Acts 16:1–40

This chapter opens with Paul back at Derbe and Lystra — back, that is, to the scenes where he had suffered the stoning. In those very places he now finds Timothy, who was to become in his later years such a comfort to him. A happy illustration of how God's government acts in favour of the godly. We tend to think of it only as acting against the ungodly. Out of the place of Paul's sufferings sprang one of his greatest comforts.

Luke says little about the other results of the apostle's visit to Derbe and Lystra. Our attention centres on a "young disciple" there. So Timothy was not converted at this time. No doubt he was converted during the apostle's earlier visit, for Paul speaks of him as his "true child in the faith". Paul had become his father in Christ Jesus through the gospel.

Timothy fully knew what persecutions Paul endured at Antioch, at Iconium, at Lystra. Most of these persecutions happened on Paul's first missionary journey, when Timothy was perhaps only a boy. But he knew all about them, and he may have seen some of them himself. At Lystra the crowd stoned Paul and dragged him out of the city, thinking he was dead. Very probably the boy Timothy stood among the disciples who gathered around him when he rose up and entered the city.

Paul traces Timothy's faith back only to where the Christian faith began in his family, with his grandmother: "a faith that dwelt first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice" (2 Timothy 1:5). We learn from this same letter that Timothy had known the Holy Scriptures from childhood — and who can doubt that he learned them through the teaching of these godly women, or at least his mother? The grandmother and the mother had embraced the Christian faith, and so had Timothy. The apostle seems to treat this as proof that "the faith" was all the more real in Timothy's soul. It also laid on him a still more solemn duty of faithfulness to the Lord in this loose and corrupt period of the church. Every reader must conclude that it is a priceless blessing to have godly parents — parents who seek to bring up their children in the nurture and instruction of the Lord.

Confusion had entered into the practical life of the Jews, as it had among Christians. The mother of Timothy was a Jewess, his father a Greek — a thing unlawful among the Jews. His mother was godly, and his grandmother too. Now such a marriage was completely contrary to the custom of the Jews. See Nehemiah 13:23-31; Ezra 9, 10. According to these books the sons and daughters counted as heathen. They had to be rejected and sent away, along with the wife. It was a disorder.

They must above all look for the evidence that it is God who has called him. This involves the principle mentioned when Timothy first went out with Paul: he "was well spoken of by the brothers" (Acts 16:2). There were those who knew him well.

They did not have to go far before they found a new companion, Timothy of Lystra. He was to fill the gap caused by the disagreement with Barnabas. Paul lost the fellowship of Barnabas as a friend and brother. But in Timothy, his own son in the faith, he found a sympathy and a fellowship that ended only with the apostle's life.

Scripture says little about the other results of the apostle's visit to Derbe and Lystra. It concentrates our attention on a "young disciple" there. So he was not converted on this visit, but no doubt during the apostle's earlier one. Paul speaks of him as his "true child in faith." Paul had brought him to new birth in Christ Jesus through the gospel. His circumstances were unusual. He was the son of a believing Jewish woman, Eunice, but his father was Greek. The believers in those parts gave him an exceptionally good testimony.

This chapter opens with Paul back at Derbe and Lystra — back, that is, to the scenes where he had suffered the stoning. In those very places he now finds Timothy, who was to become in his later years such a comfort to him. A happy illustration of how God's government acts in favour of the godly. We are apt to think of it only as acting against the ungodly. Out of the place of Paul's sufferings sprang one of his greatest comforts.

His home was in either Derbe or Lystra, probably Lystra. His mother was a believing Jewish woman named Eunice. Genuine faith lived not only in her but first in his grandmother Lois. His father was a Greek, and since he had never been circumcised, he may have been raised as a Greek. Even so, he knew the Holy Scriptures from earliest childhood. The brothers who lived in Lystra and Iconium spoke well of him… It was at Lystra that a crowd stoned Paul and dragged him out of the city, thinking he was dead. Very probably the boy Timothy was among the disciples who "stood around him" when he "rose up and entered the city." He must also have known how John Mark had turned back from the very path of service to which he was now called. Yet he did not hesitate to follow Paul, though he must have known it would mean sharing the same kind of persecution. I wonder how many of us would have done the same.

Timothy was timid by nature (2 Tim. 1:6-8), yet Paul clearly saw him as a dependable worker with a good report from the believers. This always matters if you are concerned about doing the work of the Lord.

The servant's viewpoint and the assembly's must stay quite distinct in this matter. The servant is to be God's servant only, and not man's. Even so, the assembly has to judge whether it can share fellowship with him in his work… Above all, they must look for evidence that God has called him. This involves the principle mentioned when Timothy first went out with Paul: he "was well spoken of by the brothers" (Acts 16:2). There were people who knew him well.

The presbytery were the company of elders who doubtless knew Timothy, and so testified to it. (Compare Acts 16:2.)

Confusion had crept into the everyday life of the Jews, as it had among the Christians. Timothy's mother was Jewish, his father Greek — a thing unlawful among the Jews. Such a marriage went completely against Jewish custom. See Nehemiah 13:23-31; Ezra 9 and 10. Those books count the sons and daughters as heathen, to be rejected and sent away with the wife. It was a disorder. The Jews all knew his father was a Greek. With a Jewish mother, Timothy's position was a scandal to them, and the apostle removes the scandal. In their eyes the Greek father had made the mother impure. They would have had plenty to say if her son brought them the gospel.

To circumcise Timothy was precisely what the law would not have done. Everyone knows that when a Jew and a Gentile married, the law would have nothing to say to their children. In law, a Jewish father could not own his own children by a Gentile mother, and the same the other way round. (See Ezra 10.) Timothy was the child of such a marriage. So no one had any claim to circumcise him, even if it was allowed. And just because there was no such claim, Paul stoops in grace to those on lower ground, and stops their mouths completely. Grace knows how and when to bend, no less than to be as unflinching as a rock.

Timothy's father was a Greek, so Timothy was not circumcised. Jewish circles would not have accepted him. Paul knew this and circumcised him... In Timothy's case it was simply a matter of removing something that would have got in the way of his service for the Lord. Paul was not concerned to keep up an appearance of consistency that would have been only skin-deep. Here was a God-given helper in the work, and it was best to remove all that would hinder his labours.

The two cases look alike, yet the apostle treats the men very differently. This difference of action involves a principle, and breaking it has been the fruitful source of division in the Church of God. "Circumcision is nothing, and uncircumcision is nothing." In itself it makes no difference. But the moment anyone tries to impose it, we must resist firmly. Otherwise the liberty of the gospel is damaged, or conscience toward God is wounded. In this case it was "false brothers," not unbelieving Jews, who tried to impose circumcision and so bring the gospel under Jewish law.

Paul could circumcise Timothy (Acts 16:1-3), because no one could demand it. But with Titus, where they did demand it, the apostle firmly refuses. Grace knows what is consistent with the truth of the gospel.

Here we find a principle of real importance for our guidance. It matters all the more because Paul did something that many, one can imagine, would judge him for. It is remarkable how ready people are to judge those who know far better than they do. People who know very little are the readiest of all. Nothing is easier than forming a judgment. Whether the grounds are adequate and the conclusion sound are other questions... What alarm this must have caused among the believers, especially the Gentiles! The battle for Gentile freedom from circumcision had just been fought and won.

No one should ask them to be circumcised or tell them to keep the law. The letter only reminded them to "abstain from what has been sacrificed to idols, and from blood, and from what has been strangled, and from sexual immorality" (Acts 15:29). This left the grace of God in all its pure reality and blessing. When the Gentile believers heard it, they were glad of the encouragement.

Paul and his companions left the decrees with the churches. So the Jews there had Jerusalem's own decision: the law did not bind the Gentiles.

When the Holy Spirit speaks of the decrees, He says in Acts 16:4 that they were the decisions "reached by the apostles and elders." It was the apostles and elders who had come together to consider the matter. ... Could any gathering today, sure that the word teaches a doctrine, send a decree to other gatherings? No! There was an authority and a capacity then which no longer exist.

God had not allowed Paul and Barnabas to settle the question at Antioch. Such a decision would not have ended the argument. It would have left two separate assemblies. But the moment the Jewish Christians and the assembly at Jerusalem granted liberty to the Gentiles, no one could stand against their freedom from the law. The apostles did not settle this point by their apostolic authority, though that authority did confirm the decree.

At Jerusalem the circumcision of the Gentiles met the strongest resistance. On his new journey into Asia Minor Paul carried the decrees to the assemblies and delivered them. Those decrees had clearly freed the Gentiles from any laying of the yoke of the law on them. Yet at Lystra he himself circumcises Timothy, the son of a Jewish mother and a Greek father. For some this is inconsistency enough to discredit the whole story. ... He clearly uses the rite in the fullest Christian liberty. That liberty is always the freedom to give up your own privileges whenever it better serves the love that moves us to seek souls for Christ.

Scripture records this of the apostle and his companions. It is all the more worth noticing because the letters never mention these decrees, even when the questions discussed at the council come up there for an answer. Here again we have to see the wisdom of God. The decrees went where Jewish influence was strong. They had the highest value in settling the doubts of people who looked up to Jerusalem, and above all to the apostles and elders there.

The decrees suited the time and the place of the people who received them. Paul was notably eager to hand these decrees to churches already formed where there were many Jews. But when he wrote his letters, later in the exercise of his apostolic power, he settles the question quite apart from the decision at Jerusalem. He settles it by the truth of Christ and His work, now fully revealed.

The group of travellers, now larger, carry with them the decrees decided on by the apostles and elders at Jerusalem. These have a happy effect. They confirm the assemblies in the faith and add to their number. It is grace that establishes the soul and wins the heart to God.

As they passed through the cities, "they delivered the decrees of the apostles and the elders for them to keep." This was a lasting testimony. Suppose the Christian Jews wished to put their brothers from among the Gentiles under the law of Moses. Then they were acting against the mind and authority of the apostles and elders — the men whom the Lord had established for Christ by the Holy Spirit, and who were an authority in the Jewish church itself. That the Judaisers had no authorisation at all from the leading men gave the Gentile brothers a source of joy, and so they were established in the faith.

Here we get the first thought of establishment in relation to the Church, and what is it? Support from the world? Far from it! It is the ministry of the Holy Spirit through this beloved apostle and his fellow workers. It is the ministry of the truth that sets people free — takes them out from under law, puts them into liberty, and into the sense of "the true grace of God in which you stand." The Greek word for "establish" means "to make stable, or strong." That is real establishment. It is God's support and God's ministry, though it comes through human lips.

