使徒行傳講道集 第 54 章

"And the king rose up, and the governor, and Bernice, and those who sat with them.

And when they had withdrawn, they spoke to one another, saying that This man does nothing worthy of death or of bonds."

"And Agrippa said to Festus:

This man might have been set free, if he had not appealed to Caesar."

See how once again they cast their vote in his favour.

And after saying, "You are mad," they set him free, not from death only, but even from his bonds.

And they would have entirely released him, had he not appealed to Caesar.

But this came to pass by a divine dispensation.

And not only this, but also his departing in bonds.

Even to the point of bonds, as though a malefactor.

For if his Lord was reckoned among the lawless, much more this man.

But just as that One did not share in the disgrace, so neither does this man.

For the marvellous thing is then made manifest, that being mingled with these he is in no way harmed by them.

And when it was determined that we should sail away

into Italy, they delivered Paul and certain other prisoners to a centurion named Julius, of the Augustan cohort.

And embarking in a ship of Adramyttium, which was about to sail to the places along Asia, we put out to sea, Aristarchus, a Macedonian of Thessalonica, being with us.

And on the next day we put in at Sidon.

See how far Aristarchus also accompanies Paul.

Fittingly and usefully is Aristarchus present, since he was about to report everything back in Macedonia.

And Julius, treating Paul kindly, gave him leave to go to his friends and receive their care.

And putting out to sea from there, we sailed under the lee of Cyprus, because the winds were contrary.

Julius, it says, having treated Paul kindly, gave him leave.

He does well in granting this, so that Paul might go to his acquaintances and receive their care.

For it was likely that he was much worn out from the bonds, from fear, from being led about and driven hither and thither.

See how he does not even conceal this, that Paul wished to receive their care.

Again trials, again contrary winds.

See how through all things the life of the saints is thus woven together.

They escaped the tribunal, and they fall into shipwreck and tempest.

And having sailed across the sea that is off Cilicia and Pamphylia, we came down to Myra of Lycia.

And there the centurion, finding a ship of Alexandria sailing to Italy, put us on board it.

Finding a ship, it says, of Alexandria.

It is found fittingly, so that those men might report the things concerning Paul to Asia, and these to Lycia.

See how God introduces nothing new nor makes any change, but permits him to sail with unfavorable winds.

But even so He works a wonder.

For so that they might sail safely, He did not let them go out into the open sea, but they always sailed close to land.

And sailing slowly for many days, and having scarcely come off Cnidus, since the wind did not permit us, we sailed under the lee of Crete off Salmone;

and coasting along it with difficulty, we came to a certain place called Fair Havens, near to which was the city of Lasea.

And when much time had passed, and the voyage was now dangerous, because the Fast was already gone by, Paul admonished them, saying to them:

Men, I perceive that the voyage is about to be with injury and much loss, not only of the cargo and of the ship, but also of our lives.

But the centurion trusted the pilot and the shipowner rather than the things spoken by Paul.

The Fast here I take to mean that of the Jews.

For after Pentecost they set out from there after a long time, so that they arrived at the parts of Crete almost in winter itself.

And this too is no small wonder, that those others also were preserved for his sake.

Men, I perceive, he says, that the voyage is about to be with injury and much loss, not only of the cargo and of the ship, but also of our lives.

Paul then bade them stay, and foretells the things to come;

but they, being pressed for time and hindered by the place, wished to winter at Phoenix.

And consider the divine ordering;

first they weighed anchor and were putting out, then, when a wind fell upon them, they gave way to what carried them, and were scarcely saved.

And since the harbour was not suitable for wintering, the majority formed the plan to put out from there, if by any means they might reach Phoenix and winter there, a harbour of Crete looking toward the southwest and toward the northwest.

And when a south wind blew softly, supposing that they had gained their purpose, they weighed anchor and coasted along Crete close by Assos.

