Translated From the Italian of J. N. D

The motives were purely human, the influence, that or satin. The motives presented to the magistrates were nothing but false pretexts. They worked on the pride and the fear of the authorities, who desired peace, and that was disturbed by tile enemies, not by the Christians; besides the Gospel did not oppose Roman dignity which possessed the city, it being a colony. The magistrates ask no more; they had stirred up a multitude which strove for its privileges. Rending their clothes, they command them to be beaten, and then send them to prison, charging the jailor to keep them safely. He, having received such a charge, thrusts them into the inner prison, making their feet fast in the stocks.
All then was tranquillized; but the magistrates thought nothing of justice, nor of paying costs* for poor evangelists. But God has not forgotten them, and bears marked testimony to His servants. He permits them to be punished unjustly, and it is their glory to make no resistance. It is a means by which still brighter testimony may be given to His word, and to His servants.
They are thrust then into the inner prison, and there sing praises to God, and the prisoners hear them. Suddenly there is a great earthquake, the doors of the prison are opened, and every one’s bands are loosed. God intervenes for His own, and to bear testimony to His word. When persecution is allowed, the wickedness of man can do much, but he cannot hold against the power of God, those who fall into his hands. The jailor wishes to kill himself; but. Paul crying out that they were all there, prevents him from doing so. Leading out Paul and Silas, he asks them what he must do to be saved. The answer is simple, “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved, and thy house.” The word is then announced to him and his, and he is baptized with his house. He then cares for his prisoners, and washed their stripes, being filled with joy and peace, with all his house.
Tranquility restored, the magistrates, believing that all trouble is thus ended, send word to the jailor to let Paul and Silas go. But it was a struggle between the testimony of God and the power of satan; it, was necessary that the unjust magistrates should own their fault, and the rights of the Gospel of God. Paul did not wish to excite this struggle, (an important warning to us!) but to continue his work peacefully. The devil was seeking to mix himself up with the works to associate himself, to the eyes of the world, with what was done by the servants of God. This provoked the Apostle. It was necessary either to receive the testimony of the devil, and join his name to that of Christ, or to enter into a struggle. He casts out, therefore, the unclean spirit—and open war is thus at once declared.
Satan is the prince of this world; and the world, stirred up by the present power of God in the work of the Spirit, is, unless kept down by God, stronger than His servants. Here God permits the world to manifest itself in violence and injustice, in the multitude as much as in the magistrates. The servants of God submit to this injustice, are beaten, and cast into prison, their enemies being the guilty ones, as is nearly always the case. I say nearly, because it is possible for Christians to fail in wisdom, and to provoke a struggle without cause. They do not resist; but here the power of the Holy Ghost and the state of their souls show complete superiority to circumstances. Full of joy in prison and in the stocks, they can sing praises. Testimony is rendered even to the prisoners. As far as the body is concerned, the world is stronger than the Christian, if God allows it to act; but in soul, the Christian is always above circumstances, if he can realize the presence of God. His presence is the greatest of all circumstances, and overcomes the others. One can rejoice even in sufferings, as we see in Acts 5:41; Rom. 5:3.
Moreover, God makes use of the circumstances, and enters, so to speak, into the struggle Himself; the doors are opened, the bands are loosed. In body, man is powerless, unless God see fit to intervene; and often He does so by His providence, if not in a miraculous way. All were witnesses or convinced that God was victorious in the struggle—though same, in spite of themselves. The magistrates had taken part in the wrong with great injustice, and it was necessary, therefore, that they should own their fault. Now that all was calm, they sought, 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.
Paul and Silas were in prison against all the rights of God and of men; and the magistrates are obliged by the firmness of Paul, to own their fault, and to ask the servants of the Lord as a favor to depart. This, as it suited them, they do without delay; only, being perfectly free, they enter into the house of Lydia, see the brethren, comfort them, and depart.
When Paul sought to make use of his rights as a, Roman in order to arrest injustice, he lost his liberty, and was sent, a prisoner to Rome, although the Lord had directed everything. But here he did not attempt to arrest injustice; he submitted, only taking advantage of this right afterward, when it was a question of the innocence of the Gospel, and of its conduct, and when it happened that the magistrates, and not he, were in the wrong.
