NOTES for Act 28:28

Paul's words about the salvation sent to the gentiles are sometimes perceived as some kind of spiritual revolution. However, there is in them nothing completely new or extraordinary. About the fact that with the coming of the Messiah the Kingdom will not be opened only to the Jews, but also to the gentiles, who at that time will turn to the God of Israel, the prophets had spoken many time. Extraordinary in this case was only the fact that recent gentiles were ready to accept the Messiah, Whom the Jews rejected. From the point of view of the representations common in that time in the Synagogue, such a thing seemed almost incredible: because it is in particular the Jews who received the Messiah, it belonged in particular to them to decide who is the real Messiah, and for those gentiles who were interested in Judaism and worshiped the God of Israel, it remained only to meekly accept the choice of their spiritual elder brothers.

In the reality everything isn’t like that: the Messiah was accepted with a greater desire by recent gentiles, than the Jews. And one of the reasons of it was exactly the freedom of the gentiles from these religious theories and conceptions, which sometimes prevented so much the Jews from seeing in Jesus the Messiah. And Paul sees no violation of subordination to witness to the gentiles where the Jews do not accept his testimony, or where they were not yet decided. And the problem here is not even in the priorities, not in the fact, who has to be the first to hear (it is necessary to notice that always heard both, because Paul always began his sermon in the local synagogue), but in the fact that it is given to nobody the right to close to another the way to the Kingdom.

The apostle reminds that constantly in his letters, he always says that the circumcised (i.e religious people, the jews) don’t have to impose their religious to secular people (uncircumcised, gentiles). And if Paul put now the possibility of witnessing to the heathen in the dependence of the sanction of the local Jewish community, it would mean that he puts the Kingdom in dependence of religion.

And the apostle could not of course admit such a thing: because he perfectly understood that Christianity is not a religion and that it depends not at all on the religiosity of man. And if now a certain part of the synagogue, basing itself exclusively on religious considerations, would close the way to the Kingdom to those who were ready to go, such a state of thing would contradict not only all the principles of the apostle, but also the will of God, Who wants to save everyone without having a glance on his religious affiliation and on the opinion of his co-religionists concerning the way chosen by them. In fact, to refuse to preach in such situations would be for the Apostle the equivalent of betraying his witnesses and those people, who believed in his witness. It is not surprising that Paul continued his sermon: because for him, in the first place was the Kingdom, and not people, nor religion.

The book of Acts seems unfinished. We do not know how Paul's last conversation with the Jews ended, and we know the fate of Paul himself only from later tradition (early Christian writers report that he was executed under Emperor Nero, around the year 64). But could this book ever have been finished? Within the Bible, which encompasses the whole history of the world from creation (in Genesis) to the last times (in Revelation), the book of Acts describes the events preceding our own time, after which the Second Coming of Christ is to follow. The final historical book of the New Testament therefore has to limit itself to only a certain, very early segment of Christian history. The continuation of Acts is the entire history of the world from the first century to the very end. You and I are writing this book; as in every book of the Bible, it describes sins and errors—and the victories of the Holy Spirit; its heroes are the Herods and apostles of our own time. We too will have to take our place in this narrative—what role will we choose?

Today's reading sums up Paul's missionary ministry. And once again before us is the apostle's conflict with his own compatriots (vv. 23-24). Of course, rumors about Paul's preaching and his missionary activity could not fail to reach the Jewish community of Rome, which was quite numerous and influential. But the Roman Jews, as we can see, knew nothing definite either about the apostle himself or about his activity (vv. 21-22). Paul himself in Rome, as earlier in Jerusalem, affirmed the same thing he had previously told his judges: he was guilty of nothing either before the Synagogue or before his people (vv. 17-19). His only "fault" consists in the fact that he looks at the Messiah and the Kingdom differently from the majority of his compatriots and fellow believers.

