Tuesday of the Sixth Week of Easter

House of Gold
Tower of Ivory

Lectionary: 292


Then he brought them out and said,
“Sirs, what must I do to be saved?”
And they said, “Believe in the Lord Jesus
and you and your household will be saved.”


The word save or saved appears twelve times in the Acts of the Apostles. Its last three appearances concern a storm at sea and the sailors’ desperate attempts to stay afloat. In the end they were saved by obeying the specific instructions of a prophetic convict, Saint Paul.

Personal salvation seemed to be the greatest concern of the ancient world. The vast Mediterranean empire enjoyed political stability; merchants traveled freely on the sea and there was no reason to suppose the Pax Romana would ever end. But something was wrong spiritually and people wondered if they could be saved.

Nineteen centuries later, two clowns in the play Waiting for Godot, attempt to discuss salvation. But neither can make sense of it. Their future is invested in a vague promise by a fellow named Godot, who might appear if he happens to exist. He might be their savior, or he might be only an employer. He might give them a handout; or he might not show up. Or they might be waiting in the wrong place. They are waiting because they have nothing else to do. 

The clowns Vladimir and Estragon cannot remember much of their past. In the immediate wake of two world wars the past seemed obliterated. Salvation, satisfaction, meaningful work, contentment, happiness: nothing appeals to them. They are doomed to an endless wait without hope. Few plays have ever described the angst of our time better.

(I took my mother to see it at a small, regional college in Louisiana. Though it was badly done by the young actors I left the theater in tears. My mother hated it. She said, “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen! It made no sense!” I despaired of ever explaining it to her. God rest her soul.)

Can I be saved? Saved from what exactly? I meet few people who worry about Hell. The subject almost never comes up. No editorialist assures me the perpetrators of terror will go, or have gone, to Hell. Did Adam Lanza go to Hell after he murdered those teachers and children? Did Tamerlan Tsarnaev go to hell when the police gunned him down? Does anyone feel reassured with the promise of their endless damnation?

But angst still runs deep. I hear it in desperate pleas for pain relief. Millions of hapless Americans are addicted to prescription medicines while doctors and druggists go to jail for attempting to relieve their pain. Or is it only their uncertainty about existence? Perhaps they mean to say, “If I must exist, make it as painless as possible!”

In today's reading from the Acts of the Apostles, there was something deeply satisfying in the jailer’s encounter with Saint Paul’s Christian troupe. After he was baptized, he no longer feared punishment for allowing his prisoners to escape. Facing unemployment and possible jail time he cheerfully entertained the escapees in his own house.

What did he find that we are missing? Saint Luke says, “The forgiveness of sin.”

All the prophets testify about him that everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name.’ Acts of the Apostles 10.43

Whether we are talking specifically about intentional sins against a merciful God, or the more common sins against our human nature, the Lord Jesus died and was raised up to save us from sin. We don’t have to act sinfully anymore. The jailer need not keep innocent men in prison. 

Tower of Ivory
painting on the wall
of the Shrine of Monte Casino
Saint Meinrad, Indiana

Jesus has revealed to us the intense, merciful love of the Father; he has drunk the bitter cup to show us his own patient and all-consuming love; and he has poured the Holy Spirit upon us to make us dance for joy.

The forgiveness of sin is is not something Vladimir and Estragon or Tamerlan and Dzhohkar can understand without our witness. They know nothing of grace. They are waiting for us to tell them about sin, forgiveness and the promises of God.