使徒行傳講道集 第 51 章

So the soldiers, according to the order given them, took Paul and brought him by night to Antipatris.

And on the next day they left the horsemen to go on with him, and returned to the barracks;

who, coming to Caesarea and delivering the letter to the governor, presented Paul also before him.

Just as bodyguards escort some king, they conducted him with so great a multitude and by night, fearing the wrath of the people's onset.

When, therefore, they had brought him out of the city, then they withdrew.

But the tribune would not have sent him off with so great security, had he not himself found nothing to condemn in him, and had he not known the murderous disposition of those men.

And having read the letter and asked from what province he was, and having learned that he was from Cilicia, he said, 'I will hear you fully when your accusers also arrive;'

and he commanded him to be kept under guard in Herod's praetorium.

Lysias had already made his defence on his behalf;

but nevertheless the Jews still set upon him, and forestall the hearer, and again he is cast into bonds—and hear how:

And after five days the high priest Ananias came down with the elders and with a certain orator named Tertullus, who laid information before the governor against Paul.

See how not even so did they desist, but they come, though hindered by countless obstacles—so that even there they were put to shame.

And when he had been called, Tertullus began to accuse him, saying:

'Seeing that through you we enjoy much peace, and that reforms are being brought about for this nation through your forethought, we accept it in every way and everywhere, most excellent Felix, with all thankfulness.'

'But, that I may not further detain you, I entreat you in your clemency to hear us briefly.'

And yet you yourselves have done this very thing;

what need, then, of an orator? See how this man too, straightway from his opening words, wishes to hand him over as a revolutionary and a stirrer of sedition, and by his flatteries forestalls the judge.

Then, as though he had much to say, he runs over it and says only this:

'But, that I may not further detain you—'

See how he casts the judge into a desire for punishment;

as if he were about to lay hold of one who was overturning the whole world, and as though they prided themselves on it as on some great achievement.

'For we have found this man a pestilent fellow, and one who stirs up seditions among all the Jews throughout the world, and a ringleader of the sect of the Nazarenes, who also attempted to profane the temple;'

'whom also we seized, and would have judged according to our own law.'

'But Lysias the tribune came upon us, and with great violence took him out of our hands, commanding his accusers to come before you;'

'from whom you yourself, by examining him, will be able to learn concerning all these things whereof we accuse him.'

'Stirring up seditions,' he says, 'among the Jews throughout the world.'

As a destroyer, then, and a common enemy of the nation they slander him, and as a ringleader of the sect of the Nazarenes.

This seemed to be a reproach—that of the Nazarenes;

wherefore they brought this forward too, and from this again slandered him;

See how maliciously they calumniate him as one who had escaped, and had scarcely been caught—and yet he had been seven days in the temple.

'Whom also we seized, and would have judged according to our own law;'

as if it were their law to smite, to kill, to lay ambushes.

Then follows also the accusation against Lysias: 'But Lysias the tribune came upon us, and with great violence took him out of our hands;'

'doing,' he says, 'a thing that did not befit him.'

'From whom you yourself, by examining, will be able to know concerning all these things whereof we accuse him.'

And the Jews also joined in the attack, affirming that these things were so.

What, then, does Paul do? Does he keep silence at these charges? By no means;

but again he speaks with boldness and makes answer;

and this too because the governor willed it;

And Paul answered, when the governor had beckoned to him to speak:

'Knowing that for many years you have been a just judge to this nation, I the more cheerfully make my defence concerning myself, since you are able to learn that it is not more than twelve days since I went up to worship in Jerusalem.'

'And neither in the temple did they find me disputing with anyone or stirring up a crowd, nor in the synagogues, nor throughout the city;'

'nor can they now prove to you the things whereof they now accuse me.'

These are not words of flattery—to bear witness to a judge's righteousness;

but rather those other words were flattery, namely to say:

'Seeing that through you we enjoy much peace.'

Why, then, do you unjustly stir up sedition? But consider:

those men were urging on toward injustice, but this man sought what was just;

'I the more cheerfully make my defence concerning myself;'

then he also grounds his argument on the time:

'For knowing,' he says, 'that for many years you have been a judge.'

