"I'd Rather Have Jesus Than Anything"

Acts 16:16–34 ESV

As we were going to the place of prayer, we were met by a slave girl who had a spirit of divination and brought her owners much gain by fortune-telling. She followed Paul and us, crying out, “These men are servants of the Most High God, who proclaim to you the way of salvation.” And this she kept doing for many days. Paul, having become greatly annoyed, turned and said to the spirit, “I command you in the name of Jesus Christ to come out of her.” And it came out that very hour. But when her owners saw that their hope of gain was gone, they seized Paul and Silas and dragged them into the marketplace before the rulers. And when they had brought them to the magistrates, they said, “These men are Jews, and they are disturbing our city. They advocate customs that are not lawful for us as Romans to accept or practice.” The crowd joined in attacking them, and the magistrates tore the garments off them and gave orders to beat them with rods. And when they had inflicted many blows upon them, they threw them into prison, ordering the jailer to keep them safely. Having received this order, he put them into the inner prison and fastened their feet in the stocks. About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them, and suddenly there was a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the prison were shaken. And immediately all the doors were opened, and everyone’s bonds were unfastened. When the jailer woke and saw that the prison doors were open, he drew his sword and was about to kill himself, supposing that the prisoners had escaped. But Paul cried with a loud voice, “Do not harm yourself, for we are all here.” And the jailer called for lights and rushed in, and trembling with fear he fell down before Paul and Silas. Then he brought them out and said, “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?” And they said, “Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved, you and your household.” And they spoke the word of the Lord to him and to all who were in his house. And he took them the same hour of the night and washed their wounds; and he was baptized at once, he and all his family. Then he brought them up into his house and set food before them. And he rejoiced along with his entire household that he had believed in God.

We’re heading back behind bars this morning, a familiar place in Acts. We’ve been there three times so far. In Acts 4 and 5, several of the apostles were jailed by the religious leaders. In Acts 12, King Herod placed Peter in prison again—there we read how he was guarded by “four squads of four soldiers” and was “bound with two chains.”

Yet we’ve encountered that the measures taken to lock them up didn’t always work. In chapter 5, “…an angel of the Lord opened the doors of the jail and brought [the apostles] out,” telling them, “‘Go, stand in the temple courts…and tell the people the full message of this new life.’” In chapter 12, “…An angel of the Lord appeared and a light shone in the cell. He struck Peter on the side and woke him up. ‘Quick, get up!’ he said, and the chains fell off Peter’s wrists. Then the angel said to him, ‘Put on your clothes and sandals…Wrap your cloak around you and follow me’…Peter followed him out of the prison, but he had no idea that what the angel was doing was really happening; he thought he was seeing a vision….”

Occasionally the early church leaders were freed by divine intervention. Another important piece to not forget is the response of the church in these times. In chapters 4 and 12, we read how the church prayed to God both during the imprisonments and after they were done. In chapter 5, we heard the apostles left “rejoicing because they had been counted worthy of suffering disgrace for the Name.” Suffering persecution for their faith and ministry was celebrated and freedom from persecution was celebrated. It doesn’t appear the length or conclusion of one’s suffering matters as much as trusting God, seeking his will, and remaining faithful with his help.

Up till now, Paul is recorded as having only been persecuted with “vigilante justice,” mobs executing their judgment without trial. But that changes today. The tables are about to completely turn from when we first met Saul in Acts 8, where he was the one imprisoning Christians.

Brothers and sisters in Christ, it feels a little bit odd to preaching on this side of communion. Typically, the sacrament confirms the message that we’ve heard all throughout the service. Yet this works, too, not just because of the COVID-19 circumstances, but because our participation in communion is not the end of the story. Jesus has not come back yet, and so the Holy Spirit is nourishing us for our lives which continue here on earth. These lives aren’t meant just for idle waiting or doing what we please, but we are to continue sharing the good news.

Thinking about evangelism—sharing our faith with others, telling them about the good news of salvation that we have put our faith in, and which we believe is also offered to them through faith in Christ alone—all of us have different comfort levels and feelings towards it. As an idea, evangelism is great. Yet as a practice, I’m sure we have a lot of different ideas and maybe we feel inadequate about doing it or we shy away from it or we don’t make or take time for it.

For some the idea of going to door-to-door, canvasing a neighborhood, feels like a great idea. If I invited you to join me this afternoon, I’m guessing there’d be a few takers. Yet others, maybe even a lot of us cringe at that. It makes us think of Jehovah’s Witnesses coming around, and maybe you’re guilty like me of having acted like you’re not home when they come knocking. Perhaps evangelism makes you think of people preaching hellfire and brimstone and damnation on a street corner or in a public area with a microphone, or maybe not as loud, passing out bottles of water or some other objects with a Bible verse on them or a tract attached.

If we’re not in the practice of doing this, starting up conversations about faith and salvation, evangelism tends to feel awkward. There are a number of ideas that might go into these conversations—do they know who Jesus is, have they read the Bible, if they died tonight, where do they think they’d go or what would happen? While these are relatively basic questions, they can feel awkward, because we don’t know where or how the conversation will go.

