Homily 34 — Acts 15, verse 35, to 16, verse 12

“Paul and Barnabas also stayed on in Antioch, teaching and preaching the word of the Lord, with many others as well.” [a]

Notice their humility again: they let others share in the preaching too. “And some days later Paul said to Barnabas, Let us go back and visit our brothers in every city where we have preached the word of the Lord, and see how they are doing. And Barnabas was determined to take with them John, whose other name was Mark. But Paul did not think it good to take with them the man who had left them in Pamphylia and had not gone with them to the work. And the contention between them was so sharp that they separated from each other” (verses 36 to 39).

Luke has already described to us the character of the apostles: the one was more tender and yielding, this one stricter and more severe. For the gifts are different — and I do call them gifts, for it is plain that this is a gift — the one suited to one kind of people, the other to another; and if they change places, harm comes of it instead of good. We find this in the prophets too: different minds, different characters. Elijah, for instance, was stern, and Moses gentle. So here Paul is the more forceful. And yet, for all that, notice how gentle he is. “He did not think it good,” it says, “to take with them the man who had left them in Pamphylia.”

There does seem to be exasperation here. But in fact the whole affair is a plan of God’s providence, so that each man would receive the place that suited him. It was fitting that they should not be on an equal footing, but that the one should lead and the other be led. “And so Barnabas took Mark and sailed to Cyprus; and Paul chose Silas and set out, commended by the brothers to the grace of God. And he went through Syria and Cilicia, strengthening the churches” (verses 39 to 41). This too was the work of providence. For the people of Cyprus had shown nothing like what those at Antioch and the other places had shown. They needed the gentler character, while these needed a character like Paul’s.

“Which of them did well, then? The one who took Mark, or the one who left him behind?” Just as a general would not choose to have a man of low spirit as his baggage carrier forever, neither would the apostle. His course corrected the other’s, and it taught Mark himself a lesson. “Then did Barnabas do wrong? And how is it not out of place that so great an evil should arise over so small a matter?” In the first place, no evil came of it at all, but a great good, if, each of them being equal to whole nations, they were divided from each other. And besides, they would not easily have chosen to leave each other. But admire the writer, I beg you: see how he does not hide even this. “But at any rate, if they had to part, it should have been without exasperation.” Well, if nothing else, notice this: here too it is shown what was human in the preaching of the good news. For if something of this kind had to be shown even in what Christ did, much more here. [e]

Besides, a contention cannot be called evil when each man is contending for such ends, and with good reason. I grant you, if the exasperation had come from seeking his own interest and fighting for his own honor, it might well deserve blame. But if both of them wanted to instruct and teach, and one took this way and the other that, what is there to find fault with? In many things they acted on their human judgment, for they were not blocks of wood or stones. And notice how Paul brings a charge against Mark, and gives the reason. Out of his great humility he respected Barnabas, as one who had been his partner in such great works and had been with him; yet he did not respect him so much as to overlook what was necessary. Now which of them advised better is not for us to pronounce. But this much we may say: it was a great arrangement of providence, if these were to be granted a second visit, and those were not to be visited even once.

“Teaching and preaching the word of the Lord” (verse 35). They did not simply stay on in Antioch; they taught. What did they “teach,” and what did they “preach” — that is, announce as good news? They taught those who were already believers, and announced the good news to those who were not yet believers. “And some days later,” and so on (verse 36). Because there were countless stumbling blocks, their presence was needed. “How they are doing,” he says. He did not know this — naturally. See him always alert, full of concern, unable to bear sitting idle, although he faced dangers without end. Do you notice that it was not out of cowardice that he had come to Antioch? He acts just as a physician does with the sick. And he showed the need to visit them by saying, “where we have preached the word.” “And Barnabas was determined,” and so on (verses 37 to 40). [f]

So Barnabas “left them, and did not go with them.” The point to consider is not that they differed in their opinions, but that they made allowance for each other, seeing that their parting would be a greater good; and the matter took this as its occasion. What then? Did they part as enemies? Far from it! In fact, after this you see Barnabas receiving much praise from Paul in the letters.

There was “a sharp contention,” it says — not enmity, not quarreling. The contention went only so far as to part them. “And Barnabas took Mark,” and so on. [g]

And with good reason. What each thought useful, he did not give up afterward for the sake of his partnership with the other. In fact, it seems to me that the parting was done by design, and that they said to each other: “Since I do not want this and you do, let us divide the places between us, so that we will not fight.” So in fact they did this in complete deference to each other. Barnabas wanted Paul’s plan to stand, and so he withdrew; Paul, in turn, wanted the other’s plan to stand, and so he withdrew. If only we too made separations like that — to go out and preach! What a wonderful man this is, and how very great!

This contest did Mark a great deal of good. The awe Paul inspired turned him around, while the kindness of Barnabas kept him from being left behind. So they contend, yes, but the gain comes to one and the same end. Seeing Paul choose to leave him, Mark would be deeply awed and would condemn himself; and seeing Barnabas take his side like that, he would love him dearly. So the disciple was corrected by his teachers’ contention — so far was he from stumbling over it. If they had done this for their own honor, he might well have stumbled. But if it was for his salvation, and they were contending for one and the same thing, the one who honored him seeking to show that he had judged rightly, what is there wrong in it?

“But Paul,” it says, “chose Silas and set out, commended to the grace of God.” What does this mean? They prayed, it says; they pleaded with God. See how on every occasion the prayer of the brothers can do great things. And now he traveled by land, wanting to benefit even those who saw him on his journey. When they were in a hurry they sailed, but not now. “And he went through Syria and Cilicia, strengthening the churches. Then he came to Derbe and Lystra” (verse 41). Notice Paul’s wisdom: he does not go on to other cities before he has visited those that had received the word. It is folly to run about at random. Let us do this too: let us teach those who came first, first, so that they do not become a hindrance to those who are to come after. [h]

“And look, a certain disciple was there, named Timothy, the son of a Jewish woman who was a believer, but his father was a Greek. He was well spoken of by the brothers at Lystra and Iconium. Paul wanted him to go out with him, and he took him and circumcised him because of the Jews who were in those places, for they all knew that his father was a Greek” (Acts 16, verses 1 to 3). Paul’s wisdom is truly amazing! The man who had fought so many battles over circumcision, who left nothing untried for this end and did not give up until he had won his point, now that the decree is settled, circumcises the disciple! He not only does not forbid others; he does this himself. “Paul wanted him,” it says, “to go out with him.”

And the wonder is this: that he even took him on as his companion. “Because of the Jews,” it says, “who were in those places,” for they would not have put up with hearing the word from an uncircumcised man. Nothing could be wiser. So in everything he looked to what was useful; he did nothing out of personal preference. And what then? Notice the result: he circumcised in order to do away with circumcision, for he was preaching the decrees of the apostles. “And as they went through the cities, they handed on to them the decrees to keep, which had been decided by the apostles and elders at Jerusalem. And so the churches were strengthened in the faith, and grew in number daily” (verses 4 and 5). Do you see the fighting, and through the fighting, the building up? Not attacked by others, but themselves doing things that ran against each other, they built up the church in this way! They introduced a decree not to circumcise, and he circumcises! “And so the churches,” it says, “were strengthened in the faith” — and in numbers: “they grew,” it says, “in number daily.” [j]

Then he does not go on staying with them, as though he had come only to visit them. What does he do? He goes further. “Now when they had gone through Phrygia and the region of Galatia, and had been forbidden by the Holy Spirit to preach the word in Asia” (verse 6) — having left Phrygia and Galatia, they hurried on into the interior. For, it says, “When they had come to Mysia, they tried to go into Bithynia, but the Spirit did not allow them” (verse 7). Why they were forbidden, he does not say; but that they were forbidden, he does say. He teaches us to obey and not to ask questions, and he shows that they did many things as human beings. “And the Spirit,” it says, “did not allow them; and passing by Mysia they came down to Troas” (verse 8). “And a vision appeared to Paul in the night: a man of Macedonia stood there, pleading with him and saying, Come over into Macedonia and help us” (verse 9).

