One of the most amazing things about reading the Bible is the more you read it, the more you discover. No matter how many times you read or preach a passage, you can always find more gold if you keep digging.
Psalm 119:127 Therefore I love Your commandments More than gold, yes, than fine gold!
There is no telling how many times I have read and reread the Scripture I want us to look at today. I’ve preached sermons and taught lessons on it before, but as I reread this story recently, I discovered more gold. I want to share it with you this morning in a true story I have entitled The Night the Jailer Found His Freedom.
The story begins in Acts 16:16, where a doctor named Luke, records how he, the apostle Paul and are missionary coworker named Silas are headed to a prayer meeting in a city called Philippi. On their way they’re met by a young slave girl who is possessed by demon. Imagine the devil coming to meet somebody on their way to prayer meeting!
Being an apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ, Paul casts the demon out of her, and everybody rejoices to see this young lady finally free from the devil’s grip. Not really---you see, there are these low life men who’ve been using this poor slave girl to make their living. Come see the demon girl tell your fortune! Get in touch with the spirit world! For only a small fee, she can see your future! But all that’s over now. Paul has robbed them of their financial security.
So back in vs. 20 Scripture tells us these fine upstanding citizens bring Paul and Silas to court, charging them basically with being trouble makers, and disturbing the peace. In a Roman court, the Romans always win, so the magistrates order Paul and Silas to be stripped and beaten, and then given over to the custody of the character I want us to consider this morning—an unnamed jailer who doesn’t know that before the night is over, he will find his freedom.
PRAYER
(read vs.23-34)
This jailer enters the story as a seemingly minor character in vs. 23-24. He’s just the man with the keys, the man who takes custody of two bruised and beaten missionaries and puts them in jail for safekeeping until their trial. If this were a movie the jailer would be one of the bit parts. You’d never know who played the jailer unless you watched all of those tiny credits at the end of the film. But by the time you get to vs. 34, you almost get the feeling that he is a very important person in this drama.
We don’t even know his name, and yet there are some things about this character we can be sure of.
He is obviously a trusted, well respected man in his community. You don’t hand the keys of the jail to just anybody. He’s a man who knows how to handle responsibility. He knows how to take orders and to give orders. When the magistrates order him to keep them securely in vs. 23, he doesn’t just put them in jail—he puts them in the inner prison and fastened their feet in stocks (v. 24).
He’s probably a man who’s seen a lot others never see. Imagine the criminals he has escorted to prison. He’s seen the murderers, the revolutionaries, the thieves, the lunatics. Nothing much phases him. He doesn’t pay much attention to why they go to jail, only on doing his job and taking them to the dungeon and keeping them there until they are called for. He carries a sword to handle anybody who gets out of line. As he escorts Paul and Silas to their cells and places them in their stocks, he’s probably not impressed one way or the other.
This story also mentions the fact the jailer is a family man—a husband, a father, maybe with a rather large family. He doesn’t spend all of his time locking up prisoners. He has a home where his wife calls him sweetheart, and his kids call him daddy. He is not only the breadwinner, but the leader of his home. I think this story lets us know that he takes his duties as husband and father pretty seriously. He wants the best for his family, and works hard to see they get it.
If you think of this jailer as just an ordinaryman living an ordinary life, you’ve got the picture. He’s a lot like most of us today: ordinary men and women, boys and girls, doing the best we can to make the best of life. But there’s one more thing I want to point out to you about this jailer: he’s a prisoner. He is a prisoner in what I call the prison of maximum security illusion.
He thinks he has all he needs to enjoy maximum security in life. Good job, position of power and authority, nice family. It looks like he has it all, but in reality, everything hangs by a single, slim thread. One earthquake is all it takes to bring him to the end of his rope, and he’s ready to use that rope to hang himself. His security in life is not real—it is an illusion. The earthquake and his response will prove that.
Maybe you live in the prison of maximum security illusion. You live an ordinary life, trying to get as secure as you know how. You might look for security in knowledge, so you go to school to get as much education as you can. Maybe your security is in working hard and saving money, investing in stocks or land. The more you have, the more secure you feel. Maybe you find your security in your friendships or even your family. Maybe your security is in your own strength and health.