I’ll admit this is something I struggle to do. It’s much, much easier, and more comfortable for me to have someone ask me questions than to approach them first. I play all sorts of scenarios out in my mind. If I go up to someone and find out they already believe, do I just say, “Have a nice day,” and move on, or do we keep talking, grateful that we don’t have to breach a potentially difficult discussion? What if I go to someone who gets angry or mocks me; have I wasted my time? What if they ask me something I haven’t studied up for—I don’t want to drop the ball with something as significant as heaven or hell for eternity—maybe it’s better to avoid this altogether. I think, too, about a friend who went to a country that’s not very open to Christianity with the purpose and hope of evangelizing young adults there. To share his faith put his life at risk. Whereas here in the United States, he could talk to anyone anytime in whatever way, there it was important to develop a relationship, to develop trust before getting into some of these matters.

As is the case with so much of the book of Acts, the crux of this passage boils down to sharing the gospel. It comes down to sharing Jesus with people who either hadn’t heard of him or who did not believe. The all-important point that we can’t lose track of is verses 30 and 31, where the jailer, a non-believer, asked the greatest question, “‘Sirs, what must I do to be saved?’ They replied, ‘Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved—you and your household.’” If he would believe, which it appears he genuinely did, his life would be changed. Jesus and what Jesus commands and offers should transform this man’s views and beliefs, his desires, his occupation, his relationships—his entire life. The gospel and evangelism should change everything not just for him, but for every person, every man and woman, boy and girl, who professes Christ.

I think I’ve made that statement or similar ones throughout this series, but I want to be very clear about the source of our change. It is the God who is in and behind the gospel who changes everything. Our passage begins with a somewhat confusing case: a slave girl, possessed by a spirit that enabled her to tell fortunes was annoying the missionaries with her announcements of what they were in this city to do. After a while, Paul had enough, and cast it out.

           I have questions, “Why didn’t Paul get rid of the spirit sooner?” “Was she saved, or did he only cast the spirit out?” “What did her masters or owners do with her?” “What harm was she causing? Should Paul have just been more gracious?” Yet no matter the answers that we don’t find, the fact she was spared of this demon, released of its power, that happened by the name of Jesus. At this point in her life at the very least, she was given a glimpse of the freedom that he could offer her. It wasn’t Paul and Silas who freed her—it was Jesus, the gospel’s Savior.

The exorcism didn’t only affect her, though. It cost these men, who owned her, their business. Her freedom from the spirit may not have also meant her freedom from their enslavement, but they could no longer profit off the evil that was in her. Pastor Doug Bratt offers this perspective: “They sense Paul has snapped off their meal ticket’s psychic antenna. Since this creates a cash flow problem for the slave’s masters, they haul Paul and company off to court. Religion has gotten mixed up with economics in Philippi and, as is often the case, religion loses. After all, the slave girl’s owners accuse Paul and company of disturbing the peace, in other words, of disrupting their profitable business. The Philippians, apparently committed capitalists, fall right into line with the masters…So while God has used Paul and Silas to set a pitiful young woman free, in the process, the authorities have jailed the apostles.” Even though it doesn’t appear that they ended up believing, God had changed the slave masters’ lives. Even if they didn’t believe, this mob’s lifestyle and what they cherished most became clear.

The same goes for believers and non-believers today. We’ll focus on those who have professed faith for many years as well as recent converts to the faith. As we commit ourselves to God and the teachings of his word, practicing holiness, living out our sanctification, we will encounter things that we know aren’t pleasing to God. We will identify things, that because we are saved, we know he wants to change in us. Maybe it’s something that so obviously needs to change, but perhaps it’s something that has been in the dark corners, hidden from the public eye. Has God convicted you of a struggle with lust and unfaithfulness to your spouse? He calls you to fight against that, not to approve of it and fight for it. Has he convicted you of cheating in business, lying to people who have trusted you, or of selfishness or pride or racism or prejudice?

Maybe your gut instinct is to identify someone else who those things fit. But what things are you and I wanting to hold back from God? Are there things we’ve set in our minds as maybe God says it’s wrong—but can it really hurt? He’ll just give me grace anyways. What areas of your life do you know God calls for something different, he’s calling for change, and yet you are so enslaved that you’ve convinced yourself you don’t want to be free from. God is calling you to repentance; he invites you to be transformed not by your action or inaction but changed by him.

Our first point, it is the God in and behind the gospel that changes everything. Our next point flows right out of that, the gospel is worth clinging to and sharing even when everything feels like it’s going wrong. Consider what Paul and Silas had been through in just this city. Things had started out so well with Lydia, but now they were seized, dragged, accused of throwing the city into an uproar, attacked, stripped, beaten, severely flogged, thrown into prison, into the inner cell. It almost feels like they were in the solitary of solitary confinements, the deepest, darkest dungeon-type place. Yet by that evening, these physically injured brothers in Christ, probably emotionally-worn, mentally and spiritually-tested, they were praying and singing to God out loud. “And the other prisoners were listening to them.” We don’t know if that means they just couldn’t block them out and now they were the ones annoyed and frustrated by these two men. But as I’ve heard prison pastors talk about, “They have the most captive audience. You can’t get away.”

