Homilies on the Acts of the Apostles
Homily 47 — Acts 21, verse 39, to 22, verse 16
Acts 21, verse 39, to 22, verse 16
“But Paul said, ‘I am a man who is a Jew, of Tarsus, a city in Cilicia, a citizen of no insignificant city; and I beg you, allow me to speak to the people.’ And when he had given him permission, Paul stood on the stairs and motioned with his hand to the people. And when there was a great silence, he spoke to them in the Hebrew language, saying:”
Notice how, when he is dealing with those outside, he does not refuse to make use of the help the laws give him. Here he impresses the tribune with the name of his city. And again, elsewhere he said, “Publicly, uncondemned, Romans as we are, they have thrown us into prison” (Acts 16, verse 37). For since the tribune had said, “Are you that Egyptian?” he at once steered him away from that suspicion. Then, so that he may not be thought to deny his nation, he says at once, “I am a Jew.” Does he mean his religion? What then? Did he deny that he was a Christian? Far from it! He was both a Jew and a Christian, keeping the things he ought to keep, since he, more than anyone, obeyed the law — as in fact he elsewhere calls himself “under the law to Christ” (First Corinthians 9, verse 21).
What does this mean, I ask you? The man who believes in Christ. And when he is speaking with Peter, he says, “We, who are Jews by nature” (Galatians 2, verse 15). “But I beg you, allow me to speak to the people.” And this is a proof that he is not telling lies, since he takes them all as his witnesses.
Notice again how mildly he speaks. This, again, is a very strong argument that he is guilty of no crime: that he is so ready to make his defense, and wants to come and speak to the Jewish people. See how composed the man is!
Notice how the thing was arranged by God’s providence. If the tribune had not come, if he had not bound him, Paul would not have asked to speak in his own defense, and he would not have been given the silence he was given. “Standing on the stairs.” Then there was the further advantage of the place: he had a high spot from which to address them — and in chains, too! What sight could equal this: to see Paul, bound with two chains, addressing the people! To see how he was not the least bit shaken, not the least bit confused; how, seeing so great a crowd all hostile to him, with the tribune standing by, he first of all made them drop their anger; and then how wisely he goes about it!
What he does in his Letter to the Hebrews he does here too: first he draws them by the sound of the mother tongue they shared, then by his very mildness. “He spoke to them,” it says, “in the Hebrew language, saying, ‘Men, brothers, and fathers, hear my defense, which I now make to you’” (Acts 22, verse 1). Notice his way of addressing them, so free of all flattery and at the same time so full of gentleness.
For he does not say “Masters” or “Lords,” but “Brothers,” the word they liked best. “I am no stranger to you,” he says, “and not against you.”
“Men,” he says, “brothers, and fathers”: “fathers” a title of honor, “brothers” one of kinship. “Hear,” he says, “my—” He does not say “teaching” or “speech,” but “my defense, which I now make to you.” He puts himself in the position of one pleading for mercy. “And when they heard that he spoke to them in the Hebrew language, they became even quieter” (verse 2). Do you see how speaking the same language subdued them? In fact, they held that language in a kind of awe.
Notice also how he prepares the way for what he is going to say, beginning like this: “I am indeed a man who is a Jew, born in Tarsus, a city in Cilicia, yet brought up in this city at the feet of Gamaliel, and taught according to the strict manner of the law of the fathers, and was zealous toward God, as you all are this day” (verse 3). “I am a man,” he says, “who is a Jew” — the thing they liked most of all to hear — “born in Tarsus, a city of Cilicia.” So that they may not think him to be of another nation after all, he adds his religion: “but brought up in this city.” He shows how great his zeal for the worship was: he left his native city, so great a city and so far away as well, and chose to be brought up here for the sake of the law. See how from the very beginning he attached himself to the law.
But he says this not only to defend himself before them, but to show that it was not by human design that he was led to preach the good news, but by a divine power. Otherwise, having been educated like that, he would not have changed suddenly. If he had been one of the ordinary run of people, it might have been reasonable to suspect this; but since he was one of those most bound to the law of all, it was not likely that he would change lightly and without some strong compulsion.
But perhaps someone may say: “Having been brought up here proves nothing. What if you came here to trade, or for some other reason?” That is why he says, “at the feet of Gamaliel”: and not simply “by Gamaliel,” but “at his feet,” showing his perseverance, his diligence, his eagerness to hear, and his great reverence for the man.
