And it came to pass, while Apollos was at Corinth, Paul, having passed through the upper districts, came to Ephesus, and finding certain disciples,
Paul reaches Ephesus while Apollos is away at Corinth. The first people he meets there are already called disciples — yet his opening question shows something is missing.
The route named here is about land, not sea. Older translations call it "the upper coasts."
By the upper coasts, or country, we should understand an inland route rather than a coast route. The coast was seen as lying on a lower level than the inland country. In line with this, some good authorities read that he came down to Ephesus, for the city stood on the river Cayster, a few miles from its mouth... A centre of trade, the seat of government, and a stronghold of idol worship — all this made it a place of no small importance.
The journey that ends at Ephesus began as a return trip to people he had already won.
He went over Galatia and Phrygia in order, strengthening all the disciples (Acts 18:23)... This time he reversed his route, going through Galatia before Phrygia, shaping his course, it seems, for Ephesus, which he had promised to visit (18:21). He had preached in both these provinces on his earlier journey, and he wanted first to revisit those places of work and to strengthen all the disciples.
Apollos is named in the same verse for a reason. These disciples had been shaped by his teaching.
So these converts matched their teacher Apollos completely. It is quite true that Apollos was later taught the way of God more accurately; but clearly his teaching had shaped the souls of his converts at the start. It is often so even now. The gospel first used in the conversion of souls goes far to set the character of their Christian life. The nature of the start often decides the whole of the believer's course, and so it matters greatly to preach a full gospel.
Paul calls them disciples and never challenges that. What he challenges is where their baptism had left them.
The apostle does not question the reality of their faith... So they were not even on the ground of Christian profession. As the apostle concluded, John's was "the baptism of repentance, telling the people to believe in the one who was to come after him, that is, Jesus." Christian baptism assumes that He is dead and risen, that the work of redemption is finished, and that eternal life and forgiveness of sins are proclaimed in His name. They were believers. The Holy Spirit had worked in their souls, so that the word of God had entered. But they were entirely without even the privileges that faith in the gospel receives at once.
Something in these men prompted the question. One writer suggests it was a lack of rest, not a lack of faith.
They had faith, they looked to His person; but they had not grasped His work for the peace of their souls... It is likely that he saw something which showed his keen eye that these souls were not at rest, not in the liberty of grace. In spirit they were still under the law.
Another writer states plainly what these men still lacked.
The people mentioned in these verses were believers, but they were not Christians. A Christian is a saint who has the Holy Spirit. True, every Christian is a saint, but he is something more; and that something is a very great deal more, for it is the Holy Spirit... They were disciples of John, and all John's disciples believed that Christ would baptize with the Holy Spirit. But they did not know that the promise had been fulfilled.
Commentators differ over how far this scene applies today. Some press Paul's question on the reader:
it shows that a man may be a believer, may be a child of God, may be converted, and yet may not have the Holy Spirit. They were disciples, and the apostle credits their belief, but still asks, "Did you receive the Holy Spirit when you believed?"
Others say the case does not carry over, because the message preached now is different:
This case gives no ground for saying that there are true believers on Christ today who have not received the Spirit at all. Christ is preached now, and not the baptism of John — that is, wherever the gospel is truly preached.
- Road — "the inland country" means a land route, not the coast. Paul came down to Ephesus, a city of trade, government and idol worship.
- Promise — he came by way of Galatia and Phrygia, strengthening earlier converts, and keeping his word to return.
- Start — these men matched their teacher Apollos. The gospel a soul hears first shapes much of what follows.
- Diagnosis — Paul owns their faith but questions their footing. John's baptism looked forward; Christian baptism rests on a Saviour dead and risen.
- Fullness — believers can be real and still be unsettled, short of what the gospel gives. Commentators differ on whether that gap can still happen today.
he said to them, Did ye receive [the] Holy Spirit when ye had believed? And they [said] to him, We did not even hear if [the] Holy Spirit was [come].
Paul arrives at Ephesus and meets about twelve people already called "disciples." He asks them whether they had received the Holy Spirit. Their reply opens two questions. What kind of believers were these? Does the Spirit come after faith?
One writer describes these men as caught between the old order and the new.
Another important fact opens Acts 19. Paul found at Ephesus a dozen disciples who were in a very ambiguous position. They were not exactly Jews, and they were certainly not Christians in the true sense: they were in a transition state between the two. Does this appear startling to you? It is likely to disturb those who are used to thinking, or at least saying, that everyone must be in one of the two states. They hold that a middle position between them is impossible. But that is not the fact. It is always good to face the word of God; and God has written nothing in vain.
Paul's question is not a challenge to their sincerity. The same writer separates the Spirit's work in giving new life from the Spirit given as a seal.
It is important to see what the inspired narrative makes clear here. These souls had been taught only in part. Paul found them at Ephesus after Apollos had gone to Corinth, and the narrative owns them as disciples. The apostle does not question the reality of their faith. He probably noticed a certain legalism in them, which raised the question not whether they were born of the Spirit, but whether they were sealed by Him.
Their reply sounds like total ignorance of God's Spirit. It was not. As followers of John the Baptist they knew what the prophets had said. What they lacked was news, not theology.
In Acts 19:2, Paul asks whether they had received the Holy Spirit since they believed. They answer that they have not yet heard whether the Holy Spirit has come. They were John's disciples, so they did not doubt that the Holy Spirit exists. Every thoughtful Jew acknowledged the Holy Spirit spoken of by the prophets. But they had not heard whether the Holy Spirit had come in power, as John 7 speaks of it, and as John the Baptist had said: He would baptise with the Holy Spirit.
Here the writers differ, and the difference turns on a single word. Some read Paul's question as proof that receiving the Spirit can follow believing as a distinct step.
The apostle no doubt noticed a certain unease in these "disciples." That led him to ask whether they had received the Holy Spirit since they believed. So there is — certainly there was in the apostle's mind — such a thing as receiving the Spirit after believing.
Others hold that the older wording misleads, and that the verse says the opposite. (The ESV follows this reading: "when you believed.")
The disciples Paul found at Ephesus were disciples of John. The question the apostle asked them has often been made the foundation of wrong teaching about the Holy Spirit. It is claimed that the Holy Spirit must be received in a special way after conversion. The little word "since" in Paul's question must be changed to "when," because it is mistranslated: "Did you receive the Holy Spirit when you believed?"
Behind the whole exchange lies a fixed order. The Spirit comes to live in people only on the ground of a finished work.
We must not suppose this is a question of miracles, or powers, or tongues, or anything of that kind. These very signs might follow too. The early Christians did work miracles, and they had the gift of tongues. But these were only the outward proof of the Holy Spirit. He had always worked whatever was for God's glory in man, yet He was never given in person to believers until after redemption... But can the Holy Spirit come and dwell in us? Only through redemption, when God has righteously put our sins and iniquities away from before His eye.
What they lacked traces back to a message no one had brought them.
They were truly "disciples," and they had believed as much of the facts about Christ as they had heard. The Holy Spirit is given to those who believe "the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation" (Eph. 1:13). They had not believed it, because they had not heard it, and so they had not received the Spirit. Like Apollos, they had only heard the earliest beginnings of things, connected with John the Baptist...
- Heard — they were not denying that the Spirit exists. They did not know that the promised coming had happened.
- Half-way — real disciples can still stand between two states, short of what faith in the full gospel brings.
- Hindrance — the missing piece was a message never preached to them, not a defect in their sincerity.
- How — commentators differ. Does Paul's question allow a gap after believing, or does it ask about the moment of believing? The wording "since" or "when" decides it.
- Hereafter — God gives the Spirit in person only on the ground of finished redemption. Tongues and prophecy were the outward proof, not the substance.
And he said, To what then were ye baptised? And they said, To the baptism of John.
At Ephesus, Paul first asked these disciples about the Holy Spirit. His second question goes further back: what had their baptism committed them to? Their answer — the baptism of John the Baptist — puts them at a stage God had already moved past, and it explains the rest of the chapter.
Paul does not ask how they were baptized, but to what.
Scripture gives no definite teaching about the way baptism is done. The great point is what those baptised were baptised to: compare Acts 19:3. The idea in the word is "washing," as with the priests of old (Ex. 29:4), rather than "sprinkling," as with the Levites.
Some translations read "into what," others "to what." One writer argues for "unto," and says what that shows about baptism itself.
The Greek preposition means "unto" (or "to") as often as "into." Which one it means depends on the context or on the nature of the case… So in Acts 19:3 it is "unto," as in the Authorised Version, not "into" as in the Revised. Baptism is the symbol of profession. Reality depends on faith; which might, or might not, be true of the baptised.
Their answer names a real work of God, but an unfinished one.
Twelve people had believed, but they had no teaching beyond John's: their baptism matched it. What they looked for was a Christ still to come, and a Holy Spirit whom He would give. John's baptism called for repentance, but it never went outside Judaism… It was a baptism to repentance for man on the earth, not to Christ's death and resurrection.
Are the two baptisms the same? Commentators say no, and they point to this chapter.
Scripture is plain that John's baptism is quite distinct from Christian baptism. Disciples who had been baptized with John's baptism had to be baptized to Christ when they received the full truth of the gospel (Acts 19)… Confessing a Messiah still to come is very different from confessing His death and resurrection, and this is the root of differences which carry weighty consequences.
The difference comes down to timing.
John also baptizes to death, in the baptism of repentance. Death is the wages of sin, and those he baptized confessed their sins as justly deserving death. But John could not yet baptize to Christ's death; for He had not died.
So what did they have, and what were they missing?
They were not therefore even on the ground of Christian profession, for, as the apostle concluded, John's was "a baptism of repentance"… Christian baptism supposes Him to be dead and risen, the work of redemption accomplished, with eternal life and forgiveness of sins proclaimed in His name. They were believers, and the Holy Spirit had worked in their souls so that the word of God had entered. Yet they fell wholly short of the privileges that faith in the gospel enjoys at once.
The same gap shows up in sincere people today.
How many rest on a promise and have no notion that anything has been accomplished! They agree, of course, that the Saviour has come. But of salvation come, and of God's righteousness revealed, they know nothing… "Am I His, or am I not?" is the question that keeps troubling them.
They did not stay where their baptism had left them.
You can see the state of their souls in this: they at once bowed to the new message, and "were baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus."… Paul then laid his hands upon them, and "the Holy Spirit came on them; and they spoke with tongues, and prophesied."… So these disciples passed off Jewish ground and became Christians. They were no longer in the flesh, but in the Spirit, because the Spirit of God now lived in them.
One writer warns against using this case to argue about believers today.
This case gives no ground for saying that there are true believers on Christ today who have not received the Spirit at all. Christ is what is preached now, not the baptism of John.
- The question: Paul asks not how they were baptized but to what. The object of baptism is the great point, and baptism is the symbol of profession.
- The answer: "John's baptism" placed them at repentance and a Christ still to come, not at His death and resurrection.
- The gap: they were real believers, yet not even on Christian ground. John could not baptize to a death that had not yet happened.
- The gospel: Christian baptism supposes Christ dead and risen. They bowed to that at once and were baptized in His name.
- The gift: the Spirit came on them, and they passed off Jewish ground onto Christian ground. Christ, not John, is what is preached now.
And Paul said, John indeed baptised [with] the baptism of repentance, saying to the people that they should believe on him that was coming after him, that is, on Jesus.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And when they heard that, they were baptised to the name of the Lord Jesus.
At Ephesus, Paul told a group of men that John the Baptist had pointed them forward to Jesus. They responded at once. The verse raises two questions. Why did men who were already baptized need baptizing again? And what does baptism "in the name of the Lord Jesus" commit a person to?
These men had believed, but their baptism showed how far short they stood. One writer draws the line:
This raised a further question: "Into what then were you baptized?" The answer was, "Into John's baptism." So they were not even standing on the ground of Christian profession. As the apostle concluded, John's was "a baptism of repentance, telling the people to believe in the one who was to come after him, that is, Jesus." Christian baptism assumes that He is dead and risen, that the work of redemption is finished, and that eternal life and forgiveness of sins are proclaimed in His name. They were believers, and the Holy Spirit had worked in their souls so that the word of God had entered; but they fell wholly short even of the privileges that faith in the gospel enjoys at once.
Commentators describe them differently. Kelly counts them as believers who lacked Christian privilege. Another writer says they did not yet know the Lord Jesus.
The second baptism proves the two were not the same thing:
It pointed to the end of the old order and to a new position. It was not the familiar routine that traditionalists would make of it. Scripture is just as plain that it is quite distinct from Christian baptism. Disciples who had been baptized with John's baptism had to be baptized to Christ when they received the full truth of the gospel (Acts 19)... Confessing a coming Messiah is very different from confessing His death and resurrection.
John's baptism looked for a Messiah to be welcomed, not killed:
John's baptism was so far from being a symbol of Christ's death that, as far as people received it, Christ would not be put to death at all, but received by faith. So (Acts 19) those who had received it had to be baptized over again.
One writer reads the phrase as baptism "unto the name." He explains it by comparing how Israel was baptized to Moses:
There can be little question that to be baptized unto Moses means bringing the people into association with Moses, under his authority. In the same way, baptism unto the name of the Lord Jesus brought people onto the ground where His authority was supreme. It brought them into the company of those who owned that authority... Its meaning is the absolute authority of Christ as Lord, and the responsibility of those who are baptized to confess it.
That authority reaches everything. It is why Jews, who already carried God's name through circumcision, still had to own Jesus as Lord:
The whole administration of the ways of God is in His hands. All ministry and power is there; God has made all authority and rule subject to Him. So Jews, who were already connected with the name of Jehovah by circumcision, had to own Him whom God had made Lord and Christ. "In the name of Jesus Christ," or "the Lord Jesus," connects baptism, I think, with the power and authority of that name. "Unto the name" would mean confessing His name as Lord, and this must be confessed and owned to the glory of God the Father.
The verse opens with hearing. Paul's word came first, and the men answered it:
Not knowing the Lord Jesus, they were ignorant of the Pentecostal gift of the Holy Spirit. The men believed the word of Paul, and showed the sincerity of their confession in that they were baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus.
Some read this passage as a pattern for believers now. Commentators resist that. What was missing here was John's message, not something missing in the gospel:
There is no ground in this case for saying that there are true believers on Christ today who have not received the Spirit at all; for it is Christ who is preached now, and not the baptism of John; that is, where the gospel is really preached.
- Heard — Paul preached Jesus as the One John pointed to. The men believed his word, and their baptism proved the hearing was real.
- Short — confessing a coming Messiah left them outside Christian ground. Christian baptism confesses a Christ already dead and risen, with forgiveness proclaimed in His name.
- Repeated — their second baptism settles it. John's baptism and Christian baptism are two different things, not one practice under two names.
- Unto — baptism unto the name puts a person under the supreme authority of Christ as Lord. That confession carries real responsibility.
- Today — the gap here was John's message, not the gospel. Where Christ is preached, no believer is left without the Spirit.
And Paul having laid [his] hands on them, the Holy Spirit came upon them, and they spoke with tongues and prophesied.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And all the men were about twelve.
A dozen men at Ephesus had gone as far as John the Baptist's preaching could take them. Luke gives their number only after the Spirit has come on them. Who were they, why does the number matter, and why does their case not set the pattern for believers since?
Their problem was not stubbornness or heresy. No one had told them more than John had said.
It was pure ignorance that held back their advance in truth — not stubbornness, and not the absurd and wicked error some have charged them with... In Scripture, John's baptism went with his call to repent, as we have just seen. It also went with the call to believe on the coming Messiah, that is, Jesus. It was in no way the blasphemy of accepting John as Messiah. They knew of promise, not of accomplishment: but that was to stop short of the gospel. They are now given to receive the full truth and blessing. Paul preached to them Jesus. What is there for souls which is not through Him and in Him?
The Spirit came at a definite point: when what they believed about Christ changed.
The Holy Spirit, however, would not come upon them while they believed only in a Christ who was still to come. Then they were baptised in the name of the Lord Jesus. They believed that He had come, that He was delivered for their offences and raised again for their justification, and that He was now glorified at the right hand of God. So He fell upon them, just as He had at the beginning upon those of their own people who believed in the same way.
Their ignorance pointed to something larger than their own experience.
John had announced that the baptism of the Holy Spirit would be the result of Christ's intervention. Yet these twelve men did not know whether there was yet any Holy Spirit. That was plain proof that they had not come into the house of God in which He dwelt.
Only the men are counted here, and that detail carries weight.
There were about twelve men here. The number of women is not mentioned, because the stress falls on the public side of things. This reminds us that whenever we read of the public giving of the Spirit, it was always to many people, never to an individual. Also, there was always an apostle present. The work had to go on in unity with the other assemblies: no assembly was to act on its own.
Ephesus was far outside Israel, and that raised a question.
Here now are Jews outside their own land. The Old Testament had never indicated that Jews would be blessed anywhere but in the land of promise. Could these then be publicly received as Christians by the gift of the Spirit? God gives the answer plainly when Paul baptizes them and lays his hands on them as an indication of fellowship. This is the fourth occasion of a public bestowing of the Spirit of God with such signs as speaking with tongues. Each of these occasions involves a different class of people: first Jews at Jerusalem (ch. 2), then Samaritans (ch. 8), then Gentiles (ch. 10), and in this case Jews outside their own land.
Some use this scene to argue that a believer today may be saved and still be without the Spirit.
There is no ground in this case for saying that there are true believers on Christ today who have not received the Spirit at all. The preaching now is Christ, not the baptism of John — that is, wherever the gospel is truly preached.
This small group became Paul's starting point in the city.