There’s nothing wrong with wanting to find security in life. But here’s the kicker: you will never find maximum security in life without God.
That’s what is missing from this jailer’s life; that is what’s missing in every life trapped in the prison of the illusion of maximum security. But most folks are like this Philippian jailer: they don’t realize they’re prisoners until something or Somebody shakes them and wakes them up.
The jailer’s wake-up call comes with a literal earthquake. Seems this jailer is working the night shift, maybe working on paperwork for the Roman department of corrections. Vs. 27 says he’s fallen asleep when a violent earthquake sends him tumbling out of his chair. History tells us Philippi was notorious for this kind of thing, but this one is so bad it shakes the prison down to its foundations. The first thing the jailer does is grab his sword and head down to check on the prisoners.
He has good reason to be worried. In Roman law, a jailer who allows his prisoners to escape is punished very severely. He not only lost his job, but he often lost his head. There were no excuses accepted, no appeal considered. If your prisoners escaped, you would suffer the punishment your escapees would have suffered.
So the jailer runs down to the dungeon and sees his worst nightmare come true—the doors of the jail have been shaken off the hinges. He makes the next logical connection: his prisoners have escaped!
His mind starts to race. He knows what will happen when the magistrates call for the prisoners in the morning; maybe he’s seen the disgrace and death this kind of failure brings. In one moment of time all of his security crumbles like the foundation of this broken prison. He decides there is only one thing to do. He can’t bear to face the shame and pain of execution, so he takes out the sword meant for prisoners and tries to summon the courage he needs to take his own life.
Freeze the frame here: notice how quickly the illusion of maximum security is shattered? One moment the jailer has it all together, the next he is ready to commit suicide. All it takes is a little shaking up and the jailer is cornered, with nowhere to go, no options left.
That happens to us, too, doesn’t it? One minute you can be sitting pretty and the next things start to get ugly. The job you depend on disappears, the money you were saving is lost. In a moment disease or an accident can rob you of your health, and you are confined to a hospital bed. Somebody you love, somebody you depend on disappoints you. Somebody you love and depend on dies. Suddenly your whole world is turned upside down, and nothing makes sense anymore. Your security crumbles like the walls of that Philippian jailhouse.
Suddenly one question consumes your thoughts: what am I going to do?
One thing I want to make clear: the Philippian jailer’s option is the worst possible choice you can make.
No matter how bad things get, no matter how afraid or discouraged you become, suicide is never the answer, because it doesn’t solve anything. You end your life here, but you can’t escape the consequences of your decisions.
So what do you do? First of all, you learn the lesson God is teaching through your shake-up: you need something more stable to build your life on. All his life the jailer thought he was standing on solid ground. Now he realizes he’s been standing in quicksand.
This is why God allows earthquakes in your life: not to destroy us, but to show us that as good as some of the things we find our security in, none of them are strong enough to stand when the earthquake comes.
The jailer has come to that point in his life. Have you? Have you realized that you need to be freed from your illusions of security?
The jailer did, and he is scared and confused and would have made a terrible mistake until Paul yells out wait! Don’t hurt yourself! We’re all still here! I wonder if some of the other prisoners were whispering Hey you! Keep quiet so we can get outta here!
When the jailer hears Paul and realizes his prisoners haven’t escaped, he instantly reaches another conclusion: this man knows something I don’t. He could have escaped, could have let me kill myself, but he didn’t. Why? What do you suppose runs through his mind? Maybe he remembers Paul and Silas singing songs instead of whining and complaining about their beat up bodies. In fact, they’ve been very different from any other prisoner he’s ever had the pleasure to lock up. They didn’t come into prison fighting and cursing and complaining. They seemed to enjoy a freedom in spite of the chains that held their bodies. Now this earthquake comes, but they don’t seem to be so shook up. What do they have that I don’t have?
So he calls for light, and looks into the smiling faces of Paul and Silas and he realizes that these men have the key to the security he’s desperate for. So this trembling jailer falls down before his two prisoners and begs them to share their secret: Sirs, please tell me--what must I do to be saved?
