Homily 40 — Acts 18, verse 18, to 19, verse 7

John Chrysostom: Homilies on the New Testament

Homilies on the Acts of the Apostles

Homily 40 — Acts 18, verse 18, to 19, verse 7

Acts 18, verse 18, to 19, verse 7

“And Paul after this stayed there a good while longer, and then took leave of the brothers and sailed from there for Syria, and with him Priscilla and Aquila, having shaved his head in Cenchreae, for he had a vow.”

See how the law was breaking up! See how they were bound by conscience! For this was a Jewish custom: to shave the head in keeping with a vow. But then there ought to have been a sacrifice as well (Acts 21, verse 26), and here there was none.

“Having stayed a good while longer”: that is, after the beating of Sosthenes. For he had to stay on and comfort them about what had happened. “He sailed for Syria.” Why does he want to go to Syria again? Because it was there that “the disciples were ordered to be called Christians” (Acts 11, verse 26); there that he had been “commended to the grace of God” (Acts 14, verse 26); there that he had accomplished such things for the teaching. “And with him Priscilla” — look, a woman too — “and Aquila.” But these he left at Ephesus, and with good reason: so that they might teach. For having been with him so long, they had been learning a great deal. And yet for the present he did not draw them away from their customs as Jews.

“And he came to Ephesus and left them there; but he himself went into the synagogue and reasoned with the Jews. When they asked him to stay a longer time with them, he did not consent, but said goodbye to them, saying, I must by all means keep this coming feast in Jerusalem.” That was why he had been kept from coming into Asia: he was pressing on toward something urgent. So notice him here: they beg him to stay, but because he cannot do as they ask, being in a hurry to leave, “he said goodbye to them.” Yet he did not simply walk away from them; he left them with a promise: “But I will return to you again, if God wills. And he sailed from Ephesus” (verses 19 to 21).

“And when he had landed at Caesarea, and gone up and greeted the church, he went down to Antioch. And after he had spent some time there, he left and went through the whole region of Galatia and Phrygia in order, strengthening all the disciples” (verses 22 and 23). He came again to the places he had visited before. “And a certain Jew named Apollos, a native of Alexandria, an eloquent man and mighty in the Scriptures, came to Ephesus” (verse 24). Look, even learned men are eager now, and from this point on the disciples travel abroad. Do you notice how the preaching is spreading?

“This man had been instructed in the way of the Lord; and being fervent in the Spirit, he spoke and taught diligently the things of the Lord, knowing only the baptism of John. And he began to speak boldly in the synagogue. When Aquila and Priscilla heard him, they took him to themselves and explained the way of God to him more perfectly” (verses 25 and 26). If this man knew only the baptism of John, how was he “fervent in the Spirit”? For the Spirit was not given in that way. And if those who came after him needed the baptism of Christ, he would need it much more.

What, then, is to be said? For it is not without purpose that the writer has strung the two incidents together. It seems to me that this man was one of the hundred and twenty who were baptized along with the apostles; or, if not, then what happened in the case of Cornelius happened in his case too. And yet he is not baptized either. So that expression, “they explained more perfectly,” seems to me to mean this: that he also needed to be baptized. For the others, the twelve, knew nothing accurately, not even the facts about Jesus. And it is likely that he did in fact receive baptism. But if these disciples of John received baptism again after that baptism, was this needed for the disciples too? And why the need of water? These men are very different from him: men who did not even know whether there was a Holy Spirit.

“He was fervent,” then, “in the Spirit, knowing only the baptism of John”; but these “explained it to him more perfectly. And when he wanted to cross over into Achaia, the brothers wrote, urging the disciples to welcome him. When he arrived, he greatly helped those who had believed through grace” (verse 27). So he wanted to leave for Achaia, and they encouraged him in it, and gave him letters as well. “When he arrived, he greatly helped those who had believed through grace, for he powerfully refuted the Jews, and that in public, showing by the Scriptures that Jesus was the Christ” (verse 28).

“And it came to pass that while Apollos was at Corinth, Paul, having passed through the upper regions” — meaning what we have read about Caesarea and the other places — “came to Ephesus,” and finding certain disciples (Acts 19, verse 1), “he said to them, Have you received the Holy Spirit since you believed? And they said to him, We have not so much as heard whether there is a Holy Spirit. And he said to them, Into what, then, were you baptized? And they said, Into John’s baptism.”

