These going before waited for us in Troas;
Seven named men go on ahead to Troas, and the writer of Acts rejoins the story with one word: "us." Why did the party split? Why Troas? And why does Luke never name himself?
The previous verse named these seven. One writer sees in them how the work spread — through many travelling servants, not one leader.
It was not just that the apostle laboured in all directions. Here we find no fewer than seven companions in service, who were in no way tied to one fixed local sphere. The elders laboured and took the lead locally. Many others besides the apostles moved about with perfect liberty. They sought the blessing of the faithful and the spread of the gospel. Among these labourers we can see at least two classes. A few attached themselves as much as possible to Paul's company, and we have a sample of them before us. But others, like Apollos, worked in a more independent way. They spent less time with him, though they had his entire love and confidence.
One commentator reads their scattered origins as evidence of what the gospel does:
Seven names of those accompanying him are listed in this case, from four different areas. This is a lovely testimony to the unity the Gospel of Christ brings about among people of different backgrounds and cultures.
The seven were not only travelling companions. One account explains their errand and Paul's roundabout route:
The list of names in Acts 20:4 — Sopater, Aristarchus, Secundus, Gaius, Tychicus, and Trophimus — are thought to be brothers carrying the collections made at the different places named. Instead of sailing straight to Syria, he goes round by Macedonia, because of the Jews who were lying in wait for him. At Troas he spent a Lord's day, and even a whole week, to see the brothers.
With the word "us," the narrator puts himself into the scene without announcing himself.
In verse 5 we learn of another deeply attached personal companion, Luke, the inspired writer of this very Book. "These went on ahead and were waiting for us at Troas." This honoured man quietly shows that he too was with the apostle at this time and at Philippi. It will be remembered that it was in these regions that Luke had first become the companion of Paul.
Commentators differ. One takes it that Paul went ahead with the seven, and that Luke stayed on at Philippi for the feast days:
These seven and Paul left Philippi before Luke and whoever was with him. No doubt Luke, who had already spent some time at Philippi, wanted a longer visit there, taking in "the days of unleavened bread," that is, the week following the Passover.
Kelly reads it the other way. He will not guess further, and he is sharp about one popular theory:
Why the party did not move together, why the others went before, and Paul and Luke waited till after the feast, we can only guess. But we see the special association of Luke with the apostle, and we utterly reject the empty explanation Wieseler suggests, that Luke travelled with him as his physician.
This "us" is the only trace Luke leaves of himself anywhere in two long books.
The Gospel of Luke and its sequel, the Acts of the Apostles, are unique in this. They are books of important historical events, and the writer took part in many of them. Yet he never once mentions himself as having done or witnessed anything at all. He does not even mention his own name or existence. The only way he lets us hear of his presence is where he sometimes changes the pronoun from "they" to "we."
And it is not a small role he is covering over:
Through it all he certainly filled no unimportant place — more so, one would say, than others who are named. Yet he keeps to the reserve that marks him all along the way. There is no trace of self-consciousness about him; and how beautiful this is in the inspired historian of such a book as this! What an example for us! Sadly, we are so quick to give all our own doings at least their due value.
The delay was not empty time. Believers already gathered at Troas:
Leaving Philippi, in five days they come to Troas, and there stay seven days. Everywhere assemblies had been formed… We do not know how the gathering at Troas began; but there was one, and we are allowed to look into it a little — not at its discipline or gifts, as in Corinthians, but at its ordinary walk.
- Sent. Seven men from four areas travelled with Paul, tied to no one place, while elders led at home.
- Trusted. They are thought to be carrying the collections made in the places they came from.
- Waiting. Troas already had an assembly, so the delay became a Lord's day and a whole week among believers.
- Rejoining. The word "us" puts the writer back with the party; commentators differ over who waited at Philippi for the feast days.
- Hidden. Luke names everyone but himself — the model of a servant who fills a large place and leaves no trace of self in the record.
but we sailed away from Philippi after the days of unleavened bread, and we came to them to Troas in five days, where we spent seven days.
This travel note gives a date, a route and a stop: a Jewish feast sets the season, the crossing takes five days instead of two, and the company stays at Troas for a week. Why does Luke bother to count the days, and why would Paul — racing to reach Jerusalem — spend a whole week in one port?
The small word "we" shows that the writer of Acts is travelling with Paul again. The "them" he joins at Troas are the companions who sailed ahead.
Verse 4 gives us the names of his travelling companions on this journey back. They went ahead across the sea and waited for him at Troas. In verse 5 Luke again uses the pronoun "us," which shows that at this point he again made one of the party. Paul, Luke and others had a five-day voyage. It brought them again to Troas, where not long before "a door was opened … in the Lord."
The phrase fixes the time of year. One commentator reads the longer stay at Philippi as care for fellow believers.
No doubt Luke, who had spent time at Philippi before (after Acts 16:40), wanted a longer visit there. That visit took in "the days of unleavened bread," that is, the week after the Passover. As a Gentile, Luke would himself attach little importance to this. But his care for the consciences of his Jewish brothers and sisters is beautifully clear (See Romans 14:1-6).
They had made this same crossing far faster once before. Something went against them at sea.
The voyage from Philippi took five days. That was probably longer than anyone expected the ship to take. We know that when they crossed into Europe on an earlier trip, they made the journey between the same towns in two days only. Two days stretched into five proves almost beyond doubt that contrary winds, or something like them, badly held the ship back this time.
A slow voyage need not be a waste. One writer hears God's kindness in it:
Was the Lord saying to His servants, "Come away by yourselves … and rest a while"? For the Lord tenderly cares for His servants, and knows when we have need of rest; and a sea voyage may be a great rest.
Seven days sit oddly beside Paul's hurry.
Why did Paul stretch out his stay in Troas, when we know he was hurrying to be at Jerusalem by the day of Pentecost (Acts 20:16)? He avoided Ephesus on purpose, because he would not let anything delay him on the way. Yet here at Troas he spends no less than seven days.
The delay at sea cost them one meeting. The week was the price of catching the next.
Unexpected delays on the voyage brought the travellers to Troas just too late for the usual weekly gathering of the disciples to break bread. So to share with them in the customary remembrance of Christ, they had to stay a week for the next one.
The seven days also show which day the early disciples gathered, and why.
In Acts 20 Paul and his company are at Troas, where he stayed seven days. He may have stayed to spend the first day of the week with the brothers and sisters there, so that they might break bread together. If that is so, the first day of the week, or Lord's day, was above all the day set apart for the Lord's supper. One thing is clear, even from this Scripture: the apostles and the early disciples had the habit of coming together on the first day of the week for the express purpose of breaking bread. Not for preaching, though Paul did preach, but specially to remember the Lord in His own appointed way.
The same length of stay turns up later in the journey. One commentator reads that repeat as a clue.
The apostle goes on his way, finds disciples, and stays among them at Tyre for "seven days," as we are told. This seems to have been a common length of stay, and we can easily see why. One great reason, I do not doubt, was to enjoy the fellowship of the saints together. It was to spend with the Christians in a new place that day which has the strongest possible claim on a heart that is true to Jesus — the first day of the week.
Commentators differ here. Some say Paul "possibly" stayed for that reason. Others read the breaking of bread as the plain motive of the story.
- Count the days. Luke dates the trip by the feast, counts five days at sea, and marks seven on shore. Each number carries weight.
- Days given to others. The stay at Philippi over the days of unleavened bread shows care for the consciences of Jewish believers. Luke, a Gentile, had no stake in the feast himself.
- Days lost at sea. A crossing once made in two days took five. Contrary winds held the ship back — and a forced delay can be the Lord's rest for His servants.
- Days redeemed on shore. Paul landed too late for one gathering to break bread. He waited a week for the next, though he had just avoided Ephesus to save time.
- Days that set a habit. Seven-day stops keep recurring. They point to the first day of the week as the set time when disciples came together to break bread.
And the first day of the week, we being assembled to break bread, Paul discoursed to them, about to depart on the morrow. And he prolonged the discourse till midnight.
The scene is Troas, a stopover on Paul's journey. Luke slips in one sentence that has shaped Christian gathering ever since. Believers meet on the first day of the week, and the reason given is to break bread. Why that day, why that purpose, and why does an apostle's preaching come second in the sentence?
(Older translations read "the disciples came together to break bread." The writers quoted below use that wording.)
The choice of day is not casual. One writer compares the first day with the seventh, and says what each one marks.
There was no transfer from the seventh day to the first, and the first day is never called the Sabbath. The Sabbath, not the first day, was the memorial of creation rest. In due time the law imposed it as a most holy commandment, bound up in a special way with God's authority and honour. The resurrection of Christ has brought in a new creation, after He had by Himself purged our sins on the cross. So the first day is the day of clear and triumphant life in Christ, who is our life. On it our hearts go out in worship, communion and service. A rest for the body, shared with the ox and the donkey, does not rise to the blessed associations of Christ risen from the dead. The New Testament does not close without stamping this day as "the Lord's day" (Revelation 1:10). That is not the prophetic "day of the Lord", which will bring ever-increasing and solemn judgments from God on the earth. The Lord's day is a day of heavenly grace. It brings us already into the victory of His resurrection, the pledge of our own resurrection or change at His coming.
Another writer points to what marks the day out, and to what it is not.
The first day of the week is marked out for the Christian, not as law, but as blessing. Christ rose; Christ met His disciples on it, and again the following week. On the first day of the week the disciples met to break bread. On the first day they were to lay aside their profits for the poor saints.
Paul was in a hurry. That makes his week-long stop worth explaining.
Why did Paul stretch out his stay in Troas? He was hurrying, as we know, to reach Jerusalem by the day of Pentecost if he could. He deliberately avoided Ephesus because he did not want to be delayed on his journey. Yet here at Troas he spends no fewer than seven days.
The same writer gives the reason for the week's delay.
Unexpected delays on the voyage meant the travellers landed at Troas just too late to join the usual weekly gathering of the disciples to break bread. To share with them in the customary remembrance of Christ, they had to stay a week for the next one.
Luke does not only say that they met. He says why.
This passage implies that this act was the object of their meeting, though other things might go along with it.
The same verse also settles how often they did it.
The early disciples came together not once a year, nor once a quarter, nor once a month, but on the first day of the week to break bread. It is no new theory, no notion of moderns or ancients, but what God has written in Acts 20:7.
One writer weighs Paul's preaching against the supper, and notes the hour they met.
Even the apostle's teaching, precious as it was, is spoken of as a secondary thing. The remembrance of the Lord's love in dying for us, and all that He has brought us into as risen again, was and is the first thing. If there is a chance to minister the word in a way that gathers up the thoughts and affections of the worshippers to Christ, it is good to take it. But the breaking of bread ought to be the first consideration, and the main object of the assembly. The Lord's Supper on this occasion came after sunset.
Luke names who came, and what they came for.
Then it was "disciples" who came together. That suggests people who had followed the Lord faithfully during the week before. They came "together to break bread." Hymns and thanksgiving must have their place. But they are not the reason we come together. We come to "break bread."
So who may lead it?
The New Testament never says that a man must be ordained to administer the Supper. It is clear that Christians came together on the Lord's Day to break bread.
The long speech had a reason behind it.
He knew that dangers were looming ahead. No doubt that made him all the more anxious to give the disciples everything he could in his parting words. So he continued his speech until midnight.
- Day — The first day is the resurrection day, the mark of a new creation, not a transfer of the Sabbath.
- Purpose — On that day the stated object of the gathering is to break bread, not to hear preaching.
- Frequency — The pattern is weekly, not monthly, quarterly or yearly.
- Priority — Preaching, even an apostle's, is secondary to the remembrance of Christ.
- Proof — Paul, in a hurry to Jerusalem, spent seven days at Troas to be there for it.
And there were many lights in the upper room where we were assembled.
Luke pauses his account of Paul's last night at Troas to note the room and its many lamps. Why record the lights at all, and what does an upstairs room say about the church's worship?
The New Testament never mentions a building put up for worship. This verse is one of the few glimpses of where the first believers met.
What kind of places of worship did they have? Did they have churches, or chapels, or temples? Did they have consecrated bells, or buildings? These are everywhere now, but do we find a trace of them in the New Testament? Not a trace. We find them in an upper room in Acts 20:8. Wherever the saints were gathered together to Christ, there — and only there — was the true church or assembly. Was it not so?
This was not for lack of time or money.
Years after Pentecost we never hear of grand or beautiful buildings, which they certainly had the heart and the means to build, if buildings had been any object at all. The most we hear of is "the upper chamber" to break bread in (Acts 20:7-8), or the school of Tyrannus where the apostle taught, or lectured, every day (Acts 19:9). There is not a trace in the inspired record, not a hint, that the church of God tried to copy or outdo the earthly splendour of the Jewish temple.
Translators have not settled on one English word for what these lamps were.
The Greek word lampas in the plural is translated 'lights' only once, in Acts 20:8; several times 'lamps,' and once 'torches,' in John 18:3. Perhaps torches would suit in every place. The word occurs five times in the parable of the ten virgins (Matthew 25:1-8). In India and other parts of the East people keep torches burning with oil, so the same rendering would suit here.
Believers in the earliest days did not all meet at the same hour.
The Lord's Supper on this occasion was celebrated after sunset. In early times, some places observed it before daylight; others after sunset. But here the disciples were not forced to meet in secret.
The same detail also hints at the size of these gatherings and the homes that held them.
It was not, however, an assembly held in secret or in the dark. There were many lamps to light the upper chamber in which they met. By the place in which they came together we see that the assemblies were not composed of very many persons. The upper room in Jerusalem received, perhaps, one hundred and twenty. It appears from various greetings that they met in private houses — in several of them, most likely, if the number of believers required it. But there was only one assembly.
Older English versions say "they were gathered together." Better texts read "we" — which puts the writer in the room with everyone else.
The gathering together of the saints at Troas (Acts 20:7) was the united action of the assembly in that town. The wording used shows a common and habitual custom of the church of God. Our ordinary version hides this by using the third person instead of the first. But the revised and other critical translations follow a better text and restore the true force of the passage: "when we were gathered together to break bread" (verse 7), and again, "in the upper chamber where we were gathered together" (verse 8).
The number of lamps hints at the size of the room — and, with the crowd, at the heat that overcame one young man.
The room they were in must have been of no small size, for there were many lights in that upper chamber. Yet we can imagine that, between the lights and the company, the heat was great. To one person present, sleep was overpowering. Eutychus, a young man, weighed down by sleep, fell from the third story and was picked up dead — not seemingly dead, but dead.
One writer sees a picture in the room itself.
Many lights are spoken of in the upper room where they were gathered. No doubt the upper room reminds us of heaven, the true home of the Church, with its plentiful light for the teaching of the saints. At least it was not lack of light that induced sleep on the part of Eutychus.
- Place: the New Testament records one meeting place for breaking bread — an upper room in a private house. No temples, no chapels, nothing consecrated.
- Plainness: by this point the believers had both the heart and the means to build something grand, and did not.
- Light: the word behind "lights" is closer to torches, the same word used of the ten virgins' lamps.
- Openness: the lamps show a gathering that had no need to hide — not secret, not in the dark.
- People: the better reading is "where we were gathered." That puts the writer among them, and marks this as the assembly's settled habit, not a one-off.
And a certain youth, by name Eutychus, sitting at the window-opening, overpowered by deep sleep, while Paul discoursed very much at length, having been overpowered by the sleep, fell from the third story down to the bottom, and was taken up dead.
It was Paul's last night in Troas, and his farewell sermon ran past midnight. A young man in the window lost his fight with sleep and fell three floors, leaving two questions: was he really dead, and what does sleeping through the Word cost?
One writer sets the physical scene: the lamps, the crowd, the heat. Then he presses the exact words the text uses about the young man.
He knew that dangers were waiting ahead. So he was all the more anxious to give the disciples everything he could in his parting words. So he continued his speech until midnight. The room they were in must have been large, since there were many lights in that upper room. Yet we can imagine that the lamps and the crowd made the heat great. For one man there, sleep was overpowering. For Eutychus, a young man, weighed down by sleep, fell from the third story. He was taken up — not as if dead, but dead. Life was gone. But Paul could restore him to life. He did.
Commentators differ. One writer reads Paul's words over the body as proof that soul and body had not yet parted.
Human weakness is such that all this affected a certain Eutychus. Sleep overcame him while Paul preached at length. He was sitting by the window, and he fell from the third floor. He was picked up dead. Paul breaks off his sermon, goes down, and throws himself on him. He declares that life is still in him. Soul and body had not yet parted. The fall had stunned him, and if the power of God had not stepped in, death would have taken hold of him. Life had not yet gone out of the body. By the Spirit, Paul so works on it that the functions of life are restored. In the case of the child brought back to life by the prophet Elijah, the soul had already left the body, and returned to it.
The writers differ over whether life had fully left him. Neither doubts that the young man lived again.
One writer reads the whole scene as a picture of the church.
In this young man (whose name means "prosperous") we are no doubt meant to see a picture of the Church. It would reach a prosperous state and grow weary of Paul's ministry. When circumstances are hard and demanding, we are usually more awake to the truth. Prosperity on earth tends to make us self-satisfied. It leaves us insensitive to our need of the full truth of the Word of God, especially the heavenly truth that Paul teaches. Then we easily fall from our high position and suffer drastic results.
He got his life back. He did not get the sermon back.
Through the tender mercy of God he recovered his life, but the part of Paul's ministry he lost while sleeping he never recovered. And who knows whether the last part was not the best on that memorable night and very special occasion?
Sleep costs more than a sermon. A sleeping believer is an easy target:
The saint's sleeping time is Satan's tempting time; every fly dares to creep on a sleeping lion. Samson asleep, and Delilah cuts his hair. Saul asleep, and the spear is taken from his very side without his knowing. Eutychus asleep, nods, and falls from the third floor, and is taken up for dead. A Christian asleep may soon lose his spiritual strength… He may fall from a great height of profession down into scandalous practices. Others may then question whether there is any life of grace in him.
The story does not end with the fall, because someone followed him to the bottom.
At Troas, it seems, there was no lack of gift, but conditions of failure and death came in. Eutychus "sank down" with sleep and then "fell down". But Paul "went down". In this he shows the features of the Man Christ Jesus, seen so wonderfully in the second chapter of Philippians.
- Sank down — Heat, a crowd, a late hour and a long sermon. The room was full of lamps; what gave way was human weakness.
- Fell down — From the third-floor window, and taken up dead. Writers differ over whether his soul had left the body. Neither doubts that he lived again.
- Went down — Paul broke off his sermon and went down to the young man, showing the features of Christ seen in Philippians 2.
- Lifted up — Paul gave him back alive. But the part of the sermon he slept through was gone for good.
- Stay awake — His name means "prosperous," and prosperity is what dulls us to the Word. The saint's sleeping time is Satan's tempting time.
But Paul descending fell upon him, and enfolding [him] [in his arms], said, Be not troubled, for his life is in him.
Paul preached at Troas until midnight. A young man named Eutychus fell asleep in a window seat, dropped to the ground, and the others took him up dead. Paul went down, held him, and told the frightened crowd that "his life is in him." What had happened to Eutychus, and what did those words mean?
Luke, a doctor, wrote this account. One commentator presses that fact against every reading that softens the fall into a fainting spell.