Have you been there? Have you had your world shaken up by an earthquake of loss, or sickness, or death? Something that shakes you up so bad that everything you thought you could rely on, everybody you thought you could depend on was just not enough? Like a drowning man, you start looking and hoping to get a life preserver thrown your way? What must I do to be saved?
In vs. 31 Paul and Silas offer this poor prisoner the key to his freedom: Believe on the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved, you and your household.
Paul and Silas don’t say well just try to do better, and you will be OK. They don’t say let me tell you about my religion.
No---they point this man to the only Solid Rock of security that can be found in this crumbling world—Jesus Christ. The security you’re looking for is not found in your job or your money or even your family---it’s found in a Person, Jesus Christ.
This jailer probably doesn’t even know who Jesus Christ is, but he wakes up his family in the middle of the night and brings them to sit and listen to Paul and Silas preach the Gospel. Notice they have to hear the Gospel to believe in Christ (how shall they hear without a preacher?) After the sermon, this jailer, along with all the members of his family, walk out of the prison of unbelief and into the freedom of faith in Jesus Christ. They don’t just say a nice little prayer and go about their business---they repent of their sins, trust Christ as their only Savior, and commit themselves to follow Christ as Lord. The jailer and his family’s life are truly changed. How do I know that?
First of all, this jailer does something really unusual: he brings convicts into his home and treats them like royalty. He washes their wounds, give them something to eat and a clean place to sleep. How do you suppose those magistrates are going to feel when they find out the jailer has invited the prisoners into his own home?
Secondly, the jailer and his family are baptized right then and there. They are so excited about finding their freedom they cannot wait to identify themselves with Christ. Since there are no baptisteries around, they find a pond or a nearby river and get baptized by Paul and Silas.
Thirdly, there is joy in this home—a joy that only Jesus can bring when you really come to Him and find your freedom and security in Him alone.
Vs. 35-40 tell us the rest of the story, about how Paul and Silas are released and they stop by for a visit with the church, and then ride off into the sunset. But the real story of liberation is what happens to this jailer---this man whose world get shaken up so he can walk through the open door of faith in Christ and finds his security and freedom. It will be a night he and his family will never forget.
Now I cannot help but wonder if maybe there is someone here this morning who needs to walk through the same door this jailer did. You may be living in that prison of the illusion of maximum security. You think you’ve got it made, that nothing can shake you or break you. You’ve got friends and family, you’ve got stuff and money, you’re got your health and strength to fall back on. But there will come a day when your world will be shaken, and you will realize none of that is enough. You need a firmer foundation to build your life on.
Maybe that shake-up is going on right now, and you’re reaching out for something solid to hold on to. I offer you the same advice Paul and Silas offered that Philippian jailer: believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and you will be saved.
In a world that’s crumbling around us---where everything we have slips through our fingers, and everybody we try to hold on to falls out of reach---reach out to Christ. He is the key to your freedom; He is the Solid Rock that will stand when everything around you sinks.
Edward Mote knew nothing about God or the Bible as he grew up the child of poor innkeepers in London, England. But at the age of 16 he was genuinely converted to Christ. Mote later settled in a suburb of London where he became known as a successful cabinet maker and a devoted church layman. After a time, a Baptist chapel was built in Horsham, Sussex, England, largely because of Edward’s efforts. The grateful church members offered him the deed to the property. He refused it, saying, “I only want the pulpit, and when I cease to preach Christ, then turn me out of that.” Here Mote ministered faithfully until forced to resign because of poor health one year before his death. He commented, “The truths I have been preaching, I am now living upon and they’ll do very well to die upon.”
During his busy life as a minister, Edward Mote wrote more than 150 hymn texts. In 1836 he published a collection titled Hymns of Praise and included in that book of songs was one you and I still sing today:
My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness
I dare not trust the sweetest frame, but wholly lean on Jesus’ Name
On Christ the Solid Rock I stand
All other ground is sinking sand
All other ground is sinking sand.
This morning I invite you to come and make Jesus Christ the Solid Rock for your soul. Won’t you come to Him this morning, believe on Him, and let your faith in Him open the door to your freedom today?
