使徒行傳講道集 第 52 章

'And Felix,' it says, 'put them off, having more exact knowledge of the things concerning the Way, saying:'

'When Lysias the chief captain shall come down, I will determine the matter concerning you.'

And he commanded the centurion that Paul should be kept in custody, yet have some liberty, and that none of his own people should be forbidden to minister to him or to come to him.

See how great an examination there is: first by many, then also over a long time, so that no one might say that the tribunal was carried away by force.

For when the orator had made mention of Lysias, saying that he had taken him away by force, he opportunely brought in the matters concerning Felix, and says:

'And Felix put them off, having more exact knowledge of the things concerning...'

that is, he deliberately postponed it;

not because he needed to learn anything, but because he wished to fend off the Jews.

He was unwilling to release him, on account of those men;

and again, to punish him was not possible;

Wherefore also he defers, saying:

'When Lysias the chief captain shall come down, I will determine the matter concerning you.'

And he commanded the centurion that Paul should be kept in custody, yet have some liberty, and that none of his own people should be forbidden to minister to him or to come to him.

Thus he too released him from the charges.

Why then does he detain him after acquitting him? Either to gratify those men, or also because he was still expecting to receive money.

Wherefore also he sends for Paul;

and that it was for this reason he sent for him, the writer makes plain to us, adding and saying:

'And after certain days, Felix came with his wife Drusilla, which was a Jewess, and sent for Paul, and heard him concerning the faith in Christ Jesus.'

'And as he reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and the judgment to come, Felix became terrified, and answered:'

'and when I have a convenient season, I will send for thee.'

at the same time also hoping that money would be given him by Paul, so that he might release him.

Wherefore also, sending for him the more frequently, he conversed with him.

See how closely the things written cleave to the truth.

He sent for him continually, not because he admired him, nor because he approved of what was said, nor because he wished to believe, but why? Expecting, it says, that money would be given him.

Observe how here he does not conceal the judge's disposition;

and yet, if he had condemned him, he would not have done this, nor would he have been willing to hear from a condemned and wicked man.

And behold Paul, though conversing with a ruler, saying none of those things by which one might expect to soothe his soul, but rather such things as make him afraid and shake his mind.

For as he reasoned, it says, of righteousness and temperance and the judgment to come.

Felix became terrified.

So great was the force of Paul's words that they even struck fear into the governor.

And this man receives a successor, yet leaves him a prisoner—though he ought not to have done so, but rather to have brought the matter to an end; instead, to gratify those men, he left him behind.

But these men so pressed upon him as to petition him again; yet against none of the apostles had they so set themselves, but having once made their assault, they would afterward withdraw.

So providentially does he withdraw from Jerusalem, having such wild beasts to deal with; and yet they demand that he be brought back there again to be judged.

But here too God henceforth ordered matters, not permitting the governor;

for it was likely that he, having but newly entered upon his office, should also wish to show favour.

But when they had come down, they thereupon made their accusations shamelessly and more vehemently;

and being unable to convict him on the grounds of the Law, they turned again to their accustomed practice and stirred up the charges concerning Caesar—the very thing they had done also in the case of Christ.

For that Paul defended himself concerning offences against Caesar was plain from this; wherefore, interpreting this very point, he adds:

'And after two years were fulfilled, Felix received a successor, Porcius Festus.'

'And Felix, wishing to lay up a favour with the Jews, left Paul bound.'

'Now when Festus had entered upon his province, after three days he went up from Caesarea to Jerusalem.'

'And the chief priests and the principal men of the Jews laid information before him against Paul, and besought him, asking a favour of him, that he would send for him to Jerusalem, laying an ambush to kill him on the way.'

'Festus therefore answered that Paul should be kept at Caesarea, and that he himself was about to depart thither shortly.'

'Let those therefore, saith he, who among you are able, go down with me, and if there be anything in this man, let them accuse him.'

'And when he had tarried among them more than ten days, he went down to Caesarea, and on the morrow sat on the judgment-seat and commanded Paul to be brought.'

'And when he was come, the Jews who had come down from Jerusalem stood round about, bringing against Paul many and grievous charges which they could not prove; while he defended himself, saying, Neither against the law of the Jews, nor against the temple, nor against Caesar have I sinned in anything.'

'But Festus, wishing to lay up a favour with the Jews, answered Paul and said:'

'Wilt thou go up to Jerusalem, and there be judged of these things before me?' See how he too gratifies the Jews—a whole populace and a city.

For this reason he too strikes fear into him again, employing a human weapon;

'I stand at Caesar's judgment-seat, where I ought to be judged.'

