Conversion and Character
(No. 3372)
A SERMON PUBLISHED ON THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 18, 1913.
DELIVERED BY C. H. SPURGEON,
AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.
"Who, having received such a charge, thrust them into the inner prison,
and made their feet fast in the stocks. And at midnight Paul and Silas
prayed, and sang praises unto God: and the prisoners heard them. And
suddenly there was a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the
prison were shaken: and immediately all the doors were opened, and
everyone's chains were loosed. And the keeper of the prison, awaking
out of his sleep, and seeing the prison doors opened, he drew out his
sword, and would have killed himself, supposing that the prisoners had
fled. But Paul cried with a loud voice, saying, Do yourself no harm:
for we are all here. Then he called for a light, and sprang in, and
came trembling, and fell down before Paul and Silas. And brought them
out, and said, Sirs, what must I do to be saved? And they said, Believe
on the Lord Jesus Christ, and you shall be saved, and your house. And
they spoke unto him the word of the Lord, and to all that were in his
house. And he took them the same hour of the night, and washed their
stripes; and was baptized, he and all his, immediately. And when he had
brought them into his house, he set meat before them, and rejoiced,
believing in God with all his house." Acts 16:24-34.
THE work of God at Philippi went on very quietly and successfully in
the hands of Paul and Silas. It was the commencement of the Gospel in
Europe and very auspicious were its circumstances. The good work was
intimately connected with Prayer Meetings, which for this reason should
always wear a charm for Europeans.
Godly women met together for devotion. Paul spoke to them and
households were converted and baptized. The work went on delightfully,
but the devil, as usual, must put in his foot! To any who judged
according to the sight of the eyes, it must have seemed a most
unfortunate circumstance that a poor woman having a spirit of
divination came in Paul's way. It was a sad ruffling of the gentle
stream of prosperity when, on account of his casting the demon out of
her, the Apostle and his companion were dragged by the mob before the
magistrates, shamefully beaten and thrown into prison. Now the
preacher's mouth would be stopped, as far as the people of Philippi
outside the jail gates were concerned. No more of those delightful
Prayer Meetings and Bible readings and opening up of the Scriptures.
Surely there was cause for the deepest regret. It might have appeared
so, but like a great many other incidents connected with Christian
work, the matter could not be judged by the outward appearance, for the
Lord had a secret and blessed design which was being answered by the
apparent disaster! Servants of Jesus Christ, never be discouraged when
you are opposed, but when things run counter to your wishes, expect
that the Lord has provided some better thing for you! He is driving you
away from shallow waters and bringing you into deeper seas where your
nets shall bring you larger draughts. Paul and Silas must go to prison
because a chosen person was to be converted in the prison who could not
otherwise be reached!
No, it was not only one person who was to be saved, but Eternal Love
had fixed its eyes upon a whole house! The members of this elect family
could by no other means be brought to Christ but through Paul and Silas
being cast into prison! And, therefore, into prison they must go–to do
more by night in their chains than they could have done by day if they
had been free–and to bring to Christ some that would be more
illustrious trophies of the Grace of God than any they could have
gathered had they been preaching in the streets of Philippi! God knows
where it is best for His servants to be and how it is best for them to
be! If He foresees that they will do more good with their backs scarred
than they would have done if they had escaped the flagellation, then
their bodies must bear the marks of the Lord Jesus and they must
rejoice to have it so! Brothers and Sisters, we do not like the sick
bed–we would not choose aching limbs– especially those of us who are
of an active disposition and would be perpetually telling out the love
of Christ! And yet in our temporary imprisonment we have seen the
Lord's wisdom and have had to look back with thankfulness upon it. Oh,
children of God, your Father knows best! Leave everything in His hands
and be at peace, for all is well. May the Holy Spirit work quietness of
heart in you.
Our subject is the jailer of Philippi and, first, we shall say a little
as to what kind of man he was before conversion. Secondly, we shall
consider what was the occasion of his conversion. And then, thirdly, we
will notice what sort of convert he made when the Grace of God brought
him to Jesus' feet.
