In which I use slang I may regret.

Luke, the doctor-scholar of the New Testament, joins the merry duo of Paul and Silas in Acts 16. I was much amused by watching the ado-less pronoun switcheroo from “they” to “we” as Luke hopped aboard the gospel express to Macedonia in verse 10. Much like the healing switch from collagen III to I (highish yield: collagenase requires zinc!), further subtle perspective shifts occurred from third to first person and back again as the story progressed. Luke went down with Paul and Silas to a place of prayer to tell people about Christ, but when Paul gets into trouble for casting out a spirit, only Paul and Silas get nabbed, scourged, and clapped in irons.

Then follows another entertaining, interestingly subtle episode. Paul and Silas are altogether indefatigable. Probably with their new whip-wounds smarting, they sang hymns of praise to the Father in prison. Overnight, an earthquake renders all the people in jail both woke and shook, and the jailer right then resolves to shuffle himself off the mortal coil for shirking his duties (surely he shooketh). But Paul cried out, saying, we’re all here! Chill thyself [citation needed]. Then the jailer said the most extraordinary thing: “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?”

The jailer did not see Paul and Silas (and Luke, the slippery one) preaching the gospel in the city. He didn’t receive any particular indication that Paul and Silas were offering salvation. All he saw was that these two strange men were in prison, but free. They were bound, yet they were absolutely not bound. They were wounded, but they were overflowing with praise. Whatever salvation entailed, if it was what these men had, he wanted it.

So he was saved, and his whole household, by believing on the Lord Jesus. He took Paul and Silas into his house, washed their wounds, and was baptized with his whole household. Then he fed them.

Next, interesting caveat (Luke’s storytelling is full of read-between-the-lines): the next morning, government officials come to the prison and tell Paul and Silas that they are released.

Hold up, hold up. Aren’t Paul and Silas presumably resting after their feast at the jailer’s house? Why are they in prison again the next morning? It must be assumed that after the joyful scene of salvation, washing, and eating, Paul and Silas willingly returned to prison (it didn’t seem to be the jailer’s idea; he was overjoyed that he could tell Paul to leave prison in v.36).

Surely these strange men have turned the world upside-down. Imprisoned wrongfully, they rejoice. Given the choice to stay in prison or leave, they still choose to return until all righteousness is fulfilled. When people see such people, without their needing to ask, they know that something is up. These guys have something that the other people in this world don’t have.

As those who have the life of God in them, the Spirit of Jesus Christ, Christ Himself, we also have the ability to live a life that confounds and mystifies. The life within us is transcendent and victorious, even when we are in a non-transcendent, defeated position outwardly. When we live this life, other people watching will eventually come to us and ask, “what must I do to be saved?”