'To the Jews have I done no wrong, as thou also very well knowest.'

'For if I am a wrongdoer, and have committed anything worthy of death, I refuse not to die;'

'but if there is none of those things whereof these accuse me, no man can deliver me up to them as a favour.'

But one might say here:

And for what reason, having heard, 'Thou must bear witness of the things concerning me at Rome also,' did he act thus as though disbelieving? God forbid! Rather, it was because he believed exceedingly.

It would rather have been the mark of one tempting God, to presume upon that declaration, and to cast himself into ten thousand dangers, and to say:

'Let us see whether God is able to deliver me even thus.'

But Paul does not do this; rather, he contributes everything on his own part, committing the whole to God;

and gently he also touches upon the governor, defending himself in this manner:

for he all but says this:

'But if I do no wrong, why dost thou deliver me up? No man, saith he, can give me up as a favour.'

He cast him into fear, so that he might not, even willingly, give him up as a favour, but might have his appeal as a defence toward those men.

'Then Festus, having conferred with the council, answered:'

'Thou hast appealed unto Caesar; unto Caesar shalt thou go.'

See, he communicates the matter to Agrippa, so that yet others might again become hearers—both the king, and the army, and Bernice.

'Now when certain days had passed, Agrippa the king and Bernice came to Caesarea to salute Festus.'

'And as they were tarrying there many days, Festus laid Paul's case before the king, saying:'

'There is a certain man left a prisoner by Felix;'

'concerning whom, when I was at Jerusalem, the chief priests and the elders of the Jews laid information, asking for judgment against him.'

'To whom I answered, that it is not the custom of the Romans to give up any man as a favour unto destruction, before the accused have his accusers face to face, and have opportunity of defence concerning the charge.'

'When therefore they had come together here, I made no delay, but on the next day sat on the judgment-seat and commanded the man to be brought.'

'Concerning whom the accusers stood up, but brought no charge of such things as I supposed;'

'but they had certain questions against him about their own religion, and about a certain Jesus who was dead, whom Paul affirmed to be alive.'

'And being perplexed how to inquire concerning this, I asked whether he would go to Jerusalem, and there be judged of these matters.'

'But when Paul had appealed to be kept for the decision of Augustus, I commanded him to be kept, until I should send him to Caesar.'

'And Agrippa said unto Festus:'

'I also could wish to hear the man myself.'

'And he saith, To-morrow thou shalt hear him.'

See again the accusation of the Jews, made not by Paul, but by the governor.

'The chief priests, saith he, and the elders of the Jews laid information, asking for judgment against him.'

See also what answer he makes, to their shame:

'that it is not the custom of the Romans to give up any man as a favour unto destruction;'

that is, before granting him opportunity to speak, it is impossible simply to give him up as a favour.

And having acted according to custom, he found no ground of accusation;

wherefore he is also at a loss concerning this.

And this is plain from what he adds, saying:

'And being perplexed how to inquire concerning these things—'

Thus he spoke, cloaking his own fault.

And while the one cloaks it, Agrippa desires to see him.

See how the rulers are ever repelling the Jewish importunity, and are often compelled to act contrary to justice, and seek out pretexts for delay;

for indeed he deferred it, not in ignorance, but knowingly.

But Agrippa not only does not repel it, but even wishes to hear;

which is also worthy of wonder—whence he came into the desire of

wishing to see a man who, though unjustly, was nevertheless under accusation.

Thus this too was of God's providence.

Wherefore his wife also listens with him, and is not absent from the hearing.

And she listens not merely so, but with much honour.

So great was the desire she had;

for she would not, unless she had desired it, have sought to hear, nor would he have made the woman a partaker of the hearing, had he not conceived great things concerning him.

But to me it seems that she too longed for this.

And observe how Paul at once discourses not merely about faith, nor only about the remission of sins, but also about the things that must be done.

But let us examine from the beginning the things that have been said.

'For the present,' he says, 'go thy way.'

'and when I have a convenient season, I will call for thee.'

Hearing such things, he expected to receive money from him.

And this was not the only dreadful thing, but also that, though he had conversed with him, he did not release him; but when he was at the end of his term of office, he left him a prisoner, that he might do the Jews a favor.

so that he was enamored not only of money, but also of glory.

How dost thou seek money, O wretch, from a man who preaches the very opposite? And that he did not receive it, is plain from the fact that he left him bound; for he would have loosed him, had he received it.

This man was discoursing about self-control, while that one expected to receive money from him even as he discoursed of these things.