Eutychus was sitting on the window seat. Deep sleep came over him as Paul spoke at great length, and he fell from the third storey to the bottom, and they took him up dead. We must admit that the inspired physician who wrote this account was a most competent witness. It is not just that he appeared dead, or that they took him up for dead, as some have said. He was really dead. But Paul went down and fell upon him, as the prophet of old famously did, and clasping him said, "Do not be alarmed, for his life (soul) is in him." In these words the apostle had no desire to make light of the power of God which had worked in this miracle.
Writers do not agree on whether Paul's words describe a soul recalled or a soul still present. One reads the sentence as spoken after the miracle had already been done, so that only God's power was holding the soul in place:
It may help to compare Luke 8:49-56, where "the spirit" of the Jewish girl had departed. But the Lord's words were enough; and "her spirit returned." Here it was not so. "His soul is in him," said the apostle — though divine power alone could keep it there, or prevent the break-up that was about to follow.
Another takes the words at face value: soul and body had not yet parted. He then contrasts this with the child the prophet Elijah raised:
The separation had not yet taken place. The fall had stunned him, and if the power of God had not stepped in, death would have taken him in its grip. Life, however, had not yet gone out of the body; and by the Spirit, Paul so works on it that the functions of life are restored. The bonds between soul and body are re-established. In the case of the child restored to life by Elijah (1 Kings 17:21-22) the soul had already left the body, and returned to it.
The word rendered "life" here is the word for "soul." That is why a body without it is a body people mourn over.
Paul said, "His soul is in him," to tell them not to be troubled about the young man whose body they took up (Acts 20:10). This only shows that the usual trouble and mourning at death happen because the soul and spirit have left the body.
The verbs in the story move in one direction. Eutychus sank down, then fell down — and the apostle followed him down.
If we turn to Acts 20 we see what took place at Troas when Paul was there. Apparently there was no lack of gift, but conditions of failure and death came in. Eutychus "sunk down" with sleep and then "fell down." But Paul "went down." In this he showed the features of the Man Christ Jesus, so wonderfully seen in the second chapter of Philippians.
Paul acted as other servants of God had acted in the presence of death. They prayed first, and did not command in their own strength.
Peter did not dare to say to the body of the dead disciple, "Tabitha, arise," until he had knelt down and prayed. Nor did Paul, when he fell on the dead Eutychus and held him in his arms.
A death in the room could have ended the meeting.
The power of God was so displayed through Paul that this episode did not break up the meeting or distract everyone from Paul's message. Instead their hearts were comforted and strengthened, so that they settled down and listened till daybreak... The story is marked by the absence of anything ceremonial and official, but it pulsates with power. In popular Christianity today the ceremonial holds the field and the power is absent.
One writer draws a warning from the sleeper. Mercy gave his life back. It did not give back the hours he slept through.
Through the tender mercy of God he recovered his life, but the part of Paul's ministry which he lost while he was sleeping he never recovered. And who knows whether the last part was the best on that memorable night and very special occasion?
- Fall. Luke, a physician, records a real death — not a faint, and not a body only thought to be dead.
- Descent. Paul went down after the one who had gone down, taking the place of dependence, not of command.
- Life. The word for "life" here is the word for "soul." God's power alone held soul and body together.
- Difference. Commentators differ: had the soul left and returned, or never left? Both agree that only divine power kept the young man alive.
- Comfort. The interruption ended in strength, not panic. The meeting stayed and listened till daybreak — but the hours Eutychus slept through were gone for good.
And having gone up, and having broken the bread, and eaten, and having long spoken until daybreak, so he went away.
The night at Troas ends with one line that readers have argued over ever since. Was the bread Paul broke the Lord's Supper, picked up again after the young man's fall, or a meal a tired man ate before a long journey?
The verse describes one man acting, not a company sharing. Kelly builds his reading on that, and on the particular word Luke uses for eating:
Some have supposed that when Paul had gone up and broken the loaf and eaten, it was the interrupted celebration of the Lord's Supper. This appears to me opposed to what the context suggests. Scripture describes it, not as fellowship, but only as the personal act of the apostle. No doubt it was "the loaf" of the Lord's Supper. But the apostle took that loaf here for his own refreshment. He had spoken so long, and in such trying circumstances, and he was about to go out on his journey. The word used for his eating is rightly translated "eaten", or literally "tasted". We can understand, then, why the Lord avoids such a word when He calls on His disciples to "take, eat" at the institution of His supper. Again, the apostle's "conversing" with them a long while, till daybreak, much better suits a meal than the assembly.
Elsewhere Scripture ties the Supper to the whole gathering, never to one man:
In verse 11, after the incident with Eutychus, Paul returned to the upper chamber, broke the bread, ate, and conversed till break of day. This does not sound like the Lord's Supper, which is always referred to as the action of the whole assembly. Compare verse 7, "when we were gathered together to break bread"; and 1 Cor. 10:16, "The bread that we break." But in verse 11 it is Paul who breaks the bread, as he does in Acts 27:35, after the fourteen days' fast on board ship. Here the apostle eats of the loaf to satisfy his hunger, before the long journey he was to start at dawn. So eating in this case is not sharing in the feast of remembrance, but taking a meal. "Conversing" is the fitting word for that, and it differs from the more formal discourse that had gone before.
Commentators differ. Stuart reads the bread as the Supper itself, shared once the young man was alive again:
The apostle assured them that Eutychus was alive again. Joy must have filled the whole company at hearing that. And surely with full hearts they all took part in the Lord's Supper which followed.
Whatever the bread was, the accident did not break up the meeting:
The fall and death of Eutychus interrupted, but did not dissolve that meeting. This we learn from verse 11. The breaking of bread expresses the unity of the whole assembly, and it was that which gathered the saints at Troas — not to hear Paul speak. He did speak, and speak twice. That gives divine warrant for ministry both before and after the Lord's Supper, if the Spirit of God leads a servant this way, when the assembly is gathered together to break bread.
Paul spoke past midnight and on till sunrise. Kelly sees liberty in that, not a fixed rule:
The prime call was to remember the Lord in the breaking of bread. Yet the apostle did not break divine order here. He not only "discoursed" (not "preached"). Since he was leaving the next day, he also drew the discourse out till midnight. The principle is, "Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom" (2 Cor. 3:17). The Lord's Supper has its own deep solemnity and thanksgiving. Even that does not shut out a long discourse in special circumstances.
Since an apostle breaks the bread here, some have argued that only an appointed minister may do it. Darby answers:
For an apostle to break the bread, when he was present (Acts 20:11), was a very natural thing, and it seems to me very suitable. But I do not see that this proves that the ministry alone had the right to do so.
Grant reads the whole night as a picture of the church's present season:
After his revival the breaking of bread took place as well as eating, then continued ministry until the break of day. In these last days God has given some reviving of the truth of the assembly. For our present comfort He provides the breaking of bread and fellowship, as well as enough ministry until the break of day — the coming of the Lord.
- Bread — Kelly reads the broken loaf as Paul's own refreshment before his journey. Scripture presents it as one man's act, not the assembly's.
- Difference — Commentators differ. Stuart takes it as the Lord's Supper itself, shared with joy once Eutychus was alive again.
- Unbroken — The fall interrupted the meeting but did not end it. Paul went back up and carried on.
- Liberty — They gathered to remember the Lord. The teaching before and after shows freedom in special circumstances, not a rigid rule.
- Daybreak — Paul spoke till dawn, then left. Bread, fellowship and teaching carry the church through the night until morning comes.
And they brought [away] the boy alive, and were no little comforted.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And we, having gone before on board ship, sailed off to Assos, going to take in Paul there; for so he had directed, he himself being about to go on foot.
After a whole night of teaching at Troas, Paul sent his companions ahead by ship and walked the next stretch himself. Luke gives us the plan but not the reason, so two questions are left open: why take the slower road, and why go alone?
The wording marks this out as something Paul had settled in advance. One writer notes that Paul planned the harder road for himself:
At this point, beyond any question, we see that Paul had arranged to be apart from his beloved companions, who went on board ship. He did so even though it meant a more tiring journey for himself by land.
The plan also shows the quiet authority Paul had among his fellow travellers:
Paul chose to go alone from Troas to Assos. All through the history we see that he arranged the willing services of his companions, by the power the Spirit gave him over them. This was not, of course, as their master — yet it was more complete than if he had been.
Assos was a harbour town on the west coast of Asia Minor. Paul's land route and the ship's sea route met there:
A seaport in Mysia, in the west of Asia Minor, on the north shore of the Gulf of Adramyttium, twenty miles from Troas. A glance at a map will show that Paul, by walking from Troas to Assos, could be there as soon as the ship.
Writers put the distance at somewhere between twenty and twenty-five miles.
Paul was not withdrawing from people because he disliked them. He was taking time that public work tends to crowd out:
There is a time for fellowship with others, and there is a time also for being alone. Perhaps no believer has ever enjoyed heart fellowship with his brothers as the apostle did, yet he realised that this was a season to be alone... His habitual godliness would lead him now and then to look for such a chance to unburden his spirit, and to renew in a marked and full way his sense of dependence on the grace of Christ. These secret dealings with the Lord were needed all the more, because the work demanded energy and prominence in front of people.
The same instinct shows up elsewhere in Scripture, and one writer sets Paul's walk beside the last journey of the prophet Elijah — who tested whether his successor Elisha would stay with him or turn back:
Paul once walked from Troas to Assos — about twenty-five miles — alone, sending his companions round by sea. He had his own reasons for avoiding conversation just then. With Elijah and Elisha it was different.
Paul was heading for Jerusalem. One writer pictures the questions that would have filled his mind on the road:
He was going to Jerusalem — a place of so many memories, and perhaps of his most real conflict. What was waiting for him there? What lay beyond it? Would it affect the rest of his course? Would it change those plans of future service that reached as far as the furthest bounds of the west? No doubt he had plenty to occupy him with the thoughts that crowded in over those twenty-five miles or so to Assos.
Another writer links the walk to what Paul said soon afterwards to the elders from Ephesus:
It seems that his reason for this is explained in his address to the Ephesian elders soon after... Paul was clearly deeply concerned in heart about all he had to say to them. His own long walk alone gave time for thoughtful consideration of these things.
Scripture gives no reason. Kelly notes the guesses others have made: Paul's health, kindness to his companions, or visits along the road. Another writer will not guess at all:
Why he did this has led to many guesses. But since nothing more than guesswork can be offered to the reader, and guesswork based on no known fact, it is better to leave all that alone.
The timing of Paul's setting out also throws light back on his seven-day stay at Troas:
When the first day of the week came, the disciples broke bread together. The apostle was so unwilling to lose another moment that he set off at daybreak on foot for Assos. He did this even though he had spent the whole night in the company of the saints. It is clear, then, that Paul stayed the seven days to be present at the gathering of the church in Troas.
- Arranged. The separation was Paul's own plan, made in advance, and his companions willingly fell in with it.
- Costly. He took the harder road and left the easier one to the others. He walked while the ship sailed round.
- Alone. Paul valued fellowship more than almost anyone. He still knew there is a season to be alone with the Lord.
- Necessary. A servant out in front of people needs hidden dealings with God. They keep him leaning on the grace of Christ.
- Unexplained. Scripture never gives the reason. Writers point to the burden of Jerusalem and to the talk with the Ephesian elders, but others say guessing is better avoided.
And when he met with us at Assos, having taken him on board, we came to Mitylene;
A single line of travel log — Paul rejoins his friends at Assos, and the ship carries them all on to Mitylene. The meeting was planned. Paul had sent the others ahead by sea and walked to Assos alone. Why would a man so devoted to his companions travel apart from them?
Walking cost Paul no time at all. A reference note shows why:
Seaport in Mysia, in the west of Asia Minor, on the north shore of the Gulf of Adramyttium, 20 miles from Troas. Acts 20:13-14. A glance at a map will show that Paul, in walking from Troas to Assos, could be there as soon as the ship.
Paul chose the harder road, on foot and by himself. One writer reads this as the other half of a life given to people:
There is a time for being with others, and there is a time also for being alone. The apostle enjoyed fellowship of heart with his brothers as perhaps no other believer ever did. Yet he realised that it was now a season to be alone. We can hardly doubt that this was a common thing for someone so busy in public work as Paul. His habitual devotion would lead him now and then to seek such an opportunity. There he could unburden his spirit. There he could renew, in a marked and full way, his sense of dependence on the grace of Christ. These private dealings with the Lord were all the more necessary. The demands of the work called for energy and a prominent place in front of people.
What filled Paul's mind on that road? One writer pictures the walk as the room where he carried a burden:
At this moment solitude likely suited him better than company. That was true even of men as close to him in spirit as his companions were then. The future of that Church, so dear to him as the Church of Christ, was, as we know from what follows, on his heart. Of all people on earth, he was the one who carried this burden (2 Cor. 11:28-29)… He was going to Jerusalem, a place of so many memories, and perhaps of his most real conflict. What was waiting for him there? What lay beyond this?… No doubt he had enough to occupy him. Thoughts crowded in over those twenty-five miles or so to Assos.
Not every commentator is willing to name Paul's motive. One writer refuses to guess at all:
All went by sea to Assos, except Paul, who travelled there overland, a distance of about nineteen miles. Why he did this has led to many guesses. But no one can offer the reader more than guesswork here, and guesswork founded on no known fact. So it is better to leave all that alone. At Assos he rejoined his companions, when they sailed for Mitylene.
So commentators differ. Some read the walk as a deliberate withdrawal. Others hold that Scripture does not say.
The whole group moved according to a plan Paul had set. That pattern runs through his ministry:
Paul chose to go alone from Troas to Assos. All through the history we see him arranging the willing services of his companions. He did this by the power the Spirit gave him over them. He was not their master, of course, yet he directed them more completely than if he had been. He is, under Christ, the centre of the system in which he works, the centre of energy. Christ alone can by right be the centre of salvation and of faith. It was only as filled with the Spirit of God that Paul was the centre even of that energy.
Mitylene is the first of several place names in quick succession. One writer warns against reading meaning into them:
There is no spiritual reason to dwell on the associations that Assos or Mitylene, Chios or Samos, Trogyllium or Miletus might suggest. They come before us here only as the changing points of the apostolic journey. Historical questions would distract us from that, interesting as each of them is.
- Alone — Paul sent the ship ahead and walked. He planned his solitude; he did not stumble into it.
- Burdened — the miles gave room for what pressed on him: the church's future, and what waited in Jerusalem.
- Silent — the text gives no reason for the walk, and guesswork about his motive is better set aside.
- Rejoined — at Assos his friends took him on board again, back among the companions whose journey he had planned.
- Led — Paul guided his companions by the Spirit's power, never as their master; Christ alone is the centre of salvation and faith.
and having sailed thence, on the morrow arrived opposite Chios, and the next day put in at Samos; and having stayed at Trogyllium, the next day we came to Miletus
Acts 20:15 is a sailor's log: three days of short coastal hops down the Aegean, ending with Paul's ship at Miletus. That last stop matters most, because Miletus lay near Ephesus — and Paul had decided not to go there.
One writer explains a word that older English left unclear:
"And [having stayed at Trogyllium] the day after we came to Miletus. For Paul had determined to sail past Ephesus, so that he might not have to spend time in Asia." … "By" is unclear, as it might mean by that way. "Past" means without stopping there.
The same writer refuses to make the place-names carry more than they can:
There is no spiritual reason to dwell on the associations that Assos or Mitylene, Chios or Samos, Trogyllium or Miletus might suggest. They come before us simply as the changing points of the apostle's journey. If we filled our minds with historical questions, they would divert us from it — interesting as each of them is.
The choice was not coolness toward Ephesus. It was the opposite:
Paul's heart was filled with what was of the deepest importance for the saints in Ephesus. Even so, he came near them at Miletus, rather than at the capital of Asia… He was so known and loved and loving that a visit to Ephesus would have meant a stay of some length among them. He therefore made Miletus his place of brief stay, so that nothing should hinder his desire to be at Jerusalem for the day of Pentecost.
Another writer sees a man who knew his work was ending:
It is clear that the apostle's mind was full of the circumstances he was in — the apparent end of his career. This thought probably influenced him when he went alone on foot to Assos. It was also the cause of his long speech at Troas.
Paul's shortcut did not cut him off from the Ephesians. The ship's own schedule opened a window:
The most important stage of this journey is Miletus, though the sacred historian carefully notes the different places they pass or call at… But as the ship was to be held at Miletus for some time, he sends for the elders of the church at Ephesus to meet him. The distance between the two places is said to be about thirty miles, so the journey there and back would take two or three days. Still, they had enough time for their meeting before the ship sailed. So the Lord thinks of His servants and makes everything work together for their good and His own glory.
Commentators differ over the deadline itself. Some read Paul's rush to Jerusalem as devotion running ahead of guidance:
He did not himself go to Ephesus, for he was anxious to get to Jerusalem by the time of the feast of Pentecost, when many would be present. He clearly felt he could make some useful impression on the Jews. But God had given him no assurance of such results. His love for his own nation evidently influenced him greatly, rather than the leading of God.
Others hold both together. God willed the journey and blessed it, but natural affection was what moved Paul:
I believe that the hand of God was in this journey of Paul's. In His sovereign wisdom He willed that His servant should undertake it, and also have blessing in it. But the means used to lead him into it, according to that sovereign wisdom, was the apostle's human affection for his own people, his own flesh and blood. He was not led into it by the Holy Spirit acting on the part of Christ in the assembly… Paul's affection was good in itself, but as a spring of action it did not rise to the height of the work of the Spirit.
- Route. Chios, Samos, then Miletus — three plain sailing days. The writers read the names as stages of a journey, not as hidden meaning.
- Reason. Paul sailed past Ephesus, not by way of it. The people he loved there would have kept him for a long stay.
- Reach. Miletus lay about thirty miles off. The ship's delay gave the Ephesian elders time to come and go before it sailed.
- Risk. Pentecost at Jerusalem set the deadline, and commentators differ on it. One sees love for his nation outrunning God's leading. Another sees God's hand in the journey, with natural affection as the motive.
- Result. A port that was never the destination became the place where Ephesus came to Paul — the Lord making everything work for His servant's good and His own glory.
for Paul thought it desirable to sail by Ephesus, so that he might not be made to spend time in Asia; for he hastened, if it was possible for him, to be the day of Pentecost at Jerusalem.
Luke pauses the travel diary to explain a decision. Paul sailed past Ephesus, a city full of believers he loved, because he wanted to be in Jerusalem for Pentecost. Two questions follow: why skip Ephesus, and what drew him to the feast?
Older English translations say Paul chose to "sail by" Ephesus. That wording can mean two things. One commentator explains the difference:
"By" in the Authorized Version is ambiguous, since it could mean by that route. "Past" means without stopping there.
Avoiding Ephesus was not coldness toward the believers there. The reason was the opposite:
He had a strong affection for the many believers at Ephesus, and many ties with them. Had he gone to the city itself, he could not have left them without a long delay. So he chose to sail past Ephesus, so that he would not defeat the purpose of his journey to Palestine. He made Miletus a brief stopping place instead, so that nothing should hinder his desire to be at Jerusalem for the day of Pentecost.
