使徒行傳講道集 第 36 章

But about midnight Paul and Silas, praying, were singing hymns to God;

and the prisoners were listening to them.

And suddenly there was a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the prison were shaken;

and immediately all the doors were opened, and everyone's bonds were loosed.

What could be equal to those souls? They were scourged, receiving many stripes; they were outraged; they were in peril of the utmost extremities; they had been thrust into the stocks, into the inner prison;

and not even so could they bear to sleep, but kept vigil the whole night through.

See how great a good is affliction! But we, even when we are on soft bedding, fearing no one, sleep the whole night.

Perhaps it was for this reason that they kept vigil—because they were in these straits.

The tyranny of sleep did not seize them, nor did pain bend them, nor did fear cast them into despair; but these very things were, much rather, what kept them awake and filled them with great gladness.

'And about midnight they were singing hymns to God,' it says, 'and the prisoners were listening to them.'

For it seemed to be strange and marvelous.

And suddenly there was a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the prison were shaken;

and immediately all the doors were opened, and everyone's bonds were loosed.

The earthquake came, so that that man might be awakened, and the doors were opened, so that he might marvel at what had happened.

These things the prisoners did not see;

And the jailer, being roused from sleep and seeing the prison doors opened, drew his sword and was about to kill himself, supposing that the prisoners had escaped.

But Paul called out with a loud voice, saying:

Do yourself no harm.

Rather he marvelled at the loving-kindness of Paul,

and was astounded at his courage: that, though able to flee, he did not flee, and that he hindered him from the slaughter.

Having called for lights he rushed in, and being trembling he fell down before Paul and Silas; and bringing them out, he said:

Sirs, what must I do to be saved? Do you see how the wonder laid hold of him? And they said, Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and you shall be saved, you and your household.

And they spoke to him the word of the Lord, and to all who were in his house.

By speaking to him immediately they displayed their loving-kindness toward him.

And taking them at that very hour of the night, he washed them from their stripes.

And he himself was baptized, and all who belonged to him, immediately.

And bringing them up into his house, he set a table before them, and rejoiced with all his household, having believed in God.

He washed them, as if requiting the grace, and honouring them by what he did.

And when it was day, the magistrates sent the sergeants, saying:

Release those men.

Perhaps the magistrates had learned what had happened, and did not dare to release them on their own authority.

And the jailer reported these words to Paul, saying that The magistrates have sent to have you released.

Now therefore depart, and go in peace.

But Paul said to them:

They have beaten us publicly, uncondemned, men who are Romans, and cast us into prison.

And now do they thrust us out secretly? No indeed;

but let them come themselves and bring us out.

And the sergeants reported these words to the magistrates;

and they were afraid when they heard that they were Romans.

And they came and besought them, and bringing them out asked them to depart from the city.

And going out of the prison, they entered into the house of Lydia; and when they had seen the brethren, they comforted them and departed.

Though the magistrates had given the order, Paul does not go out;

perhaps for Lydia's sake, and for the other brethren;

or also putting them in fear, that they might not be thought to have begged to be released, and that he might set the others too in boldness.

Threefold, beloved, was the charge: that they were both Romans, and uncondemned, and were cast into prison publicly.

You see that they also contrived many human measures.

Let us compare these nights with that night—those nights where there are revellings and drunkenness and wantonness, where sleep differs in nothing from death, where sleeplessness is more grievous than sleep.

For some sleep insensibly, while others keep awake pitiably and wretchedly, stitching together deceits, anxious over money, striving how to take vengeance on those who have wronged them, meditating enmity, gathering up insulting words for the daytime;

thus they stir up the fire of wrath, working things unbearable.

Consider how Peter slept.

That happened by a dispensation;

for the angel came, and no one ought to see what was taking place;

and this again was well, that the jailer might be prevented from making away with himself.

And why did no other sign occur? Because this above all was able to draw and persuade him, seeing that he himself would have been in danger had it not happened;

for wonders do not so lay hold of us as the things that come for our own salvation.

That the earthquake might not seem to have come of itself, this too followed upon it, bearing witness to it.

for they did nothing for display, but for salvation.

The jailer was not wicked;

he cast them into the inner prison, having received such a command, not of his own will.

And why did not Paul cry out before this? The man was full of tumult and confusion, and would not have received it.

For this reason, when he saw himself about to make away with himself, Paul anticipates and cries out, saying:

For this reason too: Having called for lights he rushed in, and fell down before Paul, it says, and before Silas.

The keeper falls at the feet of the prisoner.

And he brings them out and says:

Sirs, what must I do to be saved? For what did he say? See him: not content merely because he had been saved thereby, but astounded at the power.