But not long after there beat down from it a tempestuous wind called Euroclydon;

and when the ship was caught and could not face the wind, we gave way to it and were carried along.

And running under a certain little island called Clauda, we were scarcely able to get the boat under control;

which having hoisted up, they used helps, undergirding the ship;

and fearing lest they should fall into the Syrtis, they lowered the sail and so were carried along.

And as we were being violently tossed by the storm, on the next day they made a jettison;

and on the third day with our own hands we cast out the tackle of the ship.

And when neither sun nor stars appeared for many days, and no small tempest lay upon us, thereafter all hope that we should be saved was taken away.

And when there had been much abstinence from food, then Paul stood up in the midst of them and said:

after so great a tempest he does not converse with them by way of trampling upon them, but wishing that at least for the future he might be believed.

Wherefore he also takes the things that have happened as a testimony to the truth of the things about to be spoken.

And he foretells two things: both that they must fall upon an island, and that the ship indeed would be lost, but those on board would be saved (which was not a matter of conjecture, but of prophecy), and that he must stand before Caesar.

But as for the words, 'God has granted you all,' which he said, they are not of boastfulness, but of one wishing to win over those sailing with him;

for not that they might be thankful to him, but that they might be persuaded by the things spoken by him, did he so speak.

And the words, 'God has granted you,' were spoken to Paul.

This is what he all but says to him:

They indeed are worthy to die, since they disobeyed;

nevertheless, for your grace's sake this comes to pass.

And when there was, he says, much abstinence from food, then Paul stood up in the midst of them and said:

You ought indeed, O men, to have hearkened to me and not to have set sail from Crete, and so to have gained this injury and loss.

And now I exhort you to be of good cheer;

for there shall be no loss of any life among you, but only of the ship.

For there stood by me this night an angel of the God whose I am, and whom I serve, saying:

You must stand before Caesar;

and behold, God has granted you all those who are sailing with you.

For I believe God, that it shall be even so as it has been spoken to me.

But we must fall upon a certain island.

And when the fourteenth night was come, as we were driven up and down in the Adriatic, about midnight the sailors surmised that some land was drawing near to them;

and having sounded, they found twenty fathoms;

and having gone a little further and again sounded, they found fifteen fathoms;

and fearing lest we should somehow fall upon rugged places, they cast four anchors out of the stern and prayed for day to come.

And when the sailors were seeking to flee out of the ship, and had lowered the boat into the sea, under pretense as though they were about to lay out anchors from the bow, Paul said to the centurion and to the soldiers:

Unless these remain in the ship, you cannot be saved.

Then the soldiers cut away the ropes of the ship's boat and let it fall away.

Here he shows that the sailors were about to flee, because they did not believe what had been spoken;

but the centurion, together with the soldiers, believes.

'If these men flee, you cannot be saved.'

He said this not on that account alone, but that he might hold them fast, and that the prophecy might not fall to the ground.

Observe how, as in a church, they are being instructed in Paul's philosophy—the very men whom he also saves out of the very midst of the perils.

And by a wise dispensation Paul is disbelieved, so that after the trial of events he might be believed;

and he again exhorts them to partake of food, and they are persuaded;

and he himself first partakes, persuading them not by word only but also by deed that the storm had done them no harm, but had rather even profited their souls.

And until the day was about to dawn, Paul kept exhorting them all to partake of food, saying:

'This is now the fourteenth day that you continue in suspense and fasting, having taken nothing.'

'Therefore I exhort you to partake of food;'

'for this is for your own preservation;'

'for not a hair shall fall from the head of any one of you.'

And having said this, and taken bread, he gave thanks to God before them all, and having broken it he began to eat.

And they all being of good cheer, themselves also partook of food.

And we were in the ship, all the souls together, two hundred and seventy-six.

And having been satisfied with food, they lightened the ship by throwing the wheat into the sea.

And when it was day, they did not recognize the land;

but they perceived a certain bay having a shore, into which they took counsel, if it were possible, to drive the ship.