The haste makes an earlier stop stand out. Days before this, Paul had stayed a full week at Troas. One writer sets the two facts side by side:
It is striking that the apostle waited, because he was in a great hurry to reach Jerusalem by the day of Pentecost, and his time was precious. His time was so short that he could not visit the important assembly at Ephesus. Instead he sent for the elders to meet him at Miletus (Acts 20:16). Still, Paul stayed in Troas seven days for the breaking of bread.
Another writer draws attention to the same contrast and treats it as a deliberate signal in the narrative — the apostle who would not lose a day at Ephesus, and who later made the elders travel thirty miles to him, spent a week at Troas:
He deliberately avoided Ephesus because he would not be delayed on his journey. Yet here at Troas he spends no less than seven days... Are we not bound to gather from these facts, that some important consideration was of sufficient weight with the apostle to cause him to stay so long in Troas?
Crowds gathered in Jerusalem for the feast. Commentators differ over how to read Paul's eagerness to be there. One sees natural love for his own people running ahead of God's leading:
He did not himself go to Ephesus, because he was anxious to get to Jerusalem by the time of the feast of Pentecost, when many would be present. He seems to have felt that he could have some good effect on the Jews, though God had given him no assurance of such results. What moved him so strongly seems to have been love for his own nation, not the leading of God.
Another sees the same journey as the ordered travel of a servant filled with the Spirit. In this reading, the ship's delay at Miletus is God's provision:
Paul, being filled with the Spirit, gives directions for the journey... He arranges not to go to Ephesus, though that was a central place, because he had set his heart on being at Jerusalem on the day of Pentecost. But since the ship would stay some time at Miletus, he sends for the elders of the church at Ephesus to meet him... So the Lord thinks of His servants and makes everything work together for their good and His own glory.
Whatever drove the schedule, the city was not simply left behind:
But he could not leave Ephesus aside with no token of his lasting love, and the stay at Miletus gives him the opportunity he wanted. Ephesus was only thirty miles away, with a good road between; so he "called the elders of the church to come to him," for his last tender greeting.
- Past, not by. "Sail past" means Paul did not stop at Ephesus at all. The older wording could be misread as the route he took.
- Love was the risk. He skipped Ephesus because he loved the believers there. A visit would have cost him time he did not have.
- Haste had one exception. No time for Ephesus, yet seven days at Troas for the breaking of bread: what he would not sacrifice tells you what he valued most.
- The motive is debated. Some see love for his nation running ahead of God's leading. Others see a servant filled with the Spirit ordering his journey. The verse itself gives only his eagerness for the feast.
- Nothing was wasted. At Miletus he sent for the Ephesian elders. The city he sailed past still received his farewell.
But from Miletus having sent to Ephesus, he called over [to him] the elders of the assembly.
Paul is hurrying to Jerusalem, so he sails past Ephesus, the city where he had worked longest. From Miletus he still sends inland for its elders, which raises two questions: why avoid a church he loved, and why call only its leaders?
This was not coldness. Love for those believers would have cost him time he did not have.
He had a strong affection for the many saints at Ephesus, and many ties with them. If he had gone into the city itself, he could not have left again without a long delay. So he chose to sail past Ephesus, rather than frustrate the purpose of his journey to Palestine.
The elders had to travel to reach him, and none of them grudged the trip. That meeting also left us something we would not otherwise have.
They came at once, even though the journey was thirty-six miles. But which of them would not have been glad to take that trouble when the apostle asked for them? … It is the only speech of the apostle on this third journey that has come down to us. … We can see why it was worth keeping. It shows us the spirit in which Paul worked, and the different lines of teaching he handled.
Paul sends for the elders of one church at Ephesus, not for leaders from the whole region — though some later readers assumed he did.
This does not fit the usual habits and thoughts of men — not to say their selfishness. So from ancient times the idea slipped in that he meant the elders of all the churches round about. But we must not tamper with the word of God like that for a moment. The apostle sent to Ephesus and called to himself the elders of the church there, not of the churches around. There may have been many meeting-places in Ephesus. But Scripture never speaks of the assemblies in a city, always of the assembly, or church, in it.
Later in the same speech Paul gives these men another name. The change settles a long argument about church office.
Paul called for the elders of the church at Ephesus, Acts 20:17, and in Acts 20:28 he called them "overseers." … These two passages prove something. Today, in the Christian world, one bishop usually takes charge of a large district, with what men call lower clergy under him. It was not so then. Each city had more than one bishop or overseer, and at that time there was only one assembly in a city.
He chose his audience to fit his message. The warning he carried was for the men who watched the flock.
He did not call all the saints over, only the elders, who had the care of the saints. He had warnings to speak to them about the days that were coming, warnings that would do them much good. So, while these words are for all the saints, those who have the interest of Christ's saints at heart should heed them most of all.
Yet Paul's heart reached past the men standing in front of him.
It is evident that in sending for them he had on his heart not only those elders, but all the Christians of the place, and even of the whole province. … When he speaks to them of "you all," he does not mean the elders only.
Paul warned these overseers that the danger would come from among themselves. So he pointed them past their own office to something that outlasts it.
Elders were appointed to give godly care in the undivided local assembly — to shepherd the flock. Any attempt to appoint them now would not only lack the necessary apostolic authority; it would also ignore the divided state of the church. … The elders were no security for the church. The apostle warned that from among them men would rise up, speaking perverse things. So he commended them, not to some church authority or council, but "to God and to the word of his grace" — a resource that all Christians still have. Happily, there are servants of God today who care for the saints … and who devote themselves to the work of the ministry without any apostolic appointment, as the household of Stephanas did.
- The detour. Paul sailed past Ephesus because love for those believers would have delayed him. His schedule set the route, not his feelings.
- The summons. He called the shepherds, because the words he carried were warnings about the flock they guarded.
- The title. Paul later calls these same men "overseers" — one office, several men, one city.
- The reach. He sent for elders, but his "you all" takes in the whole assembly, and the speech has come down to us for everyone.
- The resource. No one can appoint elders now, so the flock still stands where Paul left it: not with an authority or a council, but with God and the word of His grace — which every Christian still has.
And when they were come to him, he said to them, *Ye* know how I was with you all the time from the first day that I arrived in Asia,
Paul's ship has stopped at Miletus, and he sends to Ephesus for the elders of the assembly there. He does not open with teaching. He points to their own memory of how he lived among them — which raises the question of why a farewell should begin with himself.
This address survived when the rest of Paul's preaching on that journey did not.
From Miletus he sent to Ephesus to summon the elders of the assembly there to meet him. They came at once, though it meant a journey of thirty-six miles for them... It is the only address of Paul's from this third journey that has come down to us... We are familiar with it, and we can see why it was right to preserve it. It shows us the spirit in which Paul worked, and the different lines of teaching he handled.
Paul called one assembly's elders, and he called them with authority.
It is certain that neighbouring towns or churches are completely ignored here. Only the elders of Ephesus were summoned, and only they are addressed... Notice that the apostle summoned the elders with authority, and that they responded to his call without question.
The word Paul uses for their knowing is not guesswork or hearsay.
epistamai means, first of all, to know something with the knowledge that comes from being near it... it is therefore the knowledge gained by experience — like that of an expert.
So he is not asking them to take his word for it. They had watched him themselves.
Talking about his own service did not come naturally to him. Need forced it out of him.
Here the apostle does not hold back from reminding them of his own service among them. This was a habit of his, as we see clearly in the First Epistle to the Thessalonians and elsewhere. Only burning zeal and a good conscience before God account for it. Nothing could be further from his character than liking to speak of himself... They knew very little of what the glory of Christ demands, of what the walk and service and devotedness of a Christian should be... They needed not only teaching, but — what is so much more powerful along with it — a living example to form and fashion the ways of Christ in them.
Paul had authority to command, yet he rests his charge on how he lived among them at every point. The order of these opening verses matters.
Paul could speak to them with apostolic authority, but he bases his instructions on what he had been among them at all seasons... In Acts 20:18 he speaks of his manner of life, and in Acts 20:19 of his service to the Lord. In Acts 20:20 he speaks of his service to the saints, and in Acts 20:21 of his testimony to all men. Is this order not especially important in days of wholesale departure from the truth? Nothing can be right if the manner of life is inconsistent with the word ministered; everything takes its character from this.
What Paul can do here, not every worker can do. Two sets of eyes have been watching.
The work of every servant is under the eye of God. It is also, to some extent, under the eyes of those among whom he works. He is happy when, as in this case, he can remind the saints of its character with a good conscience.
A life and a message must match, or the message loses its force.
Our teaching and our appeals have no more value than our lives give them. Of the scribes and Pharisees of our Lord's day He had to say, "The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses' seat, so do and observe whatever they tell you, but not the works they do. For they preach, but do not practice"... How deeply solemn! The teaching was good, but the teachers did not match the teaching. Happy is the man — Samuel, Paul, or anyone else — who can honestly point those who know him best to his manner of life from first to last, as his service draws to a close.
- Known — Paul's word for their knowing means knowledge gained by nearness and experience, not by report. He rests his case on what they had watched themselves.
- Manner — He speaks of his manner of life first, before his service, his care of the saints, or his preaching. Nothing else can be right if the life contradicts the message.
- Motive — He disliked speaking of himself. He did it only because these believers needed a living example as well as teaching.
- Measure — Every servant's work lies under God's eye, and partly under the eyes of those he serves. Our teaching is worth only what our lives make it worth.
- Moment — Paul reviews a consistent life as his service closes. That order — life first, then work — matters most in days of wholesale departure from the truth.
serving the Lord with all lowliness, and tears, and temptations, which happened to me through the plots of the Jews;
Paul's farewell to the elders of the Ephesian church does not open with a list of results. It opens with the spirit in which he had worked among them — lowliness, tears, and the plots of enemies — and that order is itself part of the lesson.
One writer traces the sequence running through the whole address.
In Acts 20:18 he speaks of his manner of life. In verse 19 he speaks of his service to the Lord. In verse 20 it is his service to the saints, and in verse 21 his testimony to all men. Is this order not of special importance in days of wholesale departure from the truth? Nothing can be right if the way a man lives contradicts the word he preaches. Everything takes its character from this. Then all true service must have the Lord Himself in view. It is from Him and to Him. He must be the source, the motive, and the object of all done in His Name... So that God's order was, first the Lord, then the saints, then the world.
Paul names the One he served, and the choice of words matters. It also rules out a humility that is only skin-deep.
Then he says, "Serving the Lord" — not, strictly speaking, serving the saints. The Lord was before him, not the service of humanity. If we serve according to this pattern, we keep the Lord as the sole Object of our service. And we serve "with all humility" — humility of mind, not of behaviour. A man may be only a hypocrite, humble on the outside but not in mind.
Paul could have pointed to learning or results. He puts forward something else, and the hardships named in the verse help produce it.
It is not learning or success in ministry which he puts before them, but serving the Lord with all lowliness of mind. How often that service puffs up the novice! What dangers surround even the most experienced! Lowliness of mind is of all moment in it, and the Lord helps by the very difficulties and griefs which accompany it.
The tears were not weakness or breakdown. They put Paul in the footsteps of the One he served.
The Lord Himself was a Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. He wept over hardhearted sinners, and wept with broken-hearted saints. Paul, following in His steps, was a man of tears. He watered his service with tears, for he speaks of "serving the Lord with all lowliness and with many tears." Moreover, he wept over the saints as he foresaw the failure and sorrows that would overtake the Church after his death.
Older translations read "with all lowliness of mind" and "with many tears." The ESV has "with all humility and with tears."
The third mark is one no ministry report would list — the trials that came through the plots against him.
A pattern ministry does not mean one that leads from success to success in a continual round of triumph. Because our own circumstances are easy, we must not imagine that Christian service is a triumphal procession of large meetings and eager crowds... He had all kinds of testings and trials, and those very testings proved what he was made of spiritually. If you hear that someone is serving and running into endless difficulties, you need not always shake your head and say he is no good. He may be good in extraordinary measure.
Kelly points out who stood behind those plots, and how Paul spoke of them.
Paul was not ashamed to speak of his tears, any more than of the trials which came upon him through the plots of the Jews. They were the constant opponents of the gospel, filled with special bitterness against Paul.
The small words "all" and "many" carry weight here. And the closing question turns Paul's example into an invitation.
So he served not only humbly but with "all humility of mind"; and not only with tears but with "many" of them. He served with a tender heart and one from which the curse of pride, which ruins so many, was wholly absent. He went out weeping as he scattered the precious seed, and he will come again rejoicing, bringing his golden sheaves. What a pattern servant! And why should we not follow his example?
- Order — Life first, then the Lord, then the saints, then the world. Nothing later in the list can be right if the manner of life contradicts the message.
- Object — He served the Lord, not humanity and not a congregation. The Lord is at once the source, the motive, and the goal of the work.
- Spirit — Humility "of mind," not of behaviour, since a hypocrite can wear outward lowliness. Paul's credential is not learning or success but a lowly mind.
- Cost — Tears mark a servant who feels what he handles. He follows the One who wept over hard hearts and with broken ones.
- Proof — The plots and trials were not signs of failure. They proved what he was made of, and the Lord used them to keep him low.
how I held back nothing of what is profitable, so as not to announce [it] to you, and to teach you publicly and in every house,
Paul is giving the elders of Ephesus a last account of how he worked among them. Two claims stand out: he held back nothing useful, and he taught in two settings — in public and in people's homes.
Holding nothing back has a cost. One writer names what it takes.
Further, he could say that they knew how he kept back nothing that was profitable. This needs faith, and without faith, faithfulness will fail. The apostle was completely above the fear of man. He withheld nothing that was for their good. He announced it to them and taught them publicly and in their houses, testifying to both Jews and Greeks about repentance toward God and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ.
So what counts as profitable? One writer says the apostle owed his hearers everything he had received — and that every truth needs its right place.
The apostle knew very well that what he received he had to pass on; he was a steward "of the mysteries of God" (1 Cor. 4:1). He later wrote to this very assembly a letter that unfolds the highest truth, and that subject was no doubt part of his spoken teaching. So he counted it, no less than the other parts of revelation, profitable to his hearers. The fact is, under the Spirit's guidance, it is impossible to turn to any part of revealed truth that is not profitable. "All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable," the same writer says in another letter (2 Tim. 3:16). There is need to emphasise that word all. No doubt there are chapters in God's word — as well as doctrines — of special importance, but the point to keep in mind is that all are necessary. We would think a face sadly deformed if any feature were missing. Giving the other features extra prominence would not make up for it; and so not only should every truth find a place, but its right place, and that in proper proportion.
Paul limits his claim to what was profitable. One writer draws out what that implies.
He kept back no ministry that was profitable, which means that he did keep back what was unprofitable. That is a further example to follow honestly. From house to house and publicly, to the few or the many, he had the good and the profit of all at heart.
Two verbs are used, not one, and commentators read the first differently. One takes "showed" as demonstration that then has to be driven home:
He was not content with showing; he explained and enforced what he had shown. A teacher may fully understand a mathematical problem and be able to work it out on the blackboard. Passing that knowledge on to his pupils is another thing. Now this is what the apostle, the "teacher of the Gentiles," sought to do... To this end the apostle, not content with public ministry, went from house to house. He no doubt found on his visits that much he had said in his public address had not been grasped. Are we not often surprised, when we question our hearers, to find how little they have retained?
Another writer takes the showing as the life Paul lived in front of them.
We only teach effectively if our own lives match what we say. The apostle Paul illustrated this well. He referred to it twice when speaking to the elders of Ephesus: "I have showed you, and have taught you," and again, "I have showed you all things" (Acts 20:20, 35). He illustrated in his life what he taught with his mouth. This is the effective way of teaching, in Paul's day or in ours.
The verse names two settings, and one writer sees two kinds of work joined in one man.
The teacher unfolds truth; the pastor applies it. The teacher enlightens the understanding; the pastor looks to the state of the heart. The teacher supplies the spiritual food; the pastor sees what use is made of it. The teacher's work is mostly public; the pastor's work is mostly private. When the two are joined in one person, the teaching gift gives the pastor immense moral power. The pastoral element gives the teacher a tender affection.
The same writer notes which half tends to be dropped, and what is lost with it.
A man may perhaps give us a short address on the Lord's day, or a lecture on a weekday; but where is the "house to house" side of the question? Where is the close, earnest, diligent looking after individual souls day by day? Very often the public teaching shoots completely over the head; it is the house to house teaching that is sure to come home to the heart. How often something said in public is entirely misunderstood and misapplied, until the loving pastoral visit during the week supplies the true meaning and the right application.
For one writer, private visiting is not the lesser half. It is what keeps public ministry sound.
I think the visiting part quite as important, if not the most important part of the work: it is said, "publicly, and from house to house."... The clock strikes the hours, and that serves the passers-by. But the works inside make the good clock, and make the striking and the hands right. I think it should be your main work; indeed, I do not believe anyone can minister well without it. The springs of love, and the use and application of doctrine, are fed there; minds are understood. Otherwise we are apt to get essays, theories or thoughts... I dread much public testimony, and altogether so, if there is no private work.
- Faith first. Holding nothing back takes faith. Without faith, the fear of people wins.
- All is profitable. Every part of revealed truth is useful. Each truth needs its right place and proportion; what a servant holds back is the unprofitable.
- Show, then teach. Showing is not enough. The truth has to be explained, pressed home, and matched by the teacher's own life.
- Two settings, two gifts. Public teaching unfolds the truth; house-to-house work applies it to the individual heart. Much of a public address is not grasped until a visit follows it up.
- Inside the clock. Private work feeds public ministry. Without visiting we get essays and theories; the works inside make the striking right.
testifying to both Jews and Greeks repentance towards God, and faith towards our Lord Jesus Christ.
Paul is saying goodbye to the leaders of the church at Ephesus. He sums up everything he preached among them in two words: repentance and faith. What is repentance? Why does it point to God, while faith points to Christ? And does one come before the other?
Paul names two groups. One writer notes how that message would land on the first of them:
The Jew would strongly resent that message. He would say it was obvious that the Greek should be told to repent, but to come and tell them, the people of God, to repent was very objectionable. But Paul calmly and plainly told the truth of God in both directions.
Repentance is not what many people assume. One writer clears away the wrong ideas, then defines it and explains the word "toward":
It is not a mere change of mind on certain points (this would confuse it with faith); for the Lord preached, "Repent and believe in the gospel" (Mark 1:15). It is not simply a conviction of having done wrong; for when the crowd were cut to the heart, Peter urged them to repentance (Acts 2:38). It is not sorrow for sin, for "godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret" (2 Cor. 7:10)… But it is a change of mind, a judgment of self, of one's ways and sins, shown by a changed life. It is God's gift; the risen and ascended Christ gives it (Acts 5:31)… It gives God His right place in the conscience of His creature, so it is "toward God."
Why is repentance directed one way and faith another? The answer lies in two different needs. The name Paul uses matters too:
It is against God we have sinned, and it is He who has passed judgment on our sins. So when we are convicted of our guilt, it is to Him we turn with confession and self-judgment. In this state our one need is to learn the way of salvation, just as the jailer, conscience-stricken, ran to Paul and Silas and cried, "Sirs, what must I do to be saved?" They answered by presenting Christ… But they used the full title — the Lord Jesus Christ. That shows they preached a full gospel: the gospel about His person, His death and resurrection, and His present exaltation as Lord at the right hand of God.
