Brethren and fathers, hear my defence which I now make to you.
Paul stands above a hostile crowd and opens his defence with a greeting, not a protest. The form of address he chooses, and the language he speaks it in, do as much work as the story that follows.
The older wording sounds like three groups: men, brethren, and fathers. One reference work shows that it names two:
In "men and brethren" (Acts 1:16; Acts 2:29, and so on), two groups are not meant. The sense is "men who are brethren," or, as we would say, simply "brethren." So in Acts 7:2 and Acts 22:1 there are not three groups, but two: "men who are brethren, and fathers."
One writer names the language Luke calls "Hebrew," and says why it quieted the crowd:
He began to speak to his countrymen in a language dearer to them — Aramaic, which Luke calls "Hebrew." Since the Babylonian captivity it had become the everyday language of Jews born in the land. There is a charm in one's own language. It sounds like music to a native ear, however harsh and rough it may sound to a foreigner. The Jews were not indifferent to that. So when they heard him speak Aramaic, they grew quieter.
With the Roman commander he had used Greek. The change of language was a choice:
To the commander Paul had spoken in Greek. But he was always ready to win people by the attentions of love, above all when it was his own beloved though rebellious people. So he speaks to them in Hebrew — that is, in their ordinary language, which was called Hebrew.
Acts tells the story of Paul's conversion more than once, and the tellings differ. One writer traces the difference to the purpose of each account:
Earlier in this book we had the history of the apostle's conversion in its historical order. That account bears deeply on the progress of the gospel and the revelation of Christian truth. Here we have the same story as part of his defence before the people of Israel. So it has a particular aim, marked by his use of the Hebrew language, and that explains its other special features. There is really no contradiction here, any more than in other parts of Scripture. Any appearance of one comes only from the difference of purpose.
Paul first sets out a past his hearers would have admired, and credits them with the zeal he once had:
He had persecuted the Way to the death, and filled prisons with people under suspicion and accusation... Who had played the persecutor more relentlessly than he? Zeal for God had indeed marked him. Zeal for God, he acknowledged (22:3), marked them too. But there may be zeal for God without knowledge. That he had experienced in his own case.
Commentators differ on how to weigh this speech. Some see God-given skill in the way he builds it:
As we read the account in Acts 22, we cannot help seeing the skill God gave Paul as he spoke. He began by telling them what he had been in his early days, when his way of life matched their own thinking... He tells the story in a way that presses one point on his hearers: God had brought about the change in him that so offended them.
Another writer sees Paul excusing himself here, and asks why he told them of a mission they would not receive:
He excuses himself to the Jews, no doubt. But if they would not receive his testimony, why say that the Lord had sent him? This speech is the main point of the apostle's history, and all the rest depends on it.
The silence held while he spoke of himself. It broke at one word:
His countrymen listened with great attention while he spoke of his early life and his persecution of the church. They heard him tell of his mission to Damascus, his miraculous conversion, his vision in the temple, and his meeting with Ananias. But the moment he mentioned his mission to the Gentiles, the crowd below burst out in boundless anger and silenced him. They could not endure the thought of God's grace to the Gentiles.
- Greeting. "Brothers and fathers" names two groups, not three. Paul greets a hostile crowd as family.
- Language. Greek to the Roman commander, Aramaic to the crowd. Love pays attention to who is listening, and the crowd grows quiet.
- Design. Acts tells the conversion first as history; here Paul tells it as his defence to Israel. The differences come from the purpose, not from error.
- Common ground. He credits his hearers with the zeal he once had. His own life proves that zeal for God can run without knowledge.
- Limit. They heard him out until grace reached the Gentiles. Writers weigh the speech differently, but that one word ended the hearing.
And hearing that he addressed them in the Hebrew tongue, they kept the more quiet; and he says,
Paul stands on the barracks stairs above a crowd that has just tried to kill him. Instead of shouting for order, he changes language — and the noise drops.
In Acts, "Hebrew" does not mean the ancient language of the Old Testament scrolls. It means the everyday speech of Jews in Palestine.
The Jews who returned from Babylon brought many words of the Aramaic language with them. It doubtless went through various changes. Still, this was the language commonly spoken in Palestine when our Lord was on earth, and the New Testament calls it Hebrew.
Paul could handle Greek — the officer had just found that out. He chose the other language for what it did to the ear of the crowd.
He could speak Greek with ease, as the chief captain learned to his evident surprise. But he began to address his countrymen in a language dearer to them. It was Aramaic, which Luke calls "Hebrew." Since the captivity in Babylon it had become the common tongue of Jews born in the land. There is a charm in one's own language, a melody to the native ear, however harsh and rough it may sound to a foreigner. The Jews were not indifferent to that. So when they heard him speak in Aramaic, they grew quieter.
Paul used one language for the Roman commander and another for his own people. Writers see in that switch a habit worth copying.
To the chief captain he had spoken in Greek; to the Jews he speaks in Hebrew. These little attentions and considerations are the beautiful blending of love and wisdom, and ought to serve as a lesson for us. He was always ready to win, by "becoming all things to all men, that he might gain the more." ... He calmed the tumultuous sea of human passion by the sound of their sacred language. It fell like oil on troubled waters.
