Acts 16:23-34

The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with us all.

Dear Congregation,

We all know the Hymn that we often sing at funeral 'Take Thou my hand, O Father, And lead Thou me.'

Julie Hausmann wrote this song when on her arrival in Africa she found that her fiance had died of the plague. She came from Lettland and had been engaged to a young missionary pastor. She had had to get all her documents in order and would then follow her fiance to Africa. In deep distress, trapped in grief and in a world that was completely alien to her, she wrote this song.

'Tho' naught of Thy great power May move my soul, With Thee thru night and darkness I reach the goal.'

'Surrounded by such true and gentle powers'. We owe this song of consolation to Pastor Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who wrote it in prison at the turn of the year 44/45 in the last winter of the war.

'And though you offer us the cup so heavy, so painful, filled to the brim with suffering, Not faltering, with thanks we will accept it And take it as a gift from your good hand .'

'Now the heart finds itself in all that is heavy Come Savior, who gently binds us, heals our wounds, carries and cares for us.'

This was written by the poet Jochen Keppler in 1941, one year before he and his wife and daughter were killed when all attempts to save them had failed. He and his family were the victims of hatred against the Jews.

Now follows the text for today: Acts 16:23-34:

23 'And when they had laid many stripes on them, they threw them into prison, commanding the jailer to keep them securely.

24 Having received such a charge, he put them into the inner prison and fastened their feet in the stocks.

25 But at midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them.

26 Suddenly there was a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the prison were shaken; and immediately all the doors were opened and everyone’s chains were loosed.

27 Andthe keeper of the prison, awaking from sleep and seeing the prison doors open, supposing the prisoners had fled, drew his sword and was about to kill himself.

28 But Paul called with a loud voice, saying, “Do yourself no harm, for we are all here.”

29 Then he called for a light, ran in, and fell down trembling before Paul and Silas. 30 And he brought them out and said, “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?”

31 So they said, “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and you will be saved, you and your household.”

32 Then they spoke the word of the Lord to him and to all who were in his house.

33 And he took them the same hour of the night and washed their stripes. And immediately he and all his family were baptized. 34 Now when he had brought them into his house, he set food before them; and he rejoiced, having believed in God with all his household.

Songs of faith in God, songs of praise, sung in prison, have a long tradition. If you look at it from the outside, it seems strange. What is there to praise? In prison? For what can you be thankful if you can see no future?

Go on singing, praying, trusting? In the Acts of the apostles we read about people who are threatened and live in fear. David sings and plays the harp for the fearful King Saul. It is no wonder that church music plays such an important role in Christian tradition. Music is the language of God. Music touches our hearts, it comforts us when we need it and brings hope for the desperate. Music brings solutions. Music touches our hearts: Peter and Silas sing and in doing so they preserved their humanity. They preserved their humanity also against their so-called enemy: the prison warden. They could have escaped easily. But it would have costed the warden his life. That would not have mattered to Paul and Silas. Everybody would have appreciated it if they hadn't cared about the warden.

But this is the core of our life as Christians. In no situation can we 'not care about the fate ' of others.

It is reported about Bonhoeffer that he had acted as pastor to his fellow-prisoners and that he was always very friendly with his wardens.

Yes, it would often be easy to close your eyes when someone comes along who is waiting for our support. It is often much easier to become untouchable, to label the other as an opponent and enemy, and to see this as a justification for no longer treating them as human beings.

This passage from the New Testament shows that such thinking was unthinkable, at least for Peter and Silas. They cannot, on the one hand, sing hymns of praise and, on the other hand, be indifferent to the fate of others, strangers, the ones who hold them captive. Remaining compassionate toward those who hurt us. No, that definitely does not mean putting up with everything. Luke does not tell us that Peter and Silas remain imprisoned voluntarily. No, they want to be free. They do not accept that their arrest is unjust.

But they escape the "It's either me or the other, either us or them!"

The miracle Luke tells here: In the end, everyone wins. Life has turned out for the better for everyone.

True compassion and the deep insight that I, too, can only be well if the other person is also well. If the person on the other side, the opponent, is well.

This brings us to a core question of our Christian social work and our commitment to other people. Are we "just" giving alms? Is our action an action in which we are the strong and give a little to the weak – or do we recognize our own need in the need of others? Do we recognize that we are truly connected and belong together?

We heard earlier about the work at the Crysalis Baby Therapy Center and the Crysalis School.

One of the goals is to ensure that people with disabilities, even the most severe disabilities, are notlabeled as "the others"—"the others" to whom we give a little bit. No, they are our family members.

I take these two thoughts with me today:

1. The strength that comes from praise, from music, from the new song we sing – in the midst of adversity.

2. The growing insight that nothing in the world gives us a reason to elevate ourselves above others.

Therein lies the prison guard's salvation—he was perceived as a fellow human being, and now he behaves like one: What must I do to be saved? How do I escape this misery of beating people, locking them up, and mistreating them as enemies and opponents? "Believe in Jesus" is the simple answer.

Trust that the way Jesus lived is a path that leads to peace.

The jailer breathes a sigh of relief—joy returns to him. The joy of being human again.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer held on to this and lived this way until his last day. He encountered jailers who were touched by his songs and prayers, but remained imprisoned – it cost Bonhoeffer his life.

No, things don't always end well. No, it's not the case that we prevent inhumane things from happening to us by behaving humanely.

No, even with a baby therapy center and a school, we won't change the world.

Doesn't that make it worth the effort?

That would be a calculated balancing act – but when it comes to praising God and following Jesus, it's not about calculating balancing acts, but rather loving devotion.

Elsewhere in the Acts of the Apostles, it says: "We cannot do anything but tell of what we have experienced."

We become as wise as serpents and have been through all sorts of water, as baptized Christians in the world, continually striking a different tone, singing a hymn of praise to God who sets us free to become human.

And if we are fortunate, we receive the grace in suffering to realize that God takes our hands and guides us – even when we feel nothing of His power.

If we are fortunate, we receive the grace to know that in every moment of our lives we are wonderfully protected by good forces.

If we are fortunate, we receive the grace that our heart and soul know that they are preserved and protected in pain.

May the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Let us sing, we cannot help it!