The verse names two things. Where God is at work, each one guarantees the other:
Repentance and faith are inseparable where there is reality… As there is no genuine repentance without faith, so there is no faith of God's elect without repentance. Repentance toward God is the soul judging itself and confessing its ways as in His sight. Faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ is the soul receiving the good news God sends concerning His Son.
Does the order of the words set an order of events? One writer says repentance cannot come first:
But people badly abuse that sentence (Acts 20:21), putting repentance before faith. If it means faith in the full efficacy of Christ's work, then of course it can and will come after repentance. Repentance cannot go before faith. When a man brings a testimony, it produces no effect unless people believe it.
Two opposite errors twist this verse. Neither one is of God:
The low views which make repentance a human work as a preface to faith are no less objectionable than the so-called high views which merge everything in faith, making repentance no more than a change of mind. Neither legalism nor antinomianism is of God, but the grace and truth which came by Jesus Christ.
If both must be present, must they be equally strong? The answer is no. Here is what repentance sounds like when it speaks:
Peter repented when he said, in the presence of the Lord, "I am a sinful man." The tax collector repented when he said, "God, be merciful to me, a sinner!" The prodigal repented when he said in the presence of the father, "I have sinned against heaven and before you." The thief repented when he said, "We are receiving the due reward of our deeds." There may be different measures of repentance, just as there are different measures of faith… but wherever there is a work of God in the soul, these two things will be found.
- Same message. Paul told Jews and Greeks the same two things. The religious hearer needed to repent as much as the Greek did.
- Repentance is Godward. Not regret, not sorrow, not a mere shift of opinion — it is self-judgment that gives God His right place in the conscience.
- Faith is Christward. Once we turn to God in confession, our one need is the way of salvation. The answer is a person: the Lord Jesus Christ, in His death, resurrection and present exaltation.
- Never separated. No genuine repentance exists without faith, and no faith without repentance. Repentance cannot come first, since a message nobody believes does nothing.
- Real, not uniform. The depth varies from soul to soul, yet where God works, both are always there.
And now, behold, bound in my spirit *I* go to Jerusalem, not knowing what things shall happen to me in it;
Paul's farewell to the Ephesian elders turns from his past work among them to the road ahead. He is going to Jerusalem, held by something he cannot shake off. Two questions follow. What was binding him? And how could he be so sure of the destination while knowing nothing of what waited there?
The phrase behind "constrained by the Spirit" can be read two ways, and translations still divide over it. One writer weighs the older reading against the usual sense of the words.
Some of the older writers take the phrase to mean that Paul went "led captive by the Spirit." But the usual sense of the words, and the way the following verses say "the Holy Spirit" instead, both point to his own spirit. Paul was not free in his spirit for any other direction than Jerusalem, whatever it might cost.
Reading it as Paul's own spirit does not leave God out of the story. It changes how He is at work in it.
Paul (Acts 20:22) was not, I believe, bound "in the Spirit," but in spirit, his own. It was the overruling hand of God upon him, not the actual guidance of the Spirit of God. God so ordered it for His own divine purposes. Morally, Paul was not going for testimony; he was going with the collections for the saints.
If it was his own spirit, something had gripped it. One writer traces that grip to Paul's love for his own people, and to the words he wrote about them to the Romans.
Behind his burning desire to go up to Jerusalem stood the mighty constraint of love for his own beloved people. His heart, filled with the love of God, yearned over them. He expresses this love so fully in his letter to the Romans. "I am speaking the truth in Christ — I am not lying; my conscience bears me witness in the Holy Spirit — that I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart. For I could wish that I myself were accursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my brothers, my kinsmen according to the flesh" (Romans 9:1-3).
The verb itself carries a shadow. One writer sets Paul's tone here beside his tone elsewhere, and hears the difference.
He is going to Jerusalem, bound in spirit. Surely this is not the Holy Spirit, since the word he uses could not apply to Him. Nor does it speak of the sweet and happy constraint of love, though love is in it — deep and constraining love. But along with that love there is certainly a foreboding which casts a shadow over him. The word "bound" reminds us of a sacrifice tied for the altar. Yet if that were all, and he felt the Lord was leading him this way, his spirit would be brighter. Contrast his words to the Philippians. There he writes: "Even if I am to be poured out as a drink offering upon the sacrificial offering of your faith, I am glad and rejoice with you all" (Philippians 2:17).
Paul had been warned, and more than once. What he did with the warning is the question.
The apostle had no lack of warning. He said so himself to the elders from Ephesus: the Holy Spirit testified to him in every city that chains and afflictions were waiting for him. Yet he clearly treated this as a note of the danger ahead, not as personal direction he had to obey. His mind was made up. Whatever the danger, whatever the suffering, he would go through with it.
Even those who question the journey refuse to belittle the man who made it.
But none of these things could move him from his purpose. His devotedness itself is precious, though we may question if it was rightly directed on this occasion.
The chains came, exactly as forecast. So did something no one forecast.
Still, God was in it all. During these very bonds Paul wrote the letters which give us — as we are glad to know — the fullest and brightest light of Christ and on heavenly things ever given for the lasting instruction and comfort of the saints of God.
- Bound — most writers here read it as Paul's own spirit, not the Holy Spirit. Some earlier writers read it the other way, and translations still differ.
- By love — his longing for his own people tied his spirit. That same longing made him wish himself cut off from Christ for their sake.
- With a shadow — "bound" carries foreboding. It lacks the brightness he shows in Philippians, where he speaks of being poured out as an offering.
- Past warning — the Spirit's testimony in every city told him the cost. He went with his eyes open, treating it as danger to face, not a route to change.
- Under God's hand — the chains came as promised. Out of them came the letters that give the church its clearest light on Christ.
only that the Holy Spirit testifies to me in every city, saying that bonds and tribulations await me.
Paul is saying goodbye to the elders of the church at Ephesus, and he does not know what waits for him in Jerusalem. He knows only what the Holy Spirit keeps telling him in city after city: chains and hardship.
The verse just before this says Paul went "constrained by the Spirit." Which spirit is meant? One writer answers by looking at what was pushing him to Jerusalem.
When he speaks of going "bound in the spirit" to Jerusalem, it is his own spirit he is speaking of, not the Spirit of God. His love for Israel was so deep and so real that it urged him forward. He went despite warnings from the Holy Spirit "in every city" that going there would end in imprisonment and suffering. Notice that he fully believes that it was the Holy Spirit who was giving these warnings.
The wording of the two verses points the same way.
Normal usage, and the separate naming of "the Holy Spirit" in the verses that follow, point to his own spirit... Paul was not free in his spirit to go in any direction but Jerusalem, whatever it might cost.
Paul did not know the shape of what was coming, only its character. One writer traces both the cost of it and what God did with it.
He did not know the exact shape of what was coming. Still, he lets them know that he went in with open eyes to the weight of trouble ahead. That trouble paused only for a short time, and then it all ended in a martyr's death. He knew as well that, whatever the end might be, chains and hardships came first. To a heart that loved the church, what could be more serious for the testimony of the Lord and for the saints? Yet God was in it all. During these very chains Paul wrote the letters that give the fullest and brightest light on Christ and on heavenly things ever given. And we are glad to know it: that light was given for the lasting teaching and comfort of God's saints.
Commentators differ here. Some point to how Paul himself took the testimony: as news about the road, not as an order to change route.
Certainly the apostle did not lack warning, as he said himself to the elders from Ephesus... But he clearly took it as a note of the danger waiting for him, not as a personal order he had to obey. He had made up his own mind to go through with it, whatever the danger and whatever the suffering. The Master had done the same, in a perfection no one can match, for His infinite work, at any cost.
Others find the repeated warnings unusual. Even so, they do not conclude that Paul was outside God's will.
The Holy Spirit does not usually warn of danger. He leads in the path of the Lord, and if persecution comes, He gives strength to endure it. Here the warnings came to Paul again and again. His friends beg him not to go up. Nothing changes his mind. They fall silent, far from satisfied, and say, "The will of the Lord be done." I do not doubt that it was His will. But it was His will in order to work out purposes Paul did not know through the understanding the Holy Spirit gives. He only felt pressed in spirit to go, and ready to suffer all things for the Lord.
Kelly goes further elsewhere. He holds that Paul went past a warning from God — and then he turns the lesson away from Paul and onto us.
He had gone where God had warned him not to go. And if this is true of him, what shall we say of ourselves? Do not allow your lips to say strong things about the apostle Paul; but let your own conscience, and let mine, take heed to our own ways, and above all beware of this — that we are not found slighting one word that comes to us from the Holy Spirit. Let us weigh and treasure every expression of God's mind.
Whatever the warnings meant, Paul's own answer to them was settled devotion.
"Now," he has to add, "the Holy Spirit testifies to me in every city that imprisonment and afflictions await me." There was more trouble for the pattern servant, but he says, "None of these things move me." He was a man of extraordinary steadiness and faith... Here was a man devoted to death for the name and the service of the Lord.
- Bound — What pushed Paul to Jerusalem was his own spirit, moved by love for Israel. The voice naming chains and hardship was the Holy Spirit's.
- Warned — He believed the warnings came from God. He took them as news of what the road held, not as a fence across it.
- Disputed — Commentators differ on whether he read them rightly. Some see a servant walking into the cost with open eyes. Others see a check he pressed past.
- Weighed — The best use of the passage is not to judge Paul. It is to watch our own ways and never brush aside a word from the Spirit.
- Fruitful — God was in the chains. Out of that prison came the letters that give the brightest light on Christ and heavenly things the saints have ever received.
But I make no account of [my] life [as] dear to myself, so that I finish my course, and the ministry which I have received of the Lord Jesus, to testify the glad tidings of the grace of God.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And now, behold, I know that ye all, among whom I have gone about preaching the kingdom [of God], shall see my face no more.
Paul is saying goodbye to the elders of the church at Ephesus. In one sentence he tells them they will never see him again, and names the one theme of all his years with them: the kingdom.
One commentator notes that the manuscripts differ over how this verse names what Paul preached.
It is his farewell. His work, as far as being present among them, was ended. The best and oldest manuscripts and versions, apart from the Vulgate and others, read simply "the kingdom." Others add "of God," which is meant even if not expressed; others "of Jesus," and "of the Lord Jesus."
One writer reads this parting as the close of Paul's public work, with lasting effects on the church he left behind.
Solemn departure, the end of the apostle's public work. He speaks of it as a finished work. He announces that from now on, because he is gone, evil would prevail in the outward assembly of God on the earth. But he assures the faithful that God and the word of His grace would be enough to build them up and give them an inheritance among those who are sanctified.
Paul preached grace, and one writer notes he pressed the Lord's authority just as firmly.
Though Paul emphasised the gospel of the grace of God, he insisted just as much on the authority of the Lord Jesus. That authority belongs to the kingdom of God. And that kingdom has an important present aspect that we cannot ignore. Now he tells the Ephesian elders that he knows they will not see his face again. That fact gives more solemn weight to his message for them.
Paul names one theme for all his work among them. One writer argues that this theme has dropped out of much preaching since.
Here we have another and distinct topic, one that modern preaching easily overlooks — "the kingdom." Anyone who examines the Acts of the Apostles will find how large a place it holds in the preaching, not of Peter only but of Paul. We may be sure it filled the preaching of all the other servants of the Lord in those early days. It is a grave blank where the kingdom is left out as it is now. Unfaithful preachers today rob the saints of the future as God has planned it. And the gospel of God's grace suffers by it too.
Commentators differ on which kingdom Paul was announcing. One writer, asked which he meant, ruled out the options put to him and pointed to what is still to come.
Neither, as I believe. It is that coming intervention of God to change the heavens and the earth. The Lord will start and establish it when He comes in visible power and glory, to the joy of all the earth, of Israel and all the nations… Neither the gospel nor the church wiped out the apostle's value for this grand truth. That truth has faded from the testimony of many who were once zealous.
Another writer holds that Paul was not pointing only to the future.
This clearly has a present bearing. When he spoke of the things to come, no doubt he spoke of the kingdom that will one day be set up for all to see. But he also kept before them that in receiving Christ as Lord they had already come under the authority of God. He showed them what it meant in practice to be subject to God's holy will.
The kingdom is not the starting point. It follows what he has just said about the gospel of the grace of God.
If we are to learn the truth of God, we must first receive the gospel of the grace of God (Acts 20:24). Grace having met our deep need, our souls are then helped on by the preaching of the kingdom of God (Acts 20:25). We learn that God has marked out our course down here under the authority of His dear Son. As we live in subjection to the Lord Jesus, righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit mark all our ways.
- Farewell. Paul's work among them was finished. His absence would let evil spread, yet God and the word of His grace would still build them up.
- Weight. He will never speak to them again, so every word of this charge carries added weight.
- Kingdom. Paul sums up his whole ministry among them in one word: the kingdom. It fills the book of Acts. One writer warns that dropping it leaves "a grave blank."
- Two readings. Commentators differ. One takes the kingdom here as God's coming intervention in visible glory. Another sees the present authority of Christ over His people.
- Order. Grace first meets our need; the kingdom then teaches us to live under the authority of God's Son.
Wherefore I witness to you this day, that I am clean from the blood of all,
Paul is saying goodbye to the elders of the church at Ephesus. Before he goes, he calls them as witnesses: no one's blood is on his hands.
The wording is formal, like a man swearing to his record in front of witnesses. One writer points out what Paul twice refuses to do:
"Therefore I testify to you this day that I am innocent of the blood of all. For I did not shrink from declaring to you the whole counsel of God" (verses 26, 27). The apostle could in this way solemnly attest his faithfulness to the trust the Lord had given him. (Compare Ezekiel 3:18-20). At least twice (verses 20, 27) he plainly disowns such holding back. Some who bear the Christian name have not been ashamed to claim it as a virtue. They say they learned it from Him whose death tore the veil. And He puts all His true followers in the light of life, the light that makes everything visible.
Behind the phrase stands an image from Ezekiel: a watchman whose one job is to warn. If the warning is ignored, the guilt is not his.
So he could say he was "innocent of the blood of all." He was like the faithful watchman of Ezekiel 33:4. That watchman's duty was to warn when the enemy or the sword was coming, but he himself was clear if no one heeded his warning. A solemn thought! The watchman would expose himself to harsh criticism, ridicule, contempt, and danger. But, the apostle adds, "I did not shrink from declaring to you the whole counsel of God."
Another writer ties the two roles together: Paul had been faithful both as a servant and as a lookout.
Along with this, having told them they would see his face no more, he called them in as his witnesses that he was innocent of the blood of all, for he had not shrunk from declaring to them the whole counsel of God. As a watchman, as well as a servant, he had been faithful to God and to their souls.
His claim rests on what he said a few verses earlier: he kept back nothing useful. The stress falls on the word all.
First of all, in verse 20, he says, "I did not shrink from declaring to you anything that was profitable." The apostle thought of his hearers and of their profit... It was to this very assembly that he later wrote a letter unfolding the highest truth. Its subject was surely part of his spoken teaching too. So the apostle counted it no less profitable to his hearers than any other part of revelation. The fact is, under the Spirit's guidance it is impossible to turn to any part of revealed truth that is not profitable. "All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable," the same writer says in another letter (2 Timothy 3:16). There is need to emphasise that word all. No doubt there are chapters in God's word — and doctrines — of special importance, but the point to keep in mind is that all are necessary. A face with any feature missing we would think sadly deformed.
"Counsel" here is not advice. It is what God planned and has now let us in on.
He says in effect, "You have all this blessing. The gospel has brought you into this favoured place of nearness and relationship. God's authority is settled in your hearts. You are under His rule. You obey His word. But remember that everything God has done, He has done with certain great counsels or purposes in mind." He has made those purposes known to us. They have not yet come to fruition. They are not yet carried out as they will be in the ages to come. But He has shown them to us now, so that we may live our whole lives on earth in the light of what God purposed before the foundation of the world.
The word "shrink" implies there was a reason to. Telling the whole of God's purpose is what made Paul's life difficult.
This theme of his ministry — the whole counsel of God — was the one that stirred up such furious opposition from many of his Jewish hearers. In the end it led to his imprisonment. So he says, "I did not shrink from declaring." If only he had avoided this part of his ministry, he might have had a far more peaceful time in his service and escaped many troubles. For God's counsel involved bringing in the Gentiles, according to the truth of the church. He knew this, yet he did not flinch.
Declaring everything meant declaring the hard things as well as the welcome ones.
He could say, in front of people who knew his ministry well: "I am innocent of the blood of all; for I did not shrink from declaring to you the whole counsel of God" (Acts 20:26-27). He was no one-sided preacher. He delighted to tell people of the love of God, but with all due seriousness he also warned them of the wrath of God.
- Posted. Like Ezekiel's watchman, Paul had to sound the warning. If people ignored it, the guilt was theirs, not his.
- Warned. He held back nothing profitable. Note the word all: a face missing a feature looks deformed, and so does a partial ministry.
- Whole. "The counsel of God" is His purpose from before the foundation of the world. He has made it known so we can live in its light.
- Costly. Leaving that part out would have bought him a quieter life. The whole counsel brought opposition, and he did not flinch.
- Clear. He told people of God's love and God's wrath alike. So he could call witnesses and say no one's blood stained his hands.
for I have not shrunk from announcing to you all the counsel of God.
Paul is saying goodbye to the elders of the church at Ephesus, knowing he will not see them again. His words raise two questions: what does "the whole counsel of God" cover, and why would anyone hold back from declaring it?
The phrase is often read as a synonym for the gospel message. One commentator keeps apart three things Paul names in this speech: grace, the kingdom, and the counsel of God. They are not one and the same.
It is a mistake to think that "all the counsel of God" means no more than God's plan for saving men, unfolded in the gospel. "The gospel" is indeed the preaching of salvation in a dead and risen Saviour. "The kingdom," whether in its moral form or in its full display, has its own distinct force in God's reign, as we have seen. "All the counsel of God" rises still higher. It takes in His purpose to its utmost extent.
The difference is not just theory. Grace deals with our state as sinners. God's counsel goes higher.
It is of the greatest importance to see this. There is the counsel of God's will for believers, as well as the grace of God that brings salvation for all men. We usually know His saving grace better than the counsels of His heart. The saving grace of God meets our condition as sinners, and we must of course begin with what meets our need. But the counsels of God reveal what God has purposed to bring about for the satisfaction of His own heart.
Paul lists his themes in an order. One writer reads that order as a lesson for anyone who teaches.
First, in dealing with souls, conscience work has to go forward. So he begins with repentance and faith. Either one without the other might drive a soul to despair. God does not want that, so an object — the Lord Jesus Christ — is set before them. With that, the gospel of the grace of God comes in season… Then, alongside the gospel, he preached the kingdom… After these great subjects comes, last in order, the whole counsel of God. This teaching suits only Christians.
Paul's words admit there was a pull to hold back. The reason was not the difficulty of the subject. It was the cost.
Why should he have shrunk from it? We might have thought Paul would have felt nothing but delight in explaining such wonderful truths. But it was exactly this that brought on him the anger of the orthodox Jew. Why did trouble follow him everywhere? Because he did not shrink from declaring the whole counsel of God. This lifts the Christian into heavenly blessings far beyond anything made known to the Jewish people.
