使徒行傳講道集 第 6 章

Men of Israel, hear these my words.

The saying is no flattery;

but since he had reproved them severely, he now gives them respite, and seasonably calls David to remembrance.

And again he begins from a preamble;

so that they might not be thrown into a tumult, since he was about to remind them of Jesus.

For up to that point they would not have been troubled at hearing of the prophet, but the name of Jesus would at once have stood in their way.

And he did not say, Be persuaded, but, Hear — which was less burdensome.

And observe how he says nothing lofty, but begins from things exceedingly lowly.

Jesus, he says, the Nazarene.

At once he mentions the native place, which seemed to be of no account.

And meanwhile he says nothing great concerning Him, nor such as one might say concerning a prophet.

Jesus, he says, the Nazarene, a man approved of God among you.

See what a great thing this was, to say that He was sent from God.

For this both he himself, and John, and the Apostles were at pains to show, up and down.

For hear John saying:

He said to me, Upon whomsoever you see the Spirit descending and remaining on Him, this is He.

And Christ Himself does this even in exceeding measure, saying:

I came not of Myself; He sent Me.

And everywhere throughout the Scriptures this above all is the thing earnestly pursued.

Therefore this saint too, the chief of the blessed choir, the lover of Christ, the ardent disciple, he to whom the keys of the heavens were entrusted, who received the spiritual revelation — having subdued them with fear, and shown them to be counted worthy of great things, and having made them ready to believe, then also discourses concerning Him.

Wondrous! What a bold thing he dared, to say in the midst of the murderers that He rose again!

And he does not say that He rose again immediately, but that He has come from God to you.

And this is plain from the things which He did.

He no longer says that He Himself, but that through Him God did these things, so that by his moderation he might the more draw them to Him; and he calls them as witnesses, and says:

A man approved of God among you by mighty works and wonders and signs, which God did through Him in the midst of you, as you yourselves also know.

Then, having fallen upon that accursed deed of theirs, see how he tries to release them from the charge;

for even though it had been foreordained, nevertheless they were murderers.

Him, he says, delivered up by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God,

you took, and by the hands of lawless men nailed up and slew.

He says almost the very same words as Joseph, which that one too spoke to his brothers:

Fear not; for it was not you that sold me hither, but God sent me here.

Then, having said that it was the counsel of God — lest they should say, So then we did this rightly — he brings them to account through what he added, By the hands of lawless men nailing Him up you slew. Here he hints at Judas;

and at the same time he shows them that it was not of their own strength, unless He too had permitted it and God had given Him up.

For this is the meaning of Delivered up.

Thus he brought the whole accusation round upon the head of Judas, the one who had betrayed Him;

for he it was that betrayed Him with the kiss.

Either, then, it is concerning this one that he says, By the hands of lawless men, or he speaks of the soldiers, making plain that You did not simply slay Him, but By the hands of lawless men.

And behold how everywhere they are earnest to have the Passion confessed first of all.

But since the matter of the resurrection was a great thing, he for the time shades it over, and thus in a manner places it in the middle of his discourse.

For those things were acknowledged, namely the cross and the death; but the resurrection was not yet so.

Wherefore afterwards he speaks concerning it, adding:

'Whom God raised up, having loosed the pangs of death, because it was not possible that He should be held by it.'

Here he intimated something great and lofty.

For the expression 'It was not possible' shows also that it was by His own consent that death held Him;

and that death itself, in holding Him, was in travail-pangs, and suffered grievously.

For everywhere Scripture is wont to call danger 'the pang of death';

and that He rose in such wise as never to die again.

Or else, his saying 'Because it was not possible that He should be held by it' is meant to show that His resurrection was not like that of all the rest.

Then, before their minds could conceive anything, he set David before them, sweeping away every human reasoning.

'For David,' says he, 'speaks concerning Him.'

And observe how, once again, the testimony is lowly;

for this very reason he took it up again from the beginning, from the lowlier expressions, that he might show that His death was no cause for grief.

'I foresaw the Lord,' he says, 'always before my face, for He is at my right hand, that I should not be shaken;'

'because Thou wilt not leave my soul in Hades.'

Then, having completed the testimony of the prophet, he adds:

Whenever he is about to say something great, he uses this preamble, thereby rousing them and winning them to himself.

'I may say to you,' he declares, 'with boldness concerning the patriarch David.'

Where it did no harm, he condescends to them.

For this very reason also he did not say, 'These things are spoken concerning Christ, not concerning David';

most prudently: by the great honour shown toward the blessed David he puts them to shame; and as for what was acknowledged and yet might seem a bold thing to have said, he deprecates their displeasure by the praises he gently bestows.

Wherefore neither does he say simply 'concerning David,' but 'concerning the patriarch David, that he both died and was buried.'

He no longer says, 'and did not rise again,' but in another way sets forth the same fact directly, saying:

'And his tomb is with us unto this day.'

Then, having established what he wished, not even so did he come to Christ, but again with praises of David:

'Being therefore a prophet, and knowing that God had sworn to him with an oath.'

This he says, that at least for the honour paid to David and for his lineage they might receive the word concerning the resurrection;

implying that, were this not so, both the prophecy and the honour paid to themselves would suffer harm.

'And knowing,' says he, 'that God had sworn to him with an oath.'

He did not say simply 'promised,' but, what was more, 'swore with an oath, that of the fruit of his loins according to the flesh He would raise up the Christ, to sit upon his throne.'

Observe how once again he intimated the lofty truth.

For since he had calmed them by his words, taking courage he inserted this saying of the prophet, and discourses concerning the resurrection:

'That neither was His soul left in Hades, nor did His flesh see corruption.'

For he shows that His resurrection was not like that of the others.

For death held Him indeed, yet did not then work its own work upon Him.

And the sin he mentioned, but with a veil over it; the punishment, however, he did not add;

he showed only that they had slain Him;

and he comes to the sign that is God's.

But when it is proved that he who was slain was righteous, and a friend of God, then even if you keep silence about the punishment, the one who has sinned will condemn himself all the more.

Everything, then, he ascribes to the Father, that they might receive the things spoken.

Then he adduces the 'not possible' from the prophecy:

Let us then review from the beginning what has been said.

'Jesus of Nazareth,' says he, 'a man demonstrated of God unto you;'

that is, not one in dispute, but one demonstrated by His works.

So also Nicodemus said:

'No man can do these signs which Thou doest.'

'By mighty works,' he says, 'and wonders and signs, which God wrought through Him in the midst of you.'

So then not in secret, if it was in the midst of you.

First he begins from the things known to them, and then proceeds to the things not evident.

Then, by saying 'by the counsel of God,' he shows that it was not they who had the power, and that what was done was a thing of wisdom and a divine dispensation, seeing it was from God.

And the offensive point he passed over quickly.

For everywhere their earnest endeavour is to show that He died.

'Even if you should deny it,' says he, 'they will bear witness.'

But He who gives trouble to death itself, much more would He to those who crucified Him;

yet he says nothing of the kind, such as that He could have destroyed you; he merely intimated it, and no more.

Meanwhile we also learn, through what has been said, what it is 'to hold fast.'

For he that is in travail-pangs does not hold fast what he holds, nor acts, but suffers, and hastens to cast it forth.

'For David says concerning Him' — that you may not draw what is said to the prophet himself.

Do you see how he now interprets the prophecy and lays it bare, showing how He sat upon his throne? For the kingdom according to the Spirit is in the heavens.

Observe how, together with the resurrection, he also declared the kingdom in His rising again.

He shows that the prophet was under necessity;

for the prophecy was concerning Him.

Why did he not say, 'concerning His kingdom,'

but 'concerning His resurrection'? This was a great thing.

And how did He sit upon his throne? As reigning over the Jews.

And if over the Jews, much more over those who crucified Him.

