Acts 19:21-41

Chapter 73

Prayer

Almighty God, we have heard of thy mercy, and therefore our hope is yet alive. We dare not look at thy law; we have broken its letter, we have grieved its spirit, we have trampled upon its purpose. We are not here to turn the altar into a place of self-defence, but to say with our inmost heart, "We have all sinned and come short of thy glory." We know what sin is, though we cannot tell. We have felt the darkness of that night-shadow, and it is deep and cold and full of fear. We have felt the warm shining of thy grace upon our souls, and in it there has been morning brightness, vernal promise, summer glory, and an abundance of pardon. Thou dost not pardon grudgingly; there is no upbraiding to follow the gifts of thy heart. We live in thine answer to our prayer, and thou art pleased to live in our love, thou art grieved by rebellion; we pain thee by our wandering; the heavens are black with astonishment, and the earth trembles, because of amazement, when thou dost upbraid us for oft-repeated ingratitude and sin. We stand at the sacred Cross as thirsty men stand before springing waters. There is no other hope. It is not a Cross of letters and words with meanings we can fully tell, but a great love-Cross, a great altar whereon is seen the very heart of the heart of God. We may not speak about it without humbling our own power of speech and mocking ourselves, because of the emptiness of our noblest terms. There is no speech for the love of the Cross; we must be dumb with gratitude, silent because of adoration, filled with joy that trembles because of its infinite fulness. Give us the heart purity that sees God. Thou wilt not give us the tongue that can tell about thee, but we do ask for, the heart that sees thee, looks right into thy beaming face, and reads with holy insight the innermost thought of the Cross of Christ. We bless thee that no man can take the Cross of Christ from us. The blood is always there; it cannot be sponged out, nor hidden, nor covered up with all the nights that ever darkened upon the earth. It is thy testimony, it is the tragedy of heaven, it is the answer that we can only need now and then the great, secret, deep, marvellous answer that men may not trifle with in many words or thoughtless speech. We have seen the Cross, and we must now see it evermore. The sight is graven upon our heart; the Lamb of God in his great agony must forever be before the eyes that have once beheld him. We think of thy love in the house and on the roadside, and in the market-place; in the chamber of affliction, up the hill of difficulty, and down in the valley, sultry and imprisoning. Thy love is an angel that never sleeps. Thy gifts are flowers that know no winter blight. Thou dost evermore beset us behind and before, and lay thine hand upon us and hold us up by thy mighty grace. We are the living to praise thee. We have seen the grave and demanded its victory; we have looked upon death and mocked him to the face ghastly indeed, but overthrown. Death is swallowed up in victory. This is the triumph of the Cross. May we abide in Christ, live in Christ; may our life's music be taken from Christ, and may we find that the surest places in all the wide universe are the places where he sets his feet. The Lord gather from this assembly today all special praises, all particular songs, all individual utterances, for every heart has its own hymn within the public hymn, deeper and higher than the public psalm. Send blessings upon the old, that they may forget the winter of age and feel the breeze of the coming heaven-spring. Send messages to little children, that they may think life is all sunshine, and keep back the care, the anxiety, as long as thou canst. The Lord hear us, poor weary pilgrims, grouped around the Cross; pity us, lift us up; give us to know that we live in the love of God, and not in the caprice of men; and, abiding under the roof of that sanctuary, give us to know that the storm can never put out our fires, and that in the darkest night there is a brightness which the pure heart can see. Amen.

Act 19:21-41

21. Now after these things were ended, Paul purposed in the spirit, when he had passed through Macedonia and Achaia, to go to Jerusalem, saying, After I have been there, I must also see Rome.

22. And having sent into Macedonia two of them that ministered unto him, Timothy and Erastus, he himself stayed in Asia for a while.

23. And about that time there arose no small stir concerning the Way.

24. For a certain man named Demetrius, a silversmith, which made silver shrines of Diana, brought no little business unto the craftsmen;

25. whom he gathered together, with the workmen of like occupation, and said, Sirs, ye know that by this business we have our wealth.

26.. And ye see and hear, that not alone at Ephesus, but almost throughout all Asia, this Paul hath persuaded and turned away much people, saying that they be no gods, which are made with hands:

27. and not only is there danger that this our trade come into disrepute; but also that the temple of the great goddess Diana be made of no account, and that she should even be deposed from her magnificence [better, "that the temple be disesteemed and the splendour of the goddess impaired." Demetrius forsees the injury, but not the destruction of Diana's worship], whom all Asia and the world worshippeth.