The verse opens with "for." It gives the reason for what Paul had just said: he is clear of everyone's blood. One commentator sets this beside Ezekiel.
So the apostle could declare, in all seriousness, that he had been faithful to the trust the Lord gave him (compare Ezekiel 3:18-20). Twice at least (verses 20 and 27) he plainly disowns such holding back. Some who bear the Christian name are not ashamed to call that reserve a virtue learned from Christ. But His death tore the veil, and He puts all His true followers in the light of life — the light that makes everything visible.
Because Paul declared all of it, no later generation waits for more. One writer uses this verse to explain why the letters to the seven churches in Revelation hold no new doctrine.
Suppose these letters had brought fresh doctrinal revelations. They were written after the deaths of Paul, Peter, James and others of the apostles and prophets. That would have proved that God had not given, in their day, all the truth needed for building up the body. In that case Paul could not have declared all the counsel of God (Acts 20:27)… These letters in fact confirm what both Peter and Paul said. They call those they address to be faithful to the truth already received, and to expect nothing more.
God tells us His purposes now, long before He carries them out.
He has made those purposes known to us. They are not yet carried out as they will be in the ages to come. But He has made them known to us, so that we may live our whole life on earth in the light of what God purposed before the foundation of the world.
- Whole — "All the counsel of God" is not the gospel under another name. It rises higher, to the full extent of God's purpose.
- Ordered — Paul moved from repentance and faith, to grace, to the kingdom, to the counsel of God. That last part is teaching for Christians.
- Costly — Declaring it is what drew hostility on him. That is why he calls it not shrinking.
- Clear — He held nothing back. So he could say he was clear of their blood.
- Complete — He declared all of it, so nothing more is owed us. God made His counsel known so we can live now in the light of what He purposed before the world began.
Take heed therefore to yourselves, and to all the flock, wherein the Holy Spirit has set you as overseers, to shepherd the assembly of God, which he has purchased with the blood of his own.
Paul has called the elders of the church at Ephesus down to Miletus, and this verse is the heart of his farewell charge. In one sentence he tells them who appointed them, what to do, and what the flock cost God.
The men Paul summoned in verse 17 are called elders; here he calls them overseers. That single fact settles a long argument about church order.
The Greek word episkopos is once translated "overseer," in Acts 20:28. This use proves that the "elders" and the "bishops" were the same. Paul called for the elders of the church at Ephesus, Acts 20:17, and called them "overseers." … Each city had more than one bishop or overseer, and at that time there was only one assembly in a city.
The order of the words matters. Paul does not begin with the work; he begins with the worker.
"Take heed therefore" — does that mean, be diligent in your work? No, it means "to yourselves." As he later wrote to Timothy, it is, first of all, "Take heed to yourself." This is the first responsibility. Neglecting it has left so many servants powerless, and has caused so many shipwrecks.
Two limits sit inside the phrase "all the flock." No one in the elder's own place is left out, and no one beyond it is added.
There might be, and in general were, several overseers. But the duty of the overseer is to take heed "to all the flock" where he lives. This matters all the more, because it humbles the spirit while it enlarges the heart… It works against the self-importance of "my people," and against the rivalry when one thinks of another and "his people." … Yet the elders had to do with all the flock where they lived, not elsewhere. Eldership was a local charge.
Human hands had a part in making these men elders. Yet Paul traces their appointment past every human hand.
No one could claim to be an elder unless he was properly appointed. This is admitted, and even pressed. Scripture is plain that no one could appoint except the apostles, or someone an apostle expressly commissioned for the task. … But once appointed, they could be described, as here, as men whom the Holy Spirit set as bishops or overseers. His sanction went with the apostle's choice.
Commentators differ on what this means for today. Some say the way of appointing elders has closed. On that view there can be no such elders now, "either in the source of their authority, or in the sphere of its exercise" (Morrish Bible Dictionary). Others hold that the Spirit's action continues:
It is only God the Holy Spirit who can make and appoint overseers over His flock and He still does so today.
Paul is careful to say whose sheep these are. Ownership changes how the work feels on both sides.
It is God's flock, not yours; and you are not to lord it over as if it were your own property. If it were your heritage, you would have certain rights. But the truth is that anyone who stands in the position of an elder carries a heavy responsibility. … When this is truly weighed, it makes a wonderful change in the mind, tone, and temper — a change both in those who tend the flock, and in those who are cared for.
The work itself falls into three parts. Elders take heed to their own walk and to the walk of God's people. They "feed the church of God," seeking "the welfare of their souls." And they "watch," guarding the flock from attacks outside and corruption within (Hamilton Smith).
The closing clause is the hardest phrase in the verse. Some translations read "the blood of His own," meaning the blood of God's own Son.
This puts not the least cloud over the truth that He who shed His blood for us was God. If the Saviour here was not God, His purchase would have only a creature's value. It would be nowhere near enough to win the assembly for God, as it was and as it is. Being a divine person, His gaining it to Himself by blood is infinitely and eternally effective.
That price sets the worth of every single person an overseer deals with.
How blessed to realize that every member of this great company has been "purchased" at such a cost! God Himself places infinite value on each one.
- His Spirit appoints. No one makes himself an overseer. Where an apostle appointed, the Holy Spirit's sanction went with the act.
- His servant watches himself first. "Pay careful attention to yourselves" comes before the flock. Neglect here has wrecked many a servant.
- His flock, not yours. The sheep belong to God. Oversight is a trust, never ownership, and it covers the whole flock in one place, not a favoured few.
- His blood sets the price. The price has infinite value because the One who shed the blood was God.
- His worth becomes your motive. Because each person cost God that much, the weight of the responsibility is the measure of the privilege.
[For] *I* know [this,] that there will come in amongst you after my departure grievous wolves, not sparing the flock;
Paul says goodbye to the Ephesian elders, and warns them in the same breath. Two questions follow. Who are these wolves? And what protects God's people once the apostle is gone?
Paul does not guess. He speaks as a man shown what is coming, and what he sees is damage, not growth.
Then he speaks as a prophet. He knows for certain that after he leaves this life, fierce wolves — heartless unbelievers — will get in among the flock and do great damage.
He promised no coming success:
He did not say, "You are going to have a big revival, everybody is going to be converted, and everybody is going to join the church." He said, "after my departure fierce wolves will come in among you, not sparing the flock."
Paul gives the elders a reason to feed the church: a wolf wants nothing good for the sheep.
Feed the church of God! ... Why do wolves come among the flock? They come to kill, to scatter, and to destroy — to damage the flock as much as possible.
The animal itself shows what "not sparing" means:
They are very destructive among the sheep, worrying and destroying more than they can eat. This makes the wolf a fit emblem of the wicked, who molest the sheep and lambs of God's flock, and even creep in among them.
These wolves "come in among you." They are not an army at the gate. They get inside, and they get inside by looking like they belong.
The wolf comes to the flock in sheep's clothing. He makes a fair profession, and it deceives the saints. So the Apostle Paul can warn us that after his departure wolves would come in among the saints, "not sparing the flock" (Matt. 7:15; Acts 20:29). The wolf cannot snatch the sheep out of the hand of the Shepherd, but he can seize and scatter the sheep.
Verse 29 and the verse after it are often read as one warning. Commentators differ: William Kelly holds that they describe two separate kinds of men.
Other commentators tell us that fierce wolves are not persecutors, but false friends — real enemies who come in among those who bear the name of the Lord and do not spare the flock. But those commentators are wrong to identify the fierce wolves with the men described in verse 30: "from among your own selves will arise men speaking twisted things." These are clearly two different classes of evil men. The first are more violent, the second more subtle. The first seek their own pleasure and gain. The second do the deadlier work of speaking twisted things to draw the disciples away after them. To use the flock for selfish ends is wicked; to put self and error in the place of Christ is worse still, though it looks more respectable.
Paul lived long enough to see the beginning of it. His own later letter records the collapse he had predicted.
In Paul's address to the Ephesian elders, sorrow at his own departure was mixed with a sadder warning of evil that would soon come to the church of God... And it began so soon, and spread so fast, that in his second letter to Timothy he writes of it as a well-known fact: "You are aware that all who are in Asia turned away from me."
What guards the flock now is God Himself, and food from His word.
The fierce wolves and the selfish, erring leaders are still with us, and we need to be on our guard against them. Paul points to the great safeguard against these evils: "I commend you to God, and to the word of His grace, which is able to build you up." God is more than a match for anything the enemy may bring against us. Depending on Him with constant watchfulness will keep us safe. But we need to be strengthened and built up by the word of His grace. If we rely on the word of men, we will be led astray. If we feed on the Word of God's grace, we will be able to resist every attack of the enemy.
The wolves do real damage, but they do not get the last word over a single sheep.
However great our failure may have been, and though fierce wolves may have come in among the Lord's people, not sparing the flock (Acts 20:29), yet at last all His sheep will come home. Not one will be lost, and not one missing on that great day.
- Foreseen. Paul speaks as a prophet. He knows what follows his departure: not revival, but wolves.
- Ferocious. Wolves come to kill, scatter and destroy, destroying more than they can eat: that is "not sparing."
- Disguised. They come in among the flock in sheep's clothing, deceiving the saints by a fair profession.
- Twofold. Kelly divides the violent wolves of verse 29 from the subtler men of verse 30, who twist the truth to gain a following. Commentators differ on this.
- Guarded. Against both, Paul points to God and the word of His grace. It builds the flock up, and every sheep still reaches home.
and from among your own selves shall rise up men speaking perverted things to draw away the disciples after them.
Paul is warning the elders of the church at Ephesus. The next danger, he says, will not come from strangers but from men inside their own circle, who want a following of their own.
Paul had just warned of wolves coming in from outside. This second danger was already inside, and it worked the other way.
These would not "enter in" like the grievous wolves; they were already within the church. The wolf scatters. These men would seek to gather, but not around Christ. They wanted to gather followers around themselves. In doing so they would draw them away from simple loyalty to Christ.
Paul's phrase, "twisted things," appears in other translations as "perverted things." Commentators show how a small twist works.
The Darby translation gives, "speaking perverted things." There is an element of truth in it, but a clever twist perverts it. That again and again has taken place in the history of the church. This has happened even with men who may be elders. If self comes in, along with a desire to be first, there is a tendency to teach something very new with a little twist. Soon he becomes the leader of a kind of party in the church of God.
The effect of that twist is to move a believer's confidence from Scripture onto a man.
They would not directly deny the truths of Scripture. They would pervert them by giving them their own meaning. It was a different meaning from the one the apostles had taught the saints. This would throw their followers back on them, so that they would look to their leaders for teaching instead of to the word of God.
Paul was speaking to overseers. The danger would come out of that very group.
The very elders were to become a danger and an evil to themselves and to the disciples. Not they only, but they above all. Out of them the clergy (not gifted men) soon emerged, unknown while the apostles lived. Had the word of Christ dwelt in the saints richly, such a change could not have happened. People looked to man, and the word of God's grace became more slighted, forgotten, and powerless.
Commentators see two halves of one process.
The evil here is the reverse of what the Apostle speaks of in Acts 20:30. There he warned the Ephesian elders that trouble would come from leaders. Here he says it comes from disciples… One evil leads to the other. It begins with Christians forming parties around leaders. It ends with those leaders teaching perverse things. This principle showed itself at Corinth, and it has been at work through the whole history of the church with the same sad results.
The men Paul describes may not be frauds at all. That is what makes the warning so serious.
These men may well be true believers, but they give a twist to their teaching, and that twist perverts the truth… They attract people to themselves instead of leading them to Christ. In these words Paul sketched the future of what we know as Christendom.
Commentators draw a practical conclusion from this.
Perhaps this is why Scripture gives no instruction about continuing the office of elder in an official way beyond the apostle's lifetime… In the case of men speaking perverted things, an official appointment would only give approval to what is wrong.
Paul did not point the elders to the church's judgment. He did not tell them to stay neutral about false teaching. He gave them something outside any man.
He does not speak of the teaching of the church as a reliable guide. He does not hint at "neutrality" about the perverse things spoken. The word is to test everything. It is to be the unfailing guide of the sheep when those who ought to lead the flock go astray themselves.
This gives a plain test for any teacher. It mentions the Bereans — hearers who checked what they were told against Scripture.
A teacher who comes from God will always point his hearers to Christ. He will rest them on God's unerring word as the sure resting place for the soul. When someone speaks the truth, true believers will receive it "with all eagerness," like the Bereans. But they will also search the Scriptures to confirm what they have heard (Acts 17:11). The faithful teacher will always want his hearers to test what he has said by the authoritative words of Holy Scripture.
- Inside, not outside. The wolves break in; these men were already there. One danger scatters the flock, the other collects it — around the wrong centre.
- A twist, not a denial. "Twisted things" are truths given a man's own meaning. The error keeps enough truth in it to convince.
- The pull is toward self. The aim is a following. A teacher sent by God points people to Christ and to Scripture. These men point people to themselves.
- It starts both ways. Leaders twist the truth; followers crowd around favourites. Each feeds the other, as Corinth showed.
- The word is the test. Paul's resource was not the church's verdict or its silence. It was God and the word of His grace — the guide that holds when leaders fail.
Wherefore watch, remembering that for three years, night and day, I ceased not admonishing each one [of you] with tears.
Paul has just warned the leaders at Ephesus that wolves will come in from outside and that false teachers will rise from among themselves. He leaves them no plan and no successor — only a command to stay awake, and the memory of three years of his own tears.
The verse holds two duties that need each other. Watching without memory has nothing to fight with. Memory without watching sees the danger too late.
So he presses two things on their consciences — "watch and remember." We must be alert to recognize danger when it raises its head, so that we can deal with it properly. We must also not forget the truth we have learned in the past, by which to meet such things. In this case Paul had spent three years instructing and warning the saints. Today we have no less help in his writings, which are as urgent as his tears were.
Warning was a duty the elders might have preferred to avoid. Few people welcome it, and the servant who gives it must be content with one opinion of his work.
What then were these elders to do in view of the evil days? They were to copy Paul's example. For three years he had never stopped warning every one, night and day, with tears. So they were to labour with all earnestness to walk in his steps. Such a ministry might not be acceptable. The people of God, like Israel of old, prefer those who prophesy "smooth things." But faithfulness to his Lord alone must govern the path of the true servant. His Lord's approval must be enough to encourage him.
The words "every one" point past public teaching. Paul reached people one at a time, and feeding them was only half of his care.
"I did not cease night or day to admonish every one with tears," he says. Plainly he did this one by one. What a watchful pastor he was! He not only fed the flock, but warned them of the dangers that threatened them. There would be little use in feeding sheep if wolves ate them the next moment. The apostle warned the saints at Ephesus of what was coming in. Now we are in the middle of it, so the need to warn is greater still. Note the apostle's words: "did not cease," "night or day," "with tears."
Count the time in days instead of years, and see how far his care reached.
For over a thousand days, all counted — surely counted in heaven too — he admonishes each one, with tears. No favouritism, but genuinely deep feeling that each believer should be held by and in the truth.
Tears are the detail Paul chooses to make them remember. They were not the mark of a man defending a cause or a position.
"Therefore be alert," says the apostle to the elders, "remembering that for three years I did not cease night or day to admonish every one with tears." Necessity drew this little glimpse out of the apostle's heart. It lets us see his complete devotion. It was not business, nor even the spread of truth, still less the prevailing of his own opinions for good. It was one who loved Christ, and pressed this devotion to Him and to His own above all on those who took the lead. Tireless, tender, watchful care filled his heart. He cared with the deepest feeling, always and at any cost. He would have us feel the same, as well as those he addressed that day. Who is able for these things? The ability is in and from God.
Guarding the flock against its enemies is part of an elder's work. One writer asks whether the warning side of it still happens.
They were to watch and be on their guard against the adversaries, remembering how Paul himself had warned them with deep feeling for three years. Is it not a fact that this ministry of warning has almost lapsed through disuse?
Paul's tears test us too, and they were no sign of weakness.
He was no weakling nor a sentimental girl, whose tears come easily and dry as easily. He was a strong man, and his tears were manly. They revealed the depth of his sympathies. Have we ever shed one tear over perishing souls? Do we really care for the straying sheep, or grieve over the fierce wolves that get in among the flock, doing deadly damage?
- Watch. Danger from outside and inside is coming, so alertness is the first duty of anyone caring for God's people.
- Remember. No new strategy guards the flock. The truth already taught does, and Paul's writings now carry the urgency his tears once did.
- Every one. He warned people one by one, night and day. Feeding without warning leaves the sheep fed and then eaten.
- With tears. The tears rose from love for Christ, not from ambition or the defence of opinions. They marked a strong man, not a soft one.
- Copy it. The elders were to walk in the same steps, even though warning is unpopular. One writer notes this ministry has nearly fallen out of use.
And now I commit you to God, and to the word of his grace, which is able to build [you] up and give [to you] an inheritance among all the sanctified.
Paul is saying goodbye to the elders at Ephesus, and he has just warned them of fierce wolves coming once he is gone. So he leaves them not with a plan, a structure or a person, but with God Himself and the word of His grace.
Notice the long list of things Paul does not name.
He does not commend them to any group of men. Not to apostles or their successors. Not to general councils and their decrees. Not to church fathers and their traditions. Not to teachers and their dogmas. None of these would be any help against the "fierce wolves" that were about to come in among them, or against the "twisted things" that some of their own number would say. Nothing but God Himself and the word of His grace could stand in an evil day, or keep a soul standing.
He could not even hand them over to their own leaders, since the trouble would come out of that very circle.
He did not commend them to the other apostles. He could not commend them to the elders either, for he was speaking to elders, and men who would cause trouble were going to come from among them. God, and God alone, is the resource of His people.
Why point them to the word instead of to men who would come after him?
In the same way, Paul commends the believers at Ephesus to God, and to the word of His grace, which was able to build them up. Why did he do this? He knew that after he left, fierce wolves would come in among them and not spare the flock. So he commended them to the word of God's grace, and not to apostles who would follow him.
Paul names two things, and commentators stress that neither works alone.
He commends them not to one only, but to both. Without God before the heart, the word becomes dry and lifeless, and we grow discouraged and impatient. Without the word to direct our life, we are in danger from the will and wisdom of man, or from his folly.
The same writer describes what happens when the two are split apart in practice:
When the word leads you out in prayer to God, you have neither the word without prayer, nor prayer without the word. Both of those habits are very dangerous. One leads to rationalism, the other to fanaticism.
The phrase marks a contrast. God once made demands of men; now He speaks in Christ.
In the past He spoke through Moses, as recorded in the Old Testament. That was the word of His demand on men. Now He has spoken in Christ, as recorded in the New Testament, and that is the word of His grace.
Nothing else can do this work, because building up depends on truth, not on skill.
Bold thinking and beautiful language are all worthless if the truth is not there. And the truth is never so sure, so strong and so holy as in His own word, which is truth. This searches the conscience. This strengthens the heart. This feeds faith, and it makes the blessed hope full and strong in the love which is the strength of all that is good.
Some have asked whether it is God or the word that is able to build up.
In Acts 20:32, should it read "which is able", or "Who is able", to build you up? Comparison with 2 Timothy 3:15 strengthens the first reading.
God's word does more than keep believers safe.
This is our only real protection. It is also the vital means of building up believers, and of giving an inheritance among all those who are sanctified — that is, set apart to God from everything that is against His Word and will.
This inheritance is not something we are still waiting for.
The inheritance is ours by faith in Christ (see Acts 26:18), but the word of His grace gives it to us in present power.
What Paul left the Ephesians has not shrunk with time.
It was able to build them up and give them an inheritance among the sanctified; it is still able to give the soul today a portion as large as ever. We have no limit except the one we make for ourselves. Why make it?
- Danger — Fierce wolves were coming, and men who twist the truth would rise from inside the eldership itself. Paul saw it before it happened.
- Handover — Paul named no successor. He handed them to God and to the word of His grace, not to apostles, councils, traditions or dogmas.
- Pairing — Hold both together. Without God in view the word goes dry; without the word, human will and folly take over.
- Grace — Moses carried God's demand on men; the word of His grace is God speaking in Christ, and this is what builds up.
- Inheritance — Our place among those set apart for God is already ours by faith. The word gives it to us in present power — a portion as large as ever, limited only by us.
I have coveted [the] silver or gold or clothing of no one.
Paul is saying goodbye. He has called the elders of the church at Ephesus down to the coast at Miletus. He has warned them that wolves are coming for the flock. Now he holds up his own record: he wanted nothing that belonged to them.
This sentence is not a stray boast. It answers the danger Paul has just described, and it answers it by pointing at himself.
So he warns them of coming dangers — dangers from without and dangers from within. Fierce wolves would come in and not spare the flock. And from among themselves men would rise up, speaking twisted things to draw away disciples after them. Had Paul sought to gather round himself? They well knew that he had not. He had not received material support from them.
The three items in the verse are not random. Each one feeds a real appetite.
The old nature covets silver, gold, and clothing. All of these feed the cravings of the body and of the mind. Love serves others. Love with faith alone glorifies God. It is good when those who teach these things are living examples of all they urge on others.
Paul was not saying that workers should go unsupported. He taught the opposite — and then declined the benefit himself.
But you say, The servants of the Lord must be supported. Certainly. Look at this dear man of God, and see how he was supported. To everyone who would have given to him, he could say, I do not want your support… He supported himself by making tents, and I guarantee they were the best tents on the market. He would not give any man a chance of saying, Paul was paid for it, or, I have made Paul rich… Paul would not take a penny from the Corinthians. Yet he laid down the rule that the servant should be supported. He laid it down for others and flung it up for himself.
If money is not what drives a servant, something else must be.
The true servant of Christ does not work for money or to make a living. He works out of love to the Lord and to precious souls. He seeks their blessing, not their possessions. He trusts the Lord for his own needs and his family's. And he thankfully takes whatever he receives as coming from the Lord whom he serves.
One writer treats Paul's whole farewell speech as a checklist for anyone who serves at all.
Our own service may be very small, yet the things that marked him should mark us. Here are some of them. "Humility of mind." "Many tears" — a sign of deep exercise of heart. "None of these things move me" — a steady soul. "I coveted no one's silver or gold or apparel" — the strictest possible righteousness before the world. "I have shown you all things" — practising what he preached.
Paul is not the first leader to end his work with this claim. Samuel, Israel's last judge, ended his public life by daring the nation to accuse him, and Nehemiah, governor in Jerusalem, refused the food allowance his office allowed him. Behind all three stands an old warning about what a gift does to the person who takes it.
He had stayed close to the law of Moses. It says, "You shall take no bribe, for a bribe blinds the clear-sighted and subverts the cause of those who are in the right" (Ex. 23:8). He well knew the blinding power of presents, even when they are not given directly to corrupt the court. He knew how easily a gift from someone in the case can sway a judge, however small the gift, and almost without the judge noticing it.
- Danger. Paul speaks with wolves in view. He had just warned of men who would draw disciples after themselves. His own empty hands were the contrast, and the elders knew it.
- Diagnosis. Silver, gold and clothing are what the old nature wants. They feed the cravings of the body and of the mind.
- Surrender. Paul taught that workers deserve support, then gave up his own claim to it. He worked with his hands, so no one could say he preached for pay.
- Substitute. What replaces gain is love for the Lord and for souls, plus quiet trust that God supplies the need. The true servant seeks people's blessing, not their possessions.
- Standard. This is not a rule for leaders only. The marks of Paul's service were humility, steadiness, plain honesty before the world, and practising what he preached. They belong to the smallest service any believer does.
Yourselves know that these hands have ministered to my wants, and to those who were with me.
This is Paul's farewell to the elders of the church at Ephesus, and near the end of it he holds up his own hands as evidence. He had just said he coveted no one's silver or gold; now he points to the hands that paid for his bread and for his companions' bread.
Paul does not ask them to take his word for it. He points to work they had all seen.
Now he can honestly appeal to the fact of his own character and conduct among them. He had not coveted the property of anyone, a marked contrast to many popular religious leaders today. They all knew that he had worked to support himself and others who were with him even though he had a right to refrain from secular employment (1 Cor. 9:11-14).
The word "these" is a gesture, not just a pronoun. Paul had learned tent-making, and the trade left its mark on him.
It is striking that (as far as I can recall) Philippi is the only one of the many assemblies Paul founded that we read of sharing with him in his daily needs. Instead, he points the elders of Ephesus to his own hands. And it is no light matter to provide for the needs of a group as large as those sometimes with Paul. Can you not see the apostle stretch out those work-worn hands, hard and calloused with tent-making, as he speaks of "these hands"?
His hands did not stop at his own needs. Set beside the rest of his work, that is remarkable.
What he did was to work with his own hands by night as well as by day, so that, being self-supporting, he might not be any charge on them. He refers to this again in his second letter. From Acts 20:34 we learn an astonishing fact. He met his own needs this way, and the needs of those who were with him too. Elsewhere he speaks of "night and day praying exceedingly," and we know how abundant his labours in the gospel were.
Paul agreed that a worker deserves his pay. Two things held him back.
At the same time he fully recognised our Lord's maxim, "the labourer is worthy of his hire." (See 1 Cor. 9; Phil. 4; Gal. 6:6.) Why then, it may be asked, did the apostle not take more advantage of it? On the one hand, this devoted servant would not claim his rights, for fear people would misunderstand him. And some of his converts had only just been rescued from the deepest darkness. He felt they needed an object lesson in him — how to earn an honest living. ... On the other hand, we must not forget that there were times when he did receive, and he fully recognised that to be the divine order.
Greed belongs to the old life. Paul's own record shows the opposite, and it sets a standard few reach.
The old man covets silver, and gold, and clothing. All these serve the desires of the body as well as of the mind. Love serves others. Love with faith alone glorifies God. It is well when those who teach these things are living examples of everything they press on others. How few can say truthfully and consistently with the apostle, "I coveted no man's silver, or gold, or clothing."
The same working hands appear in another city. There Paul was copying Someone.
The apostle had pushed forward alone and without means into a region of abundant ease and refinement, and of loose morals to match. There he worked with his own hands for the needs of others as well as his own, as he always did. In this he truly represented the Master who came not to be served but to serve. ... He was not the man to urge on others what he shrank from himself. Nor did he hesitate to commend such a path of gracious self-denial to those whose work it is to feed or tend the flock of God.
- Hands, not words — Paul answers with proof, not claims — calloused, tent-making hands the Ephesians had all seen at work.
- Hands that fed himself — he supported himself, so that he would be no charge on his hearers and no one could misunderstand him.
- Hands that fed others — those same hands covered the needs of his whole travelling party, on top of work by night, prayer and preaching.
- Hands held up as a model — he had a clear right to support and gave it up, so new believers could watch him earn an honest living.
- Hands shaped by Christ — working for the needs of others as well as his own, he showed the Master who came not to be served but to serve.
I have shewed you all things, that thus labouring [we] ought to come in aid of the weak, and to remember the words of the Lord Jesus, that he himself said, It is more blessed to give than to receive.
Paul's farewell to the elders of Ephesus ends with a memory, not a doctrine. He quotes a sentence of Jesus that no Gospel records, and his own working hands stand behind it as proof.
These are words of Jesus, yet no Gospel writer records them. One commentator notes how the saying reached us, and what a single word in the verse shows:
Paul rescued for us one saying of our Lord that stands outside the Gospel records — and Luke himself wrote it down. His word "remember" shows that the saying was already in circulation before he quoted it.
Another writer pictures how the first Christians held it:
It was, no doubt, a sentence known and loved by these early Christians. Perhaps it had become something like a proverb in their minds.
Paul quotes the saying only after pointing to his own labour. He had every claim to be supported, and he gave it up:
In 1 Corinthians 9 the blessed apostle establishes his right to be supported beyond all question. Then he gives it up completely. "But I have made no use of any of these rights." He worked with his hands. Night and day he laboured through hardship, so as not to be a burden to anyone... Was he not entitled to support? Certainly he was. It ought to have been the joy of the church of God to supply his every need. But he never pressed his claim; rather, he surrendered it.
Paul had a reason for working with his hands. He wanted the elders to learn something:
He had done this so that they might learn the blessed privilege of working in the same way to support the weak, remembering the words of the Lord Jesus. A touching reminder! It teaches so plainly that unless we are in the power of grace, we cannot truly be servants of Him who "came not to be served but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many."
Wanting silver, gold and clothing belongs to the old nature. Love moves the other way:
The old nature covets silver, and gold, and clothing. All these serve the desires of the body as well as of the mind. Love serves others. Love with faith alone glorifies God. And it is well when those who teach these things are living examples of everything they urge on others.
The saying turns the ordinary scale of happiness upside down. It could only come from a God who delights to give:
We are led to feel that His giving is spontaneous. He gives because He delights to give. Is it not from His own Son that we have the words, "It is more blessed to give than to receive"? Would such words come from the natural heart of man? Like a leech, its cry is "Give! give!" To receive much is the height of blessedness to the natural man. God says, No, "it is more blessed to give"; and He makes Himself the supreme Giver.
Jesus did not just state the principle. His whole path showed it. One writer traces His giving from glory to the cross:
We learn the free and hearty giving of Himself — Himself! True, He left the glory, and He refused every earthly dignity, place and honour. But He did more than give things up. He accepted the hatred and scorn of man, and He bore the judgment of God against sin — He gave Himself! He found, in all the sorrow and anguish of His path, the supreme blessedness of being a giver!
The words belong to Christ, and that shapes how we read them:
They are the words of Christ, and His life here below is the most blessed comment upon them.
The saying speaks straight to how we handle money:
The Word of God provides an antidote so that we do not fall into the habit of doing nothing but saving. It is to give to others out of the material means the Lord has entrusted to us... Those who give find this principle always holds true in practice. It is much happier for us to give something than to receive a gift.
- Remembered — Paul does not teach this saying. He asks the elders to recall words the first believers already knew and loved, saved for us outside the Gospel records.
- Proved — He had a clear right to support and gave it up. He worked night and day, so the words came backed by his own life.
- Directed — The work had a target: helping the weak. Only the power of grace makes us true servants.
- Reversed — The natural heart counts receiving as the height of happiness. This sentence turns the scale over, because it comes from the God who delights to give.
- Embodied — Christ gave Himself, and found the supreme blessedness of a giver in the middle of anguish. His life is the commentary on His own words.
And having said these things, he knelt down and prayed with them all.
Paul has just finished his farewell speech to the church leaders at Ephesus, and now he kneels with them before boarding the ship. Commentators find a lot in that small act: how a servant ends his work, what posture says in prayer, and why he prayed with them.
One writer notices where this scene sits in the story. Paul's missionary travels end here, and they end the way they began.
And lastly, having spoken to men, he turns to God: he knelt down and prayed with them all. So the curtain drops on the scene, for the record of his active missionary work closes here. It ends as it began. "Behold, he is praying." (See Acts 9:11.)
The same writer notes that Paul knew he was leaving, and left them with something that would not leave.
In all this he had to remember that he was only a servant, and that he was passing off the scene. He could not continue. So we find him commending these Ephesian elders "to God and to the word of His grace." The most faithful, the most tireless servant must go, but God and His word remain.
One writer weighs the small word "with", and finds in it evidence about the elders themselves.
Notice, he prayed with, not for, them all. A lovely picture of dependence on God, and so a fine evidence of beginners who dug deep! Those who know how to kneel before God in complete dependence on Him, and who search His word every day — they are the ones who dig deep. They give proof of building on the rock. And no one advances in the things of God who fails in these two spiritual exercises.
One writer ties the act to God's own supremacy, and points to others in Scripture who knelt before Him.
Kneeling in prayer is a physical act. It shows a recognition of the supremacy and greatness of the eternal God. Have you ever felt compelled to bow the knee? I do not mean forced by power, but moved because you feel it is the right thing to do... And we have good examples. Best of all is the Lord Jesus Christ Himself, as we see Him kneeling in the garden of Gethsemane... Paul (Acts 20:36), Solomon (2 Chron. 6:13), Ezra (Ezra 9:5) and many others bowed their knees in the presence of God or of Christ.
But an example is not a law. Another writer was asked whether kneeling is a duty, and refused to make it one:
We find the apostle Paul kneeling with the elders of Ephesus (Acts 20:36). Kneeling is in every way a fitting posture. But when people call it "an imperative duty," we regard that as an unwarranted assumption... let them kneel, or sit, or stand, as they feel led; but let them not try to force their attitudes as an imperative rule on other people.
Paul knelt among the believers, not above them. One writer uses this to draw a line between the standing all believers share before God and the ministry given to some.
The disciples needed his instruction and guidance, and were to know that he had authority. But they were able to worship just as well when the apostle was away as when he was present. He might have led their worship, or he might have followed others in it. His office was lost, so to speak, when they stood together as worshippers before the Great High Priest. He might have prayed with the disciples (as in Acts 20:36), or they with him (as in Acts 21:5). It is very important to distinguish clearly between the standing all believers share as priests to God, and the different kinds of ministry.
One writer will not let the story end with the speech. The parting itself, he says, shows what Paul's faith produced in him.
Yet the account is not complete without the parting scene. It proves that faith in what is unseen does not hinder the love that comes from God, but produces it, in this world of sorrow and selfishness... Such was the bearing of the greatest of apostles... How far short are any of us! As truth and love faded, hierarchy in every form built itself a throne. It stood as far from the mind of Christ as earth is from heaven. But let us beware that our own love does not grow cold while wickedness abounds.
- Ends as it began. Paul's missionary work opens with "behold, he is praying" and closes with him on his knees. Prayer frames the whole service.
- From men to God. He had said all he could say to them. So he stopped speaking and prayed — the fitting close of a message.
- With, not for. He knelt among them, not above them — dependence shared, not performed.
- Posture, not policy. Kneeling shows dependence, and it follows the Lord's own example. Even so, commentators refuse to make it a rule for others.
- Love, not cold. Faith in what is unseen did not dry Paul up. It brought him to his knees with them — and it is our love that must not grow cold.
And they all wept sore; and falling upon the neck of Paul they ardently kissed him,
Paul has finished his last words to the elders of Ephesus, and has knelt and prayed with them. The chapter ends not with teaching but with tears on a beach at Miletus, and commentators ask what those tears show and what became of the men who wept.
One writer treats these tears as proof of where such love comes from — and adds a warning.
The account is not complete without the parting scene. It proves that faith in the unseen does not hinder the love which is of God, but imparts it, in this world of sorrow and selfishness… But let us beware that our love does not grow cold while lawlessness abounds.
One writer stops on the word used for their kiss.
His words to men over, he went to his knees in prayer with them all, amid their tears. It must have been a moving scene. The word used for "kissed" means to kiss ardently. It is the word used for the kisses the father gave his returning son in Luke 15.
Another writer sees love moving both ways here.
Now he knelt down and prayed with the elders. His heart went out for them. Their feelings went out towards him. They kissed him, weeping bitterly and falling on his neck, distressed that they would see him no more.
The verse says they all wept. One writer asks what the tears were actually for.
Their deepest sorrow, however, was not the coming danger that threatened the flock of God. It was that he had told them they would not see his face again on earth. Too often we think more of the Lord's servant than we do of his message.
The writer who noted the ardent kiss finds a weakness in the same detail:
Yet perhaps we detect a weakness here. They sorrowed most of all because they could not hope to see him again. Might they not have sorrowed even more that wolves would ravage God's fair church, and that men who twist the truth would damage it?
Commentators differ here: one reads the tears as love proved, another sees a weak spot in them.
The later record of these same men is sobering. One writer follows them to the end of Paul's life.
You remember they all wept bitterly, and fell on Paul's neck and kissed him. But now Paul was a prisoner in a Roman dungeon. They were ashamed of him, and it was dangerous to be known as one of his friends. So all in Asia forsook him, and that included those elders at Ephesus. This does not mean they turned away from Christ. Later the apostle John writes a letter to the assembly at Ephesus with much good to say of them. But they were a fallen assembly, outwardly so fair, because they had left their first love (Revelation 2:4). I think that fall began when they turned away from Paul.
Against that, one writer offers a hopeful reading of what was left behind.
God has caused the address they received to be recorded in His word. So we may be sure they kept it in their hearts as well. And from the later state of the assembly at Ephesus, as seen in Paul's letter, we may perhaps conclude that it shaped their lives and governed their conduct in shepherding the flock and caring for the church of God.
And the reach of those words did not stop at Miletus:
Across a distance of eighteen centuries, those words still come with undimmed freshness and power to the hearts and consciences of God's flock and its pastors and teachers. The same Spirit who gave them to the apostle, and has recorded them for us, carries them there — despite all the storms in the church and the winds of doctrine that have raged and blown since then.
- Love proved. The weeping is not weakness of faith. The parting scene shows that faith in the unseen imparts the love which is of God.
- Love expressed. The word for their kiss is the ardent one used of the father's welcome to his returning son. Paul's heart went out to them in prayer, theirs to him in tears.
- Love misaimed. Their sharpest grief was never seeing his face again, not the wolves he had warned of. Too often we think more of the Lord's servant than of his message.
- Love tested. Real tears are not yet faithfulness. When Paul was a prisoner in Rome, all in Asia turned away from him, these elders included, and Ephesus lost its first love.
- Love outlasted. What remained was not the man but the word. God recorded it, it shaped the flock at Ephesus, and it still reaches shepherds and teachers centuries later.
specially pained by the word which he had said, that they would no more see his face. And they went down with him to the ship.
Paul's last words to the elders of the church at Ephesus are over, and the scene ends in tears rather than instruction. Their sharpest pain came from one thing he had told them: this was the last sight of him they would ever have.
The chapter could have ended with Paul's warnings and his charge to watch. The tears belong to the record too, and one writer says they settle a question about faith and love.
Yet the account is not complete without the parting scene. It proves that faith in the unseen does not hinder the love that is of God. Faith imparts that love, in this world of sorrow and selfishness. Such was the bearing of the greatest of apostles. … But let us beware that our love does not grow cold while wickedness abounds.
The word used here for their kiss is not the ordinary one. One writer points out where else it appears.
The word used for "kissed" means to kiss warmly. It is the same word used for the kisses the father gave his returning son in Luke 15. It must have been a moving scene.
One writer sets this scene beside the Lord's own farewell to His disciples. He finds something human here that the other scene could not hold — then turns it on us.
