Seventh Sunday of Easter
Text: Acts 16:16-34
Pastor Jean M. Hansen
It’s good to be back with you following a couple Sundays of vacation. I didn’t get as much reading done as I thought I would while I was gone – too many sites to see, I guess. But I did begin a memoir by early civil rights leader John Lewis titled, Across the Bridge; it was written in 2012, and updated in 2017 and 2021. John Lewis died in 2020 after serving as a congressman in Georgia’s 5th district for many years.
In his book, Mr. Lewis reflected on the role of faith, with was significant, in that non-violent movement. One of the stories he related brought to my mind today’s account from Acts 16. He wrote that one of the greatest tests of those first civil rights advocates’ faith was being imprisoned in the maximum security Parchman Farm in the Mississippi Delta. He wrote, “It challenged our faith, but it also unlocked our ability to engage in some of the most difficult, yet powerful work of the Civil Right Movement.” (1)
This facility was one of the most brutal prisons in the country. The Freedom Riders at that point had already faced mob violence, but at Parchman the National Guard could not assist; it was a place where prisoners had been lynched and murdered with no witnesses nor trace of their demise. Still, the strategy of those arrested was to not post bail, and instead to stay incarcerated the entire 40-day term, flooding the penal system with Americans calling for justice.
Now, listen to this description by John Lewis, “In the section where I was held, it was very hard to hear and impossible to see the other inmates, but it became clear that our strategy was working. Soon, the cells all around me were full of riders, and we began to sing songs of freedom to remind us of our purpose and keep our spirits high. We sang, “Keep your eyes on the prize, hold on!” and “This little light of mine, I’m going to let it shine.” We sang, “Woke up this morning with my mind stayed on freedom,” and many other songs that reminded us of our faith.
“The songs seemed to aggravate prison officials who ultimately took away our Bibles, our toothbrushes, and even our mattresses and bedding, leaving us to sleep on steel cots, all to snuff out the joy in our hearts. Parchman was a prison meant to break the hardest men, and the prison guards were frustrated that their worst punishment could not shake our faith.
“We remained incarcerated for a little over a month. We were never let out of our cells in any common area and were allowed to take a shower once a week. Ultimately, we were released. I guess the state decided punishing us further was counterproductive. When we were released from the worst prison in the country, we emerged stronger than ever before. Our faith had seen us through.” (2)
When I read those words, I wondered if as they sang, John Lewis and the others Freedom Riders were reminded of the account of the Apostle Paul and Silas in Acts 16.
Those early proclaimer of the Gospel , Paul and Silas, were unjustly imprisoned after healing a girl who was in bondage to two things – one was here psychic ability and the other was the people who enslaved her and who made money off her fortune-telling skill. When Paul became frustrated with her following him and Silas, crying out, “These men are slaves of the Most High God, who proclaim to you the way of salvation,” he “cast out” the psychic “spirit”. Suddenly, she no longer had fortune-telling, money-making skills, and this so angered her owners that they had Paul and Silas arrested. They were beaten and put in the innermost cell, locked into stocks, all of which was brutal and painful.
But instead of moaning and complaining, Paul and Silas sang hymns and prayed. All the other prisoners were listening to them; they must have found it hard to believe their ears. Can you imagine this scene? It’s almost as ludicrous as 20th century people being put in a maximum security prison for non-violent protests, who then sang to boost their faith. In both cases, they were being punished for threatening the status quo and the life-styles of people in power.
Then, the account from Acts tells us that God acts; there’s an earthquake which causes the prison doors to swing open and the chains to unlock. Amazingly, in the midst of this upheaval, none of the prisoners flee, as if they are being held there by invisible bonds. I like to imagine Paul and Silas still calmly sitting there, continuing to sing and praise God, waiting for the jailer to show up.
Could it be that all this happened not to set Paul and Silas free, but so that the Jailer and his family would become part of the family of faith, followers of Jesus? As one commentator noted, the jailer, having just roughed up two of God’s servants, could not have seemed a less likely candidate for the love of God. But…that’s how God works. So, a member of the Roman legal system became a follower of Jesus.
The jailer brought them outside, where Paul and Silas spoke the word of the Lord to all who were in the house. Then, the jailer ministered to his prisoners, who baptized him and his entire family right then and there.
The moral of this story is this – the power of Jesus and his Gospel sets people free and cannot be touched by the powers of this world.
That’s what John Lewis proclaims in his reflections on the brutal days of his youth, “We came out of Parchman stronger in our faith than ever before, more focused, with a greater sense of purpose.” Then, he leans into his message, “The power of faith is transformative. It can be utilized in your own personal life to change your individual condition, or it can be used as a lifeline of spiritual strength to change a nation. Each and every one of us is imbued with a divine spark of the Creator. That spark links us to the greatest source of power in the universe. If we stand on this knowledge, even if it is in direct conflict with the greatest forces of injustice around us, a host of divine help, both seen and unseen, will come to our aid. (3)
The power of Jesus and his Gospel sets people free and cannot be touched by the powers of this world. By the way, the story of Paul and Silas ends in a rather humorous way. They stayed at the jail even though word had been sent by the magistrates to release them. In fact, they refused to go. Why? They were waiting for an apology, refusing to be discharged in secret after being treated unjustly. The magistrates and the apology did arrive. I suppose there are 20th century parallels to that as well, although apologies to the early Civil Right’s activists for what they suffered have been slow in coming. It’s another reminder that God make a way from no way. AMEN
Across That Bridge: A Vision for Change and the Future of America by Congressman John Lewis, 2012, 2017. 2021, Hachette Books, pg. 55
Same as #1, pgs. 55-58
Same as #1, pg. 60