The Spirit is an important figure in Christian experience and in Christian theology. The festival of Pentecost, which is celebrated this coming Sunday, is an opportunity to focus on the Spirit in the worship life of the Church. Every year, at Pentecost, the story of “the first Pentecost” is proceed by the lectionary as the reading: an account of how the Spirit was experienced by believers gathered in Jerusalem, 50 days after the death and resurrection of Jesus.
Acts 2 forms a pivotal turning point in the story that Luke tells throughout his two-volume work, which we know as two separate books, The Gospel according to Luke, and the Acts of the Apostles. The Spirit plays a crucial role in both volumes, beginning before Jesus and his cousin John are born, and continuing right through until the final thing that Paul says, when he meets with the Jewish leadership in Rome while under house arrest.
Over the last few years, I have written quite a number of posts for this week, as we approach Pentecost. I’ve listed them below, as you may wish to dip into some of them in the lead up to Pentecost.
During the season of Easter, we have been hearing stories from the book of Acts, with highlights this year with Peter in Jerusalem (Acts 2), Stephen in Jerusalem (Acts 7), and then Paul in Athens (Acts 17). This coming Sunday, the lectionary takes us back to the opening chapter of Acts (1:6-14), most likely in order to prepare for the reading that we will have the following week, on Pentecost Sunday (2:1-21). Here we encounter a community that was, as the NRSV translates, “constantly devoting themselves to prayer”.
This Sunday, the Seventh Sunday in Easter, for the First Reading the lectionary offers us a passage from Acts (1:6–14) which includes the story of the ascension of Jesus (1:6–11) and an insight into that early community, gathered in Jerusalem (1:12–14). This sets the scene for recounting various scenes from the life of the community in Jerusalem, where the earliest followers of Jesus establish a pattern of faithful living through their common life, their public witness, and their persistent adherence to their Jewish traditions. The whole section is located entirely within Jerusalem (1:4,8,12; 2:5; 4:5; 5:16; 6:7; 8:1).
Ten days separate the ascension of Jesus (forty days after Passover, 1:3) from the coming of the Spirit on the day of Pentecost (2:1, fifty days after Passover). Only two things are told of these ten days; already the process of selectivity which shaped Luke’s Gospel can be seen in his second volume.
In the previous blog, I noted that the departure of Jesus by means of his ascension into heaven is actually the moment when Jesus charges his followers to be engaged in mission. The departure of Jesus heralds the start of the church. The (physical) absence of the Saviour brings in the impetus for engaging wholeheartedly with the world which he has (physically) left. In this blog, my focus is on how that community of followers begins to prepare for that enterprise.
Thus, we learn only that the community had gathered on the day of ascension (1:12–14) and that at some stage in these days a replacement was found for Judas Iscariot (1:15–26). The material relating to Judas is omitted from the lectionary offering this year (it appears in Year B); you can read my take on this passage at
The list of those meeting in the upper room of the house in Jerusalem includes both eleven of the twelve already identified (Luke 6:14–16) as well as “certain women, including Mary the mother of Jesus, as well as his brothers” (Acts 1:14). That is consistent with the notes of women who followed Jesus in Galilee (Luke 8:1–3; 23:27, 49) as well as the presence of his brothers (Luke 8:19–21). The community which met together “constantly devoting themselves to prayer” was a gender-inclusive group.
Luke uses a hugely significant Greek word here; the word homothumadon. This is a word used only 12 times in the New Testament, with most of those occurrences in the Book of Acts, and one in Romans. Luke uses it to help us understand the uniqueness of the Christian community. It is most often translated as “all together”.
Luke initially tells of how “they were all together in the upper room” (1:12), forty days after the resurrection of Jesus—the day when Jesus ascended into heaven. Ten days later, they were all together once again, in the precincts of the Temple (2:1), along with devout Jews from all the nations surrounding Israel (2:9–11).
Then in the days following, as “they devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers” (2:42), they continued to be all together; “they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God” (2:46).
And still later, the community of believers came together to welcome Peter and John, after their hearing before the authorities, and “they raised their voice to God all together in prayer” (4:24). And then again, some days later, “they were all together in Solomon’s porch” in the Temple precinct (5:12). Gathering together, meeting in unity, was a key characteristic of the early community of Jesus followers.
As the story continues, Phillip travelled north out of Judea into the region of Samaria, where he was preaching to the Samaritans. Here, Luke comments: “the people were all together listening to those things which Philip spoke” (8:6).
Then, some time later, after Saul had his Damascus Road experience and Peter had his vision of all foods being declared clean, after Paul and Silas and Barnabas had been travelling amongst the Gentiles sharing the good news, we read that there was a gathering of church leaders in Jerusalem, who conferred together, “the apostles and the elders, with the consent of the whole church, being assembled together as one, decided to choose … representatives and send them to you, along with our beloved Barnabas and Paul” (15:22,25).
So the point is, with each step along the way, this little community of assorted disciples, was all together … or, of one accord, in another translation.
In the early chapters of Acts, as we have noted, we are at a very significant point of transition. Luke is clearly marking the end of one phase and the beginning of another. The Jesus part of Luke’s story has come to an end. But it is the beginning of another story—the story of the church.
Homothumadon is a compound of two words, homo meaning “in unison” and thumos meaning “temperament, emotion of the mind, the principle of life, feeling and thought.” One scholar writes that there is a musical sense to this word, where it suggests notes being brought into harmony together, under the masterful hand of the conductor. The role of the conductor is to ensure that flutes and cellos, drums and violas, trumpets and clarinets, are all making their distinctive contribution to the end result—the piece of music being performed for the audience to enjoy.
Perhaps another appropriate image, today, might be of the way that the artist sets out a palette of colours to be used in painting, and as the creative activity gets underway, those various shades and hues and colours are mixed together in such a way as to produce an intricate, complex, and aesthetically pleasing end result: a work of art.
That is how Christian community is to function. That is what we are to be, as the people of God in the place where we gather. Homothumadon denotes the unity of a group who have the same passion, who share the one persuasion, who are of the same mind, of one accord, with one purpose.
Homothumadon suggests both a harmony of feelings as well as singleness of purpose. However, while homothumadon refers to a group acting as one, it does not mean lack of diversity. It means cooperation in the midst of diversity.
The word first appears in Greek literature from 500 years before the time of Jesus (in the plays of the dramatist Aristophanes, the treatises of the philosopher Plato, the oratory of the general Demosthenes) and was used in the political sphere to describe the visible, inner unity of a group which drew together when facing a common duty or danger. The New International Dictionary of New Testament Theology emphasises that “the unanimity is not based on common personal feelings but on a cause greater than the individual”.
In a sermon I gave on this passage, I noted that believers today stand with Peter and the disciples and the women and the brothers of Jesus in a liminal place, a place on the edge. We are leaving behind the old, reaching out to the new. The dramatic events of Pentecost, that we will recall in a week’s time, invite us to move to the future, and to change ourselves in a renewed commitment to our faith and our mission.
These words from the book of Acts challenge us not to simply continue our present practices and beliefs unchanged, but to hear a new message and a new way of being. We are being asked to change ourselves, to let go of what we find reassuring, and step out in faith into the chaos represented by the Spirit of God. We are being asked to be all together, to ‘act of one spirit’, to unite for the common good. May we be up to the challenge!
The following dialogue was written by Elizabeth Raine and John Squires,and delivers as the sermon for the Tuggeranong Uniting Church on Sunday 14 May 2023.
*****
While Paul was waiting in Athens for Silas and Timothy, he was greatly upset when he noticed how full of idols the city was. So he argued in the synagogue with the Jews and the gentiles who worshipped God, and in the public square every day with the people who happened to come by.
Then Paul was brought before the city council, which met at the Areopagus in Athens. Today, as we listen to what Paul said to the council, we are also going to listen in to what might have been going through the minds of two people in his audience: a learned Greek man called Demetrius, and a woman of deep faith, known as Damaris.
Paul stood up in front of the meeting of the Areopagus and said, “People of Athens, I see that in every way you are very religious.”
Demetrius: Yes, this is correct. We are very proud of our religions here in Athens. As religious people, we worship lots of gods. Just look around you, and you will see altars and temples of every size, shape, and description. Over there, is the fine temple to Zeus. And beside it, the shrine to Apollo; it, too, is a remarkable holy building. It is not for nothing that we in Athens have the reputation of great piety.
And, of course, when you turn your eyes to the top of the hill, you will see the pride and joy of our city: the magnificent temple of Artemis, where our ancestors have long worshipped the greatest of all goddesses. This temple is world famous. It is respected — even envied, dare I say — by peoples of all other nations.
