The
Gospel Is Not “Nice”
Years ago, when my dad was sorting through some boxes of old family documents, he came across a newspaper clipping from Memphis, Tennessee, where his grandfather (my great-grandfather) had once served as a pastor. The article reported on a recent demonstration of the Ku Klux Klan. They had staked a cross into the front yard of my great-grandfather and then set it on fire. Apparently his preaching had upset some of the folks in his church, and they’d decided to let him know.
This event reminds me of what Oscar Romero says about the gospel. Oscar Romero, who was the archbishop of El Salvador in the late 70s, spoke frequently in support of the nation’s poor, advocating for their basic rights in the face of a repressive military regime. Romero said: “A church that doesn't provoke any crisis, a gospel that doesn't unsettle, a word of God that doesn't get under anyone's skin, a word of God that doesn't touch the real sin of the society in which it is being proclaimed—what gospel is that? … The gospel is courageous; it’s the good news of him who came to take away the world’s sins.” Less than two years after he preached these words, Romero was assassinated at the Lord’s table (in the middle of communion) by Salvadoran commandos who had been trained at the United States School of Americas.
All this to say, the gospel is not nice. It refuses to play by the rules of this world—not only the obviously wicked rule of things like racism or militarism or xenophobia, but also the rule of cultural values like meritocracy and materialism. The gospel does not abide by the rules of this world that enslave and detract from life. Rather, the gospel upsets the present order of the world. God’s good news for the poor and the homeless and the imprisoned—the folks to whom Jesus first announces good news (Luke 4:18-19)—may well be heard as bad news by some people. By the folks who have plenty and still want more. By the folks who call all the shots and don’t want anyone else at the table.
Free
Publicity
16 One day, as we were going to the place of prayer, we met a slave girl who had a spirit of divination and brought her owners a great deal of money by fortune-telling. 17 While she followed Paul and us, she would cry out, “These men are slaves of the Most High God, who proclaim to you a way of salvation.” 18 She kept doing this for many days. But Paul, very much annoyed, turned and said to the spirit, “I order you in the name of Jesus Christ to come out of her.” And it came out that very hour.
Today’s scripture opens with Luke (the author of Acts—hence the use of “we”), Paul, and Silas, on a missionary visit in the Roman colony of Philippi. On the face of things, they are recipients of some free publicity. A fortune-telling slave-girl—presumably a popular figure, as we learn here that she turns a good profit for her owners—follows the missionaries around and announces them to be servants of God who are proclaiming a “way of salvation.” Everything she says is true. In our modern age, this might be comparable to having a commercial on prime-time television, or several young influencers name-dropping you on their social media networks. What’s not to like about this unpaid promotion? Why does Paul put an end to what seems like a profitable arrangement?
To put it simply, Paul sees an evil spirit behind this profitable arrangement. No amount of gospel or god-talk—no amount of truth—can conceal for Paul what’s really going on here, namely the enslavement of an individual. This nameless girl is treated as a commodity, not a person. Her owners use her gift of insight to their own benefit, not hers. If I might do a bit of cultural translation here: when Paul demands that the spirit leave the girl, what he is really denouncing is a spirit of slavery. And lest we think here of slavery as a simple moral issue, as a human shortcoming that we’ve since transcended and consigned to the past, it may help to see it (as the book of Acts sees it) as an issue that is inextricable from economic and social forces. Slavery here is a spirit of greed that puts profits above people, a spirit by which profit is sought at the expense of other people (even under the guise of pious god-talk, even under the guise of the gospel).
Today there’s a lot of talk about the idea that our nation is Christian. Not only does this idea neglect the reality that our founding fathers were fastidious to preserve a separation of church and state, lest the very situation that plagued them in England come to plague them here again; but this idea also ignores the very un-Christ-like economy through which our nation first prospered, namely slavery. There is very little that is Christian about this profitable arrangement in our fledging nation grew. And if such an idea stings, it’s worth asking whence the sting. Could it be the gospel that’s getting under our skin?
Unpatriotic
19 But when her owners saw that their hope of making money was gone, they seized Paul and Silas and dragged them into the marketplace before the authorities. 20 When they had brought them before the magistrates, they said, “These men are disturbing our city; they are Jews 21 and are advocating customs that are not lawful for us as Romans to adopt or observe.” 22 The crowd joined in attacking them, and the magistrates had them stripped of their clothing and ordered them to be beaten with rods. 23 After they had given them a severe flogging, they threw them into prison and ordered the jailer to keep them securely. 24 Following these instructions, he put them in the innermost cell and fastened their feet in the stocks.
The city of Philippi learns quickly that the gospel is not nice, that it upsets the proverbial apple cart. And its response is quick and brutal. Because Paul and Silas will not play by the rules of their economy and their society, because Paul and Silas challenge the spirit of slavery that wins profit for some at the expense of others, they are beaten severely and thrown into prison. I want to draw attention to the particular accusation that is made against them, namely that they are “advocating customs that are not lawful for us as Romans to adopt or observe” (Acts 16:21). In plain language, this is the accusation that Paul and Silas are unpatriotic. It remains one of the quickest, surest accusations leveled against anyone who does not play by the demonic rules of a given society. To be sure, pastors and other people who spoke out against slavery in the Confederacy were labeled traitors or turncoats. They were no patriots.