“Then Paul said, John indeed baptized with the baptism of repentance, telling the people that they should believe in the one who would come after him, that is, in Christ Jesus” (verses 2 to 4). That they did not even believe in Christ is plain from his saying, “that they should believe in the one who was to come after him.” And he did not say, “The baptism of John is nothing,” but, “It is incomplete.” Nor does he actually add this in so many words; but he taught them, and many received the Holy Spirit. “When they heard this, they were baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus. And when Paul had laid his hands on them, the Holy Spirit came upon them, and they spoke in tongues and prophesied. And all the men were about twelve” (verses 5 to 7). So it is likely that they had the Spirit, but it did not show. “And all the men were about twelve.”

“And they came to Ephesus, and he left them there” (Acts 18, verse 19). For he did not want to take them around with him, but left them at Ephesus. Later they lived at Corinth, and he bears high testimony to them, and when he writes to the Romans he greets them (Romans 16, verse 3). From this it seems to me that they afterward went back to Rome, in the time of Nero, being attached to the places from which they had been driven out in the time of Claudius. “But he himself went into the synagogue.” It seems to me that the faithful still met there, for they did not withdraw them from it at once. “And when they asked him to stay, he did not consent” (verses 20 and 21), for he was hurrying to Caesarea. “And having arrived at Caesarea,” and so on, “passing through the region of Galatia and Phrygia, strengthening all the disciples” (verses 22 and 23). Through these regions too he merely passes again, just long enough to establish them by his presence.

“And a certain Jew named Apollos,” and so on (verse 24). For he was an earnest man, traveling abroad for this very purpose. The apostle wrote of him, “Now concerning our brother Apollos” (First Corinthians 16, verse 12). “When Aquila and Priscilla heard him,” and so on (verse 26). It was not for nothing that he left them at Ephesus: the Spirit arranged it so for Apollos’s sake, so that he might go on to attack Corinth with greater force. What can be the reason that they did nothing to him, while Paul is the one they assault? They knew that Paul was the leader, and great was the man’s name.

“And when he wanted to cross over into Achaia” (verse 27) — that is, in faith; he did everything by faith — “the brothers wrote,” and so on. Nowhere envy, nowhere an evil eye! Aquila teaches, or rather, this man lets himself be taught. He wanted to leave, and they send letters. “For he powerfully refuted the Jews, and that in public,” and so on (verse 28). By refuting them “in public” he showed his boldness; by the clearness of his arguments, his power; by refuting them from the Scriptures, his skill and learning. For boldness by itself contributes nothing where there is no power, nor power where there is no boldness.

“He powerfully refuted,” it says. “And it came to pass,” and so on (Acts 19, verse 1).

But how did these men, living in Ephesus, come to have the baptism of John? Probably they had been visiting Jerusalem at the time John was preaching, and did not even know Jesus. And Paul does not say to them, “Do you believe in Jesus?” but what? “Have you received the Holy Spirit?” (verse 2). He knew that they had not, but he wants them to say it themselves, so that once they have learned what they lack, they may ask for it. “John indeed baptized,” and so on (verse 4). From the baptism itself John prophesies; and Paul leads them to see that this is what John’s baptism meant: “that they should believe in the one who was to come.” In what kind of person? “I indeed baptize you with water, but he who comes after me will baptize you with the Holy Spirit” (Matthew 3, verse 11). “And when Paul,” it says, “had laid his hands on them, the Holy Spirit came upon them, and they spoke in tongues and prophesied” (verse 6). The gift is twofold: tongues and prophesying.

This shows an important teaching: that the baptism of John is incomplete. And he does not say a baptism “of forgiveness,” but “of repentance.” What then? These men did not have the Spirit; they were not as fervent, not even instructed. And why did Apollos not receive baptism? The case seems to me to be this. The man’s boldness was great. “He taught diligently the things concerning Jesus,” but he needed more thorough teaching. So although he did not know everything, by his zeal he drew the Holy Spirit to himself, in the same way as Cornelius and those with him.

Perhaps many of you wish, “If only we had the baptism of John now!” But if we did, many would still be careless about a life of virtue, and it might be thought that each person pursued virtue for the sake of this, and not for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. There would be many false prophets, for then “those who are approved” would not be very “evident” (First Corinthians 11, verse 19).

Just as “blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed” (John 20, verse 29), so too are those who believe without signs. “Unless you see signs,” Christ says, “you will not believe” (John 4, verse 48). For we lose nothing by having no miracles, if only we pay attention to ourselves. We have the sum and substance of the good things. Through baptism we received the forgiveness of sins, holiness, a share in the Spirit, adoption, eternal life. What more do you want? Signs? But signs come to an end.

The Greatest Is Love

You have “faith, hope, love,” the things that remain. Seek these; these are greater than signs. Nothing is equal to love. For “greater than all,” he says, “is love” (compare First Corinthians 13, verse 13). But now love is in danger. Only its name is left, while the reality is nowhere to be seen; instead we are divided from one another. What, then, is one to do to unite us again? For finding fault is easy; but how one may create friendship — this is what needs study: how we may bring the scattered members together.

For suppose we have one church, or one teaching: still, this is not the main thing. No, the evil is that in these very things we have no fellowship, “living at peace,” as the apostle says, “with all people” (Romans 12, verse 18); on the contrary, we are at odds with one another. Suppose we are not fighting every day; do not look at that, but at this: that we do not have love either, genuine and unwavering. There is need of bandages and oil. Let us keep it in mind that love is the badge of Christ’s disciples; that without it everything else is worth nothing; that it is an easy task, if we are willing.

“Yes, we know all this. But how are we to set about it, so that it may be achieved? What are we to do to bring it about? In what way are we to love one another?”

First, let us put away the things that overthrow love, and then we will build it up. Let no one hold a grudge, no one envy, no one rejoice in another’s misfortunes. These are the things that hinder love; and so the things that create it are of the opposite kind. For it is not enough to put away what hinders; what builds up must also be present. Now Sirach tells us the things that destroy friendship, but does not go on to speak of the things that make for union. “Reproach,” he says, “and the revealing of a secret, and a treacherous wound” (Sirach 22, verse 22).

But in speaking of the people of those times these things might well be named, since they were fleshly; in our case, far be it that they should even be named. We do not draw our appeals to you from these things, but from the others. For us there is nothing good without friendship. Let there be good things without number — whether wealth or luxury — what is the benefit without friendship? There is no possession equal to this, even in the affairs of this life, just as there is nothing worse than being hated. “Love covers a multitude of sins” (First Peter 4, verse 8), but hatred suspects sins even where there are none. It is not enough not to be an enemy; no, one must also love. Remember that Christ has commanded it, and that is enough. Even trouble makes friendships and draws people together.

“What, then, now, when there is no trouble? Tell us, how are we to become friends?” Don’t you have other friends, I ask? In what way are you their friends? How do you remain so?

To begin with, let no one have any enemy; this in itself is no small matter. Let no one envy; it is impossible to find fault with the man who does not envy.

How, then, are we to come to feel warmly toward one another? What makes people love a person? Beauty of appearance. Then let us too make our souls beautiful, and we will be lovable to one another. For of course we need not only to love, but also to be loved. Let us first achieve this, that we may be loved, and the other will be easy. How are we to act so as to be loved? Let us become beautiful, and let us do this so that we may always have people who love us. Let no one make it his study to get money, to get slaves, to get houses, so much as to be loved and to have a good name. “A name is better than much wealth.” For the one remains, the other perishes; and the one can be acquired, the other cannot. For whoever has gotten a bad name will lay it aside only with difficulty; but by means of his good name even a poor man may quickly become rich. Suppose one man has ten thousand talents, and another a hundred friends: the second is richer in resources than the first. So let us not merely do this, but let us work at it as a kind of trade.

“And how can we?” “A sweet mouth multiplies its friends, and a gracious tongue.” Let us get a mouth that speaks well, and pure manners. A man cannot be like this and not become known.

We all live in one world; we are all fed by the same fruits. But these are small matters: by the same mysteries we share in the same spiritual food. Surely these are reasons for loving! Notice how many grounds for friendship those outside have devised: sharing a craft or trade, living as neighbors, being related. But stronger than all these are the impulses and ties we have among ourselves. This Table, more than anything else, is fitted to shame us into friendliness.