And Athens has also been blessed by many famous teachers of philosophy. Plato and Socrates, Aristotle and Pythagoras, Epicurus and many more. Why, even today, I believe that you could find no better array of teachers in any other city!
Yes, all of this shows you just how religious we are. This Paul is so right when he describes us in such generous terms.
Damaris: Indeed, it is true that we do have a lot of temples in our city. And we certainly have many fine teachers, as you say. Lots of people say that we are the most religious city in the world.
But something is missing, I think. There is so much ritual and pomp and ceremony that goes on; sometimes, I think that this can get in the way of worshipping the gods, rather than helping us to worship them.
And there are so many teachers who speak truths that are complex; sometimes it hurts my head just to listen to them all! And all those poor animals that are sacrificed to all of these gods and goddesses. I wonder whether this really is such a good idea.
I have heard it said that Paul believes in a god that cannot be depicted on stone. It’s a curious idea to us Athenians; but some of my friends have told me about the group that believes this idea. A god that exists, but that we can’t see, or know much about at all is an odd idea.
23Paul continued, “For as I walked through your city and looked at the places where you worship, I found also an altar on which is written, ‘To an Unknown God.’ That which you worship, then, even though you do not know it, is what I now proclaim to you. God, who made the world and everything in it, is Lord of heaven and earth, and does not live in temples made by humans. Nor does God need anything that people can supply by working for him, since it is God himself who gives life and breath and everything else to all people. From the one person God created all human beings, and he made them live over the whole earth. God himself fixed beforehand the exact times and the limits of the places where they would live.”
Demetrius: Mmm, yes. Good point. I agree. Paul has said some important things about this God. When you boil it all down, there is a force in human history that looks over all things. Providence, or Fate, we call it.
And despite all of these shrines and images of the gods, there is a quality about the divine that is rather unknown to us. In the end, we would have to say that the gods are beyond our understanding. This is what our revered teacher, Plato, said about them. The gods transcend this earthly life and really have no need of our human worship.
Many of the priests in our city would be horrified by this, as they insist that we get access to the gods by offering sacrifices. But this kind of other-worldly god is very attractive. I like what Paul has to say.
Damaris: Yes, I too find Paul’s words attractive, Demetrius. And it is reassuring to know that all the things that happen in life are ultimately under the control of Divine Providence. But I am a little bit worried about what Paul seems to be saying. The god he is talking about seems to be rather removed from us all. I wonder how Paul thinks this god of his could be accessible to us? How could we relate to this god, if we can’t see his image?
Paul went on to say, “God did this so that they would look for him, and perhaps find him as they felt around for him. Yet God is actually not far from any one of us; as someone has said, ‘In him we live and move and exist.’ It is as some of your poets have said, ‘We too are his children.’”
Demetrius: Well, this is a surprising turn. From a god who is so far away from us, to a god who is near to us. Come to think of it, Paul is on to something here. In fact, he is quoting from our own Greek traditions here. I recognise those words he said — Aratus, I think it was, the poet, who said of god “in him we live and move and exist”. And “we are god’s children” — I know that, too. Well, that is very good, a Jew like Paul, showing that he knows our poetry and philosophical writings.
Damaris: I quite like the idea of a god who is with me all the time. All of these holy places and holy rituals can get too much, and tend to place too many things in between the gods and ourselves. Sometimes I’d just like to be able to relate to a god in an intimate, and personal way. So a god who is with me all the time — not just when I visit his shrine or place a sacrifice on his altar — is an appealing concept. “We are God’s children” — God as the one who gives birth to us, who nurtures us, who disciplines us, and who loves us. This sounds really good.
Demetrius: Yes, this is great. A god who is always with us. Why don’t we build an altar to him! I’ll get in touch with my friend Stephanas, he has a very good stone mason as one of his slaves, and we’ll see what we can come up with. I can just see it now; “To the god in whom we live and move and exist: this statue was erected by Demetrius and Stephanas” — no, “this statue was erected by Demetrius, with help from Stephanas”. Oh, why not just, “erected by Demetrius, a leading citizen of the city”. In large letters. Yes, that will look fine. And we’ll use the best stone; and have it trimmed in gold, with bright colours, so that it stands out, and….
“No!”, said Paul. “Since we are God’s children, we should not suppose that his nature is anything like an image of gold or silver or stone, shaped by the art and skill of a human being.”
Demetrius: No?
Damaris: I think I see the point. If this god is always near to us, then it would be silly to build an altar or erect a temple for him. After all, the temple is where the god or goddess lives, so that we know where to go to visit them. But if the god is always with us, then we don’t need to build him or her a home. So, if we aren’t going to build an altar or put up a statue, how are we going to worship this god?
Then Paul explained, “God has overlooked the times when people did not know, but now he commands all people everywhere to turn away from their evil ways. For God has fixed a day in which he will judge the whole world with justice, by means of a man he has chosen. He has given proof of this to everyone by raising that man from death!”
Demetrius: Oh, now he has spoilt it. What! How can a person be raised from the dead? Everyone knows that once we die, we go down into the underworld and live as shadows. Once you cross the river Styx, your previous life is left far behind. Who would want to go back into the earthly body once again?
No, this claim by Paul raises too many questions that are just not able to be answered satisfactorily. Any talk about raising the dead and bringing back their bodies is stupid.
Damaris: Well, to tell you the truth, I’ve always been worried by this idea. The thought of being a shadow after I die doesn’t really hold any attraction for me. I am much more interested in the story of a god who is able to transform death. What a powerful and caring god this must be! After all, death is what we all must face, and what we all fear so much.
And further, I am starting to see something quite special in what Paul is talking about. He has mentioned a special man, a chosen human being, who will be the one to carry out God’s justice in all the world. This idea is what really grabs me. To think that a god can not only be with us, but that this god can be a human being, just one of us, is really very special.
Now that I think about, this message reminds me of a letter that I received from my sister in Corinth just recently. As I recall now, she spoke about this man named Paul, who had visited the city, and had preached about a man from Nazareth, in the province of Galilee. Paul said that this man, Jesus, was not only a great prophet, but that he had been raised from the dead, and that he is the one who will bring God’s justice into the world. Perhaps this Paul that we are listening to today is the same person that she was talking about?
As Paul puts it, this God has a presence and a power that touches human life in profound and moving ways. This kind of power is lacking in the stone images that I see around me. Paul is leading me right into the heart of this God. So I think I will take his advice, and turn away from the gods I used to worship, and wait for the coming of divine justice through this man who is raised from the dead.
When the people heard Paul speak about a raising from death, some of them made fun of him, but others said, “We want to hear you speak about this again.”
Demetrius: Well, I have to say that this Paul is a bit of a surprise. I admit that he has said one or two foolish things — but not quite as many as I thought he would when he started. But this business of being raised from death is just not on. Yet some of the things that he has said are worth pondering. He is quite a philosopher, isn’t he? I can’t make up my mind about him, and about the god that he has proclaimed to us, and the religion that he has told us about. I’ll need some time to reflect on what he has said.
Perhaps he will be back in the public square tomorrow; I hope so. Maybe I will go there with my kitchen slaves in the morning, when they go to buy our household food for the midday dinner.
Then Paul left their meeting. Some men joined him and believed; among them was Dionysius, a member of the Areopagus, a woman named Damaris, and some others.
*****
As we return to the 21st century, it is worthwhile pondering Paul’s words and actions, and the response that both Damaris and Demetrius had to these words.
The words of Luke suggests that perhaps Paul was “off duty”, as his prime reason for being in Athens was to wait for Silas and Timothy to rejoin him there. Unable to do nothing or ignore the temples of idols around him, Paul’s idea of “off duty” appears to be to argue with everyone he meets in the town square. However this may have been perceived, Paul’s message of “the God you are looking for, the God you don’t even have a name for, the God who is in danger of getting lost in the plethora of all the other idols you are worshipping – let me tell you about that God…” is the God that we surely could take with us into our own town squares – maybe represented today by our cathedrals of consumerism in the large shopping malls, clubs and coffee shops we frequent today.
Paul presents his “new teaching” and “strange ideas” by meeting the Athenians on their own ground, by quoting two of the Greek poets: the Cretan Epimenides (600 BCE), that “in him we live and move and have our being,” and then the opening lines of the Phaenomena by Aratus (315-240 BCE), a Greek poet and Stoic of Cilicia, that “we are his children.”
