The Title of the Book. The Book which we know as ‘The Acts of the Apostles,’ or, by a very natural abbreviation, simply as ‘The Acts,’ has borne this title from at least the middle of the second century. It is not, however, a perfectly appropriate title. It is quite obvious that the task to which the author addressed himself was something different from the recital of the deeds of the Apostles, whether severally or in their collective labours. It is altogether probable that he gave the Book no title at all. To him it was no separate ‘treatise,’ as it is miscalled in our English version of its first verse, but only a Second Book of a larger treatise, with the First Book of which it shared the common title of the whole work. We have now no means of confidently determining what this common title was. When the two Books, of which the work consisted (so far at least as it was ever completed), were separated and assigned places, in the current copies of the New Testament, appropriate to the nature of the contents of each, a separate title was given to each, and the general title common to the two (if such a formal general title ever existed) passed out of use and memory. From the Preface to the whole work, which stands at the head of its First Book, we may learn the author’s purpose in writing. From the Preface to the Second Book we may obtain a notion of how the two Books are related to one another. This will enable us still to read them both in the light of the author’s conception of them.
The First Book of the Extended Historical Treatise, of which our so-called Acts of the Apostles is the Second, is the Book that has come down to us under the name of ‘The Gospel according to Luke.’ This is assured by the unbroken testimony of antiquity, which ascribes both Books to the same author. It is evidenced further, however, by most convincing internal proofs. Both Books are addressed to the same patron, a Gentile Christian of high rank named Theophilus. In the Preface attached to the Gospel much more is promised than that Book supplies, while what is lacking is actually given in Acts. The Gospel closes abruptly, apparently pointing forward to something yet to come; Acts so opens as to supply precisely what was thus left untold, and fully accounts for the manner in which the Gospel closed. Acts explicitly puts itself forward in its Preface as the Second Book of a treatise, to the First Book of which is ascribed the compass and contents of the Gospel of Luke. The two Books are bound together by such kinship, not only in language, style, and historical method, but also in tone, point of view, and underlying purpose, as to suggest not merely that they are the products of a single pen, but also that they are parts of one whole. It is difficult to refuse to recognise in these two Books, in short, consecutive portions of a large historical work, written throughout with a single aim and on a carefully-adjusted plan, and intended to make a definite impression as a whole.
Place of Acts in the Treatise. It is more difficult to determine whether we have in the Gospel of Luke and Acts the whole of the historical treatise projected by the author. It is possible to contend that these two Books fairly meet the promise of the General Preface (Luke i. 1-4). What seems to be promised there is a comprehensive, accurate, orderly history of the origins of Christianity—such a history as would lay a basis for confidence with respect to what had, up to the time of writing, been consummated among Christians. The writer’s mind, clearly, was filled with a sense of the great achievement of Christianity in the world. A stage of development had been attained which could be looked upon as a consummation; and which could be considered a goal as leading up to which the whole previous history could be contemplated. The point of sight cannot, accordingly, have been merely the ascension of Christ; this marked a point rather of inception than of consummation. It does not seem impossible, however, that the point of sight should be taken from the completion of the work of Paul as Apostle to the Gentiles, as marked, say, at least potentially, by his arrival at Rome and his two years of unhindered preaching in the capital of the world. The spectacle exhibited in the Acts of the rapid advance of the Gospel from its starting-point, and the progressive establishment of the Christian Church in the great centres of population and influence from Jerusalem to Rome, might well seem accomplishment enough to satisfy the sense of the attainment of great things which underlies the calm but pregnant words of the Preface.
Nevertheless, it does not seem likely that these two Books constitute the whole treatise which the author had it in mind to write. Acts closes after a fashion quite like the closing of Luke, and with all and more of its suggestion of something to follow. If the way in which the Gospel ends seems abrupt and unsatisfying on the supposition that it is the end of the story, much more is this true in the case of Acts. The reader’s expectation has been kept on the strain through many chapters for the climax of the visit to Rome (xix. 21, xxiii. 11, xxv. 11, 21, 28, xxvii. 24, xxviii. 14, 16; cp. Rom. i. 10-15, xv. 22-29), and his interest has been apparently purposely fixed upon the approaching trial of Paul before the Emperor of the world (xxv. 10, xxvii. 24). Yet, when the culmination of the whole story is attained, absolutely nothing is made of it. Paul reaches Rome, calls the leaders of the Jewish community there to a conference—apparently to ascertain whether they were primed to press for his condemnation—and, then, the trial itself is not even mentioned, and all that the reader has been led to believe that the fulfilment of Paul’s long-cherished desire to reach Rome meant to the Apostle drops utterly out of sight. The Book closes abruptly with the brief remark that he preached two whole years at Rome without molestation. These two years were, it must be borne in mind, already past when these words were penned. The change that the limitation of time implies had taken place; and the change was either release or execution. How could the author intend to leave his readers uninformed of the issue? It seems incredible that the work should close in this manner. But that the Book should close thus lies in the very nature of the case, and stands in very close analogy with the manner in which the First Book of this history is brought to its close. Surely every reader reaching the end of the Second Book would confidently expect yet a Third, to which this mode of closing pointed not obscurely.