Acts 22:1-21

Chapter 83

Prayer

Almighty God, is there not a rest provided for them that love thee a long Sabbath day without cloud and without night? Hast thou not told us that far beyond there is home-land? By these promises art thou taking us forward day by day, that we may enter into light and enjoy the warmth and the peace of eternal summer. Because of this comfort we are lifted up above all distresses; we speak of them as for the time only; we say, they come and go, and there is no stay in them; we fear them not; they are dying shadows, flying clouds, specks that vanish whilst we look upon them. We could not say this but for the promise of eternal life and endless joy service without weariness, attention unbroken to things Divine, amounting to rapture and all heavenliness of joy. This is thy gift in Christ Jesus. We are not walking from the light into darkness, but from darkness into light; wherefore we comfort one another with these words of thine: we say, "the road will not be long; another mile or two at the most, and the journey will be done; a few more years, and earth will be behind us a spot undiscernible in space." So are we taken forward, step by step, a day at a time; feeling warmer today than yesterday, because the Sabbath life is nearer. Surely this is thy voice; surely this is the light above the brightness of the sun that makes men blind at noonday, that afterward they may receive their inner and spiritual sight. This is thy gift, O Christ! meeting every man on the road, and smiting him to the ground that there he may leave his pride and rise up a humble child led by the hand. We bless thee for all these views of things unseen. We thank thee with swelling hearts of thankfulness because of these touches of a hand that may be felt but never seen. We bless thee with hymn upon hymn yea, in multiplied psalm for this religious light that looks with holy contempt upon all the charms and vexations of time, and draws itself forward by the mighty welcomes and gospels of heaven. Help us to know what we are, what we can do, what is thy purpose concerning us; and may we with all diligence and burning love gird ourselves to our work, and be found at the last willing, obedient, active servants, waiting for one advent the Lord; and the solution of all things, the coming of the Lord. Meanwhile, we have thy Book, but how seldom have we eyes to see it. We have thy written Word, but how rarely do we pass through the iron gate into the inner spirit and the sacred liberty. This is our blame; we have not because we ask not, or because we ask amiss. O that we had hearkened unto thy statutes and walked in the way of thy commandments, and held our ex" pectant life steadily towards the rising of the sun. Then had our peace flowed like a river, and our righteousness had been as the waves of the sea, and all the hurried week of the world's tumult would have been calmed by the peace of thine own Son. Meanwhile, we see thy providence passing before us day by day. We see that the axe is laid unto the root of the tree. Again and again we are startled by visions of righteousness and of sure and holy judgment amongst the lives of men. If we are perplexed by mystery, we are comforted by many a revelation. We see that thou art at war with the wicked man. If thou dost lift him up a little, it is to throw him down more heavily; if thou dost apparently show him favour, it is that he may the more surely know and feel the judgment of thy righteousness. We see that the righteous man is still loved of God and held fast in his right hand, educated by manifold discipline and instruction, but always being prepared for the high estate reserved in Christ Jesus for all whose hearts have lost their self-will in simple faith. We pray for one another, again and again, for our life is one daily need; our course is full of pain; we cannot do without thee one little day. Keep us, and we shall be kept; let thine hand be upon us, and we shall be as crowned kings. Regard the old and the young alike; thou canst make the old young; thou canst make the young maturer. Thou canst find for us water in the wilderness; show us the dripping of honey amongst hard rocks. The Red Sea is nothing before the rod of the Lord, and the wilderness is but the beginning of a garden when the Lord's love and light are in our hearts. So take us every one spotted, crooked, self-spoiled only now: broken-hearted, joyous, penitent whatever our condition be lay open wide the door wider still set it open thyself, thou Loving One; and all shall enter in, and falling down at thy feet, low before the Saviour's Cross, shall cry bitterly that they ever grieved thine heart. Amen.

Act 22:1-21

1. Brethren [Paul's address to his kinsmen in the mother tongue] and fathers [Sanhedrists], hear ye the defence which I now make unto you [lit. "hear of me my present defence to you"].

2. And when they heard that he spake unto them in the Hebrew language they were the [still ( Act 21:40 )] more quiet: and he saith,

3. I am a Jew, born in Tarsus of Cilicia, but brought up in this city, at the feet of [the Jewish teachers sat upon an elevated chair, Vit. Svn., p. 165 f.] Gamaliel, instructed according to the strict manner of the law of our fathers [ i.e., Mosaically orthodox. Paul's defence is not based upon traditions, Galatians 1:14 , or Pharisaism, Php 3:5 ], being zealous [G., "a zealot"] for God, even as ye all are this day.

