7 Easter.C.25
Acts 16:16-34; John 17:20-26
Melanie L. McCarley

The reading from the sixteenth chapter of Acts speaks to us of what it means to be held captive. A cursory glance at the lesson suggests that this is a story about how Paul and his companion Silas found themselves imprisoned by the Romans for disturbing the peace. However, a longer look at the text urges us to seek a deeper meaning as to what it means to be held prisoner. By the end of the thirty-fourth verse, we are led to consider just who it is who is being held captive…and by whom.

The situation in Acts begins with the cries of a disturbed slave girl, possessed by a demon. In no small way, she is held captive in her mind. But she is also a slave, and a lucrative one at that. Her powers of divination bring her owners a great deal of money through fortune telling. But even demons can speak the truth, and catching sight of Paul and Silas, the demon cannot help but proclaim: “These men are slaves of the Most High God, who proclaim to you a way of salvation.” Over and over again, the slave girl proclaims this prophecy. In truth, it’s a good prophecy, as far as prophecies go—and the fact is, initially, one has to think that Paul and Silas would have considered the words of the slave girl to be a fine form of advertising. However, for any of us who have ever spent time around a parrot, or a person demanding something they want with enthusiastic zeal, we know that repetitive phrases, uttered unceasingly, can amount to a particularly painful brand of psychological torture. This is the situation facing Paul.

Now, Paul had something of volatile temperament—and he reaches the end of his tether and, speaking to the demon proclaims: “I order you in the name of Jesus Christ to come out of her.” And the demon comes out. Suddenly, the slave girl is free. Her mind and her voice are her own. She has been restored to herself. We might wish to applaud this good turn of events; but remember, this young woman is a slave, and her restoration of body and spirit has just cost her owners a healthy profit.

The result is that Paul and Silas are accused of civil disobedience—of advocating customs unlawful for Romans to adopt or observe. Paul and Silas are soon stripped of their clothing, beaten with rods and thrown into prison where they are placed in the innermost cell with their feet fastened in stocks. Imprisoned.

It seems so unfair. And perhaps it is. Most of us, if placed in a similar situation, might consider that we had been abandoned by God. Imprisoned for healing a person beset by a demon. Here they are, Paul and Silas, evangelists for the Gospel, in an innermost cell with their feet in chains. Few of us would disagree that it’s rather difficult to win souls for Christ when you’re stuck in jail. In fact, human nature would suggest the best course of action would be to curse God and indulge in a healthy dose of self-pity—at least for the short term. Yet, surprisingly enough, Paul and Silas choose a different course of action. Oh, they might be held captive in a Roman prison, but there is no indication that they are either feeling sorry for themselves or are disappointed in God. They’re not pondering why God failed to save them from their predicament. Not at all. They’re praying and singing hymns to God. What’s more, the prisoners are listening to them.

And now, there is an earthquake—so violent that the foundations of the prison are shaken, the doors are opened and everyone’s chains are unfastened. Now, ask yourself, if you were in such a place, and the walls had just come crashing down, wouldn’t your first impulse be to consider this a sign from God for you to run—to escape, make a clean break and head for safer territory?

Yet, consider the jailer. He wakes up and seeing that the gates to the prison are open draws his sword and is about to kill himself. This man holds no illusions about human nature. He presumes the prisoners have fled. He knows he is disgraced, and that quite soon (act of God or not) he will be the one to bear the full and ultimate responsibility for the empty prison. The earthquake, at least for him, wasn’t a sign of liberation—it was a sure and certain sign of impending doom. But here he is mistaken, for Paul shouts in a loud voice: “Do not harm yourself, for we are all here.” The earthquake was indeed a sign from God, but it was not a sign that Paul, Silas and the other prisoners should escape. Instead, the earthquake was a sign for the Jailkeeper and his household—that they should turn to the Lord and be saved.

In truth, people are held captive all around us. In this story alone, there is the slave girl held captive by a demon (and her owners); Paul and Silas held prisoner in a jail, the prisoners surrounding them and the Jailkeeper himself, held captive by the same social forces and customs which caused Paul and Silas to be thrown into jail. By the end of this reading, all of them are set free. Indeed, by the end of this lesson, a good case has been made by the Gospel that tells us that oftentimes the prisons we live in are not those built by bricks, but those constructed by the heart and mind.

Today, at our 10:00 a.m. service, we have the joy of baptizing Charlotte Robinson. Now, Charlotte is a bit too young to comprehend the dilemma of Paul, Silas and their companions; but perhaps, later in her life, she will know the predicament of being forced to do things she would rather not do or find herself in places she would choose not to be. Life, as it happens, is sure to throw Chalotte some curves. Our prayer, as we gather to welcome her into the household of God, isn’t that Charlotte should be free from the hardships that characterize human life, but that she should be given the grace to rise above them; bearing the love of Christ to people and places which have yet to experience the wondrous love God carries for them in God’s heart. We followers of Jesus aren’t about the business of praying for an easy life, but a productive life—one well spent in the service of Christ. A life, in which dilemmas may be seen as opportunities; moments when the inbreaking of the Holy Spirit might offer Charlotte, and those around her, the chance to serve Christ rather than blame God, opportunities for calling people to a freedom of spirit, found only in service to God. And we pray this, not only for Chalotte, but for all of us who bear upon our hearts and minds the baptism of Christ.

Today’s lessons urge us to ask ourselves the question: Is there something holding you captive? What is it from which you need to be released? Today’s lessons urge us to make a choice to follow Christ—and to experience a freedom which releases us from the bonds of the spirit—so that wherever we might find ourselves in this world—be it a prison of stone or that of the body; we might know ourselves to be free—liberated from despair and able in all circumstances to praise and serve our God. In Jesus’ name. Amen.