But this does not at all mean that Paul's faith contradicts the tradition. On the contrary, the apostle in Rome, as had happened before in other places, was able to convince many that his faith in no way contradicted the tradition in its true understanding (v. 23). And of course Paul in no way considered his appeal to the Roman authorities and to the Roman court to be connected with any desire to harm the Synagogue or his people (v. 19). The point was only to avoid completely baseless accusations and a possible judicial, or perhaps even extrajudicial, reprisal (vv. 17-18). And still, as we can see, the apostle's words did not convince everyone (v. 24).

And once again what had happened more than once both with Paul and with other Christians happened again: not wanting a split in the community, they all reject Paul's witness, so that after his speech both those who agreed and those who disagreed leave (v. 25). Apparently, among those listening to the apostle, the desire prevailed, as people say in such cases, "not to rock the boat." And the result of this unwillingness, besides the appearance of peace in the community, was the rejection of Christ and the Kingdom, which Paul directly told his listeners (vv. 25-27). Thus conservatism and unwillingness to change became a barrier on the Jewish community of Rome's way into the Kingdom. But this, of course, could in no way stop the apostle's preaching; only now, as we can see, it was directed above all to the Gentiles, who did not have such an ancient and powerful religious tradition binding their mind and will (v. 28). And the Kingdom, judging by the evangelist's witness, truly continued to expand, and with it the Roman church grew, including ever new Christians, recent Gentiles (vv. 30-31).

After Paul's arrival in Rome, a new stage of his mission begins, yet his stay in the capital starts just as his preaching had begun in other cities. We see that, despite his many bitter clashes with the Jews, Paul once again begins his stay in the city by meeting with them. Paul has no intention of accusing his people before the emperor, and however his relations with his hostile brethren may develop, he does not intend to disown them.

...The narrative breaks off; Luke did not finish the Book of Acts. The reason is unknown to us. Yet there is something symbolic in this incompleteness. A book that tells of the journey of the Church, which the gates of hell cannot overcome, cannot be finished before the end of the age. And so all those who for two thousand years have been one with the Church might have appeared on the pages of this book, whose final period looks more like an ellipsis.

While awaiting the emperor's trial, Paul does not waste time. First of all he meets with representatives of the Jewish community of Rome, one of the largest and most influential in the western Diaspora. And, as always and everywhere, he turns first to his own people. Paul is sure: he is guilty of nothing either before the Roman community or before the Jewish people as a whole. Again and again he emphasizes this, speaking of his appeal to the emperor's court only as a forced measure.

He does not break with Judaism; he is only trying to resolve a concrete conflict that, in that concrete situation, could not be resolved in any other way. But the apostle begins his witness, as he did in Jerusalem, with a conversation about the Torah and the prophetic books. As in Jerusalem, he appeals to Tradition. Precisely to Tradition with a capital letter. Not to religious tradition, but to the Tradition of Revelation. He regards his conflict with the leaders of the Synagogue in Jerusalem and with the Sanhedrin as a specifically religious conflict, and therefore a local one that does not touch the main thing.

For the apostle, the main thing is the history of Revelation and the history of salvation connected with it, which for him is the spiritual core and spiritual backbone not only of Judaism, but also, more broadly, of Yahwism. And in testifying to Christ, Paul appeals precisely to Tradition with a capital letter. He does not, of course, reject religion as such, but neither does he put it first. He knows from the experience of his own meeting with the Risen One on the Damascus road that everything that happened to him starting from that minute does not fit into any religious framework, but it can fit into those other frames that were opened to him, perhaps not immediately.

In truth, the spiritual picture opened to the apostle can be called a framework only in a very qualified sense. With his spiritual vision, Paul seems to see the whole sweep of God's action in the world: from the creation of this world, through the tragedy of the fall, and then through the giving of the Torah and prophetic revelation, to Christ, and therefore to the Kingdom entering the world.

This is the Tradition by which Paul lives. He relies on it when he bears witness to Christ, and especially when he bears witness to Jews. He takes nothing from others and loses nothing himself. And he gives up nothing except what can obscure the spiritual fullness opened to him. But what gets in the way is exactly what the apostle gives up, quickly and decisively. Otherwise all his witness will lose its meaning. And so will his life.