At Ephesus the apostle brings the little nucleus of disciples into full Christian truth and privilege (Acts 19). He carried on the work for more than two years, first in the synagogue, then in the school of Tyrannus. So not the capital only but the province also heard: everyone living in Asia heard the word of the Lord, both Jews and Greeks. And that word, with special powers worked by God through the hands of Paul, grew mightily and prevailed.
- Ignorance, not rebellion. They had stopped at John's preaching: promise without fulfilment. That falls short of the gospel.
- Christ preached. Paul preached Jesus to them. They believed He had come, died, risen, and was now glorified.
- Then the Spirit. He would not come while they waited for a Christ still to come. He came when they confessed the Christ already given.
- Publicly, together. The Spirit came here on a group, with an apostle present. It was never a private, independent experience.
- Twelve becomes Asia. From this little nucleus the word grew and prevailed until the whole province had heard.
And entering into the synagogue, he spoke boldly during three months, reasoning and persuading [the things] concerning the kingdom of God.
Paul's work in Ephesus starts in the synagogue, and he stays there three months. Two questions sit behind the verse. Why did he begin with the Jews? And what did he press on them when he spoke of God's kingdom?
Paul took his message to his own people before anyone else. One writer reads the three months as a matter of order and priority.
For three months he patiently preaches Christ in the synagogue and reasons with the Jews, sure of God's strength and of the truth. He gives first place, as the field of testimony, to the people who had been God's instrument: "To the Jews first." It is no longer said, "Salvation is of the Jews," but it is still preached to them first.
The subject he chose fitted the people in front of him. They already had the law and the prophets.
For three months he spoke boldly in the narrow setting of the synagogue. He argued and urged on them "the kingdom of God" (v. 8). Of all subjects it was the one best suited to searching Jews, who knew the law and the prophets. The godly, as we hear of Joseph of Arimathea, were looking for the kingdom of God (Luke 23:50-51). This involved his opening to them the sufferings of Christ and the glories after these. He never thought of belittling that kingdom, still less of denying it, because Christians now have higher possessions and richer grace in the great mystery about Christ and about the assembly (Eph. 5:32).
The phrase is about rule. One writer defines it by God's authority over His subjects, and links it with the gospel of grace.
The kingdom of God is the realm where the authority of God rules. This kingdom had to be set up even before the gospel of the grace of God was announced, which came after the death and resurrection of the Lord. Paul preached both (Acts 20:24-25). There are not two gospels. The kingdom speaks of the authority of God set over His subjects. The grace of God is vital too, for authority and grace complete one another.
That authority is not only future. Another writer shows what Paul's kingdom preaching meant for believers here and now.
Everywhere he preached the kingdom among the disciples. This clearly touches the present. No doubt he spoke of the kingdom God will set up in public view, when he spoke of things to come. But he also kept it before them that in receiving Christ as Lord they had already come under the authority of God. And he showed them what it meant, in daily life, to be subject to God's holy will.
Paul reasoned and persuaded as a teacher who could hold his ground in open discussion. His ministry in the word came first.
He was a teacher, and no ordinary one. He could take on both Jews and Greeks in discussion (Acts 19:8-10), and no one had yet beaten him in fair argument… In his ministry of the Word, Paul, as usual, brought the truth to his own people first, in the synagogue. There he spoke boldly for three months, reasoning and persuading them about the kingdom of God. The earlier work of Apollos must have given the Jews there some preparation, though the Apostle surely widened the teaching. He reasoned and persuaded with a fullness that Apollos likely did not have.
The bold speaking ran on until the hearers divided. Then Paul moved out.
At the end of that time he saw that his work there was finished. The remnant chosen by grace now stood out, and the rest were hardened. So he made the break complete. He left the synagogue and took the disciples with him, to continue his service in the school of Tyrannus — just as at Corinth he had left the synagogue for the house of Justus. This made it quite plain that God was not establishing a fresh group of enlightened believers among the Jews. He was establishing a new thing altogether, taking in both Jews and Gentiles.
- First — Paul gave the synagogue the first hearing. He gave first place to the people who had been God's instrument.
- Subject — his theme was the kingdom of God, the realm where God's authority rules. He preached it alongside grace, for the two belong together.
- Method — he reasoned and persuaded as a teacher who could meet both Jews and Greeks in argument.
- Patience — three months of bold speaking in a narrow setting. He opened the sufferings of Christ and the glories to follow, and never belittled the kingdom his hearers hoped for.
- Parting — when some believed and the rest hardened, his work there was done. The break made plain that God was forming something new out of Jews and Gentiles alike.
But when some were hardened and disbelieved, speaking evil of the way before the multitude, he left them and separated the disciples, reasoning daily in the school of Tyrannus.
Paul preached boldly in the Ephesian synagogue for three months. Then some of his hearers hardened against him. He did not stay to argue. He took the disciples with him and taught daily in a lecture hall.
The thing they slandered had a name. Outsiders gave it; Christians did not choose it.
The reader will find the unusual expression "the way" in Acts 9:2; 19:9, 23. We have translated it word for word from the Greek. We have no doubt it was a nickname given to Christianity, just as the world has always invented one for true godliness.
Yet the nickname fitted. What people saw was not just belief but a whole manner of living.
At that time, being a Christian meant more than believing on the Lord Jesus and enjoying peace with God — blessed though these things are. It was a way of life, and not in some parts of life only but in every part. The walk of the believers, alone and together, was so distinctive that people could see it as a particular "way."
Preaching had done its work in two directions at once. Staying longer would have gained nothing.
The truth preached in the synagogue had now brought out plainly those who received the love of it so that they might be saved. It brought out no less plainly those whose hard rejection of it led them to speak evil of the Way in front of the crowd. Staying longer could have served no good purpose. It would have led to bitter quarrelling and abuse from the opponents. To withdraw from them at this point was clearly of God. The synagogue was no longer a fitting place. A room large enough was owed, not only to the disciples, but to the testimony. So the apostle carried on his daily teaching in the school of a man who, as far as we can judge, taught rhetoric or philosophy.
Until now, Jewish believers had kept their place in the synagogue. Paul ended that, and only after long patience.
This led the apostle to the decisive step of leaving them and separating the disciples. A new era began. Until now the converts from among the Jews seem to have kept their place in the synagogue. But now the time had come when believers in Christ must stand apart from His enemies, and must be gathered together as the assembly. God had borne with His ancient people with much patience. Paul loved his own countrymen deeply, and he had gone in and out among them. He kept hoping against hope that their hearts would open to receive his message.
Paul left when the work in the synagogue was finished. The break also settled a question of identity.
For three months he reasoned with the Jews in the synagogue, persuading them of the gospel. At the end of that time he saw that his work there was finished. The remnant according to the election of grace was now clear, and the rest were hardened. So he made the break complete. He left the synagogue and took the disciples with him, to continue his service in the school of Tyrannus. At Corinth he had done the same, leaving the synagogue for the house of Justus. This made one thing quite plain. What God was establishing was not a fresh group of enlightened believers among the Jews. It was something entirely new, taking in both Jews and Gentiles.
The new meeting place had no religious status. The text tells us almost nothing about its owner.
The name is Greek, and nothing is said about Tyrannus being a disciple, so the Christians may have rented the "school," just as halls are rented today.
That was no loss.
So the place of testimony was of no importance: all the value, virtue, truth, grace, and glory we boast in is in the One preached.
The hostility that pushed Paul out made his audience larger.
The opposition in the synagogue really helped the work forward. Gentiles would no doubt come to the school more readily than to the synagogue. And Jews, if they wanted to learn, could just as easily listen to one of their own nation teaching there. This went on for about two years, so that, as the historian tells us, "all the residents of Asia heard the word of the Lord, both Jews and Greeks" (Acts 19:10).
- Rejection. Three months of bold preaching sorted the hearers. Some received the love of the truth. Some hardened and slandered "the Way" in public.
- Withdrawal. Paul left only after long patience. Staying would have bred bitter quarrelling. The move was of God.
- Separation. Paul drew the disciples out of their old ties. A new era began: believers now stood apart from those opposing Christ.
- Something new. God was not improving a group inside the synagogue. He was forming something new, holding Jews and Gentiles together.
- Reach. Two years of daily teaching in a rented hall carried the word to all Asia. The opposition widened the hearing it meant to stop.
And this took place for two years, so that all that inhabited Asia heard the word of the Lord, both Jews and Greeks.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And God wrought no ordinary miracles by the hands of Paul,
In Ephesus, magic, demon-possession and the worship of Diana were at home. Here God chose to display His power through Paul as He did nowhere else. The verse raises two questions at once: why such unusual works, and what they were meant to prove.
The verse is careful about who did the miracles. One writer notes the phrase "by the hands of" and compares it with the same wording used earlier of Peter and the others:
"God was doing extraordinary miracles ('no ordinary miracles') by the hands of Paul." Compare this with the account of the Spirit's extraordinary energy flowing out through Peter and the other apostles in Acts 5. Note that there, as in Ephesus, the same phrase appears — "by the hands of the apostles." Whoever the servant, he was only the instrument or channel of the divine power.
The strength of the display matched the strength of the opposition. Ephesus was not neutral ground:
What characterizes the whole account of Ephesus as we have it here is the uniqueness of power shown. It is at the very seat of the enemy's power. You see this in the notorious idolatry there — the worship of Artemis or Diana, in her image that fell down from heaven — and in the demon-possessions, sorcery and magic that filled the place. For this very reason God had to put His power forth in a decisive way.
The next verse names what was used. One commentator sees meaning in the objects themselves — the cloths of hard work:
The power of God is now shown in an extraordinary way in connection with Paul, the minister of this new and heavenly grace. Napkins (or sweat-cloths) and aprons from his skin — both signs of a toil that sin has made necessary — not only healed disease but drove demons out of those who had them. So has love's labour worked through Him who came under the penalty of sin to heal spiritual disease and destroy the power of Satan.
Healing at a distance was the striking feature here:
This did not happen only when the apostle was present or when he spoke. What had touched him still worked for the sick who could not come to him. The faith that carried handkerchiefs or aprons from him to them had its reward: the diseases left them, and evil spirits (a distinct class) went out.
These works were not an end in themselves. They pointed to a victory already won and a kingdom still to come:
These works attested the kind power of God in man and for man. Later that power will triumph in the kingdom, where all things will be put into the hands of the glorified Son of Man... They were testimonies to His defeat of the devil in man's favour, powers of the world to come — though of course only samples of what will then be universal. Neither the church nor any individual saint has had ground to boast about this through the long centuries since.
One writer links this display to a promise the Lord made about greater works:
He certainly was a vessel to carry the knowledge of grace, and just as surely a vessel that displayed divine power... Ephesus had never seen such miracles before, and nowhere else were greater ones done. The Lord's words, "Greater works than these will he do, because I am going to the Father" (John 14:12), had abundant fulfilment through Paul as well as Peter.
This was exceptional, not a pattern to copy. One writer notes that the episode stands alone:
This is so unusual that it is the only case of its kind recorded in Scripture. Many people were healed before this by simply touching the edge of the Lord Jesus' garment. Certain would-be healers have tried to imitate this, but this is not faith.
Another observes the direction such gifts faced, and the plain fact that Paul did not always heal:
Gifts of healing showed that the gospel of God was not words only, wonderful as they were, but active love to men. Handkerchiefs from Paul's body healed the sick in Ephesus, as a witness alongside the word that all Asia heard. Yet Paul left Trophimus, himself an Ephesian, sick at Miletus — and that was while he was begging Timothy to come to him... such gifts pointed outward, to the world.
- Source — God did the work; Paul's hands were only the channel, as with Peter in Acts 5.
- Setting — Ephesus was the seat of idolatry, magic and demons. So God acted decisively.
- Sign — work cloths and aprons carried healing to the sick who could not reach Paul.
- Substance — the miracles were samples of the world to come. They witnessed to Christ's defeat of Satan for man.
- Scope — such works faced outward to the world. They stand alone in Scripture, and even Paul left Trophimus sick.
so that even napkins or aprons were brought from his body [and put] upon the sick, and the diseases left them, and the wicked spirits went out.
In Ephesus God worked through cloths carried from Paul's body to the sick. The verse raises two questions: why such an odd method, and what these healings proved.
Verse 11 calls these "extraordinary miracles." One writer shows how rare they were even in the Bible, and warns against copying them.
At this time in Ephesus God backed His Word by working special miracles through Paul. People brought napkins and aprons that had touched him to the sick, and that contact alone healed them. Some also had evil spirits driven out. This is so unusual that it is the only case of this kind recorded in Scripture. Many were healed before this by only touching the hem of the garment of the Lord Jesus (Matthew 14:36). Certain would-be healers have attempted to imitate this, but this is not faith.
One writer compares this moment with an earlier one in Acts, where the same wording appears.
"God was doing extraordinary miracles by the hands of Paul." It is worth comparing this with the account of the extraordinary energy of the Spirit flowing out through Peter and the other apostles in Acts 5 (verses 12, 16). There, as in Ephesus, we find the same phrase — "by the hands of the apostles" — showing that, whoever the servant, he was only the instrument or channel of the divine power.
The two items named are not religious objects. They are the cloths of a man at work, and one writer finds meaning in that.
God now shows His power in an extraordinary way through Paul, the minister of this new and heavenly grace. Napkins (or sweat-cloths) and aprons from his skin not only healed disease but drove demons out of the people who had them. Both cloths are signs of the toil that sin has made necessary. So has love's labour worked through Him who came under the penalty of sin to heal spiritual disease and destroy the power of Satan.
These healings settled a question about Paul himself. In a city that had never seen the like, God put His signature on His servant's work.
God attested the apostle in a special and generous way. All who were willing to see could see that God owned Paul as a servant of the God of heaven. He certainly was a vessel to carry the knowledge of grace; he was just as surely a vessel that displayed divine power... Ephesus had never seen such miracles, and nowhere else had they been greater. The Lord's words, "Greater works than these will he do, because I am going to the Father" (John 14:12), had abundant fulfilment through Paul as well as Peter.
The healings pointed forward. Both sickness and evil spirits gave way. That tells us who has already won.
In this way God attested His kind, beneficial power in man and for man. In time to come it will triumph in the kingdom, where God will put all things into the hands of the glorified Son of Man... Meanwhile the Spirit is here on earth to bear witness of Him and of the victory He achieved in righteousness over Satan. This is the principle behind those early displays of divine energy in man. They were testimonies to His defeat of the devil in man's favour. They were powers of the world to come — only samples, of course, of what will then be everywhere.
The same apostle whose handkerchiefs cured strangers later left a sick friend behind. That tells us who these gifts were for.
God did not forget bodies: gifts of healing showed that the gospel of God was not words only, blessed as they were, but active love to men. So handkerchiefs from Paul's body healed the sick Ephesians (Acts 19:12), a witness alongside the word which all Asia heard. Yet Paul left Trophimus, himself an Ephesian, sick at Miletus (2 Timothy 4:20) — and that while he was begging Timothy to come to him. Some in the Church were healed, as Dorcas was; but the aspect of such gifts was toward the world.
Another writer presses the point further: the power was never Paul's to spend as he pleased.
The servant never chose when to use this gift or gifts like it. God showed them only at the fitting time, and they could only work effectively by His immediate will. Power is His, and always in His hands.
- Source. The power came from God. The hands were Paul's, but he was only the channel.
- Sign. The cloths were a working man's sweat-rag and apron — signs of toil, turned into tools of healing.
- Seal. These uncommon miracles stamped Paul as God's true servant in a city that had never seen the like.
- Scope. These gifts faced the world. They backed the word all Asia heard. They were not a private benefit for believers — Paul left Trophimus sick.
- Sample. They were foretastes of the coming kingdom and proof that Satan is beaten. God alone decides when such power works, so copying the method is not faith.
And certain of the Jewish exorcists also, who went about, took in hand to call upon those who had wicked spirits the name of the Lord Jesus, saying, I adjure you by Jesus, whom Paul preaches.
God had worked unusual miracles through Paul at Ephesus. Men who made a living from evil spirits noticed the power in the name he used. This verse shows a group trying to borrow that name second-hand — and it raises the question of who may use it at all.
Casting out demons was already a trade in that city. One writer describes how it was done, and what made Paul different.
These displays of miraculous power brought the question of exorcisms to the front. The marked effect of Paul's miracles led to attempts to rival and equal them in casting out demons. Among the heathen there were those who claimed to drive out demons; among the Jews there were some who really did it... At Ephesus, it seems, there were such people. Luke calls them wandering Jews. Among them were sons of a Jew named Sceva, who did this work. No doubt they used old, well-known formulas thought suitable for the purpose. But now people saw something else. Paul used none of the prescribed charms. He drove out demons simply in the name of the Lord Jesus. This was something quite new at Ephesus.
Older translations call these men "vagabond" Jews, where the ESV says "itinerant." A reference work explains the older word.
A term not used as an insult in Scripture, but meaning a "wanderer"... In Acts 19:13 the Revised Version has "strolling."
When God works, opposition often comes as copying rather than open attack. One writer links this moment to Egypt.
When God works, the enemy is watchful. He tries to spoil what God is doing. Yet his interference often ends in his own confusion. The magicians of Egypt tried to copy the divine power Moses displayed. They failed to create life, and that exposed them. Here the Jewish exorcists "undertook to invoke the name of the Lord Jesus over those who had evil spirits." They had no living link with Jesus, and could only speak of Him as "Jesus whom Paul preaches."
Their own formula betrays them. They anchor the name not to their own faith but to another man's preaching — and one commentator points out what is missing from the title they use.