Why a vision, and not the Holy Spirit? Since he had forbidden the other course, he would draw them over even in this way. For he appeared in dreams to the holy men too; and at the beginning Paul himself saw in a vision “a man coming in and laying his hands on him” (Acts 9, verse 12). In this way Christ also appears to him, saying, “You must stand before Caesar.” So for this reason too he draws him there: so that the preaching might spread. This is why he was forbidden to stay long in the other cities: Christ was urging him on. For those places were to enjoy the help of John for a long time, and perhaps did not greatly need Paul; but he had to go over there. And now he crosses over and sets out. “And after he had seen the vision, we immediately tried to go into Macedonia, concluding for certain that the Lord had called us to preach the good news to them” (verse 10). Then the writer also names the places, as one telling a history, and shows where Paul made a stay — in the larger cities — and where he passed the rest by. “So setting sail from Troas, we ran a straight course to Samothrace, and the next day to Neapolis, and from there to Philippi, which is the leading city of that part of Macedonia, and a colony” (verses 11 and 12). It is a high distinction for a city to be a colony. “And we stayed in this city some days.”

But let us go over again what has been said. “And after some days Paul said,” and so on (Acts 15, verse 36).

He put before Barnabas the need for their going out, saying, “Let us visit the cities in which we preached the word.” “But Paul begged,” and so on (verse 38). [k]

And yet a man who was about to bring an accusation had no need to beg.

This happens even where the parties are God and human beings: the man pleads, and God is angry. For instance, when he says, “If her father had spit in her face” (Numbers 12, verse 14); and again, “Let me alone, and in my anger I will blot out this people” (Exodus 32, verse 10). And Samuel, when he mourns for Saul (First Samuel 15, verse 35). Great good is done by both. So too here: the one is angry, the other is not. The same thing happens in matters that concern us as well. And the sharp contention was with good reason, so that Mark might learn a lesson, and so that the affair would not look like mere playacting.

For we must not think that the man who commands, “Do not let the sun go down on your anger” (Ephesians 4, verse 26), would have been angry over a matter like this. Nor must we think that the man who gave way on every occasion would not have given way here — the man who loved Paul so much that earlier he had gone looking for him in Tarsus, brought him to the apostles, and taken charge of the alms together with him, and together with him the business of the decree. Rather, they arrange things so that by their separation they instruct and bring to maturity those who needed the teaching that was to come from them. And he rebukes others, yes, but he tells them to do good to all people, as in fact he does elsewhere, saying, “But you, do not grow weary in doing good” (Second Thessalonians 3, verse 13). We do this too in our ordinary practice. Here it seems to me that others too were displeased with Paul in the same way; and so, taking them aside as well, he does everything, encouraging and warning them.

Harmony can do much; love can do much. Even if what you ask for is a great thing, even if you are unworthy, you will be heard because of the intent of your heart. Do not be afraid. [m]

“He went,” it says, “through” the cities. “And look, there was a disciple named Timothy, who was well spoken of by the brothers at Lystra and Iconium” (Acts 15, verse 41, and 16, verse 1). Great was the grace of Timothy. When Barnabas left, Paul finds another man equal to him. Of him he says, “Remembering your tears, and your sincere faith, which lived first in your grandmother Lois and in your mother Eunice” (Second Timothy 1, verse 5). His father remained a Gentile, and that is why Timothy had not been circumcised. Notice that the law had already been broken.

Or, if that is not so, I suppose he was born after the preaching of the good news began — but perhaps that is not so. He was about to make him a bishop, and it was not fitting that he should be uncircumcised. And this was no small matter, since after so long a time it was a stumbling block; for “from childhood,” he says, “you have known the holy Scriptures” (Second Timothy 3, verse 15). “And as they went through the cities, they handed on to them the decrees to keep” (Acts 16, verse 4). For until then there had been no need for the Gentiles to keep anything of the kind.

The beginning of the law’s being set aside was this: the Gentiles did not keep these things and were none the worse for it, and were in no way inferior in faith; and soon, of their own will, they gave up the law. So, since he was about to preach, he circumcised Timothy, so as not to strike the Jews a double blow. And yet Timothy was only half a Jew by birth, his father being a Greek. But since a great point had been won for the cause of the Gentiles, he did not mind this; the word had to be spread. That is why he circumcised him with his own hands. “And so the churches were strengthened in the faith.” Do you notice here too how a great good comes of acting against his own aim? “And grew in number daily” (verse 5). Do you see that the circumcising not only did no harm, but was even of the greatest service? [n]

