Homilies on Acts 42.1–42.4

“Now after these things were accomplished, Paul resolved in the Spirit to pass through Macedonia and Achaia and go to Jerusalem, saying, ‘After I have been there, I must also see Rome.’ And having sent into Macedonia two of those who ministered to him, Timothy and Erastus, he himself stayed in Asia for a time. And about that time there arose no small disturbance concerning the Way.” Having spent enough time in the city, he wants to move on again. That is why he sends Timothy and Erastus into Macedonia, while he himself remains at Ephesus. But how is it that, having chosen at first to go to Syria, he turns back again to Macedonia? Showing that he did not do everything by his own power. Already he prophesies, saying, “I must also see Rome.” And he said this perhaps to comfort them, as one who would not be far away, but would again come nearer to them, and rousing the souls of the disciples by the prophecy. It seems to me that it was from here, from Ephesus, that he wrote to the Corinthians and said, “I do not want you to be ignorant of the affliction we experienced in Asia.” For since he had promised to come to Corinth, he excuses himself for being slow, and speaks of the trial, relating at last the affair of Demetrius. For he hints at this, saying that no small disturbance arose concerning the Way. Again danger, again disturbance. Do you see the success? Double signs had taken place; but these men spoke against them. So in everything the events are woven together. “For a man named Demetrius, a silversmith, who made silver shrines of Artemis, brought no small business to the craftsmen. These he gathered, together with the workmen of like occupation, and said, ‘Men, you know that from this business we have our wealth. And you see and hear that not only at Ephesus but almost throughout all Asia this Paul has persuaded and turned away a great many people, saying that gods made with hands are not gods. And there is danger not only that this trade of ours may come into disrepute, but also that the temple of the great goddess Artemis may be counted as nothing, and that she may even be deposed from her magnificence, she whom all Asia and the world worship.’” “Who made,” it says, “silver shrines of Artemis.” And how is it possible for shrines to be of silver? Perhaps like small caskets; for her honor was great in Ephesus, where the burning of their temple so grieved them that they ordered that the man who burned it should not even be named. See how everywhere idolatry arises from money. Those men too acted for money, and this man for money; not as though their religion were in danger, but as though their gain were losing its source. And consider the man’s wickedness. He himself was wealthy, and no great harm was going to come to him from this; but to them it was great, since they were poor and lived on their daily work. And yet they say nothing, but he does; and since they were partners in the trade, he takes them as partners in the uproar too. Then he magnified the danger, adding, “There is danger that this trade of ours may come into disrepute.” For by this he means almost this: that we are in danger of falling into famine from this craft. And yet what was said was enough to bring them to godliness; but … and they do not consider: if this man is so strong as to turn everyone away, and the affairs of the gods are in danger, how great is his God! and that he will give us much more those things for which we fear. He had already won over their souls beforehand, saying, “Gods made by human hands are not gods.” See what the Greeks are indignant about: because he said, “Those made by men are not gods.” Everywhere he pushes the speech toward the trade. Then he puts last what grieved them most, saying, “And not only is this trade of ours in danger”; that is, of the others there is no account; but that “the temple too of the great goddess Artemis” is in danger of being deposed. Then, so that he might not seem to say these things for the sake of gain, see what he adds: “she whom the world worships.” Do you see how he showed Paul’s power to be greater, proving them all wretched and miserable, if a man who was being driven about, and a tentmaker, can do so much? See how the testimonies to the apostles come from enemies. There they said, “See, you have filled Jerusalem with your teaching”; here …, “Those who have turned the world upside down”; then they heard, “These men have come here too”; now, “There is danger that this trade of ours may come into disrepute.” So too the Jews said in the case of Christ: “You see that the world has gone after him,” and, “The Romans will come and take away our city.” “When they heard this, they were filled with rage.” When did the rage come? When they heard about Artemis, when they heard about their gain. Such are the manners of the men of the marketplace, … one must do everything with examination. And see how contemptible they were, so as to be exposed to everyone. “When they heard this,” it says, “and were filled with rage, they cried out, …; and the whole city was filled with the confusion; and they rushed together into the theater, dragging along Gaius and Aristarchus, Macedonians,”