It is also worth noting that Paul does not condemn them as unredeemed pagans on a one-way trip to hell, he tells them that both he and they worship the same God. Paul plainly saw God at work in the world through all people, and we would do well to remember this as well. Paul viewed the venerable Areopagus as just another place where the Lord of all creation had gone before him and was already present; indeed, as Paul said to the Athenians, “He is not far from each one of us.”
We Christians need to be aware of isolating and insulating ourselves from our culture’s mainstream. We must avoid being inward-looking, self-absorbed, and judgmental, instead of engaging people in our contemporary Areopagus. Instead, we need to follow Paul’s example of living, learning and sharing the gospel in the marketplace of ideas, engaging real people where they live, work, and think, in order to gain a hearing for our “strange ideas” about God, grace, and the resurrection.
As we prepare for this coming Sunday, when we will hear about the fate of Stephen, the first martyr in the movement initiated by Jesus, we continue our considerations of the longest speech in Acts, which also reveals significant elements of the theological commitments held by the author of Acts—by tradition, named as Luke.
The reading offered by the lectionary (Acts 7:55–60) comes from one of the longest chapters in that book. That chapter records in great detail the speech made by Stephen, when he was brought before the council, charged with “saying things against this holy place and the law” (Acts 6:13). However, we are really shortchanged, because although this is the longest of all the speeches in Acts, we are given only the final comment by Stephen—just one verse (7:56)—before he is stoned, and he dies saying “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit” (7:59).
So in a series of blogs this week, I have been considering the whole of this speech in some detail. Let’s not undervalue the contribution of this Lukan-created speech, attributed to Stephen, in the theology of the two-volume work, Luke-Acts. (My analysis is based on what I wrote in my commentary on Acts in the Eerdman’s Commentary on the Bible (2003).)
After recounting the ancestral sagas of Israel, and the story of Moses (7:1–43), Stephen then summarises how God was at work in the conquest of Israel and the early monarchy. The presence of the tent of testimony fulfils what God commanded to Moses (7:44; cf. Exod 25:40); Joshua leads the conquest of the nations “whom God drove out” (7:45; cf. Josh 21:43-45; 23:9; 24:18); the tent remains in the land until the time of David, who “had grace before God” (7:46; on grace, see 2:47).
The speech ends with Solomon’s action of building a house for God (7:47). According to Stephen, this inverts the typical relationship seen in Israel’s history. The Deuteronomic explanation for the building of the temple was that it was done in fulfilment of God’s promise to David (1 Kgs 8:14-21). By contrast, Stephen announces that, by building the temple, Solomon acted in a way that God has not sanctioned. Solomon thus repeats the error made under Moses, when the Israelites made an idol and “revelled in the works of their hands” (7:39-41).
The argument leads us to expect that Solomon would incur the same wrath as exhibited to the people under Moses (7:42-43). Indeed, God’s opposition to Solomon’s building is evident in that it is not in the temple built by human hands (7:48) but in the world which “my [God’s] hand made” (7:50) that God is to be found. Stephen here quotes a prophetic text (Isa 66:1-2), but the message resonates with the way that Cynic philosophers mounted their critiques of idols.
The climactic moment of this speech provides a foundation for understanding the subsequent shift of focus away from the temple, and towards the house-based communities that will be established during the ‘turn to the Gentiles’ in chapters 8–12. The language about God in the latter part of this speech thus establishes a parallel set of antagonisms: between God and Israel under Moses, and between God and Israel under Solomon.
A further parallel can be drawn from the surrounding narrative: there is antagonism between God and the Jewish authorities who have brought Stephen (God’s agent) to trial. This antagonism mirrors both the antagonism which the apostles (God’s agents) have experienced from the same Jewish authorities (chapters 3–5), and the antagonism mounted against Jesus (another of God’s agents) by those authorities (Luke 19:47 onwards; Acts 4:27). Paul (yet another of Gods agents) will subsequently experience similar antagonism in his encounters with Jewish groups in the Diaspora (9:23; chapters 13–18) and in Jerusalem (9:29, 21:27-28).
In concluding the speech, Luke has Stephen turn his focus directly onto his accusers; he levels his own charges against them, depicting them as “resisting the holy spirit” (7:51). At this point Ananias and Sapphira come to mind; for a similar antagonism towards the spirit, they were killed (5:1-11). However, the tables are turned on Stephen, for those listening to his speech interrupt him at this point.
*****
And so we come to the Lukan narrative about the fate of Stephen, the first martyr in the movement initiated by Jesus. After the long account of the story of Israel, Stephen’s martyrdom (7:54-8:1a) is told. There is reinforcement of the validity of his point of view which comes through language about the divine. in what is narrated, in typical Lukan style.
Stephen is once again described as “filled with the spirit” (7:55, evoking 6:3,5). He experiences an epiphany in which he sees “the glory of God” (7:55), which aligns him with Abraham (7:2), as well as “Jesus standing at the right hand of God” (7:55-56). Stephen is also aligned with Jesus; in 7:56, his description of the heavens opening evokes the Lukan account of Jesus’ baptism (Luke 3:21), and his vision of the Son of Man is similar to the apocalyptic vision which Jesus paints at his trial (Luke 22:69).
Stephen’s two cries “in a great voice” (7:57,60) are reminiscent of the death of Jesus (Luke 23:46), and his dying words, “receive my spirit” (7:59), are patterned on the final words of the Lukan Jesus (Luke 23:46, citing Ps 31:6). Stephen’s last cry, a petition that the Lord overlook this sin (7:60), is similarly evocative of the Lukan Jesus’ forgiveness of those who crucified him (Luke 23:34). As Luke clearly interprets the death of Jesus as God’s predetermined action (2:23, 4:28), this similar description of Stephen’s death has at least overtones of divine authorisation, even if they are not explicit.
Later in his narrative, Luke has Paul describe Stephen as God’s “witness” (22:20). As already noted, the task of bearing witness is enabled by the gift of the spirit (1:8). There follows the seventh summary description of the community (8:1b-3), the final one of this first section, in which the opposition experienced by Peter and John, and more dramatically by Stephen, is broadened to include the persecution of everyone in the Jerusalem assembly except the apostles (8:1).
This leads to the scattering of the community (8:1b), an adversity which will come to be the primary means by which the promise of 1:8 is fulfilled—beginning here with Judaea and Samaria. The summary description also notes the role played by Saul in this persecution of the assembly (8:3).
Stephen is an important figure in the narrative that is offered in the Book of Acts. He is the pivot on which the storyline shifts from “in Jerusalem” (chs. 1–7), beginning to turn “to the Gentiles” (chs. 8–12) and then on into the missionary activities of Paul and his companions (chs. 13 onwards). The early church recognised the significance of Stephen, declaring him to be a saint, and honouring him as the first Christian martyr.
As we prepare for this coming Sunday, when we will hear about the fate of Stephen, the first martyr in the movement initiated by Jesus (Acts 7:55–60), we continue our considerations of the longest speech in Acts, Stephen’s speech (7:1-53). By means of this speech, Luke matches the divinely-given qualities of Stephen (6:3,5,8,10) with his testimony to the acts of God in the history of Israel.
This Lukan-created speech, attributed to Stephen, makes a critical contribution to the theology of the two-volume work, Luke-Acts. (My analysis is based on what I wrote in my commentary on Acts in the Eerdman’s Commentary on the Bible (2003).) It is the longest speech of all of the speeches in Acts, and thus deserves our attention, even if the lectionary fails to include it!
The speech begins in typical Lukan fashion by defining the subject as God (7:2; cf. 2:17; 3:13; 5:30); the phrase used here, “the God of glory”, is drawn from scripture (Ps 29:3). The speech which follows rebuts the charges laid against Stephen; it demonstrates that, far from speaking “blasphemous words against God” (6:11), Stephen has a fulsome understanding of God’s place in Israel’s history.
At the end of his speech, Stephen takes up the charge that he spoke “against the holy place” (6:13). Luke has Stephen quote scripture, “Heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool. What kind of house will you build for me, says the Lord, or what is the place of my rest? Did not my hand make all these things?’” (Acts 49-50, citing Isa 66:1-2), in order to show that his criticism of the temple (God’s “place of rest”, 7:49) arises from within Jewish tradition itself.
Stephen makes numerous scriptural allusions and quotations in this speech. In general, this seems similar to the earlier speeches by Peter, although the precise function of these scriptural elements is somewhat distinctive in this speech. Here, scripture functions as historical narrative, whereas elsewhere in Acts it provides prophecies to be fulfilled. (The exceptions within the speech are the prophecies of 7:6,7 which are fulfilled at 7:9-16 and 7:36 respectively.)