“And a vision appeared to Paul in the night” (verse 9). Not by angels now, as to Philip, as to Cornelius. How then? It is shown to him now by a vision — in a more human way, not as before (that is, in verses 6 and 7), in a more divine way. For where compliance comes more easily, the thing is done in a more human way; but where great force was needed, in a more divine way. Since he was only being urged to preach, it is shown to him in a dream for that purpose. But to hold back from preaching was something he could not easily bear; for that purpose the Holy Spirit reveals it to him. So it was then with Peter too: “Get up, go down” (Acts 10, verse 20). Of course, the Holy Spirit did not act where the thing was otherwise easy; but here even a dream was enough for him. And to Joseph too, as one readily moved to obey, the appearance comes in a dream (Matthew 1, verse 20, and 2, verses 13 and 19), but to the others in a waking vision — so to Cornelius, and to Paul himself (Acts 10, verse 3, and 9, verse 3).

“And look, a man of Macedonia,” and so on — not simply giving an order, but “pleading,” and from the very people who needed healing. “Concluding for certain,” it says, “that the Lord had called us” (verse 10). That is, inferring it from the fact that Paul saw it and no one else, from their having been “forbidden by the Spirit,” and from their being at the border: from all these they concluded it. “So setting sail from Troas, we ran a straight course,” and so on (verse 11). That is, even the voyage made it plain, for there was no delay. It became the very root of Macedonia. It was not always by way of “sharp contention” that the Holy Spirit worked; but this rapid progress of the word was a sign that the thing was more than human.

And yet it does not say that Barnabas was exasperated, but, “A sharp contention arose between them” (verse 39). If the one was not exasperated, neither was the other. [p]

Knowing this, let us not merely pick these things out, but let us learn from them and be taught by them, for they were not written without a purpose. It is a great evil not to know the Scriptures: we get harm from the very things we ought to get good from. In the same way, medicines with healing power often ruin and destroy through the ignorance of those who use them; and armor meant to protect becomes itself the cause of death unless a man knows how to put it on. But the reason is that we look for everything except what is good for ourselves.

In the case of a house, we look for what is good for it; we would not put up with seeing it decaying with age, or tottering, or damaged by storms. But for our soul we take no account. Even if we should see its foundations rotting, or its walls and roof, we take no account of it. Again, if we own animals without reason, we look for what is good for them: we call in grooms and horse doctors and everyone else; we see to their stabling, and we give orders to those in charge of them not to drive them at random or carelessly, not to take them out at night at the wrong hours, and not to sell off their fodder. We have laid down many rules for the good of our animals without reason; but for the good of our soul no account is taken. But why do I speak of animals without reason that are useful to us? Many people keep little birds that are good for nothing except simply to amuse, and there are many rules even about them; nothing is neglected or left in disorder. We take care of everything rather than of ourselves.

So we make ourselves worth less than anything. If someone calls us “dog” as an insult, we are annoyed; but while we insult ourselves, not in word but in deed, and do not give our soul even as much care as we give our dogs, we think it no great harm. Do you see how everything is full of darkness? How many people take care of their dogs so that they will not be filled with more than the proper food, so that they may be keen and fit for hunting, spurred on by hunger and want! But for themselves they take no care to avoid luxury. They teach animals without reason to practice philosophy, while they let themselves sink into the savagery of those very animals. The thing is a riddle. “And where are these philosophical animals of yours?” There are such. Tell me, do you not count it philosophy when a dog gnawed by hunger, after it has hunted and caught its prey, keeps off the food, and though it sees its meal lying ready in front of it, with hunger driving it on, still waits for its master? Be ashamed of yourselves! Teach your stomachs to practice such philosophy. You have no excuse. When you have been able to plant such philosophy, such mastery of self, in a nature without reason, which neither speaks nor hears reason, will you not be far better able to plant it in yourself? For it is plain that this is the result of human care, not of nature; otherwise all dogs would have this habit. So become like the dogs.