28. And when they heard this they were filled with wrath, and cried out, saying, Great is Diana of the Ephesians.

29. And the city was filled with the confusion; and they rushed with one accord into the theatre [ruins of which building, constructed to hold over 25,000 spectators, still remain], having seized Gaius and Aristarchus [Acts 20:4 ; Acts 27:2 ; Colossians 4:10 ; Philemon 1:24 ; Caius of Macedonia is not elsewhere mentioned], men of Macedonia, Paul's companions in travel.

30. And when Paul was minded to enter in unto the people, the disciples suffered him not.

31. And certain also of the [G. " Asiarchs": the ten annually elected presidents of the provincial games and sacrificial rites were thus named. They defrayed the enormous expenses of the games which were held during the whole of May (hence called Artemision), and they retained the honourable title when past the presidency] chief officers of Asia, being his friends, sent unto him, and besought him not to adventure himself into the theatre.

32. Some therefore cried one thing, and some another; for the assembly was in confusion; and the more part knew not wherefore they were come together. [Yet they were unanimous for assembling, Acts 19:29 .]

33. And they brought Alexander [ 1Ti 1:20 and 2Ti 4:14 ] out of the multitude [or better, some of the multitude instructed Alexander], the Jews putting him forward [compare Act 19:9 ]. And Alexander beckoned with the hand [moved his hand up and down], and would have made a defence [G. "apology"] unto the people.

34. But when they perceived that he was a Jew, all with one voice, about the space of two hours, cried out, Great is Diana of the Ephesians.

35. And when the town clerk [an official who wrote, kept, and read publicly, when required, the statutes and judgments of a Greek democracy] had quieted the multitude, he saith, Ye men of Ephesus, what man is there who knoweth not how that the city of the Ephesians is temple-keeper [G. "temple-sweeper." Cf. Psa 84:10 ] of the great Diana, and of the image which fell down from Jupiter [must therefore be supposed to have been saved when Herostratus burnt down the old temple on the night when Alexander the Great was born. This image had many breasts, and tapered to its base].

36. Seeing then that these things cannot be gainsaid, ye ought to be quiet, and to do nothing rash.

37. For ye have brought hither these men, which are neither robbers of temples nor blasphemers of our goddess.

38. If therefore Demetrius and the craftsmen that are with him have a matter [a charge] against any man, the courts are open, and there are proconsuls [there would be only one in each province. The meaning is, proconsuls (judges) as well as courts, are provided by the state]; let them accuse one another.

39. But if ye seek anything about other matters [not yet defined by statute], it shall be settled in the regular [legislative] assembly.

40. For indeed we are in danger to be ["run the risk of being"] accused concerning this day's riot, there being no cause for it; and as touching it we shall not be able to give account of this concourse. [The reviser's Greek text is here corrupt. The "not" is obviously a copyist's repetition, and "this day's riot," involves an ungrammatical transposition of the Greek order of words, quite without N. T. precedent. Translate: "For we run the risk of being accused of riot concerning this day, there being no cause whereby we may give an account of this concourse."]

41. And when he had thus spoken, he dismissed the assembly. [" So, " says Chrysostom, "he quenched their rage, for what kindles easily is easily put out."]