And to ask he did not dare;

for such is wickedness—cowardly, and suspecting everything;

so that with good reason he did them a favor, seeing he had held such great authority there.

'Now when Festus had come into the province,'

'the high priest and the chief of the Jews informed him against Paul,' it says.

At once, and at the very outset, the priests came forward, who would not have shrunk even from coming to Caesarea, had he not gone up first—seeing that they approach him the moment he arrives.

'And having gone down to Caesarea, he tarried ten days.'

Perhaps, I think, so as to give opportunity to those who wished to destroy him.

But Paul was in the prison.

'And they besought him,' it says, 'that he would send for him to Jerusalem.'

And why did they ask a favor, if he deserves to die? But thus even to Festus the plot became manifest, so that in discoursing he said:

'Men who are here present, ye behold this man, about whom the whole multitude of the Jews have made suit to me.'

For by the word 'made suit' he indicates the meaning, 'asking a favor against him.'

So that already they wished to bring him to a verdict of condemnation, fearing the tongue of Paul.

Why are ye afraid? Why do ye press so hard? For this is what the phrase 'that he should be kept' makes plain.

For does he flee? 'Let those,' he says, 'who among you are able, accuse him.'

Again accusers at Caesarea, and again Paul is led forth.

'And on the morrow, having sat,' it says, 'upon the judgment-seat.'

Observe: as soon as he came, he sat upon the judgment-seat;

so did they push him on with such eagerness, so do they press him forward.

So long, then, as he had not yet had experience of the Jews and of the honor paid him by them, he answered rightly;

but when he came to be in Jerusalem, this man also does them a favor;

yet he does not simply grant the favor, but does this with deceit.

'Wilt thou go up to Jerusalem, and there be judged concerning these things before me?' As if he said:

'It is not to them that I give thee up, but I myself will be judge.'

And he says this, and makes himself lord of the matter, that by the honor he might soften him;

since, if there had been a verdict, it would have seemed quite shameless to wish to carry off thither one who had here been convicted of nothing.

But Paul did not say, 'I am not willing,' lest he should make the judge yet more vehement; but again he speaks boldly, and says:

'I stand at Caesar's judgment-seat, where I ought to be judged.'

And observe how he reasons them down;

for by the things wherein he defends himself he all but says this:

'They cast me out once for all, and this they think is to condemn me, by showing that I sinned against Caesar;

before him I wish to be judged, the one who has been wronged.'

'To the Jews I have done no wrong, as thou also very well knowest.'

He now laid hold of him, as of one who was granting a favor.

Then, since he had laid hold of him, he again relaxes his speech, adding:

'If then I am a wrongdoer, or have committed anything worthy of death, I refuse not to die.'

'I pronounce the sentence against myself,' he says.

This belongs not to one who longs for death, but to one exceedingly confident in the things he was speaking of;

for the plea of justice too must be made with boldness, so as to put them to shame.

'But if there be nothing of the things whereof they accuse me, no one can give me up to them.'

'Even should he wish it,' he says, 'he will not be able.'

He did not say, 'I am not worthy to die,' nor, 'to be released,' but, 'I am ready to be judged before Caesar;'

at the same time, calling to mind the vision also, he took the more courage to make his appeal.

And he did not say, 'Thou,' but, 'No one;'

and he added, 'I appeal unto Caesar,' so that the insult might not fall upon that one.

'Then Festus, when he had conferred with the council, answered:'

Sawest thou how he grants a favor? For this is a favor—to confer with the accusers, which is the mark of a corrupted judgment, and one that confounds the proper order.

Observe again how his trial is extended, and how the plot becomes an occasion for the preaching.

For these things are so ordered, that with ease and under guard he might be conveyed to Jerusalem, plotted against by no one;

for it was not the same thing simply to arrive, and to come upon such a charge.

This also caused the Jews to come together there.

Then again time passes as he tarries at Jerusalem, that thou mayest learn that even when time had elapsed, the devices of the plot avail nothing against him, since God permits it not.

'And this Agrippa the king and Bernice came down to Caesarea.'

This Agrippa, who was also called Herod, seems to me to be another, so that this is the fourth after that one in the time of James.

Observe the enemies cooperating against their will.

And that the audience might become a great one, Agrippa fell into a desire to hear him;

and he hears him not simply, but with great preparation.

And behold the defense which the ruler makes:

'But when this man himself had appealed unto Augustus, I determined to send him, concerning whom I have nothing certain to write unto my lord.'

So Festus writes, and the cruelty of the Jews is paraded for all to see;

for when it is the governor who says these things, his testimony is beyond suspicion.