Yet many of us who come to it do not even know one another. Someone may say the reason is that there are so many of us. Not at all; it is only our own sluggish indifference. Once there were three thousand (Acts 2, verse 41), there were five thousand (Acts 4, verse 4), and yet they all had one soul. But now each does not know his brother, and is not ashamed to lay the blame on the number, because it is so great! Yet the man who has many friends cannot be conquered by anyone; he is stronger than any tyrant. The tyrant is not as safe with his bodyguards as this man is with his friends. And this man is more glorious than he: for the tyrant is guarded by his own slaves, but this man by his equals; the tyrant by men who are unwilling and afraid of him, this man by men who are willing and without fear. And here too is a wonderful thing to see: many in one, and one in many.

Just as in a harp the sounds are different but the harmony is not, and all of them together give out one harmony and one concord — I wish I could bring you into such a city, if it were possible, where all were one soul! Then you would see a concord more harmonious than all the harmony of harp and flute. But the musician is the power of love. It is love that strikes out the sweet melody, singing all the while a strain in which no note is out of tune. This strain delights both the angels and God, the Lord of angels; this strain rouses the whole audience in heaven to listen; this even lulls the passions to sleep — indeed, it does not even let them rise, but deep is the stillness. For as in a theater, when the band of musicians plays, everyone listens in a hush and there is no noise, so among friends, while love strikes the strings, all the passions are still and laid to sleep, like wild beasts charmed and made harmless. Just so, where hatred is, everything is the opposite of this.

But let us say nothing just now about hatred; let us speak of friendship. Even if you let slip some careless, hasty word, there is no one to pounce on you, but everyone forgives you. Even if you do something hasty, no one puts the worse construction on it, but every allowance is made. Everyone is quick to stretch out a hand to the one who is slipping; everyone wants him to stand. It is truly an impregnable wall, this friendship: a wall that not even the devil himself, much less men, can overpower. The man who has gained many friends cannot fall into danger. Where love is, there is no room to find cause for anger, but only for pleasant feeling; no room to find cause for envy; none to find occasion for resentment. Notice how in all things, both spiritual and of this life, he accomplishes everything with ease. What, I ask you, can be equal to this man? He is like a city walled on every side, and the other like a city without walls. It is great wisdom to be able to be a maker of friendship! Take away friendship, and you have taken away everything; you have thrown everything into confusion. But if even the likeness of friendship has such great power, what must the reality itself be?

So let us, I beg you, make friends for ourselves, and let each of us make this his craft.

“But look, I do work at this, but the other man does not.” All the greater your reward. “True, but that makes the thing harder.” How so, I ask? Look, I testify and declare to you: if only ten of you would bind yourselves together and make this your work — as the apostles made preaching theirs, and the prophets made teaching theirs, so we the making of friends — great would be the reward.

Let us make royal portraits for ourselves. For if this is the common badge of disciples, we are doing a greater work than if we were to gain the power to raise the dead. The diadem and the purple mark the emperor, and where these are missing, even if his clothing is all gold, the emperor is not yet recognized. So now you are making known your family line. Make people friends to yourself, and friends to others. No one who is loved will want to hate you. Let us learn the colors: with what ingredients they are mixed, and with what tints this portrait is composed. Let us be approachable; let us not wait for our neighbors to make the first move.

Do not say, “If I see someone holding back, waiting for me to make the first move, I become worse than he is.” Rather, when you see this, get in ahead of him and put out his ill feeling. You see a man who is sick, and you add to his illness? Above all, let us make sure of this: “in honor to prefer one another,” “to count others better than oneself” (Romans 12, verse 10). Do not think this lowers you. If you give another the preference in honor, you have honored yourself more, drawing to yourself still higher esteem. On every occasion let us yield the first place to others. Let us keep in mind nothing of the evil done to us; but if any good has been done, let us remember only that.

Nothing makes a man a friend so much as a gracious tongue, a mouth that speaks good things, a soul free from self-exaltation, a contempt for empty glory, a disregard of honor. If we secure these things, we will be able to become unconquerable against the snares of the devil, and, having carried through the pursuit of virtue with strictness, to attain the good things promised to those who love him, through the grace and mercy 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.