NOTES for Act 23:1-35

People really are right when they say: everyone has his own truth. The truth of the chief priests lies in the triumph of lawful order as they understand it and in the removal of a dangerous heretic; the truth of the Roman administration lies in maintaining its own Roman legality and peace, that is, in keeping these fanatics from killing one another and provoking a revolt. But Paul's truth consists in fulfilling the words of Jesus, who appears to him again and calls him to testify in Rome with boldness and without fear.

Even then the world was pluralistic to the extreme, and everyone could take a niche in it and defend his own position. We are in the same situation. One can be a church loyalist, a servant of the state, a terrorist, or someone who spends all day living on the Internet. In such a situation, with an endless number of options for how to live and what to die for, there is always the temptation to sink into skepticism and indifference toward one path or another. Paul's position, or the Christian's position, is only one among many, but for him the truth of his path was obvious. Is it obvious to us?

Today's reading describes Paul's last attempt to bear witness before those of his own faith (vv. 1–10). His further ministry, it seems, was to be connected no longer with Jerusalem, but with Rome (v. 11). Given the assembly's reaction to his words, this turn of events can hardly be considered unexpected. Indeed, testimony makes sense only when there is at least someone who wants to hear it. When no such person was present, even Jesus Himself remained silent. In the situation the evangelist describes, the most striking figure is the high priest, who ordered Paul to be struck on the mouth (v. 2). Even then, however, the apostle tried to speak of what mattered most: the Resurrection (v. 6). At first sight, Paul's assertion that he is on trial for believing in the resurrection of the dead seems somewhat disingenuous, since it plainly leaves something unsaid and simplifies the situation. Yet it is possible that, on Paul's lips, this assertion was merely a rhetorical device directed primarily at the Pharisees, to whom he himself had belonged before turning to Christ. Indeed, when speaking with Jews, one could hardly find a better starting point for discussing the Resurrection and the Messiah than belief in the Day of Judgment and the general resurrection. Apparently, however, Paul did not have time to finish: a scuffle broke out between the Pharisees and the Sadducees, for whom any mention of the resurrection of the dead was akin, if not to fantasy, then at least to highly questionable theological ideas (vv. 7–9), so that representatives of Roman authority had to intervene (v. 10). In such a situation, there was no point in continuing to preach—not because it was dangerous, but because its result was not conversion to Christ, but quarrels and strife among representatives of different religious parties. Besides, what arguments could persuade those whose life's purpose and meaning had become the killing of the One they regarded as an enemy of their faith and their people (vv. 12–15)? Speaking with a fanatic is obviously pointless, at least until he wishes to free himself from his fanaticism. Thus, only one road remains for Paul: to Rome, where his final witness awaits him. It is no surprise that, in these circumstances, Roman soldiers guard him, a Roman citizen, on that road (vv. 23–33).

Paul is on trial. If anyone is interested in understanding at least something, it is the representatives of Roman authority, especially since a Roman citizen is involved.

Everyone else had an exclusively party interest: it is no accident that when Paul began to speak about being judged for faith in the resurrection of the dead, the representatives of the Pharisaic party in the Sanhedrin immediately took his side without going into details. This is precisely party thinking: one's own and outsiders are identified by certain verbal signs, by a kind of marker. For the Pharisees such a marker was the expression "resurrection of the dead," so, on hearing it, the representatives of the Pharisaic party in the Sanhedrin immediately took Paul's side.

Thus questions of spiritual life, degrading into political questions, give rise to ideology, in which a scheme and system of "one of us" and "one of them" markers always dominate. And the next stage of spiritual degradation is hatred for the one who, in your own imagination or even in reality, is your opponent. As with the forty men who vowed not to eat or drink until they had killed Paul.

In this state a person simply does not see the possibility of coexistence with his opponent in one world, however wide the world may be. Such hatred arises especially often on religious soil, although other ideas besides religious ones can of course become its source. And then politics and ideology give birth to something still more monstrous: fanaticism. Becoming a fanatic, a person literally turns into one possessed, surrendering his will to the power of some idea or task, usually impossible or simply illusory.

But to the possessed person himself it seems that if only he solves this task or realizes this idea, the world will become an ideal, perfect place where there will be neither evil nor sin. All other states make communion with God difficult, distracting a person from God; fanaticism excludes it altogether. That is why it was clear to Paul and to everyone else that there was nothing to discuss with fanatics. And then the representatives of Roman authority take measures to save the apostle and take him away from Jerusalem.

The dispute that split the Sanhedrin after Paul’s words may seem to have been artificially provoked by him, and his speech itself merely a cunning move. Yet we have no reason to doubt that Paul quite sincerely calls himself a Pharisee, since he has no intention of renouncing his origins. He is prepared to offer to Christ and the Church the best that characterized the Pharisees: firm hope in the Lord and knowledge of the Law.

Yes, Christ repeatedly rebuked the Pharisees and warned His disciples against the leaven of the Pharisees. Yet He Himself, pointing to the Pharisees, advised them not to reject the standard of their righteousness but to surpass it. Much had been given to the Pharisees, and therefore more was required of them; for the same reason, more temptations surrounded them. The self-righteousness characteristic of many of them is not the exclusive privilege of this one category of people, so anyone can turn out to be a Pharisee in the bad sense of the word. And in the way the Pharisees of the Sanhedrin began to defend Paul, one can see not only that they set about protecting “one of their own,” having fallen for his cleverness, but also that not everything in their hearts had hardened beneath the crust of formal legalism.