The Sphere of Christ’s Power.
Beloved friends, let us at the outset be clear as to our acceptance; for how can I ask anyone to be acceptable to God if acceptance is not known? If you say, “I do not know acceptance yet,” I cannot ask you to be acceptable.
Here is a number of disorderly children going about breaking the panes outside. What is to be done? The owner of the house takes them in and makes them his own—adopts them. Now they are children of the house. You may say they will break the panes inside. Perhaps they may, but they are children now. They are accepted, if not acceptable. They are children. I must get that clear, If I get a child breaking the panes I cannot excuse it—in fact, I make it to be a greater fault because he is a child in the house, and I cannot allow it, or go on with him. If the child will do badly inside the house, he will get a far more severe dealing with, in divine chastisement, than the one outside. And depend upon it, there is no question about it, if you as a child do evil things inside, God will not overlook it, but will deal with you. As He said to Israel, “You only have I known of all the families of the earth: therefore I will punish you for your iniquities.” They were as children inside, on the ground of children.
I must dwell upon the fact of your acceptance first. You may be a child, and not like a child. I admit it. My child goes down into a coal-cellar and blackens his clothes—defiles himself. But he is my child still, though a dirty one. So with God’s children. To say otherwise is to deny the new creation. That is why I am so strong about it. I cannot go outside the fact of what God has done. You are my children now, therefore, “Have grace to serve God acceptably with reverence and godly fear, for our God is a consuming fire.”
I am often obliged to bring up the question of acceptance, for many people raise it. They talk of doing something to please God, and yet they have not found out where God has placed them; Someone has said, and most truly, “Christ has placed us in the presence of God in the beauty of His own person, and what we have to do is to be in the beauty of Christ before the world.” That is the whole of Christianity. Christ places us in the beauty of Himself before the Father, and now we are to be in the beauty of Christ before the world. And that is where the rub comes. That is the acceptability.
Faith is the thing that comes out in this case. Faith is simply this: I have turned away from myself, and turned to God. It is like a man standing on a wreck with the water rising around him. If he stayed there he would die, and hence he goes from there to the dry land, or to a boat. That is faith. He abandoned the thing that was no good, in order to get unto one that was really safe. That is what Christ is. You get this in the thief on the cross, — “This man has done nothing amiss.” Look at that. There is something for us to learn. The moment faith comes in, prayer flows out. See how God proves to Ananias that Saul had faith, He did not give him a full account of the mode of his conversion, but, “Behold he prayeth.” He is dependent on God now.
But I do not dwell any longer upon that, further than to say, I never can lose the acceptance which my Father’s love has brought me into through His Son. I am in all the beauty of Christ before Him. If you have soiled your garments, you will have to judge yourself, and sorrow and repentance must follow. And when this is the case, I see my sins and follies put away in the cross. I have judged them in the death of Christ. Otherwise, God comes in and judges you in that very body in which you have gone on trifling with Him. If you have gone down into the coal cellar, and soiled your clothes, He will make you strip these clothes off, and perhaps make that very act the sorrow of your whole life. For you see, “God is not mocked.” Do not imagine such a thing. He is perfect love; but also perfect holiness. “He that soweth to his flesh, shall of the flesh reap corruption.” That belongs to the other point more especially, namely, acceptability. That is another thing. To walk with God, I am to be acceptable to Him. Born of God by the Spirit of God—the ground of a new creature—what a wonderful creation we are in Christ! I cannot let that go. I am a child, and He has given the Spirit into our hearts whereby we cry “Abba, Father.” The Christian is a wonderful creation! an incomparable creation? I cannot explain it: but it is an incomparably greater creation than the old! I am a new creation in the old, and the point is that this new creation, which is Christ, should be seen in the old, and in the sphere of the old creation. So that this body, instead of being a hindrance to the setting forth the grace of Christ, should actually be the vessel in which it is displayed. You say I have a weakly body, and have no means of doing it. But what does the Lord say to the palsied man? “Take up thy bed and walk.” Now comes out the body as the sphere for the divine work. He has to show the work of Christ in him. “Take up thy bed and walk, and go to thine house.” If you cannot walk in grace where you are well known, you cannot where you are little known. “Take up thy bed, and go thy way into thine house,” and the people marvel, and they say, “We never saw it on this fashion.” Let me explain. It had not been seen in that fashion before. There was a certain virtue exhibited in the Old Testament—a certain religious thing set forth, but little power. That the body should be the sphere of divine power was quite a new thing connected with Christianity. I think we have lost sight of much, very much of this important subject. I do not say we are looking to be perfect. The body was the place where the judgment of God lay. The moment Adam sinned, and heard the voice of the Lord walking in the garden, he hid himself—he sought to hide his body from the Lord. The Lord says to him, “Hast thou eaten of the tree whereof I commanded thee that thou shouldst not eat?” He said, “I was afraid because I was naked.” He knew judgment was upon him. The apostle sees the resurrection body, and writes of it to the Corinthians. He saw what was at the bottom of the Corinthian’s error. They said we have Christ, let the body go. Thus we see the heresy underlying all. They said they never would see the body again. On the contrary, says the apostle, in 2 Cor. 5:9, “Wherefore we labor, that, whether present or absent, we may be accepted of Him.” The word translated accepted should be acceptable. We are accepted. It is not our works that make us accepted, but Christ. My works will determine my relationship to Christ in the kingdom. We have lost too much of the doctrine of the body in this sense. We are to be acceptable to Him. Why? The next verse tells us. “For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ; that everyone may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad.” The Corinthians said the body was nothing. No, says the apostle, every good thing you have done in your body will be brought up before the judgment seat of Christ. A Christian is like the pear tree. There may be plenty of blossom, but all may not produce fruit. Every blossom that dies away producing no fruit will be lost, but every ripe pear will be reproduced there. That will be your qualification for your relationship to Christ at that time. Not your works to get into glory. You will be there, and in a glorified body. But the Spirit of God will bring out everything you have done for Christ upon this earth. It will be the white linen which, as we read in Rev. 19, is the righteousnesses of saints, not the righteousness. You will be decorated, ornamented with everything that Christ has brought out in this poor body. What a wonderful thing! It really astounds me at times to think that this poor body that satan run riot in—that satan has had his way in—that the weeds have grown in, and which has suffered the ills that flesh is heir to—to think that Christ should come and say, I must have that body now to be the garden where the beauty and grace of myself can be exemplified Can anything be more wonderful? I do not want that now to be my serving but Christ’s. Now let me show you how this is accomplished. We carry about this treasure in earthen vessels. We have the new creation. I cannot give it out. But “it is not I but Christ that dwelleth in me.” “If any man be in Christ he is a new creation.” Scripture goes even further than this, and says, “Old things are passed away, behold, all things are become new.” We are in the old creation, and here is the difficulty. If we were in the new body there would be no difficulty in setting it forth, but I am called to this now when the power of Christ comes upon my body. Know ye not that your body itself is to be made the very vessel, vehicle, instrument for setting forth my beauty. Here is the palsied man, and to the astonishment of everybody around, carrying his bed. That is the last thing you would have thought he would carry, or the last thing he would be ready to carry, because it was what his former state required. As you all know his infirmity required it. I cannot say what one’s infirmities may require, but when Christ comes in, the thing of all others you would be most likely to retain is the first. He will tell you to give up. How can I give it up, you say? Nevertheless, that is the very thing you will have to give up. That is the very thing in which Christ will show his power. There are infirm people that cannot do without certain comforts. I am not saying a word about them, but I am saying that what Christ demands wherever He dwells, is, that if there is anything that hinders, it must be given up when He would display His own power. And so you will find you cannot say you have not got power from Christ. And the thing you think perhaps most unlikely to hinder the expression of Christ is the very thing to give up. Here it was positive infirmity, and what Christ wants to set forth is His power, and it cannot be so seen while a bit of the things that would hinder the setting forth of His power shall be left. The Lord is the only one who can judge this matter aright, and while he may keep one in health, He may see it necessary to retain the infirmities of another.
There are two things to notice with reference to the sphere of Christ’s power, the body. One is the weakness of the body, and the other the wickedness of the flesh; and the Lord deals with them differently. In the case of weakness He gives present power. The very weakness thus becomes the theater for the expression of His power. People say I could not do this or that—I could not give up this or that. That is because they do not understand His power. Suppose I tell a person that he ought to give up painting, or music, as a snare to him. Oh, he says, I cannot, I have been used to it all my life. I could not give it up. Well, I tell you that when Christ’s power comes in that is the first thing you will give up. It is not a question of being a child of God. You are a child, but you want power. You are a powerless child. The palsied man was forgiven before he carried his bed, and when he carried it, it was not by virtue of the power for him, but by the power in him. He can now do the thing that will please the Lord.
When the apostle comes down from the third heaven, he has to complain of a thorn in the flesh. Well, the Lord does not take away the thorn, but says, “My grace is sufficient for thee, for my strength is made perfect in weakness.” Then says the apostle, “I take pleasure in infirmities, for when I am weak, then am I strong.” The moment I see I have nothing but Christ’s power, Christ’s power actually comes in, and makes good the weakness. Suppose it is the case of a timid person. Timidity is weakness. Bad temper is wickedness. What is done with the former? The Lord may make that timid person even more useful than the courageous one. If the courageous person trusts in his own courage he will do mischief. What does courage do for Peter? He smites with the sword when he should have been quiet, and quails with fear when he should have been bold.
But what I want to instruct you in is this. There is nothing whatever in you that is impossible to give up. You say you could not give up this or that, and the moment you say so, you are refusing power. But there is no good in power unless it act where required.
Suppose I have a toothache, and you give me medicine for a headache, it is no good to me. It is the toothache I want cured. I want power to be applied where the power is needed, and the want is. I must have it where the want is. Suppose you offer a hungry man a coat, you have not met his case at all. He wants food, and you offer him a coat. It is not the action suited to him.
There is weakness—constitutional weakness. God does not alter that. He does not make a timid person courageous, but he uses the timidity for the occasion of the display of His power. His grace is sufficient for you. He does not take away the thorn. The weakness continues, but there is grace to support him in the weakness. There is no excuse for it. Suppose a person says it is my besetting sin; well, there is no excuse for indulgence in it in any way. You say I have always had a taste for painting, or a great fondness for music—I say, when power works in you, that is the very first thing you will have to give up. That is the place where the defect is, and it must be worked where the defect is. Christ’s ministry is always directed to the defect. If He washes your feet, where does He wash them? Where they need it. This is the peculiar character of Christ’s ministry. The moment I have a defect He comes in. I learn my besetting sin from the Lord’s word applied to my soul, and I learn it from the Father’s chastening. He keeps His eye on our defects. Just like a man going on the water in a boat with a hole in the bottom. He has carefully plugged it before starting, but watch his eye while on the trip, and you will see it rests upon that spot. And you will find if you have any particular defect, the Lord’s eye is upon you there, and that is the safest bit of you; for He does not allow it.
Suppose it is the case of a person with a bad temper, and he says, what shall I do with it? I say all your prayers and watchings will never give you a good one. You have not got power. You are not out of the seventh Romans yet. If I am in the seventh Romans, I can do nothing. I cannot do a right thing. I have not a particle of power. Trying to repress your bad temper does not give you a good one. If repressed it would not be a good one, but only a bad temper repressed. The repression of a vice is never the implantation of a virtue. It is the principle on which all reformation is based. But suppose I pluck up every weed in the garden and plant nothing in it—what sort of a garden is it? I have nothing in it. True, there are no weeds there, but there is nothing else. I like to have something in lily garden. If not, what is the use of it? Is Christ in the garden? That is the thing. Are you cultivating Christ? Everything that is not Christ is a weed. Christ is the One to be there. It is not merely repression we want. Teetotalers I know argue thus. Is it not right for a man to be sober? Certainly, but if you repress this act of drinking, you have not given the taste for sobriety. You may repress the vice, but you have not given a virtue. I insist upon it—the Spirit of God does not pluck out the weed only, but plants a flower in the place of the weed—plants the new thing there. He says, “I beseech you by the meekness and gentleness of Christ.” A new plant is now in the garden. That is the way you will always know the Spirit of God is at work. You can repress, but you cannot create. It is the principle of all reformation. Just like Methodism. All you get is the weeds out of the garden. But you want something in the garden. The Apostle says, “I know that in me—that is, in my flesh dwelleth no good thing.” But Christ dwelleth in me. I have now something in the garden, and I am cultivating that; and now there is this important difference also. I was cultivating a weed, now I cultivate Christ. “He that has suffered in the flesh has ceased from sin.” Like a child I used to like to take that lump of sugar and hide it, but now I turn from it. I have “suffered in the flesh”—I have “ceased from sin.” Instead of taking pleasure in the lump of sugar, it fills me with disgust.
I will give you one or two examples to show how the Lord works. He sees the defect; and the great principle here is, the Lord can exemplify His power in you in spite of everything quite the other way. I have gone through it myself, and know what it is. I found when I had to deal with the Lord I could not go on with it—I must give it up. If I am to go on in acceptability I must please God. God has pleased Himself about me, and now I am to please Him. The principle is this. God takes the actual defect, and turns it about to His own use. Thus we sometimes see a young man who, when in the world, was ambitious and anxious to get on in the world, when he becomes a Christian is humble, the very opposite of what he was. He finds there is no place for it here. God cannot have it; and so he turns about in the very opposite direction. The Lord appropriates all he has, whether of muscular or mental power, and uses it accordingly.
For example, Moses was a man of muscular strength, and when he first commences the work of delivering his people, he knocks a man down. It was nothing to him to do that. But by and by the Lord comes and says that is not the way you are to work for Me—you are to work with a rod. After 39 years the propensity shows itself again. He smote the rock twice, and was not, in consequence, allowed to go into the land. So much for going back to old powers. God does not allow these things to come out. You must work in another way. It is not a question of who is the strong man in mind or body. The moment you attempt to do God’s work with it you fail. Moses spake unadvisedly with his lips.
But another thing is, where there is a defect there comes out the opportunity for the exhibition of God’s grace. We have an illustration of this in the way pearls are formed. The little bits of grit introduced under the oyster shell, though troubling to the oyster, become in time the beautiful mother-of-pearl. Practically speaking, so God does in us. A bad temper may become a pearl. Let me give you Scripture for it. Turn to Eph. 4:28. Here it is a defect, not weakness, and He transforms the defect and puts a virtue in its place. “Let him that stole steal no more.” Stop the defect. People talk about law-keeping. Well, if a Christian is not up to the law, he is an uncommon bad one. He has not come to the right expression of power yet. But this is the negative—only repression—you are not come to Christ yet. Of course you keep the law; but that is a low standard. You are to be like Christ. He is to be your standard. I never judge myself by the law. I judge myself by the standard of Christ. It is not a question whether I am honest, but is that the manner of Christ. Suppose you visited some sick person today. Did you go in like Christ? You were going to do some good—you positively spoiled it. You studied to do something instead of to be as Christ.
“Let him that stole steal no more” is the law. Read the next clause. “But rather let him labor”—with the very hands that used to steal. How beautifully Scripture puts it. “But rather let him labor, working with his hands the thing that is good.” Not the bad. Honest labor, what for? “That he may have to give to him that needeth.” The stealer is to be a giver. “Working with his hands,” not to amass a fortunes but that he may have to give. That man is now known as a giver, and grace has done it all. All this grace brought out—accepted forever, and now acceptable here upon earth. Setting forth not only legal righteousness, but Christ. Thus, see what grace can bring about. Power to work in a person that his own hands become the actual expression of divine, power, the power of Christ in him causing him to act like Christ. The man known as a thief before is now known as a giver in the very same place; and people marvel and say, “Well, we never saw it after this fashion.”
Practically, saints ought to be known as great peculiarities. Bodies full of light. Just like an apparition. Something seen in the darkness. Something so distinct that though people might not be attracted by it, they should not be able to help noticing it. The world ought to see the saint walking in the power of Christ. Knowing what Christ has done for him, he ought to be all brightness, and joy, and rest of heart in the presence of God here upon earth, setting forth the beauty and grace of Him who has set him in all the brightness and perfection of Himself in the presence of God.