Again they simply seize, as in Jason’s case. The Jews everywhere are put forward by them; so little … they had, nor of glory. “And when Paul wanted to go in to the people, the disciples would not let him. And some of the Asiarchs, who were friends of his, sent to him and begged him not to venture into the theater.” They beg him because the people were disorderly, daring everything with an unreasoning rush. And Paul … for he was not vainglorious, nor ambitious. “Some cried one thing, some another; for the assembly was in confusion.” Such is the multitude: it simply follows, like fire falling on wood. “And most did not know why they had come together. And out of the crowd [they brought forward Alexander, the] Jews [putting him forward].” The Jews put him forward by design, so that they might have nothing to say against it afterward. This man is both put forward and speaks; and what, hear: “And Alexander motioned with his hand and wanted to make a defense to the people. But when they recognized that he was a Jew, a voice went up, one from all, crying out for about two hours, ‘Great is Artemis of the Ephesians!’” Truly childish was the …; they shouted continually. He had sat there two years, and see how many were still Greeks! “And when the town clerk had quieted the crowd,” it says, “he said, ‘Men of Ephesus, who is there who does not know that the city of the Ephesians is temple keeper of the great goddess Artemis, and of the image that fell from Zeus?’” By this first he [quenched] their rage. “And of the image that fell from Zeus”: he says this as though the thing did not exist. Another sacred object was so called …; or else they called the image of Artemis “fallen from Zeus,” as though that piece of earthenware had fallen from Zeus and had not been made by man; or else something else was so called among them. “‘Since then these things cannot be contradicted, you ought to be quiet and do nothing rash. For you have brought these men here, who are neither temple robbers nor blasphemers of your goddess.’” All a lie; but these things he said to the people, so as … “‘If then Demetrius and the craftsmen with him have a complaint against anyone, … let them bring charges against one another. But if you seek anything about other matters, … For we are in danger of being charged with riot for today, there being no cause by which we shall be able to give an account of this commotion.’ And when he had said these things, he dismissed the assembly.” “The lawful assembly,” he says, because three assemblies were held according to law each month; but this one was unlawful. Then he also frightened them by saying, “We are in danger of being charged with riot.” But let us look at what was said from the beginning. “Now after these things were accomplished,” it says, “Paul resolved in the Spirit to pass through Macedonia and Achaia and go to Jerusalem.” Here he no longer acts in a human way, but by the Spirit, by whom he also chose to pass through. For this is what “resolved” means, and the word has this sense. Why he sends Timothy and Erastus he does not say; but it seems to me that “in the Spirit” is said about this too. “So when we could bear it no longer, we were willing to be left behind at Athens alone.” And see: he sent two of those who ministered to him, both to announce his coming and to make them more eager. He stays in Asia above all; reasonably, for there was the great company of the philosophers. And having come, he reasoned with them again; for there was much superstition there. “For a certain Demetrius,” it says, “a silversmith, having gathered the workmen of like occupation, said, ‘Men, you know, and you see and hear’”: so plain was what was happening. “That this Paul,” he says, “has persuaded and turned away a great many people.” So it was not by force, if he persuaded; this is how one must persuade a city. Then he adds what touched them: “that gods made with hands are not gods.” What is this? He overturns, he says, our craft. And so that they might not consider and say that a man alone has such strength, and if he is so strong, one must obey him, he added, “she whom all Asia and the world worship.” They thought to wall off the divine Spirit with their shouting, being children, Greeks that they were. “From this business,” he says, “we have our wealth.” And if wealth comes to you from this business, how did a mean man persuade? How did he master so great a custom? By doing what, or saying what? It is not Paul’s doing; it is not a man’s. And it was enough for him to say, “They are not gods.” If, then, the worship was so easy to detect, it ought to have been condemned long ago; but if it was strong, it ought not to have been destroyed so quickly. “And not only,” he says, “is this trade of ours in danger.” As though saying something greater, he added this. “When they heard this and were filled with rage, they cried out, ‘Great is Artemis of the Ephesians!’” For they had gods city by city. And they were so disposed as though by their shouting they were recovering her honor and undoing what had been done. … a disorderly multitude. “And when Paul,” it says, “wanted to go in to the people, the disciples would not let him.” Paul, then, wanted to go in and address the people; for he took persecutions as an occasion for teaching; but the disciples would not let him. Consider with what forethought they treat him everywhere. From the beginning too they brought him out, so that he might not receive a blow in a vital part; and yet they had heard