Why You Can Sing in Midnight Misery

It says they were singing hymns. Now there's a word for psalms. You read it in Ephesians. Psalms, hymns, spiritual songs. And we know what psalms are. They're not singing psalms. They're singing hymns. Somebody wrote them besides David. Who wrote them? I don't know who wrote them. Paul probably wrote them. Silas was the musician, maybe. But here's the amazing thing. They knew him by heart. The greatest men in the world are singing men. I mean, can you see them walking from city to city, arm in arm, ready to go to jail, singing all the way? How else would they know them? This is amazing. It's midnight, sleepless, beaten with rods, feet in stocks, dark in the prison, and they're singing. And I want to know, how can you do that? What is this power that I so long for more? That's my question. Four times in the book of Acts, Paul puts in one sentence why he winds up on trial and in prison over and over and over. And I'll read them to you. Before the Jews in Jerusalem, Acts 23, it is for the hope of the resurrection of the dead that I am on trial. Before Felix in Caesarea, it is with respect to the resurrection of the dead that I am on trial before you this day. Before King Agrippa, why is it thought incredible by any of you that God raises the dead? Before the Jews in Rome at the very end of his life, it is because of the hope of Israel that I am wearing this chain. The resurrection of Christ and the resurrection of all who are in Christ was the sustaining power of Paul's song in suffering and love for the jailer. I say love for the jailer. Why do I say that? You know, don't you, that when they were singing at midnight, there was an earthquake. You got to be careful what might happen if you sing with a friend at midnight in misery. Are you afraid to go there? It's midnight. He just called. He's in desperate need. Let's go sing. When the earthquake happened, all the doors were open. All the stocks came off. The jailer is about to kill himself, and they could have said, make my day. Watch him kill himself and head for Thessalonica. Triumphant! God released us, and that's not what they did. They saved him. They saved his life. They saved his soul, and they welcomed this perhaps most undeserving man in Philippi into their eternal family. So I'm going to say singing in the jail, loving the jailer, is the power of the resurrection fruit. That's what I want. I hope that's what all of Nashville wants. It's a really religious city, you know? Probably pagan to the core underneath, but religion in the Bible belt. But a lot of grumbling goes on here, and of course all you people watching are just as bad. It's not about Nashville. It's about human nature. It's about Piper after being a Christian for 64 years. No, 67 years. So how does that work? What does it look like, Paul? We want this. We want to sing at midnight after being beaten in jail with our feet in the stalks when we can't sleep. We want this. This is Christianity. This is not weird. It's weird to murmur if you're a Christian. Here's the way Paul put it twice. I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing to the glory that will be revealed. Romans 8, 18. Or 2 Corinthians 4, 17. For this light momentary affliction, light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison.