A Prisoner Set Free

A Prisoner Set Free

Ephesians 4:1-7

            We are acutely aware that our system of justice is far from perfect.  We read of prisoners who have been set free when new evidence has come to light.  Today that evidence often has to do with DNA samples that prove the convicted person could not possibly have committed the crime.  There are college classes designed to analyze this kind of forensic evidence.  Some of these classes are responsible for proving the innocence of people who were wrongly convicted of serious crimes.  We rejoice when someone is proven innocent and released, convinced that even though justice was delayed, in the end it was not denied.

            Paul begins the fourth chapter of his epistle to Ephesians by identifying himself as “a prisoner for the Lord.”  He doesn’t claim to be innocent, and isn’t trying to fight the charges against him—nor is anyone else taking up his case to try to prove he isn’t guilty.  He’s a prisoner and that’s that! 

            Of course, we know why Paul was a prisoner.  Elsewhere in his letters he calls himself “a prisoner of the gospel”—and that is a true statement on two levels.  He considers himself a slave for Christ; he has given himself willingly into that servitude.  He is Christ’s servant just as Christ was—and is—the servant of the world.  Remember how Jesus said, “If any would be great among you, that person must be a servant; and in order to be first, you must be everyone’s slave.”  Paul took that to heart.

            Paul was also a prisoner for the gospel, imprisoned because he had become a Christian and had fulfilled his calling as an apostle to the Gentiles.  As he preached and taught the gospel in cities throughout the Roman Empire he made many enemies.  His preaching eventually cost him his freedom, and finally, his life.

            Even in prison Paul continued to preach and teach.  Several of his letters were written during his imprisonment in Rome.  In the sense of being able to communicate, Paul was never a prisoner.  Today people are imprisoned to shut them up.  That certainly wasn’t the case in the first century.  Paul met regularly with visitors, and obviously had writing materials made available to him.

            Within himself, Paul was always free (remember Paul and Silas in Philippi?).  Imprisoning his body had no effect on his soul.  We can be sure that, even if he had not been able to write, or meet with his fellow Christians, Paul would not have felt like a prisoner.  He would have missed the fellowship with other believers, and he would have been sorry he could not communicate with the churches he held so dear, but his soul would have been free.

            Listen to what he says to the church at Ephesus.  He tells them to “walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love.”  This doesn’t sound like a man embittered over being in jail.  We know that, in spite of his fiery nature, Paul conducted himself as a model prisoner, exhibiting the same humility, gentleness, patience and love he urged on the Ephesians.

            Paul also establishes the unity that believers find in Christ.  Listen to the “one-ness” he describes:  one body, one Spirit, one hope, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all.  Here is where Paul finds his real freedom.  Despite his physical imprisonment, he remains one with the Ephesians—indeed, with Christians everywhere—in hope, in faith, and, most importantly, in unity with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

            So—is Paul a prisoner or not?  Despite the restrictions on his movement, his acceptance of Jesus as Lord of his life and his reliance on the power of the Holy Spirit sets him free.