Luke has Stephen provide a detailed rehearsal of significant parts of Israel’s history, by focussing in turn on Abraham (7:2-8), Joseph (7:9-16) and Moses (7:17-44). Then, after making brief mention of Joshua (7:45a), David (7:45b-46) and Solomon (7:47), Stephen moves to the climactic claim of the speech (7:48-53). This is an ancient Jewish practice; lengthy recitals of key features of Israel’s history are already found in Hebrew Scripture (Deut 26; Josh 24; Neh 9; Pss 78; 105; 106; 135; 136; Ezek 20).
In the present instance, the effect of the long recital of the earlier part of Israel’s history is twofold. First, the historical recital reinforces Stephen’s Jewish credentials. When he begins to speak critically of the temple, and of the Jerusalem authorities, it is clear that he does so from within the Jewish tradition. Stephen is not an outsider, but an insider, offering a prophetic critique.
Second, the historical recital provides insight into a further layer of God’s providential activity. Earlier speeches by Peter have interpreted the events of the life, death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus as being within the divine providence (see 2:14-41). Various features of the narrative of Acts have revealed the active involvement of God in the events that take place in the Jerusalem community. Now, the undergirding plan of God is revealed within the long history of Israel. The line of continuity is strengthened between each layer; just as God is at work in the Jerusalem community, so God is at work in the life of Jesus, and God is at work in the history of Israel. There is a strong line of continuity being drawn by Luke.
Each of the leaders of Israel is interpreted in typically Lukan style to present them as the vehicles through whom God was working in history. It was to Abraham (7:2-8) that God appeared, speaking to him the promise of a land (“God … said to him”, 7:2-3; cf. Gen 12:1). His move from Haran to Canaan was at the initiative of God (7:4; cf. Gen 11:35–12:5), but the fact that his descendants did not inherit this land was also God’s intention (7:5; cf. Gen 17:8). Subsequently God spoke to Abraham of the promise of the covenant of circumcision (“God spoke thus … and God said”, 7:6-8; cf. Gen 17:9-14).
Of Joseph (7:9-16), Luke has Stephen say that “God was with him” (7:9; cf. Gen 39:1-3,21), the same phrase as is later used of Jesus (10:38). God’s presence enables Joseph to exhibit grace and wisdom (7:10), characteristics with which God had also endowed Stephen (6:3,8,10) and Jesus (Luke 1:40,52). As a result of his wisdom, Joseph is given authority by Pharaoh (7:10; cf. Gen 41:37-45). Joseph is brought through afflictions and is rescued by God (7:10); the same term describes God’s rescue of Israel under Moses (7:34, quoting Exod 3:7-8) and of Paul (26:17).
The events which follow are reported without explicit reference to God, but demonstrate the outworking of Joseph’s wisdom. The ensuing famine (7:11; cf. Gen 41:53-54) leads to the two visits of Joseph’s brothers (7:12-13; cf. Gen 42:1-28; 43:1-44:34). The family settle in Egypt (7:14-15; cf. Gen 45:1-47:12); subsequently Jacob and others are returned to the family grave at Schechem in Canaan (7:16; cf. Gen 49:29-32; 50:13, where the grave is located in Hebron).
After recounting the ancestral sagas of Israel, Stephen moves on to the “time of the promise which God confessed to Abraham”, which comes to fruition under Moses (7:17-43). During the time between Joseph and Moses, the people “increased and multiplied” (7:17), the same phrase used to describe the expanding community in Jerusalem (“the number of disciples increased and multiplied greatly”, 6:7) and elsewhere (12:24; 19:20).
At his birth, Moses is “beautiful before God” (7:20; cf. Exod 2:2). As he grows, he is trained in wisdom in Egypt and becomes “powerful in his words and deeds” (7:22). These qualities evoke the divine enabling seen in Luke’s accounts of Stephen, the apostles, and Jesus, and are in direct contrast with the scriptural description of Moses as “slow of speech and slow of tongue” (Exod 4:10).
Luke has Stephen demonstrate that Moses shares other similarities with those chosen by God in later ages, especially Jesus. Despite the rejection he experiences from his kinsfolk (7:23-29; cf. Exod 2:11-22), “God through his hand gave salvation” to Israel (7:25), just as God later gives salvation through Jesus (Luke 1:69; 2:11,30; 3:6; Acts 5:31; 13:23,26). When this salvation takes place under Moses it is accompanied by divinely-enabled wonders and signs (7:36; cf. Exod 7:3), as it does through Jesus (2:22). This fulfils the command given to Moses (7:34) when an angel appeared to him in the burning bush (7:30) and God spoke to him (7:32,33-34; cf. Exod 3:1-10).
Stephen omits entirely the series of objections raised by Moses when he is called (Exod 3:11-4:17); his portrayal of Moses is that of a person who is immediately obedient to the divine call. This sequence of call (7:30-34) and obedient response (7:36) repeats the pattern seen with Abraham (call, 7:2-3; obedient response, 7:4). It is replicated in the narrative of Acts, especially with regard to Saul (call, 9:15; obedient response, 9:19b-20).
Stephen tells of Moses being mocked by his kinsfolk, who could not conceive of him as ruler and judge (7:27,35; cf. Exod 2:14). Stephen affirms that he is rightly called ruler, infers that he is correctly regarded as judge, and adds the further title of liberator (7:35). The functions of two of these titles are attributed to Jesus (judgement at 10:42; 17:31; liberation at Luke 1:68; 2:38; 21:28; 24:21). The third function, of leader, is not directly attributed to Jesus by Luke; however, he does use the related term archegos at 3:15; 5:31.
A further title applied to Moses is the scriptural one of prophet (7:37; cf. Deut 18:15), which has also been applied to Jesus (Luke 7:16; 9:8,19; 24:19) as well as to numerous individuals in the narrative of the Gospel (Luke 1:67,76; 2:36; 7:26) and Acts (11:27; 15:32; 21:9). That it is a divinely-bestowed function is already evident from Peter’s Pentecost speech: “I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams” (2:17-18).
Stephen’s depiction of Moses thus resonates strongly with the Lukan understanding of Jesus, the prophet, ruler and judge through whom God was at work enabling signs and wonders and bringing liberation and salvation for the people of Israel.
As prophet, Moses is given living oracles by yet another angel (7:38; see 7:53; cf. Exod 19:1-2:21; Deut 5:1-33). The idea that the law was mediated by angels is not found in Hebrew Scripture; it is mentioned at Gal 3:17; Heb 2:2. Moses in turn passes on these oracles to Israel, but they refuse to accept them and commit idolatry by making a golden calf (7:39-43; cf. Exod 32:1-35). The description of the golden calf introduces the theme of idolatry which will undergird Stephen’s critique of the temple in 7:48-51. A prophetic citation (Amos 5:25-27) provides justification for God’s abandonment of Israel (7:42); they had been idolators in the wilderness (7:42-43).
Stephen is an important figure in the narrative that is offered in the Book of Acts. He is the pivot on which the storyline shifts from “in Jerusalem” (chs. 1–7), beginning to turn “to the Gentiles” (chs. 8–12) and then on into the missionary activities of Paul and his companions (chs. 13 onwards). The early church recognised the significance of Stephen, declaring him to be a saint, and honouring him as the first Christian martyr.
The lectionary really shortchanges us this coming Sunday. As is the custom during the season of Easter, the First Reading comes from the book of Acts, rather than from Hebrew Scriptures. And this week, the Fifth Sunday of Easter, that reading comes from one of the longest chapters in that book. That chapter records in great detail the speech made by Stephen, when he was brought before the council, charged with “saying things against this holy place and the law” (Acts 6:13).
However, we are really shortchanged, because although this is the longest of all the speeches in Acts, in the passage offered by the lectionary (Acts 7:55–60), we are given only the final comment by Stephen—just one verse (7:56)—before he is stoned, and he dies saying “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit” (7:59).
So in a series of blogs this week, I will consider the setting as well as the content of this speech, and the consequence that followed from it for Stephen—namely, his death as a martyr. Let’s not undervalue the contribution of this Lukan-created speech, attributed to Stephen, in the theology of the two-volume work, Luke-Acts. (My analysis is based on what I wrote in my commentary on Acts in the Eerdman’s Commentary on the Bible (2003).)
The setting of the speech. After chapters telling of the gathering of the early community in Jerusalem (1:6-26), events on the day of Pentecost (2:1-47), the activities of Peter and John in the Temple and before the Council (3:1-5:42), and the establishment of a diaconal role to meet the material needs of the community (6:1-6), Luke (the person attributed in tradition as the author of the Book of Acts) provides the sixth in a series of summary descriptions of the community: “the word of God continued to spread; the number of the disciples increased greatly in Jerusalem, and a great many of the priests became obedient to the faith” (6:7; see earlier at 1:14; 2:42-47; 4:32-35; 5:12; 5:42).