The seven sons of Sceva thought that they too might cast out demons by using the name of the Lord Jesus. But they did not know Him. He was not really Lord to them, and so they could only speak of Him as "Jesus whom Paul preaches," leaving out His title as Lord.
The same writer who described the local exorcism trade draws out what would have been needed for the name to work in their mouths.
Anyone who would use it with effect, however, needed two things. These men had neither. The one was genuine saving faith in Christ; the other a true confession of His Lordship. No one can use that name in conflict with demons unless he is a real believer and confessor of the Lord Jesus Christ. Now the language of these men betrayed where they were and what they were... And the very way they spoke of Him, simply as Jesus, with no title of honour, showed plainly that they did not own Him as Lord.
Why did they think this would work? One writer explains their reasoning.
These exorcists were used to charms and spells that anyone who knew them could use with effect. So they supposed that Paul was introducing a new charm, and that others could use it too. For the name of the Lord Jesus, when Paul used it, had a power that plainly no demon had resisted.
The Lord's answer showed that the name is no charm.
Here the Lord showed His displeasure at those who did not own Him, yet tried to use the apostle's action in His name as a charm — a formula they assumed divine power must follow... They called the name of the Lord over people, and it was all in vain. Their daring to command "by Jesus whom Paul preaches" only brought out three things more clearly: the Lord's defence of His servant, their own powerlessness, and the reality of the enemy's power.
This failure is not just an old story. One writer turns it on preachers today.
There were seven of them, and they used the name of Jesus as the apostle had done. Even so, the demons exposed their deceit, and they had to flee in confusion (Acts 19:13-16). Could preachers today fall into the same error as these "vagabond Jews"? They may think that simply retelling the facts of the gospel, eloquently or not, is enough to save the soul. The failure of such men will be a striking parallel to that of the exorcists.
- Borrowed. These wandering exorcists had no living link with Jesus. They knew His name only second-hand, as the name Paul preached.
- Imitated. As the magicians of Egypt copied Moses, the enemy answers a work of God by copying it — and ends in his own confusion.
- Untitled. They spoke of Him simply as Jesus, with no title of honour. That showed they did not own Him as Lord.
- Required. Two things were missing — genuine saving faith in Christ, and a true confession of His Lordship. Without both, no one can use that name against demons.
- Vindicated. Treating the name as a charm left them powerless and brought out the Lord's defence of His true servant. Preachers who only retell the facts risk the same exposure.
And there were certain [men], seven sons of Sceva, Jewish high priest, who were doing this.
Ephesus was famous for magic. Paul cast out demons there in the name of the Lord Jesus, and others wanted his secret. Verse 14 names the men who tried to borrow it. They were seven sons of Sceva, a Jewish high priest — men with rank in religion and no personal link to the One whose name they used.
The trade these men practised already existed. What was new in Ephesus was a name that worked without any formula attached to it.
At Ephesus, it seems, there were such people — wandering Jews, as Luke describes them. Among them were sons of one Sceva, a Jew, who did this. No doubt they used some old and recognised formulas thought suitable for that purpose. But now people saw Paul cast out demons in the name of the Lord Jesus alone, without any of the prescribed charms. This was something quite new at Ephesus. Everyone had to admit that the name worked. These exorcists were used to charms that anyone who knew them could use with effect. So they supposed that Paul was bringing in a new charm, one that others could turn to as well.
Being sons of a chief priest gave these men a platform. It gave them no power, and it made their collapse public.
Here the Lord showed His displeasure at these men. They did not own Him, yet they tried to use the apostle's action in His name as a charm — as if divine power had to follow it. Seven took part in a general way, two (it seems) directly, and the blow fell on those two. Their position too, as sons of a Jewish chief priest, drew all the more attention to so solemn a defeat.
Their own words gave them away. They spoke of Jesus as somebody else's subject matter, and they never gave Him His title.
But anyone who used that name with effect needed two things. These men had neither. One was genuine saving faith in Christ; the other, a true confession of His Lordship... "Jesus whom Paul proclaims." True, Paul did preach the Lord Jesus, for he believed on Him. But there is not a word here of any acknowledgment on their part that they also believed on the Lord Jesus Christ. And the way they spoke of Him showed that they did not own Him as Lord. They said only "Jesus," with no title of honour.
The Lord Himself set the limit on who may use His name in conflict with evil powers.
A Jew at Ephesus, a chief of the priests, whose seven sons sought by the name of Jesus to cast out a demon. The demon admitted that he knew Jesus and Paul, but demanded, "Who are you?" He then attacked them through the man he held, and they fled away naked and wounded. Here Satan showed his power as the "strong man." The One stronger than he would not let these men use His power.
The same danger has a modern form. A man can repeat true things about Christ and still stand where these seven stood.
Could preachers today fall into the same error as these wandering Jews? They may think that a mere retelling of the facts of the gospel, polished or not, is enough to save the soul. The failure of such will be a striking parallel to that of the exorcists.
The story does not end with their defeat.
The intrusion of the sons of Sceva brought about their own defeat. But the Lord turned it to His own glory, for the matter "became known to all the residents of Ephesus, both Jews and Greeks. And fear fell upon them all, and the name of the Lord Jesus was extolled." Many who believed unburdened their hearts by confessing their deeds and the name of the Lord. This stronghold of Satan must have been shaken to its foundations when "a number of those who had practiced magic arts brought their books together and burned them in the sight of all." Such was the triumph of the gospel: "So the word of the Lord continued to increase and prevail mightily."
- Credentials. Seven sons of a Jewish high priest had religion, rank and a trade in exorcism — and none of it gave them authority over an evil spirit.
- Copy. Their move was imitation. They took the name of Jesus for a new charm, one that anyone who knew it could use.
- Confession. They lacked real faith in Christ and never owned Him as Lord. "Jesus whom Paul proclaims" was a borrowed phrase, not their own confession.
- Collapse. The stronger One would not let men who did not know Him use His power. The two who faced the demon fled the house naked and wounded.
- Consequence. God turned their defeat into glory for Christ. Fear fell on the city, the name of the Lord Jesus was extolled, magic books went into the fire, and the word of the Lord kept spreading.
But the wicked spirit answering said to them, Jesus I know, and Paul I am acquainted with; but *ye*, who are ye?
Paul's preaching at Ephesus carried real power over evil spirits, and others wanted the same results without the same faith. Jewish exorcists there borrowed the name of Jesus as a formula. The spirit answered them with a question that exposed everything they lacked.
The enemy's opposition here took the form of copying, as it did in Egypt:
When God works, the enemy is watchful, and tries to spoil what God is doing, yet his interference often ends in his own confusion. The magicians of Egypt tried to imitate the divine power displayed by Moses, only to be exposed when they failed to create life. Here, the Jewish exorcists tried to use the name of the Lord Jesus over people who had evil spirits. They had no living link with Jesus, and could only speak of Him as "Jesus whom Paul preaches."
The spirit's reply is not one claim repeated. In the original there are two separate verbs, and the choice is deliberate:
The demon spoke, refusing to do what they demanded. His words must have struck all who heard them: "Jesus I know, and Paul I know (or, am acquainted with), but you, who are you?" The demon knew Jesus, he said. By his language he meant to distinguish between the Lord and His servant Paul. The second verb translated "I know" in the older English version is different from the first in the original. So that name was not a charm which just anyone could use.
Two things were missing, and their own words showed it:
Two conditions were needed for anyone to use it with effect. Both were lacking in these men. One was genuine saving faith in Christ; the other, a true confession of His Lordship. No one can use that name against demons unless he really believes in the Lord Jesus Christ and confesses Him... "I adjure you by Jesus whom Paul preaches," was their word to the evil spirits. "Whom Paul preaches." True, Paul did preach the Lord Jesus, for he believed on Him. But there is not a word here that they also believed on the Lord Jesus Christ. And the very way they spoke of Him, simply as Jesus, without giving Him a title of honour, clearly showed that they did not own Him as Lord.
Recognition did not run both ways:
The demon at once showed that he did not know them, and he was not deceived by their second-hand use of the name of Jesus.
The failure was not a technical mistake. The Lord Himself refused to let His name serve as a charm for anyone who wanted power:
Here the Lord showed how He resented those who tried to use the apostle's action in His name as a charm, without owning Him. They acted as if divine power had to attach itself to that name... Their daring to command the spirits "by Jesus whom Paul preaches" only showed three things more plainly: He stood by His servant, they themselves were helpless, and the enemy's power was real. For the wicked spirit declared at once that he was acquainted with Paul and knew his Master. He spoke with withering contempt for the hollow profanity of those who abused His name. He also gave the most practical proof of it. The evil power could trample them down and shame them, instead of handing a victory to such unholy lips.
The demon's knowledge was accurate and useless. Writers note the same of evil spirits generally:
A real faith is in view here — certainty of knowledge and conviction — the kind the devils have about the oneness of God. They do not doubt it; but there is no link at all between their heart and God through a new nature — far from it.
Public humiliation of the imitators turned into public honour for Christ:
The moral impression of this defeat was great on everyone outside in Ephesus. And it was not only that fear fell on them all; the name of the Lord Jesus was magnified. It was not simply that God and the enemy were brought before men's consciences; there was a testimony to the Deliverer also.
- Imitation. The enemy answers real power with a copy of it; like the magicians of Egypt, the copy runs until it breaks down.
- Recognition. The spirit's two verbs marked off the Master he knew from the servant he knew about — and left the imitators unknown.
- Omission. They said "Jesus," never "Lord." They spoke of a Christ Paul preached, not one they believed in. Their words showed what they lacked.
- Refusal. Christ will not let His name work as a charm for those who do not own Him; the failure was His vindication of His servant.
- Magnification. The exposure ended in more than fear across Ephesus: it magnified the name of the Lord Jesus.
And the man in whom the wicked spirit was leaped upon them, and having mastered both, prevailed against them, so that they fled out of that house naked and wounded.
Ephesus was full of magic, and some travelling Jewish exorcists tried to use the name Paul preached. Why did that name work in Paul's mouth and wreck them in theirs?
The account names seven sons of Sceva. The ESV says the man "mastered all of them," but older translations read "both of them."
In Acts 19:16 it is "both of them" — not the seven, but two of them. "Both" is easily turned into "all," but not the other way round.
William Kelly reads the beating as an answer from the Lord, not an accident.
Here the Lord showed His anger against men who did not own Him, yet tried to use the apostle's action in His name as a charm that God's power was bound to follow. Seven were involved in a general way; two, it seems, were involved directly, and the blow fell on them. They were sons of a Jewish chief priest, and that drew all the more attention to so solemn a defeat.
Their reasoning was simple: if the name works for Paul, it will work for us. Two things were missing.
But two things were needed before anyone could use that name with effect, and these men had neither. The first was real saving faith in Christ. The second was a true confession of His Lordship. No one can use that name against demons unless he truly believes in the Lord Jesus Christ and confesses Him... And the way they spoke of Him — simply as Jesus, with no title of honour — showed plainly that they did not own Him as Lord.
Their own words gave them away. They called Him "Jesus whom Paul proclaims" — not their own Lord.
Notice that the apostle used the name of One he knew, and whose lordship he never doubted. The exorcists were only imitators. They said, "We adjure you by Jesus whom Paul proclaims" — One they knew nothing about for themselves.
The verse says the man leaped on them, though the power was not his own. William Kelly sets that against the way the Spirit of God works in believers.
Notice how the evil spirit makes himself one with the man he controls. In His grace the Spirit of God works in the same close way: He lives in believers and makes them vessels to magnify the name of Jesus. He is the One who does all that is good, yet it is all mixed with their own minds and affections, so that the whole is put down to them... It was the man's own act, though he could never have done it except by that terrible power.
This attack shows what a demon can do to a body.
The demons were also strong, as we see from the way they handled the people they controlled, and from one of them overcoming seven men and making them flee out of the house naked and wounded.
That strength still has a limit.
Here Satan showed his power as the 'strong man.' But the One stronger than he would not let these men use His power.
Satan's attack on Paul's work backfired.
This plot was defeated. Satan's agents were put to shame by the very evil spirit they were trying to drive out. The result was to advance the gospel in three ways. First, the news of what had happened to the sons of Sceva spread through the city; fear fell on both Jews and Greeks, and the name of the Lord Jesus was magnified. Next, those who believed were so moved that they cut themselves off completely from their old magical practices, and some brought their costly books of magic and burned them in front of everyone. Last, we are told, "the word of the Lord continued to increase and prevail mightily."
The same danger reaches the pulpit today.
Is it not possible for preachers today to fall into the same error as these wandering Jews? They may think that simply telling the facts of the gospel, in fine words or plain ones, is enough to save the soul. Anyone who does will fail as strikingly as the exorcists did.
- Borrowed — They used a name they had never believed in: "Jesus whom Paul proclaims." Borrowed authority is no authority.
- Bare — They had no faith in Christ and no confession of His Lordship. The demon exposed the gap, and they fled stripped and hurt.
- Beaten — The strong man's power was real, and it crushed them. But the Stronger One refused to let His name work as a charm.
- Broadcast — The whole city heard. Fear fell on Jews and Greeks alike, and the name of Jesus was magnified.
- Burned — Believers destroyed their magic books, and the word of God grew and prevailed. Satan's counterfeit ended by advancing the gospel.
And this became known to all, both Jews and Greeks, who inhabited Ephesus, and fear fell upon all of them, and the name of the Lord Jesus was magnified.
The scene is Ephesus, a city famous for magic. Seven men had just tried to use the name of Jesus as a magic formula, and the evil spirit they spoke to turned on them and beat them. News of that failure ran through the city. It produced two things at once: fear on everyone, and honour for the name they had abused.
The failure of these intruders did not damage the work at Ephesus. It advanced it.
The intrusion of the sons of Sceva not only brought about their own defeat, but the Lord turned it to His own glory... Many who believed opened their hearts and confessed their deeds and the name of the Lord. This stronghold of Satan must have been shaken to its foundations when many who had practised magic arts brought their books together and burned them in front of everyone. Such was the triumph of the gospel.
One writer names two things these men lacked.
Was that name, then, just a charm, only more powerful than other charms in use in the province of Asia?... Two conditions, however, were required for anyone to use it with effect. Both of them were lacking in these men. The one was genuine saving faith in Christ; the other a true confession of His Lordship... The very way they spoke of Him, simply as Jesus, without giving Him a title of honour, clearly showed that they did not own Him as Lord.
The same mistake can be made without any magic at all. Repeating true words is not the same as knowing the One they name.
Is it not possible for preachers today to fall into the same error as these wandering Jews? They may think that simply reciting the facts of the gospel, whether eloquent or plain, is enough to save the soul. Such preachers will fail, in a striking parallel to the exorcists.
That fear reached the whole city, and it also reached the believers in it.
News of these things soon reached both Jews and Greeks who lived at Ephesus. It awakened a serious fear of God, as they recognised the holiness of the name of the Lord Jesus. It made believers realise that faith in Christ was no light matter. Ephesus was a famous centre of magic arts, and this no doubt had attracted the sons of Sceva.
The ESV says the name was extolled; other translations say magnified. One writer shows how far that reaches.
In Acts 19:17 the name of the Lord was magnified in Ephesus: it was shown to be great and mighty. And Christ may still be magnified today, in the body of the humblest and weakest believer, for His strength is made perfect in weakness. Christ may be magnified with praise, prayer, and witness to Himself... Yes, Christ may be magnified even in our daily work in the house, or shop, or office, or the care of the children.
That defeat did more than frighten the city.
The moral impression of this defeat was great on all outside in Ephesus. It was not only that fear fell on them all, but the name of the Lord Jesus was magnified. This did not simply set God and the enemy before men's consciences. There was a testimony to the Deliverer as well.
The fear outside the church produced honesty inside it.
It was the word of the Lord that grew so powerfully and prevailed... How precious to see more than the fear of His name overawing Jews and Greeks! Those who believed were so eager for His glory that they told out their own shame and worst degradation now that they were converted. They took vengeance on everything they owned, however costly, that carried the mark of the enemy's power and schemes.
- Exposed — the exorcists failed in public. Their own words gave them away: they spoke of Jesus with no title of honour, and never owned Him as Lord.
- Feared — the report reached Jews and Greeks alike. It awakened a serious fear of God, and taught believers that faith in Christ is no light matter.
- Magnified — the name was seen to be great and mighty. It gave the city a testimony to the Deliverer, and it can still be magnified in the daily work of the weakest believer.
- Confessed — believers who had dabbled in magic told out their own shame. They burned their books, however costly, and Satan's stronghold was shaken.
- Prevailed — what Satan meant to spoil, the Lord turned to His own glory, so that the word of the Lord grew and prevailed.
And many of those that believed came confessing and declaring their deeds.
In Ephesus, some Jewish exorcists — the sons of Sceva — tried to use the name of Jesus as a magic formula, and the demon they addressed turned on them. Fear fell on the city, and then something unexpected happened: people who already believed came forward and said out loud what they had been doing.
What moved these believers to speak? God had shown His power in public, and that display reached their consciences.
It also works on the conscience of the believers. They come and confess their deeds. They bring the books of their magic arts, for which Ephesus was famous, and burn them in front of everyone. The books were worth fifty thousand pieces of silver. When God reveals Himself in power, the heart opens before Him. It honestly confesses everything the conscience knows, and does so openly for His glory. This is a special effect of the showing of His power. A person no longer thinks of himself or of his shame, but is overcome by the presence of God.
Ephesus was famous for magic, and these believers still carried that past. New life gave them a standard their old practices could not meet — unlike Paul, who had nothing to bring into the open.
They must have revealed things that astonished many in the crowd who knew nothing of these arts. Paul had nothing to hide or to confess. But those now converted saw what their past ways had been. Light shone on them, and confession followed on their part; for clearly the magical arts they had used were not of God. A new life received made them real and true, and they had to give up the past. It did not fit, to say the least, with what was now true.
Two things happened at once in Ephesus. Fear of the name fell on outsiders, and the same name moved believers to speak.
How precious to see the fear of His name overawing Jews and Greeks! And more than that: those who believed were so eager for His glory that they told out their own shame and worst degradation now that they had turned to Christ. They took vengeance on everything they owned, however costly, that carried the breath of the enemy's power and tricks!
Words were not the end of it. They burned the books, and the loss was deliberate — they could have sold them.
These events made believers realise that faith in Christ was no light matter. Ephesus was a renowned centre of magic arts, which no doubt attracted the sons of Sceva. But believers now confess their unholy involvement with these things. Many bring their books and burn them in public. The books had cost fifty thousand pieces of silver. They were right to take that loss instead of selling the books to others.
Speaking of past sins in front of others is not the starting point. Commentators put the matter right with God first, before a word goes to anyone else.
If the occasion arises, we can speak to others about our sins — but only once we have laid everything clearly before God. The Christian converts at Ephesus brought their books of magic. By the power of the Holy Spirit they confessed all their actions. If the love of God is poured out in our hearts, we feel more shame for our sins before God than before other people.
Some use this verse to make open confession to one another a regular practice. One writer answers that the text will not carry it.
There is confession here, but no "sharing." They were troubled sinners who came to Paul and his companions, confessing their deeds. They would do it once, and rightly so, but there is no hint of a system of "sharing."
- Power — God showed His hand in public, and that display, not argument, reached the conscience. "When God reveals Himself in power, the heart opens before Him."
- Light — new life showed up their old practices as impossible to keep. What conversion reveals, confession admits.
- Speech — they told out their own shame in public. The honour of the name of Jesus mattered more than their reputation.
- Cost — they burned books worth fifty thousand pieces of silver. They took the loss instead of passing the evil on to someone else.
- Order — lay it all before God first, where the shame is deepest. Speak to people when the occasion calls for it, once, not as a standing system.
And many of those that practised curious arts brought their books [of charms] and burnt them before all. And they reckoned up the prices of them, and found it fifty thousand pieces of silver.
Ephesus was famous for magic. When the word of God took hold there, people who had traded in charms did something drastic with their books. The verse counts the cost of that fire, and asks what conversion costs — and what it is worth.
Older translations call these practices "curious arts." The ESV calls them "magic arts." A Bible dictionary explains what they were:
Sorcerers in Acts used magical arts (called "curious arts" in Acts 19:19) and bewitched the people. Revelation uses another word for sorcery, pharmakeia. It refers to drugs, "to stupefy with drugs," and then to any system of sorcery by spells. Sorcery ranks among the worst of sins.
One writer describes what was written in the books, and what the believers did with them:
Quite a few brought their books, which recorded the spells and charms, and burned them in public. It was a complete burning — the effect of the word of God working in their consciences.
The fire did not come out of nowhere. One commentator traces it back to God's power at work in Ephesus:
God's power also works on the conscience of the believers. They come and confess their deeds. They bring the books of their magic arts, for which Ephesus was famous, and burn them in front of everyone — books worth fifty thousand pieces of silver. When God reveals Himself in power, the heart opens before Him. It honestly confesses all that the conscience knows, and does so openly, for His glory. Man thinks no longer of himself, or of his shame. The presence of God overwhelms him.
They had a cheaper option. The books could have been sold on. One commentator notes what they refused to do:
Ephesus was a famous centre of magic arts... But now believers confess their unholy links with these things. Many bring their books and burn them in public. The books had cost fifty thousand pieces of silver, but they were right to take that loss instead of selling the books to others. Such was the precious power of the Word of God.
Another writer sees the fire as proof of how they now felt about their old trade:
They gave the best proof of the disgust they now felt at their meddling with the wicked one... Living facts brought home the power of the word, and conscience responded at once.
The verse names the sum. One writer explains how heavy that loss really was:
They were genuine, and so gave proof of their sincerity, for the sacrifice they made was no small one. Money was worth far more then than it is now, so their financial sacrifice was greater than the same sums would be for us.
Another writer sets that loss against what they gained:
From one point of view this was a big sacrifice. From another it was not a sacrifice at all. It was a blessing to be rid of these books of "curious arts," which held things contrary to God and to His mind... The loss of fifty thousand pieces of silver — the gain of the riches of God's grace. That was something worthwhile! There was ample recompense for what they had given up. How sad it is when we are reluctant to give up what is wrong in the sight of God. Yet to turn away from what is wrong is the pathway to spiritual blessing.
Verse 20 follows immediately: the word of the Lord grew and prevailed. Writers connect the two directly.
This stronghold of Satan must have been shaken to its foundations when many who used magic arts burned their books in front of everyone. Such was the triumph of the gospel: the Word of God grew mightily and prevailed. The outcry of Demetrius and his companions only showed Satan's rage at the plundering of his goods.
Another writer brings the same pattern into our own day, with a warning:
Many others moved away from this dreadful evil. They burned the books that dealt with these things in public, despite what they were worth. The Word of God grew and prevailed, and this Satanic evil grew less and suffered defeat. It is a sad thought for us that in our day people pay less attention to the Word than they once did, while spiritist practices are on the increase.
- Power. God's power at Ephesus reached consciences first; the fire was the effect, not the cause.
- Confession. Hearts opened before God. They confessed openly and stopped thinking about themselves.
- Cost. The books were worth real money. They burned them instead of selling them on, and took the loss on purpose.
- Contrast. Fifty thousand pieces of silver went up in smoke. The riches of God's grace came in — ample repayment.
- Consequence. Satan's stronghold was shaken, and the Word of God grew mightily and prevailed.
Thus with might the word of the Lord increased and prevailed.
Ephesus was the capital of Asia and a famous centre of magic. Luke closes Paul's two years there with one summary line about the word. The verse credits nothing to the preacher. So what does it mean for a message to grow, and what proof was there that it had?
Notice what Luke makes the subject of his sentence.
It was the word of the Lord that grew mightily and prevailed. Not merely a company of saints, but the word of the Lord — that word which He has magnified above all His name. It is now the holiest answer on earth to Christ in heaven.
A message is not a living thing, so how can it grow? One writer answers that Scripture often speaks this way, naming the result by its cause.
So it says "the word of God increased" (Acts 6:7). The connection is "and the number of the disciples multiplied." In the same way, "the word of God grew and multiplied" (Acts 12:24). So mightily grew the word of God and prevailed (Acts 19:20). I never heard of these passages being a difficulty to anyone. These passages mark the mighty effect of His word made known in preaching. The effects produced are identified with their source.
(Some quotes here use an older translation, which reads "the word of God" where the ESV reads "the word of the Lord.")
The verse sums up a long stretch of patient work, not a sudden event.
So in Ephesus the word of the Lord grew and prevailed "with might," to use Luke's striking phrase. Every testimony had been at full tide there. There was the clear power and presence of the Spirit, shown by tongues and prophecies. There was bold preaching of the kingdom of God for months in the synagogue. There was freer daily discussion in the school of Tyrannus for two years, and in that time the disciples took up their own separate position. So not only the people of Ephesus but, broadly speaking, everyone living in the province of Asia, Jews and Greeks alike, heard the word of the Lord.
The word reached consciences, and the change showed in what people destroyed.
A new life received made them real and true. They had to give up the past as inconsistent, to say the least, with what was true. Many brought their books, which held the spells and charms, and burned them in public. It was the effect of the word of God working in their consciences.
They could have sold the books on and kept the money. Another writer weighs what that fire cost them.
The books had cost fifty thousand pieces of silver. They were right to accept that loss instead of selling the books to others. Such was the precious power of the Word of God.
The word did not stay in the city where Paul preached it.
Paul himself stayed in Ephesus. Yet from there the Word went through all Asia Minor (Acts 19:10), no doubt carried by others. Colosse and Laodicea were not far away, yet the believers there had never seen Paul's face (Col. 1:2).
The triumph did not go unchallenged.
At Ephesus, the capital of Asia, the gospel won some of its greatest triumphs through Paul's preaching. There "mightily grew the Word of God, and prevailed" (Acts 19:20). And there too, as a result, the devil made one of his fiercest attacks as a roaring lion. He hitched his chariot, as he so often does, to the greed of men. Demetrius the silversmith and his friends were his ready tools. The fierce riot in the Ephesian theatre, murderous in spirit, was the result.
The open sorcery of Ephesus is rare today. One writer warns that the enemy has quieter methods, and that the word still does its work.
Whatever these dark arts and devilish energies may be, the god of this age does his widest and most destructive work by methods that seem quite ordinary. He fits his deceptions to the passions and desires of the flesh… Most people perish, not in the terrible displays that appear here and there or now and then, but under the calm surface of what is respected. But the word of the Lord accomplishes the gracious purpose of Him who sends it out. It does so widely too, in the conversion and blessing of souls, if no longer with the might of apostolic days.
- Word, first. What grew in Ephesus was the word of the Lord, not a movement named after a preacher. It is the word He has magnified above all His name.
- Word, at work. Scripture names the result by its cause. When the word "grows," Scripture is counting people changed by preaching.
- Word, costing. The proof of growth was a fire worth fifty thousand pieces of silver. The owners burned the books instead of selling them on.
- Word, travelling. From one city it reached the whole province, carried by others while Paul stayed put.
- Word, opposed. The greatest triumph brought the fiercest attack. The same word still accomplishes the purpose of the One who sends it.
And when these things were fulfilled, Paul purposed in his spirit to go to Jerusalem, passing through Macedonia and Achaia, saying, After I have been there I must see Rome also.
Paul's long work at Ephesus is over. Here he sets the travel plan that shapes the rest of the book, and it raises two questions: whose "spirit" is resolving, and why does a man sent to the nations put Jerusalem before Rome?
Translations differ here. Some print "Spirit" with a capital, others "his spirit" with a small one. Commentators read it as Paul's own mind, not the Holy Spirit directing him — the plan of a man whose work in one city was done.
It is not correct to interpret "in the spirit" here of the Holy Spirit. It means only that the apostle planned it "in his spirit" — a phrase he often uses, in this Book and elsewhere. He longed once more to go to Jerusalem after passing through the two Roman provinces of Greece. He felt that his work at Ephesus had ended for now, and that after visiting Jerusalem he must see Rome also.
The strongest argument is not grammar but what happens next. The Spirit's later warnings rule out the idea that the Spirit began this trip.
People often ask how we should understand Paul's purposing in the spirit to go again to Jerusalem. Did he purpose in the Spirit of God, after long prayer, to go up to Jerusalem? Did the Holy Spirit guide him to carry the gifts from Achaia and Macedonia to the poor believers in the city of his fathers? It could not have been the Spirit of God who prompted him to go once more to Jerusalem. During the journey the Holy Spirit warned him many times not to go.
From here the story turns toward Rome. Everything that follows leads to the city Paul names here.
This verse marks an important change. It brings us to the last stage of Paul's recorded acts in this history. Rome is the goal which looms up before him. "I must also see Rome." And he did see Rome — but not in the way he had planned in his spirit. He came as the prisoner of the Lord.
Behind the detour lay affection, not ambition. Paul carried a gift from the churches of Greece to poor believers in Jerusalem, and his heart went with it.
But behind his burning desire to go up to Jerusalem stood the mighty constraint of love for his own beloved people. How he did love them and how his heart, filled with the love of God, yearned over them! This holy love and courage shaped his answer. His fellow believers had once more begged him by the Spirit not to go up to Jerusalem, and he said, "What are you doing, weeping and breaking my heart? For I am ready not only to be imprisoned but even to die in Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus."
Commentators differ on whether that errand suited him. One questions the detour, not the love behind it.
Why not go to Rome in the energy of the Spirit, now that his work in Greece was finished? ... But why should Paul put rebellious Jerusalem between his desire to preach and his work? The affection was good, and the service good — for a deacon, or a messenger of the churches. But this was Paul, who had the whole west open before him for the gospel!
The desire to see Rome was not only Paul's own wish. The Lord later said the same thing to him.
While at Ephesus Paul had "purposed in the spirit saying, I must also see Rome"; and, what is more important still, it was the Lord's purpose for him — "so must you also bear witness at Rome."
The plan was granted. The route was not what he pictured.
It was Paul's purpose to visit Rome after going to Jerusalem, and God gave effect to it, for it was God's purpose. But how different was the way under His hand from the apostle's expectation! He must go a prisoner to Rome.
Losing his freedom did not end his usefulness. It changed its direction, and what came out of prison has served the church ever since.
He also knows how to overrule any mistakes His servants make. He closes one line of service before them and opens another, which in the end may prove even more important. It was Paul's imprisonment that led him to write those inspired letters, which have built up the church for nineteen centuries.
- Spirit, small "s." Paul resolved this in his own mind. The Holy Spirit would later warn him again and again not to go to Jerusalem.
- Purpose. The verse turns the book toward Rome — everything after it is the journey to the city he names here.
- Pull. Jerusalem came first because he loved his own people and carried their gift. Writers ask whether that errand fitted an apostle sent to the nations.
- Promise. What he purposed, the Lord confirmed — he would testify in Rome. His wish became God's word to him.
- Prisoner. He reached Rome in chains, not in freedom. God grants the ask and still chooses the road. He can even turn a servant's mistake into letters that feed the church for centuries.
And having sent into Macedonia two of those ministering to him, Timotheus and Erastus, he remained himself awhile in Asia.
One quiet sentence sits just before the riot at Ephesus. Paul is still in Asia, and he sends two of his helpers ahead into Macedonia. It is a verse about how a servant of God plans, shares the work, and pays the cost of parting with the people closest to him.
In the verse before, Paul "resolved in the Spirit" to travel through Macedonia and Achaia. Sending these two men is the first step of that plan. The ESV prints "Spirit" with a capital letter. One commentator reads the phrase differently:
It is not right to take 'in the spirit' here as meaning the Holy Spirit. It means no more than that the apostle purposed it 'in his own spirit'. He uses this phrase often, not only in this book but elsewhere. He longed once more to go to Jerusalem after passing through the two Roman provinces of Greece. He felt that his work at Ephesus was done for now.
The word behind "helpers" is the ordinary word for a servant. It is also the word translated "deacon", and one writer uses that to clear up a common confusion:
Timothy and Erastus served as deacons (Acts 19:22). As for the seven men chosen in Acts 6:5, there is no hint that they were "deacons" in any sense other than the sense in which all the servants of Christ are. Once we remember that "deacon" and "servant" translate the same word, we see at once how mistaken it is to call these seven men "the first deacons." Say "the first servants" instead, and the error is obvious.
Erastus is named only a few times in the Bible. One writer groups him with godly treasurers and is not sure that every mention is the same man:
There have been godly treasurers, such as the one who served Queen Candace. We should not look down on him or on Erastus, because Scripture says, "in whatever condition each was called, there let him remain with God" (1 Cor. 7:24). If this is the same Erastus who is described in Acts 19:22 as serving Paul, and who stayed at Corinth (2 Tim. 4:20), we can thank God for such a saint.
Paul sent the fellow-worker closest to him, and stayed behind himself:
We also see how he directed the service of others with apostolic authority, and did so at great cost to himself. At this very time he sent two of those who served him into Macedonia: not Erastus only, but Timothy, the fellow-worker nearest to his heart, his beloved child, while he himself stayed for a while in Asia.
Paul held back from going himself. One commentator explains why he sent the two men ahead:
Yet he put off going to Macedonia and Achaia, clearly because he feared what he might find at Corinth (2 Cor. 1:15-23). He did send Timothy and Erastus ahead of him (1 Cor. 4:17), most likely hoping that their ministry would help correct wrong practices there before he came himself.
Paul decided where his fellow-workers went. Did that make him their master? The same writer, commenting on Erastus staying at Corinth years later, says no:
Even an apostle used no force in directing the work of his fellow-workers. They were servants of the Lord. No one would have urged this more earnestly than Paul, and no one would have drawn back more than he did from setting up an authority that gives orders between the Lord and His servants.
This verse also fixes where Timothy was at the time. That explains a small detail in Paul's two letters to Corinth:
While Paul was staying at Ephesus, he sent Timothy ahead into Macedonia (Acts 19:22). That probably explains why Timothy's name is missing from the opening of the first letter. By the time Paul wrote the second letter, both he and Timothy were in Macedonia, so Timothy's name appears there.
- Purpose. Paul planned the journey "in his spirit" — his own resolve, not a direct word from the Holy Spirit. His work at Ephesus was done for now.
- Servants. "Helper" here is the plain word for a servant. "Deacon" and "servant" translate the same word, and it belongs to everyone who serves Christ.
- Cost. The plan cost Paul personally. He gave up Timothy, the fellow-worker nearest his heart, and stayed behind himself.
- Care. Corinth was in trouble. Timothy and Erastus went ahead to help correct wrong practices there before Paul arrived.
- Freedom. Even an apostle used no force over fellow-workers. They stayed servants of the Lord, and Paul refused to stand between the Lord and His servants.
And there took place at that time no small disturbance about the way.
Luke calls the riot at Ephesus a disturbance "concerning the Way" — a whole manner of life, not just one preacher. So why did the storm break now, and what were the rioters defending?
The phrase Luke uses is not a title the believers chose for themselves.