And it is for this reason that he speaks thus, so that the Jews might be condemned even out of his own mouth;

and after all of them have cast their vote against them, then it is that God brings on the punishment.

Lysias condemned them, Felix condemned them, Festus and those who curried favour with them condemned them, Agrippa condemned them.

What then remains? The Pharisees too condemned them.

And that he did condemn them, hear him as he says:

'They brought no charge of the crimes which I had suspected.'

And indeed they did bring charges, but they did not prove them;

for the plot and the reckless attempt gave ground for suspicion, but the examination revealed nothing of the sort.

'And concerning a certain Jesus,' he says, 'who was dead.'

With good reason he says 'a certain Jesus,' inasmuch as he was a man holding office and paying no heed to these matters.

It was from this cause too that he said, 'Being at a loss myself as to the inquiry concerning these things.'

For in truth the investigation of such matters was beyond the hearing of such a judge.

And if you are at a loss, why do you drag him off to Jerusalem? For this reason Paul too, not deeming it right to be judged by him, appeals to Caesar, saying:

'I am standing before Caesar's tribunal, where I ought to be judged;'

for concerning this very thing they were accusing him.

Do you hear the appeal? Do you hear the Jews' plotting? Do you hear the uproar? (4)

All these things roused Agrippa, as he listened, into a desire to hear him.

And Festus grants the favour, and thereafter Paul becomes yet more illustrious.

Such benefits, as I said, did the plots against him procure.

Had these things not happened, none of the rulers would have deigned to hear him, none would have listened with such quietness and silence.

And though he seems to be teaching and making a defence, he is rather delivering a public oration with great orderliness.

Let us not, then, think plots against us to be a grievous thing.

So long as we do not plot against ourselves, no one will be able to plot against us;

or rather, they do plot, but they do us no harm—nay, they even benefit us in the greatest degree;

so that we ourselves are masters both of suffering ill and of not suffering it.

Behold, I solemnly testify, and I say it with a loud voice and clearer than a trumpet—and if it were possible to go up on high and cry it aloud, I would not have refused—that no man among all who dwell upon the earth can harm the Christian.

And why do I speak of men? Not even the demon himself, the tyrant, the devil, can do so—unless a man wrongs his own self;

however much anyone may wish to work us some evil.

For just as no one could harm an angel, so neither can one man harm another man who is upon the earth in like manner.

But neither will he himself be able to harm another, so long as he is good.

What then could be equal to this, when a man can neither be harmed nor harm another? For this is no less than the other—the not wishing to harm another.

Such a one, then, is a kind of angel, and like unto God;

but the angel is such by nature, whereas this man is such by his own choice.

He can therefore neither be harmed, nor harm another.

But when we say 'he cannot,' do not suppose this to be from weakness (for on the contrary it is weakness that harms);

for that nature is capable neither of receiving harm, nor of wronging another;

since this too is another kind of harm.

For we harm ourselves in no other way than by harming another, and the greater part of our sins comes about in this way, through the wrong done to ourselves.

So that for this reason too the Christian cannot be harmed, because neither can he do harm.

But how, in harming others, we harm ourselves—come, let us take up the argument in each of these matters and exercise the point we are making.

Let a man do wrong, let him insult, let him grasp at more than his due;

whom then has such a man harmed? Has he not harmed himself first? This is surely plain to everyone.

For to the one the loss is in his goods, but to himself it is in his soul;

for indeed such a man's soul is delivered over to destruction and to punishment.

Whom then has such a man wronged? Was it not himself, tell me? For such is the nature of wrongdoing;

it harms the one who begets it first, and with a thousand hurts, but the other only slightly—nay, rather, it does not even slightly harm him, but even benefits him.

But I have said nothing that carries conviction.

Let it be so, then (for in these instances above all the whole matter lies): a poor man who has but little money and just enough for his necessary food, and another who is rich and well-off and possessed of much power; and let the rich man take away what belongs to the poor man, and strip him bare, and hand him over to famine, while he himself luxuriates on what he has unjustly seized from him;

such a man has not only done him no harm, but has even benefited him, while to himself he has not only rendered no benefit, but has even done harm.

How so? First, by being scourged by his evil conscience, and pricked day by day, and condemned by all;

and next, in the judgement to come.

But that this man is harmed has hereby been made plain;

but how the other is benefited, tell me.

Because to suffer ill and to bear it nobly carries great gain;

for suffering ill is a loosing of sins, it is an exercise-ground of the love of wisdom, it is a teaching of virtue.

Let us see, then, which of the two is in evil case—this man or that.