And what did this contribute to his proof? Much;

for he shows that the judge himself knows that he has done none of the things whereof he is accused.

For had he ever stirred up a tumult, the judge, being such, would have known it, and such a thing would not have escaped him.

Then, since the accuser had nothing to point to in Jerusalem, see what he says:

'Among all the Jews throughout the world'—piling falsehood upon falsehood.

For this reason Paul, drawing him away from this point, says: 'I went up to worship;'

all but making his defence by this, that 'so far am I from stirring up seditions;'

and he dwells upon this plea of justice, which was strong:

'And neither in the temple, nor in the city, nor in the synagogue did they find me disputing with anyone.'

And that man indeed says 'ringleader,' as of a battle and a mustering of forces;

but this man—see how mildly he answers:

'But this I confess to you, that according to the Way, which they call a sect, so do I worship the God of my fathers, believing all things which are according to the law and which are written in the prophets, having hope toward God, which these men themselves also accept, that there shall be a resurrection both of the just and of the unjust.'

This man brings the law in on his own side, and, by the very words of his defence, claims kinship with the law.

And confirming what he had said, he again adds:

And in this I too discipline myself, keeping a conscience void of offense toward God and toward men continually.

Now after many years I came to bring alms to my nation and offerings, in the course of which they found me purified in the temple, not with a crowd, nor with any tumult.

Why then did you go up? Why did you come? To worship? To do alms, he says.

So that this was not the act of a seditious man.

Then he also casts out their charge to their face, saying without qualification:

'In the course of which certain Jews from Asia found me;'

'who ought to have been present before you, and to bring an accusation, if they had anything against me;'

'or else let these men themselves say what wrong they found in me, when I stood before the council;'

'except it be for this one voice, that I cried standing among them, that concerning the resurrection of the dead I am this day being judged by you.'

This is the abundance of a good cause: not to flee one's accusers, but to be ready to give an answer to all.

'Concerning the resurrection of the dead,' he says, 'I am this day being judged.'

And he said nothing of what he might reasonably have said—that they plotted against him, that they seized him, that they laid an ambush (for these things are said to have been done by them;

but from him, even when danger was present, nothing of the sort);

but he keeps silence, and only makes his defense, though he had countless things to say.

This is what also made him illustrious at Caesarea, that he came with so great an array against him.

'In the course of which,' he says, 'they found me purified.'

How then did he profane it? For it did not belong to the same man both to purify himself and to worship, and for that very purpose to come and to profane.

This too carries an appearance of justifying his cause: not to allow the discourse to run to great length, and he shows deference to the judge.

But to me it seems that on the judge's account also he cut short his defense.

But let us look at what has been said from the beginning.

Since before this Tertullus had made a long harangue, showing that he was being cut short, he did not say, 'Hear the matter;'

but, 'That I be not further tedious to you, I entreat you of your clemency to hear us.'

Perhaps he thus contrives his speech by way of flattery;

or else this is truly a token of clemency, if, when one might say much, in order not to give trouble one should say little.

'For we have found this man a pestilent fellow;'

'who,' he says, 'also attempted to profane the temple.'

What then, if he had done this elsewhere? By no means;

but now he says 'attempted' indeed, yet how, he does not add.

And the charges against Paul he thus exaggerated;

but see how he minimizes their own doings.

'Whom also we took,' he says, 'and would have judged according to our law.'

'But the chief captain Lysias came upon us, and with great violence took him away out of our hands.'

Here he shows that they too are wronged in coming to a foreign tribunal, and that they would not have troubled him had that man not compelled them, and how he, without warrant, snatched away the man;

for the wrongs were against us, and the tribunal ought to have been held among us.

For that this is so, see what follows;

for he was a forbearing man.

Then again, lest he should seem to lie, he sets Paul himself as accuser of himself.

'From whom,' he says, 'you may, by examining him, take knowledge of all these things.'

Then also there are witnesses of what has been said;

'And the Jews also joined in the charge, affirming that these things were so.'

