NOTES for Act 19:23-41

The Ephesian craftsmen raised a riot under the slogan of defending a pagan goddess from dishonor, but it is hard to avoid the impression that in reality they were concerned not with upholding religious principles, but with the fate of their own income. Lofty slogans often hide very earthly practical interests, not selfless devotion to ideals at all. Yet people who care about their own interests and calculate possible profits and losses do not always win by taking such a pragmatic approach. A time would come when the descendants of the craftsmen who rioted in Ephesus against the arrival of an unheard-of teaching in their city would themselves turn away from paganism; but their crafts would not wither because of that, which means the source of income would not dry up.

Those for whom truth matters more than income will lose nothing by following it, even if giving up familiar actions causes inconvenience at first. And even if a former, familiar occupation has to be left behind, the Lord will give something immeasurably better in its place. But the person for whom income matters most will in the end receive neither the fruits of the Spirit nor material goods, even though at first things may appear successful and prosperous.

Today's reading once again makes us reflect on what a crowd is and what it means to be a person of the crowd. The incident in Ephesus was undoubtedly driven not by ideological considerations but by strictly practical ones: a craftsman named Demetrius does not even try to hide that he fears above all for his business, which he thinks Paul's preaching may harm (vv. 23–26). Then, as though catching himself and realizing that this argument alone will not suffice for an accusation, Demetrius finds a more “exalted” reason for his outrage: he claims that not only the profits of makers of sacred images are at stake, but also the desecration of altars revered throughout the world, so that one can now speak of a crime against the state (v. 27). There is, of course, nothing surprising about this kind of “logic”: in every age, people have tended to defend their own interests under the guise of the state's. What is most remarkable, however, is that even such simple reasoning is of no real interest to the assembled crowd: the only response is cries of “Great is Artemis of the Ephesians!” (v. 28). Events then unfold rapidly: the crowd snowballs, seizing those it considers guilty (vv. 29–31). Yet not everyone present had a clear idea of what was happening (v. 32). Here we see the typical behavior of a person of the crowd, who, on becoming part of a raging mass, completely loses their individuality. It is utterly impossible to speak with people in such a state: they not only do not want to listen to anyone, but cannot (vv. 33–34). To hear, one must still remain a human being; in a crowd there are simply no people in the biblical sense, people preserving the image of God: by surrendering to the crowd's power, a person voluntarily renounces that image. Only elementary instincts and the simplest patterns of behavior operate: fear of force, submission to a ringleader—who, like Demetrius in the account, may essentially be an accidental figure—and cries that mean nothing but excite people. Such a mass is not very difficult to control, but it is very dangerous: its behavior is far too unpredictable. It is no surprise that the representative of the authorities does everything to calm and disperse those assembled: he understands that gatherings of this kind bring nothing but trouble (vv. 35–41). Then it becomes clear why normal spiritual life and the collectivism characteristic of every crowd are incompatible. In a crowd, as in any collective, there is a “mass,” but there are no persons. Yet it is precisely the person God needs, for only a person bears the image of God. A “mass,” a crowd, a collective has no image. Neither God's nor a human one.

Today’s almost anecdotal episode describes a conflict between the Gospel, emerging Christianity, and pagan “small business”: artisan jewelers who earn their income from the cult of Artemis. This is not the first such confrontation. In principle, almost every conflict between the world and the Good News can be presented as a confrontation between Christ and the personal self-interest of particular people. In the case of Jesus Himself and the apostles in Jerusalem, it was the chief priests’ envy and their fear for their privileges. The conflicts with Simon Magus and Elymas arose from the threat that they would lose their influence over their “clients.” Now there is this sort of “trade union” problem: if people believe in Christ, no one will buy silver figurines of Artemis and her temple. In reality, if we look carefully at our own lives, we will surely see how our self-interest prevents us from living fully according to faith and from walking the narrow path that so often requires us to renounce our own interests.