O For
a Thousand Tongues to Sing
a sermon based on Acts 16:16-34
by Rev. Randy Quinn
There
were times when being in school felt like being in prison to me. I
remember making that observation while I was a student at Glenn
Hammond Curtiss Junior High School in Carson, California. Part of the
reason was the school itself.
It was a brand-new
school the first year I was there. No one had ever used the locker I
was assigned before I used it. No one else had sat in the chairs I
sat in. No one else had opened the books I read before.
On the one hand, it was
exciting to be a student in a brand-new school; on the other hand, the
architecture was reminiscent of a prison.
It was built on two
floors with classroom wings built in a square around an open “quad.”
The classroom windows on the exterior of the building were high and
narrow, so we could see nothing outside except the sky. At each
corner of the building there were stairwells protruding from the
building that from a distance looked very much like guard towers. It
had a stucco exterior that was painted a brownish gray.
It looked like a
prison. We all could see that. And when I drove by it a few years
ago, it still looked like a prison.
And for some students it
was just that. A prison.
For others, it felt like
it on occasion, but for the most part my friends and I simply joked
about the ‘prison-like’ atmosphere. For us, the school provided a
place in which our minds were expanded as we heard about and read
about and talked about new ideas and learned the essential elements of
the American educational system.
Your experience of
school may not have included the visual effects of a prison. Today’s
teachers and students may or may feel as if the WASL’s are simply a
variation of the stocks and shackles used in years past. But you
probably can see how some people might experience it that way.
The truth is that some
people find their work to be a prison, too. They may not have bars on
the doors and windows, but there is a sense that they cannot escape.
They find work just to pay the bills rather than finding and following
a vocation, a place where their God-given talents can be used to honor
God.
Paul found himself in a
real prison. His hands and feet were in real shackles. And unlike
prisoners in our modern jails, Paul and Silas had no privacy, no TV,
no exercise yard, and no visitors. It was just a dark, damp,
cave-like building where prisoners were locked up for a variety of
crimes.
Paul’s response to being
in prison, however, made it less like a prison and more like a
church. Paul was in prison for preaching and in prison he continued
preaching. (He literally had a “captive audience.”
J The only thing missing
was an offering plate! J)
Paul had a clear sense of his vocation and he was not going to be
deterred from serving and honoring God. He prayed and he sang. He
found reasons to celebrate what God was doing – even in the most
miserable of circumstances.
Charles Wesley, the
author of today’s hymn, found himself visiting prisoners in English
jails in the 18th Century. They were not much better than
the one Paul occupied, but Charles knew he needed to visit those in
prison as an expression of his faith (Mt 25:39).
But Charles didn’t think
his words would have any meaning to the prisoners if he stood outside
the cells and spoke to them. So on more than one occasion, Charles
Wesley asked the jailors to lock him inside the prison over night. He
wanted those in prison to know they were not alone.
Not only was Charles
there, he was a representative of the church so the church was there.
He was also a representative of God, so he could tell them in all
honesty that God was present, too.
Some people today are
imprisoned by financial pressures. Others are imprisoned by family
constraints. Some people are trapped in emotional shackles while
others are trapped in the dungeons of despair.
No matter what your own
prison may look like, no matter who put the shackles on your hands and
feet, Charles Wesley’s example is a reminder that God has not
abandoned you.
And in fact, God’s mere
presence with you is reason enough to sing, to use your tongue and to
offer praise, to stand up and leap for joy because God is here.
When Paul did that, the
prison doors swung open wide. The other prisoners were set free and
the even the jailor experienced God’s grace.
The same thing happens
in the lives of those who know their own vocation and follow that
call. It is freeing, it is life giving, and it affects the lives of
those around us. To the graduates, I say find your vocation and
follow your call. We will all be richer if and when you do.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.