The accusers, they themselves are both witnesses and accusers.

But Paul answers, 'Knowing that you have been for many years a judge of this nation, I do the more cheerfully make my defense.'

So then he is no stranger, nor an alien, nor an innovator, if indeed for many years he has known the judge.

And well did he add the word 'righteous,' that he might not look to the high priest, nor to the people, nor to the accuser.

See how he was not led into insolence;

and this, even though there was necessity.

'Believing,' he says, 'all things which are according to the law.'

This he said, showing that a man who believes there will be a resurrection would never do such things—a resurrection which these very men also expect.

He did not say of these men that they believe the things written in the prophets (for indeed they did not believe);

but he himself believed all things, not they;

and how, it would take a long discourse to tell just now.

He said so much, and nowhere makes mention of Christ.

But here, having said 'believing,' he introduced also the things concerning Christ; yet for the present he dwells on the doctrine of the resurrection, which was a tenet common to them, and did away with every suspicion of sedition.

Then also the cause of his going up.

'To do alms,' he says, 'and offerings to my nation, I came, and this after many years.'

How then could he have stirred up those to whom he came, having travelled so long a road in order to do so great an alms? 'Not with a crowd,' he says, 'nor with tumult.'

Everywhere he does away with the notion of sedition.

And well does he summon the accusers from Asia, saying:

'Who ought to accuse before you, if they had anything against me.'

So confident was he of being clean with respect to the things whereof he was accused, that he even summons them.

And not only those from Asia, but also those from Jerusalem does he not cast out as accusers;

but these also he again summons, adding:

For it was on this very account that from the beginning they were sorely vexed, because he preached the resurrection.

for this being shown, the things concerning Christ were easily brought in as well, namely that He rose again.

'What wrong did they find in me,' he says, 'when I stood before the council?' He said 'in the council;'

showing that they found nothing, the examination having taken place not in private, but in the presence of the multitude, and with strict inquiry.

And that I speak the truth in this, they who accuse me concerning this bear witness.

'And in this I too discipline myself, void of offense.'

'Having a conscience toward both God and men.'

For this is the perfect virtue, when we neither give men any handle against us, and are earnest to be void of offense before God.

'Because of which I cried out,' he says, 'in the council.'

And he shows their violence by saying, 'I cried out,' as though he were saying:

They cannot say, 'You did these things under the pretext of almsgiving';

for I did not do this in the midst of a crowd nor with any uproar;

and besides, when an inquiry was made concerning this matter, nothing further was found.

Do you see his forbearance, even in the midst of dangers? Do you see his gracious tongue, and how he seeks only one thing—to clear himself of his own charges—not to entangle those men in accusations, except where he might be compelled to do so in making his defense? Even as Christ also said:

'I have no demon, but I honor my Father.'

Let us too imitate this man, since he himself was an imitator of Christ.

If against those who had gone so far as murder and slaughter that man said nothing bitter, what pardon should we deserve, who rage like wild beasts amid reviling and insults, calling our enemies foul and utterly abominable? And what defense shall we have for having enemies at all? Do you not hear that he who honors, honors himself? But we insult ourselves.

Why then do you fall into the very charge? Why do you involve yourself in the blow? Remain unharmed, remain unwounded;

do not, in wishing to strike another, entangle yourself in the evil.

For is not one tumult of the soul enough for us—that which is stirred though nothing stirs it?

such as absurd desires, griefs, despondencies, and all things of this kind;

yet we heap up others besides.

'And how is it possible,' one asks, 'to bear being insulted?' And how is it not possible, tell me? Is a wound produced in us by words? Are there bruises upon our bodies? What harm, then, comes to us? So that, if we are willing, we are able to bear it.

Let us set ourselves a law not to grieve, and we shall bear it;

let us say to ourselves:

It is not from enmity, it is from weakness;

for indeed it truly is from weakness;

for that it is not from enmity nor from malice—that man too wished to restrain himself, though he had been wronged ten thousand times.

If we consider only this—that it is from weakness—we shall bear it, and we shall pardon that man, and we ourselves shall try not to fall into the same fault.