And having taken up the anchors, they committed the ship

to the sea, at the same time loosing the lashings of the rudders;

and having hoisted the foresail to the wind, they made for the shore.

But falling into a place where two seas met, they ran the vessel aground;

and the bow, sticking fast, remained immovable, but the stern was being broken up by the violence of the waves.

Again the devil attempts to hinder the prophecy;

and they were minded to kill some, but the centurion did not permit it, in order that he might save Paul;

so completely had he by now become attached to him.

And there was a purpose among the soldiers to kill the prisoners, lest any should swim out and escape.

But the centurion, wishing to save Paul, hindered them from their purpose, and commanded that those who could swim should cast themselves overboard first and get to land, and the rest, some on planks and some on some of the pieces from the ship.

And so it came to pass that all were brought safely to land.

And having been saved, they then learned that the island is called Melita.

Do you see how great a good came from the storm? The storm, then, was not a mark of abandonment.

'And how,' one asks, 'did they endure being without food and taking nothing?' Fear held them fast and did not suffer them to fall into any desire of food, since they were about to be in peril of their very lives.

Now that which came to pass came about from the circumstance;

but the marvel was greater—that in such a crisis they were saved out of the very midst of the perils, both he himself and, through him, the rest.

And having hoisted the foresail to the wind, they made for the shore.

This he said, wishing to show the violence which they endured while tossed by the storm;

for often they do not act thus.

Wherefore also they lowered the sailcloth, that is, the sails (for when the wind is fierce, this is done), checking the rush of the blast.

And these things they suffer in the Adriatic, where safety is hard to come by.

And we were in the ship, all the souls together, two hundred and seventy-six.

And whence is it clear that those sailing together were so many? It was likely that they questioned them as to the reason for which they sailed, and learned everything.

But they partook of nothing, because they had no thought of food, seeing that the danger was no ordinary one.

And observe how it was not without purpose that the prolonging of the voyage befell Paul, nor was the voyage ill-timed, but he makes it an occasion for teaching.

And this was no small thing, if indeed all these men believed.

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

And when considerable time had passed, and the voyage was now dangerous, Paul admonished them, saying to them:

'Sirs, I perceive that this voyage is about to be with injury and much loss.'

That he might not seem to be prophesying, but to be speaking as from conjecture, he says, 'I perceive';

for they would not have accepted it, had he said this outright.

At all events he first prophesies, and says:

'The God whom I serve,' leading them on.

How then did it not come to pass with loss of lives? It would have, had not God delivered them.

For as far as concerned the nature of the matter, they would have perished;

'But the centurion,' he says, 'believed the pilot rather than the things spoken by Paul.'

That it might be shown that he did not say these things from conjecture, the pilot says the contrary—and that, though he was experienced;

so that what was spoken was not from conjecture.

'And the harbour being unsuitable,' he says.

Observe, the very place also teaches that it was not from conjecture, being unsuitable;

rather, it is the majority of those men who appear to be speaking from conjecture, they who also take counsel to put out from there;

but nothing more comes to them from this;

for they fall into a tempest, and make a jettison of the things they were carrying.

Wherefore also, making this plain, he added:

'And as we were being violently tossed by the storm, we with our own hands threw out the ship's tackle.'

That they might not afterwards be able to disobey, these things are permitted.

And a grievous storm arises, and much darkness comes on.

Then, that they might not perish, both the wheat is thrown out and everything else;

for this is the meaning of, 'We threw out the ship's tackle.'

And there being much abstinence from food, Paul said:

You ought to have obeyed me and so have spared yourselves this loss.

Do you see how greatly both the storm and the darkness contributed to their attentiveness? And observe how the centurion is persuaded, so as both to let the boat go and to do the rest.

But if the sailors were not yet persuaded, and only afterwards yielded, do not be astonished;

for indeed their kind is somehow reckless and hard to persuade.

But consider for me the prudence of Paul, even from this.

