SINGING IN PRISON
Acts 16:16-34

A sermon given by the Rev. Richard H. Taylor
August 14, 2005 / 13th Sunday of Pentecost

Paul and Silas are in prison, and they are singing. Is that what you would do? Sing when you are in love. Sing when you get to run through a meadow on a bright spring day. Sing when you have finally finished a hard project. But sing in prison? Hardly. Sing when people are holding you back? Hardly. Sing when you’re not in charge of your own life? Hardly.

My sense is that most people in the world don’t sing much any more. My sense is that most young people don’t sing much anymore. And its not only because we lack music programs in the schools to teach people how to sing. Oh, true, lots of young people give hours to MTV or some expensive I-pod. They put something in their ear and mouth some humming excuse for a melody – “da, DA, DA” But its not quite singing. It’s letting someone else entertain us. It’s letting some outside sound try to tell us everything is upbeat, honky-dory. Or, what’s worse, some even use lots of alcohol, beer parties on Friday nights, or crystal meth, to simulate joy, to imagine you’re up, to fake feeling good. But it’s not singing.

And a lot of people are in prisons. Some of them are in soul prisons. Some young people are in prisons they did not choose. Some have families with abusive parents. Some are in a bodily prison, with some treatable physical ailment that has never been diagnosed or addressed. Some are in a prison of poverty: they want to do good in the world, but are working two jobs so they can go to school, and are exhausted beyond belief; every morning they wonder if they can get up. Some are in a prison of responsibility: sick parents, too many brothers and sisters, too many needs at home to find their own life. Many young people are in prisons they did not choose or create.

But many are in prisons they did participate in building. Some – too many – are in real prison, because of emotions, because of fighting, because of stealing, because of wanting to get rich quick dealing drugs. Some are still on the street, in prison to drugs and alcohol, looking for the next fix, the next bottle, driven by obsession. Some are in a prison of greed: they are going to have to drop out of college because they were tempted by a credit card, tempted by that dress, tempted by that mini-refrigerator. Some are in a prison of stupidity: they partied so often that they flunked out of college and now can’t get a job.

Some people are in prison because they are guilty. Some people are in prison and they are innocent, its not their fault.

And some people are out of prison who are just as guilty as anyone inside, and they know it. They act like they are free, but a voice taunts their inner ear saying “guilty, guilty, guilty.” Their smiles fade at the moments of internal reflection.

But sing in prison? Which of us, when we have really felt locked up, really felt constrained, really felt our freedoms taken away have started singing?

In some ways Paul and Silas are the innocent type of prisoners, though the chains are just as heavy. Paul and Silas have gone to Philippi and have been going around teaching. There a slave girl has been following them around who is emotionally disturbed. Everywhere they go she follows, and she is screaming “these are God’s servants.” It is annoying beyond belief. Have you ever been followed around by a person with an obvious emotional problem?

But have you also ever noticed how some very disturbed people are also very perceptive? As a pastor I've noticed that. Some of the people I've worked with who are the most disturbed, most unable to manage their lives, most often a nuisance to others, yet will at times have profoundly truthful perceptive comments come out of their mouths.

There is sometimes some kind of magic around such persons. Having been startled by what they say, we want to hear more. This slave girl’s owners know that. So they have set her up as some kind of a sooth sayer, a fortune teller, and they are making nice money at it. But Paul sees that the girl has no peace. Neither does he when she is around! So he commands the evil spirit out of her, he helps her to calm down, she finds a moment of peace; and the slave owners are livid. The slave owners cause a big fuss, nearly a riot, drag Paul and Silas around and get them thrown into prison.

And it is during the imprisonment that we find them singing.

When I first heard this story I was just a kid. As a child I thought the world was just black and white. To me Paul and Silas got to sing in the prison because they were the good guys. They were the friends of God. They were innocent. They were wearing white hats. The good guys get to sing, and the bad guys don’t. As simple as that.

But now I don’t see it that way.

This Paul guy is no 100% good guy.

Don’t you know his story? He was so hateful when he was young, so filled with vengeance that he participated in a mob riot that murdered the young Christian Stephen. He held the coats of the mob while they stoned Stephen. And if that’s not enough, he also organized a posse, another mob to ride to Damascus to persecute the peaceful Christians there.

This Paul is not 100% nice guy. This Paul guy has lived in a prison of hatred. He has lived in a prison of violence. He has lived in a prison of vengeance. He knows all about life in a prison before he gets to Philippi. He has been just as guilty, just as self-centered, just as rabble rousing as the slave owners who hauled him in and have imprisoned him this day. Part of him would be fully justified in sulking over what many would call his just deserts, some retribution for his evil.

So where does the song come from?

Paul has met Jesus Christ. Paul has been called out of the prison of persecutor. Paul has been called out the prison of being vengeful. Paul has been called out of the prison of being violent. He had been in shackles to his youthful emotions, but now he is set free. Paul has been freed from other prisons. This one is less of a problem.

But wait a minute. Silas is also here.

Silas is not guilty of what Paul did. Silas is actually from a rather morally strict branch of the Christian church. Some people think he was picked to travel with Paul to balance out Paul’s emotional excesses.

Silas is in a prison, and probably pretty innocent.

But, you know, in a Roman prison that kind of mix was probably true of the other prisoners as well. Rome was a notoriously corrupt culture. There are probably a lot of innocent people in that prison. There are also probably a lot of guilty people as well.

Yet both Paul – guilty, and Silas – innocent, sing!

How do you sing?

Paul can sing because he has been freed from other emotional prisons, and knows that prison has no dominion over him. But Silas can also sing because he knows prison has no dominion over him. Many of us end up in some kind of prison. But prison is not the ultimate stuff of life.

Knowing God is the ultimate stuff of life. Living filled with goodness is the ultimate stuff of life. Sharing good songs and good stories with other people is the ultimate stuff of life.

So why not sing? Why not sit there and talk with the other prisoners about being free from temptation, being free from hate, being free from violence.

So the other prisoners are engrossed, the other prisoners are listening, the other prisoners hearts are on fire with a message that they perhaps not heard before.

So the earthquake comes, the chains and shackles fall from the walls. You would expect all the prisoners to get up and run out. But they don’t. Because to be free from the prison cell, may not free them from the prisons of self-will, the prisons of low-esteem hatred, the prisons within. They are listening to a better liberation than the one offered by the opening of the jail house doors.

The same is true of the jailer. He is imprisoned by his desire to be rewarded by the Roman governors. He is imprisoned by his desire to look good, and strong, and powerful, and masculine. He is imprisoned by his desire to be somebody. “What shall I do to be saved from such desires?” “Believe that you are loved. Believe that you are someone. Believe what God in Jesus Christ can do for you!”

Let me tell you that true freedom is not a matter of the prison door. There are people in prison who are as guilty as hell. And there probably are some people in the ACI who are relatively innocent. And there are people who have never been behind a prison door who are as guilty as hell. They are like those slave owners, taking advantage of a little girl, willing to ruin people’s lives, to create mob scenes, to throw people into prison so they can make some more money. There are people on the outside who are slaves to sin.

And there are people on the outside who are suffering like the little girl was suffering. Suffering from some illness, perhaps some emotional abuse experienced in life as a young slave, people whose lives are chained, held back, imprisoned, waiting for the person to say the word and they will be healed.

Everyone in this story has had some type of imprisonment: Paul to hate and violence; the young girl to disease and oppression; the jailer to prestige and reputation; the slave owners to money, greed, and power; Silas to the abuse of powerful wealthy sinners. Everyone gets tied up some time. Everyone gets locked in some time.

But it is time to be free! It is time to give up the standards of the world. It is time to learn to sing. It is time for the prisoners to tell stories of liberation to each other. It is time to set aside the discouragements, the frustrations, the strictures and be free. Let us sing.

Amen.