that he must also see Rome; still they prevent him. He foretells it by design, so that they might not be troubled by what happened. So they did not want him even to suffer anything. “And some of the Asiarchs too,” it says, “begged him not to venture into the theater.” Knowing his eagerness, they begged him; so much did all the believers love him. “And why,” someone says, “did Alexander want to make a defense? Was he himself accused?” So as to find an occasion, and overturn everything and inflame the people’s rage. Did you see the disorderly rage? Well and reprovingly the town clerk says, “Who is there who does not know the city of the Ephesians?” So he spoke about what they feared; as if he said, Does it not worship her? And he did not say, “Who is there who does not know Artemis?” but, “our city,” soothing them. “Since then these things cannot be contradicted, you ought to be quiet.” He seems to rebuke them for this, all but saying: Why then do you search as though the matter were in doubt? It is plain that the insult to the goddess is a pretext for gain. Then he gently reproaches them, showing that they had gathered without reason. “And do nothing rash,” he says. He said this to show that they had acted rashly. “If then Demetrius and those with him have a complaint”: and showing that it was not right to hold a public assembly for private charges. “For we are in danger,” he says, “of being charged.” By this he greatly perplexed them. “There being no cause,” he says, “by which we shall be able to give an account of this commotion.” See how sensibly, how wisely the unbelievers make their defense. So he quenched the rage. For as it is easily kindled, so too it is easily quenched. “And when he had said these things,” it says, “he dismissed the assembly.” You see God allowing the trials, and by them rousing and waking the disciples with violent shocks; “for he himself will also provide the way of escape, that we may be able to endure it.” Nothing so makes friends and binds them together as affliction; nothing so ties together and fastens the souls of the faithful; nothing is so suited to us teachers for having what we say listened to. For a hearer who is at ease is slack and careless, and thinks the speaker is troubling him; but in affliction and distress he falls into a great desire to listen. For when his soul is distressed, he seeks on every side to find comfort for his affliction; and the word brings no small comfort. “What then,” someone says, “of the Jews? How is it that, being afflicted, they did not listen because of their faintheartedness?” Because they were Jews, who were always weak and wretched; and besides, there the affliction was great, but our talk is of a moderate one. For see: those men expected to be freed from the evils that held them, and fell into countless worse terrors instead; and this perplexes the soul not a little. Afflictions cut us off from attachment to the present world; at any rate we at once ask for death, and are not lovers of the body; which is the greatest part of philosophy: not to gape after the present life nor be tied to it. The afflicted soul does not want to be busy about many things, but longs only for some rest and quiet; it is content to be rid of present things, even if there is nothing else. Just as a body that has toiled and been worn out does not want to make love or to feast, but to rest and lie quiet, so too a soul pickled in countless evils hastens toward rest and quiet. The soul at ease is excited, troubled, unsettled; but this one remains steady; and the one is more manly, the other more childish; the one weightier, the other lighter. And just as something light falling into much water is tossed about, so too a soul falling into much joy. And one may see that our greatest sins have come from much pleasure. And if you like, let us sketch two houses, one of people marrying, the other of people mourning; let us go in to each in our discourse and see which is better. The mourner’s will be found full of philosophy, and the marrying man’s full of indecency. For see: there are shameful words, disorderly laughter, still more disorderly dancing, clothing and gait full of indecency, postures of great folly and foolishness; and in short everything there is nothing but laughter and ridicule. I do not mean marriage, God forbid, but the things that go with marriage. Then nature is driven into Bacchic frenzy; those present become beasts instead of men: some neigh like horses, others kick like asses; there is great dissipation, great looseness, nothing serious, nothing noble; there is great pomp of the devil there, cymbals, pipes, and songs full of sexual immorality and adultery. But not so where there is mourning: everything is orderly; for there is great silence, great quiet, great composure, nothing disorderly, nothing out of measure; if anyone says anything, he speaks words full of philosophy; and the wonderful thing is that at that time not only men but also servants and women practice philosophy. Such is the nature of mourning. And they seem to comfort the mourner, but they utter countless sayings full of philosophy: at once prayers that things may stop there, and those who comfort the sufferer are many, and the enumerations of those who have mourned such losses are countless. “For what is man?” And there is an examination of our nature.

