They have beaten us publicly, uncondemned, men who are Roman citizens, and have thrown us into prison; and do they now throw us out secretly? No! Let them come themselves and take us out.” (Acts 16:37)
I love the ending of chapter 16: The authorities wanted Paul and Silas set free. But, Paul says, not without justice.
He demands an apology because he and Silas were both Roman citizens who never should have been subjected to such treatment without a trial. The authorities give them an apology, lead them to the edge of the city, and ask them to leave in order to save face. Instead, Paul and Silas stick around for a while.
It reminded me of the movie IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER starring Daniel Day Lewis. Gerry Conton is one of four people falsely convicted of the 1974 Guildford Pub Bombings. After his exoneration, is asked to leave by the back door for “security reasons.” Instead, he goes out the front door to be in the public eye.
Where do we get our beliefs?
Three theological perspectives have significantly shaped my Christian identity: Evangelicalism, the early Methodist tradition and liberation theology.
From my coming to faith in a Baptist church and throughout my education in a Baptist school and college, I was nurtured by convictions that emphasized a spiritual rebirth, a personal relationship with Jesus Christ and the centrality of the Bible. Even when I disagree with certain aspects of evangelicalism, it has deeply influenced my sense of what it means to be a follower of Jesus Christ.
My seminary studies spawned my interest in early Methodism, particularly its approach to spiritual formation. Its leaders were convinced that only a foundation of doctrine and discipline would lead to a meaningful transformation of the heart and mind. In other words, having the mind of Christ enables me to be more like Christ.
Life in a suburban culture obscures the increasing gap between the poor and rich, as well as the Bible’s close identification with the poor. My doctoral work in socio-cultural context exposed me to liberation theology, which helps me see redemptive history as a history of oppressed groups, written from the perspective of the powerless, about a God who is actively involved with the poor in their struggles.
I am now the pastor at Mount Zion United Methodist Church in St Mary’s County, Maryland. Together my wife and I have 4 children.
The Other Six Days 