The First Foreign Mission: Cyprus
“As they ministered to the Lord, and fasted, the Holy Ghost said, Separate me Barnabas and Saul for the work whereunto I have called them. And when they had fasted and prayed, and laid their hands on them, they sent them away,” etc. — Acts xiii. 2-12.
“AS they ministered to the Lord and fasted, the Holy XjL Ghost said, Separate me Barnabas and Saul for the work whereunto I have called them.” While they were enjoying privileges for themselves, they heard the command to carry these privileges to others. Behold the natural history of missions! Freely ye have received, freely give. They possessed the gospel, and therefore they must spread it abroad.
Two were sent out together. They remembered the act of the Lord Jesus, how he sent out the seventy in pairs, and they will follow his example. The ministry of the Spirit is sovereign here on every side. Antioch is chosen as the first site of a Gentile Church, and consequently becomes the starting-point for the first foreign mission. The same features that commended the place to Imperial Rome as the Eastern capital, commended it to the apostles of the Lord as the headquarters of the kingdom that is not of this world. Situated in the East, it enjoyed, by the Orontes and the Mediterranean, easy access to Greece and Rome. From this great mart the glad tidings will be borne along with the stream of commerce to the nations of Africa and Europe.
The men chosen for foreign work in accordance with the mind of the Spirit, were the mightiest men. They did not send out some persons who had turned out useless at home. The foreign field always needs, and in that age actually obtained, the ablest labourers. I suspect the chief obstacle to the success of modern missions lies here. The Church at Antioch sent the cream of the ministry abroad; if they had sent the grounds, their success would have corresponded to their effort. Here and there in our own time, when the Spirit has descended in power, some men mighty in word and deed have taken the field, and the result has been a gain corresponding to the outlay; but it is the grief and the weakness of the Church at the present day that her chiefs are for the most part occupied at home.
They sent Barnabas and Saul. Barnabas had already been tried, and found faithful. His gravity, his authority, and his benevolence seemed to point him out as leader of the expedition. But they have at hand this young man Saul — a man of vast knowledge, of fiery zeal, of great courage, and unflagging perseverance, but withal not much tried and not much known. Send him out under the direction and influence of Barnabas, that his great talents may be turned to the best account. Soon shall the whole Church know that the Lord has destined this man for the foremost place. When the pair departed it was Barnabas and Saul; when they returned it was Paul and Barnabas.
Westward the expedition moved. Europe must be won to Christ. The light of life, like the natural sun, travels from the East.
The two missionaries were solemnly ordained to their specific work, and set out on their journey. Whether by land or by the river, they first travelled to Seleucia, the seaport of Antioch, on the Mediterranean, and taking ship at that port, they crossed over to Cyprus, the nearest of the large islands.
Having landed at Salamis, a town on the eastern side of Cyprus, they crossed the country without much delay or much success until they reached Paphos, the residence of the Roman governor, on the western shore. This was a place notorious for its licentiousness even in that age. It was the shrine of impurity for the heathen world. There the unclean spirit had his seat. These soldiers of Jesus Christ in their first campaign, marched right up to the capital of the enemy’s kingdom.
Among Roman provinces Cyprus was small. The governor held not the highest rank. One may suppose he was disappointed when he learned that this comparatively insignificant sphere was assigned to him, and envied the better fortune of competitors who obtained Gaul and Spain. He lived, however, to thank God for the providence that cast his lot in Cyprus. He did not enjoy so large a salary as the chief of a richer province, but he obtained through the missionaries a greater treasure.
This governor was a prudent man. He was thoughtful and sober. He was probably dissatisfied with the worn-out superstitions of idolatry, and longing for something solid on which his soul might lean. It is probable he asked Pilate’s question, “What is truth?” with an earnestness that Pilate never knew. Alas! when people in high places become earnest inquirers, false teachers swarm around them like flies, eager to suck sustenance from the wounds of the great. The governor had at this time in his train a certain fortune-teller, who called himself Elymas — that is, “the wise,” for the root in Arabic seems to be the same as the Turkish uhmoJi, or priest. This man’s own Hebrew name was Bar-jesus, “son of the Saviour.” He pretended, through soothsaying art, to cure the ailment of the governor’s spirit; and poor Sergius, precisely because he was ailing in spirit, had not force to throw off the incubus. The mountebank stuck to the governor, and fattened on his wealth. When the missionaries from Antioch reached the city, and opened their commission by preaching Christ, the governor sent a message to summon them to his court, that he might hear their doctrines. They willingly obeyed the summons, and presented themselves at the palace.