“Taught according to the strict manner of the law of the fathers.” Not simply “the law,” but “the law of the fathers,” showing that he was like this from the beginning, and not merely one who knew the law. All this seems, indeed, to be said on their side, but in fact it told against them, since he, who knew the law, left it. “Yes, but what if you did know the law accurately, and yet do not stand up for it, and do not even love it?” “Being a zealot,” he adds — not simply one who knew it. Then, since the praise he had given himself was high, he makes it theirs as well as his own, adding, “as you all are this day.” For he shows that they are not acting out of any human motive, but out of zeal for God. In this way he pleases them, wins over their minds beforehand, and gets a hold on them in a way that did no harm.
Then he brings forward proofs as well, saying, “And I persecuted this Way to the death, binding and delivering into prisons both men and women, as the high priest also bears me witness, and the whole council of the elders” (verses 4 and 5). How does this appear? As witnesses he brings forward the high priest himself and the elders. He does say, “being a zealot, as you are”; but he shows by his actions that he went beyond them.
“For I did not wait for a chance to seize them: I both stirred up the priests and undertook journeys. I did not confine my attacks to men, as you did; I extended them to women too: ‘binding and delivering into prisons both men and women.’”
This testimony cannot be disputed; the unbelief of the Jews is left without excuse. See how many witnesses he brings forward: the elders, the high priest, and those in the city. Notice his defense: it is not out of cowardly fear for himself that he pleads. No, it is to teach and instruct. If his hearers had not been stones, they would have felt the force of what he was saying.
Up to this point he had them themselves as witnesses; the rest, however, had no witnesses: “From whom I also received letters to the brothers, and went to Damascus, to bring those who were there in chains to Jerusalem to be punished. And it happened that, as I was on my way and had come near to Damascus about noon, suddenly a great light from heaven shone around me. And I fell to the ground, and heard a voice saying to me, ‘Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?’ And I answered, ‘Who are you, Lord?’ And he said to me, ‘I am Jesus of Nazareth, whom you are persecuting’” (verses 6, 7 and 8).
Well then, these very things ought to have been believed on the strength of what came before; otherwise he would not have gone through so complete a turnaround. You say: “But what if he is only making up a fine story?” Answer me this: why did he suddenly throw away all that zeal? Because he was looking for honor? Yet he got just the opposite. An easy life, perhaps? No, not that either. Something else, then? Why, it is beyond the power of thought to invent any other motive. So, leaving them to draw the conclusion for themselves, he tells the facts. “As I came near,” he says, “to Damascus, about noon.” See how overwhelming the light was!
You say: “What if he is only making up a fine story?” Those who were with him are witnesses: they led him by the hand, they saw the light. “And those who were with me saw the light indeed and were afraid, but they did not hear the voice of him who spoke to me” (verse 9). But in another place he says, “hearing the voice, but seeing no one” (Acts 9, verse 7). There is no contradiction. No, there were two voices, Paul’s and the Lord’s. In that place the writer means Paul’s voice, just as Paul here adds, “the voice of him who spoke to me.” “Seeing no one”: he does not say that they did not see the light, but “no one” — that is, no one speaking.
And it was right that it should be so, since it was fitting that he alone should be granted that voice. For if they too had heard it, the miracle would not have been so great. Since people of duller minds are more persuaded by sight, those men saw the light and were afraid. In fact, the light did not have as great an effect on them as on him, for it even blinded his eyes. By what happened to him, God gave them too an opportunity to recover their sight, if they had the mind to. It seems to me, at least, that their not believing was arranged by God’s providence, so that they might be witnesses beyond all objection. “And he said to me,” it says, “‘I am Jesus of Nazareth, whom you are persecuting’” (compare Acts 9, verse 5).
The name of the town, Nazareth, is rightly added too, so that they might recognize who he was; and indeed the apostles also spoke of him in this way (Acts 2, verse 22; Acts 4, verse 10; Acts 10, verse 38). And he himself bore witness that they were persecuting him.
“And those who were with me saw the light indeed and were afraid, but they did not hear the voice of him who spoke to me. And I said, ‘What shall I do, Lord?’ And the Lord said to me, ‘Get up and go into Damascus, and there you will be told of all the things that are appointed for you to do.’ And since I could not see because of the brightness of that light, I was led by the hand by those who were with me, and came into Damascus. And one Ananias, a devout man according to the law, well spoken of by all the Jews who lived there, came to me, and stood, and said to me, ‘Brother Saul, receive your sight.’ And that very hour I looked up at him.” “Go into the city,” it says, “and there you will be told of all that is appointed for you to do” (verses 10 to 13).
Look, here is yet another witness! And see how he makes him too beyond objection. “And one Ananias,” he says, “a devout man according to the law” — so far is he from being any kind of outsider! — “well spoken of by all the Jews who lived there.” “And that very hour I received my sight.” Then follows the testimony the facts themselves give.
Notice how it is woven together, of persons and of facts; and of persons both their own and outsiders: the priests, the elders, and his fellow travelers. The facts: what he did and what was done to him. And facts bear witness to facts, not persons only. Then Ananias, an outsider; then the fact itself, the recovery of his sight; then a great prophecy. “And he said, ‘The God of our fathers has chosen you, that you should know his will, and see the Righteous One’” (verse 14). “Of our fathers” is well said, to show that they themselves were not Jews but strangers to the law, and that it was not out of zeal for the law that they were acting.
“That you should know his will.” So then, this is his will. See how, in the form of a story, it is really teaching. “And see the Righteous One, and hear the voice of his mouth. For you will be his witness to all people of what you have seen and heard” (verse 15). “And see,” he says, “the Righteous One.” For the present he says no more than this: if he is righteous, they are guilty. “And hear the voice of his mouth.” See how high he raises the fact! “For you will be his witness” — for this reason: because you will not prove false to what you saw and heard — “of what you have seen and of what you have heard.” By means of both senses he lays claim to his faithfulness. “To all people. And now why do you wait? Get up and be baptized, and wash away your sins, calling on his name” (verse 16).
Here he has said a great thing. He did not say, “Be baptized in his name,” but, “calling on the name of Christ.” This shows that he is God, since it is not lawful to “call on” anyone except God. Then he shows too that he himself was not compelled: “I said,” he says, “‘What shall I do?’” Nothing is left without a witness. No, he brings forward the witness of a whole city, since they had seen him led by the hand. But see the prophecy fulfilled: “to all people,” it says. For he did become a witness to him, and a witness such as a witness ought to be: by what he suffered, by what he did, and by what he said.
Such witnesses we too ought to be, and not prove false to the things entrusted to us. I do not mean only doctrines, but also our way of life. For notice: because he had seen, because he had heard, he bears witness to all people, and nothing stopped him. We too bear witness that there is a resurrection and countless good things; we are bound to bear witness of this to all people. You will say: “Yes, and we do bear witness, and we do believe.” How so, when you act in the opposite way? Tell me: if someone called himself a Christian, and then fell away and sided with the Jews, would that testimony be enough? Not at all, for people would want the testimony that actions give. In just the same way, if we say that there is a resurrection and countless good things, and then despise those things and prefer the things here, who will believe us? It is not what we say but what we do that everyone looks at.
“You will be a witness,” it says, “to all people”: not only to the friendly, but to the unbelievers too. For that is what witnesses are for: not to persuade those who know, but those who do not. Let us be trustworthy witnesses. But how shall we be trustworthy? By the life we lead. The Jews attacked him; our passions attack us, urging us to renounce our testimony. But let us not obey them. We are witnesses from God. Christ is on trial, charged with not being God; he has sent us to bear witness to him. Let us bear witness and persuade those who are to decide the question. If we do not bear witness, we will have to answer for their error too. In a court of law, where worldly matters are in question, no one would accept a witness full of countless vices; much less here, where matters so great are to be weighed.
We say that we have heard Christ, and that we believe the things he has promised. They say: “Show it by your works. Your life bears witness to the opposite: that you do not believe.” Tell me, are we to look at the money-makers, the robbers, the greedy? To the people who mourn and wail, who build and busy themselves with all sorts of things, as though they were never going to die? “You do not believe that you will die, a thing so plain and obvious. How then shall we believe you when you bear witness?”
