When Paul was under guard traveling to be examined by Caesar, he was put under the charge of the centurion Julius. When they make port, Julius allows Paul to go ashore and visit the church and be ‘refreshed’ by them (Acts 27:3). The very next verse, Paul is back on the boat setting sail for the next port.

This struck me as fascinating.

The 26 chapters of Acts leading up to this one are filled with Paul and the other Apostles narrowly evading capture, sometimes in crazy ways. Like being lowered out of a window in a basket.

Now, it doesn’t say it, but I’d imagine that Julius probably had a guard on Paul as he went ashore. But, even under the watchful eye of a guard, this was probably the best of opportunities to escape and continue his journeys preaching the Gospel. Especially with the help of the Brothers who were there.

But, of course, he didn’t escape. As far as our text is concerned, he didn’t even try. He most likely left peacefully, met the Church, and returned peacefully in a reasonable amount of time. But why?

Respect for his authorities, probably. Concern for the church which he was visiting, probably. But I think he was also convinced that in his chains, God would use him in greater ways than he would with his freedom. In his chains he could speak to Caesar and the high officials. He could make converts of the guards. He could constantly share his testimony of God’s grace in his life.

This is beautiful to me. This is something I’d like to learn to emulate.

Hebrews 13:3

“Remember those who are in prison, as though in prison with them, and those who are mistreated, since you also are in the body.”

This is one of those verses we glide over. It comes in a string of exhortations toward the end of Hebrews, which, when read in context, seems kind of easy to dismiss since it’s not a part of some grand discourse.

This is also one of those ‘impossible passages’. Like, “rejoice in the Lord always” (Philippians 4:4), or “love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.” (Mark 12:30), or “be holy, for I am holy.” (1 Peter 1:16).

It’s not that these commands are necessarily impossible for people to achieve. It’s that these are things that are impossible to do on our own. Now, I know I know, we can’t do any ‘good’ without God. But speaking in a less-than-spiritual sense, there are a lot of things we can seemingly achieve on our own strength. Feeding the poor. Giving money to charity. Reading the bible every day. Praying. So on and so on.

But some commands are commanded on a heart level. I can’t make myself love anything with every sensory capacity I have, as Mark 12 commands us to do of God. And I can’t feel the sense of ‘rejoicing’ in God all the time, like Philippians 4 commands.

In the same way, I can’t cause myself to ‘remember’ or to feel for the imprisoned Christians around the world as if I myself were imprisoned. It’s just not something that’s in my natural capacity to do.

There are some schools of thought that say that if a command is given that seems to say we have to do something we do not have in our power to do, it must not actually be commanded. I think that’s ludicrous. It makes far more sense that God would command things of us because they’re not in our natural capacity to do, so that we would rely on him.

It seems like a brilliant design to me. So, although I can’t make myself care. I say, lets trust God to develop that care in us.