Do you see what happened there, and what here? There a servant-girl was freed from a spirit, and they cast them into prison because they had freed her from the demon;

here they merely showed doors opened, and it opened the doors of his heart, loosed a twofold bond, kindled that light;

for the light in his heart shone forth.

And he rushed in and fell down, and does not ask, How did this happen? What has happened? but immediately says:

What must I do to be saved? What then does Paul say?

Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and you shall be saved, he says, you and your household.

This above all draws men, that his household too should be saved.

And they spoke to him the word, and to all who were in his house.

He washed them, and was himself washed;

them he washed from their stripes, but he himself was washed from his sins;

and yet there was nothing, but words only and good hopes.

This was a sign that he had believed, that he was forgiven all his sins.

What is worse than a jailer? what more cruel? what more savage? And yet with great honour he received them.

Not because he had been saved did he rejoice, but Having believed in God.

Believe, he says, on the Lord.

For this reason it says, Having believed in God, that he might not seem to be released as a condemned man and as one who had sinned.

They have beaten us publicly, uncondemned men, and cast us into prison, that the matter might belong not only to grace but also to themselves.

See how grace dispenses matters diversely, how the one went out and how this one, though both were apostles.

They are afraid because they are Romans, not because they had cast them in unjustly.

And they asked them to depart from the city.

But they, coming to Lydia and confirming her, thus departed.

For it was not right to leave their hostess in anguish and anxiety.

They went out, not because they yielded to those men, but because they were hastening to the work of preaching, the city having been sufficiently instructed through the miracle.

For it was fitting that they should not remain there any longer.

For the miracle appears the greater when those who wrought it have departed, since it then proclaims itself all the more loudly.

For the faith of the jailer served in place of a voice.

What is equal to this? He who is bound both binds and looses—being himself bound, he looses a double bond.

By being bound, he loosed the one who had bound him.

'Now therefore,' he says, 'go out and depart in peace';

that is, in safety, fearing nothing.

And in another way too they wish him also to be out of danger, that afterward he might not be brought under accusation.

And they do not say, 'They beat us and cast us into prison, though we had wrought miracles';

for they gave no heed to these things either;

but that which was most able to shake their minds—'We are men uncondemned,' he says, 'and Romans.'

Let us ever keep this prisoner in remembrance, not the miracle.

What will the Greeks say—how a prisoner persuaded the jailer? 'And who was it,' one says, 'that ought to have been persuaded—some vile and wretched man without understanding, laden with countless evils and easily led astray?' They bring forward yet these objections too;

For who believed—was it not a tanner, a seller of purple, a eunuch, a jailer, slaves and women? What then will they be able to say when we bring forward also men of rank—the centurion, the proconsul, those from that time until now, the very rulers, the emperors themselves? But I say something else greater than this;

let us consider these very lowly ones.

'And where is the wonder in that?' one says. Why, this is precisely the wonder;

for if a man is persuaded concerning ordinary matters, there is nothing wonderful in it;

but when one discourses to lowly men about resurrection, about the kingdom of heaven, about a life of philosophy, and persuades them, it will be more wonderful than if he had persuaded the wise.

For when there is no danger and one persuades, they may fairly allege folly as the cause;

but when one says to the slave, according to your own supposition, 'If you are persuaded by me, you will be in peril, you will have all men as enemies, you must die and suffer countless evils,' and yet in this way wins that man's soul, this is no longer a mark of folly.

For if the doctrines held out some pleasure, one might reasonably say this;

but if what even philosophers would not have chosen to learn, this the slave learns—the miracle is the greater.

And if you please, let us bring the tanner himself into the midst, and see what Peter discoursed to him;

or if you will, this very jailer.

What then did Paul say to him? That Christ is risen, he says; that there is a resurrection of the dead; that there is a kingdom;

and he persuaded him easily, seeing he was easily led.

What then? Did he say nothing about conduct—that one must be temperate, that one must master money, that one must not be cruel, that one must give of his own to others? Surely the being persuaded of these things too was no mark of folly, but rather of a great soul.

For grant that they received the doctrines rather out of folly;

but to embrace so philosophic a life—of what folly was that a mark!

So that the more foolish the one persuaded may be, if yet he is persuaded of those very things which not even philosophers were able to persuade the philosophers of, the greater the miracle becomes—and most of all when even women and slaves are persuaded, and display in their deeds those very things of which the Platos and all those men were unable to persuade a single soul.

And why do I say they could not persuade anyone? They could not even persuade themselves.

For that one ought not to despise money, Plato taught, while himself acquiring so great abundance and a multitude of riches, gold rings and bowls;

and that one ought not to despise the glory that comes from the many, Socrates shows them—for however much he may play the philosopher about this;

for he did everything with a view to glory.