For I ask all who are present:

Can you, if you are willing, so practice this wisdom as to bear those who insult you? For my part, I think you can.

So then he insulted you unwillingly and against his will, but under compulsion of his passion.

Do you not see those who are possessed by demons? Just as such a one endures this not so much from enmity as from weakness,

so we too are moved not so much by the nature of the insults as by our own selves;

since how is it that we bear the same insults when madmen offer them? Again, if those who insult us are friends, or even greater than we, in that case too we bear it;

how then is it not absurd that, while there are these three—friends, madmen, and those greater than we—we bear it, but from equals or even inferiors we do not bear it? Many times I have said:

The thing is a mere impulse and a sudden seizure;

let us endure a little, and we have accomplished the whole.

The greater the insult he offers, the weaker he is.

Do you know when you ought to grieve? When, after we have insulted him, that man keeps silent;

for then he is strong, but we are weak;

but if the contrary happens, we ought even to rejoice;

you have been crowned, you have been proclaimed victor;

not having been dragged down into a contest, nor having endured the oppression of the sun and its rays and the dust, nor having grappled and given holds, but merely by willing it, and while sitting or standing still, you have received the great crown;

and not simply a great one, but one far greater than theirs;

for it is not the same thing to throw an adversary in a contest and to prevail over the darts of anger.

You have conquered without even giving a hold, you have cast down the passion within you, you have slain the beast when it was aroused, and you have bridled the raging fury, like some excellent herdsman;

the battle was to have been a civil one, the war a war among one's own.

For just as those who sit down before a wall and besiege it from without entangle the defenders in civil wars, and then prevail;

so also he who insults, unless he rouses the passion within us, will not be able to prevail;

unless we ourselves set ourselves on fire, that man has no strength at all.

The spark of anger is in us that it may be kindled at the fitting moment—not against ourselves, nor that it may entangle us in ten thousand evils.

Do you not see how fire in houses is kept apart, and not scattered everywhere—neither in the hay, nor among the garments, nor anywhere carelessly—so that it may not blaze up when the wind blows?

But even if a maidservant carries a lamp, even if the cook lights a fire, there is much caution: not to do this near the wind, nor close to a plank, nor at night;

but when night overtakes us, we have put it to rest, fearing lest at some time, while we are sleeping and no one is there to help, it might be kindled and set fire to us all. Let this be done also with regard to wrath;

let it not be scattered everywhere among our thoughts, but kept in some depth of the mind, so that the wind that comes from the words of the adversary may not easily reach it, but that it may receive the wind from us, who know how to stir it in due measure and safely.

If it receives the wind from without, it knows no measure, but will set everything ablaze;

often, even while we sleep, this wind will fall upon it and burn everything down.

Let it therefore be for us only to kindle a light;

for wrath kindles a light when it arises fittingly;

and let us have torches against those who wrong others, against the devil.

Let the spark not lie everywhere, nor be flung about, but let us keep it in ashes;

let us lull it to rest among humble thoughts.

We do not always need it, but only when something must be worked and made pliable;

when a hardness must be softened, when the soul must be brought to self-condemnation.

How many dreadful things have fits of wrath and anger wrought!

And what is grievous is this: when we have risen up in strife, we are no longer masters of coming together again, but we wait for others;

each is ashamed and blushes to go back and reconcile the other.

See, one is not ashamed to fall out and be torn apart, but becomes the author of the evil;

yet he is ashamed to approach and to sew up what has been torn;

and the same thing happens as if someone did not hesitate to cut off a limb, but were ashamed to join it together again.

What do you say, O man? You have done great wrong, and you yourself became the cause of the fight? Then it would be right for you to be the first to go and be reconciled, seeing that you yourself supplied the cause.

'But they wronged me, and that man is the cause.' Then for this very reason too—that they may admire you all the more, that in addition to the first you may hold the first place also in the second—as you were not the cause of the enmity's arising, so neither be the cause of the enmity's being stretched out further;

perhaps that man too, being conscious of ten thousand faults in himself, is ashamed and blushes.