Let me ask further: is there not an expression of humanity in this closing scene? We could not get it in the similar scene between the Lord and His apostles. … This is precious to the heart. We long to have more of it, and to see more of it. We are narrow and cold. The heart has little capacity to let itself out in this way.
The record is exact about the cause of their deepest grief. It was not the danger coming to the church; it was the loss of Paul himself. One writer will not let that pass without comment.
Their deepest sorrow, however, was not for the coming danger that threatened the flock of God. It was because he had told them they would not see his face again on earth. Too often we think more of the Lord's servant than we do of his message.
Paul had already named what he was leaving them with. One writer rests the whole farewell on those few words.
"I commend you to God and to the word of His grace." That will do. Let me turn to Him. There is no one else fit to be trusted. There is no one else needed. He is enough for the darkest and hardest day that has ever come, or that is yet to come. He was enough for Paul, He was enough for those elders of Ephesus, He is enough for reader and writer.
Commentators differ on what became of these men. One draws hope from the fact that their charge was written down at all.
With such holy emotions in their hearts they went with the apostle to the ship, and there they parted for ever. But God has put the address they received into His word. So we may be sure they kept it in their hearts too.
Another traces a sadder line, from these tears to a later letter written from a Roman prison.
But now Paul was a prisoner in a Roman dungeon. They were ashamed of him, and it was dangerous to be his friend. So everyone in Asia deserted him, and that included those elders at Ephesus. This does not mean they turned away from Christ… but they were a fallen assembly, however fine they looked from outside, for they had left their first love. I think that fall began when they turned away from Paul.
- The tears. Love like this is what faith in the unseen produces, not what it kills off — and cold hearts should feel the rebuke.
- The kiss. The word here is the strong one used of a father welcoming his returning son: deep feeling, not formality.
- The grief. They wept hardest over a face they would not see again, not over the danger coming to the flock — a warning against valuing the servant above his message.
- The resource. God and the word of His grace remained when the face was gone; that was enough for Paul, enough for Ephesus, and enough now.
- The sequel. Commentators differ on what followed: one writer sees the charge kept in their hearts, another sees an assembly that lost its first love.
And when, having got away from them, we at last sailed away, we came by a direct course to Cos, and on the morrow to Rhodes, and thence to Patara.
Paul has just said goodbye to the elders at Miletus. This verse puts him back on the water, sailing on toward Jerusalem. Luke names three stops in one sentence: Cos, Rhodes, Patara. Why does the record slow down for plain travel notes? And what does a fast, easy voyage tell us — or not tell us — about God's will.
The opening words are not a casual goodbye. The verb Luke uses is strong. One writer notes that Paul left friends behind and then kept moving, with no detour:
"And when we had parted from them." Some soften that verb, "parted," but its natural meaning implies a wrench. Christian affection is a real thing on earth. Yet in the whole account, no one turns aside to look at anything of natural interest! "We came by a straight course to Cos, and the next day to Rhodes." The apostle's character, his ability and his learning make us sure of one thing. He had an eye for natural beauty and a mind for every piece of history he passed. "But one thing I do" was not only his word to others; it was his own life — "to me to live is Christ."
A list of harbours looks like filler. One writer takes it as proof that the Spirit is not interested only in the dramatic parts of a servant's life:
Nothing more simple, yet on the journey of such a man and his companions the Spirit of God loves to dwell, and that we should dwell. We wrong His grace when we think the Holy Spirit deals only with extraordinary matters: striking words, strange tongues, miraculous signs, and suffering, which bears still more fruit when it is borne quietly. He is beyond doubt the power for all that is good and worthy of Christ. But think of Christ Himself. He lived far the greater part of His life hidden from men, doing the will of God perfectly. In the same way, the Spirit of God enters into every detail of the life of those who are Christ's.
The three names mark three days of sailing. One writer traces the route:
Luke now tells us of the route. Taking a straight course, they reached Cos that day. On the next they reached Rhodes. On the third they arrived at Patara, the port of Xanthus, the capital of Lycia. At this port, finding a ship bound for Phoenicia, they embarked on it, and went direct to Tyre, leaving Cyprus on the left.
The turning point is Patara. There they changed ships, and the next vessel took them straight across to Tyre.
Nothing slowed the ship down. So what does an easy journey prove? One writer answers plainly:
Leaving Miletus they came by a straight course to Cos, then to Rhodes and Patara. Changing ships, they sail to Phoenicia, pass by Cyprus to Syria, landing at Tyre. God put no hindrances in the way on their journey. Indeed, for a man taught of God, as Paul was, the Word of God should have been enough. Smooth circumstances could not change this.
This voyage is carrying Paul into open conflict at Jerusalem. Commentators differ here. How much of the trip was God's leading? How much was Paul's own will? One of them raises the question without settling it:
Then, third, we see him in conflict with the hostility of legal Judaism. He met its agents everywhere, and at last he threw himself into its very centre by going to Jerusalem. That is the part of his history we are now considering. How much was of God, and how much was the result of his own steps? This narrative gives us that to weigh. But the hand of God was in it for the good of the assembly, and in guiding His beloved servant for his own good in the end. That is beyond all doubt.
- Wrench. Parting from the elders was a wrench, not a polite goodbye. Real love makes leaving cost something.
- Course. Paul went straight on. No sightseeing, no detours. "To me to live is Christ" was his life, not only his teaching.
- Detail. The Spirit lingers over three ordinary harbours. He is at work in the plain stretches of a believer's life, not only in the miraculous ones.
- Wind. The voyage ran fast and clear. But smooth circumstances settle nothing. For a man taught by God, the Word of God should have been enough.
- Destination. This easy first leg carries Paul to the centre of opposition at Jerusalem. How much was God's leading? How much was Paul's own will? The account leaves us to weigh it.
And having found a ship passing over into Phoenicia, we went on board and sailed;
At the harbour of Patara, Paul and his companions leave one ship and board another bound for Phoenicia. It reads like a footnote, yet commentators find in it both the quiet ordering of God and a warning about how we read our circumstances.
The verse holds nothing dramatic — no miracle, no sermon, just a boarding. One writer takes that as the point:
Such is the brief account of the voyage... Nothing could be simpler, yet the Spirit of God loves to dwell on the journey of such a man and his companions, and He means us to dwell on it too. We wrong His grace when we think the Holy Spirit has only to do with extraordinary matters. We think of striking utterances, strange tongues, miraculous signs, and sufferings that bear even more fruit when borne without display. He is indeed the power for all that is good and worthy of Christ. But Christ Himself lived by far the greater part of His life hidden from man's eyes, doing the will of God perfectly. In the same way the Spirit of God enters into all the details of life in those who are Christ's. If anything can give dignity to the ordinary events of each day, this must. But do God's children — do we — believe it? ... Let us link the commonest things with Christ's will and glory.
Phoenicia was the coast the ship was heading for, and its name came from a trade:
Phoenice or Phoenicia (Acts 11:19; 15:3; 21:2) is the Canaanite land of Tyre and Sidon. It takes its name from the famous dye, or shellfish, that produced every shade from red to violet, generally called purple.
The change of ship at Patara opened the way for the long crossing:
Taking a straight course, they reached Coos that day. The next day they reached Rhodes. On the third they arrived at Patara, the port of Xanthus, the capital of Lycia. At this port they found a ship bound for Phoenicia, boarded it, and went straight to Tyre, leaving Cyprus on the left. It was about a three days' voyage from Patara.
Was the waiting ship just luck? One writer points to God's hand, and to what a smooth voyage asks of the traveller:
It is good to notice the providential dealings of the Lord. The same heart stays completely unmoved by the most violent and dangerous storm. That heart should also be thankful for a fair wind and a quiet journey. So it was, and so it is. Circumstances never create faith, though God may use unexpected facts to deal with the conscience. The same simple faith gives thanks to God in rough weather or in smooth. This is not indifference. The known will of God is always good, acceptable and perfect, and confidence in His love keeps the heart up. So His hand would be seen in their finding a ship crossing over to Phoenicia. It seems the ship they first set out in did not go beyond Patara in the direction they wanted. Then they found one bound for Phoenicia: "we went aboard and set sail." So in the outward but gracious ordering of God there was no loss of time.
Commentators differ over how much an easy voyage proves. One writer reads the open road as no endorsement:
God put no hindrances in their way on the journey. Indeed, for a man taught of God, as Paul was, the Word of God should have been enough. Smooth circumstances could not change this.
Paul had the mind and the learning to enjoy the sights of these coasts. Something else governed him:
We may be sure, from the apostle's character, ability and learning, that he had an eye for natural beauty and a mind for every piece of history around him. But "one thing I do" was not only his word to others. It was his own life — "to me to live is Christ." The claims of the new creation completely outweighed those of the old.
- Detail. The Spirit records a change of ships. He enters into the ordinary details of life in those who belong to Christ, not only the extraordinary ones.
- Direction. Phoenicia is the coast of Tyre and Sidon. The first ship went no further than Patara, so Paul's group boarded a second for the crossing past Cyprus.
- Provision. A waiting ship and a fair wind are the Lord's providential dealing. Faith gives thanks for calm just as it stays unmoved in storm.
- Discernment. Yet an open road proves nothing on its own. The Word of God, not smooth circumstances, should settle a course.
- Devotion. Past famous islands and historic ports, one purpose held Paul steady: "to me to live is Christ."
and having sighted Cyprus, and left it on the left hand, we sailed to Syria, and made the land at Tyre, for there the ship was to discharge her cargo.
Luke tells this leg of Paul's voyage like a sailor's log: an island sighted, a landing in Syria, a stop at Tyre to unload. Why does Scripture keep such ordinary details, and what did they mean to the man on board?
Nothing in this verse is dramatic. Yet one writer notes that the Spirit of God loves to dwell on plain travel notes like these, and points to the Lord's own hidden life.
Nothing could be simpler. Yet the Spirit of God loves to dwell on the journey of such a man and his companions, and so should we. We wrong His grace when we think the Holy Spirit deals only with extraordinary things: striking words, strange tongues, miraculous signs, and sufferings that bear still more fruit when they are borne without any show. He is, without question, the power for all that is good and worthy of Christ. But Christ Himself lived by far the greater part of His life in complete obscurity as far as man could see, perfectly doing the will of God. In the same way, the Spirit of God enters into all the details of life in those who are Christ's.
Passing Cyprus on the left was the direct course, and the wind allowed it. A later voyage through the same waters did not go so easily.
The last time Paul was at sea in these parts, sailing from Patara to Tyre, the wind favoured the direct course. So, as Luke states, they left Cyprus on their left hand (21:3). On the later voyage they met contrary winds. They had to seek the shelter of the island from the force of the wind, if they were to make any way.
Cyprus was more than a landmark to Paul. He had served there early on, with two men who had since parted from him.
No doubt the word "sighted" is a technical term for sailors. But can we imagine that the apostle passed the island without recalling the scene of his early ministry? He would remember his elder brother in the faith, Barnabas, and his younger, John Mark, whom they once had as their helper... Barnabas and Mark had parted from the apostle. Yet the apostle's heart sought them both, and felt a love that rose above all their failings. He proved it to the last, not only by word, but by deed.
The coast where Paul landed has its own place in the Gospel story.
Syria and Tyre, where they landed, must have brought deep thoughts to the apostle. Here the Lord Himself had withdrawn during His ministry on earth. From those borders came to Him the woman of Canaan. She drew out from Him not only the answer of mercy she wanted for her daughter, but also that praise of her own faith which will never be forgotten.
Luke gives one reason for the stop: the ship had cargo to unload. One commentator sees God's hand in that delay, and in how Paul used it.
The delay of the ship at Tyre was ordered by God, just as much as the finding of a ship at once had been at Patara. The unloading of the cargo gave the apostle and his companions time. The wording is not "to find disciples", as the King James Version has it, but to find "out" the disciples... It seems from this that they were the object of a search, not of a chance discovery.
The delay gave Paul a week among the believers there.
They were held there a week while the ship was made ready for the next stage of its voyage. Paul and his company used the opportunity and spent it with the Christians of the place. Paul was dear to them all, and to some he was certainly no stranger, for he must have passed through the city once or more in earlier days.
Paul came into Tyre on a cargo ship. What he looked for there is a pattern for anyone who travels for work.
He moves on to Tyre now. You say, What is that? Tyre is man's commercial world. We all have to go there... What is Paul's business in Tyre? What is he looking for? He is looking for disciples. Think of it: you move out to another city, you have to go there on business. But how blessed to be on the lookout for followers of Jesus... The choicest material in this scene are the followers of Christ.
- Detail. The Spirit of God is not kept for the spectacular. He works in a sighted island and a plain day's sailing, as Christ spent most of His life in obscurity doing the will of God.
- Direction. A favourable wind let the ship take the direct course past Cyprus. On a later voyage, contrary winds forced Paul into the island's shelter.
- Delay. The ship's cargo, not Paul's plan, set the timetable at Tyre. One writer sees that pause as God's own ordering.
- Discovery. Paul did not stumble on the believers at Tyre. He searched them out, and stayed a full week with them.
- Design. Tyre was a trading port. Paul went ashore on business with an eye open for disciples — a pattern for anyone whose work takes them to a new city.
And having found out the disciples, we remained there seven days; who said to Paul by the Spirit not to go up to Jerusalem.
Paul's ship stops at Tyre to unload cargo. During that week's delay he meets believers there. They tell him, by the Spirit, not to set foot in Jerusalem. He goes anyway. Was this a command Paul disobeyed, or a warning he was free to accept? And how could such a devoted servant get it wrong?
The travellers did not bump into believers at the port. They went looking for them. Older English versions blurred this.
The unloading of the cargo gave the apostle and his companions time. The older English version says they found disciples. But the word is not simply "find"; it is "find out" the disciples. So they were the object of search, not of casual discovery.
The same seven-day stay appears earlier at Troas. There Luke gives the reason. Here he does not.
At Troas we are told that they stayed seven days, and that on the first day of the week the disciples (or rather, we) came together to break bread, and Paul preached. Here there is no such plain statement. Still, the mention of seven days with the disciples may well raise a question: what was the motive for such a stay? I do not doubt it was the joy of meeting all the saints in each place as chance allowed, and of cheering and strengthening them on their way.
Luke names the source of the warning. It came through the Spirit, not from nervous friends.
The Holy Spirit through these disciples warned the apostle at once that he should not go to Jerusalem. This, indeed, was very solemn. Suppose these disciples had spoken for themselves. Suppose the text said only that they were anxious about Paul's journey to that city. Then one might say they were merely speaking as men. But the record makes it clear that the Holy Spirit spoke through them.
These believers had never met Paul, which makes their warning stronger.
These disciples had not known Paul before. That makes their message all the more striking: through the Spirit of God they told him not to go to Jerusalem. It is so clear that we can only marvel the apostle paid no attention to it.
Writers do not agree on how binding the message was. Kelly holds that Paul read it as information about what lay ahead, not as an order.
Clearly, however, the apostle regarded it rather as a note of danger awaiting him than as personal direction he must obediently follow. His own mind was made up, whatever the danger, whatever the suffering, to go through with it.
Others rest weight on the exact phrasing — the disciples said it by the Spirit, rather than the Spirit saying it directly.
There is a real difference between "they said to him by the Spirit" and "the Spirit said." If the Spirit Himself had said it, then going to Jerusalem would have been disobedience in Paul. But it seems to us that it was a warning given by the Spirit that he should not go there. It was much more than saying that afflictions awaited him.
Others read it as plain guidance. They point out that the passage says nothing about coming sufferings.
Not a word is said here about any sufferings that would follow the visit. What we read is that "they said by the Spirit that he should not" go there. If this was not prophecy — and we know it could not have been — then it could only be guidance. Notice too how it is confirmed to the apostle by the mouth of at least two witnesses.
What pushed Paul on was his love for Israel. That love was noble, and it blinded him.
There is a veil over his eyes, and it is a very solemn one. It is the veil of an impulse gripping him — that noble and moving love for Israel which he himself has recorded for us in Romans 9:1-4… He was ready to sacrifice himself to any extent. How could God be against what was in fact the fruit of the Spirit of Christ?
The lesson reaches further than Paul. Gift and power do not guarantee obedience.
These men were outstanding servants, and the Spirit worked in them with great power. Yet nature and old ties, and even true zeal for the Lord's glory, as with Paul, kept them from being ruled by that Holy Guide who lived in them. If they failed, how much more we in these last days of evil, sorrow, and weakness! Solemn truth: to have the Spirit is not always to be spiritual!
The story does not end there. Grace still went with Paul.
He feels compelled to go to Jerusalem. Yet despite this, the providence and grace of God, shown toward him, still lead him — faithful and blessed.
- Sought. Paul's company searched out the believers at Tyre and stayed a week — as at Troas, time enough to meet, cheer and strengthen them.
- Spoken. The warning was not human nerves. The Spirit spoke through these disciples, men who had never met Paul.
- Disputed. Commentators differ. Some call it a warning, resting on the difference between "they said by the Spirit" and "the Spirit said." Others call it guidance Paul should have obeyed.
- Veiled. Paul's burning love for his own nation overrode the message. To have the Spirit is not always to be spiritual.
- Overruled. Even where the servant failed, the providence and grace of God still led him.
But when we had completed the days, we set out and took our journey, all of them accompanying us, with wives and children, till [we were] out of the city. And kneeling down upon the shore we prayed.
Paul's ship stopped a week at Tyre, and he spent that week with the believers there. Why did near-strangers see him off like family, and why does Luke note where they knelt and prayed?
Paul had never met these believers before. One week changed that.
What took place at Tyre was much like the scene at Miletus. It is clear that Paul soon found his way to the heart of the disciples. He had been only one week there, and had not known the Christians before, yet he had gained their affections.
Luke does not say the leaders came, or only the men. He names the wives and children too.
Here is another beautiful mark of divine affection. In the early days Christian life had a family character as well as a social one. This ought to be of great value to us now, if we are wise. In this cold world the saints are in special danger of growing cold, if they keep away from fleshly excitement and worldly amusement.
There was no room and no building — only the shore outside the city gates. And the praying was not left to Paul alone.
The week ended and the ship was ready to sail. The whole company of the Christians, women and children included, brought them on their way outside the city. Away from the busy crowd, in the quiet of the countryside, and under the open sky, they held a prayer meeting. At Miletus, Paul prayed with the elders at parting. Now Luke writes "we prayed." Several no doubt took part. They knelt on the shore and commended the apostle and those with him to the care and keeping of their common Lord and Saviour.
Luke notes how they prayed: on their knees. One writer draws a lesson from that for our own prayer meetings.
We ought to kneel down when we can; it expresses reverence and bowing low. The blessed Master "knelt down and prayed" (Luke 22:41). His apostle did the same, as we read in Acts 20:36: "And when he had said these things, he knelt down and prayed with them all."
The prayer on the sand was warm. It was not carefree.
Here we see another farewell scene. These brothers at Tyre go with their visitors to the ship, wives and children too, and take leave of them with prayer. A shadow of what is coming seems to fall on these little groups of believers. It is lit up by the steady tenderness of a love that carries in it the certainty of eternity.
Paul had been warned about the danger waiting in Jerusalem. Yet he sailed on.
Clearly, however, the apostle took it as a warning of the danger waiting for him, not as personal direction he was bound to obey. He had made up his own mind to go through with it, whatever the danger, whatever the suffering. So the Master had done, in matchless perfection, for His infinite work, at all cost.
Years later Paul passed this coast again — as a prisoner under guard, sailing to Rome.
Now Paul was in the custody of the centurion Julius. From the ship he may have seen the city and harbour of Tyre, and that spot on the shore. There all the Christians, men, women and children, had knelt in prayer with him and his company before they boarded again for Ptolemais.
- Seven days. One short week with strangers was enough to bind their hearts to Paul. Love among Christians is not measured by how long they have known each other.
- All of them. The whole company came, wives and children included. That family affection among the first Christians is worth guarding in a cold world.
- Kneeling. They went down on their knees. It expressed reverence — the Master knelt and prayed, and Paul did the same at Miletus.
- Anywhere. No room and no roof. They prayed on an open shore, and several took part, commending the travellers to their common Lord.
- Under a shadow. A warning of danger in Jerusalem hung over the farewell. Paul had made up his mind to go on, whatever it cost.
And having embraced one another, we went on board ship, and they returned home.
Paul has spent a week with the believers at Tyre. The week ends outside the city, on the beach, on their knees — and one verse holds the whole shape of a Christian goodbye: prayer, farewell, the ship, the walk home.
The verse gives no building, no leader named, and no set form. One writer points out who took part, and where.
The week ended, the ship ready to sail, the whole company of the Christians, the women and children included, went with them out of the city. Away from the crowds, in the quiet of the countryside and under the open sky, they held a prayer meeting. At Miletus, Paul prayed with the elders on parting. Now Luke writes "we prayed." No doubt several took part. They knelt on the shore and committed the apostle and his companions to the care and keeping of their common Lord and Saviour.
This was not the apostle praying over the church. It was the church praying with him, and that touches who may come to God at all.
The disciples needed his instruction and guidance. They were to know that he had authority. But they could worship just as well when the apostle was away as when he was there. He might have led their worship, or he might have followed others in it. His office, so to speak, disappeared when they stood together as worshippers before the Great High Priest. He might have prayed with the disciples (as Acts 20:36), or they with him (as Acts 21:5). It is most important to see the difference clearly. All who are born again stand alike as priests to God; ministries, on the other hand, differ.
Acts rarely mentions children. So why does it mention them here?
The Acts of the Apostles hardly ever mentions children, though it says so much about men and saints and servants of God. But we do hear of them where it is clearly fitting. Here they are brought forward. Not as a superstitious church soon did, among other things, to receive a portion from the Lord's table… But we do see them in the love that filled everyone, and in the desire to gain the blessing of having an apostle among them right up to the last moment. The children were there as a mark of respectful love to the one who was leaving. They were also put where they could receive whatever blessing the Lord might be pleased to give them.
The same writer says this family warmth needs guarding today:
It is another beautiful mark of divine affection — the family as well as social character of Christians in early days. We should value it highly now, if we are wise. In this cold world the saints easily grow cold, if they are kept from fleshly excitement and worldly frivolity.
These same disciples had just told Paul, through the Spirit, not to set foot in Jerusalem. The affection on the beach is therefore not untroubled.
A shadow of what is coming seems to fall on these little companies of believers. It is lit up by the steady tenderness of a love that carries in it the assurance of eternity.
Did that warning bind Paul to stay away? One writer weighs the two readings:
Clearly the apostle took it as a sign of the danger waiting for him, not as a personal order he had to obey. He had made up his mind to go through with it, whatever the danger, whatever the suffering; as the Master had done in matchless perfection for His infinite work, at all cost.
The verse ends with ordinary movement: one group boards, the other walks back into the town. Scripture lingers over such details on purpose.
Nothing could be simpler, yet the Spirit of God loves to dwell on the journey of such a man and his companions, and loves us to dwell on it too. We wrong His grace when we think the Holy Spirit has to do only with extraordinary matters… He is certainly the power for all that is good and worthy of Christ. But think of Christ Himself. He lived by far the greater part of His life unnoticed by people, doing the will of God perfectly. In the same way, the Spirit of God enters into every detail of life in those who are Christ's.
- Gathered — the whole church walked out with Paul, women and children too. Families said this goodbye, not only leaders.
- Knelt — with no building and no ceremony, an open beach served for a prayer meeting under the sky.
- Prayed together — Luke writes "we prayed." Several took part. Even an apostle stood there as one worshipper among the rest.
- Warned — the love carried a shadow. These same disciples had spoken by the Spirit about Jerusalem, and Paul took their words as a sign of danger ahead, not as an order he had to obey.
- Returned — they boarded, the others went home. The Spirit records even that, because He works in the ordinary hours as much as the extraordinary ones.
And we, having completed the voyage, arrived from Tyre at Ptolemais, and having saluted the brethren, we remained one day with them.
Paul's ship follows the Syrian coast from Tyre and puts in at Ptolemais. There he and his companions find believers already living in the town. Luke records the stop in one sentence. Yet it shows how Paul spent that day: with the Christians of the port.
The port Luke names had a long past before the gospel ever reached it. A Bible dictionary traces the history packed into that one place-name:
A seaport on the Mediterranean, about 30 miles south of Tyre. It fell to Asher's share, but Asher failed to take it. The Old Testament mentions it only in Judges 1:31. During the era of the Ptolemies one of them captured it and called it PTOLEMAIS… The Crusaders later besieged and took it, and called it ACRE.
A town Israel once failed to take now holds a company of Christians. William Kelly notes both the name and the mood of the visit:
They arrived at a port called Accho in days gone by, now St. Jean d'Acre. It was only for one day, but how gladly they spent it with the brethren! For there were believers at Ptolemais, apparently already known.
Paul plants no church here. He finds one. Another writer shows how far the gospel had already spread along this coast:
Paul's party take ship once more, following the Syrian shore to Ptolemais, which we now call Acre. Again they find disciples there. Few towns were now without them, no doubt.
Kelly sees purpose in the run of short stays on this journey, and an example for readers who travel far more easily than Paul could:
The apostle had so many hindrances in the way. We can understand how he might feel the comfort of these repeated stays — seven days in one place, seven days in another, as we have seen. They clearly show the desire of his heart for fellowship, and for strengthening their souls. This is what we find in this blessed man's course. In our small measure it surely ought to be so with us.
The ESV says they greeted "the brothers." Older translations read "the brethren," and one writer lists this verse among examples of how Christians spoke of each other:
In apostolic times, Christians generally knew one another by the name "brethren"… "we came to Ptolemais, and saluted the brethren and abode with them one day" — Acts 21:7… "All the brethren greet you" — 1 Cor. 16:20.
One writer follows the party from this one-day stop to their next rest:
Reaching Ptolemais, they stayed one day with the brethren. Then they moved on by land to Caesarea. Under the roof of Philip the Evangelist they found rest, hospitality and surely a most hearty welcome. Here they stayed many days — a rest for Paul after all the tiring travel of the voyage, and a little time of quiet before facing the storm at Jerusalem.
Later in the same book Paul reaches Puteoli, where believers meet him and cheer him. One writer draws the lesson for anyone who thinks maturity outgrows the need for other Christians:
He was a spiritual man, in close touch with God and dependent on Him. Even so, he was not above thanking God and taking courage from the love and fellowship of saints, whose spiritual stature may have been much below his own. It is striking to see this, and very encouraging for us. Let us be very careful not to despise, or even underestimate, the value of the fellowship of saints.
- Harbour. Ptolemais was old Accho, a town Asher failed to take (Judges 1:31). Later rulers renamed it. Now it held a company of believers.
- Found. Paul planted nothing here. He found disciples already in place, for few towns were now without them.
- Greeted. "Brothers" was the ordinary name Christians used for one another. This verse is one of the clearest examples.
- One day. The stop was short, but they gladly gave it to fellowship. Paul stopped like this all along the way, for fellowship and to strengthen souls.
- Courage. Such visits were no luxury, even for a great servant. Paul himself thanked God and took courage from believers of smaller stature — days before the storm at Jerusalem.
And leaving on the morrow, we came to Caesarea; and entering into the house of Philip the evangelist, who was of the seven, we abode with him.
Paul's group stops at Caesarea and stays in a private home. Luke names the host twice over — "the evangelist" and "one of the seven" — and both titles carry a history.
This was the last stage of a long and tiring journey.
They reached Ptolemais and stayed one day with the believers. Then they went on by land to Caesarea. Under the roof of Philip the Evangelist they found rest, hospitality, and surely a most hearty welcome. Here they stayed many days — a rest for Paul after the tiring voyage, and a little time of quiet before facing the storm at Jerusalem.
The title matches what Acts 8 shows Philip doing, city after city, until he reached Caesarea.
As for Philip, the supernatural way he was taken to Azotus did not disturb him. He travelled north to Caesarea, preaching in the cities as he went. This chapter mentions preaching seven times. In five of those the word used is one we have carried over into our own language as "evangelize." In three of the five it is Philip who evangelizes. So it is no surprise that he is soon called "Philip the evangelist" (Acts 21:8).
"One of the seven" points back to the men chosen in Acts 6 to hand out food each day. That humble beginning is the point.
The service of a deacon might seem a very small matter, but nothing in God's service is really small. Paul writes that such service, done faithfully, is the way to higher and larger things. The later history of two men named in Acts 6:5 shows this clearly. Stephen advanced to become the first Christian martyr; Philip to become a greatly used preacher of the Gospel, the only man called an evangelist in Scripture (see Acts 21:8). Every true servant of God has begun with small and humble things. So let none of us despise and shirk them, as we are naturally inclined to do.
Philip's appointment belonged to Jerusalem. His gift did not.
By office Philip was one "of the seven" (Acts 6:5), but his gift was that of an evangelist, and that is what he is called (Acts 21:8). His office lapsed when all who made up the assembly in Jerusalem were scattered. Acts 8 then shows him actively using his gift as an "evangelist," with striking blessing both to a whole city and to an individual. Acts never shows Philip travelling with an apostle... Philip went on his free way under the Lord's direction, evangelizing "all the cities" till he came to Caesarea. The world is in principle the evangelist's province. Travelling or staying is a question of his subjection to the Lord.
Two things changed for Philip after Jerusalem: what he handled, and what he was called.
He no longer had anything to do with tables, but with a risen Christ in glory, and he had the privilege of using a gift the Lord had given him, ministering to the Samaritans what he had learned of Christ. From that service he received from God the title "Philip the evangelist."
Paul is the guest here, and Philip is the host. Nothing in the scene suggests competition.
How good to see the great apostle of the Gentiles staying with dear simple Philip the evangelist. That is how the Lord's various gifts were mixed together in daily life in that day. The great apostle and the earnest evangelist were together. They were not rivals but co-workers, as the Lord arranged, and they got on well together.
The extra phrase settles which Philip this is. Another Philip was an apostle, and the two have been mixed up.
The words of the inspired writer are full and distinct. From their precision one might think it impossible that any intelligent mind could fail to see the person meant. Yet even the man often called the father of church history misunderstood the verse. He confused Philip the evangelist with Philip the apostle. It becomes a duty to notice the error, and to press its importance as a warning to those who talk up the authority of ancient writers. For Acts tells us here that the Philip with whom the apostle's party stayed was not only the evangelist. He was one of the seven — one of the seven men the apostles appointed for the service of tables in the days of first love, soon after Pentecost.
- Seven — Philip started by handing out food at tables. Nothing in God's service is small, and faithfulness there is the road to larger things.
- Evangelist — the title fits the work. In Acts 8 he "evangelizes" city after city, and he is the only man in Scripture called this.
- Free — his office ended when the church in Jerusalem scattered; the gift did not. He answers to the Lord, and the world is his field.
- House — the gift ends at an open door: Philip gives Paul rest and a welcome before Jerusalem.
- Together — apostle and evangelist under one roof, co-workers and not rivals, just as the Lord arranged.
Now this man had four virgin daughters who prophesied.
Paul and his companions stop at Caesarea on the way to Jerusalem and stay in the home of Philip the evangelist. Luke adds one detail: the four unmarried daughters there had the gift of prophecy — but what was prophesying, and where did they use it?
The stop came at the end of a long sea voyage.
Reaching Ptolemais, they stayed one day with the brothers. Then they moved on by land to Caesarea. In the home of Philip the evangelist they found rest, hospitality, and surely a most hearty welcome. Here they stayed many days — a rest for Paul after all the strain of the voyage, and a little quiet time before facing the storm at Jerusalem. We have no account of what happened during their stay. Luke mentions only that Philip had four daughters who prophesied — gifted women who, in their proper sphere, helped on the work of God.
Philip still carries his old title, and the daughters add to the praise.
Though nothing more is said of Philip's work, he was still called "the evangelist," and he had four daughters who prophesied, a lovely commendation. Of course this does not imply at all that they were public speakers, since prophesying can certainly happen in private. This is a valuable gift for sisters to cultivate.
Prophecy in the New Testament is not mainly about predicting the future.
A popular idea is that a prophet foretells future events. But that is only part of his work, and in some cases it may be missing altogether. The mark of New Testament prophesying is speaking "to people for their upbuilding and encouragement and consolation" (1 Cor. 14:3).
The gift also ranks at the very top.
The fact stated in verse nine deserves full attention. Philip had four unmarried daughters, and we are told that they prophesied. That is, they had the highest form of gift for acting on souls from God. Such prophesying was yet more than teaching or preaching.
Kelly puts the question plainly. Can a woman have such a gift, and what is it for?
As unmarried women, they were still living in their father's house, and they prophesied. There is no reason why a woman should not have this or most other gifts as much as a man. I do not say the same kind of gift always. Surely God is wise and gives suited gifts whether to men or women... Certainly He did clothe these four daughters of Philip with a very special spiritual power. They had one of the highest characters of spiritual gift — they prophesied. And if God gave them this power, it was certainly not to be hidden away but used: the only question is how.
So how did they use it? Knapp answers that the verse gives no sign of public speaking.
The case of Philip's daughters who prophesied is often brought forward as proof that it is right for a woman to preach. But this scripture does not say, nor does it even hint, that these women exercised their gift in public. They evidently spoke their prophecies in the privacy of their father's house.
Commentators differ on how to class what the daughters did. Kelly puts prophecy above teaching. Another writer separates the two, and points to what happens next.
The four daughters of Philip prophesied but did not teach (Acts 21:9). Note that the Lord did not use them to warn Paul, even though there seem to have been no men present who could have done this in their place. Instead, He specifically arranged for a prophet from Jerusalem, Agabus, to travel to Caesarea and deliver this prophecy (Acts 21:10-11).
Some call this note a stray detail with no link to the story around it. One writer answers that its place is the point.
One cannot say that this account of Philip's daughters stands in no immediate connection with the events related here. Why should we make our own ability to see such things the measure of what is really in them?... The Church is losing its great apostle. Is it not fitting that God should show us how fully the gift of the Spirit is still upon it, even in its weakest members? that the Lord's care for it neither fails nor is cut short; and that it need neither fail nor fear because of this?
- Guest — Philip's home at Caesarea gave Paul rest and hospitality, and quiet days before the storm at Jerusalem.
- Gift — prophesying is more than predicting the future. It is speech that builds up, encourages and comforts, and it ranks among the highest gifts.
- Given — God gives such power to women as well as to men, and He does not give it to be hidden.
- Guided — the question is not whether they had the gift but how they used it. The verse gives no hint of public ministry, so they spoke in the privacy of their father's house.
- Guarded — as the church loses its great apostle, four unnamed women show that the Spirit's supply does not fail. The church need neither fail nor fear.
And as we stayed there many days, a certain man, by name Agabus, a prophet, came down from Judaea,
Paul and his companions are staying at Caesarea, in the home of Philip the evangelist. A visitor arrives from Judea, and he raises the question of the whole chapter: what should a servant of God do when warning after warning comes about the road ahead?
Agabus appears only twice in Acts, and both times he speaks of trouble coming. One reference work sets the two side by side and notes the wording of each:
A prophet who came from Jerusalem to Antioch, and foretold a famine "over all the world," which happened in the days of Claudius Caesar (Acts 11:28). He also foretold that Paul would be bound at Jerusalem and delivered to the Gentiles, which also came to pass (Acts 21:10). In the first passage it says that Agabus "signified by the Spirit" that there would be a great famine. In the second he said, "Thus says the Holy Spirit." This plainly shows that the prophetic spirit in man was under the immediate guidance of the Holy Spirit.
Predicting the future was only one strand of the prophet's work, and not the main one. One writer describes what the gift mainly was, and where Agabus fits:
Prophecy is in a special way characteristic of Christianity. It does not pass down a line of succession. It springs out of close fellowship with God — the opening up of His mind, so as to bring souls into His presence. Prediction was never more than a fairly small and changing part of it. Yet prediction is just what we find in Agabus, on the only two occasions when he appears in the history. He is a prophet of sorrow both times, though of sorrow that God overrules for good.
The verse marks a long stay at Caesarea. That time had a use, and what Agabus did pointed Paul to his Lord:
Notice that Paul had much time on this journey to consider whether he actually ought to go to Jerusalem. Agabus bound his own hands and feet with Paul's belt, and prophesied that the Jews would bind its owner in the same way and hand him over to the Gentiles. This is just what happened to the Lord Jesus, and no doubt Paul thought of this — not in a way that would turn him from going, but the opposite. He would apparently not seek to avoid being treated in the same way as his Lord.
Agabus is not the first to warn Paul about Jerusalem. One commentator marks where this warning stands, and answers a doubt about the prophet:
Here then came another warning. It was the last and by far the strongest. Did Agabus really speak by the Spirit? The exact fulfilment of what he acted out gives the answer. The whole company, both his fellow travellers and the believers in Caesarea, began to beg him not to go up to Jerusalem.
Commentators differ here. Some point out that Agabus tells Paul what is coming but does not forbid the journey:
Note that the disciples at Tyre told Paul by the Spirit that he should not go to Jerusalem. Once Paul had reached Caesarea, Agabus does not forbid his going to Jerusalem. Did he take it for granted that he was determined to go there? He warned him by the Spirit what awaited him — persecution, and being handed over to the Gentiles.
Another writer reads the repeated warnings differently:
The Holy Spirit does not usually warn of danger. He leads in the path of the Lord, and if persecution comes, He gives strength to endure it. Here Paul was continually warned. His friends beg him not to go up. He will not be persuaded. They hold their peace, hardly satisfied, and say, "Let the will of the Lord be done." And I have no doubt it was His will. But it served purposes that Paul did not know through the understanding the Holy Spirit gave. He only felt pressed in spirit to go, and ready to suffer everything for the Lord.
- Messenger. Agabus is already known — a prophet from Judea whose earlier famine warning came true. That is why his arrival at Caesarea carries weight.
- Message. He speaks in the Holy Spirit's own name, and what he acted out came true exactly. That settles whether he really spoke by the Spirit.
- Mercy. Prediction was only a small part of the prophetic gift. Agabus brings sorrow both times he appears — but sorrow that God overrules for good.
- Margin. The long stay at Caesarea gave Paul time to weigh the journey. What Agabus acted out pointed him to the path his own Lord had walked.
- Mystery. Commentators differ on whether Paul should have gone. Some note that Agabus forbids nothing and only tells him what lies ahead. Others hold that repeated warning marks a path the Spirit was not leading him down. Either way, God worked out His own purposes through it.