'For His flesh,' he says, 'did not see corruption.'

This seems indeed to be less than the resurrection, yet it is the same thing.

'This Jesus hath God raised up.'

Observe how he does not call Him by any other name.

Of which we all are witnesses.

Having therefore been exalted by the right hand of God.

Again he takes refuge in the Father, though it would have sufficed to have stated the former point;

but he knows how great a thing this is.

Here too he hinted at the Ascension, and that He is in the heavens; yet not even this does he say openly.

Having received, he says, the promise of the Holy Spirit.

Observe how, at the beginning, he did not say that He Himself had sent it down, but the Father;

but when he had made mention of His signs and of the things done to Him by the Jews, and had discoursed concerning the Resurrection, then at length, taking courage, he brings in the discourse about these matters as well, again producing them as witnesses through both of the senses;

and while he mentions the Resurrection continually, of their audacity he speaks but once, so as not to bear too heavily upon them.

Having received, he says, the promise of the Holy Spirit.

But I think that here he calls 'promise' that which was given before the Passion.

Observe how he now makes the whole to be His own work, secretly accomplishing a great point.

For if He Himself poured it out, it is concerning Him that the prophet has spoken above:

In the last days I will pour out of My Spirit upon My menservants and upon My maidservants, and I will show wonders in the heaven above.

Observe what things he inserts in a hidden manner.

But since it was a great thing, he again veils it by the fact that He received it from the Father.

He told the good things that had come to pass, the signs;

he said that He is King;

he said that He Himself gives the Spirit.

For whatever a man may say, if it does not end in something profitable, he speaks in vain.

Just as John also does, saying, He shall baptize you with the Holy Spirit.

And he shows that the Cross not only did not diminish Him, but even rendered Him more illustrious, seeing that of old God had promised it to Him, but then He gave it.

Or, the promise, he says, which He promised to us.

So he foreknew it would come to pass, and after the Cross He bestowed on us even greater things.

Here he sets forth the dignity;

and that it was not simply, but even with abundance.

Wherefore also, making this very thing plain, he adds what follows.

For henceforth, with confidence, after the giving of the Spirit, he discourses also concerning the Ascension into the heavens;

and not simply, but again bringing forward the witness, and reminding them of him concerning whom Christ had spoken.

For David, he says, did not ascend into the heavens.

Here he no longer harangues with reserve, having the confidence derived from what has been said, nor does he say:

'One might say,' nor any such qualifications;

but he says openly, The Lord said to my Lord, Sit at My right hand, until I make Your enemies a footstool for Your feet.

And if He is David's Lord, much more is He theirs.

Until I make Your enemies a footstool for Your feet.

Here also he inspired great fear, just as at the beginning he showed what things He works for His friends, what things for His enemies.

And again he ascribes the dominion to the Father, that it may not be disbelieved.

Since therefore he had uttered great things, again he brings the discourse down to lowly matters.

Let all the house of Israel therefore know assuredly, he says;

that is, Do not dispute, nor be in doubt.

Then also, in an authoritative manner, henceforth:

That God has made Him both Lord and Christ.

This he recorded from David and from the Psalm.

For when he ought to have said, Let all the house of Israel therefore know assuredly that He sits at the right hand—which was a great thing—leaving this aside, he brings in another statement, saying something far more lowly: He made, that is, He appointed.

So that here there is nothing about essence, but all that he says is about this.

This Jesus, whom you crucified.

Well did he here bring it to a close, shaking their minds.

For when he had shown how great He is, then at length he also laid bare their audacity, so as to make it appear greater and to seize them with fear.

For men are not so much led on by benefits as they are brought to their senses by fear.

But the admirable and great, those who are dear to God, need none of these things;

for he took no account of kingdom, nor of hell.

This is to love Christ; this is not to be a hireling, nor to regard the matter as traffic and huckstering, but to be truly virtuous, and to do all things because it is dear to God.

Of how many tears then are we worthy, when, owing so great a measure, we do not pursue the kingdom of heaven even as hucksters would? He promises us so many things, and not even so do we listen? What could be equal to this enmity? And yet those who are mad after money, though they find men to be enemies, or slaves, or utterly hostile, or thoroughly wicked, provided only they expect that through them they will be able to get money, do all things, and flatter, and pay court, and become slaves, and count them more venerable than all men, that they may receive something from them;

for the hope of money does not allow them to think of any of these things.

But the kingdom has not prevailed as much as money has—nay, not even the smallest fraction as much;

and yet it is no ordinary person who promises it, but One incomparably greater even than the kingdom itself.

But when both that which is promised is a kingdom, and God is He who gives it, it is a great thing even to receive from such a One.

But now the same thing happens as if a king, wishing to make us his heirs and joint-heirs with his son, after countless other benefits, should be despised;

while a robber-chief, who has done countless mischiefs both to us and to our parents, and is laden with countless evils, and has brought shame upon both our glory and our salvation, should be worshipped by us for merely showing a single obol.

God promises a kingdom, and is despised;

the devil procures hell, and is honored.

This one is God, that one is the devil.

But let us look at the difference of their commands.

For if none of these things were so—if this One were not God, and that one the devil;

nor did this One procure a kingdom, and that one hell;

would not the very nature of the commands themselves be sufficient to persuade us to attach ourselves to this One? What then does each of them enjoin? That one, the things that bring shame; this One, the things that make men glorious;

that one, the things that involve men in countless calamities and disgraces; this One, the things that bring much repose.

This One says, Learn of Me, that

I am meek and lowly in heart, and you shall find rest for your souls;

That one says, 'Be savage and untamed, quick-tempered and prone to wrath, and a wild beast rather than a man.'

Let us then consider which is the more profitable, and which the more beneficial.

But not this alone; rather, consider that the one giving these commands is the devil.

For the more that is made clear, the greater again will be the prizes of victory.

For he is not a guardian who imposes easy things, but one who imposes what is profitable.

Since fathers too impose burdensome things, and masters likewise upon their servants;

but for this very reason the ones are fathers, and the others masters;

while those others are enslavers and destroyers and everything to the contrary.

Moreover, that it also holds pleasure is clear from this.

For in what state do you suppose the quick-tempered man to be, and in what the long-suffering and gentle? Is not the soul of the latter like some solitude possessing great tranquillity;

whereas the soul of the former is like a marketplace and a tumult, where there is much shouting of attendants, of camels and mules

and asses, crying out loudly to passers-by lest they be trampled? Is not the soul of such a man again like the very middle of cities, where now from this side rises the great noise of silversmiths, now from that of coppersmiths, and some do injury while others are injured? But the soul of the other is like some mountain peak, having a thin breeze, receiving the pure sunbeam, pouring forth the clear streams of its springs, and putting forth the many graces of its flowers, like the meadows and gardens of spring, luxuriant with plants and blossoms and flowing waters;

and if any sound should arise, it is clear and shrill, pouring much pleasure over those who hear.

For either songbirds perch on the topmost leaves of the trees, and cicadas and nightingales and swallows together produce one harmonious music;

or the west wind, gently falling upon the leaves of the trees, imitates the pines and firs whistling, and often the swans;

or a meadow, putting forth roses and lilies inclined toward one another and gleaming dark-blue, like a dark sea gently rippling, presents itself to view.

Rather, one might find many images.

For when one looks upon the roses, he will think he beholds the rainbow;

and when upon the violets, a rippling sea;

and when upon the lilies, the heaven.

And such a man would then take delight not only in the spectacle, nor in the sight alone, but also in the body itself.

For it relaxes him the more and makes him breathe freely, so that he supposes himself to be in heaven rather than upon earth.

There is also another kind of sound, when water, borne of its own accord from the mountain-top through gullies, and gently plashing upon the pebbles beneath with a soft murmur, so loosens our limbs with pleasure that it swiftly brings upon the eyes a sleep that unbinds the limbs.

You have listened to the description with delight;

perhaps you have even become lovers of the solitude.

But far sweeter than this solitude is the soul of the long-suffering man.

For it was not that we might sketch a meadow, nor that we might bring forward this discourse for display, that we took up this image;

but that, having seen through this depiction how great is the pleasure of the long-suffering, and that a man would take far greater delight and profit by associating with a long-suffering man than by frequenting such places, you might earnestly pursue such men.

For when no violent wind issues from such a soul, but only gentle and mild words, truly imaging that calm of the west wind, and exhortations that have nothing harsh in them, but imitate the songbirds—

how is this not better? For the breeze of the word does not fall upon the body, but refreshes souls.

A physician could not so swiftly rid a fevered man of his fever, by whatever diligence, as a long-suffering man, taking hold of one who is irascible and inflamed with anger, would cool him by the breath of his own kindly words.

And why do I speak of a physician? Not even iron, heated red-hot and dipped in water, so swiftly loses its heat as an irascible man does when he falls upon a long-suffering soul.

And just as in the marketplace, if songbirds should enter, they seem even to be a nuisance;

so indeed also our admonitions, falling upon quick-tempered souls, [seem so].

Sweeter is gentleness than bitterness and insolence.

And not this alone, but the one thing the devil commanded, the other God enjoined.

You see that I did not simply say that, even if there were no devil and no God, the injunctions themselves would be sufficient to turn us away.

For the one man is both pleasant to himself and profitable to others;

while the other is both unpleasant to himself and harmful to others.

For nothing is more joyless than a wrathful man, nothing more burdensome, nothing more oppressive, nothing more shameful; just as, on the other hand, nothing is more pleasant than one who does not know how to be angry.

It is better to dwell with a wild beast than with such a man.

For that beast, once it has been tamed, keeps to its own nature;

but this man, however often you tame him, again grows savage, once he has settled himself into some such habit.

For just as a bright and cheerful day, and a winter full of much gloom, are different from one another;

so too are the soul of the angry man and that of the gentle.

But let us not yet look at the harm that befalls others, but at that which befalls the men themselves;

and yet this too is no small harm, to give evil to another;

nevertheless, for the present let us consider this.

What executioner could so tear the sides? What red-hot spits pierce the body? What madness could so drive one out of his natural senses as anger and frenzy? I know many who have brought forth diseases from anger.

And the grievous fevers are especially these.

But if they so ruin the body, consider the soul.

For do not reason thus, that you do not see it;

but consider that, if the thing which receives the wickedness is so injured, how great an injury must the thing which begets it sustain? Many have lost their eyes, many have fallen into the gravest illness.

But he who bears things nobly will endure all things with ease.

But nevertheless he [the devil] imposes such burdensome things, and for these sets before us as our wage—hell.

And he is the devil and an enemy of our salvation, and yet we obey him rather than Christ, who is Saviour and Benefactor, and who says such things as are both more pleasant and more profitable and more useful, and who benefits both us and those who are with us in the greatest measure.

Nothing is worse than anger, beloved, nothing worse than untimely wrath;

it needs no long delay;

often a man has cast out a word under the sway of wrath, for the healing of which he needs a whole lifetime;

and he has wrought something that has overturned his whole life.

For this is the grievous thing, that even in a brief moment, and through a single deed, and by one word alone, it has often cast us out of the eternal good things, and emptied out ten thousand labours.

Wherefore I exhort you to do everything so as to bridle this beast.

But these things concern gentleness and wrath;

and if one should bring forward for discussion the other things also—such as covetousness, contempt for riches, licentiousness, self-control, envy, kindliness—and compare them, he will know yet another difference. Do you see how, from the commands alone, the one is shown to be God, and the other the devil? Let us then obey God, and not cast ourselves into pits, but while it is yet time, let us wash away all things that ruin the soul, that we may obtain the eternal 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.