It is you who force me to fetch my examples from there. They ought to be drawn from heavenly things. But if I speak of those, you say, “Those are too great”; so I say nothing of heavenly things. Again, if I speak of Paul, you say, “He was an apostle”; so I do not mention Paul either. If I speak of a man, you say, “That person could do it”; so I do not mention even a man, but an animal without reason — and one that does not have this habit by nature, so that you cannot say it achieved this by nature and not, as is the fact, by choice. And what is wonderful, it is a choice not acquired by itself but the result of your care. The creature gives no thought to the fatigue, to the wear and tear it has suffered in running down the prey, no thought to the fact that it made the catch by its own toil. It throws aside all such considerations, keeps its master’s command, and shows itself stronger than the cravings of its appetite. “True — because it expects to be praised; it expects to get a bigger meal.” Then tell yourself this: the dog, in hope of a future pleasure, despises the one at hand, while you will not, in hope of future good things, despise the ones at hand. The dog knows that if it tastes that food at the wrong time and against its master’s will, it will lose that, and will not even get the portion set aside for it, but will receive blows instead of food. But you cannot even see this; and what the dog has learned by force of habit, you do not manage to acquire even from reason. Let us imitate the dogs.

Hawks and eagles are also said to do the same thing: what the dogs do with hares and deer, these do with birds; and they too act from a philosophy learned from human beings. These facts are enough to condemn us, enough to convict us. To mention another thing: those skilled in breaking horses take them wild, fierce, kicking and biting, and in a short time so discipline them that even when the trainer is not there it is a pleasure to ride them, so well ordered are their paces. But the paces of the soul may be entirely disordered, and no one cares. It leaps about and kicks, and its rider is dragged along the ground like a child and cuts a most disgraceful figure; and yet no one puts curbs and hobbles and bits on it, or mounts on it the skilled rider — Christ, I mean. That is why everything is turned upside down.

When you teach dogs to master the craving of the belly, and tame the fury in a lion and the unruliness of horses, and teach birds to speak clearly, how inconsistent must it be to plant the achievements of reason in natures without reason, and to bring the passions of creatures without reason into natures endowed with reason? There is no excuse for us, none. All who have succeeded in mastering their passions will accuse us, both believers and unbelievers — for even unbelievers have succeeded — yes, and wild beasts and dogs, not only human beings. And we will accuse ourselves, since we succeed when we want to, but when we are lazy we are dragged away. For many even of those who live very wicked lives have often changed themselves when they wished to.

But the cause, as I said, is that we go about looking for what is good for other things, not what is good for ourselves. If you build a splendid house, you know what is good for the house, not what is good for yourself. If you get a beautiful garment, you know what is good for the body, not for yourself. And if you get a fine horse, it is the same. No one makes it his aim that his soul should be beautiful; and yet when it is beautiful, there is no need of any of those things, just as, if it is not beautiful, they are of no use. [r]

Think of a bride. There may be rooms hung with tapestry worked with gold; there may be bands of the loveliest and most beautiful women; there may be roses and garlands, a handsome bridegroom, maidservants and women friends, and everyone around them good-looking. Yet if the bride herself is full of ugliness, all of that is no use. On the other hand, if she were beautiful, there would be no loss from the lack of those things — just the opposite. With an ugly bride, those things would make her look all the uglier, while the beautiful one would look all the more beautiful. In just the same way the soul, when she is beautiful, not only needs none of those additions, but they even cast a shadow over her beauty. For we will see the philosopher shine not so much in wealth as in poverty. In the first case many will put it down to his riches, and say that he is not above riches. But when he lives with poverty for his partner, and shines through it all, and will not let himself be forced into anything shameful, then no one claims a share with him in the crown of philosophy.

So let us make our soul beautiful, if we really want to be rich. What profit is there when your mules are white and plump and in good condition, while you who are drawn by them are thin and scabby and ugly? What is the gain when your carpets are soft and beautiful, full of rich embroidery and art, while your soul goes about clothed in rags, or even naked and filthy? What is the gain when the horse’s paces are beautifully ordered, more like dancing than walking, while the rider, with his retinue following like a chorus and decked out in more than bridal finery, is more crooked than the lame and has no more control of his hands and feet than drunkards and madmen? Tell me: if someone gave you a beautiful horse and twisted your body out of shape, what would be the profit? Now your soul is twisted out of shape, and do you not care?

At last, I beg you, let us take care of ourselves. Let us not make ourselves worth less than everything else. If anyone insults us with words, we are annoyed and upset; but when we insult ourselves as we do by our deeds, we give it no thought. Let us come to our senses at last, even if late, so that by taking great care of our soul and holding fast to virtue we may be able to obtain the eternal good things, through the grace and mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, power and honor, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.