1. A sin which two have arranged is worse than one done singly, for there have been two consciences stifled, and, instead of love warning its dear one against defilement, it plunges both object and subject in the mire.
And Sapphira was “privy to it”-it was a sad revelation of domestic as well as of Church life. They had land. It was very striking indeed that any member of the original Church should have any land at all. It is one thing for a man to have a few coins in his hand, and another to have property in the soil-the soil you cannot burn, the soil that is always there. Ananias and Sapphira, it may be suggested, were perhaps the best-to-do people in the neighbourhood: “They sold a possession.”
Hear them talking the case over! They said when they saw all the pieces of silver lying before them, “Really this is too much; I think so: do you concur with me?” And Sapphira said, “Yes.” Here in the Church a man and his wife put their heads together to cheat the Cross, to rob the Holy Ghost!
When or wherein the soul is brought but to parley with an objection, then and therein unbelief is at work, whether it be as unto a particular fact or as unto our state. It was so with our first parents in the very entry of their treaty with Satan, in giving a considering audience unto that one question, “Hath God said so?” Our great Pattern hath showed us what our deportment ought to be in all suggestions and temptations. When the devil showed him “all the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them,” to tempt him withal, he did not stand and look upon them, viewing their glory, and pondering their empire, though he was fully assured that after all he could despise and trample upon the offer, and him that made it; but instantly, without stay, he cries, “Get thee hence, Satan.”1 [Note: John Owen, Of Temptation, chap. vii.]
2. One can fancy the awed silence that fell on the congregation, and the restrained, mournful movement that ran through it when Sapphira entered. Why the two had not come in company can only be conjectured. Perhaps the husband had gone straight to the Apostles after completing the sale, and had left the wife to follow at her convenience. Perhaps she had not intended to come at all, but had become alarmed at the delay in Ananias' return. She may have come in fear that something had gone wrong, and that fear would be increased by her not seeing her husband in her quick glance round the company.
If she came expecting to receive applause, the silence and constraint that hung over the assembly must have stirred a fear that something terrible had happened, which would be increased by Peter's question. It was a merciful opportunity given her to separate herself from the sin and the punishment; but her lie was glib, and indicated determination to stick to the fraud. That moment was heavy with her fate, and she knew it not; but she knew that she had the opportunity of telling the truth, and she did not take it. She had to make the hard choice which we have sometimes to make, to be true to some sinful bargain or be true to God, and she chose the worse part. Which of the two was tempter and which was tempted matters little. Like many a wife, she thought that it was better to be loyal to her husband than to God, and so her honour was “rooted in dishonour,” and she was falsely true and truly false.
The following poem, entitled “A Wife's Farewell to her Husband Going to the Front,” shows how honour may be chosen and become the highest loyalty on the part of the wife:-
How can I let thee go!-and how
So bear myself as to conceal
The pang of grief to which I bow,
Only my love and pride reveal.
How can I let thee go! and yet
I would not bid thee stay. Ah! no,
The claims of honour to forget,
The call of duty to forego.
Go forth, encompassed by my love,
Which many waters cannot drown.
May angels guard thee from above,
And God Most High defend His own.1 [Note: Church Family Newspaper.]