It has been already remarked that the devil made a great mistake when he cast Paul into prison at Philippi. To nature’s view it might have seemed otherwise; but, in the judgment of faith, the servant of Christ was much more in his right place, in prison for the truth’s sake, than outside at his Master’s expense. True, Paul might have saved himself. He might have been an honored man, owned and acknowledged as “a servant of the most high God,” if he had only accepted the false profession of the damsel, and suffered the devil to help him in his work. But he could not do this, and hence he had to suffer.” And the multitude [ever fickle and easily swayed] rose up together against them; and the magistrates rent off their clothes, and commanded to beat them. And when they had laid many stripes upon them, they, cast them into prison, charging the jailor to keep them safely. Who, having received such a charge, thrust them into the inner prison, and made their feet fast in the stocks.” {vi 27506-27508}Acts 16:22-24.
Here, then, some might have said, was an end to the work of the evangelist, in the city of Philippi. Here was an effectual stopper to the preaching. Not so; the prison was the very place, at that moment, for the evangelist. His work was there. He was to find a congregation within the prison wails which he could not have found outside. But tins leads us in the third and last place, to the case of the hardened sinner.
It was very unlikely that the jailor would ever have found his way to the prayer meeting by the river side. He had little care for such things. He was neither an earnest seeker, nor a false professor. He was a hardened sinner, pursuing a very hardening occupation. Jailors, from the nature of their office, are, generally speaking, hard and stern men. No doubt, there are exceptions. There are some tender-hearted men to be found in such situations; but, as a rule, jailors are not tender. It would hardly suit them to be so. They have to do with the very worst class of society. Much of the crime of the whole country comes under their notice; and many of the criminals come under their charge. Accustomed to the rough and the coarse, they are apt to become rough and coarse themselves.
Now, judging from the inspired narrative before us, we may well question if the Philippian jailor was an exception to the general rule with respect to men of Ids class. Certainly he does not seem to have shown much tenderness to Paul and Silas. “He thrust them into the inner prison, and made their feet fast in the stocks.” He seems to have gone to the utmost extreme in making them uncomfortable.
But God had rich mercy in store for that poor, hardened, cruel jailor: and, as it was not at all likely that he would go to hear the gospel, the Lord sent the gospel to him; and, moreover, He made the devil the instrument of sending it. Little did the jailor know whom he was thrusting into the inner prison—little did he anticipate what was to happen ere another sun should rise. And we may add, little did the devil think of what he was doing when he sent the preachers of the gospel into jail, there to be the means of the jailor’s conversion. But the Lord Jesus Christ knew what He was about to do, in the case of a poor hardened sinner. He can make the wrath of man to praise Him, and restrain the remainder.
“He everywhere hath sway,
And all things serve His might,
His every act pure blessing is,
His path unsullied light.
When He makes bare His arm,
Who shall His work withstand
When He His people’s cause defends,
Who then shall stay His hand? “
It was His purpose to save the jailor; and so far from Satan’s being able to frustrate that purpose, he was actually made the instrument of accomplishing it. “God’s purpose shall stand; and he will do all his pleasure.” And where He sets His love upon a poor, wretched, guilty sinner, He will have Him in heaven, spite of all the malice and rage of hell.
As to Paul and Silas, it is very evident that they were in their right place in the prison. They were there for the truth’s sake, and the Lord was with them. Hence they were perfectly happy. What, though they were confined within the gloomy walls of a prison, with their feet made fast in the stocks, prison walls could not confine their spirits. Nothing can hinder the joy of one who has the Lord with him. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were happy in the fiery furnace. Daniel was happy in the lions’ den; and Paul, and Silas were happy in the dungeon of Philippi. “And at midnight Paul and Silas prayed, and sang praises to God: and the prisoners heard them.”
What sounds to issue from the inner prison! We may safely say that no such sounds had ever issued thence before. Curses and execrations and blasphemous words might have been heard; sighs, cries, and groans had often come forth from those walls. But to hear the accents of prayer and praise, ascending at the midnight hour, must have seemed strange indeed. Faith can sing as sweetly in a dungeon as at a prayer meeting. It matters not where we are, provided always that we have God with us. His presence lights up the darkest cell, and turns a dungeon into the very gate of heaven. He can make His servants happy anywhere, and give them victory over the most adverse circumstances, and cause them to shout for joy in scenes where nature would be overwhelmed with sorrow.
But the Lord had His eye upon the jailor. He had written his name in the Lamb’s book of life, before the foundation of the world, and He was now about to lead him into the full joy of His salvation. “And suddenly there was a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the prison were shaken: and immediately all the doors were opened, and every one’s bands were loosed.” Verse 26.
