John Calvin Commentary


John Calvin Commentary
"And when we were escaped, then we knew that the island was called Melita." — Acts 28:1 (ASV)
That sorrowful spectacle is described at the beginning of the chapter, where so many men, wet, completely covered with the foam and filth of the sea, and stiff from the cold, crawled with great difficulty to the shore. For it was as if they had been cast up by the sea only to die some other death.
After that, Luke declares that they were courteously received by the islanders. These islanders kindled a fire so the men could dry their clothes and refresh their joints, stiff from the cold; and eventually, they were sheltered from the rain. Therefore, in commending these actions, Paul shows his gratitude. Such great generosity toward strangers is rightly praised, and there are rare examples of it in the world.
And though common human nature may draw some compassion from these non-Jewish islanders in such great need, it was undoubtedly God who caused the people of Melita to treat these men so courteously. This ensured His promise would be sure and certain, as it would have seemed unfulfilled if the shipwreck had resulted in the loss of anyone's life.
A viper coming out of the heat. The event itself proved that Paul was a true and undoubted prophet of God. Now, so that God might make him renowned by land as well as by sea, He sealed the former miracles with a new one, and so He ratified Paul's apostleship among the people of Melita.
And though not many profited from this, the majesty of the gospel still shone even among the unbelievers. This event also greatly confirmed the divine messages to the sailors, messages they had not sufficiently respected.
Neither did the viper come out of the sticks by chance; instead, the Lord directed it by His secret plan to bite Paul, because He saw it would contribute to the glory of His gospel.
"And when the barbarians saw the [venomous] creature hanging from his hand, they said one to another, No doubt this man is a murderer, whom, though he hath escaped from the sea, yet Justice hath not suffered to live." — Acts 28:4 (ASV)
As soon as the barbarians saw. This judgment was common in all ages: that those who were grievously punished had grievously offended. Nor was this persuasion conceived from nothing; but it came instead from a true feeling of godliness. For God, so that He might make the world without excuse, willed this to be deeply rooted in the minds of all people: that calamity and adversity, and especially notable destruction, were testimonies and signs of His wrath and just vengeance against sins.
Therefore, as often as we call to mind any notable calamity, we also remember that God is sorely offended, seeing He punishes so sharply. Nor did ungodliness ever gain such an upper hand without all people still retaining this principle: that God, so that He may show Himself to be the Judge of the world, notably punishes the wicked.
But an error almost always crept in here, because they condemned as wicked all those whom they saw roughly handled. Though God does always punish people’s sins with adversity, yet He does not punish every person according to their deserts in this life; and sometimes the punishments of the godly are not so much punishments as trials of their faith and exercises of godliness.
Therefore, those people are deceived who make this a general rule to judge every person according to their prosperity or adversity. This was the state of the controversy between Job and his friends (Job 4:7): they affirmed that the person whom God punished was a reprobate and hated by God; and Job, on the other hand, alleged that the godly are sometimes humbled with the cross.
Therefore, lest we be deceived in this point, we must beware of two things.
The first is that we do not give rash and blind judgment of things unknown according to the outcome alone, because God punishes the good as well as the bad. Indeed, it often happens that He spares the reprobate and sharply punishes those who are His. If we wish to judge correctly, we must begin with something other than punishments—namely, that we inquire into their life and deeds.
If any adulterer, any blasphemous person, any perjurer or murderer, any filthy person, any swindler, or any bloodthirsty beast is punished, God points out His judgment, as it were, with His finger. If we see no wickedness, nothing is better than to suspend our judgment concerning punishment.
The second caution is that we wait for the end. For as soon as God begins to strike, we do not immediately see His direction and purpose; but the eventual outcome declares that those who seem alike in people’s eyes in the likelihood of punishment actually differ greatly before God.
If anyone objects that it is not in vain that it is so often repeated in the Law that all private and public miseries are the scourges of God, I indeed grant that this is true. But I still deny that it keeps God from sparing whom He will for a time, though they are the worst of all people, and from punishing more sharply those whose fault is lesser.
Nevertheless, it is not our duty to make perpetual what happens often. We see now how the men of Melita were deceived: namely, because not having examined Paul’s life, they judge him to be a wicked man only because the viper bites him; and secondly, because they do not wait for the outcome, but give judgment rashly.
Nevertheless, we must note that those are detestable monsters who try to pluck out of their hearts all sense of God’s judgment, which is engrafted in all of us naturally, and which is also found in barbarians and savage people. As for their thinking that Paul is guilty of murder rather than of any other offense, they follow this reasoning because murder has always been most detestable.
Vengeance does not suffer. They conclude that he is a wicked man, because vengeance persecutes him though he has escaped the sea. And they imagined that the avenging goddess sat by the throne of Jupiter, whom they commonly called Δίκη; crudely, I grant, as people ignorant of pure religion, and yet not without some acceptable meaning, as if they had depicted God as the Judge of the world. But by these words the wrath of God is distinguished from fortune, and so the judgment of God is affirmed against all blind chance. For the men of Melita take it to be a sign of heavenly vengeance, in that though Paul was saved, yet he could not be safe.
"Howbeit he shook off the creature into the fire, and took no harm." — Acts 28:5 (ASV)
Shaking off the viper. The shaking off of the viper is a sign of a calm mind. For we see how greatly fear troubles and weakens people. Yet, you must not think that Paul was entirely without fear.
Faith does not make us unfeeling, as foolish people imagine when they are out of danger. But although faith does not entirely take away the awareness of dangers, it tempers this awareness, ensuring the godly are not more afraid than is fitting, so that they may always be courageous and have a good hope.
So, even though Paul understood that the viper was a venomous creature, he still trusted in the promise made to him and did not fear its venomous bite so much that it distressed him, because he was even ready to die if it had been necessary.
"But they expected that he would have swollen, or fallen down dead suddenly: but when they were long in expectation and beheld nothing amiss came to him, they changed their minds, and said that he was a god." — Acts 28:6 (ASV)
Changing their minds, they said. This truly wonderful and sudden change should have deeply affected the men of Malta and moved them to give glory to the mercy of God, as they had previously attributed events to vengeance. But as human reason is always carried astray to extremes, they suddenly made Paul a god, whom they had previously considered a wicked murderer.
But if he had to be one or the other, it would have been better for him to be considered a murderer than a god. Indeed, Paul would rather have wished to be condemned, not only for one crime, but also to have endured all shame, and to have been thrust down into the deep pit of hell, than to take God's glory for himself—something those who had heard him preach amidst the storms knew very well.
Nevertheless, it may be that, after being taught later, they confessed that God was the author of the miracle.
Furthermore, let us learn from this history to wait with patient and quiet minds for the favorable outcome of things which at first seem to tend toward robbing God of His honor. Which of us would not have been terrified by this spectacle, which armed the wicked to slander the glory of the gospel with all kinds of slanderous speeches?
Yet we see how God, in due time, prevented this problem. Therefore, let us not doubt that after He has allowed His glory to be darkened by clouds of slander, He will send a remedy at the right time and will turn their darkness into light. In the meantime, let us remember that we must beware of the judgment of the flesh.
And because people always tend to forget their limits, let us ask God for the Spirit of moderation, that He may always keep us in the right balance. Furthermore, let us learn from this how ready the world is to fall into superstition. Indeed, this wickedness is, in a way, born with us: the desire to adorn creatures with what we take from God.
Therefore, it is no wonder that new errors have spread in all ages, since every one of us is an expert in inventing idols, even from his mother's womb. But lest people excuse themselves with this, this history testifies that the source of superstitions is that people are unthankful to God and give His glory to another.
"Now in the neighborhood of that place were lands belonging to the chief man of the island, named Publius, who received us, and entertained us three days courteously." — Acts 28:7 (ASV)
And in those places. Because this name, Publius, is a Roman name, I suspect that this man, of whom mention is made, was a citizen of Rome rather than born on the island. For the Greeks and other foreigners were not accustomed to borrow their names from the Latins unless they were men of little renown.
And it may be that some of the noblemen of Rome came then to see his possessions, and he is called the chief man of the island, not because he lived there, but because no one could compare with him in wealth and possessions. And it is hardly probable that the entire multitude of Greeks was lodged there for three days.
I rather think that when he entertained the centurion, he also honored Paul and his companions because, prompted by the miracle, he believed that Paul was a man beloved by God.
However that may be, his hospitality was not unrewarded. For shortly afterward, the Lord restored his father to health by the hand of Paul, who was indeed sick with a dangerous disease.
And by this, God intended to show how greatly the courtesy shown to people in misery and to strangers pleases Him. Although those who are helped may be unmindful and unthankful for the benefit they have received, or they may not be able to repay those who have done good to them, yet God Himself will abundantly restore to people whatever they have given at His command. Moreover, He has sometimes appointed some of His servants, who bring a blessing with them, to those who are merciful and practice hospitality.
This was a great honor, in that Publius lodged Christ in the person of Paul. Nevertheless, this was added as a surplus, because Paul came endowed with the gift of healing, so that he might not only repay Publius’s courtesy but also give more than he had received.
Also, we do not know whether he learned the first principles of faith, as miracles for the most part win the uninstructed and unbelievers to faith. Luke mentions the kind of disease so that he may better set forth the grace of God. For since it is a difficult matter to cure dysentery, especially when a fever is joined with it, the old man was cured so suddenly, only by the laying on of hands and prayer, not without the manifest power of God.
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