In the same quarters were possessions of the chief man of the island, whose name was Publius.
Publius
Here is--
I. An obscure man made famous. History says nothing about Publius. As far as the Roman annalists are concerned, such a man might not have lived. They were busy with the Neros, Felixes, Agrippas--names whom the world would willingly let die. Yet the obscure governor of Melita is a personage known and reverenced in thousands of households. Why? Because he was brought into contact with that sect which was then “everywhere spoken against,” and secured a record in its sacred book. What he did would have been utterly beneath the notice of writers whose office it was to record the scandals of courts or the horrors of war. He only lodged a few poor Christians for three days and courteously. What he received as recompense was what no existing medical journal thought fit to record--the cure of his father’s fever. But He whose ways are higher than our ways, and who said that a cup of cold water given to a needy disciple should in no wise lose its reward, has ordained that this man should have a memorial when most of his illustrious contemporaries should have sunk in oblivion. Learn that true immortality is only to be obtained by connection with or service to the Christian cause. Better to receive by and by the “Well done,” than now to wear the most glittering coronet.
II. A chief man condescending. Monarchs, governors, statesmen, are usually concerned only or chiefly with their dignity. How difficult it is to secure even a momentary interview from the chief man of a given place. Or if they do stoop, as candidates for parliamentary honours, it is only for their own purposes. These achieved, the distance between them and the vulgar herd is as wide as ever. Here, however, we have the governor of Melita, with no ulterior purposes, and from motives of pure humanity, receiving shipwrecked prisoners, and receiving them courteously. Noblesse oblige. Whatever the opinions and practices of the world, the truest nobility is to use power and station for the purpose of doing good. Thank God, we have had, and have, many modern Publiuses--e.g., the Earl of Shaftesbury. If we had more of them, the aristocracy would have little to fear from the democracy.
III. A potentate impotent. Publius had authority to secure and money to buy what can be bought and secured in the way of human happiness. He had command of the island, with all its resources, and the state was not niggardly in the remuneration of its officers. But a trouble entered the precincts of the governor’s palace, that neither power nor wealth could grapple with. His father was ill, and Publius was as impotent as the poorest and the weakest in the island to make him well. The limitations which condition the greatest should make them humble. All alike are powerless in the presence of disease and death.
IV. A Roman indebted to a Christian. There was one man on the island who could help this helpless potentate, and that was the shipwrecked prisoner Paul. And Paul was not slow to render the help required. Fair type of the services Christianity renders to the world. Even in a secular sense, in matters relating to the accumulation of wealth, the cure of bodily disease, the management of public affairs, Christians are the salt of the earth. Learn--
1. The emptiness of mere earthly dignities. “‘Tis only noble to be good.” This ensures immortality.
2. The reward of hospitality. Like “mercy,” and the other virtues to which it is allied, it is twice blessed. Many, as here, have entertained angels unawares.
3. The value of the meanest ministries. The advice of a prisoner rejected led to shipwreck; this taken, it led to the saving of a life.
4. The supremacy of Christianity in times of trouble. Paul was the last man whom Publius would have consulted under ordinary circumstances; but he was glad of him now. Christianity may be despised in times of prosperity; but it can afford to wait. Its time will assuredly come. (J. Burn.)
Five remarkable things
I. That Paul should have healed and not Luke. Luke was a physician; Paul was a tent maker and preacher. Yet Luke healed none; he kept the diary, and said nothing about his own professional talent. This is exactly what is taking place today. It is religion that heals; the medicines are grown in God’s garden. The physician has to go out of himself for his remedy, and he does you good in proportion as he leads you out of yourself. We are healed by God. Christianity so nourishes the fountain of life, and renews the springs of energy, as to touch the particular through the general. If we were hidden in God, we should have no disease in the sense of burden and trouble. The black visitant would still darken our dwelling; but we should have joy in tribulation, and know that death was abolished. When you take Christianity out of your civilisation, you do not know what a vacancy you leave behind.
II. That the poorest should have rendered help to the richest. Publius was the first man in the island, and Paul the poorest; yet he, the penniless apostle, healed the father of the first man. That is what sanctified poverty is always doing. Do not pity the poor: pity the rich. What folly is spoken about the poor!--God’s chosen ones, the very elect of His household, the crowned ones in His kingdom. Remember, I speak about disciplinary poverty! not thriftless want. The world would not be worth living in but for its poor people. “The Son of Man had not where to lay His head.” What, then, did He give? Himself! We have not begun to give. He gives who gives life. That is what Paul did here: he gave life; virtue went out of him. What healing influence the poorest are continually exercising! The poor mother has done more for the world than her rich son can ever do. The poor people are keeping the world sweet and wholesome.