First, then–
I. WHAT SORT OF MAN WAS THIS JAILER BEFORE HIS CONVERSION? He is a
remarkable instance of the power of Divine Grace, but he ought not to
be spoken of as a notably great transgressor, for of this there is no
trace, whatever! He was, like ourselves, full of sin and iniquity, but
we find no record of anything especially bad about him. I see no reason
why Mr. Wesley should so severely stigmatize him as he does in his
lines–
"What but the power which wakes the dead Could reach a stubborn
jailer's heart, In cruelty and rapine bred, Who took the ancient
murderer's part? Could make a hardened ruffian feel, And shake him over
the mouth of Hell?" On the contrary, we shall be able to show that the
jailer's salvation is an instance of the Grace of God saving one of an
admirable moral character, one in whom there were most commendable
points–a man of such regularity and decision that he was not so much
saved from vice as from self-righteousness! I take it, from the little
we know of him, that he was a fine specimen of stern Roman
discipline–a man full of respect for those in authority and prompt in
obedience to orders. He was a jailer and he had to act, not on his own
responsibility, but on the command of others, and this he scrupulously
did. When we read, "having received such a charge, "we infer that he
carefully followed the tenor of his orders and attentively observed the
weight which the magistrates threw into them. He, therefore, thrust the
Apostle and his friend into the inner prison and made their feet fast
in the stocks. You can see that he was thorough-going in obedience to
authority, for afterwards, although he might have liked to retain the
Apostle and Silas in his house, yet, when the magistrates sent him
word, he spoke to his beloved guests as an official was bound to do,
waiving, in some respects, the friend, and tersely saying, "The
magistrates have sent to let you go. Now, therefore, depart and go in
peace." It strikes me that he was an old soldier–a legionary who had
fought and done rough work in his younger days and then settled down,
appointed on account of his good behavior to the important post of
governor of the jail of Philippi. With his family about him, he
occupied himself in attending to his duties as a jailer and carried
them out with the strictest regularity. For this he is to be
commended–for it is expected of men that they be found faithful.
I say, then, that I regard him as an instance of a man whose mind was
molded according to the Roman type, a person subservient to discipline
and strict in obedience to rule. I grant that there was a little
harshness about his fulfilling the orders concerning Paul and Silas,
for he seems to have "thrust" them into the dungeon with some violence.
But we cannot object to their being placed in the inner prison, or to
their feet being made fast in the stocks, because his orders were that
he should keep them safely–and he was only doing his best to secure
this. He was not responsible for the order of the magistrates and when
the prisoners were brought to him fresh from the lictor's rods with a
strict charge, what was he to do but to obey it to the letter? He did
so and does not deserve to be called a ruffian for it. His ruling idea
was that he was a servant of the government and bound to carry out his
instructions–and was he not right? Such men are very necessary in
government employ–I cannot tell how public business could be done
without them.
Notice that before he went to bed he saw that the prison doors were all
fastened and the lights put out. Even Roman jailers were open to bribes
and though lights had to be extinguished at a certain hour of the
night, it was still possible to burn your lamp if you placed a little
oil upon the jailer's palm. But there was no lamp in the jail of
Philippi, for when the keeper, himself, needed a light, he had to call
for it. All lamps were out at the proper time and all chains were on
every person–for the narrative says that, by the earthquake, "Every
man's chains were loosed," which they could not be if they were already
unbound. The inmates were all secured in their cells and the whole
building was in due order. This shows that the keeper of the prison
attended to his business thoroughly, nothing turning him aside from the
most correct observance of his instructions.
Well, all being shut up, he has gone to bed and is fast asleep, as he
should be, in the middle of the night, so as to be fit for his
morning's work But what happens?–
"Paul and Silas, in their prison,
Sang of Christ, the Lord arisen!
And an earthquake's arm of might
Broke their dungeon gates at night" See how every timber in the house
quivers and he awakes out of his sleep! What is his first thought? To
my mind, it is fine to observe that he has no terror for himself or
family, but at once rushes from his room to look to the prison below.
