Acts 23:5Meaning & Commentary from the Church Fathers

On the other hand, he did not wish to be despised by the tribune. If the tribune did not dare scourge him, but wished to hand him over to the Jews, then when the servants began to strike him, Paul showed still greater boldness.

He addressed not the servant, but the very one who gave the command. When he said, “You whitewashed wall! You sit to judge according to the law,” it was as though he said, “You are guilty and worthy of a thousand blows.”

See how the people were struck by his boldness. They ought to have stopped everything. Instead, they rage still more. He cites the words of the law, wishing to show that he spoke thus neither from fear nor because he was unworthy of such a command.

Rather, even in this he obeyed the law. I am fully persuaded that he did not know this was the high priest. He had returned here after a long absence, did not often associate with the Jews, and saw him among many others.

Among many other different men, the high priest could have gone unnoticed. By his very answer, it seems to me, Paul shows that he obeys the law, and therefore defends himself.

“Then,” it says, “Paul said to him, ‘God will strike you, you whitewashed wall.’” Behold his boldness. He convicts him of hypocrisy and lawlessness. Afterward he humbles himself.

The high priest, perplexed, does not dare say anything. But those standing by him could not endure Paul’s boldness. They saw him ready to go to death, and could not endure it.

“I did not know,” he says, “that he was the high priest.” Therefore the reproach arose from ignorance. If this were not so, the tribune would have taken him away and departed. He would not have kept silent, or he would have handed him over to them.

From this it is clear that he voluntarily endures everything he endures. He defends himself before them out of obedience to the law, not from a desire to show them his own dignity. Therefore he also reproached them sharply.

Thus he defends himself for the sake of the law, not for the sake of the people. And rightly so, for to strike an innocent man who has offered no insult is unlawful.

What he said is not an insult. Otherwise someone would call Christ’s words an insult when He says, “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites, for you are like whitewashed tombs” (Mt 23:27).

Yes, you say, if he had said this before suffering the blow, his words would not have come from anger, but from boldness. But I have shown the reason: he did not wish to be despised.

So Christ also often reproached the Jews when He was insulted, as when He said, “Do not think that I shall accuse you” (Jn 5:45). But this is not insult. God forbid.

See with what meekness Paul addresses them. “I did not know,” he says, “that he was the high priest.” Having said this, he did not stop. Wishing to show that he spoke without mockery, he adds, “You shall not speak evil of a ruler of your people” (cf. Ex 22:28).

Do you see how he still acknowledges him as ruler? Let us also learn his meekness, so that in both things we may be perfect.

Great care is needed in order to know what the first is and what the last is. Care is necessary because vices mingle with these virtues: rashness with boldness, and faintheartedness with meekness.

Each person must take heed lest, while giving himself over to vice, he ascribe virtue to himself. It would be like someone who had intercourse with a servant woman, but in ignorance imagined that he had intercourse with the mistress.

What then are meekness and faintheartedness? When we see others being insulted and do not defend them, but remain silent, this is faintheartedness. But when we ourselves receive insults and endure them, this is meekness.

What is boldness? Again, the same thing: when we fight on behalf of others. And what is rashness? When we try to avenge ourselves.

Thus magnanimity and boldness are on one side, while rashness and faintheartedness are on the other. He who does not spare himself will hardly fail to pity others. He who does not avenge himself will hardly leave others undefended.

When our disposition is free from passion, it is also capable of virtue. As the body, once freed from fever, grows strong in its powers, so the soul, if it is not given over to the passions, becomes strong.

Meekness is a sign of great strength. To be meek one must have a noble, courageous, and very lofty soul. Do you think it requires little strength of soul to receive insults and not be troubled?

One would not err in calling such a disposition toward neighbors even courage. Whoever has been strong enough to overcome this passion will certainly be able to overcome the other also.

There are two passions here: fear and anger. If you conquer anger, you will also conquer fear. You will conquer anger if you are meek. If you overcome fear, you will show courage.

Conversely, if you do not conquer anger, you will prove rash. And if you have not conquered it, you will not be able to conquer fear. Consequently, you will prove fainthearted.

It will be with you as with a body so weak and enfeebled that it cannot bear any labor. It is quickly exhausted by both cold and heat. Such is the property of an enfeebled body, while a strong body endures everything.

Again, prodigality mingles with magnanimity, which is a virtue. Thrift is also a virtue, but greed and miserliness mingle with it. Let us compare them with one another.

A prodigal man is not magnanimous. Why? Because one who is given over to a thousand passions, how can he be great in soul?

He is such not because he despises money, but because he submits to other passions. It is like a man forced by robbers to obey them. Such a man cannot be free.

Prodigality does not arise from contempt for money, but from not knowing how to manage it. If it were possible both to keep money and to indulge in pleasures, he would certainly desire this.

The one who uses money for what is needful is magnanimous. Truly great is the soul that does not serve passion slavishly and counts money as nothing.

Thrift likewise is a virtue. The very thrifty man would be one who uses money for what is needful, not simply and indiscriminately. Miserliness is not the same thing.

The thrifty man spends everything on what is needed. The miser does not touch his property even in the most urgent need. Thrift is the brother of magnanimity.

Thus let us place the magnanimous man together with the thrifty man, and the prodigal with the miser. The latter two both suffer from faintheartedness, while the former two are marked by magnanimity.