The reader will find the rather unusual expression "the way" in Acts 9:2; 19:9, 23. We have translated it word for word from the Greek. We have no doubt it was a nickname given to Christianity, just as the world has always invented one for true godliness.
The name stuck because the life behind it could be seen. It marked people out in Damascus long before the riot in Ephesus.
Saul asked the high priest for permission to arrest the Christians in Damascus. He knew it was enough for the written order to call them men and women of "the way". At that time, being a Christian was not just believing on the Lord Jesus and enjoying peace with God, blessed as those things are. It was a way of life, and not only in some areas but in every part of life. What is more, the believers lived so distinctly, alone and together, that people could see their life as a particular "way". In fact it differed completely from the ways of the world and from the way of every other religion. So everyone knew it as "the way".
The uproar came late, not early. Something had been holding it back.
The enemy is now left free. The powerful effect of the word of God spurs him on, and he raises a great tumult against Paul and the gospel (v. 23). But it is useless to fight against God. His fury spends itself in shouts and cries. Yet when God allows it, opposition shows its true character. The devil works on people's passions, their selfish interests, their base motives. These rise up against the love, the grace and the salvation God sends to ruined men. Thank God, it was too late! His grace was freeing the slaves of a demonic superstition, the worship of false gods. That is what stirred up all this tumult. We have seen that God kept the enemy in check until the work was finished.
Both money and religion were in play at Ephesus.
The argument aimed at the pocket carried more weight, we may be quite sure, than any real reverence for Diana.
Why does that mixture work so well?
Still, religious motives, such as they were, cast a halo here over something that was really selfish and sordid. No device of the enemy is more common or more lasting. In this world Satan ties degrading, destructive superstition to what people care about now: their interests and their honour. So it is no wonder. Most people flare up fastest at a testimony to the truth that threatens their religion and their property. It is the same today, in principle, as it was then at Ephesus.
What Paul taught left no room for the old worship.
A man who does not know God will fight harder for his wealth and his religion than for anything else. And no one could deny the rest. Far beyond Ephesus, and even beyond Asia, Paul had persuaded many people and turned them away from their many gods and many lords. There was no doubt about what he meant. Things made with hands are not gods. For us there is one God, the Father, from whom are all things and for whom we exist, and one Lord Jesus Christ, through whom are all things and through whom we exist (1 Cor. 8:6).
Paul later wrote about this riot. It cost him more than a day of shouting.
We start with Asia in 2 Corinthians 1, where Paul refers to the great riot recorded in Acts 19. His preaching at Ephesus was so clearly in demonstration of the Spirit and of power that it overthrew satanic practices. The devil became furious and stirred up his servants. In 2 Corinthians 11:23 Paul speaks of being "often near death," and this was one of those occasions. God came in and delivered him, but the whole affair brought home "the sentence of death" in his own experience. He realised that he was a dead man, and all trust in himself was gone.
- Named — the world nicknamed Christianity "the Way," and it fit: the believers' life differed from every other way, in every part.
- Timed — God kept the enemy in check until the work was done. The riot came only after that.
- Provoked — grace was freeing people from the worship of false gods. That is what stirred the tumult, and the uproar showed how far grace had reached.
- Disguised — reverence for the goddess dressed up an appeal to the pocket. Satan still ties superstition to people's money and honour.
- Costly — God delivered Paul, but the riot brought the sentence of death home to him. All self-trust was gone.
For a certain [man] by name Demetrius, a silver-beater, making silver temples of Artemis, brought no small gain to the artisans;
Paul's long stay at Ephesus had emptied the city's magic books and thinned the crowds around its famous goddess. Now the trouble starts in a workshop instead of a synagogue, and one silversmith's accounts show what the gospel had been doing across Asia.
What Demetrius sold was not the great temple but a pocket version of it:
Small copies of pagan temples, at Ephesus or elsewhere. The word is ναός (naos), often translated "temple." Acts 19:24.
The ESV calls the goddess Artemis; the older translations these writers use call her Diana. Her worship gave these models a market:
The trade of Demetrius was to make small silver models of the goddess's shrine. People set them up in houses, kept them as reminders, and carried them on journeys. But the coming of Christianity was bound to hurt the sale of these models. So Demetrius stirred up the pagan workmen to raise a public cry for Diana and against the Christians.
The phrase "no little business" measures the scale of what was now at risk. Every believer in Asia was one customer fewer:
The large number of converts now in Asia, of whom Epaenetus was the firstfruits (Rom. 16:5), was bound to reduce the demand for silver shrines of Diana. It was this manufacture which proved so profitable to Demetrius and his companions. So the drop in his trade gave him a complaint his fellow-craftsmen could easily understand.
Demetrius will soon speak up for the honour of the goddess. Hole reads that as a cover story:
The success of the Gospel had endangered the trade of the silversmiths. It was easy for them to try to revive it under cover of zeal for the reputation of their goddess Diana. Was her greatness to be despised and her magnificence destroyed? Here was excellent camouflage for their real concern about their own money-making prospects!
That pairing of piety and profit is not a one-off scandal but a standing arrangement:
In this world Satan works to weave degrading, destructive superstition into people's daily interests and honour. So it is no wonder that most people catch fire when the truth threatens their religion and their property. It is the same today, in principle, as it was then at Ephesus.
Paul had not campaigned against the silver trade. He preached one truth, and the trade suffered as a side effect:
A certain man, Demetrius, earned large sums from making little silver shrines to Diana. He earned so much because this Diana was famous in the whole pagan world, and her temple was one of the seven wonders of the world (v. 27). Driven by the desire for gain, he gathers the craftsmen to oppose the truth that was destroying all their trade (vv. 25, 26). That truth showed that gods made with hands are no gods. How deep is the gloom into which man throws himself when he is without God, and by his very need of a God!
Kelly explains why the reaction was so strong:
Man, ignorant of God, will fight for nothing harder than for his wealth and his religion.
Read in sequence, the uproar is not a setback but a report on the previous verses:
Many who believed opened their hearts in confession of their deeds and of the Name of the Lord. This stronghold of Satan must have been shaken to its foundations when "a number of those who had practiced magic arts brought their books together and burned them in the sight of all." Such was the triumph of the Gospel: "So the word of the Lord continued to increase and prevail mightily." The outcry of Demetrius and his fellows only showed Satan's rage at being robbed of his goods.
- Craft — Demetrius made small silver copies of the goddess's temple for homes and journeys. "Shrine" here is simply the word for a temple.
- Cash — his workshop "brought no little business" to a whole guild. Every convert in Asia was one customer less.
- Cover — zeal for the goddess hid the real complaint. Money came first, and religion made it look respectable.
- Cause — Paul had only preached that gods made with hands are no gods. Men fight hardest for their wealth and their religion, and he had touched both.
- Consequence — the riot is evidence, not defeat. The magic books had burned, the word had won, and the uproar is the enemy's rage at losing his goods.
whom having brought together, and those who wrought in such things, he said, Men, ye know that our well-living arises from this work,
Demetrius says nothing about the goddess when he opens his meeting. He starts with money, reminding the silversmiths of Ephesus where their income comes from. Here the gospel stops being an idea and starts costing people their trade. What will a man do when the truth threatens his living?
Their craft was a real and profitable industry. It grew up around the famous temple of Diana (also called Artemis) in Ephesus, a goddess worshipped far beyond the city.
The trade of Demetrius was to make small models in silver of the shrine of the goddess. These were set up in houses, kept as memorials, and carried about on journeys. But the coming of Christianity was bound to cut the sale of these models. So Demetrius stirred up the pagan craftsmen to raise a public cry for Diana and against the Christians.
Money, not belief, drew the workmen together:
A certain man, Demetrius, made large sums from the manufacture of little silver shrines to Diana. This Diana was celebrated in the whole pagan world, and her temple was one of the seven wonders of the world (v. 27). Moved by the desire for gain, he gathers the craftsmen to oppose the truth which was destroying all their trade (v. 25, 26) — the truth which showed that gods made with hands were no gods. See how deep the darkness man throws himself into — without God, and by his very need of a God!
The order of Demetrius' arguments is itself revealing. He begins with the wallet and only then reaches for the honour of the goddess:
Satan succeeds in working on the greed of Demetrius, a silversmith. He suggests to him that Paul's teaching was robbing him of customers for his silver idol shrines. Demetrius calls together other silversmiths and impresses on them the need to protect their financial interests. This is his first concern, though he adds that Paul's teaching was also endangering the magnificence of their great goddess Diana. He knew well that this latter accusation would likely have more weight with the people.
The gospel's success is what set the whole scheme in motion:
The success of the Gospel had endangered the trade of the silversmiths. So it was easy to try to revive their trade under cover of zeal for the reputation of their goddess Diana. Here was excellent camouflage for their real concern about their own money-making prospects!
Commentators see a standing tactic here, not a one-off local quarrel:
In this world Satan works to weave degrading and destructive superstition into the present interests and honour of mankind. So it is no wonder that most men are quickly enraged by the testimony of the truth. It threatens to undermine both their religion and their worldly property. It is the same today, in principle, as then at Ephesus.
The same writer sums man up in one line, and notes how far Paul's preaching had already reached:
Man, not knowing God, will fight for nothing harder than for his wealth and his religion. And no one could deny it. Far beyond Ephesus, and beyond Asia too, Paul had persuaded many people and turned them away from their many gods and many lords.
Demetrius meant to sound an alarm. Instead he proved that the preaching he hated was working:
In Ephesus, that stronghold of idolatry, the truth won its way. It did so in full sight of the temple of the so-called goddess Diana, whom all Asia and the Roman world worshipped. Worshippers were drawn away from her worship, and interest in her was clearly declining. Christians were found throughout the province of Asia, and assemblies had sprung up... The gospel was indeed triumphing, and Demetrius and his fellows could not but admit it.
This complaint did not die at Ephesus. As Christianity spread, the same economic pressure produced the same outcry:
People deserted the pagan temples, neglected the worship of the gods, and seldom bought animals for sacrifice. This naturally raised a popular cry against Christianity, such as we had at Ephesus... People whose living depended on the worship of the pagan gods brought many serious complaints against the Christians before the governors.
The words are also turned inward, as a test for any religious arrangement that profits from keeping people at a distance from God:
But this would raise a great outcry, and the unwanted officials might say, as Demetrius of old said to his fellows, "Men, you know that from this business we have our wealth."
- Gain gathers. The desire for money moved Demetrius to call the meeting, not concern for Diana.
- Gain disguises. Money came first in his speech. He added the honour of the goddess because that argument would sway the crowd.
- Gain defends. Satan weaves religion and money together, so that men fight hardest of all to keep both.
- Gain confesses. By admitting his trade was failing, an enemy proved the gospel was winning. Across the province, worshippers had left the idol.
- Gain warns. Wherever a living depends on false worship, the cry of Demetrius rises again — it did across the empire, and commentators say the principle is unchanged today.
and ye see and hear that this Paul has persuaded and turned away a great crowd, not only of Ephesus, but almost of all Asia, saying that they are no gods which are made with hands.
Demetrius calls his fellow tradesmen together, and without meaning to he reports what Paul's preaching had done. He names the message, measures its reach, and admits its effect — then treats it all as a threat.
Demetrius repeats the charge: handmade gods are not gods at all. But Paul's preaching was not only a denial. It also said who the true God is, and what He now commands.
There was no doubt that he really did mean that those are no gods which are made with hands. He meant that to us there is one God, the Father, from whom are all things and for whom we exist, and one Lord Jesus Christ, through whom are all things and through whom we exist. We ought not to think, therefore, that the divine being is like gold, or silver, or stone, shaped by the art and imagination of man. And that one God now commands all people everywhere to repent. He has fixed a day on which He is going to judge the world in righteousness, by the Man whom He has appointed. He has given proof of this to all by raising Him from the dead.
"Almost all Asia" sounds vast to a modern reader. The name covered a much smaller area then.
This term in the New Testament does not refer to the part of the earth now called Asia. It does not include the whole of Asia Minor either. It applies only to the western part of Asia Minor... The province, with Ephesus as its capital, included Caria, Lydia, and Mysia.
Looking back over the whole visit, one writer describes what the preaching had already done to Diana's cult:
In Ephesus, that stronghold of idolatry, the truth won its way in sight of the temple of the so-called goddess Diana. All Asia and the Roman world worshipped her. Worshippers were drawn away from her cult, and interest in her was in noticeable decline... The gospel was indeed triumphing, and Demetrius and his fellows could not help admitting it.
Ephesus had heard idols mocked before, and no riot followed. The difference this time was money.
Their rage against Paul was not because he had said that they are no gods which are made with hands. Many of their own wise men had said the same. It was because he had persuaded and turned away a great crowd, not only of Ephesus, but of almost all Asia, so that their means of livelihood is threatened.
The speech sounds like religious devotion. One writer names what was underneath it:
The success of the gospel had endangered the trade of the silversmiths. It was not hard to try to revive their trade under cover of zeal for their goddess Diana. Was her greatness to be despised and her magnificence destroyed? Here was excellent camouflage for their real concern about their own money-making prospects!
This mix of money and religion is not just an Ephesian problem. One writer sees a deliberate design behind it:
In this world Satan works to tie degrading and destructive superstition to people's present interests and honour. Given that, it is no wonder that most people are so easily inflamed. Nothing stirs them like a testimony to the truth that threatens to undermine their religion and their worldly property. It is the same today, in principle, as it was then at Ephesus.
In that city, the plainest words in the verse became an offence. Numbers, not argument, decided what counted as absurd.
What an absurd thing to deny what all Asia and the world worship!... So saying there are no gods made with hands can come to count as heresy. And the town clerk can shame a crowd out of taking it seriously.
Behind Demetrius's scheming lies something sadder about man himself:
The desire for gain drove him. He gathered the craftsmen to oppose the truth that was destroying all their trade — the truth which showed that gods made with hands were no gods. How deep the gloom into which man, without God, and by his very need of a God, throws himself!
- Message. Paul preached that handmade gods are no gods. With it came the positive truth: one God the Father, one Lord Jesus Christ, and a coming day of righteous judgment.
- Reach. "Asia" here means the Roman province of western Asia Minor. Ephesus was its capital, and the message spread out from there.
- Admission. The complaint is a report of success — Demetrius could not deny that worshippers were leaving Diana.
- Motive. Wise men had mocked idols with no trouble. The rage began when the preaching hit people's income — then it dressed itself up as zeal for the goddess.
- Pattern. The enemy ties false worship to people's livelihood. Writers say the same principle is at work today.
Now not only there is danger for us that our business come into discredit, but also that the temple of the great goddess Artemis be counted for nothing, and that her greatness should be destroyed whom the whole of Asia and the world reveres.
Demetrius has just warned his fellow silversmiths that Paul's preaching is emptying their market. Now he adds a grander reason for anger — the temple of Artemis, or Diana, may be despised — but whose "magnificence" was really at stake?
Notice the order of his argument. Demetrius starts with the money, and only then names the goddess.
Satan could not stand by and see one of his great strongholds attacked and weakened by the power of the Spirit of God. So he works on the greed of Demetrius, a silversmith. He suggests to him that Paul's teaching was robbing him of customers for his idolatrous silver shrines. Demetrius then calls together other silversmiths. He presses on them the need to protect their money. This is his first concern, though he adds that Paul's teaching was also endangering the magnificence of their great goddess Diana. He knew well that this second accusation was likely to carry more weight with the people.
The appeal worked because money and religion pulled together. Commentators see an old and lasting tactic here, not a one-off at Ephesus.
Religious motives, poor as they were, even here cast a holy glow over something selfish and sordid. No device of the enemy is more common or more lasting. In this world Satan weaves degrading and destructive superstition into people's daily interests and honour. So it is no wonder that most people flare up fastest at a testimony to the truth that threatens to undermine their religion and their property. It is the same today, in principle, as it was then at Ephesus.
Demetrius names no teaching here. But one writer traces the riot back to the single claim that made every silver shrine worthless.
Demetrius made large sums from manufacturing little silver shrines to Diana. Driven by the desire for gain, he gathers the craftsmen to oppose the truth that was destroying all their trade (vv. 25, 26). That truth showed that gods made with hands are no gods. How deep is the gloom into which man throws himself when he is without God, and by his very need of a God!
One Greek word, sebomai, lies behind "worship" in this verse. It names the act, and says nothing about whether its object is real.
Sebomai occurs ten times in the Greek New Testament. Six times it appears as worship: Matthew 15:9; Mark 7:7; Acts 16:14; 18:7, 13; 19:27. Three times it appears as devout, and once as religious. So we can see that the basic meaning of sebomai is "I worship." But note, the worship may be right or wrong, true or false. Matthew 15:9 reads: "in vain do they worship me, teaching as doctrines the commandments of men." And Acts 19:27 speaks of the worship of the idol, Diana of the Ephesians. Both of these are wrong worship.
The boast about "all Asia and the world" was not empty. The shrines Demetrius made were the export arm of the cult.
Ephesus… was the main seat and centre of heathen idolatry. It was the stronghold of Satan's power, and from it idolatry spread all over the known world (Acts 19). Strangers eagerly bought the small silver shrines of the goddess Diana and set them up as household gods in their distant homes. The wealth of Asia adorned and beautified her huge temple, and people counted it one of the seven wonders of the world.
Demetrius was a hostile witness, but an accurate one. His complaint doubles as evidence of how far the gospel had gone.
How the truth had triumphed! In Ephesus, that stronghold of idolatry, the truth won its way. It did so in full sight of the temple of the so-called goddess Diana, whom all Asia and the Roman world worshipped. Her followers were leaving her cult, and interest in her was clearly declining. Christians now lived throughout the province of Asia, and assemblies had sprung up… The gospel was indeed triumphing, and Demetrius and his companions could not help admitting it.
