“WHAT must I do to be saved?” was the earnest cry of the trembling prison-keeper of Philippi. “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou, shalt be saved, and thy house,” was the immediate reply of the two devoted servants of God, whom he had so recently thrust into the pestilential inner prison, and fastened their feet in the cruel stocks. Blessed be God, neither prisons nor stocks, neither men nor devils, can hinder His grace from flowing, nor His Spirit from working.
A mysterious voice had awakened the sleeping Apostle, as, one night, he pillowed his wearied head on the Asiatic shore, calling him over into Europe, to meet, by the Gospel, the appalling spiritual need that abounded. Assuredly gathering that the Lord had called him for this service, in a field new and untried, he, with his companions, set sail from Troas, and hastened to Philippi, a chief town of Macedonia. But no warm welcome awaited him. The spiritual walls of Philippi reared their haughty pride against this bold evangelist. Deputations and invitations failed to greet his arrival. His was a path of faith, and one that was sustained not by man but God. Undaunted, he marched to victory.
Yet notice, “he abode in the city certain days.” Idly? Nay! Seeking human countenance? Nay! It was the pause of faith. The servant is passive. He waits on the Master. See the honor heaped upon him. Outside the city, in the strange “place of prayer,”―substitute for the synagogue, — a few women had habitually assembled for the purpose of expressing their need to God. How insignificant! A handful of women praying in the outside place!
Yes, but God heard them. Little does it matter whence prayer proceeds, since the ear of the living God is on the watch.
Supplicants, plead on; “continue in prayer, and watch in the same with thanksgiving.”
Not Europe only, but Christendom, is indebted to that little knot of earnest seekers for God.
“Help,” as expressed by the vision, arrives. Paul speaks to this company. The Lord opens the heart of Lydia, who at once identifies herself with the messenger and his work; becoming, like Zacchaeus, the host of the truth, and, through her conversion, stirs up the wrath of Satan. Evangelistic work that has not this effect, is not worth much. When religion goes in silver slippers, she has plenty of followers, says Bunyan.
The result is, that Paul and Silas are imprisoned. Double walls and firm stocks are Satan’s plan to hinder their work. How futile! The God who had heard the prayers of Lydia from outside the city, now hears the prayers of Paul inside the prison. They prayed and sang praises, ―they gave thanks even there. What a moral victory!
Well, the keeper of the prison was asleep, but He that kept the prisoners “neither slumbered nor slept.”
“Happy they who trust in Jesus,
Sweet their portion is, and sure;
When the foe on others seizes,
God will keep His own secure.”
Infinitely more happy was Paul, in the stocks for Christ’s sake, than the jailor, on his bed of down, in the service of Satan. On him, the foe of a guilty conscience was just about to seize. His time of trembling was at hand. That in which the prisoners were to retire, as “more than conquerors,” drew nigh.
The prison was shaken, and the prisoners’ bonds were loosed. God had interposed.
Supposing the prisoners had fled, and knowing that their escape and his life went together, the guilty jailor was about to commit suicide.
“Do thyself no harm,” said the voice of pity and forgiveness, from the loathsome dungeon.
All this proved too much for this stouthearted sinner. The evident blending of judgment and mercy; the power of God in shaking the prison, and the grace of God, in the words of Paul, completed the conquest of his stubborn spirit.
He came in, trembling, and said, “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?”
How sudden a collapse! The Philippian jail and the Philippian jailor were broken down together; it was God’s power in each case.
The jail might have been reconstructed after the old form, on the same foundation; not so the jailor. It was no mere reformation that he craved; the foundation and the structure must be totally new. In a word, he must be a “new creation.”
What he sought, therefore, was salvation.
When a man finds out, as all must do sooner or later, that he is lost, then nothing short of salvation suffices. Reformation may do for a man who deems himself only bad; but when sin is duly felt, a Saviour is sought, and, through mercy, readily found. Hence the quick and blessed answer to the jailor’s cry, “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved, and thy house.”
And the result? He took them the same hour of the night, and washed their stripes. Like Lydia, he at once identified himself with God’s messenger, and would have undone, had he been able, the cruel sufferings he had inflicted. Then he and his were baptized; and he “set meat before them, and rejoiced, believing in God with all his house.”
Thus he believed and rejoiced, and fed and ministered to the very men whom, just before, he considered only fit for imprisonment.
How real a thing is conversion to God! My reader, are you converted? This is a plain but all-important question; as necessary in that of the gentle Lydia, as in that of the violent jailor; absolutely necessary in all.
But how many a soul, brought to the discovery of its guilt, has, like the jailor, found peace through the answer to his question! Salvation connects itself with faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. The moment you truly believe in Him, then you are saved.
Thank God for such a way. J. W. S.