"The assemblies then were being strengthened in the faith and increased in number daily." So the Lord used the action of grace to help forward His testimony. Agitation is very destructive. It harms the settling of the soul, and it harms the progress of the work among new converts. Faith is fed by grace, not by questions that breed strife. Nor is it fed "by foods" — the apostle's somewhat scornful name for Jewish controversies, "which did not benefit those who followed them." And grace cannot be separated from Christ, who is "the same yesterday and today and forever." Questions apart from Him are met by varied and strange teachings that only unsettle the mind. It is good for the heart to be established by grace.

In the first few years of the church's history the spread of the gospel was remarkable. The companies of believers multiplied fast, and the numbers of individual believers rose quickly. Yet they were still all together in the same purpose, though not in the same place. There was a unity between them; they were one in the things of the Lord. They walked together in the truth, and acted together in faith and love. Across large districts, though there were many assemblies, there was but one church.

Where the word of God has its way in each believer and in the company together, increase is bound to follow. So that verse is often a challenge to me — why is there no increase? Why should it be decrease? The fault cannot be on God's side (that would be blasphemy)... So the difficulty must be on our side... This need not be numerical, although we would like to see that. Numbers alone are not always a sign of increase according to the mind of the Lord.

Take, for example, Acts 16. In verse 6, Paul and his fellow-reapers were "forbidden by the Holy Spirit to speak the word in Asia." In the next verse we read, "They attempted to go into Bithynia, but the Spirit of Jesus did not allow them." No archbishop, missionary board, or self-styled "general" was directing their movements. It was THE SPIRIT OF CHRIST. In Acts 13, when Paul and his companions set out to preach, we read that they were "sent out by the Holy Spirit." Evangelists, pastors, and teachers are the Lord's servants, and only He has any right to direct or command them.

The broad commission is to "go into all the world and proclaim the gospel to the whole creation." That in no way sets aside the need to be subject to God about the way it is carried out. His own interest in the work is so great that He cannot leave the questions of time and place — or any other matter in a work so precious — to chance, or to the judgment of men, which can fail. Even an apostle needed this, and always did. Everyone who would have success in his work must take every doubtful point into God's presence for guidance. They pass through Phrygia and Galatia, where we later hear of disciples who are largely, if not entirely, the fruit of their work at this time.

They had Asia on their mind, but they felt no freedom to go. There was no joy, no sense of the Spirit's guidance. So they had to wait until it was clear. They did not wait long, and God's larger purpose was soon revealed.

When they reached Mysia, Bithynia lay to the north or north-east, and Asia to the south. He would have gone in both directions, if he had been allowed. In the first case the Holy Spirit forbade him outright. In the second the Spirit did not let him go, which seems to show a less direct kind of guidance, working more through circumstances.

He knew all hearts, and He alone can use any mouth for God's glory. So the Holy Spirit forbade them to speak the word in Asia now. Those who believe in man may show their real unbelief in God by finding fault with this ban. Those whose confidence is in His grace will admire His care: He led them to the right place of testimony then, and He worked later in the very place He now forbade.

They could turn neither to the right hand nor to the left, so they travelled on to Troas. It was God's purpose that Paul and his company should find their proper sphere of service at that time in Europe, not in Asia. The plan of the work and its development were both of the Holy Spirit. And when they reached Troas, Paul understood why God had turned him from his own purpose, and how wise that was.

So it is very important to remember that it is no different in the work of the Lord. There the worker is always in danger of being guided by fair appearances, or of following what pleases his own mind, or perhaps the suggestions of others whom he respects.

There is no doubt at all about the true reading of the last clause of Acts 16:7. It is: "the Spirit of Jesus did not allow them." The Revised Version, or any recent translation, will show the English reader this. The phrase is unusual. We do well to ask why verse 6 calls Him "the Holy Spirit" and verse 7 calls Him "the Spirit of Jesus." … The title seems meant to remind us of the truly evangelistic heart of the Lord Jesus when He was on earth.

Christ lived in unwavering devotion to the will of God. He was obedient in all that He did and all that He said: "Behold, I have come to do your will, O God." Everything in His life pleased God. Everything was under God's direction, subject to the Spirit's guidance. We read of Him led by the Spirit, driven by the Spirit. There was no self-will, nothing of self in His walk. So how fitting this character of the Spirit is for the apostle Paul — the Spirit of Jesus directing him in his service here.

They attempted to go on into Bithynia. We know from 1 Peter 1:1 that scattered Jewish believers were living there, as well as in Galatia and the province of Asia. But this was not now the mind of the Lord for His service. To those who value Scripture, the evidence here is as plain as possible: the Spirit acted personally to correct even the apostle's proposed movements.

They came to Mysia and planned to go into Bithynia. This was not God's leading, though we are not told why: the Spirit of God stopped them. The apostles had been told to "go into all the world and proclaim the gospel." Yet they could not take this command as a permit to go wherever and whenever they wanted. They still had to depend on God's leading, though they were willing enough to go anywhere in the world.

The Lord guides His servants in different ways. The word translated "forbidden" in the first phrase could also be translated "prevent," "hinder" or "keep from." Perhaps circumstances hindered them, and they understood that this was from the Lord. In the second case they seem to have got the clear impression that the Spirit was saying "no" to their plans. And they were obedient. Clear guidance about where not to go still left them without an answer about where they should go.

Even for the apostle, the command not to go into Bithynia was not the highest sort of guidance by the Spirit. It was blessed guidance, yet not the highest an apostle knew. It was more like reining in a horse or a mule, and not so much knowing God's mind in communion.

Here we have the Spirit hindering. This is not a hindrance of circumstances, but a clear prohibition, made known plainly… The reason for it soon becomes clear. A fresh start was coming: the gospel was to go into Europe. The next chapters give us the wonderful history of that journey from Troas to Philippi and the cities of Greece. Later on Paul did a great work in Ephesus; now the Spirit hinders and forbids so that they may go further.

The Holy Spirit, as the Spirit of Jesus, closed doors in the East to lead the servants of Christ west to Europe. … Today the Spirit of Jesus leads preachers of the Word to India, China, Africa and the islands of far off seas.

But why these checks and diversions from the Apostle's purpose? Certainly the work in Galatia might have seemed reason enough for not letting him enter the Roman province of Asia at that time. But why was the way to Bithynia closed when they were so near to it? The question stayed unanswered until they passed by Mysia and came down to Troas. There Paul learned by a vision at night that they were to go to Europe.

Paul was stopped in his journeys through Asia, as we are told here, and "forbidden by the Holy Spirit to speak the word in Asia." The Spirit of God is so fully regarded as the directing person in the church… So in various ways, divine guidance was never missing.

They reached the town of Troas, "the port for embarkation for any country to which the Holy Spirit might send them."… Its harbour was good. Much of the traffic between the continents of Europe and Asia flowed in and out of it.

Paul intended to go to some other parts of Asia, such as Bithynia, to preach the gospel, but the Spirit of God closed every door in that land. It was not that the Lord did not care for those in darkness in Bithynia. We know from 1 Peter 1:1 that He sent the gospel to that land by some other messenger. But now the time had come when Europe, as well as Asia, was to have the gospel, and the Lord chose His servant Paul to preach it there.

They "came down" to Troas, which implies that Luke, the writer, was there at the time. There seems no doubt that God arranged this so that Luke could be there and travel with them to Philippi. Luke clearly stayed in Philippi when Paul and Silas left. But Luke says nothing of his own work.

When they arrived in Mysia they tried to go into Bithynia, but the Spirit of Jesus did not allow them. So they passed by Mysia and came to Troas. There Paul had a vision in a dream. This was not the open direction of the Spirit. Understanding what it meant was left to spiritual intelligence.

It is very important to remember that it is no different in the work of the Lord. There the worker is always in danger of being guided by fair appearances, or of following what pleases his own mind, or maybe the suggestions of others whom he respects… The work is His, and He alone is able to direct it in gracious wisdom and power. We are at best only His workmen in that work.

But why these checks and diversions from the Apostle's purpose? The work in Galatia might well seem reason enough for keeping him out of the Roman province of Asia at that time. But why was the way to Bithynia barred when they were so near to it? That question stayed unanswered. Then they passed by Mysia and came down to Troas. There a vision at night told Paul that they were to go to Europe.

Look at Mysia on your map. You will find it close to the Dardanelles, the narrow strip of water that separates Asia from Europe. In the vision a man of Macedonia begged him, "Come over to Macedonia and help us." Now we see why the Holy Spirit checked Paul from moving in other directions. Here was the solution to all his perplexity. Paul might never have thought of leaving Asia and going into Europe.

God sends him a vision in the night: he sees a man of Macedonia beckoning to him and saying, "Come over and help us." Nothing could be plainer than this: here was a man who felt his need. "Come over and help us" is the language of a needy man.

God gives him a fair wind. He gets across in a day and a half. When he comes back later, the same trip takes him five days. The Lord loves to send the gospel to sinners, and I think the Holy Spirit delights to record God's readiness to meet the needy soul. There was a hungry heart in Macedonia, a needy sinner. God arranges everything so that His messenger reaches that needy one quickly with the gospel of His grace.

Someone may say that we can hardly expect a vision to settle our doubts in the end. So we seem to be left without the comfort this passage might give us. But neither did the apostle expect, or generally receive, a vision to guide him. It is not given to any man to walk habitually in such open light. It would not really encourage faith, which has to do with the unseen and not the seen. And perhaps the record here serves a good purpose. It stops us expecting one fixed method of assurance, and it throws us on Him to meet us in whatever way He pleases.

So the Lord helped His servant in a positive way. They all needed direction for their work, but Paul alone saw the vision. It was a favour often shown him, and of the highest kind, which no creature has a right to expect… God never fails us in present difficulties. It is we who fail in waiting and counting on Him. And His written word, our main guide, is now complete, as it was not then… The apostle's vision impressed them all at once, and they turned their eyes and steps toward Macedonia.

Then they reached Philippi. By the small river Gangites they had their first chance to speak. We wonder if Paul looked for the man he had seen in his vision. There was no man present. A company of women had gathered at the place where people met for prayer. Lydia of Thyatira is the first convert of Europe… And it was the Lord who opened her heart.

Paul lived in the things of God. So he read the vision as his mission, by the knowledge he had of both the thoughts of God and the needs of men. He crossed over at once into Macedonia.

Alone with God, in the silent hours of the night, the apostle received what we may call fresh marching orders. Now he could understand why he had been turned away from entering Bithynia... He told his companions what he had seen and heard. They all agreed it was a call from God to cross the sea and visit that country. For we read: "concluding that God" (not "the Lord") "had called us to preach the gospel to them."

It is good that the Holy Spirit can guide His servants where they are to work. He can also forbid and hinder them if they try to go where they are not sent... At Troas Paul may have been in great perplexity, unsure before the Lord where he should go. There he had a vision, a God-given vision... We now see why the Holy Spirit checked Paul from moving in other directions. Here was the solution to all his perplexity. Paul might never have thought of leaving Asia and going into Europe.