Demetrius feared that his goddess would lose her magnificence. Time settled the question: one writer sets her temple beside the temple believers belong to.
The temple of Diana? How little we know of it today! Crumbled, and gone forever; all its glory and all its licentiousness gone. But the temple we belong to still exists today, and God is worshipped, and will be worshipped, eternally.
- Cause: the riot began with money, not conscience — Paul's preaching was costing the silversmiths customers.
- Cover: he re-labelled the threat to his income as a threat to the goddess, because that would move a crowd.
- Claim: the doctrine behind it all was that gods made with hands are no gods.
- Reach: the boast about all Asia and the world was true — Ephesus exported its idolatry in silver.
- Collapse: Demetrius feared rightly — his goddess is gone, while the temple made of believers stands.
And having heard [this], and being filled with rage, they cried out, saying, Great [is] Artemis of the Ephesians.
Paul's preaching in Ephesus had put the silversmiths' trade in danger. Their shout filled the whole city, and it raises a plain question: why does a message that has harmed no one make ordinary people this angry?
The name shouted in the street belonged to a goddess worshipped far beyond Ephesus, and known by two names.
Diana is the Latin name of one of the main goddesses of the Greeks and Romans. The Greek name is Artemis. People said that an image of her had fallen from heaven, or had been made of wood or ebony that fell from the clouds. All Asia worshipped it. Her temple was at Ephesus, built of the finest marble... Ephesus was an educated city in every other way, but in religion it was in the dark. Its people were so worked up that they could shout for two hours, "Great is Diana of the Ephesians."
Older translations use the Latin name, Diana. The ESV keeps the Greek name, Artemis. The commentators quoted here use both.
The rage was real, but it did not begin with religion. It began with a profit margin, and religion was the respectable word for it.
Satan worked through people's greed. The success of the gospel had put the silversmiths' trade in danger, so it was easy for them to try to revive it under the cover of zeal for the reputation of their goddess Diana. Would people now despise her greatness and destroy her splendour? It was an excellent disguise for their real worry — their own income!
The charge against Paul was not invented. He had said the thing the silversmiths reported, and it struck at the whole trade.
People who do not know God will fight for nothing more fiercely than for their wealth and their religion... There was no doubt about what Paul meant. Gods made with hands are not gods. For us there is one God, the Father, from Whom are all things and for Whom we exist, and one Lord Jesus Christ, through Whom are all things and through Whom we exist (1 Cor. 8:6). So we ought not to think that the divine being is like gold or silver or stone, an image formed by the art and imagination of man... But grace knows how to make the wrath of man praise God, and also how to hold back the rest of that wrath.
The crowd did not just praise their goddess. They tied her to themselves, and that one phrase explains the heat.
Not only were their profits at stake. The importance of their goddess and of their city was in danger too. They do not say, "Great is Diana," but "Great is Diana of the Ephesians." Knowing the true God makes us feel our own nothingness, and it judges the state of the heart. But a false religion forms an alliance with the passions of the heart. Worshippers are great in proportion to their religion and to what they worship. If the Diana of the Ephesians was great, then the Ephesians themselves were important in proportion to her importance. To look down on Diana was to take away from the greatness of her followers.
The verse names their fury before it names their shout. One writer sees a pattern in such anger, and points to the same reaction in a very different crowd.
In people who claim to know God, fits of rage are usually outbursts of false zeal. Man's anger never works the righteousness of God; it always resists it. The men of Nazareth were full of the anger of rebuked self-righteousness when they rose up to kill the Lord, and failed (Luke 4:28-30). In Gentile and in Jew we see the same cause producing the same effects.
One slogan was enough to endanger his life, and he later described the experience in his own words.
Their cry of "Great is Diana of the Ephesians!" was a spark that set the whole city on fire, because Satan had been at work preparing the fuel. Then came the frightening riot that Paul refers to in his second letter to the Corinthians. He and his friends "were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself" (2 Cor. 1:8). The excited Ephesians were ready to pass the sentence of death on Paul... God did deliver him "from such a deadly peril," but the danger was clearly so great that Paul compares his rescue to a resurrection from the dead.
- Money first. The gospel had cut the demand for silver shrines; the protest started at the workbench, not the temple.
- Mask second. Concern for the goddess gave a noble cover to a concern about income.
- Mob third. One phrase, shouted together, turned a trade meeting into a city-wide riot.
- Motive exposed. The cry named Ephesus as well as the goddess. Her greatness was their greatness, so the truth felt like a personal insult.
- Mercy last. Paul counted himself a dead man in that riot, and counted his escape a resurrection. The wrath of man served God's purpose instead of defeating it.
And the [whole] city was filled with confusion, and they rushed with one accord to the theatre, having seized and carried off with [them] Gaius and Aristarchus, Macedonians, fellow-travellers of Paul.
At Ephesus the gospel spread so far that the trade in silver shrines for the local goddess collapsed. The silversmiths dressed their lost income as religious zeal, and the city poured into the theatre — seizing two of Paul's companions instead of Paul.
The cry that filled Ephesus was about a goddess. The grievance underneath it was money. One writer names the hand behind that mix:
Satan works in this world to weave degrading and destructive superstition into people's present interests and honour. Since that is so, it is no wonder that the testimony of the truth quickly inflames most people. That testimony threatens to undermine both their religion and their property. In principle it is the same today as it was then at Ephesus.
Older translations call the goddess Diana; her Greek name is Artemis. Another writer sees the enemy change tactics:
In the dark arts Satan approaches men with all the cunning of the serpent. Beaten there on this occasion, he turned to action in which he showed himself as the roaring lion. He worked through the greed of men. The success of the gospel had endangered the trade of the silversmiths. It was not hard to try to revive it under cover of zeal for the reputation of their goddess Diana. Would people despise her greatness and destroy her splendour? Here was excellent camouflage for their real concern about their own money-making prospects!
One writer asks a simple question about the shouting crowd: did the people know what it was about?
A crowd picks up a popular cry easily, and that is what happened here. All could shout out "Great is Artemis of the Ephesians!" But why were they shouting this? What was it all about? Most of that huge crowd could not tell. They had dragged Gaius and Aristarchus, Paul's companions, along in their headlong rush to the theatre. Yet they plainly did not know what to do with them. No one touched either man: not a hair of their heads was hurt.
The theatre was the city's public gathering place. The Greek word for it turns up elsewhere too:
A place built for plays and other public entertainments, and for meetings of the people. At the uproar at Ephesus they rushed into the theatre (Acts 19:29, 31). The word is theatron, and it is translated 'spectacle' in 1 Cor. 4:9; angels and men gazed at the apostles.
One writer notes why the crowd picked out Gaius:
During the stirring scenes at Ephesus, when the truth was overthrowing the business of Demetrius, the crowd seized Gaius as a well-known companion of Paul. Acts 19:29 calls him a Macedonian. He seems to have been a Macedonian living at Corinth, as Lydia was a woman of Thyatira living at Philippi.
Commentators differ on whether this Gaius is any of the other men of that name in the New Testament. Another writer will not decide:
We cannot say for certain whether the Gaius of John's third letter is one of the others we read about who bear that name. The Gaius of Acts 19:29 was a man of Macedonia. The Gaius of Acts 20:4 was "of Derbe," a city in Asia Minor. The Gaius of 1 Corinthians 1:14 was a Corinthian.
The riot is the first place Aristarchus appears. One writer lists where he turns up after it:
Aristarchus was a fellow-prisoner with the Apostle at the time of writing. He had been a companion in Paul's travels (Acts 19:29); a fellow-sufferer in the shipwreck (Acts 27:2); a fellow-worker in service (Philemon 24); and at last he is a fellow-prisoner in the Apostle's chains.
Paul's own words about this time show how close to death he came:
Their cry of "Great is Artemis of the Ephesians!" was a spark that set the whole city alight. Satan had been at work making the material that would burn. Then came the alarming riot. Paul refers to it in his second letter to the Corinthians, when he and his friends "were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself" (2 Cor. 1:8). The excited Ephesians were ready to pass the sentence of death on Paul. But as he goes on to tell us, "we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead" (2 Cor. 1:9).
- Cause: The gospel cut into a trade. Greed then dressed itself as religious zeal — a mix that still inflames crowds today.
- Cover: Beaten in the dark arts, the enemy changed tactics. The goddess's honour became camouflage for lost profits.
- Confusion: The whole city rushed into the theatre. Most could not say why — and that ignorance kept the two captives safe.
- Cost: The crowd seized Gaius and Aristarchus for one reason: they were known as Paul's companions.
- Continuation: Aristarchus went on from this riot to shipwreck, service and prison — a companion in travel who became a companion in chains.
But Paul intending to go in to the people, the disciples suffered him not;
A riot over money and a goddess swept Paul's two travelling companions into the Ephesian theatre. Paul wanted to follow them in, but the believers stopped him — is a servant's courage always the same thing as God's guidance?
The theatre filled with people shouting the name of their goddess — Diana in older translations, Artemis in the ESV.
A popular cry starts easily and spreads, as it did in this case. Everyone could shout "Great is Diana of the Ephesians!" But why were they shouting it? What was it all about? Most of that huge crowd could not have said.
One writer names what actually set the city off:
The reason for their rage against Paul was not that he said gods made with hands are no gods. Many of their own wise men had said the same. It was that he had persuaded and turned away a great crowd, not only in Ephesus but in almost all Asia. Their means of living was now under threat.
Money and religion together make a dangerous mix. Another writer puts it plainly:
Man, who does not know God, will fight for nothing more fiercely than for his wealth and his religion.
Paul's own travelling companions were inside that theatre.
Paul, with the courage that always marked him, was about to go in there to the people, but the disciples held him back.
One writer looks at how the crowd treated the two men it did seize:
They had dragged Gaius and Aristarchus, Paul's companions, along with them to the theatre, and they clearly did not know what to do with them. No one touched either of them: not a hair of their heads was hurt. Had Paul appeared it might have been very different.
One writer reads the disciples' refusal as God's own hand over His servant.
The believers restrain Paul and keep him from going there, where his zeal would have carried him. God watches over His servant; there was nothing for him to do there.
Paul's courage would have found no work to do in that theatre. His life, though, still carried something people needed. One writer weighs what hung on that moment:
They little knew that the Judge was at the door, or how thin the thread was that held the sword of justice. Suppose Paul had gone into the theatre, and the blind rage of disappointed greed had killed him. People's souls would then have been cut off from that blessed truth of God. He was revealing that truth through Paul, so that they might have fellowship with Himself.
Paul had the authority to overrule the disciples. He did not use it.
Whatever his own courage or feeling, Paul did not look down on the friends who warned him, despite their position. Scripture shows that he gave way to the protest of his fellow believers. He knew, on the right occasion, how to use heaven's power on earth for the Lord's glory. He wrote with divine authority for the saints here below until Christ comes. Yet he could graciously bend to others, as well as stand alone where that was of God. Only the Holy Spirit can give discernment at the moment, when the eye is fixed on Christ alone.
How do you tell which moment calls for which? One writer draws the lesson from a later journey, when Paul pressed on after clear warnings:
The truest spiritual desire cannot take the place of the guidance of God... Not that spiritual zeal itself is evil — it is not; but if we lean on it, we will find it misleads us, and we will reap the results.
- Zeal. Paul's wish to enter the theatre was real courage. His friends were inside, and courage always marked him.
- Restraint. The disciples' refusal was God watching over His servant. There was nothing for Paul to do in that place.
- Submission. An apostle with divine authority still bent to the protest of ordinary believers. Scripture counts that to his credit.
- Discernment. Only the Spirit shows, at the moment, when to stand alone and when to yield. Zeal is no substitute for God's guidance.
- Stakes. Paul's life carried a message. Had he died in that riot, souls would have been cut off from the truth God was revealing through him.
and some of the Asiarchs also, who were his friends, sent to him and urged him not to throw himself into the theatre.
Paul wanted to walk into a theatre full of a rioting crowd. Some of the men who stopped him ran the city's religious festivals — and the verse calls them his friends.
These were the leading men of the Roman province of Asia. Their job put them on the opposite side of the argument from Paul:
The word is Ἀσιαρχῶν, "chiefs of Asia." They were officers chosen annually by the cities in the Roman province of Asia. They had charge of the public games and religious festivals. Some of the Asiarchs were friends of Paul. They begged him not to put himself in danger in the theatre, since no one could always control a riotous mob.
One more detail explains their weight in the city.
These were elected officials, who, at their own expense, furnished festivals in honour of the gods.
The men with the most reason to resent Paul's preaching were the men God used to shield him.
Still, as we have seen, God was at work behind the scenes through wiser men of high standing among them. The Asiarchs, whose chief or chiefs lived at Ephesus, had the easiest means and the best position in the state. Their very office would make you expect them to resent any dishonour done to their religion more than anyone. But kindness, if not conscience, made them give Paul wise advice: he should not risk himself in the theatre. God used them to shelter His servant. Here zeal and courage would have done no good, and might have put him in danger.
The danger was real. The mob had already dragged in two of Paul's companions. Nobody touched them, though. Its fury had one target.
They had dragged Gaius and Aristarchus, Paul's companions, with them in their headlong rush to the theatre. Once there, it was obvious they did not know what to do with them. No one touched either of them: not a hair of their heads was hurt. Had Paul appeared it might have been very different.
Paul said plainly that hand-made gods are no gods at all. His friendship with these officials shows how he said it.
Paul declared faithfully that gods made by hands are not gods at all. Yet these men were his friends. That shows he was not offensive in the way he opposed such idolatry.
Later the town clerk calmed the mob. Even he could clear Paul's team of insulting the city's religion.
It is worth noting what he could say about Paul and his companions: they are "neither temple-plunderers, nor speak injuriously of your goddess" (New Translation). That shows they had carefully avoided anything that might have given offence. Their work was the positive preaching of the Gospel, not the negative work of exposing the follies of idolatry.
Paul wanted to face the crowd. He didn't. Two things stand out: the mark his life left on these officials, and what he did with their advice.
It is very interesting to see the moral effect of Paul's teaching and life on certain of the chief officers of Asia. Scripture sets them apart from the disciples, yet says plainly that they were his friends. What is more, scripture shows that Paul did not despise these friends, despite their position. Whatever his own courage or feeling, he gave way to the protest of his brothers in the faith. At the right moment he knew how to wield on earth the power of heaven for the Lord's glory. He wrote with divine authority for the saints here below until Christ comes. Yet he could bend graciously to others, and he could also stand alone when that was of God. Only the Holy Spirit can give the discernment at the moment, where the eye is single to Christ.
Behind the restraining hands was a simple fact about the moment: the theatre held no work for him.
The brothers restrain Paul, and keep him from going there, where his zeal would have led him. God watches over His servant; there was nothing for him to do there.
- Who — the cities of Asia chose the Asiarchs each year. They ran the public games and religious festivals, and paid for them out of their own pockets.
- Friendship — these officials were friends of the man who said their gods were no gods at all. Plain preaching had not meant offensive preaching.
- Restraint — Paul's zeal pointed him toward the theatre. But there was nothing for him to do there, and the mob would have found its target in him.
- Protection — God sheltered His servant through men of high standing. Courage alone would have achieved nothing there.
- Discernment — the same apostle who could stand alone could also bend to the advice of others. Only the Holy Spirit shows which moment is which.
Different persons therefore cried out some different thing; for the assembly was tumultuous, and the most did not know for what cause they had come together.
Ephesus was in an uproar. The gospel had cut into the trade in silver shrines, and the crowd had rushed into the great theatre shouting for the city's goddess — called Diana in older translations and Artemis in newer ones. Two questions rise out of the scene. Why is this mob called an "assembly"? And what does it mean that most of them could not say why they were there?
The word for "assembly" here is the same word used elsewhere for the church. One writer shows what that word does and does not prove.
Israel was a great assembly or congregation, as nobody can dispute. But that proves nothing about whether it was what God's assembly is now, according to the word. It is "Ecclesia," an assembly, in Acts 7, and the word, being simply an assembled multitude, says just no more than that. Acts 19 uses the identical word when it says that the town clerk "dismissed the assembly." Put "the church" there, and what nice sense you will have!
The same word can carry a far higher meaning. One writer shows what the Spirit of God does with it.
"Assembly" in this verse is exactly the same word the Spirit of God uses for "the assembly, the body of Christ" (Ephesians 1:22-23). It simply means a company of people elected out of the community to represent the city. The Spirit of God takes up that word and gives it a dignified meaning, a glorified meaning. It names ones called out of this world's system. They are to be for God intelligently, to represent God, and to function for God.
The verse says most of them did not know why they had come. One writer shows how such a cry spreads, and what happened to the two men the crowd dragged along.
A popular cry is easily raised and taken up, as it was in this case. All could shout out "Great is Diana of the Ephesians!" But why were they shouting this? What was it all about? The greater part of that vast crowd could not tell. They had carried Gaius and Aristarchus, Paul's companions, with them in their headlong rush to the theatre. Yet plainly they did not know what to do with them. No one touched either of them: not a hair of their heads was hurt.
The noise was religious, but the interests underneath it were not. One writer shows how little religion a crowd actually needs.
This outbreak shows us the power of the prince of this world. Worldly interests back him, and they love to shelter under the cover of religion. Men must have a religion; yet how thin a coat of it will do for the crowd, while the crowd in turn will do for the religion... In fact the cry that unites the mob is "Great is Artemis of the Ephesians!" Yet when they come together, it is hard to turn that cry into anything that makes sense.