For he does not rebuke or grow harsh, but gently he says, 'Thus it ought to have been.'

For he knew that one who lays blame in the midst of calamity is not readily received; but when the greater part of the calamity has passed by, then he becomes acceptable.

Therefore he presses his point then, when all hope of being saved had been taken away;

then too he foretells the good things.

'And when the fourteenth night came,' he says, 'being afraid, they prayed that day would come.'

Lest anyone should say that nothing had happened, he added this, showing that all had come to pass.

And that it did come to pass, their fear also bears witness;

'for being afraid,' he says, 'they prayed that day would come.'

For such things happen along the Adriatic.

'For today is the fourteenth day that you continue in expectation without food.'

So that on every side they were in the midst of death;

'I beseech you to take some food.'

'For this pertains to your own preservation;'

that is, 'Lest you perish of hunger, partake of food.'

'And taking bread,' he says, 'he gave thanks to God.'

Observe: his giving thanks over what had happened not only strengthened them, but also made them cheerful.

'And we were,' he says, 'in all two hundred seventy-six souls in the ship.'

'There shall be no loss of life among you.'

This belongs to a soul fully assured — to say that they would be saved.

'And when they had eaten enough of the food, they lightened the ship by casting out the wheat.'

Do you see? Only to take food are they persuaded;

but thereafter they so cast the whole matter upon Paul, as even to throw out the wheat.

Observe them doing the human things as well, and Paul not hindering them.

'And when day came,' he says, 'they loosed the rudder-bands.'

The ship is broken up in the daytime, that they might not be broken by fear, and that you might see the prophecy fulfilled in deed.

'And the soldiers' counsel was to kill the prisoners.'

Do you see that in this too they were granted a favour for Paul's sake? For on his account the centurion did not permit them to be put to death.

So confessedly wicked, it seems to me, were those men, that they chose even to kill them; but nothing further came of it, their purpose being hindered; rather, some swam out, others were carried on planks, and all were thus saved, and the prophecy reached its fulfilment — though not one made venerable by lapse of time;

for he had not foretold it many years before, but following the natural course of events;

for all things were beyond hope, and through their own deliverance they came to learn who Paul was.

Why did he not also save the ship? That they might learn from what a peril they had escaped;

that the whole matter was not of human aid, but of the hand of God saving even without a ship.

So that the righteous, even if they be in a storm, even if on the sea, even if in the deep, suffer nothing dreadful, but even save others together with themselves.

If a ship in peril and undergoing shipwreck, and prisoners besides, were saved for Paul's sake, consider what it is to have a holy man in a household;

for many storms beset us also, and far more grievous than these; but He is able to grant us deliverance too, only if we obey the saints as those men did, if we do what they command.

For they were not saved simply, but they themselves also contributed faith.

Even if the holy one be a prisoner, he accomplishes greater things than those who are free.

And consider that this very thing came to pass here.

The unbound centurion had need of the bound man;

the skilled pilot had need of the one who was no pilot — or rather, of the one who was truly the pilot.

For he was steering no such vessel, but the Church of the whole world, having learned from Him who is Lord even of the sea — not by human skill, but by spiritual wisdom.

In this vessel are many shipwrecks, many waves, spirits of wickedness: within, fightings; without, fears;

so that he was the true pilot.

Consider indeed how our whole life is of this sort.

For at one time we enjoy loving-kindness, at another a storm; sometimes too, through our own ill counsel and through slothfulness, we fall into countless evils;

and this comes about through not listening to Paul, when we are eager to depart somewhere he does not bid us go.

For he sails with us even now, yet not bound as he was then;

he exhorts even now, and says to those on this sea:

'For after my departure grievous wolves shall enter in among you;'

and again, 'In the last times perilous seasons shall come, and men shall be lovers of self, lovers of money, boasters.'

This is more grievous than all the winds.