4. And I persecuted this way [ Act 9:2 al.] unto the death [the persecutor's intent], binding and delivering into prisons both men and women.

5. As also the high-priest [of that time: still living] doth bear me witness, and all the estate of [G. "Eldership:" probably syn. with Sanhedrim] the elders: from whom also I received letters unto the brethren, and journeyed to Damascus, to bring them also which were there unto Jerusalem in bonds, for to be punished.

6. And it came to pass that [Acts 9:3-8 ; Acts 26:13 ff.] as I made my journey, and drew nigh unto Damascus, about noon, suddenly there shone from heaven a great light [seen on the background of noon] round about me.

7. And I fell unto the ground, and heard a voice saying unto me, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?

8. And I answered, Who art thou, Lord? And he said unto me, I am Jesus of Nazareth, whom thou persecutest.

9. And they that were with me beheld indeed the light, but they heard not the voice of him that spake to me.

10. And I said, What shall I do, Lord? And the Lord said unto me, Arise, and go unto Damascus; and there it shall be told thee of all things which are appointed for thee to do.

11. And when I could not see for the glory of that light [In. Acts 1:18 ; Psalms 104:2 ; 1Ti 6:16 ], being led by the hand of them that were with me, I came into Damascus.

12. And one Ananias, a devout man according to the law, well reported of by all the Jews that dwelt there,

13. Came unto me, and standing by me [sitting blind, unable to open eyelids] said unto me, Brother Saul, receive thy sight. And in that very hour I looked up on [G. "unto"] him.

14. And he said, The God of our fathers hath appointed [ Act 3:20 ] thee to know his will and to see the Righteous One [ Jesus, on whom God's righteous volition to save bases itself, Romans 3:21 , ff.; 2Co 5:21 ], and to hear a voice from his mouth.

15. For thou shalt be a witness for him unto all men of what thou hast seen and heard.

16. And now why tarriest thou? Arise and be baptized, and [symbolically] wash away thy sins, calling on His name [ 1Co 6:11 ].

17. And it came to pass that when I had returned to Jerusalem [sequel, not related at 9:26], and while I prayed in the temple, I fell into a trance,

18. And saw him saying unto me, Make haste, and get thee quickly out of Jerusalem: because they will not receive of thee testimony concerning me.

19. And I said [Paul would have made his début as the "Converted Persecutor." But Christ forbade], Lord, they themselves know that I imprisoned and beat in every synagogue them that believed on thee.

20. And when the blood of Stephen, thy witness, was shed, I also was standing by, and consenting, and keeping the garments of them that slew him.

21. And he said to me, Depart: for I ["I," emphatic] will send thee forth far hence unto the Gentiles [among Gentiles].

Personal Experience

We wonder what speech Paul will now make. Will he enter into some learned theological argument and confound his hearers by his heavenly eloquence? What will he say under circumstances partly novel, severely critical? He will surely bring to bear the pressure of his whole intellectual force; he will make this the supreme occasion of a lifetime, and will contribute to it all that he has ever learned of earthly wisdom, and all that he has ever known of heavenly or spiritual experience. We await the opening of those eloquent lips with feverish expectancy, for this is a critical hour. The audience is, in many respects, unlike any other audience the Apostle has ever addressed, and he is now in the metropolis of the land. What is his defence? He tells over again the story of his conversion, and tells nothing more. The sublimity of that act is without parallel in the Christian ministry. Here is no elaborate argument, no penetrating criticism, no show of erudition, but a simple, child-like statement of facts; the application being to this effect: "Men, brethren, and fathers, after this, what could I do?" This is the key that opens the lock; that is the answer to the problem. "I myself actually passed through these experiences, and having passed through them, what other could I do than I have done? Have I not acted under the pressure of a Divine predestination?" We wondered how the old story of the conversion was bearing the wear and tear of Apostolic life; the answer is before us. Having gone down into the city and into the wilderness, and over the sea; having been beaten and stoned and imprisoned, and having had heaped upon him all obloquy, the Apostle ends just where he began: by telling, not the story of another man, but the simple experience of his own soul. The story is just the same. Sometimes imagination plays havoc with memory; sometimes we begin to wonder if our own life is true; there comes a time when we say, "Surely we were in a trance then; that cannot be just as we once thought it was." Imagination throws its own colours upon the simplest facts of early life, and we begin to regard those facts as part of an impalpable and mocking dream. This is particularly the case with the religious imagination; it leads us to disown our early selves; it teaches us to regard our first prayers as passionate and sentimental rather than as sober and vital. The religious imagination, when not kept under severe control, trifles with facts and makes us think that even history itself is only a coloured cloud. It is interesting, therefore, to find that Paul, after all the manifold and peculiar experience of a missionary's life, turns up at this moment and repeats the old story exactly as it occurred in the earlier part of his life. Paul lived in his own experience; Paul placed both his feet on the rock of facts which had occurred in his own knowledge. He was not without poetic fire; he was not destitute of religious imagination; but to what height soever his head soared, he always kept his feet firmly upon the rock of things which had happened to himself. That is the perpetual vindication of Christianity. Christianity is not to be defended by mere argument, by the able use of elegant terms and subtle phrases; Christianity does not challenge the world to a battle of opinions. Christianity is an incarnation; it stands up in its own living men, and says, "This is my work. If you want me to talk with you mere opinions and views and theories, you can answer me back wisely or unwisely as you may suppose; but the controversy which I have with the world is this: produce your men and I will produce mine." The tree is known by its fruit.

