The book of Acts is a pretty exciting read. Once God sent his Holy Spirit on the day of Pentecost, his followers experienced miracles, healings, gifts of the Spirit, and many other fantastic manifestations of the living God present and moving amongst them.
Most of the latter part of the book follows the apostle Paul. Once a persecutor of Christians, he experienced an incredible revelation of Jesus on the road to Damascus, and one of the greatest evangelists was spiritually birthed.
One of Paul’s missionary journeys took him to Philippi, where he and his traveling companion Silas managed to get themselves into trouble by leading a slave girl to Jesus. Formally a lucrative source of income for her master, this slave had the ability to predict the future until Paul set her free from the demonic spirit that controlled her. Her owners were so angry to have their business shut down overnight that they dragged Paul and Silas before the authorities, claiming they were causing an uproar in the city and teaching customs that were illegal for Roman citizens to practice. The two men were stripped and beaten with wooden rods, then secured in a prison cell with their feet clamped in the stocks just to make sure they didn’t try their hands at being escape artists.
I have heard so many sermons preached on this story – on how, when most of us would have been grumbling, complaining, or crying out to God for mercy, Paul and Silas spent their night having a praise party. Verse 25 says: “Around midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the other prisoners were listening.” I don’t suppose they were being quiet about it either.
Just as their praises reached their crescendo at midnight, we are told in verse 26 that there was a massive earthquake, and the prison was shaken to its foundations. All the doors flew open, and the chains of every prisoner fell off. Wow! Can you imagine it! Their songs of praise literally made the jailhouse rock, and suddenly, all the prisoners had the chance to go free.
In the middle of all that, the jailer woke up, and immediately realised the prison doors were open. Imagine his horror! To understand its full depths, we need to realise that a Roman jailer who lost his prisoners would have been forced to pay for his negligence with his own life. So this man must have thought: “I’m doomed! My superiors are going to kill me!” This is probably why verse 27 tells us that he drew his sword ready to kill himself.
However, one sentence from Paul soon calmed the jailer down. Verse 28 says: “But Paul shouted to him, “Stop! Don’t kill yourself! We are all here!”” Such was the relief of the jailer that he fell down before Paul and Silas asking what he had to do to be saved, and that night, a whole family came to Jesus.
This story is fairly well known and a regular text for sermons on the power of praise. Yet as I considered it again recently, I saw something new. Let’s just imagine we were in that prison cell. Close your eyes and picture it – the damp, the dark, the fear … Imagine you were one of the other prisoners. How would you have felt if, in the middle of the darkness and despair, you suddenly heard two men’s voices raised in praise to their God? How long would it have taken you to join in? I imagine their praise was infectious because genuine praise often is.
Then suddenly, you were free to leave. The doors were open, and the way out of the prison was clear. Wouldn’t your first instinct be to just leg it and get out of there? Freedom is staring you in the face. A miracle had happened. So why didn’t they leave? Why, with the doors wide open and their chains thrown to the ground like useless bits of metal, did all those prisoners simply stay where they were? I think it had a lot to do with the influence of Paul and Silas. Clearly, they had earned the respect and admiration of the other prisoners with their praising, so I imagine the others were waiting to see what they would do.
So now let’s try and put ourselves in Paul’s shoes. This wasn’t the first time God had instigated a miraculous prison break. In Acts chapter 12, something similar happened to Peter. He was awaiting trial and was chained to soldiers in a prison while others stood guard at the gate. In his case, God sent an angel to wake Peter up and lead him out of the prison. As in the example of Paul and Silas, Peter’s chains immediately fell off, and he and the angel left, walking boldly past the guards. I imagine Paul might have known about peter’s escape. I’m sure it was legendary. Especially the part about the city gate opening by itself to allow Peter through.
Yet where Peter knew it was right to leave, Paul felt God wanted him to stay in a place where his logical brain must have known it wasn’t safe to remain. For all Paul knew, the jailer, once awakened, would laugh at him and the other prisoners for not taking their chance to escape when they could, re-lock the doors and re-fasten their chains. I have to confess that had it been me, I probably would have bolted as soon as I realised I could. After all, this was a miracle. No one but God could have snapped iron chains and thrown open heavy locked doors.
Personally, I believe Paul’s decision to stay was a direct response to the promptings of the Holy Spirit. Yes, freedom was staring him in the face, but Paul valued the spiritual freedom of others much more than his own physical comfort. Had he and the other prisoners escaped, the jailer would have died without having a chance to get to know Jesus. For Paul, the priority was always going to be the salvation of souls, so he stayed, took his chances, and God gave him an opportunity to witness that led to the salvation of many. Although we aren’t specifically told, I imagine many if not all of his fellow-prisoners also became Christians that night.
As I read this story, I pondered the value I place on my own physical comfort, and I asked myself if I could make Paul’s sacrifice. I reasoned that surely, if God gave me the chance for miraculous freedom, I should take it. If I didn’t, that would be an insult. It’s funny how we can make all kinds of excuses, many of which sound super-spiritual. Yet the truth is that I am selfish by nature, and I often put my own comfort before the greater needs of others.
The jailer wasn’t Paul’s friend. He was his enemy. He represented captivity and possible death. Had he killed himself or been punished by the Romans, then that would have served him right, wouldn’t it? Paul didn’t see it that way. Where many of us would see an enemy, Paul saw a brother in waiting. So he risked his own safety and freedom to give this jailer a chance, and the rest, as they say, is history. I want to learn from Paul – to come to a place where I value the freedom of others more than my own. I also desire to be more in tune with the holy Spirit, so he can change my agenda at a moment’s notice to line up with his.
There are people imprisoned all around us. They may seem to be walking around freely, but they are chained by doubts and unbelief. There is no true freedom outside of the knowledge of Jesus. Those of us who already know him are already free, no matter what the world may try and do to us. We have already discovered what matters most. So let’s be bold in proclaiming the good news as Paul was, even if that means risking our own freedoms and creature comforts. When we think about it in terms of heaven or hell, life, or death, then the sacrifice seems more worthwhile, doesn’t it?