This summary repeats key phrases from the narrative of the scene which has just concluded. “The word of God” (6:2) is now used to describe the community itself, rather than an activity of its leadership; “disciple” (6:1,2) now becomes the standard term for members of the messianic community (6:7; and a further 25 times in chapters 9-21).
The increasing numbers in the community (6:1) forms the basis for the comment that “the number of disciples increased and multiplied greatly” (6:7); the two verbs that are used here recur with the word of God in subsequent summary descriptions (12:24; 19:20; similar ideas are expressed at 9:31; 16:5). The membership of the community now comprises “a great many of the priests”—a surprising comment, in light both of the constant opposition shown by the priests to this point (4:1,6; 5:17,21,24,27) and of the role that the priests will soon play in Stephen’s death (7:1; as members of the council, 6:12).
The fate of Stephen is now told. Out of the seven just appointed, Luke focuses first on Stephen, who is described in familiar terms as a person empowered by God. Stephen is full of grace (6:8), a mark of the community at 2:47, 4:33, and of power, a divine gift (2:22) exhibited by the apostles (4:33); he is able to perform wonders and signs (6:8), a divinely-inspired capacity (2:19) exhibited by Jesus (2:22) and the apostles (2:43; 5:12). Luke notes again that he speaks with wisdom and spirit (6:10), attributes already noted as divine in origin (see 6:3); here they are qualified as being unable to be withstood by humans.
This description introduces the account of the arrest of Stephen (6:8-15). This is a stylised account which draws from familiar Lukan themes. Those in conflict with Stephen are Diaspora Jews who have returned to Jerusalem, where they worship in a synagogue (6:9). However, they do not make the front running against Stephen, but they conscript agitators to stir up the crowd (6:11-12). This is reminiscent of a detail in the trial of Jesus (Mark 15:11; Matt 27:20) which Luke omits, transferring it to Stephen’s trial. Similar agitation of the crowd will later be encountered by Paul (13:50; 14:19; 17:5,13).
Likewise, the “false witnesses” who accuse Stephen of speaking against the temple (6:13) recall the false witnesses who charge Jesus with the claim that he would destroy the temple (Mark 14:55-58; Matt 26:59-61), another detail which Luke transfers to Stephen’s trial. Later, Luke will consciously model Stephen’s death on the death scene of Jesus (7:54-60; cf. Luke 23:34,44-46).
Stephen is charged with uttering “blasphemous words against Moses and God” (6:11) which are manifest in his allegedly speaking against “this holy place and the law” (6:13). Similar charges are later brought against Paul (21:28). The charges against Stephen turn out to be ironic, since in the speech which follows, he will speak at length and with deep conviction about the people of Israel, to whom the law was given, and with penetrating insight about the role of the holy place of Israel.
It is worth remembering that Stephen, venerated as the first Christian martyr, was fervent in his adherence to the Jewish faith into which he was born. How tragic that his strong advocacy for what he saw as the most faithful way to live out his commitment led to his death. How ironic that the first Christian martyr died for being a deeply devout Messianic Jew!
Stephen is an important figure in the narrative that is offered in the Book of Acts. He is the pivot on which the storyline shifts from “in Jerusalem” (chs. 1–7), beginning to turn “to the Gentiles” (chs. 8–12) and then on into the missionary activities of Paul and his companions (chs. 13 onwards). He is also an important figure in the developing movement that began with Jesus. The early church recognised the significance of Stephen, declaring him to be a saint, and honouring him as the first Christian martyr. See more at
The passage from Acts which is offered by the lectionary this coming Sunday (Acts 10:34–43) is an impassioned speech to Gentiles, by the Jewish man, Peter. It is one of a number of speeches that are found throughout the first two thirds of the book of Acts, in which one of the leaders in the movement that was initiated by Jesus (and would later become “the church”) spoke to others, declaring “the good news about the kingdom of God and the name of Jesus Christ” (8:12; see also 8:25, 35, 40; 13:32; 14:7, 15, 21; 15:7; 16:10; 17:18; 20:24).
These speeches, of course, all come to us from the pen of one person, the author of this work; although they are, in good speech-writing style, shaped to the particular situation at hand, there is nevertheless a consistency of themes, ideas, and language that runs through the speeches which have what me might call an evangelistic purpose—declaring the good news (the evangel) to those who have not yet heard it. Whether it is Peter, Stephen, Philip, or Paul who is speaking, the message is consistent and focussed on Jesus and how he relates to God’s intention for the people being addressed.
So Peter has come, by a sequence of events that Luke wants us to understand were quite miraculous, from Joppa to Caesarea; from the house of the Jewish man Simon, a tanner, with whom he was staying in Joppa (9:43), to the house of Cornelius, a centurion—and thus most likely a Gentile—in Caesarea (10:1–2). That movement, in itself, is quite significant, as Peter moves from his fellow-Jews to the Gentiles. Cornelius was sympathetic to Judaism; he is described as “a devout man who feared God … who gave alms and payed constantly” (10:2), he was, nevertheless, a Gentile; and those of his household were, likewise, Gentiles.
What Peter says in this speech in the Gentile household of Cornelius needs to be understood in the context of the events that have just taken place, and indeed in terms of the whole span of events recounted in this volume. Peter had been called to Caesarea by a vision, in which God spoke directly to Peter (10:9–15)—and Luke,reports that this took place, not once, but three times (10:16). In what God said, Peter was given a message, to declare to others who were part of the movement that he had been leading since Jesus had ascended into heaven (1:6–14).
That message, “what God has made clean, you must not call profane” (10:15) was, in effect a call to Peter to speak to that movement as a prophet. Prophets were anointed by the spirit to declare “the word of the Lord” for the people of their time (1 Sam 19:20, 23; Isa 11:2; 59:21; 61:1; Ezek 2:2; Joel 2:28–29; Micah 3:8; Zech 7:12, referring to “the former prophets”). Indeed, the servant of the Lord himself is guided by the spirit (Isa 42:1). The Spirit actually calls Peter to go with three men who have come searching for him (10:19–20); they lead him to Caesarea, to the house of Cornelius, where he duly delivers this message (10:24–29).
Subsequently, as he speaks in more details to the assembled household, the Spirit falls on all present, as they listen to Peter’s words (10:44). This coming of the Spirit had happened before, and it will happen again, as the story of Acts continues. But there is something striking and significance about this story of the coming of the spirit.
This has happened before. The spirit has twice filled the messianic community gathered in the Jewish capital, Jerusalem (at Pentecost, 2:1-4, and subsequently, 4:31). When the spirit is poured out on the Gentiles (10:45) in this gentile capital, it is already known that this is an act of God; “God declares, I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams” (2:17).
In both previous cases, God had acted through the spirit in relation to Jews. That this current outpouring of the spirit, outside of Judaea, amongst Gentiles, is still an act of God, is emphasised by a series of narrative comments. The Jewish believers present express surprise at “the gift of the holy spirit” (10:45), but the reader already knows that such a gift is from God (2:38, 8:18).
They hear the Gentiles “speaking in tongues” (10:46), a phenomenon already experienced as a divine event in Jerusalem (2:11). Peter draws this connection when he interprets the event: they “received the spirit as we also [did]” (10:47; see 2:38). Peter and his fellow Jews thus “exulted God” (10:47; see 5:13).
Indeed, the Spirit had come to these Gentiles after a striking sequence of events had taken place. Peter had a vision whilst praying in Joppa, that he was no longer to keep separate at table (10:9–16). No longer were Jews to eat separated from Gentiles. God had declared all foods clean (10:15), so separate table fellowship was now overturned. Peter receives this dramatic change to the status quo—and he faithfully acts on it.
Peter and his companions in Joppa share at table with the men from Cornelius (10:23; 11:4–11) and then, when they have travelled to Caesarea, with the household of Cornelius and those who were baptised with him (10:48; 11:12–18). Indeed, the very point of the vision seen by Peter is to establish an inclusive, all-embracing table fellowship in the Jesus movement, open to both Jews and Gentiles, from this point onwards (11:3).
This is a moment when the old is overturned, and the new is implemented. It is a strong moment of transition for the early church. From this time, the good news spreads amongst Gentiles; to the extent that it does, indeed, reach “to the ends of the earth” (see 1:8) by the end of the book. (In saying this, I take the arrival of Paul into Rome in Ch.28 to be a symbol of the fact that, as the good news becomes known in Rome, the centre of the dominant empire of the day, so that message will then be taken out from the city into all the far-flung reaches of the empire—in a sense, “to the ends of the earth”.)