'But he has become desperate?' In that case most of all do not hesitate to run to him;

for the passion in him is twofold, both desperation and anger.

You have stated the very reason why you ought to be the first to go—you, the one who is in health, the one who is able to see;

for that man is in darkness.

For such is the nature of wrath and arrogance.

But you, who are free from these and are in health, draw near, as the physician to the one who is sick.

Does any physician say, 'Because he is ill I will not go to him'? Nay, rather for this very reason they go all the more, whenever they see that the man was unable to come.

For those who are able to come they even care less about, as not being gravely ill; but for those who are bedridden, no longer so.

Or does it not seem to you that madness and rage are worse than sickness? Is not the one like a violent fever, and the other like a body inflamed and swollen? Consider how great a thing it is to have both fever and swelling.

For you are able, by the grace of God.

As with water, subdue the inflammation.

'What then,' he says, 'if he is puffed up all the more by this very thing?' That is nothing to do with you.

For you have done your own part; but let him reckon with himself.

Let not our conscience condemn us, as though this came to pass because we were lacking in any of the things we owed.

'Feed thine enemy,' he says.

'For in so doing thou shalt heap coals of fire upon his head.'

And yet, even though this be so, He commands us to go and be reconciled and to do good, not that we may heap coals of fire, but that the other, knowing this, may be brought low, that he may tremble, that he may fear kindnesses more than the enmities of foes, and friendships more than plots against him.

For an enemy nursing his grudge does not so harm the one who hates him, as does the one who helps and does him good.

For by nursing his grudge, he harms both himself and the other.

But by doing good, he has heaped coals of fire upon his head.

'Ought we not then to do it,' he says, 'so that we may not heap up coals?' But do you wish in another way to heap coals upon your own head? For this too is what the nursing of a grudge does.

'But to extend it further?' By no means.

For it is not you who do this, but that other, the brutish one.

For if, while you do him good and honour him and are reconciled to him, he persists in keeping up his hatred, he has kindled the fire against himself; he himself has scorched his own head.

Do not become more loving to man than God is, lest you suffer countless dreadful things.

Or rather, not even if you wished could you do so, not even a little.

For how could you? 'As far as heaven is distant from the earth,' He says, 'so far are my counsels distant from your counsels.'

'If ye then,' He says, 'being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give unto you?' But these are mere excuses and pretexts.

Let us not then explain away the commandments of God with our clever reasonings.

'And how do we explain them away?' he says. He said:

'In doing this, thou shalt heap coals of fire upon his head.'

'I fear my enemy, because he has greatly wronged me.'

Is that not what you say? But how did you come to have an enemy at all? You fear the one who wronged you, but you do not fear yourself? Would that you gave thought to yourself!

Or rather, even with such an aim, do it.

I do not say to you merely that you will heap coals of fire, but I say something yet greater still.

For all these things, says Paul, he speaks in order to call you forth, to dissolve the enmity by the hope of vengeance.

Since we are brutish, and would not otherwise endure to love our enemy unless we expected some vengeance, he gives us this morsel, as it were to a wild beast.

For to the apostles he does not say this, but what? 'That ye may become like unto your Father which is in heaven.'

And in any case it is impossible that one who does good and one who receives good should remain enemies.

Why, philosophizing in words, do you not keep even measure in your deeds? Well and good—you do not feed him, lest you heap coals of fire upon him;

so then you are sparing him? so then you love him, and do it with such an aim? God knows whether you speak with such an aim.

And indeed, toward us you play the sophist and put forward your specious argument.

You take thought for your enemy and fear lest he be punished? Then you have quenched your anger;

for he who so loves as to overlook his own advantage for the sake of what benefits the other, has no enemy.

How long shall we trifle in matters that are no trifling matter, and admit of no excuse? Wherefore I exhort your Brotherhood, beloved of the Lord and God and our Saviour Jesus Christ, and I beg and beseech you, that cutting off these pretexts, we may not despise the laws of God, nor overlook His commandments, that we may be able to pass this present life in a manner well-pleasing to the Lord, and to obtain the good things that have been 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 honour, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages.