Acts 28:11-15 - Homiletics

Refreshment.

What a weary time had Paul's three last years of life been! Incessant fightings with his hard-hearted, virulent countrymen; a pitiless storm of hatred and persecution and false accusation raging incessantly against him; trial succeeding trial, yet bringing no respite from injustice; weary prison hours, while the active spirit was bound by the chain which kept him prisoner at Caesarea; and then the furious tempest, and the labors and anxieties of that terrific voyage, and the threats of the savage soldiery, and the loss of all he had in the shipwreck, and the hardships to be endured by his frail body in the cold wintry season. Save the kindness of the barbarians, there had been no rest to mind or body since he arrived at Jerusalem. And now his face was set towards Rome. But who could tell what awaited him there? He was going there as a prisoner. He was going to another trial. He was going to stand before Nero, with no protection but his innocence. He had countrymen at Rome. Would they behave towards him as his countrymen in Judaea had done? And what had he to expect from the populace at Rome? He had never seen Rome. But for a poor lone prisoner there was plenty in that city of blood and lust and unbounded power to awaken vague fears and undefined anxieties, and to trouble the firmest spirit. And so he walked on toward the goal, hopes and fears perhaps struggling within him for the mastery. And now they were just arriving at Appii Forum, when, lo! a considerable crowd advanced to meet him. Who could they be? and what was their errand? A moment or two soon explained it. They were brethren, Christian brethren, issuing from the foulness of the great heathen city in all the purity of faith and love, to come and greet and welcome the apostle. There, at a thousand miles from his native land, he was not among strangers; he was surrounded by those who had never indeed seen his face, but who loved him fervently in Christ Jesus. There, in the land of idolatry, amidst heathen temples and every form of wickedness flourishing in that hot-bed of corruption, he was in the midst of saints, by whom the Name of Jesus was loved and adored. In that stronghold of Satan there was a chosen band not ashamed to confess the faith of Christ crucified, not ashamed of Paul his prisoner—a band of men to whom Paul's arrival was a joy and a glory, and who were come upwards of forty miles, in all the warmth of love and admiration, to honor him and welcome him, and to give him proof of their obedience and devotion to him. Their presence was like a bright gleam of sunshine upon the apostle's way. His heart leaped up in response to that welcome greeting. His bruised and wearied spirit revived. Love and joy and hope made music in his soul, and his first thought was to give God thanks for this refreshment. Then with fresh courage he went on his way like a giant refreshed with wine, ready to work or to suffer, to contend, to bear witness, to preach, to travel, to write, to spend and be spent, to live or to die for Christ, as his heavenly Father should appoint, till the set time should come when all his toil would be over, and the cress would be exchanged for the glorious crown of righteousness and of life.