So the story of Peter and Cornelius, narrated in detail in chapter 10 and then reported in summary to the gathering in Jerusalem in chapter 11, is a key turning point in the overall story being told in Acts. (In my research, I describe Acts 8–12 as “the turn to the Gentiles”, the pivot on which the whole story turns.) it is in this dramatic and pivotal context that Peter speaks the words which are offered by the lectionary for the First Reading on Easter Sunday. This speech is worth attending to in some detail.
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This speech by Peter begins in the characteristic style of previous speeches, by announcing God as its subject (see 2:16–21, 22; 3:13; 4:24; 5:29–30; 7:2; and see subsequently at 13:16–17; 14:15–17; 15:7, 13–17; 17:23–25; and as a summary, 20:24, 27). I have explored this in other blogs at
The key theme of this speech is the impartiality of God (10:34), an important theme, especially in later scriptural writings. “The Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who is not partial and takes no bribe”, Moses declares (Deut 10:17). God is one “who shows no partiality to nobles, nor regards the rich more than the poor—for they are all the work of his hands”, Elihu advises Job (Job 34:19).
Later writings concur: “the Lord of all will not stand in awe of anyone, or show deference to greatness … he takes thought for all alike” (Wisd 6:7), and “do not offer [the Lord] a bribe, for he will not accept it … the Lord is the judge, and with him there is no partiality; he will not show partiality to the poor, but he will listen to the prayer of the one who is wronged; he will not ignore the supplication of the orphan, or the widow when she pours out her complaint” (Sir 35:13–17).
This theme of divine impartiality thus reinforces and confirms the message of the vision (10:11–16). Even though the prescriptions of the levitical holiness code where being adhered to by faithful Jews, the vision speaks over those regulations and invites that who see it and hear God’s words into a new manner of being community. Specifically, that vision validated table-fellowship as being consistent with divine impartiality, a key aspect of God’s nature. Things would be different from now on!
Peter explains that this divine impartiality is especially evident in Jesus, whom he affirms as Lord of all (10:36). Peter interprets the whole life of Jesus as the action of God, who anointed him, was with him, raised him and made him manifest (10:37–43). For Peter, the significance of what Jesus did and said was that he was addressing not only Jews, but also Gentiles.
Peter affirms both the apostolic witness: “we are witnesses to all that he did” (10:39,41; see 2:32, 3:15, 5:32) and also the prophetic witness: “all the prophets testify about him” (10:43; see 2:25-31,33–35, 3:18,21–25, 4:25–26). We see here a rhetorical strategy typical of Luke, who has Peter make the exaggerated claim that “all the prophets testify about him” (10:43; see 3:24). These prophets testify to “the forgiveness of sins” which is essential to this proclamation (2:38, 5:31, 13:38).
Peter continues, that Jesus has been “ordained by God” to be the eschatological “judge of the living and the dead” (10:42), a concept which Paul will later express (17:31; cf. 24:15). The speech thus comprises a consistent exposition of God’s activities in Jesus, extensively in the past as well as (briefly) in the future. When we read what Peter says here, alongside what he says in other evangelistic speeches in Acts (chs. 2, 3, 4, 5, and 13), as well as what Stephen says in his long speech (Ch.7) and what Paul says to Jews (Ch.13) and to Gentiles (chs. 14 and 17), we end up with a most comprehensive statement of the Gospel and how it relates to the ways that God had long been at work in Israel.
The author’s interpretation of the events that have taken place in Caesarea draws them into close relationship with the interpretation of Jesus which Peter has given (here, and in earlier speeches in Acts). That is not surprising, since it is the one person (Luke, the alleged author of this work) who has reported all of these speeches—and, in my opinion, has actually created each speech.
Certainly, the speech itself relates to key features in the surrounding scenes involving Peter, a Jewish man, with the Gentile Cornelius, and his Gentile household. The impartial God who has acted through Jesus (10:34–43) is the same God who declares all things clean (10:15), who shows this to Peter (10:28), who gifts Gentiles by pouring out the spirit (10:45), and who is exulted by the people (10:46). It is language about God which interprets the significance of the narrative at each key moment.
The consequence of this dramatic event is noted briefly: “they invited him to remain for some days” (10:48b). Table-fellowship with Gentiles and the breach of the food rules was considered to be the inevitable result of God’s actions (see also 11:15–18). Such hospitality continues to be one of the key markers of the church today. That is the good news which is declared by the Easter event, when we remember that “God raised Jesus from the dead” and we testify that “everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name”.
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In this blog I have developed themes, ideas, and analysis that I wrote in my commentary on Acts in the Eerdmans Commentary on the Bible, ed. Dunn and Rogerson (Eerdmans, 2003). I have also explored the theme of the plan of God throughout Luke and Acts in the doctoral research that I undertook in the 1980s, which was published in 1993 by Cambridge University Press as The plan of God in Luke-Acts (SNTSM 76).
The section from Acts which we hear this coming Sunday (Acts 16:16–34) recounts various incidents from the time that Paul spent in Philippi (16:11–40). Last week we heard of the decision to “cross over” from Asia Minor into Macedonia (16:6–8). This week, we learn of the interaction of Paul and Silas with a slave woman and her owners, resulting in their arrest and imprisonment—and subsequent interaction with the gaoler. It’s a section of acts filled with dramatic tension and entertaining scenes, even whilst it provided illumination about the mission undertaken in the early years after Jesus.
1 The demon-possessed slave woman (16:16–18) recognises Paul and his companions as “slaves of the most high God” (16:17), just as Jesus had been identified by demon-possessed characters as “the son of the most high God” (Luke 8:28; cf. 4:41). Their message is identified as the “way of salvation” (16:17), a phrase consistent with the terms already used to describe the movement and its message. (On “salvation”, see 2:21; 5:31; on “the Way”, see https://johntsquires.com/2022/04/26/people-of-the-way-acts-9-easter-3c/)
The subsequent casting-out of this spirit (16:18) reinforces the perception that Paul exercises the divine power, in the manner already shown by Jesus (Luke 4:41; 8:26–33), Peter (5:16) and Philip (8:7). However, it also precipitates the ensuing drama.
2 The arrest, trial and imprisonment of Paul and Silas (16:19–24) is a scene with drama aplenty, as the owners of the slave woman protest the actions of Paul and Silas (16:19) and accuse them of “disturbing our city … advocating customs that are not lawful for us as Romans to adopt or observe” (16:19–20).
The accusation against Paul and Silas (16:20–21) anticipates the later claim from the Thessalonican crowd, that they are “people who have been turning the world upside down … acting contrary to the decrees of the emperor, saying that there is another king named Jesus” (17:6–7), and reflects the claims of the crowd in Jerusalem, that Jesus was “perverting our nation, forbidding us to pay taxes to the emperor, and saying that he himself is the Messiah” (Luke 23:2). Social upheaval appears to have been integral to the proclamation of the good news of the kingdom!
The scene builds feverishly to the dramatic climax of their imprisonment by the local authorities, here identified as strategoi (16:20), the same term that is used on inscriptions from Philippi. Paul and Silas are placed in stocks “in the innermost cell” (16:24). This is the first imprisonment for Paul in Acts; others await him (20:23; 21:27–28). Such imprisonments are also referred to in Paul’s own letters (Phil 1:7,13–14; 2 Cor 11:23; Phlm 1,9–10,23; and see Col 4:3,10,18; 2 Tim 3:11).
In the course of this scene, a fleeting reference to Roman customs is made (16:21). The crowd believes that the Jewishness of Paul and Silas places them outside of Roman customs; that they are misguided will become evident when Paul and Silas are released (16:37–38). Until this point in the narrative, the only explicit reference to Rome has been at Pentecost (2:11). After this point, there will be no further such reference until the very end of this section (21:16), at the moment when Paul’s long journey to Rome comes into view.
In this Philippi scene, then, the Roman citizenship of Paul is established (16:37; see also 22:25–29). The opposition he encounters from this point onwards is thus to be seen in light of his Roman right of appeal to the Emperor. What is established as obvious for Luke and his readers will only become gradually apparent to Paul’s opponents in the narrative—in much the same way as the inexorable plan of God is worked out, scene by scene, in apparently disjointed ways which can eventually be seen within the overall plan of God.