And if indeed you were versed in that man's writings, I would raise a long discourse concerning these matters, and would show how great was the dissimulation among them—if indeed one must be persuaded by the things his disciple says, and how all his writings take vainglory as their foundation.

But let us leave those men, and discourse with ourselves.

For besides what has been said, this too may be observed—that they were persuaded of these things even amid dangers.

Let us therefore not be shameless, but let us call to mind that night, the stocks, the hymns; and let us also be zealous to do this, and we shall open for ourselves, not a prison, but heaven.

If we pray, we too shall be able to open heaven.

Elijah both shut and opened heaven by prayer.

'Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth,' He says, 'shall be bound in heaven.'

Let us pray by night, and we shall loose these bonds.

For that prayers loose sins, let the widow persuade us, let that friend persuade us who at an untimely hour of the night persisted and knocked, let Cornelius persuade us;

'For thy prayers,' he says, 'and thine alms are come up as a memorial before God';

let Paul persuade us, saying:

'She that is a widow indeed, and left alone, hath set her hope on God, and continueth in supplications night and day.'

If he says these things of a widow, a weak woman, how much more of men.

And I have already discoursed to you, and now will say it again;

even if you do not offer many prayers, offer one with watchfulness, and it suffices;

and if not at midnight, then at least toward the dawn.

Show that the night belongs not to the body only, but to the soul as well;

do not allow it to pass by idly, but render to the Master this recompense;

or rather, it comes round to your own advantage.

Tell me now, if we should fall into some grievous difficulty, whom do we not entreat? and if we quickly obtain our request, we breathe again.

Who could grant you that the one you entreat should be ready to be grateful to you because you entreat Him? Who could grant you not to have to go about seeking whom you may entreat, but to find Him ready at hand—not to need others, that through them you may make your request? What is greater than this? For He does most of all at that time when we have no need of others;

just as a true friend most of all reproaches us as not trusting his friendship, whenever we make use of others who plead with him on our behalf.

So we too act toward those who entreat us;

we show them favor most of all when they come to us of themselves, and not through others.

'What then,' one says, 'if I have given offense?' Cease from offending and weep, and so draw near, and you will quickly make Him gracious toward you concerning your former misdeeds.

Only say, 'I have offended';

say it from your soul and from a genuine mind, and all is loosed.

You do not so desire to have your sins forgiven, as He Himself desires to forgive you your transgressions.

For that you do not desire it, consider that you do not even submit to keep vigil, nor do you part with money;

but He, in order to forgive us our sins, did not spare His Only-begotten, His true Son, who shares His throne.

Do you see that He rather desires to forgive you your transgressions? Let us then not be slothful, nor put it off.

He is loving toward mankind and good;

only let us give Him an occasion—and that, so that we may not become useless; since even apart from this He would have set us free;

but just as we, in dealing with our own household servants, devise and contrive countless pretexts;

so He too acts for the sake of our salvation.

Let us come before His presence with confession, for He is kind and gentle.

But if you do not call upon Him in truth, nor are willing to say from the heart, 'Forgive,' but only with the lips—what will He do? What does it mean to call upon Him in truth? To do so with deliberate resolve, with eagerness, with a sincere and undivided mind.

It is like what they say of perfumes: it is genuine, it has nothing adulterated in it.

He who truly calls upon Him, and who truly has need of Him, waits upon Him continually, and does not depart until he receives.

But he who merely goes through the motions as a formality, and in this very act only fulfills a rule, does not call upon Him in truth.

Whoever you may be, do not merely say, 'I am a sinner,' but strive also to rid yourself of this reputation.

If you do not strive, you feel no pain over it.

Who, saying 'I am sick,' does not do everything in order to be delivered? Prayer is a mighty weapon.

'If you then,' He says, 'know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more shall your Father?' Why are you unwilling to draw near? He loves you; He is able beyond all others.

He both wills and is able; what then hinders? Nothing.

Therefore let us draw near with faith; let us draw near, offering the gifts which He desires—the forgetting of wrongs, kindness, meekness.

Even if you are a sinner, you shall with boldness demand from Him the pardon of your sins, being able to show that this very thing has been done in you.

But if you are righteous, and yet do not possess this—the forgetting of wrongs—you have gained nothing.

It is impossible that a man who has forgiven his neighbor should not obtain a full and exact forgiveness for himself.

For God is incomparably more loving toward mankind than we are.

What do you say? If you say, 'I was wronged, I restrained my anger, I endured the assault of wrath for the sake of Your command,' will He not also forgive? Assuredly He will forgive.

Therefore let us cleanse our soul of the remembrance of wrongs.

This suffices for us to be heard; and let us pray with watchfulness and with much perseverance, that having enjoyed His abundant loving-kindness, we may be counted worthy of the good things promised, by the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom, to the Father together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, and honor, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages.