Seventh Sunday of Easter

Readings: Acts 16. 16-34; Psalm 97; Revelation 22. 12-14, 16, 17, 20, 21; John 17. 20-26 (view all)

One of the delights of Easter season each year is that every Sunday we have a passage from the Book of Acts highlighted to us, culminating next Sunday with the account of the arrival of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost.

But in our penultimate episode from Acts today, we hear about Paul and Silas, who bring freedom to an unnamed slave girl from spiritual possession, and yet, as a consequence, find themselves in a very physical captivity, as they are thrown into jail overnight. 

An experience, which will always stick with me, was a couple of year’s ago on holiday when we visited Lincoln and went around the Victorian prison in Lincoln castle. Now a museum, the prison was designed for ‘the separate system’ — a Victorian project whose goal was to prevent the prisoners from being able to ‘corrupt’ each other by keeping them entirely isolated from one another at all times.

What made such a stark impact on me — and this was so strong that I would even describe it as a spiritually negative experience — was seeing the prison chapel. 

This was a space where the prisoners were to pray and to hear the word of God, presumably in the hope that something of God’s incredible love and grace would permeate their souls, and enable them to acknowledge their sin and receive God’s forgiveness. And yet, what had been created was a space which was severe, oppressive and dehumanising — where each prisoner would be escorted to an individual booth, separated off by wooden barriers from every other prisoner, with only a small slot through which they could look and see the pulpit rising high above them. 

What struck me so terribly was the contrast between a faith I hold dearly to be redeeming, hope-filled and life-giving, and a chapel, a place of worship, which felt oppressive, not just physically but spiritually.

It was then I realised, more than ever, that to be held captive is so much more than being physically confined — but about being held in emotional and even spiritual captivity as well. 

In our world today, we can find ourselves held captive, enslaved, in so many ways. From corrupt systems of power — sweat shops, zero hour contracts, an unloving benefit system, even modern-day slavery. To unhealthy relationships — whether because of the manipulative actions of others, or because of our own resentment and attitudes. To ways in which we can make ourselves captive through addiction, whether that’s to a physical substance like drugs or alcohol, or an emotional need to be successful or popular. 

And yet our faith is about freedom! About Jesus Christ the Liberator who came to bring freedom from sin and death, who comes to free us from everything which might enslave us, who we see in the book of Revelation will come in glory to establish his kingdom of peace for ever.  The same Jesus Christ, who works through Paul and Silas and Luke, and the many other early followers of Jesus, in the book of Acts to change the lives of those they encounter. 

So, what does it mean to be set free? Why is it that in our time we still find ourselves enslaved in so many ways? And how can the chains which bind us today be worked loose, and their hold on us broken? 

This passage from Acts presents us with two stories — one or both of which you may well have heard separately before, but which, when they appear together, provoke a really interesting reflection on captivity and freedom.

When the slave girl is healed by Paul she is liberated in one very important way — she is now spiritually free from the demon which had possessed her. And yet she is still caught up in a societal system, supported by those in power, which her held her captive, exploited her for profit, and now has no use for her.

We are not told what happens to her in the end. We could be optimistic and hope that she was freed, able to find her way into