
THE
MESSAGE OF ACTS
A
Commentary by John Stott
(Study 24)
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Acts.
15:1 - 16:5. Permanent
lessons - Fellowship: an issue of Christian love It
was one thing to secure the gospel from corruption; it was another to
preserve the church from fragmentation. Paul was resolutely unwilling to
compromise `the truth of the gospel' (Gal.2:14). He resisted the
Judaizers, rebuked Peter publicly, and wrote a passionate appeal to the
Galatians (e.g. Gal.1:6-9; 3:1-5; 5:2-6). At the same time, he was
extremely anxious to maintain Jewish-Gentile solidarity in the one body
of Christ. So how could he unite the church without compromising the
gospel, or defend the integrity of the gospel without sacrificing the
unity of the church? His answer reveals the greatness of his mind and
heart. Once
the theological principle was firmly established, that salvation is by
grace alone, and that circumcision was not required but neutral, he was
prepared to adjust his practical policies. He made two notable
concessions, both for the same conciliatory reason. First, he accepted
the four cultural abstentions proposed by the Jewish leaders to Gentile
converts, because Moses was widely read and preached, and this Gentile
restraint would ease Jewish consciences and facilitate Jewish-Gentile
social intercourse. Secondly, he circumcised Timothy (he who had just
been fulminating against circumcision!), out of consideration for the
Jews who would be offended if he remained uncircumcised. Some
commentators have been so astonished by the apparent discrepancy between
Paul the inflexible, who opposed circumcision, and Paul the flexible who
circumcised Timothy, that they have pronounced them irreconcilable. This
was the main reason why F.C.Baur wrote: `the Paul of the Acts is
manifestly quite a different person from the Paul of the Epistles'. But
the fact is that the discrepancy is found within the Acts narrative
itself. Besides, Paul's concessions in Acts 15 and 16 are entirely in
keeping with the conciliatory teaching of his letters. He urged
Christians with a `strong' (or educated) conscience not to violate the
consciences of the `weak' (or over-scrupulous). A strong conscience
gives us liberty of behaviour, but we should limit our liberty out of
love for the weak (e.g. Rom.14 and 1 Cor. 8. Again, though free, Paul
was willing to make himself a slave to others. To those under the law he
was prepared to become like one under the law, in order to win those
under the law (1 Cor. 9:19-20). Was that not exactly what he was doing
when he circumcised Timothy, as also when some years later he accepted
James' proposal in Jerusalem that he join in certain Jewish purification
rites (21:17-26)? We
may say, then, that the Jerusalem Council secured a double victory - a
victory of truth in confirming the gospel of grace, and a victory of
love in preserving the fellowship by sensitive concessions to
conscientious Jewish scruples. As Luther put it, Paul was strong in
faith, and soft in love. So, `as concerning faith we ought to be
invincible, and more hard, if it might be, than the adamant stone; but
as touching charity, we ought to be soft, and more flexible than the
reed or leaf that is shaken with the wind, and ready to yield to
everything'. Or as John Newton once said during a meeting of the
Eclectic Society in 1799, `Paul was a reed in non-essentials, - an iron
pillar in essentials'. Acts 16:6-17:15 The Mission in Macedonia The
most notable feature of Paul's second missionary expedition, which Luke
narrates in these chapters, is that during it the good seed of the
gospel was now for the first time planted
in European soil. Of course there was in those days no line of
demarcation between `Asia' and `Europe', and the missionaries sailing
across the northern part of the Aegean Sea were conscious of travelling
only from one province to another, not from one continent to another,
since both shores of the Aegean belonged to the Roman Empire.
Nevertheless, I agree with Campbell Morgan who wrote: `That invasion of
Europe was not in the mind of Paul, but it is evidently in the mind of
the Spirit'. With the benefit of hindsight, knowing that Europe became
the first Christian continent and was until fairly recently the main
base for missionary outreach to the rest of the world, we can see what
an epoch-making development this was. It was from Europe that in due
course the gospel fanned out to the great continents of Africa, Asia,
North America, Latin America and Oceania, and so reached the ends of the
earth. What
Paul and his companions were conscious of doing was to establish new
churches in three Roman provinces during the second missionary journey,
which they had not penetrated during the first. In the first they had
concentrated exclusively on Cyprus and Galatia; in the second they
reached Macedonia and
Achaia, the provinces of northern and southern Greece respectively, and
they just touched the province of Asia by visiting Ephesus, promising to
return during their next journey. Moreover, in each case the
missionaries included the capital city in their itinerary - Thessalonica
being Macedonia's capital, Corinth being Achaia's, and Ephesus being
Asia's. In addition, to each of the churches in these capital cities
Paul was later to write, namely his letters to the Thessalonians, the
Corinthians and the Ephesians. In this chapter we focus on his mission
to Macedonian, which involved visits to three principal Macedonian
cities, Philippi, Thessalonica and Berea. How,
then, did the missionaries come to reach Europe? Paul had set out from
Syrian Antioch, again commended by the church to God's grace, not
primarily in order to plant new churches, but to nurture and strengthen
those planted several years previously during his first expedition. The
verb translated `visit' in 15:36 (*episkeptomai*) is linked with *episkope*,
pastoral oversight, and is used of visiting the sick (Mat. 25:36,43) and
of looking after widows and orphans (Jas. 1:27). Paul was more than a
pioneer missionary; he was concerned to see churches and believers grow
into maturity. So he and his companions
spent some time in Derbe and Lystra, and then in Iconium and Pisidian
Antioch, which is probably what Luke meant by *the region of Phrygia and
Galatia*, namely `the Phrygian region of the province of Galatia'. It is
very instructive to see how God guided them in their next moves.
(vv.6-10). Pisidian
Antioch, the centre of the Phrygian region, was also very close to the
border of the province of Asia. It was natural, therefore, that the
missionaries' eyes should look south-west along the *via Sebaste* which
led to Colosse (about 150 miles) and then to the coast of Ephesus
(almost as many miles beyond). In fact, they seem to have travelled some
way along this road, but in some undefined way were prevented by the
Holy Spirit *from preaching the word in the province of Asia* (6). With
the south-westerly route blocked, they turned north, until they reached
*the border of Mysia*, which was not a Roman administrative region but
an old name for much of Asia Minor's north-westerly bulge. Here they
tried to continue north and enter Bithynia,
the province situated on the southern shore of the Black Sea, including
towns like Nicea and Nicomedia. But again, in some way which Luke does
not explain, *the Spirit of Jesus would not allow them to* (7). It has
been conjectured from the fact that Peter later wrote to the Christian
dispersion in these parts including Asia and Bithynia (1 Pet.1:1), that
Paul was kept from evangelizing there in order to make way for Peter.
But how the Holy Spirit did his preventive work on these two occasions
we can only guess. It may have been through giving the missionaries a
strong, united inward impression, or through some outward circumstance
like illness, Jewish opposition or legal ban, or through the utterance
of a Christian prophet, perhaps Silas himself (15:32). At all events,
having come from the east, and having found the south-westerly and
northerly roads obstructed, the only direction left open to them was
north-west. So they went `through' Mysia (JB) or *passed by* it, which
could mean either that they `neglected' it, in the sense that they did
not stop to evangelize there, or that they `skirted' it (NEB), because
there was no main road straight through its territory to the coast.
Whichever precise route they took, they arrived in the Aegean port of
*Troas* (8), close to the Hellespont, which we call the Dardanelles.