For that man, if he be a lover of wisdom, will bear it nobly;

but this man will be day by day in trembling and in dread.

Who then is being wronged—this man or that? 'You are telling fables,' someone says;

for when a man has nothing to eat, and is forced to bewail himself and to fret, or to go begging and receive nothing, does he not thereby destroy soul and body together? You are the one telling fables;

for I am pointing to actual facts.

For tell me, is there none among the rich who frets? What then? Is poverty the cause of this? But does he not go hungry? And what of that? The penalty is the greater, when a man does this in the midst of wealth.

For neither does wealth make a man noble, nor poverty make him weak;

since otherwise none of those living in wealth would live a wretched life, nor would any of those in poverty ever curse himself.

But that the things you allege are indeed fables, I will make plain to you from this.

Tell me, was Paul in poverty or in wealth? Did he go hungry, or not? It is possible to hear him as he says it himself:

Did the prophets go hungry, or not? They too were reduced to distress.

Again you bring me Paul, again you bring the prophets—ten men and twenty!

But from what quarter do you wish? 'From the many,' he says. Point out to me some who bear it nobly.

But what is rare is always of this sort, and few are the good.

And if you please, let us also examine the matter in itself.

Let us see whose anxiety is greater and more bitter, and whose is more easily borne.

Does not the one worry over necessary food, while the other, letting this go, worries over ten thousand affairs? The rich man does not fear famine, but he fears other things—

often for his very safety itself.

The poor man does not have freedom from care about food, but he has the other freedom from care—security and tranquillity.

Besides, if to do wrong were not an evil but a good, why are we ashamed? Why do we hide ourselves? Why, when reproached, do we grow indignant and vexed? If to be wronged were not good, why do we plume ourselves and take pride in the matter, and plead our cause therein? Do you wish to learn how the one is better than the other? Look at those on this side, look at those on that.

Why laws? Why courts of justice? Why punishments? Is it not on account of those men, as being diseased and ailing? 'But the pleasure is great,' he says.

What is worse than a man who lies under such suspicion? What is more precarious? What is more rotten? Is he not perpetually in shipwreck? Even if he does something just, he is not believed, being condemned by all on account of his power;

for he has as accusers all who dwell with him;

he cannot enjoy friendship;

for no one would readily choose to become the friend of a man of such reputation, lest he share in the same suspicion cast upon him.

As from a wild beast, so all turn away from him;

as from a plague and an enemy and a murderer and a foe of nature, they turn away from the unjust man.

If he falls into a court of law, the wrongdoer needs no accuser, for his reputation, in place of every accuser, condemns him.

But not so the one who is wronged; rather, he has all men as defenders, sharing his pain, stretching out a hand to him.

If to do wrong is good and safe, let someone confess himself to be unjust;

but if he does not dare, why then does he pursue it as though it were a good thing? Let us see, too, how even within our own selves, if this happens, how many evils arise.

For tell me: if any of the parts within us, overstepping its proper measure, should reach after another's, and the spleen, forsaking its own place, should wish to seize what belongs to another along with its own, is this not disease? Again, if the moisture within us, the humour, should fill everything, is this not dropsy? Along with it, let the bile too seek more room, and let the blood be poured out on every side.

And what of anger in the soul, and desire, and all the rest—if they overstep their measure, do they not destroy themselves along with it? So too with food;

if more be taken than it can digest, it clothes the body with diseases.

For whence come gouty pains? Whence come the palsies and the trembling of the body? Is it not from the immoderate use of food? Again, in the body, if the eye should wish to take in more, or should desire to see more than what is appointed, or should receive greater light, that which is beyond measure harms rather than helps.

But if, where light is something good, the eye, should it wish to see more, is ruined—

when it sees something too brilliant, consider then the case in what is evil.

If the hearing receives too loud a voice, the mind is stunned;

the mind, whenever it reasons about things beyond itself, is confounded, and whatever exceeds what is due, it utterly loses.

For this is covetousness—to have more than what is appointed.

So indeed it is also with money: whenever we wish to lay on more burdens, even if we do not perceive it, we nourish within ourselves a cruel beast, having much, needing much, encompassing ourselves with ten thousand cares, offering many handles to the devil.

For this reason the devil needs no toil in the case of the wealthy;

for they become ready for his downward assault chiefly by reason of their wealth.

But not so in the case of those who live with poverty; rather, quite the contrary.

Thus these things by their very nature bring destruction.

Therefore I exhort you to abstain from the desire of these things, that we may be able to escape the snares of the evil one, and, laying hold of virtue, to attain the everlasting good things, by the grace and lovingkindness 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. Amen.