Imagine being beaten, thrown into a dark, damp prison cell, your feet locked in stocks, your body aching, unable to move or find any relief. What would you do? Most of us would cry, complain, or at the very least, sit in stunned silence.
But Paul and Silas? They sang.
Acts 16 tells us that around midnight, while locked in the innermost cell of the Philippian jail, Paul and Silas were "praying and singing hymns to God, and the other prisoners were listening to them." The other prisoners were listening—not because Paul and Silas were loud, but because their response was so strange, so unexpected.
In that culture, public expressions of grief were normal and expected. No one would have judged them for wailing and lamenting. But instead, they worshiped. And not as some stoic "we're fine" performance—they genuinely had joy in the middle of their suffering.
That kind of response? It absolutely confused everyone around them. And it laid the groundwork for the Gospel to be truly heard.
Paul and Silas weren't pretending everything was okay. They were in real pain. But they had something deeper than happiness—they had joy. The kind that comes from an unshakeable confidence in Christ. The kind that transcends circumstances.
Their joy was a visible witness to how powerful the Gospel really is. It showed that the finished work of Jesus changes everything—even how we respond to injustice and pain.
When an earthquake shook the prison open and the jailer was about to take his own life (thinking all the prisoners had escaped), Paul shouted, "Don't harm yourself! We are all here!"
Think about that. The jailer had gone out of his way to make their suffering worse—placing them in the worst cell, locking them in stocks, showing them no mercy. Paul and Silas had every reason to escape and leave him to face the consequences. But they didn't.
They stayed. And they convinced the other prisoners to stay too.
That act of radical kindness—showing compassion to someone who had shown them cruelty—broke something open in the jailer's heart. He fell at their feet and asked, "What must I do to be saved?"
Here's what I love about this story: Paul and Silas didn't lead with a sermon. They led with their lives. They lived out the Gospel—joy in suffering, kindness in the face of cruelty—and that gave them credibility. That made the jailer want to listen.
Only after he saw something different in them did he ask the question. And then—then—they spoke the word of the Lord to him.
This is what we call faithful presence. It's about being somewhere regularly, living so strangely that people notice, and earning the right to be heard. It's about showing up in your neighborhood, your workplace, your gym, your kid's school—and letting the Gospel shine through the way you live.
Here are three ways to practice joy and kindness this week:
The Gospel gives us access to something the world is desperately searching for—unshakeable joy, radical kindness, and a hope that doesn't depend on our circumstances. And when we live that out, people notice.
At Indy Metro, we're learning together what it means to be faithfully present in the spaces we already inhabit. We're not perfect at it, but we're committed to it. And we'd love for you to join us.
Come as you are. Whether you're just curious about faith or you've been following Jesus for years, there's a place for you here. We meet every Sunday, and we'd love to have you with us. Let's learn together what it means to live differently—and watch how God uses that to change the world around us.