Old Complaints and New Reproaches

THE application of these words to present-day life is a task that might be assigned to a child. The speech of Demetrius is a speech that was made yesterday in every centre of civilization affected by Christian ideas and demands. Demetrius never dies; his word is to be heard in every tongue; he is present in great force in every Church, and present as representing two very special and remarkable phases of life. In the twenty-seventh verse he puts these two phases before us in the most vivid colouring. With the subtlety of selfishness he puts the case with comical adroitness. He knows the value of a little piety. How it flavours the appeals that are made to man's fears and to man's commercial fortunes! See how religious he becomes quite suddenly! If it were a mere matter of trade he would not have troubled himself about it. He could have lifted his noble self above all market-place considerations and reflections, but "not only this our craft is in danger to be set at nought; but also that the temple of the great goddess Diana should be despised." The second was the thought that afflicted his pious heart! The mere matter of losing a few silverlings in shrines would never have excited him beyond a momentary flutter, but to see the great temple of the great Artemis despised was more than that godly soul could bear. Said I not truly that Demetrius never dies? Was it not a wise word wise because consistent with facts that Demetrius is present in great force in every centre of civilization affected by Christian ideas and claims? What was the reality of the case from the first point of view? "A certain man named Demetrius, a silversmith, which made silver shrines for Diana, brought no small gain unto the craftsmen." Trade was injured; "no small gain" was destroyed; the weekly takings had gone down to nothing. If Paul had preached abstract ideas and lived in a painted theology, and clothed himself in clouds "rolled" a thousand miles above the air, Demetrius would have made shrines for him if he had ordered them, but a preacher that comes down upon the earth, walks in the common dust, thunders upon immediate iniquity and visible falsehood, may get himself into trouble. We have escaped all this. Modern preachers are never in trouble; they tell the false dealer that after all if he did not deal in that he would deal in something else. The preachers might preach a whole year upon the evils of intemperance, but if those who deal in strong drink were to find their takings going down very considerably, the preacher would soon hear of the circumstance and find himself involved in no small trouble. That is one reason why a modern institution, known to us all, is often persecuted, opposed, denounced, and vilified. It is not an institution of ideas and propositions, and theological placards, propounding curious problems for curious minds, but an institution that stops people from going in to spend money on bad counters; and Demetrius comes out and shakes his indignant fist in its face. He is quite right. I thank God for it, personally. You may circulate what books you please if you do not interfere with the profitable circulation of corrupt literature you are quite at liberty to walk upon both sides of the street; but if the literature that is eating out the morality of our young people is interfered with, is arrested in its baleful progress, then you will be caricatured, travestied, spat upon, contemned, laughed at. My brethren, rejoice when such persecution befalls you. It is a sign of true success; your blows are taking effect. Demetrius will not fail to let you know how your work is going on. Do not believe yourselves about it; you see things through painted glass, and report that the orient is white and the day is coming when there is nothing of the kind on the road. Do not take the Christian's word for progress; he means to speak truth; from his own point of view he speaks nothing but truth, he is honest and upright, but he does not know the reality of the case. Demetrius knows it. I want to hear Demetrius when he calls the men of the same craft together and says, "Sirs, ye know that by this craft we have our wealth," and "this our craft is in danger to be set at nought what shall be done?" Then the war is going well; the fight is at its highest point of agony; press on another stroke, another rush, and down goes Demetrius, and all his progeny fall into the pit to keep him profitless company. What bad journal have you, as a Christian Church, ever shut up? What place of iniquitous business have you ever bought and washed with disinfecting lime, and within its unholy walls set up the altar of Christ? What property do you buy? Where do you follow and out-bid Demetrius, driving him back, and back, and back? Is he in the thoroughfares of the capital cities of the world, or is he not? We are afraid to build churches too near one another; we study one another's feelings about that. I would God the thoroughfare five miles long had churches on both sides of the street, one after another in great godly rows, phalanxes of moral strength, sanctuaries into which the poor and the weak and the weary might run, with great hospitable doors standing open night and day. Show me the thoroughfare in any great city in the world in which Christian churches have pushed back evil institutions and made them take up their quarters in narrow streets back, back to the river's edge and into the river, if possible. To see such a city would be to see the beginning of heaven. Christ would almost have to inquire lor his own address if he came back to earth; he would need some one to point out his dwelling-places; they are quite back; they are put up on sufferance; they are watched with suspicion; they are left to decay; and if any adventurous spirit should propose to paint them, clean and repair them, such proposition would be received as a new assault upon the purses of the people. Demetrius will let you know how the work is going on. Do not let us deceive ourselves and trifle with facts. Who dares assail an evil institution, an effete society, and obsolete secretariat and pension? Preach abstract ideas, rewrite "Paradise Lost," add to it "Paradise Regained," publish them both in sumptuous editions, and Demetrius is well content. He never suffered much through blank verse, he rather likes it; it sounds as if there might be something in it, but that something is not a thunderbolt.

