robbers, and against the captain of the robbers — not against the sheep, not against friends. If it does not obey, it ruins everything; if it does not learn to heed you, it destroys everything. Do not let anger devour the mildness in you; let it stand guard over it and see that it is well fed. And it will guard it, so that it may graze in great security, if it destroys wicked and evil thoughts, if it chases the devil away on every side.

This is how mildness is kept safe: when evil deeds are nowhere let in. This is how we become worthy of respect: when we learn not to be shameless. Nothing makes a man so shameless as a bad conscience. Why are prostitutes without shame? Why are virgins modest? Is it not from their sin that the one are so, and from their chastity the other? Nothing makes a person so shameless as sin. You say: “And yet it does the very opposite: it puts a person to shame.” Yes — the one who condemns himself. But the one who is past blushing it makes even more reckless; for despair makes people daring. For “the wicked man,” says the Scripture, “when he has come into the depths of evils, despises” (Proverbs 18, verse 3). And the shameless man will be reckless too, and the reckless man will be daring. See how mildness is destroyed when evil thoughts gnaw at it.

This is why there is such a dog, barking loudly. We also have a sling and a stone — you know what I mean. We also have a spear, and an enclosure, and a fold for the flock. Let us keep our thoughts from harm. If the dog fawns on the sheep but is savage toward those outside, and keeps a watchful guard, that is a dog’s excellence: however hungry, never to devour the sheep; however full, never to spare the wolves. That is what anger is meant to be: however provoked, never to abandon mildness; however quiet, always to stay alert against evil thoughts; to recognize the friend and not desert him for any beating, and to fly at the intruder for all his fawning. The devil fawns very often: let the dog know at a glance that he is an intruder. So let us, too, fawn on virtue, though she gives us pain, and show our dislike of vice, though she gives us pleasure. Let us not be worse than dogs, which do not desert their master even when they are whipped and choked; yet if a stranger feeds them too, they still do him harm.

There are times when anger is useful; but that is when it barks at strangers. What does it mean, “Whoever is angry with his brother without a cause” (Matthew 5, verse 22)? It means: do not rise up in your own quarrel, and do not avenge yourself; but if you see someone else suffering a deadly wrong, stretch out your hand to help him. This is no longer passion, when you are clear of all feeling for yourself alone. David had Saul in his power and was not moved by passion. He did not drive the spear into him, the enemy he had in his hands, but took his revenge on the devil (First Samuel 26, verse 7). Moses, when he saw a foreigner doing an injury, even killed him (Exodus 2, verse 12); but when it was one of his own people, he did not do so. Those who were his brothers he tried to reconcile; the others, not so. That Moses who was “very gentle,” as Scripture testifies of him (Numbers 12, verse 3) — see how he was roused! But it is not so with us. On the contrary, where we ought to show gentleness, no wild beast is as fierce as we are; but where we ought to be roused, no one is so dull and sluggish.

We never use our faculties for the purpose they were meant for, and that is why our life is spent to no purpose. Even with tools, if someone uses one in place of another, everything is spoiled. If a man takes his sword, and then, where he should use it and cut with it, uses only his hand, he does no good; again, where he should use his hand, by taking the sword in hand he spoils everything. In the same way a physician who does not cut where he ought to cut, and cuts where he ought not, ruins everything. So I beg you, let us use this thing at its proper time. The proper time for anger is never where we are acting in our own quarrel; but if it is our duty to correct others, then is the time to use it, so that we may rescue others by force. In this way we will be like God, always keeping a spirit free from anger, and we will attain the good things to come, through the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom, to the Father and the Holy Spirit together, be glory, dominion, and honor, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.