Let us therefore abide where he bids, upon the faith, upon the safe harbour;

let us hearken to him rather than to the pilot within us, that is, to our own reasoning.

Let us not do whatever this one may suggest, nor whatever the shipmaster suggests, but whatever Paul may bid;

he passed through countless such storms.

Let us not learn by experience, but before the trial let us be spared both insult and loss.

'Those who wish to be rich fall into temptation.'

Let us therefore obey him, since those men too, not having obeyed, — you see what they suffered.

And again elsewhere he tells what causes shipwrecks;

'who,' he says, 'have made shipwreck concerning the faith.'

'But do you abide in the things you have learned and been assured of.'

And even if we be in the midst of a storm, we shall by all means be delivered from the dangers; even if for fourteen days we remain without food, even if the hope of salvation should fail, even if we be in darkness and gloom, yet if we obey him, we shall be delivered from the dangers.

Let us consider the whole world to be a ship, and in it the evildoers and those full of countless mischiefs — some being rulers, some guards, some righteous, such as Paul, and some prisoners, bound by their sins;

if then we obey Paul, we do not perish though bound, but are even loosed;

God will grant us also to him as a favour.

Or do you not think that sins and passions are a grievous bond? For it is not the hands alone that are bound, but the whole man.

For tell me: when a man possesses much wealth yet neither spends nor expends it, but hoards it, is he not bound by his miserliness with a bond harder than that of any prisoner, a bond that cannot be broken? And what of it, when a man subjects himself to fate—is he not again bound with yet other bonds? And what of it, when he yields to divinations? And what, when to omens? Are not these things harder than any fetter? And what, when to irrational lust and passion? Who shall break these bonds asunder for you? There is need of God, that they may be loosed.

And one of these alone is enough to bring about danger;

but when there are both bonds and a storm, consider how great the peril must be.

For what was there that was not enough to destroy them? Was it not famine, the storm, the wickedness of those sailing with them, the unfavorableness of the season? Yet against all these things stood the splendor of Paul.

Let us keep the saints beside ourselves, and there will be no storm;

or rather, even if there be a storm, there will be fair weather and great calm, and deliverance from dangers;

since that widow had the holy man as her friend, and the death of her child was undone, and she received her son back again alive.

Where the feet of the saints tread, nothing shall be grievous;

and even if it should come to pass, it is for a testing and for the greater glory of God.

Accustom the floor of your house to be trodden by such feet, and no demon shall tread there;

For just as where there is fragrance, foul odor can have no place,

so also where the holy ointment is, the demon is stifled; it gladdens those who are present, refreshes the soul, and gives it relief.

Where there are thorns, there are wild beasts;

where there is hospitality, there are no thorns;

for almsgiving, when it enters in, cuts down the thorns more keenly than any sickle, more fiercely than any fire.

It stands in awe of the footsteps of the saints, as foxes do of lions.

For 'the righteous,' it says, 'is confident as a lion.'

Let us bring these lions into the house, and all the wild beasts are put to flight—not when they roar loudly, but when they simply speak.

For the roaring of a lion does not put wild beasts to flight so effectively as the prayer of a righteous man puts demons to flight;

if he but utter a word, they cower in terror.

'And where now,' one says, 'are such men to be found?' Everywhere, if we believe, if we seek, if we search diligently.

Where have you sought? Tell me. When did you make this your task? When did you set yourself to this matter? But if you do not seek, do not marvel that you do not find.

For it is he who seeks that finds, not he who does not seek.

Listen to those who dwell in the deserts;

put away gold and silver;

they are everywhere throughout the inhabited world.

And if you do not receive him in your house, go yourself to him, keep company with the man, betake yourself to his dwelling, that you may be able to obtain and enjoy the blessing that comes from him.

For great is the blessing that comes from the saints, which let us be zealous to obtain, that being helped through their prayers, we may enjoy the loving-kindness of the God who strengthens them, by the grace and loving-kindness of His only-begotten Son, with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, and honor, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.