Now, if Paul had not been in full communion with the mind and heart of Christ, he would assuredly have turned to Silas and said, “Now is the moment for us to make our escape. God has most manifestly appeared for us, and set before us an open door. If ever there was an opening of divine providence surely this is one.” But no; Paul knew better. He was in the full current of His blessed Master’s thoughts, and in full sympathy with his Master’s heart. Hence, he made no attempt to escape. The claims of truth had brought him into prison; the activities of grace kept him there. Providence opened the door; but faith refused to walk out. People talk of being guided by providence; but if Paul had been so guided, the jailor would never have been a jewel in his crown.
“And the keeper of the prison awaking out of his sleep, and seeing the prison doors open, he drew out Ins sword, and would have killed himself, supposing that the prisoners had been fled.” (Ver. 27.) This proves, very plainly, that the earthquake, with all its attendant circumstances, had not touched the hard heart of the jailor. He naturally supposed, when he saw the doors open, that the prisoners were all gone. He could not imagine a number of prisoners sitting quietly in jail when the doors lay open and their chains were loosed. And then what was to become of him, if the prisoners were gone? How could he face the authorities? Impossible. Anything but that. Death, ever by his own hand, was preferable to that.
Thus the devil had conducted this hardened sinner to the very brink of the prepuce, and he was about to give him the final and fatal push over the edge, and down to the eternal flames of hell; when 10, a voice of love fell upon his ear. It was the voice of Jesus through the lips of His servant—a voice of tender and deep compassion—“Do thyself no harm.”
This was irresistible. A hardened sinner could meet an earthquake; he could meet death itself; but he could not withstand the mighty, melting power of love. The hardest heart must yield to the moral influence of love. “ Then he called for a light, and sprang in, and came trembling, and fell down before Paul and Silas, and said, Sirs, what must I do to be saved?” Love can break the hardest heart. And surely there was love hi those words, “ Do thyself no harm,” coming from the lips of one to whom he had done so much harm, a few hours before.
And be it noted, there was not a single syllable of reproach, or even of reflection, uttered by Paul to the jailor. This was Christ-like. It was the way of divine grace. If we look through the gospels, we never find the Lord casting reproach upon the sinner. He has tears of sorrow; He has touching words of grace and tenderness; but no reproaches—no reflections—no reproof to the poor distressed sinner. We cannot attempt to furnish the many illustrations and proofs of this assertion; but the reader has only to turn to the gospel story to see its truth. Look at the prodigal—look at the thief. Not one reproving word to either.
Thus it is in every case; and thus it was with the Spirit in Paul. Not a word about the harsh treatment—the thrusting into the inner prison—not a word about the stocks. “Do thyself no harm.” And then, “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved, and thy house.”
Such is the rich and precious grace of God. It shines, in this scene, with uncommon luster. It delights in taking up hardened sinners, melting and subduing their hard hearts, and leading them into the sunlight of a full salvation; and all this in a style peculiar to itself. Yes, God has His style of doing things, blessed be His name; and when He saves a wretched sinner, He does it after such a fashion as fully proves that His whole heart is in the work. It is His joy to save a sinner—even the very chief; and He does it in a way worthy of Himself.
And now, let us look at the fruit of all this. The jailor’s conversion was most unmistakable. Saved from the very brink of hell, he was brought into the very atmosphere of heaven. Preserved from self-destruction, he was brought into the circle of God’s salvation; and the evidences of this were as clear as could be desired. “And they spake unto him the word of the Lord, and to all that were in his house.” This clearly defines the extent of the term “ house” in this passage. They spake, of course, to those who could understand and believe what was said. “And he took them the same hour of the night, and washed their stripes; and was baptized, he and all his, straightway. And when he had brought them into his house, he set meat before them, and rejoiced, believing in God with all his house.
What a marvelous change! The ruthless jailor has become the generous host! “If any man be in Christ he is a new creature; old things are passed away: behold, all things are become new.” How clearly we can now see that Paul was right in not availing himself of the opening of providence! How much better and higher to wait for an opening of grace! What an eternal loss it would have proved to him had he walked out at the open door! How much better to be conducted out by the very hand that had thrust him in—a hand once the instrument of cruelty and sin, now the instrument of righteousness and love! What a magnificent triumph! What a scene altogether! How little had the devil anticipated such a result from the imprisonment of the Lord’s servants! He was thoroughly outwitted. The tables were completely turned upon him. He thought to hinder the gospel, and behold, he was made to help it on. He had hoped to get rid of two of Christ’s servants, and 10, he lost one of his own. Christ is stronger than Satan; and all who put their trust in Him and move in the current of His thoughts shall, most assuredly, share in the triumphs of His grace now, and shine in the brightness of His glory forever.
Thus much, then, as to “the work of an evangelist.” Such are the scenes through which he may have to pass—such the cases with which he may have to come in contact. We have seen the earnest seeker satisfied; the false professor silenced; the hardened sinner saved. May all who go forth with the gospel of the grace of God know how to deal with the various types of character that may cross their path May many be raised up to do the work of an evangelist!