Seeing the prison doors open, he was alarmed. He does not seem to have
been in any alarm about his wife and his family, though the earthquake
must have shaken the rooms in which they were, but his one concern was
his prison and its contents. Under the seal and authority of the Roman
Emperor, he was bound to keep the prisoners safe–and when he wakes,
his first thought concerns his duty. I wish that all Christians were as
faithful in their offices as this man! When as yet he was
unenlightened, he was faithful to those who employed him. It is a grand
thing when a man, placed in an office of responsibility, has his work
so much upon his mind that if he starts up in the middle of the night
and finds the floor under him reeling with an earthquake, the main
thing he thinks about is the duty which he has engaged to fulfill. It
ought to be so with Christian servants, with Christian trustees,
managers and confidential clerks–and indeed with all Christian men and
women placed in offices of trust! Your chief concern should be to be
found faithful–it was so with the jailer.
Now notice, as he finds the prison doors open, this stern Roman fears
that he shall be disgraced, for he feels sure that the prisoners must
have fled. Naturally they would escape when the doors were open and as
he could not confront the charge of unfaithfulness in his office, he
drew his sword in haste and would have killed himself. For this
proposed suicide he is to be most severely censured, but still note the
stern Brutus-like fidelity of the man. He cannot endure the charge of
having allowed his prisoners to escape, but would rather kill himself.
Is it not singular that this Philippi was the place where Cassius
committed suicide? Where Brutus also slew himself? Here this man would
have added another name to these who laid violent hands upon
themselves–and all because he feared that he would lose his character?
He preferred death to dishonor. All these things show that he was a man
sternly upright and determined to perform his duty. I am always doubly
glad when such men are saved, because it does not often happen–such
persons too often wrap themselves up in the sense of having walked
uprightly towards their fellow men. And because after the lapse of many
years, they stand high in public esteem and everybody says the country
never had better servants, they are apt to forget their Master in
Heaven and their obligations to their Lord–apt to have a blind eye
towards their own shortcomings and to be little inclined to sit as
little children at the feet of Jesus, unless some wondrous deed of
Divine Grace is worked upon them! Hence we admire the Grace of God
which brought such a man trembling to the Apostle 's feet!
The jailer was a person of few words. He was not a great talker, but a
prompt actor. We only know three things that he said. First, he called
for a light. And next he cried, "Sirs, what must I do to be saved?" a
terse, laconic question– respectful, earnest, to the point, having not
a word too much or too little in it. His other speech to Paul was of
the same order when he said, "The magistrates have sent to let you go.
Now, therefore, depart and go in peace." You would not expect a jailer
to use very flowery language–he was accustomed to measure his
syllables when he spoke to his prisoners, never uttering a word beyond
the statute in that case made and provided. Thus he had acquired a
hard, businesslike style of speech. Men of such a type are often cold
as so many statues. We find it hard to warm their hearts and,
therefore, we bless the Grace of God which made this man's heart to
burn within him and snapped the bonds of cold routine, so that, after
his conversion, he feasted the ministers of Christ and rejoiced with
all his house!
It may be well to make one more remark. It is evident that he was a man
of action, of precision and decision. Once let him know what is to be
done, and he does it! He acts as a man under authority having wardens
under him. He says to this man, "Go," and he goes. And he acts
mechanically as his superiors command him. He was a man who, I suppose,
opened the prison doors always to a minute at the right time in the
morning for those who went out to exercise, measured out the meals of
the prisoners to the ounce and shut up the cells and put out the lights
exactly at the fixed hour at night. I see it in him. Precise obedience
is his main point. When he was bid to believe, he believed. He was also
immediately baptized. What he lacked in speech, he made up in deeds. He
obeyed the Lord Jesus immediately, then and there. I love to see a man
brought to Christ who has orderliness and decision about him. Some of
us are rough beings, needing a deal of combing to bring us into shape.
But certain others are shapely after their way from the first and all
that they need is spiritual life. When the Divine Life comes, their
habits are in beautiful consistency with the inward law of obedience
and holy order. Still, it is not often that persons of this class are
saved, for these very orderly people frequently think that they have no
sin and so the warnings addressed to sinners do not come home to them.