Happy servants! They were not tangled up with the affairs of this life. They were free and ready to set out at the Lord's bidding. They sailed at once, with a fair wind, for the opposite shore.

But it is worth noticing that the language is "we", not "they" as before. Luke thus modestly but unmistakably lets us see that he joined the apostle's company at Troas. From this point the inspired writer was a personal witness. That is surely no small matter. But some hold that his account now takes on a higher character, and no error in principle could be deeper. Not so: inspiration rules out all question of degrees of certainty or of authority. It is equally of God, whether the writer saw what he wrote or not.

But neither did the apostle expect, nor generally receive, a vision to guide him. It is not given to any man to walk habitually in such open light. It would not really encourage faith, which has to do with the unseen and not the seen. And perhaps the record here may do us good. It keeps us from expecting any one method of assurance. It casts us on Him to meet us in whatever way He pleases... No doubt the man of Macedonia appeals to what is, or should be, always the driving force in us. Weighing one need against another will have its place in settling the matter for us. So will weighing what the Lord has been leading up to in His ways.

Until this time the apostle Paul had only preached the gospel in Asia. Remember that Jerusalem and Antioch and most of the other places mentioned in the Bible are in Asia. Philippi and Rome and Corinth and such places are in Europe... It was not that the Lord did not care for those in darkness in Bithynia... but now the time had come when Europe, as well as Asia, was to have the gospel.

Later in the story we learn that they made a short stay in the Troas region, where there was at least an assembly (Acts 20). But there was no indecision now, and no lingering on the way. The gospel had to be preached at once in Macedonia.

They were happy servants, free from the affairs of this life. They were free and ready to set out at the Lord's bidding, and they sailed at once, with a fair wind, for the shores on the other side.

On this gospel errand they got, so to speak, a fair wind, and covered the distance in a day and a half. When they were coming back it took five days. I suppose they had contrary winds then (see Acts 20:6). God loves to send peace to the anxious, troubled soul. He delights in that, and often gives His evangelists a fair wind, to carry the message of peace to the troubled soul more quickly.

The word "concluding" shows a precious attitude of humility. Some Christians seem to always know "exactly" what the Lord wants them to do without needing to think it over. But most of us know that we often reach a "conclusion" only after wrestling with it in our souls. Perhaps the Lord leaves us an element of "residual uncertainty" (if I may call it that) to keep us dependent. Sometimes He will confirm the decision afterwards. That seems to be the case here — it did not take them long to get there.

They set sail from Troas and took a straight course to the island of Samothrace, now called Samothraki. The next day they reached Neapolis, now called Cavallo, which was their destination. They left the ship there and travelled inland on foot to Philippi, some eight to ten miles away.

But it is worth noticing that the language is "we," and not "they" as before. Luke thus modestly but unmistakably lets us see that he joined the apostle's company at Troas. That the inspired writer was a personal witness from this point is no small matter. But no error is more serious in principle than the human notion that his account now takes on a higher character. Not so: inspiration rules out all question of degrees of assurance or of authority.

In fact the account is no more detailed while the writer was present. Conversations, differences, journeys and preachings were given when he was away, no less than when he was with the apostle's companions. How comforting this quiet evidence that in the inspired word we have to do, not merely with good men doing their best, but with a God Who cannot err or lie!

Paul intended to go to other parts of Asia, such as Bithynia, to preach the gospel. But the Spirit of God closed all the doors in that land. It was not that the Lord did not care for those in darkness in Bithynia. We know from 1 Peter 1:1 that He sent the gospel to that land by another messenger. But now the time had come when Europe, as well as Asia, was to have the gospel, and the Lord chose His servant Paul to preach it there.

The description is exactly right. It would not have been true to call Philippi the chief city or capital of Macedonia. But of that part, that district, it was. It was a Roman colony too, not a Greek one, and that had an important bearing on the events that follow — events we have in such a vivid account. There Roman armies had fought a deadly battle, not against foreigners, but against one another. There the fate of the dying republic was decided.

Philip the Great of Macedon built Philippi as a military post, to hold back the wild Thracians who lived next to the Macedonians. Later Augustus made it a Roman colony, as a memorial of his victory over Brutus and Cassius. It was not a very important city. In Acts 16:12 Philippi is called "the chief city of that part of Macedonia." This does not mean that Philippi was the chief city of all Macedonia — Thessalonica was. It means Philippi was the chief city of that district, and the first city Paul and his companions came to. The record of Paul's visit, and of how the gospel was preached there for the first time on European ground, is found in the book of Acts, chapter 16.

About 168 years before Christ, the Romans conquered Macedonia. Some years before our Lord lived on this earth, Rome sent large numbers of discharged soldiers to live in Philippi. These soldiers were very loyal to Rome, and very proud of Rome's victories. So the Roman government made Philippi a "Roman Colony." This honour freed the city from the tribute that conquered states usually paid to Rome, and its citizens enjoyed all the rights and privileges of Rome. In fact, it became a miniature "Rome."

The believers at Philippi would probably understand Paul's meaning better, and more easily, than we can, because Philippi was "a colony" of Rome. The word "colony" did not mean at all what it means to us today. It was a miniature Rome, a copy of Rome planted in the province of Macedonia. Most of its people were former Roman soldiers, and they were all Roman citizens, with the special privileges that came with that. Paul uses this unique position of the city of Philippi as a picture of the heavenly citizenship of the believers there.

The verse goes on to say, "We remained in this city some days." Clearly they wanted to get an impression of the city, and to find out how to reach its people with the gospel. When you enter a new area of service, it may help to look and listen before doing anything else. Perhaps Paul was also looking for a synagogue, since he usually spoke to the Jewish community first. But Philippi appears to have had no significant Jewish population — at least not enough men to form a synagogue.

The people of Philippi had no idea that one of the greatest days in the history of Europe, or indeed of the world, was the day Paul walked into their city — unannounced, quiet, unnoticed. Yet that is what it was. Our hearts rejoice to think of this simple scene, with so much bound up in it. It matters far more than the rise of ancient ruling families.

The work began in the heart of Lydia, which God opened. The words "a worshiper of God" show that she was a seeker, and had become a proselyte. Now, in the gospel that Paul preached, she found the full thing she had been looking for.

Her name is Lydia, a seller of purple, clearly a person with a profitable business, perhaps a widow, since she was the head of a household... Before Paul came, she was known as one who worshiped God. May there not be many seekers after light whom God takes note of in places where the pure gospel has not yet reached? The first name of a European convert was a woman's. She was peacefully at work in her lawful trade, yet she had a fear of God in her heart and was seeking light.

The heart of Lydia was opened by the Lord, as well as the lips of Paul that spoke to her. He spoke to her and she attended to him; and both of these things were of God. How simple, and yet how necessary! The Lord lets us know we need both of these operations in His great discourse in John 6. He teaches us that if the Father does not give to the Son, if He does not draw, if He does not teach, the ministry will be lost on the soul. The bread of life, the true manna of the desert, will be spread out in vain.

Whether she had already been born again cannot now be settled. But it is certain that while she listened to Paul's message the Spirit of God worked with the glad tidings of grace, and produced faith in her soul.

Until the heart is touched, the mind will not be fixed. So notice what it says: God opened the heart of Lydia "to pay attention." The mind runs on the will's errand. We spend our thoughts on whatever our hearts choose. If the heart has no sense of its ignorance, or no desire after God, no wonder such a person does not listen to the preacher. His heart sends his mind somewhere else.

Lydia was not one of those who go to meetings and think about anything and everything except the things spoken by the Lord's messengers. She was not thinking about her purple, or the prices, or the likely gains and losses. How many of those who fill our preaching rooms and lecture halls follow Lydia's example? Sadly, we fear very few indeed.

So with the jailer and Lydia in Acts 16. She was devout, gentle and gracious, and the Lord, by a very gentle operation, opened her heart. An earthquake went with the unlocking of the bars of the jailer's strong iron heart. With Lydia's heart, "the still small voice" had done the same work.

It is a great thing when the heart is opened. What do you think happens when the heart is opened? The Lord gets His right place there... First her heart is opened, and then the next thing is that her house is opened. Is your house used for the Lord? If it is, that is a very happy thing. If you do not use your house for the Lord — even if it is only one room or two — I do not think He has a very big place in your heart.

One soul had been won for Christ. Though the work during this first visit of the apostle was not large, it was so thorough that it became the foundation of a church. In its spiritual state, that church was surpassed by none we have on record in the New Testament. The stability of a house depends greatly on its foundations. In the same way, the character of a church often comes from the nature of its beginning.

Lydia's was a very real and decided case, in every respect. It was direct, positive, and unmistakable. She received Christ into her heart. At once she took Christian ground by being baptized, and baptism carries deep meaning. Nor was this all. She opened her house at once to the Lord's messengers. Hers was no mere lip profession. She proved her faith in Christ in two ways. She went down under the water of baptism. She also joined herself and her household to the name and cause of that blessed One whom she had received into her heart by faith.

It is a great thing when the heart is opened... The Lord gets His right place there. She is the first in Europe to identify herself with the Lord. I believe that in Lydia you have the first convert to Christ in Europe... First of all, her heart is opened, and then the next thing is her house is opened. Is your house used for the Lord? If so, it is a very happy thing. Perhaps your house is only a room or two. Even so, if you do not use it for the Lord, I do not think He has a very big place in your heart.

Were the members of it saved? Were there children in it or not? On all this the Scripture is absolutely silent: and it is not silent to give us the opportunity to speculate about these matters... the important thing for us is to note what the Scripture says, and not add our own thoughts: and the Scripture records that Lydia's household was baptized, without any mention whatever of faith, real or otherwise, on their part. As the record stands, Lydia's whole household was baptized on the ground of her faith.

We do not hear of children or of husband; she may have been a widow without a family or never married. She had a household, and in verse 40 we hear of the brothers there, believers therefore, and probably not men only but women. We hear nothing of little children. God's record is wonderfully full and exact in every other detail, yet it does not even hint at anything of the kind.

So, when she was baptized, "she urged us, saying, 'If you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord.'" This faithfulness, the fruit of faith, was not something given after her baptism. On the contrary, their baptizing her implied their conviction that she was faithful.

There is great moral beauty in Lydia's words to Paul in Acts 16... There is a great principle wrapped up in these words. To accept hospitality where there is obvious and definite unfaithfulness to Christ the Lord is to prove that He has a very low place in our hearts.

