They were still praying, trusting, and hoping. Why? Because they knew who was with them and who was for them: the risen Christ.
1. When the mission falls apart before it starts.
Those early days of the church are full of watershed moments, many of which are preserved for us in Scripture. The events of Acts 16, however, constitute some of the most critical truths to understand. Those were days of serious transition for the church; or, put another way, those were the days when the church seemed to be a magnet for obstacles (which might still be true today, honestly) — none bigger, perhaps, than the falling out of Paul and Barnabas over whether or not to recruit John Mark for their second missionary journey (Acts 15:36–40). By all appearances, the separation of the church’s dynamic duo added more than a little dash of angst and perplexity in the mission of advancing the gospel of Christ. What was the rest of the church supposed to do or think now? Despite the apparent tension still filling everyone’s minds, Paul wastes no time arranging another journey, the focus of which would be to strengthen the churches he had just visited (Acts 15:40-41; 16:4-5). Notwithstanding the kind of obstacles that threaten the work of God, what God intends always prevails.
His word is unchanging and unstoppable, which is what allows the church to sing, even at midnight.
This is the undercurrent of the entire Bible, but especially this chapter. As the word of God’s gospel goes forth, it is frequently met with opposition and obstacles. In the case of Acts 16, those obstacles often take a variety of forms. Whether it’s “principalities and powers,” the opposition of high-ranking policy-makers, or just the daunting perplexities of life, no matter what, God’s will always unfolds just as he promised. His word is unchanging and unstoppable, which is what allows the church to sing, even at midnight. This, indeed, is what gives the church — you and me — utmost joy, confidence, and assurance, even when our hopes, dreams, and plans go awry. For Paul & Company, this was an all too frequent occurrence.
2. Holy detours and riverbank revivals.After Paul and Silas recruited Timothy to join their ranks (Acts 16:1–3), they made arrangements to visit the regions of Phrygia and Galatia (a.k.a. modern-day Turkey), which is where the gospel was preached during Paul’s first missionary journey (Acts 16:6). As they strengthened those congregations and invited them to rest in Jesus’s finished work for them, the plan was to venture further North into Bithynia. But God had other plans (Acts 16:6–10). Despite their best intentions, the doors kept closing. Obstacle after obstacle rose to prevent their efforts from being realized. This is when Paul receives a vision, confirming that they are needed elsewhere. What might have appeared as an obstacle, therefore, was God changing their plans and rearranging them to align with his. The obstacles were far from over, though.
After being rerouted to Philippi (Acts 16:12), Paul and Silas arrived to find no synagogue, let alone “a church.” Their only lead was a rumor that a group of faithful folks had a habit of congregating along the riverbank, which is why they ventured down there on the Sabbath (Acts 16:13). That riverside assembly, though, was not much more than a group of women who gathered to pray and worship. They weren’t well-versed in the particulars of the gospel, but that’s why Paul had come — he was there to bring to bear the grace and truth of Christ to those women. As he and Silas set about proclaiming and baptizing, that assembly of women soon began to resemble a church. It was around this time that yet another obstacle presented itself.
As Paul and his crew ventured down to the designated meeting spot, a poor demon-possessed slave girl began to follow them all over town (Acts 16:16). Luke tells us that she was afflicted with a “spirit of divination,” which means she was adept as a necromancer and fortune-teller. Her owners picked up on this, and instead of praying for her or bringing her somewhere to get the help she needed, they exploited her, using her “gifts” to fill their own pockets. Nothing else is known about this girl, though it’s probably safe to assume that her upbringing was more than a little traumatic, with much of it spent in the throes of abuse, either from her owners or from the demon who had consumed her faculties. This girl’s life was a living hell. She was a means to an end, excluded from anything to do with mercy or pity.
It just so happened that Paul and his team were in the streets when this girl spotted them and began to “cry out” after them (Acts 16:17). The evil spirit inside of her recognized Paul and Silas as “servants of the Most High God,” causing her to shriek this news in every thoroughfare. After several days of this, the barrage of attention soon turned into harassment, so much so that Paul became “greatly annoyed, turned and said to the spirit, ‘I command you in the name of Jesus Christ to come out of her’” (Acts 16:18). And just like that, the demon was cast out. The girl was free. Salvation and liberation were on full display in the middle of that Philippian intersection, as the good news of Jesus Christ poignantly and powerfully pushed back against the darkness. This was certainly cause for rejoicing — but not everyone was so inclined.
The girl’s owners, the ones exploiting her condition for their own profit, were not too happy about this turn of events (Acts 16:19). Her deliverance meant their loss. With their income stream in shambles, they did what desperate men with influence and a reputation to keep intact do: they tried to assert their influence over the situation (Acts 16:19–20). These suddenly bankrupt businessmen drag the team of missionaries into the town square and begin to hurl a series of accusations against them, among which is the claim that they are “disturbing the peace” (Acts 16:20–21). They zero in on how Paul and Silas’s preaching was upsetting the status quo within that Roman colony, conveniently leaving out anything relating to the slave girl under their charge. Apparently, the missionaries’ message about a resurrected Rabbi from Galilee was too much for Roman pluralism. “We can’t have this Jesus Cult in our town,” they exclaim, “neither can we tolerate their customs and traditions.” It is laughably ironic that the racketeers who were using a demon-possessed girl to make a profit were insisting that the preachers of the gospel of grace were “disturbing the city.”
3. Bruised backs and midnight hymns.Despite such ridiculous claims, a mob soon formed and swiftly turned on Paul and Silas (Acts 16:22–24). This wasn’t how Roman jurisprudence usually worked, but as the mob stripped the clothes off the backs of Jesus’s preachers, due process was thrown out the window, especially as the whole crowd started laying into them with rods. (When Luke says they “inflicted many blows on them,” the gist is that the beatings were so fast and fierce that he eventually lost count.) With welts, bruises, and lacerations covering their bodies, Paul and Silas are punished even further by being thrown into a dungeon with their feet fastened in stocks. Yet again, another obstacle had arisen to hinder any advancement of the gospel of Christ.
While we can’t know what Paul and the rest of his crew were thinking, it would’ve been difficult not to focus on all of the ways they had been mistreated up to that point. Despite the litany of reasons to throw in the towel, they instead turn their cell into a sanctuary. “About midnight,” Luke records, “Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them” (Acts 16:25). With splinters and sores littering their bodies, those two missionaries exhibit one of the most striking testimonies of faith under duress. Luke’s comment that they were singing “about midnight” is both literal and metaphorical. Yes, at 12 a.m., that prison was privy to the echoes of off-key voices singing a variety of “psalms and hymns, and spiritual songs.” But they were also singing at “the midnight of the soul,” that is, the darkest hour of life.
They were still praying, trusting, and hoping. Why? Because they knew who was with them and who was for them: the risen Christ.
It would be difficult to imagine a series of darker circumstances than what these men endured. Not only were they in unfamiliar territory, where physical and spiritual hostility ran rampant, but now they also had the agents of Rome and hell marshaled against them. Evil appeared to be getting the better of them, leaving the mission to bring the gospel to Macedonia hanging by a thread.
And yet, they were singing.
Despite their suffering and “shameful treatment,” as Paul would later remember it (1 Thess. 2:2), they were rejoicing. They were, as James writes, counting it all joy even though they were [enduring] “trials of various kinds” (James 1:2–4). When Paul writes about the hope that allows him to endure suffering and sorrow (Rom. 5:3–5), he writes from firsthand experience. They were still praying, trusting, and hoping. Why? Because they knew who was with them and who was for them: the risen Christ.
4. The earthquake gospel and the dawn of grace.This point comes to the fore in the ensuing scene, where God lets it be known that not even nature is more powerful than he is (Acts 16:25–27). With a flick of his finger, an earthquake powerful enough to open prison doors yet gentle enough to leave everyone alive afflicts the city. The sight of prison doors loosed from their hinges and the sound of chains rattling against stone walls was enough for the warden to assume the worst. But rather than face the Roman higher-ups, he opts to take his own life, which might tell you something about the fate that awaited him back at headquarters.
But before the warden could go through with it, Paul spoke up to stop him. “Do not harm yourself,” he reassures him, “for we are all here” (Acts 16:28). Not a soul had left. Everyone was present and accounted for, leaving the warden, the guards, and the other convicts in a state of shock. Amid all the frenzy, though, Paul begins to preach the gospel: “Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved,” he declares to the warden (Acts 16:31). An effect of the gospel is that it gives you the grace to show grace even to the one who beat you and threw you in prison. The gospel gives you hope that remains sure and steadfast (Heb. 6:19) through the severest obstacles and the deepest suffering. It fills you with a faith that sings even at midnight because it tells you about the Christ of God who has already gone into the midnight of death for us, and risen with the morning of his resurrection.
The word of the gospel assures us that no matter what obstacle or adversity threatens to do us in, whether it be the principalities of hell, the powers of Rome, or the perplexities of life itself, the name of Jesus stands above them all.
The gospel of God is the announcement that God is at work, even in death. There was no greater obstacle to hope than the sight of Jesus Christ nailed to a Roman cross. His mutilated body hanging lifelessly on a cross for the world to see isn’t exactly an image that inspires much in the way of confidence or certainty about the future. This is why Good Friday is better known as Black Friday. The original “Black Friday” had nothing to do with mobs of consumers fighting each other over a discounted flat-screen TV at Best Buy. It had everything to do with the death of the Son of God, culminating in the darkest afternoon in the history of the world. But even that darkness didn’t last forever; even that midnight gave way to the morning. After all, three days later, Christ rose from the dead and triumphantly marched out of the grave. Not even the obstacle of Jesus’s death can derail what God has promised.
The hope, joy, and peace that filled the songs of Paul and Silas were downstream of the good news that “it was not possible” for Christ “to be held” down by death (Acts 2:24). There is no obstacle on this side of eternity that is more powerful than the good news that Jesus is risen. Principalities are spoiled, powers are put in their place, and perplexities are resolved by the name of Jesus, who conquers all, even “the last enemy,” Death itself (1 Cor. 15:26). The word of the gospel, therefore, assures us that no matter what obstacle or adversity threatens to do us in, whether it be the principalities of hell, the powers of Rome, or the perplexities of life itself, the name of Jesus stands above them all. God’s Word cannot and will not fail. Thus, the church can go on singing.