The book has already shown religious feeling turning violent among the Jews. One writer explains why this scene was needed too, and who God used to keep Paul safe.
It was fitting that we should have a living picture of a half-religious riot among the Gentiles themselves. And we have it in the largest theatre whose ruins survive to this day. The Gentiles were certainly a little more senseless than the Jews, though their convictions were nowhere near as deep... Whatever the selfish motives underneath, they voiced their anger for the great Artemis, the goddess the Ephesians boasted about. Yet, as we have seen, God worked providentially through wiser men of high station among them... God used them to shelter His servant, where zeal and courage would have been useless, and might have exposed him to danger.
Commentators apply the scene to their own day in two ways. One notes how familiar the pattern remains:
Since that time, men's protest demonstrations have often produced the same senseless confusion.
Another turns it on the popular slogan that the voice of the people is the voice of God:
It is the "People's Party" in politics and in religion. It is the "People's Church." And people tell us confidently, "The voice of the people is the voice of God." God does not tell us so. He tells us the opposite. And where is His voice heard in all the noise and confusion caused "by the voice of the people"? Today it is one thing, and tomorrow something else... All around is confusion, as at Ephesus.
- One word, two assemblies. The word translated "assembly" here is the same word elsewhere translated "church." On its own it means no more than a gathered crowd.
- The crowd is the proof. Most of the shouters could not say why they had come — a cause loud enough to fill a theatre and too empty to explain itself.
- Thin coat. A trade interest was doing the real work; the goddess supplied the slogan, and a slogan was all the religion the crowd required.
- Not a hair harmed. The confusion that made the mob dangerous also made it useless: it seized Paul's companions and then had no idea what to do with them.
- The other calling. The Spirit takes the same ordinary word and lifts it. It names a people called out of the world's system, who know why they are gathered.
But from among the crowd they put forward Alexander, the Jews pushing him forward. And Alexander, beckoning with his hand, would have made a defence to the people.
A packed theatre in Ephesus is roaring, and most of the crowd cannot say why they came. Into that noise the Jews push a man named Alexander, who lifts his hand to speak and gets two hours of chanting instead.
Acts has already shown religious excitement among the Jews. One writer sees this riot as the matching scene among the heathen.
In this book we have already had the Holy Spirit's account of religious excitement among the Jews... It was fitting that we should also see a living picture of a half-religious riot among the heathen themselves. It happened in the largest theatre whose remains still survive today. The Gentiles were certainly a little more senseless than the Jews, though their convictions were nowhere near as deep.
Alexander did not step out on his own; the Jews pushed him. They had reason to fear where the mob's anger would land next.
The Jews clearly began to fear that the persecution might turn against them, since most of the people did not know why they had come together. So they put forward a man named Alexander, probably to shift the blame from themselves onto the Christians. But the moment the heathen found out he was a Jew, their fury grew.
Commentators differ on his aim. One takes it as a move to shift blame onto the Christians; another, as a defence of the one true God.
Acts records more than one raised hand before a crowd. One writer separates Alexander's motion from the apostle's own gesture, made while he wore a chain.
It is well to avoid the mistake of confusing the apostle's act here with what he did in the synagogue of Antioch in Pisidia, or what Alexander did in the tumultuous assembly at Ephesus. This was "beckoning with the hand", quite different in character and aim from stretching it out, here too with a chain.
Alexander never got past his opening move. The crowd saw one thing about him and stopped listening.
It was useless, then, for Alexander to beckon with his hand in the desire to make a defence to the people. It was enough that they saw he was a Jew, and therefore hostile to their idolatry. There was one voice from all, for about two hours, as they cried out, "Great is Artemis of the Ephesians!" What a true picture of a world governed by prejudice and feeling in what matters most — for this life, and for the life to come! God, the true God, is not in their thoughts, which are therefore open to any and every delusion.
The Jews held the right belief about God being one. It bought them nothing in that theatre.
Once again the poor Jews prove themselves without light. Walking in darkness in their own errors, they put forward one of their countrymen to defend the doctrine of the one God. But this only stirred up the fury of the people even more... Without God no one can oppose the devil or uphold the truth. The truth of the one God had no power without faith and truth in the heart, and neither did the name of Jesus, linked with Paul who announced Him.
Paul later warns Timothy about a coppersmith named Alexander who "did me great harm" (2 Timothy 4:14).
The Apostle then refers to "Alexander the coppersmith." Whether he is the same man mentioned in Acts 19:33 we cannot now tell. Here he carries the unenviable reputation of an uncompromising opponent of the truth, and of the Apostle in particular.
Paul came out of the riot safely. One writer traces that deliverance to a chain of unlikely helpers.
From the account in Acts we can see how God used one person and then another to work the deliverance. He used certain of the chiefs of Asia; Alexander, who drew attention away from Paul; and the town clerk with his diplomatic talk. Most of the wild demonstrators had no idea exactly why they were demonstrating.
One writer sees God at work in the advice those men of rank gave Paul.
Kind feeling, if not conscience, made these men of high station give Paul the wise advice not to venture into the theatre. God used them to shelter His servant, where zeal and courage would have been useless, and might have exposed him to danger.
- Confusion — Religious excitement filled the assembly, but it had no idea of its own cause. Most of those present could not say why they had come.
- Calculation — Alexander did not step out on his own. The Jews pushed him, likely to move the blame onto the Christians.
- Gesture — His motion of the hand asked the crowd for a hearing. That differed in aim from Paul's own gesture of address.
- Contempt — One fact ended his defence before it began: he was a Jew. That is a world ruled by prejudice and feeling, with no place for God in its thoughts.
- Control — Right doctrine without God carried no power that day. Yet God used the whole uproar — Alexander included — to shelter His servant Paul.
But, recognising that he was a Jew, there was one cry from all, shouting for about two hours, Great [is] Artemis of the Ephesians.
Paul's preaching in Ephesus had hurt the trade in silver shrines. A silversmith's complaint swept the city into the theatre, and for two hours the crowd did not argue — it chanted.
The ESV calls her Artemis. Older English translations call her Diana, and some quotes below use that older name. One reference work describes her, and the city that shouted for her:
Diana is the Latin name of one of the main goddesses of the Greeks and Romans; the Greek name is Artemis. People said an image of her had fallen from heaven. All Asia worshipped it. Her temple was at Ephesus, built of choice marble... Ephesus was an enlightened city in other ways, but it was dark when it came to religion. The excited people could shout for two hours, "Great is Diana of the Ephesians."
Kelly sees in this crowd a picture of how the world settles the questions that matter most:
There was one voice from all, for about two hours, as they cried out, "Great is Artemis of the Ephesians." What a true picture of a world ruled by prejudice and feeling in the thing that matters most — not only for this life, but also for the life to come! God, the true God, is not in their thoughts, and so their thoughts lie open to any and every delusion.
Most of the crowd could not have said what the quarrel was about:
A popular cry is easily started and taken up, as it was here. Everyone could shout out "Great is Diana of the Ephesians!" But why were they shouting this? What was it all about? Most of that huge crowd could not tell.
The crowd does not just praise the goddess. They praise their goddess, and Darby notes that their own standing rises with hers:
They do not say, "Great is Diana," but "Great is Diana of the Ephesians." Knowing the true God makes us feel our own nothingness, and it judges the state of the heart. A false religion, by contrast, joins hands with the passions of the heart. Worshippers are great in the measure of their religion, and of what they worship... To look down on Diana was to take away from the greatness of her followers.
Underneath the devotion lay a threatened income. The religious cry gave that interest a respectable voice:
The story of this outbreak shows us the power of the prince of this world, held up by worldly interests that love to hide under the cover of religion. Men must have a religion; yet how thin a coat of it is enough for the crowd, while the crowd in turn is enough for the religion.
The Jews of the city pushed Alexander forward to speak for them. It backfired the moment the crowd saw he was a Jew:
Here again we find the Jews putting Alexander forward. However clever the plan, it did them no good. It only inflamed the crowd all the more. The idol-worshippers instinctively resented a defender like this. Could anyone honestly think that the Jews had more respect for their great goddess than the Christians had?
Darby draws a further lesson from the failure. These men held a true belief — that God is one — yet could do nothing with it:
Without God no one can stand against the devil or hold up the truth. Neither the truth of the one God, nor the name of Jesus joined with the name of Paul who preached Him, had any power without faith and truth in the heart.
Outside the shouting, God was at work. Kelly sees His hand in the advice that kept Paul out of the theatre:
God worked through wiser men of high standing among them... Kind feeling, if not conscience, made them give Paul the wise advice not to risk himself in the theatre. God used them to shelter His servant, where zeal and courage would have done no good, and might have put him in danger.
Darby sets the struggle at Ephesus in a longer view, reaching to Christ's return:
Until the Lord comes, this conflict must go on. Miracles have ceased, but the care of His servants never grows weaker in the heart of Jesus. He works as truly as ever, and God's government orders everything for the good of His work. He may allow Satan's rage to break out, but He never forgets His own.
- Cause. The uproar started with threatened profits. Religion supplied the slogan that made greed sound noble.
- Cry. "Of the Ephesians" is the giveaway. A false god makes worshippers feel great; the true God shows them their nothingness.
- Crowd. Two hours of one voice, and most could not say what it was all about. Where God is left out of people's thoughts, feeling and prejudice take charge.
- Collapse. Alexander held a true belief about God and still could not be heard. Truth without faith in the heart carries no power.
- Care. God sheltered His servant through the men who kept Paul out of the theatre — and He works as truly today.
And the townclerk, having quieted the crowd, said, Ephesians, what man is there then who does not know that the city of the Ephesians is temple-keeper of Artemis the great, and of the [image] which fell down from heaven?
The riot at Ephesus has run for two hours, with the crowd chanting one slogan. Then a city official steps forward, and his first words are not a defence of Paul but a compliment to Ephesus.
The man is not a clerk in the modern sense. The office carried real weight in that city, and the speaker uses it well.
The town clerk, or recorder, now comes on the scene. In that age and country he was a far more important man than such an officer is in most places, as we learn from ancient inscriptions and other evidence. He worshipped idols like the rest. But their pointless frenzy shocked his common sense. His speech states in plain, sharp terms their own folly and wrong — not their wrong towards God, but towards other men, and above all in the eyes of their Roman governors.
Older writers call the goddess Diana; the verse uses her Greek name, Artemis. The clerk appeals to what no one in Ephesus would deny: the city keeps her temple, and it keeps an image people believed had dropped out of the sky. One writer points out what that image really was.
He appealed to what everyone knew: Ephesus worshipped Diana and the image they claimed had fallen down from Jupiter. The image was clearly a man-made thing. It stood for the powers of nature that give birth and feed, and that is why it had many breasts. But men given to idols will accept any superstitious lie.
Ephesus was no backwater. Its culture and its religion were in two different worlds.
Diana is the Latin name of one of the chief goddesses of the Greeks and Romans. The Greek name is Artemis. People said an image of her had fallen from heaven, or that someone had made it from wood or ebony that fell from the clouds. All Asia worshipped it. Her temple stood at Ephesus, built of choice marble… Ephesus was in other ways an enlightened city, yet it was dark in religion: the excited people could shout for two hours, "Great is Diana of the Ephesians."
The clerk argues that no one had touched the city's honour, so the crowd had no reason to riot. One writer, giving his own translation of the clerk's next words, notes the hint buried in the little word "for" and corrects an old mistranslation of what these men were not.
"Since no one can deny these things, you ought to be quiet and do nothing rash. For you have brought these men here, and they are neither temple-robbers nor blasphemers of our goddess…" The little word "for", which our version and perhaps every other leaves out, hints without saying it outright: Why all this fuss?… All the old Protestant English versions give the completely false rendering "robbers of churches".
The men the crowd had seized had done nothing to the goddess or her temple, and Demetrius had a lawful way to bring any complaint.
How foolish they looked! Neither Gaius nor Aristarchus had attacked their goddess. Neither they, nor any Christians, had committed the sacrilege of robbing the temple. So the right thing for them all was to be quiet and do nothing rash. If Demetrius had a grievance, the law courts and the Roman governors were there; he should take it to them, not to the excited crowd filling the theatre. So they should all break up quietly, or the city's leaders would have to answer for the uproar.
A crowd that chants for two hours shows how it thinks. One writer sees the whole world in it.
What a true picture of the world! It is ruled by prejudice and feeling in the very things that matter most — not only for this life, but for the life to come. God, the true God, is not in their thoughts, so their thoughts lie open to every delusion.
The speech holds no gospel and no truth about God. Yet it is what keeps Paul and the believers in Ephesus safe.
It was good for everyone that the town clerk was a man of great tact and skill. He flattered the crowd, calmed them, soothed them, and sent the assembly home. But faith sees more: God was using the persuasive speech of an idol-worshipping official to protect His servant and His many children there.
The clerk's proud phrase turns up again in a later letter to these same people. The apostle writes to them as Gentiles — non-Jews — about what they once were.
The apostle was writing to Gentiles. They had once been "worshippers of the great goddess, Diana," and of the image which they imagined had fallen "down from Jupiter." Poor idol-worshippers they were then. These Gentiles are the "you" of that solemn statement, and he himself with other Hebrews are the "we."
- Boast. The city's proudest title was "temple keeper" of Artemis and of a stone said to have dropped out of the sky — an object that human hands had made.
- Blindness. An otherwise cultured city shouted one slogan for two hours; where the true God is not in men's thoughts, any delusion can move in.
- Brake. A city official stops the riot with plain civic sense: these men insulted no goddess and robbed no temple, so no one had cause to act rashly.
- Behind it. The speech preaches no gospel, yet faith reads God's hand in it: He shelters His servant through a man who did not know Him.
- Beyond it. The very words "worshippers of the great goddess Diana" later describe what grace lifted these same people out of.
These things therefore being undeniable, it is necessary that ye should be calm and do nothing headlong.
Paul's stay at Ephesus ended in a riot. The riot ended with no sword and no sermon: a city official talked the crowd back into its senses. He began by granting the mob its premise. The greatness of Artemis and the stone that fell from the sky were beyond argument. Then he drew the opposite conclusion: if nothing is under threat, nothing needs to be done.
The speaker was no minor clerk in the modern sense, and he was not on the Christians' side.
The town clerk, or recorder, now comes on the scene. He was a much more important person in that time and country than in most others, as we learn from ancient inscriptions and other sources. He was a pagan like the rest. But his common sense was shocked by their pointless excesses. His speech sets out in plain, sharp terms their own folly and wrong — not as to God, but as among men, and especially before their Roman governors.
The whole argument rests on something the speaker treats as settled fact. That is exactly where one commentator presses.
This is how man is deceived. He assumes as beyond question what is merely a delusion of the enemy. Intelligence is no protection against the lie of Satan; nothing protects but the truth brought home by the Spirit of God. For this man, otherwise sensible, the great Artemis and the stone that fell from the sky were things that could not be denied. On that assumption he insists that calmness is the only fitting state of mind for his fellow worshippers.
His argument moves from the men in custody, to the proper courts, and finally to a risk the city itself was running.
He calls for calmness and for holding back from any rash action. He tells them that the men they had seized (Gaius and Aristarchus) were neither temple plunderers nor blasphemers of their goddess. He knew that these men were not agitators, but that Demetrius was causing the agitation. So he tells them this: if Demetrius and the other craftsmen want to bring a civil charge against anyone, the courts were fully available, and lawyers too... For, as he says, the Roman authorities would likely ask hard questions about such an uproar. And they could give them no satisfactory answer.
The official could clear Paul's companions of any crime against the temple. That says something about how they had preached in the city.
The town clerk was able to say of Paul and his companions that they are "neither temple-plunderers, nor speak injuriously of your goddess" (New Translation). This shows that they had carefully avoided all that might have given offence. They went in for the positive preaching of the gospel rather than the negative work of exposing the follies of idolatry.
The craftsmen feared for their trade. But the whole city shared something else, and it took very little to show how thin it was.
The history of this outbreak shows us the power of the prince of this world, supported by the worldly interests that love to shelter under the cover of religion. Men must have a religion; yet how thin a coat of it will do for the crowd, while the crowd in turn will do for the religion. What an absurd thing, to deny what all Asia and the world worship! ...So it can become heresy to say that things made by human hands are not gods. And the town clerk can shame a crowd out of taking it seriously.
Faith sees more here than a skilful official.
Fortunately for all parties, the town clerk was a man of great tact and admirable policy. He flattered, calmed, soothed, and dismissed the assembly. But to faith it was God using the persuasive eloquence of a pagan official to protect His servant and His many children there.
- Quiet asked. The town clerk tells the mob to be still and do nothing rash. His advice was sensible among men. But it aimed at the city's standing before its Roman governors, not at honouring God.
- Quiet on a lie. What he calls undeniable is a delusion of the enemy. Intelligence is no defence against such a lie. Only truth brought home by the Spirit of God is.
- Quiet deserved. The town clerk could clear Paul's companions of robbing the temple or insulting the goddess. They had preached the gospel rather than attacked idols.
- Quiet enforced. What settled the crowd was fear. Rome could charge them with riot, and they had no answer to give for the day's uproar.
- Quiet given. To faith, God was using a pagan official's eloquence to protect His servant and His many children in that city.
For ye have brought these men, [who are] neither temple-plunderers, nor speak injuriously of your goddess.
The riot at Ephesus ends with a city official clearing Paul's companions in public. His sentence holds two things at once: the Christians are innocent, and he still calls Artemis "our goddess".