Colin Watson, the Interim Executive Director of the CRC, reflected on Psalm 11 verses 3 and 4 in a denominational report this week. The psalmist writes there, “‘When the foundations are being destroyed, what can the righteous do?’ The Lord is in his holy temple; the Lord is on his heavenly throne.” Watson says, “In the midst of our circumstances, we are called to praise God. The response to the psalmist’s question is not only that we lament, though it is good that we do; the response must also include the recognition of who God is and ultimately praise his name. This is the essence of worship.”

Think about all that’s gone on in our nation and around the world over the past 4 months. All the sickness, violence, division, destruction—it’s always there, but whether you feel like blaming the media or things are just ramped up at a higher level, it’s easy to feel burdened. It’s easy to be distressed, to be tired, to claim victory and praise certain politicians or celebrities who take a stand that you agree with, or maybe you cheer on those who are tearing certain statues down, or celebrate when policies viewed as discriminatory are changed. It’s easy to fall into a cycle, a pattern of praising actions, works, and people. Sometimes when we do that, our focus is also being turned off of God and praising him.

Yet, as we see in Paul and Silas in the middle of the night, weak and wounded in prison, the gospel was still the most essential thing to them. The gospel was their treasure. Jesus was their strength. Knowing him and making him known was still their life’s purpose. As Christians, we don’t have to reject any societal changes—we are called to care for the poor and the needy and oppressed—but our actions ought not be deprived of the gospel. Why we do what we do isn’t just because it feels like the right thing or good thing to do, because it seems to promote equality or equity. We are to do what we do because God has called us to it. When we encounter hatred and oppression in our world, we cannot forget that those are created by the devil’s lies and schemes. It’s not some human-created sense of justice that overcomes those; rather, it’s the light of Christ, the one who redeems and who does change us. We must continue to praise him in the midst of pain. We must still share him in the midst of grief. We sing not only when we’re in a good mood, but we need to proclaim the same truths when we’re hurting as well.

Let’s look at the jailer who converts to the faith in our final point. There is no greater hope than that which is found in the gospel. The jailer was about to take his life. Maybe he saw that as dealing with the inevitable on his terms. When an angel freed Peter from prison in chapter 12, we read in verse 19 there, “Herod ordered that [the guards] be executed.” If you think about it, allowing him to kill himself, as morbid as that is, would have benefited Paul and Silas, they can get out of jail and get away. He’s the enemy; he’s on the side of those persecuting them. Yet they speak a word that stops him—they spare his life now, and they spare his life for eternity by providing the gospel.

Such an important thing for people to understand at any point, but especially in our time, is that the kind of faith that Scripture invites us to is not just factual identification. Faith is not you or I saying, “I believe Jesus is real. I believe he lived back 2,000 years ago. I believe he died on a cross, and even came back to life, and went to heaven before dying again.” Faith is not us saying that the same way that we could say, “The first president of the United States was George Washington.” We believe both things to be true; but neither is deep Christian faith. 

Real faith is trust. Faith is believing in. It’s believing that yes, Jesus was here and the cross and the resurrection are all real, but what’s behind that? Faith is what a person must have in order to say, “I believe Jesus had to die, a sinless man had to die, to pay for, to take the punishment upon himself for sinners.” Faith is saying, “I believe that I can do absolutely nothing to have any shot at heaven or being restored with God after death, but Jesus gives all who trust in him a free gift of mercy and grace for eternal life. This Jesus wasn’t just a guy, but he is God, and God loves me.”

Genuine faith is not just for our heads and hearts, but it changes our actions. Notice what the jailer did—at that hour—again, it was after midnight. He took these guys home. He cleaned their wounds. His whole family got baptized. He fed them. Why would he do all that? Verse 34 gives us the answer, “He was filled with joy because he had come to believe in God.” 

He was satisfied. Believing in Jesus filled him in such a way that he was willing to give more rather than needing or wanting more. Faith changes a person. It is through faith that we can praise God amid terrible trials and turmoil. Knowing our salvation allows us to let go of whatever feels so necessary for fulfillment. The jailer made sure his whole family knew what he did, what he received, what he believed that night.

Brothers and sisters, the gospel isn’t too be kept secret and tied down. Evangelism isn’t meant to cause irrational fears, regardless of whether we identify as extroverts or introverts. Let us be reminded that it is God who works in and with and through for his pleasure. When you extend the good news of Jesus to someone, remember that they have a choice, as Frederick Buechner wrote, “There’s only one catch. Like any other gift, the gift of grace can be yours only if you’ll reach out and take it. Maybe being able to reach out and take it is a gift too.” Amen.