The calm was not only Paul's skill with words. One writer traces the whole sequence back to God.
In everything that happened to Paul in Jerusalem, the hand of God is not hard to see. He was controlling it all behind the scenes. Though the city was in an uproar, no one struck a fatal blow until enough time had passed for the chief captain to step in. Then Paul addressed him in Greek. That made a favourable impression, and it led to permission to speak to the rioting crowds from the stairs. Then Paul's choice of Hebrew for his speech brought complete silence and attention for what he had to say.
Acts tells the story of Paul's conversion more than once. Readers have asked whether the accounts contradict each other. The choice of Hebrew is the key to this one.
Earlier in this book we had the history of the apostle's conversion in its historical order. That account bears deeply on the progress of the gospel and the revelation of Christian truth. Here we have the account of it as part of his defence before the people of Israel. So it has a specific aim, marked by the use of the Hebrew language. That aim accounts for its other unusual features. There is no real discrepancy here, any more than in other parts of Scripture. It only looks like one because the purpose is different.
The hush bought Paul a hearing, but only up to one word.
His countrymen listened with great attention while he spoke of his early life, his persecution of the church, and his mission to Damascus. He went on to his miraculous conversion, his vision in the temple, and his meeting with Ananias. But the moment he mentioned his mission to the Gentiles, a burst of fierce anger rose from the crowd below and silenced him. They could not bear the thought of God's grace to the Gentiles. That hated name stung them to fury.
Commentators differ on whether Paul should have been in Jerusalem at all. One writer points out that the Lord had already warned him they would not accept his testimony, and asks, "What then was he doing at Jerusalem?" (J. N. Darby).
- Language. "Hebrew" here means the Aramaic spoken in Palestine — the mother tongue of the crowd.
- Love. Greek for the Roman officer, Hebrew for the Jews: love and wisdom together, adapting to win a hearing.
- Hand. God controlled the scene. The timing of the rescue, the officer's permission, and the sudden quiet all trace back to Him.
- Design. The Hebrew address explains why this account of Paul's conversion differs from the others. Different audience, different purpose, no contradiction.
- Limit. The calm held through his whole story and broke on one word: Gentiles. Grace beyond Israel was what they would not hear.
*I* am a Jew, born in Tarsus of Cilicia, but brought up in this city, at the feet of Gamaliel, educated according to [the] exactness of the law of [our] fathers, being zealous for God, as *ye* are all this day;
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
who have persecuted this way unto death, binding and delivering up to prisons both men and women;
Paul stands in chains before the crowd that just tried to kill him. He opens his defence with a confession: he had hunted followers of Jesus to death, and did it with a clear conscience.
Paul did not invent the phrase he uses here.
In the days of the apostles the Christian faith seems to have acquired the name of "the Way"; see Acts 9:2; 19:9, 23; 22:4; 24:14, 22. Peter uses the term "the way of truth" (2 Peter 2:2).
Paul chooses his words for the crowd in front of him. Before Agrippa he named the same people differently, and admitted how far he had gone.
Before Agrippa he does not hesitate to confess to his own shame that he shut up "many of the saints" in prisons. To the Jews he had used the more vague expression, "this Way" (Acts 22:4); as Luke in the history spoke of "the disciples of the Lord" (Acts 9:1). And it was not only imprisoning. When it came to putting them to death, had he not given his vote against them? That was clearly so in Stephen's case.
Paul offers his record as proof. No one could call him a half-hearted Jew, and that is why his testimony carried weight.
The apostle had never been a careless, light-hearted Israelite; as his training was most strict, so his personal zeal was thorough. Indeed he had given the fullest proof, for he persecuted this Way to the death. None like Saul of Tarsus, who was so active in binding and delivering to prison both men and women! He was the highest possible example of those who have a zeal for God, but not according to knowledge. So who could speak from personal experience like him? He was speaking to men who did not know God's righteousness and were trying to set up their own.
Saul felt no guilt at the time. His own conscience approved the arrests.
Take the case of Paul before his conversion. He could say that he had lived in all good conscience before God, and yet he had been dragging men and women to prison because they were Christians. No doubt he did it with an untroubled conscience... Paul's zeal for Judaism blinded his eyes. In his conscience he could not recognise the God who gave the law and had also sent His Son. He could not see that God was free to act outside the law. It was an unenlightened conscience, a zeal without knowledge, and even a Christian can be led astray by it.
The verse says he bound both men and women. That detail shows how far the hatred went.
Religious rage is of all kinds the most unrelenting. Fresh victims do not satisfy it but sharpen its cruel appetite. It spares neither sex nor age.
The voice from heaven did not ask Saul why he was persecuting Christians. It asked why he was persecuting "Me".
When the voice from heaven said, "Why are you persecuting Me?" who did the Lord mean and include in that word "Me"? Was it not the very ones that Saul was committing to prison and to death (Acts 22:4-5; Acts 26:10-11)? Are we used to realising and enjoying our position and privileges in this way, as members of the body of Christ?
