Acts 18:17

And Gallio cared for none of those things.

The indifferentism of Gallio

Gallio is one of the most unfortunate characters in all history. It has been his fate to suffer at the hands of foes and friends. It was once the fashion to regard him in the light of this single incident, and to condemn him as selfishly indifferent to all interests but his own. Since he has been studied in the light of his history and character as described by other pens, the verdict has been reversed, and this incident has been interpreted as the action of an impartial, upright judge. The truth, as usual, lies between the two extremes. Gallio is neither so bad as his enemies would make him, nor so good as his friends would have him to be. He is simply a man of the world at his best, and has many modern representatives.

I. What Gallio did not care for.

1. Judaism; as is plain from his judgment. Whether right or wrong, it is quite evident, it was a matter of indifference to him, not only as a magistrate, but, if the spirit of his speech is to be taken into account, as a man.

2. Christianity; for he closed Paul’s mouth. This was not the case with Pilate, or Felix, or Festus, each of whom manifested some interest in the subject, and allowed its advocates to state their case.

3. Truth. Precisely the same issue was raised here as before other Roman tribunals, and, except at Philippi, was impartially discussed; but Gallio gagged the representative of Christianity, and allowed the Greeks to assault the representative of Judaism. Gallio neither knew nor cared on which side, if on either, lay the truth. And there are many Gallios today. The established order of things in religion, morals, politics, society, may remain for aught they care. On the whole, perhaps, it is better that they should remain; but if this order is disturbed by some bold revolutionist, it will not much matter, so long as he does not trouble them. They will be mixed up with neither. The parties may fight it out; and if a third party intervenes and crushes one, so much the better--there is one nuisance the less.

II. What Gallio did care for. What he was sent to Achaia to do. He was responsible to the home government for two things, and about these he was solely solicitous.

1. To administer justice. This he did with perfect impartiality, and in a way that warrants the encomiums passed upon him by his contemporaries. As a Roman judge, he knew nothing of Judaism, and so dismissed the charge against Paul as soon as he heard it, and refused to listen to his defence as superfluous, for he had been guilty of no offence against Roman law. If the mob assaulted Sosthenes that was his look-out; for the future he would mind his own business. And so our modern Gallios are simply men of one idea. That may be business, pleasure, politics, literature. Everything outside is a matter of indifference. “Let them fight it out amongst themselves.”

2. To maintain the supremacy of Roman rule. If Jews persecute Christians; if Greeks maltreat Jews--so much the better. The empire will have fewer malcontents to trouble it while they are trying to exterminate each other. “Divide and rule.” And so our modern Gallios view with equanimity controversies outside their sphere. In politics the one thing that gladdens the heart of the statesman is dissension among his opponents. The Christian advocate is calm in view of the utter want of unanimity on the part of the adversaries of the Cross; but so is the infidel as he contemplates the antagonism of Christian sects. If union is strength, dissension is weakness; and the best thing that Gallio can wish for is division among his foes.

III. By what motives Gallio was actuated.

1. Scepticism. Gallio was neither better nor worse than the cultivated gentlemen of his age. And we know that the culture of the first century was saturated with unbelief. Faith in Jupiter was gone, and no arguments had reached Gallio likely to replace Jupiter by either the Jehovah of Sosthenes or the Jesus of Paul. The thought of the nineteenth century is in this respect like that of the first, and it would be hard to find a mere exact parallel than between Matthew Arnold and Gallio.

2. Love of ease. To have subjected Sosthenes and Paul to a rigid cross-examination, to have pondered the evidence, and to have pronounced accordingly, would have sorely troubled the “sweet Gallio.” He wanted to be troubled neither in the government of his province nor in the government of himself. Sedition he would quell by driving it out, and social disturbers he would treat in a no less drastic fashion. “Don’t trouble us; settle these matters amongst yourselves” is the dictum of Gallio’s latest successors.

IV. The consequences which Gallio reaped.

1. Immediate success.

(1) Insurrection was put down, and the tranquillity of the province restored. Sosthenes was not likely to repeat the experiment.

(2) Paul was silenced, and so Gallio’s mind was left at ease, and neither Paul nor any other Christian advocate was ever likely again to trouble the proconsul.