Indeed, we should call magnanimous not the one who spends money irrationally, but the one who uses it for what is needful. Likewise, we should call miserly and avaricious not the thrifty man, but the one who does not use money even for what is needful.

How much wealth did the rich man squander, clothed in purple and fine linen? Yet he was not magnanimous, because his soul was possessed by cruelty and a thousand desires. Can such a soul be great?

Abraham was magnanimous. He used his possessions for the reception of strangers, slaughtered calves, and, when it was necessary, spared not only his possessions, but even his own soul.

Therefore, if we see someone preparing a luxurious table and feeding prostitutes and parasites, let us not call him magnanimous, but very fainthearted.

See, indeed, how many masters he serves, and how slavishly he serves the passions: gluttony, unrestrained sensual pleasure, and self-indulgence. Can one possessed by so many passions, and unable to free himself from any of them, be called magnanimous?

Consequently, he must especially be called fainthearted when he spends much. The more he spends, the more he shows the dominion of the passions over him. If they did not have such power over him, he would not spend so much.

On the contrary, if we see someone who gives nothing to such people, but feeds the poor and helps the needy, while himself content with a table that is not luxurious, we must call him very magnanimous.

It truly belongs to a great soul not to think of its own pleasure, but to care for the peace of others. Tell me: if you saw someone despising all tyrants, counting their commands as nothing, and relieving those oppressed by them, would you not recognize this as a great deed?

This is exactly how we must reason here. The passions are tyrants. If we despise them, we shall become great. If we free others from them as well, we shall become greater still.

And this is just. He who does good not only to himself, but also to others, is higher than those who do neither.

If someone, to please a tyrant, began to strike one of his subjects, oppress another, and insult a third, would we call this magnanimity? By no means. And still less, the more important he was.

So it is here as well. We have a noble and free soul. The prodigal hands it over to the passions to be beaten. Shall we call magnanimous the man who tears himself to pieces? By no means.

Therefore let us remember what magnanimity and prodigality are, what thrift and miserliness are, what meekness and faintheartedness are, and what boldness and rashness are.

By distinguishing them from one another, we may pass through the present life pleasing the Lord, and be counted worthy of the future good things.

May this be by the grace and love for mankind of His Only-begotten Son. With Him be glory, dominion, and honor to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

They were spoken because of his unjust order to strike Paul on the mouth, and Paul did not know he was the high priest. But as soon as he learned this, he softened his speech. In excuse he said that he had spoken only through ignorance, knowing well that the Law requires respect for authority.

Perhaps he had heard the name as that of the high priest. At the assembly itself, he could only know that the man who ordered him struck on the mouth was the president of the Sanhedrin. Yet the president of the Sanhedrin did not have to be the high priest. And when the high priest was also president of the Sanhedrin, he came to court sessions in ordinary clothing, not in high-priestly vestments. Thus the Apostle did not necessarily have to conclude from Ananias' presidency that he was the high priest. Some interpreters, however, refuse to admit that the Apostle really did not know the high priest. They therefore understand his words ironically: 'His behavior, brethren, does not permit one even to think that he is God's high priest. If he is a high priest, he is not true and God's high priest, but one in name only. Were he a true high priest, I would not have allowed myself a sharp word against him, for it is written, You shall not speak evil of a ruler of your people.' The two interpretations may be joined. And the Apostle's words paraphrased thus: 'I did not know, brethren, and by his behavior I could not possibly think that he was God's high priest.'

But this was another high priest, who entered office long after Saul's conversion, about A.D. 48, when Paul was making his great journeys to the Gentiles. It is true that Paul had been in Jerusalem since then, more than once. Yet he still may not have known the Jewish high priest there personally. He may have had neither motives nor interest to know him personally. He could have heard his name and heard of his character and activity, yet not known him personally. He might also have failed to recognize him in the very meeting of the Sanhedrin. By clothing one could recognize the high priest only during the temple service. Here he was probably in ordinary clothing, by which he could not be distinguished from the others. Nor could the high priest necessarily be recognized by his presiding in the Sanhedrin. The Sanhedrin had the right to choose its own president. The Apostle could all the more fail to suppose that the president of this assembly was the high priest, since the meeting had been appointed by the humiliating order of a Roman military commander. Thus it could very well be that Paul did not know Ananias personally and did not recognize the high priest in the president. Since he himself speaks directly of this, and as though with apology, 'brethren,' it may be regarded as certain that he really did not know. 'For it is written' means: if I had known this was the high priest, I would not have said what I said. For it is written that one must not speak evil of a ruler of one's people (Ex 22:28, according to the LXX). Strictly speaking, there was no reviling in the Apostle's words to the high priest. But to others they could seem, and did seem, to be reviling. Therefore the Apostle adds this qualification, that he would not have said these words if he had known he was the high priest. Yet the wise Apostle does not take back what he said, since it was just.

It is worth noting that he who elsewhere says, When we are reviled, we bless; when persecuted, we endure (1 Cor 4:12), here seems to do the opposite. He not only rebukes, but also threatens. No, he did neither. Whoever examines carefully will see that these are words more of boldness than of anger. Besides this, he did not wish to be despised by the tribune. If the tribune had not dared to scourge him, then, when the servants began to strike him, he showed still greater boldness. He addressed not the servant, but the very one who had given the order. See how the assembly was struck by his boldness. They ought to have stopped everything, but they rage still more. He cites the words of the Law to show that he spoke thus neither from fear nor because he was unworthy of such an order. In this matter also, he obeyed the Law.'