3 Paul and Silas in prison (16:25–34) exhibit the typical attitude of praying (16:25; see 2:42). Suddenly “a great earthquake” shakes open the prison doors (16:26). The universal scope of the earthquake’s impact (“all the doors opened … everyone’s chains unfastened”) is striking, but perhaps a Lukan exaggeration (see 26:4). Although there is no explicit indication of divine guidance at this point, an earthquake was widely considered to be a portent of the divine will.
In Hebrew Scriptures, Psalmist expresses the common scriptural view that God was the initiator of earthquakes: “O God, you have rejected us … you have caused the land to quake, you have torn it open” (Ps 60:1–2; see also Judg 5:4–5; 2 Sam 22:8–16; Pss 18:7–9; 29:3–9; 68:7–8; 97:4–5; 104:32; 144:5-6; Isa 13:13; 29:4-6; 64:1-3; Jer 4:24; 10:10; Ezek 32:7; Joel 2:10–11; Nah 1:5–6; Zeph 1:14–15; Hag 2:6–7, 20–23; Zech 14:5).
In hellenistic literature, we find a similar view often expressed. The historian Dionysius of Halicarnassus articulates such a view, when he lists among “the terrible portents sent from the gods” such phenomena as “flashes shooting out of the sky and outbursts of fire … the rumblings of the earth and its continual tremblings” (Rom. Ant. 10.2.3; for descriptions of such portents, see Cicero, De div. 1.33.72-49.109, De nat. deor. 2.5.13-14; Minucius Felix, Oct. 7.1-6).
Indeed, the narrative of Acts has already reported how God can sovereignly release a person from prison (as with Peter in Jerusalem, 12:6–11). Although it is not described with explicit reference to God, the earthquake in Philippi is nevertheless a clear portent of divine providence.
The melodramatic response of the gaoler (16:27) enables Paul and Silas to speak the word of the Lord (16:32), explaining that what must be done to be saved is to “believe on the Lord Jesus” (16:31). The ensuing scene replicates familiar elements: the gaoler and his household were baptised (16:33; see 2:38), he set a table (16:34; see 2:42,46; also 10:23,48), and they rejoiced (16:34; see 5:41). His conversion now makes him “one who has come to belief in God” (16:34).
The section offered by the lectionary ends at 16:34, with the conversion of “the entire household” of the gaoler; but the story needs to be read and heard through to the end of the chapter, when Paul and Silas are released from prison and are able to continue their journey (16:39–40).
4 The release of Paul and Silas (16:35–40) actually takes place, not by divine intervention, but through the invocation of Paul’s Roman citizenship (16:37-38). Roman writers documented the prohibition against flogging a Roman citizen (Livy, Hist. 10.9.4; Cicero, Pro Rabiro 4.12-13). Paul’s mention of his Roman citizenship brings the police up with a start; they immediately hand him, and Silas, over to the magistrates, who immediately apologised for their actions (16:38–39).
The name Paul may well have been the Roman name adopted by the Jew, Saul of Tarsus. But he nowhere makes this claim in his letters, nor does Luke in his orderly account. How do we assess Paul’s claim to be a Roman citizen? He makes no reference to it in his letters—but there is no need for him to have done so in those contexts. Was it historical? Could it be yet another Lukan history-like claim that we cannot corroborate from any other source?
Certainly, Paul’s claim plays a strategic role in Luke’s narrative at two points (here, and in Jerusalem, 22:25–29), as it plants the seeds for Paul’s eventual journey to Rome. This scene (as also the scene in Jerusalem) is shaped by Luke’s rhetorical purposes, to put the spotlight on Paul as a positive role model.
After an official apology (16:39), Paul and Silas leave the prison, paying a parting visit to Lydia’s home where, in typical fashion, they exhorted the community members (16:40; see 13:15). Paul’s own description of his time in Philippi notes that he “had suffered and been shamefully mistreated” (1 Thess 2:2), but his letter to the Philippian believers rejoices in the fellowship that they shared with him (Phil 1:5,7; 4:14–16).
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This blog is based on a section of my commentary on Acts in the Eerdmans Commentary on the Bible, ed. Dunn and Rogerson (Eerdmans, 2003). I have also explored the theme of the plan of God at greater depth in my doctoral research, which was published in 1993 by Cambridge University Press as The plan of God in Luke-Acts (SNTSM 76).
In the reading from Acts offered by the lectionary this coming Sunday, we have a curious selection of verses (Acts 16:9–15). We start at verse 9, in the midst of a story (16:6–10) which recounts how Paul undertakes a highly significant geographical shift, moving from Asia Minor (Phrygia and Galatia, 16:9—that is, modern-day Turkey), across the northern Aegean Sea, into Macedonia (16:10—that is, modern-day Greece).
1 A call to cross over
The earlier verses not included in the lectionary (16:6—8) are important for setting the context of what follows. The move that takes place, from Troas, in Asia Minor, across to Macedonia, is highly significant. In these verses, there is a concentration of references to God, which demonstrate that this move is completely in accord with the plan of God. Paul’s separation from Barnabas and co-option of Timothy will continue his earlier work and will open up new avenues for fruitful work.
Three injunctions are given; each one is from a divine source. The first of these, an instruction not to speak in the southern region of Asia, comes from the holy spirit (16:6). The second direction, a prohibition against any attempt to head north and enter Bithynia, comes from the same spirit, here described as “the spirit of Jesus” (16:7).
The third divine interjection takes place at Troas, where a vision is seen in the night with a petition to “come across into Macedonia” (16:9). Being guided by the spirit and seeing visions are common occurrences in Acts. The nature of such phenomena has already been established as divine in origin (2:14-21); the move into Macedonia is thus in accord with the divine will.
This understanding is explicitly underscored as the transition ends with the succinct statement that “God has called us to preach the good news to them” (16:10). Events still to follow are thus introduced in as strong a manner as possible through the use of explicit language about God.
2 The ‘we sections’ of Acts
This statement (16:10) begins the first of the so-called ‘we-sections’ of Acts, which are narrated in the first person plural. Three of these are but brief notes concerning journeys (from Troas to Philippi, 16:10-17; from Troas to Miletus, 20:5-15; from Miletus to Jerusalem, 21:1-18). Each of these passages contain lists of the places visited and the means of travel (16:11-12; 20:5-6,13-15; 21:1-3,7-8,15) and small vignettes concerning one incident that took place on the journey (16:13-15; 20:7-12; 21:4-6, 10-14).
The fourth ‘we-section’ encompasses the extensive series of journeys by which Paul travels from Caesarea to Rome (27:1-28:16). It also includes mention of places and means of travel, as well as a number of particular incidents.
Scholarly opinion over the historical value of the ‘we sections’ is divided. Some have argued that there is evidence for an ancient literary convention, by which an author can alternate third person (“he”, “they”) and first person (“I”, “we”) narratives. In this view, Luke makes use of the first person narrative to strengthen the sense of unity felt between author and audience, and the characters in the events narrated.
However, others have criticised this claim and argued that the use of “we” indicates that these passages, at least, must go back to an eyewitness. The likelihood of ever being able to prove that the author of Acts was himself present with Paul in these journeys is low; at best, we might conclude that Luke had available to him a very brief source which may possibly have had its origins amongst Paul’s fellow travellers. (See also 20:5).
3 Paul in Philippi
The group crosses over into Macedonia, an ancient province of Greece which had been the dominant political power four centuries earlier. They arrive in Philippi (16:12), a city founded by Philip of Macedonia in 356 BCE, taken under Roman rule in 167 BCE, and declared a Roman colony (as Luke accurately notes) in 31 BCE. The group proceeds, in typical fashion, to find a place of worship on the sabbath (16:13)—not, as expected, a synagogue (see 13:5), but “a place of prayer” (16:13) for some women.
One of this number, Lydia, is singled out for attention. Lydia is a godfearer (16:14), as was Cornelius (10:2) and probably the Ethiopian (8:27). Lydia is the first individual convert identified once Paul, Silas and Timothy, under divine guidance, have crossed over into Macedonia (16:6-10). She presents a paradigm for the process of conversion and leadership; as the first convert in Europe, she models a faithful response to the message that Paul proclaims.
Lydia is one of a number of significant women in Acts who are presented as positive models of faithfulness. These include Tabitha of Joppa, who was raised from the dead (9:36–42); Priscilla, who with her husband, Aquila, teaches Apollos in Ephesus (18:26); and the four female prophets in Caesarea (21:9). Each of these women exercise a leadership role in the early church.
What takes place as Lydia encounters Paul is directly interpreted as an act of God, for “the Lord opened her heart” (16:14) to listen eagerly to Paul’s words. The “opening of her heart” (16:14) echoes the discoveries made by the archetypal disciples on the walk to Emmaus (Luke 24:31,32) and by the larger group of followers gathered in Jerusalem later that day (24:45). Her “eager listening” (16:14) repeats the response evoked by Philip in Samaria (8:6).
