A Reflection for Saturday of the Sixth Week of Easter
Find today’s readings here.
A Jew named Apollos, a native of Alexandria,
an eloquent speaker, arrived in Ephesus.
He was an authority on the Scriptures.
He had been instructed in the Way of the Lord and,
with ardent spirit, spoke and taught accurately about Jesus,
although he knew only the baptism of John.
He began to speak boldly in the synagogue;
but when Priscilla and Aquila heard him,
they took him aside
and explained to him the Way of God more accurately.
And when he wanted to cross to Achaia,
the brothers encouraged him
and wrote to the disciples there to welcome him.
After his arrival he gave great assistance
to those who had come to believe through grace. (Acts 18:24-27)
There is an adage of St. Thomas Aquinas that every philosophy student learns early on: Quidquid recipitur ad modum recipientis recipitur. “Whatever is received is received according to the condition of the receiver.” It sounds like a rather modern sentiment despite being eight centuries old, doesn’t it? Perspective means a lot. It came to my mind when I read today’s first reading from Acts, the tale of Apollos preaching in Ephesus, because the story hit different this time.
The divisions that wrack our civil society are also often present in our church, and typically when one hears of Apollos in a homily, it is to show a scriptural example of harmony amid diversity. Paul and Apollos could have been rivals, enemies even, given that both were “an authority on the Scriptures,” and both seemed to be somewhat honey-tongued when it came to preaching. And yet they not only coexisted, but Apollos watered what Paul planted in terms of evangelization. A beautiful example of Christian communion, no?
But in this passage from Acts, Paul’s not around—he has already sailed for Jerusalem. Instead, something more curious happens: Apollos is corrected by Priscilla and Aquila, two of Paul’s “fellow workers in Christ Jesus” who are sometimes his travel companions and who preside over a church in their own home. Paul seems to have met this married couple first because they were also tentmakers, exiles from Rome. They are presumably not as well educated as Paul or Apollos, and yet it is clear that they have authority there in Ephesus. Apollos doesn’t take umbrage when they pull him aside and explain the Word of God more accurately to him.
For this reason, Priscilla and Aquila are both considered by many scholars to be exercising a pastoral function in Ephesus, Corinth and elsewhere. It offers the intriguing possibility that they were the equivalent of priests or deacons, which has bearing on current discussion in the church about the possibility of a female diaconate. But questions of ordained ministry aside, they offer something else: a Scriptural example of the importance of ordinary people of faith on the local level.
There’s no parish church in Ephesus, in Corinth; there’s no public pulpit either. Preachers like Paul and Apollos go to the synagogue or to the streets to evangelize. Meanwhile, the early Christian communities are worshiping and sharing the Gospel in house churches—house churches like the one maintained by Priscilla and Aquila. People like them provide the structure of the early church; people like them take care of the practical realities of the community of believers. (What do we share in common? How do we? Who looks after the newcomer? Who corrects the wrongdoer?) Their authority comes from their service and their witness as much or more as it does from their ability to preach or parse the Gospel.
It is often the Priscilla and Aquila in all of our lives, really, who show us “the Way of God more accurately.”