So the Apostle Paul continually told what Jesus Christ had done for him. If the Church would stand firmly to this one point, there need be no controversy. This speech of the great Apostle does not refer to something that happened once for all in one man's life alone; this is but the specimen speech; every Christian man can make a similar speech for himself, sealed with the authority of his own consciousness and experience. That is the only sermon the world wants from any of us. Stand up and say where you were going, what you were, and what you are now. If in an unfortunate mood you refer to some other man's case, you may be perplexed by some cross inquiry as to the order of the facts; but if you keep to your own self your own very self there is no answer, unless the world should add to the vulgarity of its rudeness this additional aggravation: that it calls you a speaker of falsehoods. It never occurred to the Apostle that he was relating anything that ought to tax the imagination of his hearers; about the whole recital there is the tone of a sober annalist, the tone of a man who is simply telling what he saw, heard, felt, and enjoyed. The recital of those occurrences he called his "defence." The defence of Christianity is not a book but a man not an argument but a life. Christians are the defence of Christianity. Of course we shall be told about the shortcomings of Christians, their defects, their eccentricities, their sins. So be it. We may admit the impeachment in every item, and still the solid truth remains that Christians are the defence of Christianity. The taunt admits of easy and destructive retort. You tell me that London is a healthy city! Come with me to the hospitals today and let us walk upstairs, and downstairs, and along the corridors, and call in at every room in every ward, and I will show you every disease known amongst men in this climate. And yet we are told that London is a healthy city! Come with me from house to house throughout the metropolis, and in nearly every house I will find you a complaining voice someone is sick, someone feels pain. And yet they tell us that London is a healthy city! Let their hospitals confound them; and let all the invalids at home combine in one well-attested refutation of this optimistic view of London as the healthiest great city in the world. That kind of argument would not be admitted on sanitary questions; yet the very men, who would probably reject it upon the ground of a physical kind, might be tempted to use it in relation to Christians. There are sick Christians, Christian cripples, bad men in many respects, weak men in all respects, faulty men; and yet it remains true that Christians are the defence of Christianity; and even the weakest Christian may have about him that peculiar sign manual of heaven, which makes him greater than the greatest born of women outside the circle described with blood.

Here, then, is the plain line along which we must move when called upon for our defence. We must not ask our friends to contribute a library out of which we may cull the many evidences which establish the Christian argument; but, standing forward on stair-top, or in the marketplace, or in the Church, let us say, "Men, brethren, and fathers, hear ye my defence" then will come your own life-story. We do not need much poetic genius to dictate on the spot a hundred varying tales, each of which would be an invincible argument on the side of Christianity. "Men, brethren, and fathers," says some poor old mother in the Church, "hear ye my defence. I was left in difficulty and trouble and sorrow: I knew not where to turn: all heaven was a cloud, all the earth was a swamp; I sat down and felt the pain of utter helplessness, when suddenly I heard a voice saying unto me, 'Pray to thy Father in heaven.' I looked and saw no man; and whilst I was looking the voice said again, 'Pray to thy Father in heaven.' I never had prayed just in the right way; but, at that moment, my heart dissolved in softness, and my eye brightened with hope, and I fell down, and, crying unto heaven, asked the Lord to show me what he would have me to do. Suddenly there was a great light around me, and a hand took hold of mine, and ever since that day I have felt that I am not an orphan, or a lost thing, or a forsaken life, but under shepherdly and fatherly superintendence; I feel that the very hairs of my head are all numbered." Sweet old mother! sit down; the philosophers can never answer that; bless thee! that is a speech to which there is no reply. Have you no tale to tell about the dark days, the friendless days; the sudden suggestion that stirred the mind; the inspiration like a flash of light at midnight; the key you found in the darkness when you put your hand out which has unlocked every gate and every door ever since? Stand up and tell your tale. Let me not hear your opinions and your views and conjectures and speculations keep them to yourself; but when we call for your defence read out of the pages of your heart. Every man has his own defence, his own particular vision or view of -God. What we want to hear from each man is what he himself knows. Keep to facts they are the noblest poetry; keep to facts they are the blossoms that no cold wind can blow down, but must mature into luscious and nutritious fruit. Herein is the strength of some of us; herein is the secret of our ardent preaching. Were we to preach what we have read, were we to preach from the purely intellectual and argumentative point, we are keen enough in spiritual hearing to detect noises in the air, challenging us at a thousand points; but standing back in our own selfhood, we see it all, and so complete is our consciousness and experience that it never occurs to us any man can doubt our word. This will be the case with Paul. When he argued about the resurrection, he said with infinite simplicity, "If it were not so, we ourselves would be found liars before God, and that is impossible." The sweet truthfulness, the simple, beautiful self conviction of soul in that testimony! We need no certificate after that; it comes so freshly, in a certain sense so naively, and with such a heavenliness of simplicity as to be in itself a very powerful argument. It is possible to account for the greatest changes in life; it is not always possible to complete an argument; it is not always possible to put into words the feelings which have made us what we are. There are silent defences; there are defences which only speak as the light speaks, and that is by wordless shining; nevertheless, the man himself knows in his own heart the truth of what he would say if words were equal to the occasion. If you have any doubt in your own heart, it must be about yourself and not about the truth. Why do men fly upon the truth, as if that were to blame, instead of flying upon their own incomplete experience, and saying, "The fault is in me"? If you are not a converted man a man whose soul has been turned right round then blame your own want of conversion, and not the truth which you nominally profess. A converted man is one who is completely turned right round in every act, motive, impulse, and purpose; a converted man is as one who was travelling east, but is now marching straight towards the west. You could tell what turned you round it was a death, a grief, a reading of the Book, a sermon, a singular providence, the hearing of a hymn, the touch of a child, the feeling of an inward agony. That is your defence; it is not mine; it is not another man's, probably, but it is yours, just as your heart is yours, and your hand. Your heart and hand have something in common with every other human heart and hand, yet there is a specialty that makes each yours and no other man's. It is so in Christian experience. Every man has his own view of God, his own conception of the Cross, his own speechless explanation of the inexplicable mystery of the Atonement of Christ. We want more personal experience in the Church. Herein the idea of some Christian communions is a sound conception of Christian fellowship and communion, namely: that we should meet one another periodically, and audibly say what God has done for the soul. The practice may easily be abused; it is not our business to show how Christian privileges may be degraded, but how they may be turned to the highest advantage; and, judging by apostolic history and precedent, nothing is so convincing, so satisfactory, as for the soul to tell its own story, in its own words, and when the soul does that, the best of all sermons will be preached. We can say, "We were as sheep going astray, but now we are returned to the Shepherd and Bishop of our souls." Each can say, who has known Christ's ministry in the soul, "Once I was blind; now I see." Each can say, "I have altered my standard of judgment, my whole estimate of things; the world used to be a great place to me, now I can hardly see it: my eyes are filled with another glory a glory that excelleth; and now when I look down upon the earth, I see in it nothing but types, shadows, symbols of better things; once I thought time long, now it is only a short hot breath; once I thought life a daily pain, now it is a daily expectation. Death is abolished. O death! O death! grim death where is thy sting, thou defeated foe, thou overthrown one?" What wrought this? "It was wrought thus: I was going from Jerusalem to Damascus, and at noonday, in a light which put out the sun, Jesus of Nazareth met me, talked to me, spoke to my very soul; and if any man were to deny that, he would be a liar, not I. I know it; it is my life's life; it is the fact which is the keystone of my life's bridge; it is the stone that gives unity to the present and hope for the future. Men, brethren, and fathers, hear ye my defence! My defence is not an argument which you can answer, but a fact to which I can swear."