They had come a long way, in fact all the way from the south-east to the
north-west extremities of Asia Minor, and by a strangely circuitous
route. They must have been in a state of considerable perplexity,
wondering what God's plan and purpose were, for so far their guidance
had been almost entirely negative. Only now did they receive a positive
lead. One
night in Troas Paul had a dream or vision in which he saw *a man of
Macedonia standing and begging him* in some posture of appeal, perhaps
beckoning, and heard him saying, `*Come over to Macedonia [across the
Aegean Sea} and help us*'(9). William Barclay made the improbable
suggestion that the man in the dream was Alexander the Great, partly
because `the district was permeated with memories of Alexander'
and partly because Alexander's aim had been to `marry the east to
the west' and so make one world, while Paul's vision was to make `one
world for Christ'. Sir William Ramsay argued that Macedonian was Luke,
whom Paul had just met in Troas, possibly consulting him as a doctor. It
is likely that Luke had some personal connection with Philippi, and
certain that he was in Troas at the time, since in the next verse (10)
he begins the first of the `we-sections' by which, quietly but
deliberately, he draws attention to his presence at the time. The
identification of the Macedonian with Luke is entirely conjectural,
however, and Ramsay admitted that some would regard it as `moonstruck
fancy'. What
we do know is that the following morning Paul told his companions the
vision, that together they discussed its meaning and implications, and
that they concluded that God had called them to preach the gospel to the
Macedonians. So they *got ready at once to leave for Macedonia*.(10).
A.T.Pierson in his *The Acts of the Holy Spirit* drew attention to what
he called `the double guidance of the apostle and his companions',
namely, `on the one hand *prohibition and restraint*, on the other
*permission and constraint*. They are forbidden in one direction ,
invited in another; one way the Spirit says "go not"; the
other he calls "come".' Pierson went on to give some later
examples from the history of missions of this same `double guidance': Livingstone
tried to go to China, but God sent him to Africa instead. Before him,
Carey planned to go to Polynesia in the South Seas, but God guided him
to India. Judson went to India first, but was driven on to Burma. We too
in our day, Pierson concludes, `need to trust him for guidance and
rejoice equally in his restraints and constraints'. Some
importance principles of divine guidance are, in fact, exemplified in
the experience of Paul and his companions. God led them by a combination
of factors, over a period of time, ending when they pondered their
meaning together. First came the double prohibition, somehow barring
their way into both Asia and Bithynia, and leading them to Troas, whose
harbour faced west to Macedonia. This was followed by the night vision
calling to Paul for help. These circumstances were the basis for their
discussion, as they asked themselves and each other what these things
indicated. They then put two and two together, the negative (the block
to Asia and Bithynia) and the positive (the appeal to Macedonia), and
concluded that through these various experiences God was calling them to
go over to Macedonia to `help', that is, to preach the gospel there.
From this we may learn that usually God's guidance is not negative only
but also positive (some doors close, others open); not circumstantial
only, but also rational (thinking about our situation); not personal
only, but also corporate (a sharing of the data with others, so that we
can mull over them together and reach a common mind). Indeed the verb *symbibazo*
in verse 10, translated `assuredly gathering' (AV), `concluding' (RSV,
NIV, NEB) and `convinced' (JBP, JB), means literally to `bring
together', to `put together in one's mind' (GT), and so to infer
something from a variety of data. On
another sabbath, when Paul and his friends were going to *the place of
prayer*, they were *met by a slave girl*, who evidently stood in their
way. Luke tells two things about her. First, she *had a spirit by which
she predicted the future*, or, literally she had `a spirit of a python'
or `a python spirit'. The reference is to
the snake of classical mythology which guarded the temple of
Apollo and the Delphic oracle at Mount Parnassus. Apollo was thought to
be embodied in the snake and to inspire `pythonesses', his female
devotees, with clairvoyance, although other people thought of them as
ventriloquists. Luke does not commit himself to these superstitions, but
he does regard the slave girl as possessed by an evil spirit. The second
thing he tells us is that as a slave she was exploited by her owners,
for whom she made a lot of money by *fortune-telling* (16). As Paul and
his friends continued their walk, the girl followed them screaming:
`*There men are servants of the Most High God*' (a term for the Supreme
Being which was applied by Jews to Yahweh and by Greeks to Zeus), `*who
are telling you the way to be saved*' (17). Since salvation was a
popular topic of conversation in those days, even if it meant different
things to different people, it is not in the least strange that the girl
should have hailed the missionaries as teachers of `the way of
salvation'. Nor is it strange that the evil spirit should have cried out
in recognition of God's messengers, for Luke has documented the same
thing during the public ministry of Jesus (Lk.4:33-34, 41; 8:27-28). But
why should a demon engage in evangelism? Perhaps the ulterior motive was
to discredit the gospel by associating it in people's minds with the
occult. The girl's shrieks continued *for many days*
until *finally* Paul was provoked to take action. He was *troubled*,
Luke says, which certainly means that he was deeply `disturbed' (BAGD).
The verb *diaponeomai* could be translated `annoyed'(RSV), but it is
gratuitous to say that Paul had `a burst of irritation' (JBP) or `lost
his temper' (JP). It is better to understand that he was `grieved' (AV),
indeed indignant, because of the poor girl's condition, and also
dismayed by this inappropriate and unwelcome kind of publicity. His
distress led him to turn round and command the evil spirit in the name
of Jesus Christ to come out of her, which it immediately did (18).
Although Luke does not explicitly refer to either her conversion or to
her baptism, the fact that her deliverance took place between the
conversions of Lydia and the gaoler leads readers to infer that she too
became a member of the Philippian church. Acts.
16:19-40 - The Roman
gaoler The
deliverance of the slave girl was too much for her owners, however, who
realized that, if the evil spirit had gone out of her (*exelthen), their
hope of making money was gone*, or had `gone out' too (*exelthen*). The
repetition of the verb is surely deliberate. As F.F. Bruce comments:
`When Paul exorcized the spirit that possessed her, he exorcized their
source of income as well.' Their fury had some very unpleasant
consequences for the missionaries, especially for Paul and Silas
(vv.19-40). Luke's
account of what happened in Philippi accurately reflects the situation
in a Roman colony. The slave owners dragged Paul and Silas into the
*agora*, which was not only *the market place* but the centre of the
city's public life (19). They then brought them before the *strategoi*,
that is, the two *praetors* who acted as magistrates in a Roman colony.
The charge was that *these men are Jews* who `...disturb our city and
introduce...customs which it is not allowed to us Romans to adopt and
practice'. The accusations of causing a riot and introducing an alien
religion were serious. `Officially the Roman citizen may not practice
any alien cult that has not received the public sanction of the state,
but customarily he might do so as long as his cult did not otherwise
offend against the laws and usages of Roman life, i.e. so long as it did
not involve political or social crimes' (20-21). The slave owners were
very clever. They not only concealed the real reason for their anger,
which was economic, but also presented their legal charge against the
missionaries `in terms that appealed to the latent anti-Semitism of the
people ("these men are Jews") and their racial pride ("us
Romans")' and so `ignited the flames of bigotry'. The
crowd then *joined in the attack against Paul and Silas*,
and the praetors ordered their lictors to strip and beat them publicly
(22). It was a severe flogging, perhaps the first of the three Paul
later mentioned (2 Cor.11:23, 25), and it was followed by their being
*thrown into prison*, with an instruction to the gaoler to keep them
under close guard (23). He
therefore confined them *in the inner cell and in the stocks* (24). It
is wonderful that in such pain, with lacerated backs and aching limbs,
Paul and Silas at *about midnight* were *praying and singing hymns to
God*. Not groans but songs came from their mouths. Instead of cursing
men, they blessed God. No wonder *the other prisoners were listening to
them* (25). Thus,
as Chrysostom pointed out, the washing was reciprocal: `he washed them
and was washed; those (sc. the imprisoned missionaries) he washed from
their stripes, himself was washed from his sins.' The baptised family
now welcomed Paul and Silas into their home, just as Lydia had done into
hers, *and set a meal before them*. And the celebratory feast was but an
external expression of the inward joy which *the whole famly*
experienced, *because they had come to believe in God* (34). Early
in the morning, the praetors sent their lictors to the gaoler
with the order to release Paul and Silas (35), and the gaoler
passed the messages to the prisoners. No doubt the authorities thought
that a public flogging and a night in gaol were a sufficient punishment,
and hoped that the prisoners had learned their lesson and would leave
quietly. But Paul reacted differently. He claimed for himself and Silas
their rights as Roman citizens. Perhaps they had done so before the
agora, and had been either not heard or not believed. But now a grave
injustice had been done to them. For `according to the text of the *lex
Julia...,* the Roman citizen might not be beaten or bound by a
magistrate *adversus provocationem* or by any other person in any
circumstances', let alone untried and uncondemned. The citizen had only
to say *civis Romanus sum* and he would be immune to punishment; heavy
penalties were prescribed for those who violated these citizenship
privileges. So Paul replied to the officers: *They
beat us publicly without a trial, even though we are Roman citizens, and
threw us into prison. And now do they want to get rid of us quietly?'*.
`push us out on the quiet' (JP) or `smuggle us out privately' (NEB).
*No! Let them come themselves to us in person and escort us out*' (37).
`Paul seems to have been responsible', writes A.N. Triton, `for the
first recorded "sit-in". He refused to move until the
authorities came and apologized... He wanted to compel the authorities
to recognize and to fulfil their God-appointed task. This may have been
very important for the freedom of the church he left behind.'
It
would be hard to image a more disparate group than the business woman,
the slave girl and the gaoler. Racially, socially and psychologically
they were worlds apart. Yet all three were changed by the same gospel
and were welcomed into the same church. Take
their different *national* origins first. Philippi was a very
cosmopolitan city, having been Greek before it was Roman, and sitting
astride the great east-west *Via Egnatia*. Lydia was an Asiatic, not
perhaps in our sense of the word, but in the sense that she came from
Asia Minor. She was an immigrant in Philippi, not a native. The slave
girl was presumably Greek and a resident. She could have been a
foreigner, since slaves were imported from everywhere, but there is
nothing in the story to indicate this. The gaoler was probably like most
gaolers at that time a retired soldier or army veteran, and, like all
officials in the legal administration of a Roman colony, he was
doubtless a Roman himself. Each of the three had been brought up in a
different national culture. True, they were already united politically
by the Roman Empire, but now in Jesus Christ they found a deeper unity
still. Or
take their different *social* backgrounds. Lydia is likely to have been
a wealthy woman, who had made her money in what we jocularly call `the
rag trade'. She certainly had a large enough house to accommodate the
four missionaries in addition to her own household (15). The slave girl
came from the opposite end of the social spectrum. You could not sink
much lower in public estimation than to be a female slave. She owned
nothing, not even herself. She had no possessions, rights, liberty or
life of her own. Even the money she earned by fortune-telling went
straight into her masters' pockets. Then the gaoler was socially
half-way between the two women. Although he had a responsible post in
the local prison, he was still only a subordinate official in government
service. One might say that he belonged to the respectable middle class.
Yet these three were foundation members of the Philippian church,
admitted into it on the same terms with no distinction. The head of a
Jewish household would use the same prayer every morning, giving thanks
that God had not made him a Gentile, a woman or a slave. But here were
representatives of these three despised categories redeemed and united
in Christ. For truly, as Paul had recently written to the Galatians:
`There is nether Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you
are all one in Christ Jesus.' (Gal. 3:28). It
is wonderful to observe in Philippi both the universal appeal of the
gospel (that it could reach such a wide diversity of people) and its
unifying effect (that it could bind them together in God's family). Of
course the gospel also divides a community, because some reject it, but
it unifies those who accept it. It is touching to see that Luke ends his
Philippian narrative with a reference to `the brothers'( 40). The
wealthy business woman, the exploited slave girl and the rough Roman
gaoler had been brought into a brotherly or sisterly relationship with
each other and with the rest of the church's members. True, they
experienced some tensions, and in his later Letter to the Philippians
Paul had to exhort them to `stand firm in one spirit', and to be
`like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and purpose'
(Phil. 1:27: 2:2). Nevertheless they all belonged to the one fellowship
of Christ. We too, who live in an era of social disintegration, need to
exhibit the unifying power of the gospel.
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