Lydia is judged as being “faithful to the Lord” and, with her household, is baptised (16:15), in accord with the programmatic declaration of Peter’s Pentecost exhortation (2:38-39). The baptism of her household follows the pattern already seen in Caesarea (10:24-48; 11:13-16) and foreshadows a pattern which will be repeated soon in Philippi (16:31-33), and subsequently in Corinth (18:8).
Her belief leads to the offer of hospitality (16:15), as was also the case with the Gentiles in Caesarea (10:48); this same pattern follows in the story of the conversion of the Philippian gaoler and his household (16:34). Belief, baptism and table fellowship have also been linked in the accounts of the conversion of Saul (9:18-19), Cornelius and his household (10:24-48) and the events on Pentecost in Jerusalem (2:41-47).
Lydia’s role as a patroness echoes that of Mary, the mother of John Mark, in Jerusalem (12:12) and prefigures that of Priscilla (with Aquila, 18:13). Paul will encounter, and convince, other women of relatively high social status later in Thessalonika (17:4) and Beroea (17:12). And women, often of high social status, figure also in the letters of Paul (Rom 16:1-2, 3-4, 6, 7, 12, 13, 14, 15; 1 Cor 1:11; Phil 4:2-3; and see Gal 3:27-28).
This blog is based on a section of my commentary on Acts in the Eerdmans Commentary on the Bible, ed. Dunn and Rogerson (Eerdmans, 2003). I have also explored the theme of the plan of God at greater depth in my doctoral research, which was published in 1993 by Cambridge University Press as The plan of God in Luke-Acts (SNTSM 76).
This coming Sunday, we hear a story about a meeting that takes place in Jerusalem (Acts 11:1–18). In my view, what takes place in this meeting should be called the First Jerusalem Council. Quite often, the event recounted in the narrative of Acts 15 is identified as the first council of the church in Jerusalem. But in my mind, it is this gathering in Acts 11 that should have the title.
The council is necessary because of doubts raised in Jerusalem about Peter’s activities in Caesarea—specifically, that “the Gentiles received the word of God” (11:1). During this gathering, an accusation against Peter is raised from within the assembly for the first time. The meeting comes to a point of view that supports the radical action that Peter has taken. It is a watershed moment in the life of the early church, that confirms the place of the Gentiles alongside the Jews.
An apology. Those of the circumcision are critical of what Peter has done (11:3). In reply, Peter’s speech in Jerusalem (11:4-17) has the nature of an apology—a defence of the faith—although Luke refrains from employing the technical term (apologia) until the apologetic speeches that he includes in hellenistic settings, where Paul makes his later defence speeches.
In the last section of Acts, after his arrest in the Jerusalem Temple (21:23), Paul delivers a series of apologies: to the tribune and a large crowd in Jerusalem (Acts 22); before the High Priest Ananias, his lawyer, Tertullus, and Governor Felix, in Caesarea (Acts 24); and then two years later, still in Caesarea, before King Agrippa, his consort, Bernice, and the Roman Governor, Festus (Acts 26).
The rhetorical forms used in apologetics were designed to meet a criticism with a strong counter-argument that would win the day. The form was developed amongst Jews in the hellenistic period—that is, after the troops of Alexander the Great had taken control of Israel in the year 333 BCE.
It was used to good effect by Jews such as the historians Artapanus, Aristobulus, and Josephus; ethical writers whose work survives in Pseudo-Phocylides, the Sybilline Oracles, and the Wisdom of Solomon; and the philosopher and exegete Philo of Alexandria. Such individuals were concerned about the influence that Hellenism was having on the forms and beliefs of their faith. They wrote apologies which provided a defence of their faith in the face of these various hellenistic influences.
So Peter here offers an apologetic speech, setting out his defence in response to criticism concerning his breach of the food rules (11:2). The criticism comes from those of the circumcision (11:2); the use of the same phrase by Paul at Gal 2:9 suggests that it is James who is behind the criticism. Such criticism requires an explanation “in order” (11:4; NRSV “step by step”), in line with the overall Lukan programme (Luke 1:3).
An explanation. Accordingly, Luke has Peter explain events in order by turning first of all to the vision he saw in Joppa, and recounting it almost verbatim (11:5-10; cf. 10:9-16). This repeated account retains the essential elements. The detailed description of the vision of the animals, reptiles and birds is repeated (11:5-6, par 10:11-12); a reference to “beasts of prey” is added at 11:6.
The command to “kill and eat” (11:7) parallels 10:13. Peter’s objection on the basis of the food laws (11:8, par 10:14) is modified so as to emphasise the food law requirements, placing them first in his response.
The insistence that he must accept “what God has cleansed” (11:9, par 10:15), and the note that this happened three times before being “drawn up again into heaven” (11:10, par 10:16) are then repeated exactly. This full repetition but slightly changed order highlights Peter’s vision as the primary one; by contrast, he truncates his reports of the visit of Cornelius’ messengers (11:11-12; cf. 10:17-29) and the vision to Cornelius (11:13; cf. 10:1-8), as well as his own speech in Caesarea (11:14; cf. 10:34-43) and the subsequent giving of the holy spirit (11:15; cf. 10:44-48).
The Spirit. Yet Peter’s speech is not simply a shortened summary of what Luke has already reported in Acts 10, for it offers an interpretation of these events which stresses that they took place under divine initiative. In reporting the arrival of messengers from Cornelius (11:11-12), Peter notes simply that “the spirit said to me to go with them without criticism” (11:12; cf. 10:19-20). His omission of many details (character traits, travel details, conversation and personnel; even, surprisingly, the name of Cornelius) places the focus on the role of the spirit.
Cornelius remains anonymous when Peter reports the vision he saw in similar fashion, with a stark summary of what the angel had told him (11:13). The substance of Peter’s speech in Caesarea is summarised as “words by which you and your household will be saved” (11:14); rather than the content of the speech, the emphasis here is on the fact that Peter was given these words to speak by the angel.
Peter’s version of the outpouring of the holy spirit is short on factual reporting, as it were; he simply states that the spirit fell on them (11:15). His report abounds in interpretation of the significance of the event, however. The earlier narrative of this event has already noted that the spirit was given as a gift (10:45); Peter now reinforces the divine source of this gift as that which God gave them (11:17; see 10:45).
This gift fulfils the prophetic word of Jesus, that “John baptised with water, but you will be baptised with holy spirit” (11:16, quoting 1:5; cf. the similar, but longer, saying of John at Luke 3:16). Twice Peter parallels this act of the spirit on “them” (Gentiles) with the events that happened to “us” (Jews) at Pentecost, when he notes that the spirit “fell on them just as on us at the beginning” (11:15), and when he states that “God gave them the same gift that he gave us who believe” (11:17).
The place of God. The motif of necessity concludes Peter’s speech, with the rhetorical question, “who was I that I could hinder God?” (11:17). Such a question is a reminder of Peter’s unquestioning and faithful attitude expressed at 4:19-20 and 5:29.
Peter thus validates the events in Caesarea through his use of language about God. The turn to the Gentiles is authorised by God working through an angel and the holy spirit, as well as by the inexorability of Peter’s response to God.
This understanding (which is entirely Lukan) is further reinforced by the concluding summary (11:18) which follows, in which language about God defines the significance of what has taken place.
Peter’s audience have moved from criticism (11:2) to silence, before they now “glorify God” (11:18), a believing response seen already in Jerusalem (4:21). Glorifying God will recur later in Antioch (13:48) and Jerusalem (21:20); it has appeared often in Luke’s Gospel, as a response to Jesus (Luke 2:20, 4:15, 5:25-26, 7:16, 13;13, 17:15, 18:43, 23:47). The words of the audience concisely express Luke’s understanding of the occasion: “Surely God gave repentance to life even to the Gentiles” (11:18).
God’s prominent role, as the one who sent the angel, gave the gift of the spirit, and enabled the Gentiles to repent, validates what has taken place. An inclusive community has been established; this will provide a key model for preaching in the Dispersion, and for the nature of the church in the decades—and centuries—to come.
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This blog is based on a section of my commentary on Acts in the Eerdmans Commentary on the Bible, ed. Dunn and Rogerson (Eerdmans, 2003). I have also explored the theme of the plan of God at greater depth in my doctoral research, which was published in 1993 by Cambridge University Press as The plan of God in Luke-Acts (SNTSM 76).
An Informed Faith 