2. Everlasting loss. Who can tell what might have happened had Gallio embraced the same opportunity as Felix or Festus? He might not have been able to save himself from death at the hands of Nero, with which one account credits him; but he would undoubtedly have saved himself from self-destruction, with which he is credited by another. And our modern Gallios may be able to silence reason and stifle conscience, and live above intellectual and moral care; but this will not annihilate the hereafter. Conclusion:

1. Face the truth, whatever it may be.

2. Side with the truth, whatever it may involve.

3. Follow the truth, wherever it may lead. (J. W. Burn.)

Indifference

1. To be named in the Bible is to be immortal. It is the misfortune of some names that they have found their way into the sacred book. All other records spoke well of them, living and dead, save this. What is this but to say that it is the misfortune of some lives to face an ordeal? Such was the case with Gallio. He refused, indeed, to condemn; but in escaping Scylla he incurs Charybdis, and becomes for all time the type of Indifference. The sweetness for which his friends love him in God’s sight is feebleness.

2. In this particular instance he was not to blame. The Jews are trading upon toleration to invoke intolerance. Orthodoxy? Yes. Nonconformity? No. It is a question, not of crime, but of words and names. He will have nothing to do with it; and when the Gentile mob retaliate, he will have nothing to do with that.

3. The decision was right, but not the motive, which was not justice, but indifference to right and wrong. Thus Gallio passes from the stage in which for a moment he has stood with the gospel to enjoy his highly-gained favour with the Corinthians, to his pleasures, to Rome, and to suicide.

I. Excuses for indifference.

1. Is not indifference a synonym for impartiality?

2. Look at the evil brought upon the world by that earnestness which is the opposite of indifference! When we see the harshness with which earnestness runs down opponents, it is almost refreshing to be in the presence of one who says, “We are all imperfect; live and let live.”

3. To all this we may reply that indifference in some matters may be harmless, and even advantageous. We are not called upon to be earnest about everything. Nevertheless, there is a vice called indifference, which is only too common in our age.

II. To what indifference is due.

1. Affectation. The man does feel. The indifference is a pretence.

2. Early forcing. The modern tendency is to precipitate manhood, and the result of juvenile precocity is adult apathy.

3. Reaction. Earnestness meets with a check, or wears itself out.

4. Suspense. There is an impression abroad that in this transitional period intelligent minds can find no rest, and the “honest doubter” is the hero of the hour.

5. Sorrow. Some affliction has been taken amiss, there has been a nursing of the loss, and so life has lost its zest; or, without this, there may be an unhappiness, vague and all pervading, which strangles every energy of being.

6. Sin. How listless towards duty, etc., the man who carries everywhere with him a guilty conscience.

III. The duty of interesting ourselves in something.

1. God has constituted us differently, and set us in a world fertile in choices. He is not indifferent who cultivates this taste, study, occupation, or that. But in something which is first pure, then vigorous, wholesome, and of good report. God expects each one to interest himself, and with his might.

2. And while He leaves us a wide choice, He sets before us two objects concerning which He offers no choice. He who says, “I love God,” and hateth his brother, is a Gallio; and so is he who says, “I cannot love God, but I will promote the welfare of society.” (Dean Vaughan.)

Religious indifference

I. The character of those things for which our Gallios do not care. Things--

1. For which the Creator cares.

2. Which receive their saving significance from the life and death of the Redeemer.

3. Into which angels desire to look.

4. In behalf of which our ancestors were willing to shed their blood.

5. In which our best friends are most deeply interested.

II. Some of the causes of this indifference.

1. A shallow misapprehension of the nature of religion.

2. Mental sloth.

3. Love of ease.

III. Its effect.

1. At death.

2. At judgment. (Biblical Museum.)

The social indifferentist

1. The things for which Gallio cared nothing were in one sense none of his business. He was the Roman proconsul of Achaia. As elsewhere, so at Corinth, the Greeks heard Paul, and were attracted to him. The Hebrews heard him, hated him, and dragged him before Gallio. But the question being one with which he had nothing to do, Gallio promptly dismissed it. But this was not the end. The Greeks on this occasion believed in the right of free speech, and, like a great many other champions of free speech, they proceeded to proclaim their sympathies by an act of personal violence (verse 17). And though it was without the smallest legal warrant, though it was even a more gross and disorderly breach of the peace than that which had preceded it, “Gallio cared for none of those things.” These dogs of Jews and these emasculated Corinthians, so long as the peace of the empire was undisturbed, what mattered it how much they quarrelled?

2. This is a picture of an amiable and cultivated indifferentism. Its conspicuous characteristic lay in this, that it betrayed an utter insensibility to the simplest principles of justice. Sosthenes and his co-religionists had undoubtedly done St. Paul a wrong; but they had done it under legal forms, and had appealed to the proconsul for their authority. The Greeks, on the other hand, had deliberately taken the law into their own hands. Undoubtedly, in a technical sense, this was no concern of Gallio’s; but, in another and very real sense, his indifference was neither wise, nor loyal, nor manly. If Gallio had really cared to win for the empire the trust and loyalty of her conquered peoples, he would have seen to is that no blow should be unjustly struck, nor any meanest citizen of Corinth, whether Jew or Greek, lightly or lawlessly wronged. But to have done this would have been to break through the crust of that passionless indifference which was the mark of culture in those days.