III. That the ministry upon the island was all healing and no preaching (verse 9). That is the glory of the Christian ministry--it can begin anywhere, at any time, and with any man. Christianity has no dignities to put on, no ceremonies or processes of etiquette through which to pass. It meets men everywhere and says, “All hail! What is your burden, your sorrow, your most urgent need?” It will be a long time before people can have the prejudice cleansed out of them that the church building is only for distinctively doctrinal and spiritual purposes. The Father’s house is for everything good. There is no reason why this church should not be a hospital, a school house, a reading room, a place for music and conversation, and instruction in all high and useful knowledge. The Church sends men to school to become preachers; I would have the Church send men to hospitals to become doctors, to academies to become musicians, to trades to become honest tradesmen. We are too narrow. Find a man in need anywhere and say, “All hail! we want you”; and I am doing God’s will as truly in sending an honest-hearted boy to learn a trade, by which he can do good work, as in sending him to be a missionary. One day with Paul would do much towards rearranging and enlarging Christian influence. Did Paul not preach, then, when he healed? Every healing is a sermon; every visit to the poor, paid in the right spirit, is a prayer. Whatever good you do in the name and for the sake of Christ, is a proclamation of Christ.
IV. The grateful response which was made by the islanders (verse 10). How musically the verse reads! Mark the redundance of the thankfulness! It was not a fee that was claimed; it was a benefaction that was conferred under the inspiration of gratitude; and that spirit continues unto this day. There will always be some ungrateful people; but we must not speak of the exceptions. The great human heart is, after all, a grateful heart, and it will honour those that try to the best of their ability to do good.
V. The inspiring influence of friendship (verse 15). Reading between the lines, we wonder if Paul’s courage had given way for one little moment. It would seem as if the lion himself might have been affected with momentary depression. We might never have heard of it but for the returning courage. Some men never tell us they have been ill until they tell us that they are quite well again. We get nearer to Paul when we feel that he has been in the valley. It was the habit of the ancients to go out to meet princes, and to stand on the road to wait for the great one, and to accompany him. The brethren went to where the road forked. They would have gone farther, but not knowing whether they might come by the right road or by the left, they stood at the point and waited for their prince. When Paul saw them he knew them. How is it that we know some men at once, and fall almost instantly into common masonry? When Paul saw the Christians up went his hands in thanksgiving; and having thanked God, he became a great lion again, full of courage. “Iron sharpeneth iron; so a man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend.” We need human associations and cheering. The day is very short; let us do no unkindness in it, but make it glow with deeds of noble friendship and make it sing with the music of truest Christian love! (J. Parker, D.)
Good in Christianity
The conduct of the Maltese towards Paul manifested the good in heathenism, and now the conduct of Paul gives an insight into the good in Christianity. Here is--
I. The supernatural. Paul cured Publius’s father; but he only did that which was part of his apostolic mission. “They shall take up serpents … they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover.” The supernaturalness of Christianity may be argued--
1. From the history of Christ and His apostles.
2. From the manifest incapacity of human nature to evolve such a system.
3. From the utter insufficiency of good in any natural form to produce the results which Christianity has achieved.
II. The restorative. “Paul entered in and prayed,” etc. The supernatural power with which Paul was endowed was not to destroy men’s lives, but to save them. In all the miracles of Christ, there is only one of destruction. Christianity--
1. Redeems men from moral diseases -- error, carnality, selfishness, impiety.
2. By redeeming men from moral diseases, it redeems them from all others, bodily, social, political. Its grand consummation will be the redemption of the entire man, body and soul, from all evil.
III. The impartial and universal (verse 9). The healing of Publius’s father was only the beginning. Paul treated all alike, and knew of no distinction of birth, influence, or position. Christianity is no respecter of persons, but offers salvation to all--barbarian, Scythian, bond, and free. (D. Thomas, D.)
Prayer with the sick
Prayer with and for the sick is always in place. Sometimes the sick one may be unconscious to all around, and it may be thought prayer would not be beneficial; but who can tell? At any rate, God hears. A minister on one occasion had visited a man upon his death bed who was delirious, and, returning home, met the great Dr. Thomas Chalmers. “Well,” said Dr. Chalmers, “did you pray with him?” “No, he was delirious; but I prayed with the family.” “Ah! you did wrong, sir! Who knows but that some old strain of thought might have been stirred up by the tones of a familiar voice? You did very wrong, sir!” There is instruction in that.