“What then is man?” And there is an indictment of life and of its meanness, a reminder of the things to come, of the judgment. Each one goes home: from a wedding grieved, because he himself is not prospering; from mourning relieved, because he has not suffered such things, and he goes away with all the inflammation quenched. But what? Do you want us to compare prisons and theaters? For the one is a place of affliction, the other of pleasure. Come, then, let us see what results from each. There is much philosophy there; for where there is despondency, there is surely philosophy too. The man who was rich before, who was much puffed up, will even bear with an ordinary person talking to him, since fear and despondency fall on his soul like a fierce fire and soften its hardness; then he becomes humble, then gloomy, then he perceives the changes of life, then he is patient toward everything. But in the theater everything is waste of time and needless expense of days, the preparation of a strange desire, the practice of adultery, the training ground of sexual immorality, the school of licentiousness, an incitement to shamefulness, a cause of laughter, examples of indecency. But the prison is not like this; there is humility, comfort, an incitement to philosophy, contempt for the things of this life; … fear stands over him like a tutor over a child, shaping him to all that he ought to do. But if you like, let us examine the same places again in another way. I would like to meet a man coming down from the theater and another coming out of the prison, and you would see the soul of the one …, and of the other relieved, loosed, given wings. For the one goes away from the theater bound by the sight of the women there, bearing bonds harder than any iron: the places there, the words, the postures; but the other, coming out of the prison, released from everything, will no longer think that he suffers anything terrible, comparing his own lot with that of others. He will be grateful from then on that he is not bound; he will despise human affairs, seeing many rich men in misfortunes, men of great power bound there; and if he suffers something unjustly, he will endure this too; for there are many examples of this too there. He will come to think of the coming judgment, and will shudder seeing the places here. For just as one shut up here in a prison is reasonable toward everyone, so they too, before the judgment, before the coming day, will be more reasonable toward wife, toward children, toward servants. But it is not so with one coming from the theater; he will look on his wife with more distaste, will be harsh to his household, will be irritated with his children, will turn savage toward everyone. Theaters bring great evils on cities, great ones, and we do not even know that they are great. And if you are not weary, let us examine also the places of laughter, I mean the banquets, where there are parasites and flatterers and much luxury, and other places where there are the lame and the maimed. Again, there is drunkenness and luxury and dissipation, but here the opposite. See in the case of the body too: when it is inflamed, when it is in high condition, it most quickly falls into disease; but not so when it is kept low. To make what I say clearer to you, suppose a body with much blood and much flesh, and bursting with vigor: this one will be able to breed a fever even from ordinary food, if it is simply idle. But let another be thinned rather by hunger and affliction: this one is hard to catch and hard to overcome by sickness. Blood, even if it is healthy in us, has often by its abundance produced disease; but if it is little, even if it is not healthy, it can easily be dealt with. So too with the soul: the one at ease and in luxury has impulses quick to tip toward sin; for such a soul stands near to arrogance and pleasure and vainglory and envy and plots and false accusations; but not the one in affliction and self-sufficiency: it is free of all these. See how great a city ours is, this great one. Where then are evils born? Is it not from the rich? Is it not from those who are merry? Who drag people into the courts? Who squander estates? The wretched and the outcast, or those who are puffed up and merry? No evil can come from an afflicted soul. Paul knows its gain; that is why he says, “Affliction produces endurance, and endurance proven character, and proven character hope, and hope does not put to shame.” So let us not lose heart in afflictions, but give thanks in all things, so that we may gain something great, so that we may win approval with God, who allows afflictions. Affliction is a great good; and we learn this from our own children; for without affliction a child would learn nothing useful. And we need affliction more than they. For if those things flourish in them while their passions are quiet, much more in us, especially as we are held by so many passions. We ought rather to have tutors; for the sins of children could not be great, but ours are very great. And affliction is our tutor. So let us not draw it on ourselves, and when it comes let us bear it nobly, since it is always the cause of countless good things, so that we may enjoy the help of God and the good things laid up for those who love him, in Christ Jesus our Lord, with whom to the Father together with the Holy Spirit be glory, might, honor, now and always and to the ages of ages. Amen.