But the sorcerer, fearing lest his own influence should be destroyed, endeavoured to prevent the governor from listening to the gospel, or to hinder him from receiving, if he had already heard it. How eagerly the modern sorceress, who sits on the seven hills, strives to hinder a meeting between human souls and Christ in his Word!
At this stage we would be apt to say, What a pity that Elymas was on the spot to interfere with the good work when the Christian missionaries obtained an opportunity of preaching to the ruling classes at the capital! Nay; He doeth all things well. As Christ said when Lazarus died, “I am glad for your sakes that I was not there;” so he might say, in the case of Sergius Paulus, “I am glad for his sake that Elymas was there with his sorceries, seeking to turn away the deputy from the faith:” for the efforts of the sorcerer to turn him away were overruled as the means of bringing him near. If Elymas with his wicked arts had not been there, it is probable that the governor would not have been converted. In his later experience, Paul became well aware that the opposition by adversaries is often an essential means of success. On one occasion, reporting a very favourable opportunity for conducting his work, he describes it by two features — a wide door, and many adversaries. He seems to intimate that one of these two factors alone would not have constituted the opportunity which he valued and enjoyed. Both were needed. If there had not been a fierce wind blowing against his kite, it would not have been able to rise. The experienced missionary accordingly was glad of the storm.
Who shall tell whether the sermon would not have fallen flat on sleepy ears, and whether the governor would not have yawned the preacher away to make room for some new excitement, if the opposition of Elymas had not arrested his attention, and the judgment on Elymas had not struck him with astonishment? All things wrought for good: the things that happened then and there turned to the furtherance of the gospel.
Here first the name Paul appears; and Saul is not employed again, except in narratives of his earlier experience. Here, under his new name, Paul springs to the front, and he is never found in the second rank again. Now, first, he is fully installed into office as the Apostle of the Gentiles. It is in his short, sharp rebuke of Elymas that he reads himself in.
In allusion to the meaning of the sorcerer’s name, “son of the Saviour,” the apostle sternly denounces him as a “child of the devil;” and through inspiration speaks the sentence which God inflicts — the sentence of temporary blindness. This judgment falling on the adversary, convinced Sergius that Paul and Barnabas were men of God, and made him reverently listen to their word. “Then the deputy, when he saw what was done, believed, being astonished at the doctrine of the Lord.” What was done could not have enlightened and renewed the Roman; but it opened his mind for the reception of the word of life. Thus the Lord in providence at this day employs judgment-strokes of many different kinds to open a path for the gospel into hearts that otherwise would have remained closed. Welcome the Lord’s hand, even though its stroke be painful, when it prepares the way for the Lord’s word! If we had access to the great multitude who stand round the throne in white clothing, and could ask each saved saint to tell his own experience, probably nine out of every ten would answer that providence, generally feared and fretted at, came crushing forward first, and broke up a way for grace to follow.
The judgments of the Lord’s hand opened a way into the heart of Sergius for the Lord’s word. That word, when it entered, filled him with wonder. “He was astonished at the doctrine of the Lord,” After the storm and the thunder, the “still small voice” asserted its power. The story of the cross was a new thing to the Roman. It was not like the doctrine of the Greek philosophers: it was not like the doctrine of the Jewish soothsayer. These missionaries told the governor that God is love, and that he so loved the world that he gave his only Son to save the lost. They told him that God, in our nature, had given himself a sacrifice, the just for the unjust. As this doctrine fell on the governor’s ears, his heart melted. Felix trembled, and returned to his sin: Sergius trembled, and cleaved to Christ. One is taken and another left.
Poor Sergius had lived up to this time in a dark, sunless world. He was uneasy, and knew not what ailed him. He craved for light, and yet knew not where to find it. We know that he longed for something to satisfy his soul, for he kept the Jewish magician hanging about his court. He clutched a shadow; and this showed at least that he had an appetite for the substance. In his darkness he had heard of this man’s pretensions, and sent for him. “Can you strike some light for us, stranger? for we are in darkness unendurable here. Give us some light for our souls, if you can, by your magical arts.” To such a man, in such a mood, the doctrine of the Lord, when it was unfolded, was like the sunlight bursting through the primeval mist upon a hitherto benighted world. It was sight to the blind, and life to the dead.