For there are — there really are — many people whose state of mind is just as if they were never going to die. When, in advanced old age, they set about building and planting, when will they ever take death into account? It will be no small punishment for us that we were called to bear witness, and could not bear witness to the things we have seen. We have seen angels with our eyes — yes, more clearly than those who saw them with bodily sight. We shall be witnesses to Christ.
For it is not only those we call “martyrs,” that is, witnesses, who are witnesses, but we ourselves as well. This is why they are called martyrs: because when they are ordered to renounce the faith, they endure everything so as to speak the truth. And we, when our passions order us to renounce it, let us not be overcome. Gold says: “Say that Christ is not Christ.” Then do not listen to it as though it were God, but despise its commands. The evil cravings “profess to know God, but in their works they deny him” (Titus 1, verse 16). This is not bearing witness but the opposite. And indeed, that others should deny him is nothing surprising; but that we, who have been called to bear witness, should deny him — that is a grievous and a terrible thing. This, more than anything, does the greatest harm to our cause. “It will turn out for you as a testimony,” he says (Luke 21, verse 13) — but that is when we ourselves stand firm in it.
If we all bore witness to Christ, we would quickly persuade the greater number of the pagans. The life we lead is a great thing, my beloved. A man may be as savage as a wild beast; he may openly condemn you for your doctrine; yet secretly he approves, yet he will praise, yet he will admire. For tell me, where can an excellent life come from? From no source except a divine power working in us. “What if there are pagans too who are like this?” If any of them anywhere is like this, it comes partly from nature, partly from empty glory. Do you want to learn what brilliance there is in a good life, what power to persuade it has? Many of the heretics have won the day in this way. Their doctrines are corrupt, yet most people, out of reverence for their life, did not go on to examine their teaching; and many, even while condemning them for their doctrine, revere them for their life. Not rightly, indeed; but still, that is how they feel toward them.
This is what has brought slander on the awe-inspiring teachings of our faith; this has turned everything upside down: that no one takes any account of living well. This does harm to the faith. We say that Christ is God. We bring forward countless other arguments, and this one among the rest: that he has persuaded all people to live rightly. But that is true of few. A bad life does harm to the teaching of the resurrection, of the immortality of the soul, of the judgment; and it drags many other false teachings along with it: fate, necessity, the denial of providence. For the soul, sunk in countless vices, tries to devise these things as comforts for itself, so that it may not be pained by having to reflect that there is a judgment, and that virtue and vice lie in our own power.
Such a life works countless evils. It makes people beasts, and more irrational than beasts; for the traits found in each separate kind of beast it has often gathered together in one man, and turned everything upside down. This is why the devil brought in the doctrine of fate; this is why he said that the world has no providence; this is why he puts forward his theory of good natures and evil natures, and of an evil that is uncreated, without beginning, and made of matter — in short, all the rest of it — so that he may ruin our life. For a man who lives such a life cannot recover himself from corrupt doctrines, or remain in a sound faith; of inevitable necessity he must take all this in. For my part, I do not think that among those who do not live rightly one could easily find any who do not hold countless satanic inventions: that there is a horoscope, that things happen at random, that everything is chance and accident.
So I beg you, let us take care to live well, so that we may not take in evil doctrines. Cain received as his punishment that he should be forever groaning and trembling (Genesis 4, verse 14). Such are the wicked. Conscious within themselves of countless evil deeds, they often start up out of their sleep; their thoughts are full of turmoil, their eyes full of alarm. Everything fills them with misgivings, everything frightens them. Their soul is full of painful foreboding and cowardly dread, shrunk together with helpless fear and trembling. Nothing is more unmanly than such a soul, nothing more empty. Like a madman, it has no command of itself.
It would be well for it if, enjoying calm and quiet, it could come to know its own nobility. But when everything terrifies it and throws it into turmoil — dreams, words, gestures, omens, all alike — when will it be able to look into itself, troubled and dazed as it is? So let us rid it of its fear; let us break its chains. For if there were no other punishment, what punishment could be worse than this: to live always in fear, never to feel confident, never to be at ease?
Knowing these things for certain, then, let us keep ourselves in a state of calm and be careful to practice virtue, so that, holding both sound doctrines and an upright life, we may pass through this present life without stumbling, and be able to attain the good things that God has promised to those who love him, through the grace and mercy of his only Son, with whom be glory, power and honor to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, now and always, forever and ever. Amen.