The word here translated "constrained" is found only twice in the New Testament, and it is used the same way in both places. Lydia "constrained" Paul and Silas to stay with her (Acts 16:15). The two disciples "constrained" our blessed Lord in the same way, saying, "Stay with us." It is a strong word. In classical Greek it can even mean doing violence to someone. So in these scriptures it means constraining in the sense of taking no denial. How such a constraint must have delighted the Lord's heart, and with what joy He would answer a request pressed like that!

The love of Christ was there and made her, little knowing the value of her gracious insistence in His sight, to be a fellow worker with the truth (3 John 8).

The better manuscripts put "the" with "prayer" in verse 16, so "the place of prayer" is the more likely meaning. ... Satan tried a new way of doing harm. He did not attack the gospel; he publicly backed it — and this went on for many days.

Paul and his companion entered that city because the Lord had called them there. They were soon found at the place of prayer, where Lydia's heart was opened to receive the things of the Lord. There is no doubt the enemy knows the power of prayer among believers, and he does everything he can to hinder it.

In Acts we find a girl controlled by a spirit of divination, or of Python. This was the prophetic oracle at Delphi, held to be the centre and focus of pagan divination. An evil spirit connected with that oracle had taken hold of this young woman.

From the passage in Acts 16:16, it would also appear that people were employed in this way apart from any temple or sacrifice.

It was an astonishing testimony. The crowd accepted her as a true prophetess, yet her whole condition spoke of dreadful bondage to an evil spirit — to anyone who could see it! ... If Satan will testify, he shall testify by being cast out. For a time the apostle simply ignored his effort to attach himself like a parasite to the tree of life. At last he brings to bear on him the power of the Name of Jesus Christ.

Most men would have welcomed such words from the lips of this girl as an encouraging testimony to the work. Why then was Paul grieved? ... Because it was of Satan; and the apostle was certainly not going to receive testimony from him. He could not allow Satan to help him in his work.

Here Satan tries to tamper with the work by bearing testimony to the ministers of the word. Not that this spirit acknowledged Jesus — he would not then have been an evil spirit... He speaks of the agents, to have a share of the glory.

At once there was a great uproar, and why? Because the owners of this poor girl saw that their money-making had stopped. When you touch a man's pocket he begins to wince. Nothing shows sooner where a man is.

Here, then, was a case perfectly suited to test the spirituality and integrity of the evangelist. Most men would have welcomed such words from the lips of this girl as an encouraging testimony to the work. Why then was Paul grieved? Why did he not allow her to keep bearing witness to the object of his mission? Was she not saying the truth? Were they not the servants of the Most High God? And were they not showing the way of salvation? Why be grieved with — why silence such a witness? Because it was of Satan; and the apostle was certainly not going to receive testimony from him. He could not allow Satan to help him in his work.

The "Most High," then, throughout the whole range of Scripture, is an expressive title of God as the Sovereign Ruler in the kingdom of men (Dan. 4:17). The demon-possessed man confessed Jesus as the Son of the absolute Lord of the universe. In the same way, the fortune-telling girl owned Paul and Silas as the servants of the Most High God (Acts 16:17). They anticipate in this way the divine decree that all infernal beings shall bow the knee to Jesus and confess Him Lord to the glory of God the Father (Phil. 2:9-10).

A girl possessed by a satanic spirit of divination followed Paul and his companions. Greedy promoters were taking advantage of her. She advertised the men as servants of the Most High God, come to show the people "a way of salvation," not the way. It is always Satan's method to draw attention to the servants rather than to their Lord. Paul put up with this improper activity for many days. Then at last he commanded the evil spirit, in the name of Jesus Christ, to come out of the girl, and it happened that same hour.

Here Satan tries to tamper with the work by bearing testimony to the ministers of the word. Not that this spirit acknowledged Jesus — he would not then have been an evil spirit, he would not have possessed the girl in this way. He speaks of the agents, in order to have a share of the glory, and of the Most High God... The testimony of Satan could not go so far as to own Him Lord; and if Paul had not been faithful, it would have mixed the work of the enemy with that of the Lord.

Demons can adopt a pleasant appearance as well as a repulsive one... They can also tell the truth when it suits them. The demon who said to the Lord, "I know who you are—the Holy One of God," spoke the truth (Mark 1:24). So did the demon-possessed girl who cried after Paul and Silas through the streets of Philippi, "These men are servants of the Most High God, who proclaim to you the way of salvation" (Acts 16:17). But when these evil beings speak the truth, they do it to win their victims' trust and so make sure of their everlasting ruin.

An act of such uncompromising decision as well as power roused the enemy working through human greed. But it is well to note that the apostle did not act in divine energy until Satan's persistence made it a duty.

Satan tried a new way of doing harm, not attacking the gospel but supporting it, and this went on for many days. Distressed by it, the apostle at last turned and ordered the evil spirit to leave her, which happened in the name of Jesus.

Why then was Paul grieved? Why did he not allow her to keep bearing witness to the object of his mission? Was she not telling the truth? Were they not the servants of the most high God? And were they not showing the way of salvation? Why be grieved by such a witness — why silence her? Because it was of Satan; and the apostle was certainly not going to accept testimony from him. He could not allow Satan to help him in his work.

There was no testimony to Christ in these words. Later the apostle wrote to the assembly at Corinth, to help the believers there tell when evil spirits were at work among them: "no one can say 'Jesus is Lord' except in the Holy Spirit." So all Satan could hope for was to frustrate the preaching of Paul and his companions. He would act as their sponsor, and then claim the results. The Spirit of God is all the power a servant needs. To seek or accept any other influence or help from the world is to corrupt the work and limit the action of God's Word.

Such a firm and powerful act stirred up the enemy, who worked through human greed. But it is worth noting that the apostle did not act in divine energy until Satan's persistence made it a duty.

Would Paul accept help in the work from such a source? The Lord would not when He was on earth (Luke 4:35, 41). Nor would His servant. So, grieved by her behaviour, Paul at last turned round and drove the demon out: "I command you in the name of Jesus Christ to come out of her," he said. "And it came out that very hour" is the historian's account (16:18). The girl was set free from the demon. The power of the name of Christ was displayed... That it was a demon and not divine power everyone could see; for when commanded in the name of Jesus Christ, it at once obeyed and left its victim.

What she said was true enough, but she was not true in saying it. This was the serious point in the case. It is one thing to say, or agree with, what is true, and another thing to be true in saying it. What use was it to repeat the formula day after day: "They show to us the way of salvation"? All the while she stayed unsaved and unblessed.

There are two principles you find all through Scripture — corruption and violence. In the garden of Eden the devil corrupts Eve; and what comes next? Cain kills Abel, that is, violence. It is the same in the scene before us. Satan tries to corrupt God's work before Paul can develop it. When Paul refuses the devil's help, notice the change in his tactics. Satan tries to crush the servants of God, and violence comes out.

But no sooner was Satan repulsed as the serpent, than he took the character of a lion. Craft having failed, he tried violence.

Literally, "gone out"; it would seem in allusion to the going out of the demon.

Covetousness is a mainspring of the world's activity, "covetousness, which is idolatry" (Col. 3:5). The men whose hope of gain vanished with the cast-out spirit seized Paul and Silas with no legal right. They dragged them into the market-place, where you would find the local rulers then, even more than now. Notice that only here does the inspired historian call the magistrates in Philippi by the Greek word that answers to praetors. This is striking evidence of exact accuracy. The city was a colony, and a colony was just Rome on a small scale, with its two chiefs.

The fact is, if you want to touch a man of the world most effectively, the spot to touch is his pocket. There is scarcely a man here tonight who cannot be touched through his pocket. These men were touched there, for when Paul commanded the spirit, he came out of the girl. She was, in fact, delivered from the power of the devil, and that is what you need, my friend... it is a solemn truth that the man who is not under the power of the gospel is under the power of Satan.

When her employers saw that the hope of making gain through this spiritist medium was gone, they decided to vent their rage on the servants of the Lord. They said nothing about the young woman, or about the real reason for their anger.

It is worth noticing that, whatever his efforts, Satan cannot hide his true character. What was the cause of the enmity of these accusers of the apostles? Simply and only the loss of their gains, because the girl had been healed. But notice: they do not say a single word about this. Instead they come forward pretending to care for the peace of their city, like public benefactors. And to gain their object they bring a series of false accusations. As our Lord said of Satan, "When he lies, he speaks out of his own character, for he is a liar and the father of lies." (John 8:44.)

This was calculated, and no doubt intended, to stir up the mob. They felt Roman pride and privilege all the more keenly because they were not purely Roman. Such people put up with each other's religions, but they were jealous of anything that looked like an attack on them. The appeal worked.

But God makes use of all this to direct the progress of His own work, and give it the form He pleases. There is the jailer to convert, and the magistrates themselves must confess their wrong towards the messengers of God. God gathers out the assembly, a flock (as the letter written to them shows) full of love and affection... The enemy was mistaken here. If he stopped their work at Philippi, he sent the apostles to preach elsewhere.

The enemy failed in his effort to mix himself up with God's work. So he falls back on his ordinary and natural way of fighting it: human interests and passions. Greed is one of the driving forces of the world's activity — "covetousness, which is idolatry" (Col. 3:5). These men lost their hope of gain when the spirit was cast out. So they broke the law themselves, seized Paul and Silas, and dragged them into the market-place, where the local rulers of that day could be found — even more so then than now. Only here does the inspired historian use for the magistrates of Philippi the Greek word that matches the Roman title praetors. This is a striking mark of accuracy: the city was a colony, and a colony was simply Rome on a small scale, with its two chief officers.

Virtuous, law-abiding people indeed! Worthy citizens of Philippi! This is the character they now put on. What had they cared about Roman law, or about the preaching of Paul and Silas, as long as their pockets were untouched? But now their source of income had dried up, and out they came in this new disguise. Satan can disguise himself as an angel of light when it suits his purposes.

No one doubted that Paul and his companions were Jews. But there was no evidence at all that they had disturbed the city — except through the casting out of the evil spirit. The second charge could not be proved either: that they taught customs which Romans were not allowed to accept or practise. None of that mattered to the accusers, as long as they could get these preachers of the gospel condemned.

This was calculated, and no doubt intended, to stir up the mob. The crowd was all the more touchy about Roman pride and privilege because they were not purely Roman themselves. Men who could count as Romans tolerated other religious groups among themselves, but they were jealous of anything that looked like an attack on them. The appeal worked.

This is an old accusation, and one which always comes from the wrong side. Pontius Pilate could find no fault in Jesus. Even so the priests and the rulers insisted all the more: "He stirs up the people, teaching throughout all Judea, from Galilee even to this place," Luke 23:5. What do they say against Paul and Silas at Philippi? "These men are Jews, and they are disturbing our city," Acts 16:20. And at Thessalonica? "These men who have turned the world upside down have come here also," Acts 17:6.

But "these men" had carried the gospel of the grace of God into Philippi. They were telling men and women who lived in the darkness of paganism, and who were rushing to destruction, about the Saviour who died for the ungodly. They were putting immense blessings within reach of the people, all "without money and without price." No truer friends ever visited the city. Yet these preachers stood before the magistrates charged with being troublemakers, and were flogged at once and thrown into prison!

But God makes use of all this to direct the progress of His own work, and give it the form He pleases. The jailer is to be converted, and the magistrates themselves are to admit they were wrong about the messengers of God. A church is gathered out — a flock full of love and affection, as the letter written to them shows... The magistrates are forced to come and plead with Paul. Such is the result of the tumult. The enemy was mistaken here.

Roman law forbade interfering with a country's own religion. Now Paul and Silas were preaching Christ. So an accusation, an indictment, was ready to hand... Virtuous, law-abiding people indeed! Worthy citizens of Philippi! That is the character they now took on. Had they ever cared about Roman law, or about the preaching of Paul and Silas, while their pockets were safe? But once their source of gain dried up, they came out in this new guise.

What was the cause of the enmity of these accusers of the apostles? Simply and solely the loss of their gains, because the girl had been healed. But notice: they do not say a single word about that. Instead they come forward looking like men concerned for the peace of their city, as public benefactors. And to get what they want they present a series of false accusations.

The accusers aimed this at the crowd, and no doubt meant to stir them up. The crowd was all the more touchy about Roman pride and privilege because they were not pure Romans. Men who could call themselves Romans might put up with other religions among themselves. But they resented anything that looked like an attack on them. The appeal worked.

Remember that Philippi was a Roman colony. Many of its citizens were Romans, descended from Roman soldiers. They were very proud of being Romans, and they despised and hated the Jews... Paul was a Pharisee, the son of a Pharisee, the strictest group among the Jews. His upbringing made him very proud of his race, and taught him to hate and despise those he called "sinners of the Gentiles."

Their accusers first denounce them because they were Jews, secondly because they said they were greatly troubling the city, and thirdly that they taught customs which these men alleged were unlawful for Romans to receive or observe. They have no specific charge of criminal activity.

The prejudice against Jews was great. The last part of the charge held a certain amount of truth, and it had power to rouse the fanaticism of Romans. "Even under the republic, the letter of the Roman law opposed bringing in foreign religions. The law did allow exceptions, as with the Jews themselves. But its spirit condemned any change in worship that might unsettle the minds of the citizens, or stir up a noisy uproar."

This is an old accusation, and one that always comes from the wrong side. Pontius Pilate could find no fault in Jesus. Still the priests and the rulers insisted all the more: "He stirs up the people, teaching throughout all Judea, from Galilee even to this place" (Luke 23:5). What do they say against Paul and Silas at Philippi? That these Jews are disturbing the city. And at Thessalonica? "These men who have turned the world upside down have come here also" (Acts 17:6).

But "these men" had carried into Philippi the gospel of the grace of God. They told men and women about the Saviour who died for the ungodly. These people were living in the darkness of paganism and hurrying to destruction... No truer friends of the people ever visited that city. Yet the preachers stood before the magistrates charged as troublemakers, and were flogged at once and thrown into prison!

But God makes use of all this to direct the progress of His own work, and to give it the shape He pleases. There is the jailer to be converted. The magistrates themselves must confess that they were wrong about the messengers of God. God gathers out the assembly, a flock full of love and affection, as the letter written to them shows... The magistrates have to come to Paul and beg. That is the result of the riot. The enemy miscalculated here.

Roman law did not allow anyone to interfere with a country's religion. Now Paul and Silas were preaching Christ. So a charge was ready and waiting... Virtuous, law-abiding people indeed! Worthy citizens of Philippi! That is the character they now took on. What had they ever cared about Roman law, or about the preaching of Paul and Silas, as long as nobody touched their pockets? But once their source of gain dried up, they appeared in this new guise.

The motives were purely human, the influence was Satan's. The motives put before the magistrates were nothing but false pretexts. They worked on the pride and the fear of the authorities, who wanted peace. It was the enemies who disturbed that peace, not the Christians... The magistrates ask nothing more. The accusers had stirred up a crowd fighting for its privileges.

We need not agree with Bengel that the two chief magistrates stripped Paul and Silas with their own hands. But the special word used, and the whole sense of the passage, rule out the idea that the magistrates tore their own clothes. They certainly gave the command to beat them with rods, though no court had condemned them. That was an open violation of Roman law, and it left the magistrates open to severe punishment if anyone had brought a case.

Nature might have judged otherwise. But faith judges that the servant of Christ was far 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 could have been an honoured man, publicly owned as "a servant of the Most High God." He only had to accept the girl's testimony and let the devil help him in his work. But he could not do this, and so he had to suffer.

Every form of law was twisted in this trial... So Satan seemed to have won a great victory. But why did the Lord allow His servants to be beaten like this? What follows gives the answer. In that prison there was a poor soul whom God, in His eternal counsels, had chosen in Christ... The unjust accusations, the violence of the crowd, the illegal action of the magistrates — these were simply His tools for carrying out His purpose. In this way the word of the gospel reached the jailer's home, and blessed him and his household. Satan, in all he did, was only the blind instrument of God's will.

Now that they had endured all this, one thing needed to be proved. Paul and Silas were not criminals, justly punished with flogging and prison and the stocks. The guardians of the law themselves were guilty of open, obvious and inexcusable wrong against the preachers of the gospel... There was not the least sign of resentment. There was no wish to hurt these officials, or to squeeze anything out of men who now lay wholly in the power of those they had injured without cause.

It is certain that they gave the command to beat them with rods, though the men had not been condemned. This was an open violation of Roman law. It left the magistrates themselves open to severe punishment, if anyone had brought proceedings against them.

True, Paul might have saved himself. He might have been an honoured man, owned and acknowledged as "a servant of the Most High God." He only had to accept the slave girl's testimony and let the devil help him in his work. But he could not do this, and so he had to suffer.

They were brought to the prison, with a charge that the jailer would "keep them safely." But we are told that "he put them into the inner prison and fastened their feet in the stocks." That shows us they had no favour with the jailer at that time. It is enough to show us the condition of his heart. He did not know God's love, and did not feel it. So his heart had none of that love for fellow believers which always marks those who are born of God.

In that particular prison there was a poor soul whom God, in His eternal purpose, had chosen in Christ. He was therefore the object of God's mercy and grace… But the time had now come, in God's purpose, to bring this hardened soul out of darkness into His marvellous light. The unjust accusations, the violence of the crowd, the illegal action of the magistrates — these were simply the instruments for carrying out God's purpose. By these means the word of the gospel reached the jailer's home, for the blessing of himself and his household. In everything he had done, Satan was only the blind instrument of God's will.

But God makes use of all this to direct the progress of His own work and give it the form He pleases. There is the jailer to be converted, and the magistrates themselves are to confess their wrong towards the messengers of God. The assembly is gathered out, a flock (as the letter written to them shows) full of love and affection… The enemy was mistaken here. If he stopped their work at Philippi, he sent the apostles to preach elsewhere.

Faith can sing as sweetly in a dungeon as at a prayer meeting. It does not matter where we are, as long as 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. He can give them victory over the most hostile circumstances. He can make them shout for joy where human nature would be overwhelmed with sorrow.

Stocks in which the feet were shut up. Job 13:27; Job 33:11; Acts 16:24.

Not content with putting them into the inner prison, he placed their feet fast in the stocks. Their backs were cut and bleeding. They were weak from loss of blood. This was a horrible Eastern prison of the first century, very likely with no daylight, overrun with vermin, and with no sanitation at all. Their feet were fast in the stocks, which held them in one position. It allowed neither comfort, rest, nor sleep.

The jailer seems to take a brutal pleasure in his treatment of them. He does not say, "Come along; I am sorry I must lock you up." Instead he appears to serve the master he had then with delight. He "put them into the inner prison and fastened their feet in the stocks."

It is certain that they ordered the men to be beaten with rods, though no court had condemned them. That was an open violation of Roman law. If anyone had brought a case, the magistrates themselves would have faced severe punishment.

But now that they had endured this, it was right that one thing be proved. Paul and Silas were not evildoers, justly punished with scourging and prison and the stocks. The guardians of the law were the guilty ones. Their unrighteousness against the preachers of the gospel was flagrant, obvious, and inexcusable.

To all appearance, Satan had gained a notable victory. But why did the Lord allow His servants to be beaten like this? The answer comes in what follows. There was a poor soul in that prison. In the eternal counsels of God he had been chosen in Christ, and so he was the object of God's mercy and grace... The unjust accusations, the violent crowd, the illegal action of the magistrates — these were only the means of accomplishing God's purpose. By them the word of the gospel came into the home of the jailer.

How little the devil expected such a result from the imprisonment of the Lord's servants! He was outwitted. The tables turned on him. He meant to hinder the gospel, and look — he was made to help it on. He hoped to get rid of two of Christ's servants, and instead he lost one of his own.

What are stripes or stocks, or prison walls, or gloomy nights? They are only a dark background that makes the living grace in them shine out, bright and beautiful. Talk of circumstances! It is little any of us know of trying circumstances. The small annoyances of daily life are often more than enough to make us lose our balance. Paul and Silas were in trying circumstances indeed.

His chains had become a way of reaching men in the highest positions. The believers knew this already. When he was with them at Philippi, he could sing praise after being thrown into the inner prison, and there his chains became the way of reaching a sinner at the lowest social level. The stocks, the dungeon, and the midnight darkness all served to carry the gospel further.

Prisoners had no doubt shouted many curses in that place. They were powerless to do more than curse, or to threaten those who had imprisoned them. But with Paul and Silas how different! For "at midnight they prayed and sang praises to God." Prayer might not seem out of place. But praises — who would have expected them? These were clearly no weak efforts to cheer each other up, or to put a brave face on their troubles. For the prisoners heard them. Those whose feet were fast in the stocks, unable to move or even shift their position, were the freest in spirit that night.

Singing and praise belong together. At the first Lord's Supper they "sang a hymn" — the Greek word is hymneo — Matthew 26:30. Translators render the same word "sang praises" to God when Paul and Silas were in prison, Acts 16:25. And the Lord sings praise among His people, Psalm 22:22; Hebrews 2:12.

Suppose someone had passed by outside that night, not knowing the circumstances. He would have concluded that they were having a good time in there. But what were the facts? The stocks held their feet fast. Their backs were sore and bleeding from the beating they had received. They were hungry, cold, and without comfort — and yet they were not only praying, but praising. They were showing the character of holy priests, and were soon to act as royal priests. As holy priests they were turning to God in prayer and intercession, and offering up to Him praise and thanksgiving. They were able to thank and bless the Lord in the worst circumstances.

I do not think their prayer was, "Lord, let us out." I believe they prayed, "Lord, turn this to Your glory. Turn this to the salvation of souls. Turn this to the blessing of precious souls in this prison. And, O Lord, keep those who have believed, and especially Lydia — keep them firm."

What a new sound it must have been! Suppose it had happened in a Christian land — however poorly any land deserves that name. We would think of the memories such a sound would stir in even the hardest hearts. But here there were no memories to stir. It was a new gospel of gladness going out, which those old Romans knew nothing of in such circumstances. They could die well, as we know. They faced death stern and grim, with a song on their lips too, as heroes and patriots. But all that was inspiration from earthly sources, and nothing strange to men. Here was inspiration of another kind. It was a new sound, not of this world, and it held the listeners by its confidence and joy in a God they could not see.

Satan had stirred up the city against these servants of the Lord. He thought he had won a great victory by getting them imprisoned. But God would have the glory over the enemy, and so He filled the mouths of Paul and Silas with praise in the very seat of the enemy's power. God had given them songs in the night. Those songs went up like sweet incense before His throne, and a testimony went with them that bore fruit for eternity.

While others slept and darkness covered the place, these two devoted servants of God kept crying out in prayer for the testimony of Christ. God heard them, and He answered in a remarkable way... He answered the faith and confidence of His servants by an earthquake — not one earthquake, I think, but two. There was a physical earthquake, which shook the prison at Philippi to its foundations. But it became the means of a moral earthquake in the soul of this poor godless pagan jailer.

Could any facts show more clearly whose purpose and hand had worked for His injured ministers? Men could easily argue that an earthquake might happen, and with the most remarkable coincidence of circumstances. But who ever heard of an earthquake so great that it shook the foundations of a large building — not just windows or walls, not just chains or bolts? And all of it so finely adjusted that it threw down nothing and injured no one!

If nothing more had happened, unbelief might have argued that the earthquake was only a common, natural event. It could have claimed the quake had no direct link with the hand of God, or with the imprisonment of Paul and Silas. But the account adds, "everyone's bonds were unfastened." No violence of an earthquake could produce that result. Only God stepping in directly could.

On each of these occasions the Lord Himself chose to show by outward signs that He was present. He approved the testimony His servants were bearing in His name. The Lord Jesus was speaking from heaven. It was His voice... giving strength and encouragement to His witnesses, and blessing His servants with clear tokens of His love and care.

God's power has no limits, in mercy or in judgment. This time He would show it in grace... That all-powerful arm could justly have been raised with the sword of vengeance. It could have pierced the heart of the man who had dared to chain the feet of His dear servants, and hurled him at once to the pit of eternal destruction. But mercy triumphed over judgment.

These men would otherwise have wanted nothing more than to escape and go back to their lawless life. Yet they were so overawed that not one stirred from the opened prison. It was the God of all grace who answered the prayers and praises of His prisoners. He knew how to control the wicked, and He was guiding His servants for His glory.

Suppose Paul had not been in full communion with the mind and heart of Christ. He would surely have turned to Silas and said, "Now is the moment for us to escape."... But no; Paul knew better... 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 jailer would never have been a jewel in his crown.

God had intervened on behalf of His servants. Yes, and better still, the shock woke the jailer in two ways. First, from his bodily sleep; second, praise God, from his soul's slumber. The shock opened his eyes, and he asked that question of all questions, "What must I do to be saved?"

The jailer wakes up. He realises the doors are open. In a minute he says to himself, "They are all gone; my life is forfeited." He draws his sword, and is about to commit suicide. He knows they will take his life in the morning, for that was the Roman law. If a jailer allowed a prisoner to escape, he had to forfeit his life for the man he had let go. Historians tell us that Philippi was the most remarkable place for suicides. It was quite the fashion, and this poor man was about to launch himself into eternity.

His reaction proves very plainly that the earthquake, and everything that came with it, had not touched his heart. He naturally supposed, when he saw the doors open, that the prisoners were all gone. He could not imagine many prisoners sitting still in jail with the doors open and their chains loose. And then what was to become of him if the prisoners were gone? How could he face the authorities? Impossible. Anything but that. Death, even by his own hand, was preferable to that.

He awoke out of sleep; his conscience owned it as God's dealing. His first feeling was despair and self-destruction. His heart sank and terror filled his mind. His imagination drew the most hopeless conclusion, and Satan's last effort with him was the foul suggestion, "Kill yourself."

Suppose Paul had not been in full communion with the mind and heart of Christ. He would surely have turned to Silas and said, "Now is the moment for us to escape. God has clearly appeared for us and set an open door before us. If there was ever 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. So he made no move 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 guided that way, the jailer would never have been a jewel in his crown.

God's power is unlimited, both in mercy and in judgment. In this case He would show it in grace. He who struck Saul with blindness and brought him to the Saviour's feet could also bring the jailer there. That all-powerful arm might justly have lifted the sword of vengeance. It could have pierced the heart of the man who dared to chain the feet of His dear servants, and hurled him at once to the pit of eternal destruction. But mercy triumphed over judgment.

He was that near to eternal ruin. How often it has happened in the history of souls that they came to the utmost extremity just as grace was about to appear for them.

Under Roman law, letting a prisoner escape meant death. He knew that death stared him in the face. He was about to send his own soul into eternity by killing himself. Then Paul cried with a loud voice, "Do not harm yourself, for we are all here." These words saved him from physical death. But a far deeper question now troubled him. With the drawn sword in his hand he had stood on the very edge of eternity. His sleeping soul had woken up to its desperate need.

Here a deeper purpose was in hand, and a great earthquake announced it. Paul and Silas had been praying to God in hymns, and they stayed in the prison to declare His wonderful works. Yes, these other men would naturally have wanted most of all to escape and go back to their lawless life. Yet they were so overawed that not one moved from the opened prison. It was the God of all grace who answered the prayers and praises of His prisoners. He knew how to control the wicked, and He was guiding His servants for His glory.

Paul, we should notice, was not in the same room as the jailer. So he could not have seen that the man was about to kill himself. But in some way — God taught him — he saw the trap Satan was laying for this poor soul. He cried with a loud voice, "Do not harm yourself, for we are all here." The jailer was snatched first from death, and what had happened marked his soul so deeply that he saw more than a human hand in it.

But notice how beautifully the grace of God stepped in. He heard the voice of God's servant, the man he had treated so harshly a few hours before, saying, "Do not harm yourself, for we are all here." See the effect on this man. The earthquake woke him out of his sleep. Yet I do not think it was the earthquake that touched his conscience. It was this: he heard a man he had treated so brutally, only hours before, calling to him in the most tender, loving way, and stopping him from taking his own life, which he would otherwise have done. Is that not a lovely word for every sinner, "Do not harm yourself"? How many are harming themselves, fighting against God, fighting against the truth, refusing to bow to Jesus.

And notice, Paul did not speak one syllable of reproach to the jailer, or even of criticism. This was Christ-like. It was the way of divine grace. If we look through the Gospels, we never find the Lord throwing reproach at the sinner. He has tears of sorrow; He has touching words of grace and tenderness. But no reproaches — no criticism — not one hard word for the poor distressed sinner.

They had something better — "the excellencies of Him who called them out of darkness into His marvellous light." And where do these excellencies shine out? In those touching words spoken to the jailer, "Do not harm yourself." These were the words of a royal priest, just as the song of praise was the voice of a holy priest. Thank God for both! The voices of the holy priests went straight up to the throne of God and did their work there. The words of the royal priests went straight to the jailer's hard heart and did their work there.

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... And surely there was love in those words, "Do yourself no harm," coming from the lips of one to whom he had done so much harm a few hours before.

It was in the darkness that Paul had spoken, and the jailer must have thought to himself: "How could that prisoner know I was going to kill myself? How could he know what I was doing in the dark?" He had a sense in his soul that God was there. He called for a light. When a man begins to think seriously about the concerns of his soul, he always wants light. And I will tell you another thing. Every soul I have known come out of nature's darkness into the light of the gospel said the same thing as the truth dawned on it: "I begin to see it."

But imagine how this overwhelmed his conscience. The apostle stopped his hand from suicide by calling out loud that all the prisoners were still there! Light from God penetrated his dark heart on the instant, with a deep desire for mercy, before he got the lights he called for. He needed no more hint about where to turn for the truth he wanted... The depths of his soul were broken up. As his sins rose from every hiding place, he felt instinctively that now was the moment to find God.

He called for a light, sprang into the inner prison, and trembled with fear. There he was, at the feet of Paul and Silas — the last place he had ever expected to be. Then he brought them out. Was it pity only that now took possession of him, or remorse for his treatment of them? There was more than that. Conscience-work had begun in his soul. He was now fully awake. He felt a need so urgent that it would not wait, and would not let him hide it.

In that instant the voice of God had spoken to him. The keeper and his captives had changed places. Those words breathed perfect authority, and with them came great mercy to him. That mercy set aside everything self-concern prompts, to care for a careless and hardened persecutor. This struck him with the conviction that God was with these men. He was in their hands, and not they in his. Conscience and heart woke in him together — the sense of sin, and the goodness that drew him after it.

Light had entered his soul, and it showed him his hopeless condition. We can see the Spirit of God at work here. He was drawn to the feet of men whose mission was to open blind eyes. They were sent to turn people from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan to God.

But God makes use of all this to direct the progress of His own work and to give it the form He pleases. There is the jailer to convert, and the magistrates themselves must confess their wrong... Paul and Silas sing instead of sleeping quietly. The doors burst open. The jailer himself is converted, and his family too... The enemy was mistaken here.

Salvation in any lesser sense is not to be thought of. The earthquake was soon over, the prisoners were all safe; what had he to fear from Roman justice? But God had awakened his soul, and his sins troubled him. He was not facing death from man, but divine judgment at the close of everything. God's servants were there to tell him the way of salvation — the men for whom He had just stepped in with a miracle. Learned men may think what they like. They have never felt the burden of their sins; they catch at words and waste time on doubtful questions. But the jailer's burning anxiety was about the salvation of his soul.

I do not think it was the earthquake that converted the jailer. There were two great quakes that night. The earthquake woke the jailer from his sleep. The second one — I had better call it a soul-quake — woke him up to his state before God. It was not the physical danger that did that... That is a picture of what the gospel does. I tell you, it produces a moral earthquake in a man. When you come under the power of the gospel, you collapse. God lays hold of you and reduces you to nothing.

The Philippian jailer was awakened to a deeper sense than that of being undone in the eyes of men. He called out to the apostle Paul and his companions, "Sirs" (the word means "Lords"), "what must I do to be saved?" This once brutal ruffian, who had treated them shamefully, now approached them with the greatest respect.

This was irresistible. A hardened sinner could face an earthquake; he could face death itself; but he could not stand against the mighty melting power of love. The hardest heart must yield to the moral influence of love... Love can break the hardest heart. And surely there was love in those words, "Do not harm yourself," coming from the lips of a man he had harmed so much a few hours before.

We would say, No. It is the cry of an awakened soul. He sees his danger. He has just seen the power of God displayed, and he knows he is exposed to it. He wants to be rescued from it. This is not a cool theological question, like the one the Pharisees asked in John 6:28. It is like the awakened cry of those convicted by the Spirit under Peter's preaching at Pentecost: "Brothers, what shall we do?" (Acts 2:37). At the same time, the anxious man little dreams of the fulness of the precious answer... Nothing to do, for all has been done.

Are you recognising that you can bring nothing to God? That even the things which might be a gain to you among men are worthless before Him? That you are a sinner, and as such lost and undone? That you can therefore do nothing towards your salvation, and that if you are saved it must be by the work and grace of another? If you are, then we can unfold to you the blessed truth in these words: "Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved."

It was salvation that filled the jailer's whole soul, nothing less than salvation — not religious ceremonies, but salvation. This is also the anxious question of every truly enlightened soul. And we need not go to commentators or learned doctors for the right answer, for the Scriptures tell us plainly.

But what is the jailer told to do? God's answer to man's query is beautiful in its simplicity. "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and you shall be saved, and your house," falls on the ears of the awakened sinner. He had only to believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and he would be a saved man. There is no word of anything that he must do to get salvation. This gospel exactly meets helpless sinners who have no strength. No wonder the jailer believed at once.

Nothing that he could do could secure God's salvation. The doing had all been done by Christ. All that is left for the sinner is taking hold of the results of His mighty work by simple faith.

Why does he here repeat all these titles of the Saviour? Because he is presenting Him to this anxious soul as the Object of faith, and in such a way as to fully satisfy his awakened conscience... If the question of the troubled heart is, Is He willing to save me? The answer is, Yes; He is JESUS, and came into the world for the very purpose of saving sinners. If the question is, Is He able to save me? The answer is, Yes; He is "LORD of all," and has all power in heaven and on earth. And He is the CHRIST, the anointed One in heaven, following on His finished work on the cross. That is the unquestionable proof that everyone who has come as a sinner to Him the Saviour is forgiven and blessed.

The Scripture says this, "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and you shall be saved." It is not enough to know that the Bible says so. The devils know that well enough, and so does the unbeliever. But do you know that God says so — that it is God speaking to us in the Bible? Now, if God says so, is it not true?... The jailer understood it to mean just what God said, and he was baptized at once. He raised no questions. "He rejoiced, believing in God with all his house." If he believed and rejoiced, why should you doubt?

We often quote Acts 16:31, but too often we leave out the last three words. God loves to identify a man's house with himself and include them in His offer of blessing. Why do we not more often take hold of this fact in our faith?... This is surely most encouraging for every head of a house whom the grace of God reaches. God shows no partiality: what He is to one He is to all.

His being brought to God puts his whole house in a sanctified (set apart) position, as 1 Corinthians 7:14 plainly teaches. In this way the house is saved. Yet each person in the house must still personally receive the Lord Jesus to have eternal salvation.

There "only believe" was quite in place, and to have "demanded good works" would have been worse than useless. Yet within one short hour of conversion the jailer performed his first good work, the fruit and proof of his faith... He did it not to be saved, but as the result of the change that grace had worked within.

But you might say to me: what did this man know about the Lord Jesus Christ? I do not think he knew anything at all about Him up to that moment. That is why the next verse is so important. They did not stop at merely saying, "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ." They unfolded the gospel to him. They brought out the glorious truth of the Person of the Lord Jesus Christ.

But this was not all the jailer heard. From the words "they spoke the word of the Lord to him," I have no doubt Paul brought out the account of the birth of Jesus, and of His holy, gracious life. He told the story of His death on the cross when men put Him there, and how at that moment He completed the work of redemption, which He alone could do. He told how God laid on Him the iniquity of us all, and how He who knew no sin was made sin for us. After His suffering ended in His atoning death and the shedding of His blood, He was laid in the grave for three days. After the third day He rose from the dead, and was received up into glory at the right hand of the Father.

Some assume that the jailer's house held only children, too young to be responsible. But Scripture lets us press the disproof to the very end. Verse 32 adds that they spoke the word of the Lord to him and to all who were in his house, as if the Holy Spirit had planned in advance to leave no possible excuse for such strange teaching. Only those who could hear the word were concerned at that moment. The call itself brought no one else within the terms of the blessing, whatever grace might do afterwards.

So here the jailer rejoiced, but not as a stand-in for his family. They too rejoiced, as truly in their measure as he did. Only his joy, as one who had believed in God, is named. We are meant to understand the joy of faith in the case of all. It is a beautiful picture of how real and active God's grace is in this world, and this in the whole house of a hardened pagan.

Here the salvation of his house stands as the normal result of his own believing. In what follows we hear nothing of their faith, only of his — though we read that they spoke the word of the Lord to him and to all who were in his house. It is "he" rejoiced, "he" believed.

They sang praises with their feet in the stocks. They had kept the jailer, who had shown them no kindness but the opposite, from the guilt of suicide. Now we learn how grace worked in him. He displayed the fruits of the divine nature. He took them that same hour of the night and washed their wounds. He confessed the Lord and was counted as His disciple, along with his household, for all of them were baptized at once. He set food before Paul and Silas, who no doubt needed it. He showed thought, love and concern for these two men — surely the fruit of that divine nature which he had just come to share.

The "house" of the believer also came inside the blessed circle of grace. So the households of God's people become spheres of light in the moral darkness of this world. But this only happens where they know the truth, and hold to the Lord's claims and authority.

What a marvellous change! The ruthless jailer has become the generous host! "If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come." How clearly we can now see that Paul was right in not being guided by circumstances! How much better and higher to be led by the "eye" of God! What an eternal loss it would have proved to him had he walked out at the open door! How much better to be led 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!

The jailer took them "that hour" of the night, however awkward the hour might seem. That is the force of the words, rather than "the same," which the text does not say, though of course that was true as well. But we must give exactly what was written and meant. After washing their stripes he and all his were baptized without delay, it would seem within the prison grounds. Then he brought them "up" into his house, apparently above the prisoners' quarters, saw to their food and comfort, and rejoiced with all his house, having believed in God.

The jailer heard the gospel: "Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved." He believed, and he was saved. Clearly he believed with his heart and confessed with his mouth… He did not wait till the morning.

He is born again by the word of truth, and his whole way of life is changed… A few hours before, he saw nothing more in Paul and Silas to call out affection and sympathy than in the other prisoners. But now he sees everything with new eyes… This was a fine example of the fruit of the Spirit, and it proved that his profession was sincere. His love was not in word and in tongue, but in deed and in truth.

But more than this, he carried out the mind of the Lord: "he was baptized."… He knew that the Lord Jesus Christ had saved him. He knew that he had redemption in Christ through His blood, the forgiveness of sins according to the riches of His grace. So it was not a burden but a sweet privilege to take part in an ordinance where he would feel for himself what it means to be buried with Christ. Faith does not argue; it believes and acts on God's word.

"And was baptized, he and all his." What an expressive phrase: "HE AND ALL HIS." Here we have our warrant for household baptism. "He and all his" represents, as briefly as could be wished, the divine and gracious principle that runs all through God's dealings with His people.

Thoughtful men on all sides admit that the households of Scripture decide nothing about this. There may have been no infants… We never hear of Peter or anyone else setting out first of all to baptize. They set out to preach. Then those who received the word were baptized.

These prisoners had shown what spirit they were of. They sang praises with their feet in the stocks. ... Now we learn how grace worked in him. He showed the fruits of the divine nature. He showed that he was converted. Consideration for them came first. He took them that same hour of the night and washed their stripes... he set food before Paul and Silas, who no doubt needed it... and now, his heart full, he rejoiced greatly with all his house, having believed in God. How well he could now understand those two singing hymns to God at midnight, since he and they shared the same grace and the same joy.

And now everything is changed. The jailer takes the prisoners into his own house — his cruelty is turned into love, sympathy, and hospitality... What an eventful night! What a change in a few hours! And what a joyful morning dawned on that happy house!

He was told to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and I read that he believed in God. Why was that? What he had heard led him to see that the blessed Man he had been told about, the Lord Jesus Christ, was really God. The blessed One who became Man to die for his sins and save him was the eternal, blessed Son of God. Accepting that truth and believing it with the simplicity of a little child, he believed in God "with all his house." Note that! Not only he himself, but his whole house was marked out for blessing. Paul had found his man, but he got a good many besides.

The record is as plain as possible. The Philippian jailer asked in deep distress what he must do to be saved. He was not told to be baptized first and believe afterwards. He was told, "Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved, you and your household" — without one word about baptism. No one doubts that he and all his were baptized that same hour. But the word of God is too wise and holy to hint at any such thing. It gives not the smallest support to the idea that he was baptized before he believed, just because it says later that he rejoiced, believing in God. On the contrary, look at the tenses. His joy stands in the aorist, the simple past. His faith stands in the form that implies a present, continuing result of something already past.

The Greek phrase for "with all his house" is without doubt adverbial. But that makes no real difference to the sense... So here the jailer rejoiced. He did not rejoice as a representative standing in for his family. They rejoiced too, as truly as he did, in their measure, though his joy as believing in God is the one specified. We are meant to understand the joy of faith in the case of all. A beautiful picture of the reality and activity of God's grace in this world — and this with the whole house of a hardened pagan.

We have to translate it this way, since any other rendering in English is awkward. Even so, "with all his house" is not used here as it is later with Crispus, where it says he "believed with all his house" (Acts 18:8). Here it is an adverb, and there should be a reason for the difference — the effect being to make the joy more simply his own. At least this is certain: although they had spoken the word to all who were in his house, faith is ascribed to him alone.

Paul and Silas were in dire circumstances, yet they made the praises of God ring through the prison at Philippi. What results followed, for the blessing of men and the glory of God! A whole household "rejoiced, believing in God." Do we wonder that Paul's later letter to the believers at Philippi is so full of rejoicing?

Rhabdouchos literally means "one who carried a rod." He was a junior Roman officer who attended the magistrates to carry out their orders. Another name for him was lictor. Acts 16:35, 38. These men carried a bundle of rods with an axe in the centre.

Another mark of a Roman colony appears here: the praetors employed lictors as their subordinates. The vague name "serjeants" hides who these men were, just as "magistrates" hides the higher officials.

Now that everything was calm, the magistrates tried, in the wisdom of the world, to let the affair blow over in silence. But when God works and shows Himself, He makes it plain that He has rights in this world.

The work in the prison is done, and now the prison doors can hold them no longer. When day came, the magistrates sent the lictors with a curt message: "Let those men go." But Paul wants no avoidable reproach left on the testimony. He refuses to be dismissed this way. The magistrates had wronged these men in public without ever condemning them.

But now that they had endured all this, it was fitting to prove the truth. Paul and Silas were not evildoers, justly punished with scourging, prison and the stocks. The guilty ones were the guardians of the law. Their injustice against the preachers of the gospel was open, obvious and inexcusable. The time came when the praetors sent to let them go...

The angry, crowd-pleasing surrender to unjust shouting had now passed away. The next morning came word to dismiss the abused prisoners of the day before. The jailer naturally repeated his orders, no doubt glad to release them. But Paul was now as firm for the vindication of the gospel as he and his companion had earlier been meek under their lawless violence. He stood in a dignified way for the law too, which these men were administering so unworthily. If there is a time to keep silent, there is a time to speak. The Spirit alone can guide us as to which. The word alone is enough, since it warrants both, each in its right season.

The preachers of grace were certainly not going to swerve from grace, least of all now that the truth was clear. They had no wish to dishonour any human institution. They wanted the opposite — to be examples of submission to it for the Lord's sake, the very submission they urged so plainly on others. They were easily persuaded, having never thought of a prosecution.

Paul refused to accept this. But by standing on his rights as a Roman citizen, did he hold to the truth of his heavenly calling? Was he still at the spiritual level of the night before, when he and Silas prayed and sang praises to God? That may be questioned... He did not plead his citizenship to save himself from scourging and imprisonment, but only to expose the injustice of the magistrates.

At Philippi he was right; but his use of the plea that he was a Roman sent him to Rome.

The next morning the magistrates sent word to him: "Let those men go." So he came and said to Paul, "The magistrates have sent to let you go. Therefore come out now and go in peace." What a change between the way he received the Lord's servants and the way he sent them away! A wonderful change comes over a man when he receives the gospel. The jailer knew it well as he said "Go in peace" — the very words his Lord and Saviour had often used to others.

Here is another sign of a Roman colony: the praetors used lictors as their junior officers. The vague English word "serjeants" hides who the lictors were, just as the word "magistrates" hides the higher officials, the praetors.

News of the earthquake may have reached them, or news that Paul and Silas were Romans. As soon as it was day, they sent word to the jailer to "let those men go." He told Paul and Silas the order at once, and wanted them to leave in peace. But Paul refused to accept his freedom without some public admission of the wrong he had suffered… The famous words of Cicero had become a proverb, and they carried great weight everywhere: "To bind a Roman citizen is an outrage, to flog him is a crime."

When day came, the magistrates sent the lictors with a curt message: "Let those men go." But Paul wants no avoidable reproach left on the testimony. He will not slip away like this after such a public wrong done to men whom no court had condemned.

The jailer passed the order on, no doubt glad to release them. But Paul was now just as firm, in a dignified way, in defending the gospel — and even the law, which these men administered so unworthily — as he and his companion had been before, when they bore their lawless violence with uncomplaining meekness. If there is a time to keep silent, there is a time to speak. The Spirit alone can guide us as to which, and for that the word is enough, since it warrants both, each in its due season.

Paul refused to accept this. But we may ask whether he held to the truth of his heavenly calling when he took the ground of a Roman citizen, or whether he stood as high spiritually as he had the night before, when he and Silas prayed and sang praises to God. Either way, notice this: he did not plead his citizenship to save himself from flogging and prison. He pleaded it only to expose the injustice of the magistrates.

But God uses all of this to direct the progress of His own work and to give it the shape He pleases. The jailer is to be converted, and the magistrates themselves are to confess the wrong they did to the messengers of God. The church is gathered out — a flock full of love and affection, as the letter later written to them shows… The magistrates have to come and plead with Paul. That is the result of the riot. The enemy was mistaken here.

They came with a command from their superiors to let the prisoners go. In their zeal for the law those magistrates had ordered a beating and a prison cell. Now they were to learn that they were the law-breakers. They had beaten two men who held the right of Roman citizenship, and had done it without a verdict. The Romans guarded that right closely, and breaking it was no light matter for the offender. The magistrates had thereby laid themselves open to prosecution. So, at the mercy of their victims, they now cringed before them.

The famous words of Cicero had passed into a proverb, and carried immense weight everywhere: "To bind a Roman citizen is an outrage, to scourge him is a crime." The magistrates had plainly broken the Roman laws. But Paul demanded only one thing. They had treated him and Silas as guilty in public, so they must come and declare them innocent in public.

Earlier Paul and his companion had borne their lawless violence in uncomplaining meekness. Now Paul was just as firm, in a dignified way, in defending the gospel — and even the law, which these men administered so unworthily. If there is a time to keep silent, there is a time to speak; and the Spirit alone can guide as to either.

It was right that the truth should be shown. Paul and Silas were not evildoers who deserved the beating, the prison and the stocks. The guardians of the law were the guilty ones, and their wrong against the preachers of the gospel was blatant, obvious and inexcusable… Yet there was no sign of resentment in Paul, and no wish to hurt these men or to squeeze anything out of them. They now lay completely in the power of the two men they had injured for no reason.

One thing more remained to be done. God's servants had been publicly shamed and unjustly condemned, and God would have them publicly cleared… It is a fair question whether Paul, in taking the ground of a Roman citizen, kept true to his heavenly calling. Either way, notice that he did not plead his citizenship to save himself from the beating and the prison. He pleaded it only to expose the injustice of the magistrates.

When Paul tried to use his rights as a Roman to stop injustice, he lost his liberty and went to Rome as a prisoner, even though the Lord was directing everything. But here he did not try to stop the injustice. He submitted to it. He used the right only afterwards, when the question was the innocence of the gospel and of its conduct, and when it turned out that the magistrates, and not he, were in the wrong.

But God makes use of all this to direct the progress of His own work, and give it the form He pleases. The jailer is to be converted, and the magistrates themselves are to confess the wrong they did to the messengers of God. God gathers out an assembly there, a flock full of love and affection… The magistrates have to come and plead with Paul. Such is the result of the tumult. The enemy was mistaken here.

Their fear drove them to beg Paul and Silas not only to leave the prison, but the city. It is good to see that Paul and Silas were not at all defiant, but went along with it, as true servants of God.

The word literally means "one who carried a rod." This was a junior Roman officer who attended the magistrates to carry out their orders. He was also called a lictor. Acts 16:35, 38. These officers carried a bundle of rods with an axe in the centre.

In zeal for the law those magistrates had inflicted corporal punishment and imprisonment. Now they were to learn that they were the law-breakers. They had beaten two men without trial, and those men held the right of Roman citizenship. The Romans guarded that right closely, and to act against it was no light matter for the offender. The magistrates had laid themselves open to prosecution. So, at the mercy of their victims, they now cringed before them.

The lictors bring back Paul's words to the magistrates. When they heard that the men they had made suffer were Romans, they could not hide their fear. They came and begged their prisoners. It was a humiliation for them, and just as clearly a triumph for the men entrusted with God's gospel. These men had suffered only as Christians, with the Spirit of glory and of God resting on them.

They had been publicly put to shame and unjustly condemned. God would have His servants just as publicly vindicated. In the morning the magistrates sent a message to release the apostles. Paul refused to accept it.

Earlier Paul and his companion had borne their lawless violence with uncomplaining meekness. Paul was now just as firm, in a dignified way, for the vindication of the gospel — and even of the law, which these men administered so badly. If there is a time to keep silent, there is a time to speak. The Spirit alone can guide as to either. The word alone is enough for this, for it warrants both, each in its due season.

Here he did not try to stop the injustice; he submitted. He used this right only afterwards. By then the question was the innocence of the gospel and of its conduct, and it had turned out that the magistrates, and not he, were in the wrong.

Did he hold to the truth of his heavenly calling when he took the ground of a Roman citizen? Was he still at the spiritual level of the previous night, when he and Silas prayed and sang praises to God? Both may be questioned. Either way, notice this: he did not plead his citizenship to protect himself from flogging and prison. He pleaded it only to expose the injustice of the magistrates.

The preachers of grace were not inclined to turn away from grace, least of all now that the truth was clear. Nor had they any wish to dishonour any human institution. They wanted rather to be patterns of that submission themselves, for the Lord's sake — the very submission they were so well known for urging on others. They were easily persuaded, having never thought of a prosecution.

In their zeal for the law, those magistrates had beaten the men and put them in prison. Now they were to learn that they themselves were the law-breakers. They had flogged two men who held Roman citizenship, and had never even tried them. The Romans guarded that right jealously, and breaking it was no light matter for the offender. So the magistrates had left themselves open to prosecution. Now they were at the mercy of their victims. They cringed before them and, as Paul had insisted, came in person, brought them out of the prison, and asked them to leave the city.

The famous words of Cicero had become a proverb, and they carried immense weight everywhere: "To bind a Roman citizen is an outrage, to flog him is a crime." The magistrates had clearly broken the Roman laws. Yet Paul demanded only one thing. They had publicly treated him and Silas as guilty, so they must now come and publicly declare them innocent. They did this willingly, seeing what wrong they had done.

Earlier Paul and his companion had borne their lawless violence with quiet, uncomplaining meekness. Now Paul stood just as firm, in a dignified way, to clear the name of the gospel — and even of the law, which these men administered so unworthily. If there is a time to keep silent, there is a time to speak; and the Spirit alone can guide as to either.

The officers bring Paul's words back to the magistrates. When they heard that the men they had punished were Romans, they could not hide their fear. They came and begged their prisoners. It was a humiliation for them, and just as clearly a triumph for the men entrusted with God's gospel. These men had suffered only as Christians, with the Spirit of glory and of God resting on them.

Paul is concerned that no avoidable reproach should be left on the testimony. He will not let them dismiss him like this after the public wrong done to men who were never tried.

The preachers of grace were certainly not likely to turn away from grace, least of all now that the truth was clear. They had no wish to dishonour any human institution. They wanted to be examples of the very submission to it, for the Lord's sake, which they so plainly urged on others. They were easily persuaded, for they had never thought of a prosecution.

Their fear drove them to beg Paul and Silas to leave not only the prison but the city. It is good to see that Paul and Silas were not at all defiant, but submitted to this urging, as true servants of God.

Paul refused to accept this. He now stood on his rights as a Roman citizen. Did that hold to the truth of his heavenly calling? Was he still on the spiritual level of the previous night, when he and Silas prayed and sang praises to God? Both may be questioned. Either way, notice this: he did not plead his citizenship to save himself from flogging and prison, but only to expose the injustice of the magistrates.