3. “But that,” we say, “was a pagan culture, and its fruit “was worthy of the tree. We are not pagans, but Christians, and are bound inflexibly to repudiate the principles of such a man.” But what are the facts? One distinguishing mark of our Christian civilisation is a development of individual reserve. We learn to conceal emotions, or at least to chasten their expressions. Tell someone a story of wrong, or want, or sorrow, and the chances are you will get the answer, “Really, how very unpleasant. Can you not find something more agreeable to talk about than that?” Nor is this wholly surprising or without excuse. My neighbour is thrown into a spasm of torture by a musical discord, which my less tutored faculty scarce perceives. It hurts him; and, to leave that fact out of account in judging of the way in which he endures a series of discords, is neither just nor kindly. Now then, it is a result of culture that it makes the sensibilities infinitely more susceptible to external impressions. And therefore it is not unnatural that some natures should be unwilling to hear of the miseries that are torturing so many of their fellow men, nor that, refusing to know about such things, they cease, before long, to care about them. It is the old picture of Gallio watching through the parted drapery the scourging of Sosthenes in the street. It is not an engaging spectacle. Here at hand is the last chronicle of the busy and brilliant life of Rome. Here is the last roll that has come from the pen of Seneca. How much pleasanter to lose one’s self in the pages of Ovid or Lucullus or Martial, instead of going out into the hot sun to stop a street fight between a herd of fanatical Israelites and Corinthians! And so, today, there is a large class that finds it far pleasanter to draw the curtains upon the crime and sorrow that are without, while they have the freshest voice in song or story to beguile them.

4. And yet how utterly is this to miss the noblest end of culture, whose function is not merely to train the powers for enjoyment, but first and supremely for helpful service. And then what is the religion of Jesus Christ but to bring Christ into our common life, and so ennoble that life by the sweetness and sanctity which He alone can shed upon it? Shall we selfishly turn to Him to comfort us, and catch no impulse from His life to reach out and comfort our brethren? Did He come only to teach us how to build handsome churches and keep them for ourselves? Oh, no; it was not merely for you and me that Christ died, but for humanity. Into the culture of that elder time He came to put the one ingredient that it needed supremely to ennoble it--a Divine unselfishness. He came to kill out that torpid indifference that could see cruelty and injustice, and “care for none of those things,” and to supplant it with an inextinguishable and self-forgetting love. Every now and then our ears are startled by some brutal deed, that makes us shudder for our kind. And, reading of it amid our own safe and comfortable surroundings, we cry out, “How shocking! How barbarous! Where were the police?” At best a municipal discipline, however admirable, can only repress and punish the outward manifestations of our social evils. The medicine that shall heal them must be drawn from the Cross. And Christians must be the channels through which the throbbing tide of sympathy shall reach and heal the sorrows and the sins of our fellows. The other day, in Wales, the waters broke out in a colliery. There were four hundred men at work below the surface, and, panic stricken, they rushed to the mouth of the pit and touched the telegraph, when, to their horror, they remembered that that morning the signal wire had parted, and had not yet been mended. With the energy of despair, one of them, trained at sea, flung himself against the rugged sides of the shaft, and, with a grasp that seemed a superhuman endowment given him for the moment, scaled the perpendicular wall until he came to the break in the wire. The parted ends hung within a few inches of each other, but how was he to join them together? To let go his hands and strive to reach them thus was death to himself and death to those below him. Suddenly, with an inspiration born of the dire peril, he grasped one end in his mouth, and reaching then with agonising effort for the other, caught the two between his lips, reunited thus the parted wire, and re-established the electric current that told to those above the danger and signalled swiftly back again the coming of deliverance. What he climbed up to do you and I must climb down to do. There is a vast multitude below us that our lips and hands and feet must bring into living and saving relations with the Son of God.

5. Not to care when others, no matter how obscure or remote from us, are going down to hell, is not Christianity, but paganism blank and heartless; and such paganism is very full of peril. The social problem now confronting us is one of the gravest and most threatening problems of our time. The labourer does not love the capitalist, and the capitalist does not always understand the labourer. But we shall not finally silence the heresies of the communist with the bullets of the militia. Over against the unreason of the working man we must rear something better than the stern front of a stony indifference. If his misfortunes are not our fault, none the less he himself is our brother. And somehow--anyhow--we must make him feel that we account him so. (Bp. H. C. Potter, D. D.)