The city was in uproar and no one could quiet it. Then a public officer stepped forward, and the mood changed:
Fortunately for everyone involved, the town clerk was a man of great tact and admirable skill. He flattered the crowd, calmed them, soothed them, and sent the assembly home. But to faith it was God using the persuasive speech of a pagan official to protect His servant and His many children there.
The word behind "sacrilegious" means temple-robbers — men who break into a shrine and steal its treasures. Older English Bibles got it wrong, and Kelly says so bluntly:
All the old Protestant English Versions have the absurdly false rendering "robbers of churches". Bad habit runs that deep, and not only among ordinary people.
So the clerk clears them of two crimes: robbing the temple, and insulting Artemis. Stuart points to the two men the crowd had seized:
How foolish they looked! Neither Gaius nor Aristarchus had attacked their goddess. Neither they, nor any Christians, had committed sacrilege by robbing the temple. So the right course for them all was to keep quiet and do nothing rash.
An official who worshipped Artemis could find nothing to charge them with. Hole reads that silence as evidence of how Paul and his companions had worked:
Note how he could say of Paul and his companions that they are "neither sacrilegious nor blasphemers of our goddess". This shows they had taken care to avoid anything that might cause offence. They gave themselves to the positive preaching of the Gospel, not to the negative work of exposing how foolish idol-worship is.
So the gospel did its work by what it preached, not by insults aimed at what others worshipped.
The same man who defends the Christians is himself deceived — and he treats his delusion as the one thing beyond argument. Kelly draws the warning out:
This is how man is deceived. He takes as beyond question what is only a delusion of the enemy. No amount of intelligence protects a man against the lie of Satan; nothing does but the truth brought home by the Spirit of God. For this man, sensible in other things, the great Artemis and the stone that fell from the sky were facts no one could deny.
He knows law and public order, yet about God he is wrong.
This riot also raises a question about the crowd itself. What was their religion actually worth?
This outbreak shows us the power of the prince of this world, propped up by worldly interests that love to shelter under the cover of religion. Men must have a religion; yet how thin a coat of it is enough for the crowd, while the crowd in turn is enough for the religion. What an absurd thing to deny what all Asia and the world worship! Really, men believe in men... So it can end up being heresy to say that things made with hands are no gods; and a town clerk can shame a crowd out of taking it seriously.
Having cleared the accused, the clerk turns to the accusers.
He knew that these men were not the troublemakers. Demetrius was the one stirring things up. So he tells them that if Demetrius and the other craftsmen want to bring a civil charge against anyone, the courts are open and there are lawyers too. As he says, the Roman authorities would likely question them closely about the reason for such an uproar, and they could give no satisfactory answer. It was the Lord's mercy that the matter ended in this way.
- Cleared — The clerk names the two crimes nobody could pin on them: robbing the temple, and insulting the goddess.
- Careful — A man who worshipped Artemis found nothing to charge them with. Paul's companions had given no needless offence.
- Constructive — They put their strength into preaching the Gospel, not into attacking idols.
- Cover — The crowd's religion was a thin coat over worldly interests. A town clerk could shame them out of it.
- Cared for — A man still deceived about Artemis spoke well. Faith sees God using him to protect His servants.
If therefore Demetrius and the artisans who [are] with him have a matter against any one, the courts are being held, and there are proconsuls let them accuse one another.
Paul's preaching in Ephesus had cut into the trade in silver shrines, so the silversmith Demetrius raised a mob that shouted for two hours. The town clerk calmed it and pointed Demetrius to the courts, and God used that pagan official to shield Paul's companions.
Two phrases in the verse come from Roman court life. One writer explains what they meant in Ephesus.
The town clerk of Ephesus tried, and with success, to calm the excited crowd in the theatre of the city. That city took pride in being the temple-keeper of Artemis the Great. "If Demetrius," he said, "and the craftsmen with him have a matter against any man, the law is open" (rather, the law courts are being held), "and there are deputies (or proconsuls): let them bring charges against one another."
The writer is correcting an older translation. "The law is open" does not mean that law exists in general. It means the court days had come round and the officials who heard such cases were on hand — what the ESV calls "the courts are open, and there are proconsuls."
The clerk's point is that a complaint against a man is not settled by a crowd.
So he tells them this. If Demetrius and the other craftsmen want to bring a civil charge against anyone, the courts were open and lawyers available. Other matters — political ones, for instance — would need a properly arranged assembly under proper government. For, as he says, the Roman authorities would likely question closely the reason for such an uproar, and they could give them no satisfactory answer.
Another writer notes that the clerk goes further. He calls the whole proceeding out of order and unsafe.
He is more exact as well. He puts before Demetrius and the craftsmen with him that their procedure was irregular and dangerous for everyone. A charge must come at a proper time and place, and before the right judge. Only there could a case reach a lawful result.
The same clerk who knows court procedure treats the tale of a stone fallen from the sky as beyond question. One writer draws the lesson: clear thinking is no defence against a lie.
This is how man is deceived. He takes as beyond question what is only a delusion of the enemy. No amount of intelligence protects him from the lie of Satan. Nothing does that but the truth brought home by the Spirit of God. For this man, otherwise sensible, the great Artemis and the stone that fell from the sky were things that could not be denied.
The clerk could point Demetrius to a courtroom because there was nothing to try. One writer traces that back to how Paul and his companions had worked.
Notice what he could say of Paul and his companions. They are "neither temple-robbers, nor do they speak against your goddess," which shows that they had carefully avoided all that might have given offence. They went in for the positive preaching of the gospel , not the negative work of exposing the follies of idolatry.
No miracle rescued Paul's companions. A city official with a gift for handling crowds did. Faith sees who was behind him.
Fortunately for all parties, the town clerk was a man of great tact and admirable policy. He flattered, calmed, soothed, and dismissed the assembly. But to faith it was God using the persuasive eloquence of a pagan official to protect His servant and His many children there.
Once the clerk named the courts, the crowd had nothing left to do. Its real character had already shown itself.
He then dismisses the disorderly and irregular assembly, which had done nothing but show what man is under the power of Satan and moved by his own selfishness.
- Courts. "The law is open" meant real court days in session, with proconsuls on hand. Demetrius had a remedy he could use.
- Order. A charge belongs at the right time and place, before the right judge. Only there can a case end lawfully. A mob in a theatre is neither the place nor the court.
- Blind. The clerk knew the law well, yet he took the myth of the goddess as fact. Intelligence is no shield against the enemy's lie; only truth brought home by the Spirit is.
- Clear. The clerk could send Demetrius to court because there was nothing to try. Paul's men had robbed no temple and insulted no goddess. They preached the gospel instead of attacking idols.
- Kept. God shielded His servants with no miracle, only the tact of a pagan official. The meeting then broke up. It had shown nothing but what man is under Satan's power and his own selfishness.
But if ye inquire anything concerning other matters, it will be settled in the regular assembly.
A riot has filled Ephesus, and the town clerk finally gets a hearing. He gives the silversmiths no verdict, only a procedure — and the Greek word he uses for the lawful assembly, ekklesia, is the same word the New Testament uses for the church.
The clerk does not weigh the silversmiths' complaint. He tells them that the way they raised it was out of order:
He is also more exact. He puts it to Demetrius and the craftsmen with him that their way of proceeding was irregular and dangerous for everyone. A charge must be brought at the proper time and place, and before the right judge. Only there could there be a lawful result. Any other question must be settled in the lawful assembly — and this gathering was not that.
The word translated "assembly" here is ekklesia. Elsewhere the same word is translated "church." So does this verse call a pagan city meeting a church?
It simply means an assembly, and the context decides what kind of assembly it is. For example, the same word is used three times of the riotous crowd at Ephesus, which Demetrius the silversmith and his fellow tradesmen brought together (Acts 19:32, 39, 41). In each of those places it is translated assembly.
The word already had a settled meaning in Greek city life before the church existed:
The word by which the Church is named is itself an example — and hardly a more striking one could be found — of how a word is gradually raised in meaning. We have ekklesia in three distinct stages: the pagan, the Jewish, and the Christian. As to the first, ekklesia was the lawful assembly in a free Greek city of all those who held the right of citizenship, called to handle public affairs. The last part of the word says that they were summoned. The first part says that they were summoned out of the whole population — a select portion of it, which left out the common crowd, foreigners, and those who had lost their civic rights. Both the calling and the calling out are worth remembering when the word is taken up into its higher Christian sense, for much of its fitness for that greater use lies in them.
By pointing to the lawful assembly, the clerk showed what this gathering was not:
The town clerk calms the people. He lets them understand that the authorities would most likely step in because of the riot, and that the men (Gaius and Aristarchus) had done nothing against the law. He then dismisses the disorderly and irregular assembly. It had done nothing but show what man is under the power of Satan and moved by his own selfishness.
The riot was raised in the name of a goddess. One writer names what was really holding it up:
The story of this riot shows us the power of the prince of this world, propped up by the worldly interests that love to hide under the cover of religion. Men must have a religion. Yet how thin a coat of it is enough for the crowd — and the crowd, in turn, is enough for the religion.
The clerk was no believer, and his skill was political. Yet that is not the whole account of what happened:
It was fortunate for everyone that the town clerk was a man of great tact and skill. He flattered the crowd, calmed it, soothed it, and dismissed the assembly. But to faith it was God using the persuasive speech of a pagan official to protect His servant and His many children there.
Notice what the clerk could say about Paul's companions in front of an angry crowd:
It is worth noting that he could say of Paul and his companions that they are "neither temple-plunderers, nor speak injuriously of your goddess" (Acts 19:37, older translation). That shows they had been careful to avoid anything that might have caused offence. They gave themselves to the positive preaching of the Gospel, not to the negative work of exposing the follies of idolatry.
- Assembly, not mob. A charge belongs at the proper time and place, before the right judge. This crowd was none of those.
- Assembly, defined by context. Ekklesia simply means an assembly. Context decides which one: the riot, the lawful city meeting, or the church.
- Assembly, called out. In the Greek city it meant citizens summoned, and summoned out from the rest of the population. Both ideas carry into its Christian use.
- Assembly, dismissed. The crowd settled nothing. It only showed what man is under Satan's power and his own selfishness, with religion as a thin cover over threatened trade.
- Assembly, overruled. A pagan official's tact calmed the city. Faith sees God behind it, guarding His servant — and no charge of temple-robbing or slander would stick.
For also we are in danger to be put in accusation for sedition for this [affair] of to-day, no cause existing in reference to which we shall be able to give a reason for this concourse.
A mob has filled the great theatre at Ephesus for two hours, angry that Paul's preaching is ruining the trade in images of Artemis (Diana). The town clerk closes his speech with the one argument that works: Rome punishes riots, and this crowd cannot say why it came.
The clerk's earlier points were reasonable. This last one carried a threat — and he included himself in it. One writer traces how the argument builds and why the final sentence was enough.
He is more precise. He points out to Demetrius and the craftsmen with him that their action was irregular and dangerous for everyone. They must bring a charge at the proper time and place, and before the right judge. Only there could there be a lawful result. Any other question belongs in the lawful assembly, and this was not one. More than that — "we are in danger". Not only they, but "we", might face a charge of rioting over this day's business. There was no reason they could point to that would account for this gathering. The Romans, as everyone knows, were deeply suspicious of such disorderly gatherings. They often punished them with bloodshed beyond measure. Since his speech closed with such a pointed hint, he had no trouble in dismissing the assembly.
The clerk's phrase — "no cause that we can give to justify this commotion" — is an admission about the whole affair. The crowd had produced noise and nothing else. The man who ended it saw that better than the men who started it.
The assembly dispersed. It had done nothing but shout. It had achieved nothing except to cover itself with ridicule. Its folly was exposed. Its senseless act was rebuked. The town clerk was wise. Demetrius and his fellows had fooled the people. Many a thoughtful person probably saw it the next day, when he reviewed the whole matter calmly.
The mob's slogan named the goddess. One writer looks at what was holding the crowd together.
The history of this outbreak shows us the power of the prince of this world. Worldly interests hold him up, and they love to shelter under the cover of religion. Men must have a religion. Yet how thin a coat of it is enough for the crowd, while the crowd in turn is enough for the religion… In fact the cry that unites the mob is "Great is Artemis of the Ephesians!" But when they come together, it is hard to turn this into anything they can put into words. … until the town clerk brings it to an end. He wonders at what was never in question. He pleads for men who are neither sacrilegious nor blasphemers. And behind it stands the hint of Rome's harsh way of putting down a riot.
Nothing in the clerk's speech is Christian. He flatters the city and worries about the authorities. Yet Paul and the believers there come out of the day unharmed.
Fortunately for all concerned, the town clerk was a man of great tact and admirable judgment. He flattered, calmed, soothed, and dismissed the assembly. But to faith it was God using the persuasive eloquence of a heathen official to protect His servant and His many children there.
Another writer notes that the same speech cleared the Christians of any charge: the clerk dismissed the disorderly meeting, "which had done nothing but show what man is under the power of Satan and moved by his own selfishness."
The Greek word for the crowd in the theatre is ekklesia. The New Testament uses the same word for the church.
The word does cover the riotous meeting at Ephesus that the town clerk dismissed (Acts 19:41). But it also means "called out ones". Archbishop Trench says: "The name we give the Church is itself an example of how a word is gradually ennobled — you could hardly find a more striking one… In a free Greek city, ekklesia was the lawful assembly of all those who held the right of citizenship, for the conduct of public affairs. The second half of the word says they were summoned. The first says they were summoned out of the whole population, a select portion of it — not the general public, not strangers, and not those who had lost their civic rights. Both the calling and the calling out are worth remembering when we take the word up into a higher Christian sense."
- Uproar — A trade grievance dressed up as devotion. The crowd shouted for two hours and could not say why.
- Warning — The clerk's last argument was fear, not truth. Rome punished riots, and no one could account for this one.
- Dismissal — The meeting broke up with nothing to show but its own ridicule. By the next morning many saw the folly.
- Protection — Faith reads the scene another way. God used a pagan official's tact to shield His servant and the believers in that city.
- Assembly — One Greek word covers this mob and the church. The difference lies in who does the calling, and out of what.
And having said these things, he dismissed the assembly.
Acts 19 closes not with an apostle's sermon but with a city official sending a mob home. The riot had roared for two hours over Artemis — the goddess the older English Bible calls Diana. It ended in nothing, and the question is what God was doing in it.
The clerk told the crowd this gathering was not a lawful assembly. Then he warned them that Rome could hold them answerable for the day.
Any other question had to be settled in the lawful assembly, which this gathering was not. More than that, "we are in danger" — not just they, but "we". They could be accused of riot for what happened that day, and they had no reason to give that would account for this gathering. The Romans, as everyone knows, were deeply suspicious of such disorderly gatherings, and often punished them with unlimited bloodshed. His speech closed with such a pointed hint that he then had no difficulty in dismissing the assembly.
The Greek word used for this crowd, ekklesia, is the same word translated "church" elsewhere in the New Testament. One writer tests the point by putting "church" into this verse.
Israel is called "Ecclesia," an assembly, in Acts 7, and the word, being simply an assembled multitude, says just no more than that. The same word appears in Acts 19, where the town clerk "dismissed the assembly." Put "the church" there, and see what nice sense you get!
Another writer sets the two assemblies side by side:
The "assembly in the wilderness" was of Israel; while the assembly of Acts 19:41 was an Ephesian mob. The Church of God is, moreover, called the "House of God," "Bride of Christ," "The Lamb's wife," and so on, applying to it, and to nothing else.
The clerk spoke well. But his whole appeal rested on something false.
This is how man is deceived. He treats as beyond question what is only a delusion of the enemy. No intelligence protects against Satan's lie; nothing does but the truth brought home by the Spirit of God. For this man, otherwise sensible, the great Artemis and the stone that fell from the sky were things that could not be denied.
One writer looks at what was really driving the crowd:
The history of this outbreak shows us the power of the prince of this world supported by the worldly interests that love to shelter under the cover of religion. Men must have a religion; yet how thin a coat of it will do for the crowd, while the crowd in turn will do for the religion.
The man who ended the riot was no believer. Faith still saw who was behind him.
For two whole hours the people shouted, "Great is Diana of the Ephesians." Fortunately for everyone, the town clerk was a man of great tact and admirable policy. He flattered, calmed, soothed, and dismissed the assembly. But to faith it was God using the persuasive eloquence of a pagan official to protect His servant and His many children there.
God had already used others in the same way:
God used these men of high position to shelter His servant, where zeal and courage would have been useless, and might have exposed him to danger.
For all its noise, the gathering settled nothing.
The assembly broke up. It had done nothing but shout. It had achieved nothing except to cover itself with ridicule. Its folly was exposed. Its senseless act was rebuked. The town clerk was wise.
The riot was a real attack, but it broke on nothing. The timing tells the story. The word had already done its work in Ephesus before God let the storm rise.
The enemy, left free and stirred up by the powerful effect of the word of God, raises a great tumult against Paul and the gospel. But it is useless to fight against God. His fury spends itself in shouts and cries… Thank God, it was too late! We have seen that until the work was finished, the enemy was held in check.
- Word first. The gospel had already spread through Ephesus before the riot broke out. God held the enemy back until the work was finished.
- Noise next. The mob shouted for two hours and gained nothing but ridicule.
- Shelter given. God protected Paul through people outside the faith. Men of rank sheltered him, and a tactful clerk talked the city quiet.
- Delusion exposed. The clerk argued well on a false foundation. Being clever is no defence against the enemy's lie. Only the truth brought home by the Spirit is.
- Words matter. The "assembly" here is the same Greek word as "church". The word means a gathering, and the context decides who is gathered.