June 1, 2025
I speak to you in the name of God – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
This morning in our reading from Acts, the jailer asks Paul and Silas one of the most profound questions in Scripture: “What must I do to be saved?” “What must I do to be saved?” It’s a question that doesn’t land well for many of us – maybe all of us. If we think about being “saved” as punching our ticket to heaven, then we might struggle to reconcile our understanding of God as a God of Love with a God who might exclude some people from the Divine presence.
And while there’s plenty to be said on that, I wonder if this question doesn’t hit us in a more personal way. I wonder if it doesn’t hit the darkest parts of ourselves – the parts we try to hide from other people, and from ourselves. The parts of us that say “I’m not enough.” “I’m not good enough to be saved.” “I don’t pray enough to be saved.” I don’t know God or the Bible or theology enough to be saved.” “I don’t do enough to be saved.” And the big reasons those are frightening questions is because they put so much of the work of salvation on us.
So I think we need to take the context of the jailer’s question seriously. Because it hasn’t come out of the blue. This earthquake that has shaken the foundations of the prison and opened the doors to the cells and unfastened the chains of the prisoners is not just an earthquake. The jailer – along with Paul and Silas and the prisoners – have witnessed first-hand God’s overwhelming power. Power to overturn the foundations of empire and oppression. Power to free us from whatever it is that holds us captive, or shackles us, or has power over us. And when we encounter that power, our initial response – like that of the jailer – is fear and despair. Because we know we’ve reached the boundary of our ability to shape the world.
Paul’s answer to the jailer’s question is simple. “Believe on the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved.” And then he “spoke the word of the Lord to the jailer and all who were in his house.” In other words, they proclaimed the Good News. The Good News that with the through the Spirit the death and despair that rule the present age can be overcome through a life lived according to love of God and neighbor. The Good News that through Jesus, God has reconciled the world to himself in a way we could never do, and as a result of this radical grace anyone can be in right relationship with God.
In proclaiming this Good News to the jailer and his household, Paul gives them an invitation to look beyond what can be seen and heard and felt and smelled and touched. It’s an invitation that comes down the centuries to us, too. An invitation to see the universe not only in terms of atoms and scientific proofs and things that can be measured, but to see ourselves and others and all of creation as actors in a much bigger story. A theological story, in which God is acting and Jesus is saving. A story of God’s overwhelming power.
And maybe that’s a hard story for some of us to hear. For those of us who are used to being “in charge”. If we think the answer to the jailer’s question is a carefully-thought-out strategic plan or the latest and greatest self-improvement fad, then Paul’s answer will seem totally inadequate. In fact, we might find this entire story laughable. Because Paul’s answer to the question “what must I do to be saved?” – that we trust that Jesus Christ has done everything necessary to save us – and that there is nothing we need to do except to believe – flies in the face of everything we’re taught. That we’re in charge of our own destiny. That everything is up to us.
So I’m here to tell you today that being saved is not a program of self-improvement. We are claimed in baptism by the awesome saving power of Jesus. But believing in the Lord Jesus is not just some passive acceptance of a intellectual idea. Believing in Jesus – believing in Jesus’ power to save us – means tuning into that bigger theological story that is going on all around us. It means becoming decisively aware that our small lives are being swept up into the great drama that Scripture lays out for us of humans failing over and over again to live up to the standard God sets for us, and of divine redemption for each and every failure. Because God loves you with wild and reckless abandon. You are good enough.
So what does this mean for us? I want us to notice what the jailer does at the end of this story. Because he models for us the way to respond to God’s gift of grace. Instead of striving to meet expectations, the jailer allows himself to be drawn more fully into the Christian community’s life with God. He responds to God’s grace by taking his first steps into formation, listening to the word of the Lord. He responds to God’s grace by participating in the sacraments – by being baptised. And he responds to God’s grace by entering more deeply into fellowship through the sharing of a meal.
My friends, this story invites us to set down the work of salvation. Jesus has already done everything that needs to be done. Instead, our calling is to surrender back to God the power we falsely claim to have. Our calling is to follow through on our belief in Jesus by allowing our encounters with Scripture and sacrament and fellowship to form us more deeply as disciples. Our calling is to open ourselves to the God of Reconciliation’s power to transform and redeem us in ways we can never accomplish for ourselves. Amen.