For instance, a man says, "Never since I took my position as manager of
my master's business have I wasted an hour of his time, or a shilling
of his substance." This is well, but the devil is ready with the
suggestion, "You are a good and faithful servant. What need have you to
humble yourself before Christ and seek His mercy and Grace?" It is a
most blessed thing when this tendency is overcome. I see the Divine
splendor of Grace as much in the conversion of the faultless moralist
as in the repentance of Manasseh, or of that woman who was a sinner, of
whom we spoke a little while ago. It is as hard to deliver a man from
self-righteousness as from unrighteousness, as difficult to deliver one
man from the frostbite of his own orderliness as to save another from
the heat of his unbridled passions. Converts like the jailer are very
precious and very sweetly display the love and power of God! Now,
secondly–
II. WHAT OCCASIONED THE JAILER'S CONVERSION?
The narrative is short and we cannot, therefore, get much out of it. I
think, however, that we are warranted in believing that this man had
received some measure of instruction before the earnest midnight cry
of, "What must I do to be saved?" Perhaps the often repeated testimony
of the Pythoness had been reported to him, for it must have been a
matter of general notoriety throughout the town of Philippi that this
woman, who was supposed to be inspired, had testified that Paul and
Silas were "servants of the Most High God." It is also very possible
that when he was fitting on the irons to these holy men and roughly
thrusting them into the inner prison, their quiet manner, like sheep at
the slaughter, and perhaps their godly words, also, may have carried
information to his mind. What he saw and heard did not savingly impress
him, for he showed the Apostles no sort of courtesy, but, as I have
already said, was somewhat harsh with them. "He thrust them into the
inner prison, and made their feet fast in the stocks," so that at that
time he had no belief in their mission and but small respect for their
character. He felt, it is clear, no compunction, for he went up to his
chamber and fell asleep–nothing of any importance was on his mind,
notwithstanding what the Apostles may have said to him. A young Divine
in a flowery sermon described the jailer as converted through hearing
Paul and Silas sing at midnight. A very beautiful picture he made of
it, but it had the drawback of being untrue, for the jailer did not
hear them sing. "The prisoners heard them," for they were all down in
the vaults under the jailer's house, but it is clear that the keeper of
the prison did not hear them, for he was asleep until the earthquake
startled him.
I have also heard it said that he was converted through fear of
death–a most ridiculous remark, for how could he be afraid to die who
was going to kill himself? No, he was too brave a man to be moved by
terror. He was afraid of nothing but of being suspected of neglect of
duty. He was a soldier without fear and without reproach, dreading
dishonor infinitely more than death! He was a stern disciplinarian and
thought little of his own life or the lives of others. He would have
ridden in the charge of Balaclava, with all the rest of them, bravely
enough–
"His not to reason why– His but to dare and die."
You can see that it was not fear that brought him to the feet of the
Apostle. I do not doubt that some are brought to Christ by fear of
death, but one is a little suspicious of such conversions–for he who
is frightened to the Savior by fear of death may possibly run away from
Him when he perceives that his fear has no immediate cause.
Others, too, have thought that he was made to tremble because he was
afraid of being brought before Caesar for permitting his prisoners to
escape. That fear may have hurried him into the desperate intent of
suicide, but it was not the cause of his conversion, for all distress
upon that point was gone before he cried out, "Sirs, what must I do to
be saved?" In fact, he came to Paul and Silas because that fear had
been banished by hearing the calm and brave voice of the Apostle as he
said, "Do yourself no harm: we are all here." It was not even a fear of
censure from the magistrates which compelled him to tremble, for that,
also, had been removed by finding the prisoners still in their cells.
And though the whole of these things together make up the circumstances
of his conversion, they cannot be put down as the cause of it, since
this last, especially, had ceased to operate upon him when he fell
trembling at the Apostle 's feet.
What was it, then, which led to the jailer's faith and Baptism? I
answer, partly the miracle that the doors were opened and the
prisoners' chains loosed by an earthquake. And coupled with that, the
fact that none of them had escaped. What gladness filled his bosom! He
would not be arraigned, after all, for being unfaithful to his trust.
How strange that the prisoners were all there. What a conflict was
there in his spirit! What anxiety and what sudden quelling of his
alarm! There was no need to commit suicide lest he should be blamed,
for there was nothing for which to blame him. What a deliverance for
him! An awful power was abroad and yet it had taken care of him. A
mingled feeling of mystery and gladness created astonishment and
gratitude in his bosom. He could not make it out, it was so
singular–he had been brought to the verge of a precipice–and yet was
safe. "Do yourself no harm: we are all here," rang out like music in
his ears! He felt a solemn awe of those two prisoners whose voices had
reassured him. Their voices had been to him as the very voice of God
sounding forth along those corridors out of the innermost cells. Their
bold, truthful, confident, calm tones had astonished him! He had seen
before something very singular about those two men, but now the very
tone in which they conveyed to him the glad intelligence which banished
his worst fear filled him with deep reverence towards them–and he
feels that no doubt these men are the servants of the Most High God
and, therefore, he calls for a light, breaks in upon their darkness and
brings them out.
While this was transpiring, he was brought very near to the world to
come by the fact of the sword having been so near his breast, by the
earthquake that had started all the stones of the dungeon, by the
singular power of God miraculously holding every freeman as fast as if
he had been bound and by the presence of men whom he perceived to be
linked with Deity. This nearness to things unseen caused him to look
over his past life. He was calm, despite the confusion of the night,
for he was not a man to be frightened. But conscience, which in him was
quick and prompt, from the very habit of obedience, reviewed his past
life, judged it and condemned it–and he felt that he was a lost man
because of his multiplied shortcomings before the Living God, whose
servants were there present. For this reason he cried out, "Sirs, what
must I do to be saved?" It was none other than the blessed and eternal
Spirit, unfolding before him his life which he had thought to be so
correct, making him to see the evil of it and striking him down with a
sense of guilt and a dread of consequent punishment! So far we trace
his convictions to an awakened conscience visited by the Spirit of God.
His full conversion grew out of the further instructions of the
Apostles. That answer was very like his short question in fullness of
meaning–"Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and you shall be saved, and
your house." This was condensed Gospel for him. And then followed a
blessed commentary upon it, when the Apostle spoke the Word of the Lord
both to him and to all his house. All this lit up his mind, which was
already willing to receive the Truth of God, a mind which, from the
very habit of obedience, was quick and prompt to accept the sway of the
Lord Jesus. He received the Word of God in the love of it most sweetly,
God the Holy Spirit blessing it to him while he listened. There was
plain teaching and a simple heart to receive it–and the two together
made quick work of it and made resplendent that strange midnight which
was, henceforth in that house, regarded as the beginning of days!
Now, dear Friend, I want you to thank God for the circumstances which
surround any man's conversion, for all things are well ordered. If the
Lord has been pleased to call you by His Divine Grace, do not begin
judging your conversion because the circumstances were not very
remarkable! And do not suspect your friend's sincerity because there
was no earthquake in connection with his new birth, for the Lord may
not be in the earthquake, nor in the wind, nor in the fire, but in that
"still small voice" which calls the heart to Jesus! The matter is not
how you came to Christ, but are you there? It is not what brought you,
so much as Who brought you. Did the Spirit of God lead you to
repentance? Are you resting at the Cross? If so, then, whether, like
Lydia your heart was gently opened, or, like this jailer, you were
startled and awakened, and thus made to perceive grand Truths to which
you had been a stranger before–it does not matter as long as Christ is
believed in and your heart yields itself to His blessed sway! Our third
point–and may the Spirit of God help us in it–is to notice–
III. WHAT SORT OF CONVERT THIS MAN MADE.
First, you are quite sure he made a very believing convert. The Gospel
command came to him–"Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and you shall
be saved, and your house"–and he did believe, believed firmly, without
raising questions or discussions, without delays, or hesitations! How
many there are among those whose conversion we seek after who meet us
always with a, "but." We put the Truth of God plainly and they reply,
"Yes–but–." Then we go over it again and put it in another shape, and
they still say, "But." We tell them that salvation is by believing in
Jesus Christ and they answer "but." This man, however, had no, "buts."
He was told to believe and he did believe–and who would not–who knows
how true the Gospel is? Who will not believe what is true? Who will not
rely upon that which is Divinely certified? Why should we reject what
thousands have proved to be true by a gladsome experience? Ah,
Unbelief, what an enemy you are to multitudes who hear the Gospel! But
you were utterly cast out of the jailer–he heard the command to
believe and, though he had received slender instruction, he
nevertheless believed unto eternal life. He was a convert full of
faith!
Next, what a humble Christian he was. He fell down at the feet of the
servants of God, not feeling himself worthy to stand in their presence.
And then, though their jailer, he took them up into his house and
waited upon them with gladness. The man who is really born-again does
not demand the best seat in the synagogue, nor disdain to perform the
meanest service. It is poor evidence of a renewed heart when a man must
always be the fore horse in the team, or else he will do nothing at
all! He who knows the Lord loves to sit at Christ's feet–the lower the
place, the better for him. He is even glad to wash the saints' feet,
yes, he thinks it an honor! If you Christian people must dispute about
precedence, always fight for the lowest place! If you aspire to be last
and least, you will not have many competitors–there will be no need to
demand a poll, for the lowest seat is undisputed. Humility is the way
to a peaceful life–and the jailer began to practice it in his behavior
to his prisoners, who were now his pastors!
What a ready convert he was! In that one midnight he passed through
several stages–hearing, believing, baptizing, service, rejoicing and
fellowship–and all within an hour! No long waiting for him! I wish
more converts were like he. What slow coaches we have to deal with. You
travel by broad-wheeled wagon to Heaven, even you who rush along by
express train in the world's business! Yes, you must attend to the
world, and my Lord and Master may wait your convenience, as Felix puts
it! But this should not be. As soon as you know what your Lord would
have you to do, every moment of unnecessary delay is a sin! The jailer
had been prompt in other duties and he was just as decided with regard
to Divine things! He was such a convert as we like to have in our
Churches to set an example of quick obedience to the Great Captain of
our salvation. Soldierly habits sanctified by Grace are greatly needed
in the Church of God–would God we saw more of them!
Then see what a practical'convert he was! "He took them the same hour
of the night and washed their stripes, and set meat before them." All
that he could do, he did at once, and his wife and children were all
busy to help him. It is not easy to fit up a feast in the middle of the
night, but the good wife did her best–cold meats were brought forth
from the stores and such good cheer as they had was set out so that the
two good men, who, no doubt, needed refreshment, were sufficiently
supplied. I think I see that midnight festival even now! How the young
children caught up every word which was spoken by the holy men and how
glad they were to see them at their table! They all believed and were
all baptized, and therefore they were all eager to do something for the
men of God. How pleased they were to fetch the good men up into the
best parlor–how eager to put them into the easiest chairs and let them
sit in comfort, or recline at their ease. They did not wait till
morning, but showed kindness without delay! This is the sort of convert
the Church needs–one who delights to serve the Lord and is no sooner
converted than he sets to work in his own hearty way! May the Lord send
us scores of such conversions!
Friend, have you ever done anything for the Lord or His cause? "No,
Sir. Nobody has set me anything to do." What? Live in these busy times
and needsomebody to find you Christian employment? Why, you are not
worth setting to work! He who lives in a great city and cannot find
something to do for God had better not get off his knees till he has
asked his Lord to have mercy upon his lazy soul! Here are people dying
all round us, and being lost forever through ignorance, drunkenness and
sins of every kind–and yet a young man of 21 stands up and says that
he cannot find anything to do! You are idle. You are very idle! Does
not Solomon say, "Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your
might?" You need not open your eyes to find good work to do, only put
out your hand and there it is! For the love of Jesus, begin to serve
Him as this jailer and his wife and family did!
Notice, again, that they were very joyful converts. He "rejoiced,
believing in God with all his house." The Apostle was happy that night.
His poor back was smarting, but his heart was leaping within him! And
Silas, too, who had shared the scourging, he also shared the joy! How
lovingly the jailer looked upon his two instructors, how tenderly he
washed their stripes. As he had thrown them into the inner prison, so
he brought them into his own house. What overflowing joy was in his
heart! I think while he was waiting at the table, he would, every now
and then, stop and wonder at what Di-
vine Grace had done! Would he not ask the Apostle to teach him that
Psalm which had been sung below stairs? I am sure he would have sung
heartily had he known that hymn which you so much delight in, wherein
each one declares–
"I am so glad that Jesus loves me!" Joy ruled at that midnight feast,
and well it might, for the prison had become a palace and the jailer an
heir of Heaven!
This man was an influential'convert, for, through this conversion, all
his house was led to believe. And he was also a sensible convert, which
is worth notice, for it is not every Christian that is wise and
prudent. Some zealous people are in a hurry to give up their secular
callings. Such would say, "I cannot be a jailer any longer. I must give
it up." A Roman jailer would have much to do which would grate upon
Christian feelings, but there was nothing positively wrong in the
office. Somebody must be jailer and who so fit for the post as a man
who knows the Lord and will, therefore, manifest a gentle, humane
spirit? Who so fit to have poor creatures entrusted to him as one who
will not swear at them, or treat them roughly, but who will seek their
good? Why, I think if a man wanted to be a missionary to those who
needed him most, he might desire to be a jailer, for he would be sure
to get at the very people who most require the Gospel! The Phi-lippian
convert was in his right place, and instead of saying, "Ah, I must give
up my situation and live with Christian people," he was wise enough to
stay at the jail and abide in his calling.
Observe that when the magistrates tell him that Paul is to go, he does
not violate their order out of zeal for the faith. He had no right to
keep Paul as a guest in his house against the magistrates' will, or he
would gladly have retained him. But being bound by his office and by
the fact that his apartments were part of the jail, when Paul was told
to go, he said to him, "Now, therefore, go in peace." The words look
somewhat curt, but no doubt he uttered them in such a kind and
courteous manner that the Apostle quite understood him. Then Paul went
down to Lydia's house and I dare say the jailer came down to see him
there, so that if they could not meet at the jail without breach of
regulations, they could meet at Lydia's hospitable abode. He was quite
right in maintaining the discipline of the jail and his sincere
affection for the Apostle at the same time.
My own belief is that he and Lydia were ever afterwards two of the
kindest friends that the Apostle ever had–and were chief among those
who contributed of their substance to his necessities. Paul took no
money from any but the Phi-lippians. Though other Churches offered to
contribute, Paul declined. But when the Philippians sent to him once
and again, he accepted their gifts as a sacrifice of sweet smell. He
said within himself, "All the family send this gift. All Lydia's
household and all the jailer's household are Believers, so that no
member of the family will grudge what is sent to me." One likes to see
brought into the Christian Church those who will continue in their
business and make money for Jesus Christ and lay themselves out to
serve the Lord in a practical fashion. Many a man gets into a pulpit
and spoils a congregation who, if he had stuck to his business and made
money that he might help the poor, or aid the cause of missions, or
support the Church of God, would have been more truly serving the great
cause. He was a sensible convert, this jailer, and I rejoice in him!
And now, if I have been addressing anybody not a jailer, but a person
in a position of trust, and if you have a feeling that you have done
faithfully, I am glad of it. I am not going to dispute your claim to
integrity towards man, nor to undervalue honesty and faithfulness, but
oh, remember, you need to be saved! Notwithstanding your moral
excellence, you will be lost unless you believe in the Lord Jesus
Christ! Do see to this. May the Holy Spirit lead you at once to accept
the Gospel of Grace, for you need it even as others. May you become a
firm Believer in Jesus, and may the Church find in you a willing and
earnest helper.