Free
Before Their Chains Are Broken
25 About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them. 26 Suddenly there was an earthquake, so violent that the foundations of the prison were shaken; and immediately all the doors were opened and everyone’s chains were unfastened. 27 When the jailer woke up and saw the prison doors wide open, he drew his sword and was about to kill himself, since he supposed that the prisoners had escaped. 28 But Paul shouted in a loud voice, “Do not harm yourself, for we are all here.”
It’s worth remembering that, not long before today’s episode in the book of Acts, it was Paul (then Saul) who was beating and imprisoning others. Now he’s beaten and thrown inside a prison. From a worldly vantage point, Paul’s transformation seems to have been for the worse. It does not pay to follow Christ.
What happens in prison, however, suggests an alternative vantage point for understanding Paul’s new life. The standout moment in today’s scripture is an earthquake that unfastens every prisoner’s chains and opens every locked door. Miraculous, right? “God is good,” a chorus of Christians might proclaim in response to this unexpected turn of events. Paul and Silas were unjustly imprisoned, but God broke them free. Hallelujah, amen.
But look more closely at what happens. Even with their chains undone and the doors unlocked, Paul and Silas do not escape. This is not a jailbreak. They remain for the sake of the jailer. While the businesspeople of Philippi gladly exchange people for profits, Paul and Silas exchange a profitable turn of events for the life of a single person (a person who put them in chains, no less).
So, I wonder if the real miracle happens before the earthquake. I wonder if the real miracle is that, even with their limbs chained and their bodies imprisoned, Paul and Silas are actually already free. Notice what they’re doing before the earthquake. “Praying and singing hymns to God” (Acts 16:25). We read in Paul’s own letters how, even when he’s imprisoned, he gives thanks to God for the opportunities to bring light into the darkness, good news to places of despair (e.g., Phil 1). It would seem he’s doing the same thing in today’s scripture, where the author of Acts tells us that the other prisoners were listening to Paul and Silas as they prayed and sang. Contrary to the mythology of our nation, real freedom is not being able to do whatever one wants to do. It is not the fantasy of endless choice. I think we have enough evidence by now, judging by reports that our citizenry is among the most anxious and depressed in the world, to see that in fact we often become enslaved by our desires, by being able to do whatever we want. Real freedom is not being enslaved by our desires. Real freedom is being able to live well and intentionally whatever the circumstance. Which is what we see in Paul and Silas as they pray and sing in prison. It is almost as though the earthquake becomes but a piece of divine confirmation, showing to everyone else what is already true for Paul and Silas. They are free…even in prison. They are free…not just for their own sake, but for the sake of the people around them still captive to a spirit of slavery.
Transformed
29 The jailer called for lights, and rushing in, he fell down trembling before Paul and Silas. 30 Then he brought them outside and said, “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?” 31 They answered, “Believe on the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved, you and your household.” 32 They spoke the word of the Lord to him and to all who were in his house. 33 At the same hour of the night he took them and washed their wounds; then he and his entire family were baptized without delay. 34 He brought them up into the house and set food before them; and he and his entire household rejoiced that he had become a believer in God.
Just as the risen Christ transforms Paul from a persecutor into a peacemaker, so the risen Christ transforms a jailer who brought harm to others into a host that heals the wounds of others. This is the last we see of the jailer, so we can only wonder how his life unfolds from here. But I imagine that just as Paul and Silas would not play by the rules of a society that put profits over people, a society that understood justice to be imprisonment rather than liberation, so too the jailer once he commits his life to Christ.
In the earliest communities of Christ-followers, new converts were often called to leave behind professions that seemed contradictory to the way of Christ. This included everything from prostitutes to government officials (those who “wore the purple”) to soldiers to merchants selling idols and sacrificial animals. For the early church, following Christ could not be isolated to a private piety, a matter solely of the heart. For the early church, following Christ meant living in God’s kingdom, which meant not playing by the rules of a society that opposed God’s kingdom.
This is admittedly a touchy topic. Generally speaking, our society views today Christianity (and other religions) as a sort of cultural add-on. That is, religion does not change your life so much as it enhances it—just like getting a coffee from Starbucks might enhance your day. But what we read in Acts suggests that following Christ will often entail a sharp divergence from commonly accepted values and practices in whatever society in which one lives. I won’t speculate any further on what those values or practices are, but I would invite you to ponder a bit further for yourself. What are the rules by which our culture plays that do not accord with the kingdom of God? What common ideas or practices invite us to see others as anything less than children of God? Where in our businesses, our governments, our technologies, our entertainment industry—where might we see an evil spirit, a spirit that privileges profits over people, a spirit that accuses rather than affirms, a spirit that prefers punishment or retributionn to restoration?
As Archbishop Romero said, the gospel is the proclamation “of him who came to take away the world’s sins.” We might do well to ponder: where does the gospel touch the sins of our society today? Where might we, like Paul and Silas, be called to refuse to play by the rules?
Prayer
Whose truth sets us free—
Encourage us,
As you encouraged Paul and Silas,
To object to the rule of sin and death
And to proclaim instead
The unruly rule of your love,
In which we all are your children.
Amen.
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