Full forgiveness did not cancel the consequences.
God's grace met him when he was at the height of his wicked opposition to Christ and His saints; he was saved, blessed and transformed. But this did not stop God's righteous government working on the earth. Many of his later sufferings for Christ exactly matched his own earlier misdeeds. He who "dragged off men and women and committed them to prison" had his full share of imprisonment in due time. He instigated the stoning of Stephen, and before long was stoned himself.
Paul never hid this record, because it became the proof of what grace can do.
The chief of sinners is in Heaven. How did he get there? Simply by the blood of Jesus; and moreover, he is Christ's "pattern" man. All may look at him and see how they too are to be saved... The grace that reached the chief can reach all. The blood that cleansed the chief can cleanse all.
- The Way. In the earliest days the faith Saul attacked went by the name "the Way". Paul uses that familiar term with a Jewish crowd.
- The zeal. His campaign was not carelessness but conviction. He was the highest example of zeal for God that is not according to knowledge.
- The blindness. A conscience can stay calm while doing terrible evil. An unenlightened conscience is no safeguard, even for a Christian.
- The victim. Every man and woman he bound belonged to Christ's body. So the voice from heaven charged him with persecuting Christ Himself.
- The mercy. The man who filled the prisons ended up in one, forgiven yet still under God's government. He became the pattern: the grace that reached the chief of sinners can reach anyone.
as also the high priest bears me witness, and all the elderhood from whom also, having received letters to the brethren, I went to Damascus to bring those also who were there, bound, to Jerusalem, to be punished.
Paul is defending himself before a hostile crowd in Jerusalem, and he does something unexpected. He calls his own accusers as witnesses. The high priest and the council can confirm every word about the man he used to be. They gave him the letters that sent him to Damascus.
Paul does not ask the crowd to take his word about his past. He points to the men who authorised it, and to the letters they gave him.
The high priest himself could not ignore this fact. He had to testify to it, and so did all the elders. They are reminded that Paul also received letters to the brothers — that is, the Jews living elsewhere — and travelled to Damascus to bring those who were there back to Jerusalem in chains, to be punished. The man who was later to go out to all the world with the gospel could not, in earlier days, keep his legal zeal inside the borders of Jerusalem or Judea.
The "brothers" in this verse are the Jewish communities of Damascus, not fellow Christians. Paul was heading for a city where believers had gone to be safe.
He heard that some of the persecuted believers had found shelter in Damascus, an ancient city in Syria. So he made up his mind to go there and bring them back to Jerusalem as criminals… In this way he became the very apostle of Jewish hatred against the disciples of Jesus. He acted in ignorance, no doubt, but he made himself their willing missionary.
The persecution was not a fit of temper. It grew out of his religious training, and it shows how firmly he once held what his hearers still hold.
The apostle had never been a careless, easy-going Israelite. His training was as strict as could be, and his own zeal matched it. He had given the fullest proof of that, for he persecuted this Way to death. No one was like Saul of Tarsus, who was so busy arresting men and women alike and handing them over to prison! He was the prime example of those who have a zeal for God, but not according to knowledge. So who could speak from personal experience like him to people who did not know God's righteousness, and were trying to set up their own?
Saul felt no guilt while he did this. That raises a warning about trusting our own sense of being right.
But note this! Conscience is no guide to a man. Conscience is like the rudder of a ship. If you have a correct chart and a good steersman, the rudder is useful for steering the ship. But if you let wind and wave toss the rudder about, the ship will go on the rocks. We hear nowadays that if a man walks by his conscience, all will be well for time and eternity. That teaching is not from God, and it will not do. Here Saul was "in all good conscience" doing everything he could against the name of Jesus.
Naming the high priest is deliberate. Paul builds common ground with the crowd before he describes what changed him.
He began by saying what he had been in his early days, when his way of life matched their own thinking completely. He was faultless in his family line, his education, his zeal, and his hatred of the Christians. Then heaven stepped in, and it was plainly an act of God… He tells the story in a way that presses one point on his hearers: God had made the change in him that offended them so much.
The record Paul reads out here is the record of the worst kind of sinner. That is exactly why his story matters to everyone else.
The chief of sinners is in heaven. How did he get there? Only by the blood of Jesus. And more than that, he is Christ's "pattern" man. Anyone may look at him and see how they too are to be saved… The grace that reached the chief can reach all. The blood that cleansed the chief can cleanse all.
- Witnesses. Paul needs no witness of his own. The high priest and the whole council gave him the letters and can confirm them.
- Warrants. The letters went to the Jewish communities in Damascus. They let him arrest believers and drag them to Jerusalem for punishment.
- Zeal. His violence came from real religious zeal — zeal for God, but not according to knowledge. It is the very fault of the crowd he is facing.
- Conscience. He felt right the whole time. So conscience alone is no safe guide. It steers well only with a true chart.
- Grace. The man these letters describe is now in heaven. He is the pattern: grace that reached the chief of sinners can reach anyone.