The next phase of the case as put by Demetrius is infinitely more humiliating. The temple of the great goddess Diana is in danger of being despised. How shall we name that particular phase of the situation? It is best represented by the words a religious panic. The temple was in danger. That is the language of today. We have set up societies for the purpose of defending Christianity. All those societies represent, with few exceptions, some degree of religious panic. The temple is never in danger that must be our faith. If it is a temple that can be put in danger, it is a temple made with hands and must go down. Hear the great challenge of the Master: "Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up." What panics we have seen! What godly godless excitement, as if truth could ever be in danger; as if some blind Samson could catch hold of the pillars of heaven and shake down upon us the contents of the sky. What a sky we live under if you think it can be shaken down! Some time ago a number of highly learned and morally and spiritually distinguished men issued a volume entitled, "Essays and Reviews." It was the doom of Christianity! It was the end of the world! Edition after edition was published for sceptical books enjoy a circulation whilst orthodox books enjoy a slumber. The Church likes to buy heterodox literature; it looks like being "in advance of the times." From what I can understand of the case Christianity has come forward since the day of the publication of "Essays and Reviews," and the smell of fire has not passed upon it. What excitement there was! What panic in religious halls and on religious platforms! and yet Christianity, quiet as light, pure as the living breeze that blows among the snowy tops of the hills, has gone forward on her beneficent career without ever having bought a copy of the volume that some people earnestly thought was to have taken her life. There was no need for panic. Some time ago a bishop, who was born to take an inventory of things, and to reckon them up within the four corners of the multiplication table a small universe and hard to lie down upon began to suggest that it was impossible for seven-and-twenty thousand men to stand upon six square inches! What a panic there was! It was the end of the world, this time! "A man," as Mrs. Carlyle well said, "with a little silk apron on had undertaken to find fault with the Pentateuch." She took it wisely; she was in no panic. She looked at the "apron" and despised the arithmetic. So far as I can understand, the Pentateuch seems to be very much where it was. Why these panics? Why these causeless distresses? We want to get at truth and fact and right, and if any man can help us in that direction he is not an enemy but a friend. I would rather teach that the men of true science are all men of a Christian spirit. They may not be so advanced as others; they may be sadly wanting in this or that department of theological culture and knowledge, but wherever I find a man whose supreme purpose is truth and reality, I find, not an enemy, but a fellow-worker. We ought to have a religion that cannot be put in danger. No man can touch my religion. If our religion is an affair of letters, forms, dates, autographs, and incidents of that kind, then I do not wonder that our cabinet is sometimes burglariously entered and certain things filched from it. I do not keep my religion in a museum; my Christianity is not locked up even in an iron safe; my conception of GOD no man can break through, nor steal. You cannot take my Bible from me; if you could prove that the Apostle John wrote the Pentateuch, and that Moses wrote the Apocalypse, and that the Apocalypse should come in the middle of the Bible and not at the end, you have not touched what I hold to be the revelation of God to the human mind and the human heart. Let us leave all such questions to be decided by the very few who are capable of gathering together the evidence, adjusting and distributing it, and founding upon it wise critical conclusions. What we, as the common people, have to be sure about is, that God has not left himself without witness amongst us; that God has sent great messages of law and love and light and life to every one of us; that God's revelations do not depend upon changing grammars, but upon an inward, spiritual consciousness and holy sympathy, whose insight is not intellectual but moral the purity of heart which sees God. When all the assaults have been concluded there remains the tragedy of human life; when all other books have been published, there remains another publication to come forth the Book that can speak to conscious sin, to blinded penitence, to broken-hearted, sobbing, supplicating contrition. The Bible speaks to my own heart as no other book speaks; it knows me altogether; it is a mirror which reveals me to myself; it is a voice which calls me out of myself; it is a friend that will quietly sit down beside me seven days, because my grief is very great, will wait until its turn comes, and then will speak in silvery tone, in tender accent, so winningly, so graciously, so lovingly. It hath a history, it hath a psalm, it hath a song, it hath a tongue, it hath a fire. It proves its own inspiration by its grasp of human life, by its answers to human need.

The town-clerk laid down the principle that ought to guide us. He did not know probably how good a philosophy he was propounding. The town-clerk said, "Seeing then that these things cannot be spoken against, ye ought to be quiet." That is what we say about our Christian teaching. There are some things which cannot be "spoken against" so far as my own experience is concerned. The brevity of life, the certainty of death, the reality of sin, the present hell that burns me, the need of a Saviour who needs no saviour himself these things cannot be "spoken against"; therefore, those of us who feel them to be true "ought to be quiet."