Everyone’s chains came off

There’s this wonderful little story in the book Acts of the Apostles about Paul and Silas in the city of Philippi. For no good reason, they are hauled before the local officials, beaten, attacked by a crowd, and thrown deep inside a prison.
Then, in the middle of the night, as they are praying and singing, and other prisoners are listening, an earthquake shakes the foundations of the prison and “...all the prison doors flew open, and everyone’s chains came loose.” (Acts 16:26b, NIV).
I had been reading that story when I heard about the shooting in Uvalde, Texas on May 24. The violence and loss experienced that day deeply disturbed me, as I’m sure it did you. Those children were simply too beautiful, their stories too promising, their parents too devastated.
The teachers looked too much like my own daughters. The response from too many of our elected leaders has been too infuriating. Unspeakable tragedy has become too normal.
It feels to me like we are all chained in that prison in Philippi, our feet in stocks, stuck in some sort of mental prison. We seem to believe we cannot manage guns any more safely than this, that violence such as the children faced in Uvalde cannot be prevented.
We’ve come to accept gunshot wounds as the leading cause of death among children and teenagers—two-thirds by suicide. Many of us have bought into the idea that even though we already have more guns than people in this country, more guns will make us safer.
We don’t have to be stuck like this. God has given us the tools we need to create a peaceful and stable society that protects its children, while allowing law-abiding citizens to bear arms for self-defense and sport.
We can limit certain kinds of weapons, require background checks, have a waiting period, allow police to confiscate guns from people proven dangerous, raise the minimum age of purchase. We can increase gun safety training, safe storage, and the use of smart locks and smart guns. We can hold voluntary gun buy-backs to destroy surplus weapons.
At the same time, we can show more compassion and support for children who might otherwise become shooters—children who experience generational trauma, parental abuse and neglect, bullying and self-hate.
We can regulate violent and hate-filled content in video games and on social media, teach social-emotional skills, and adequately fund mental health care for diagnosis and treatment, as well as parenting education, mentoring programs and child protection.
No single action will prevent all tragedies. Just as hardening the school building, having an armed school security officer, and training law enforcement for effective response did not stop the tragedy in Uvalde. But common-sense reforms, which most people want, can transform society and save many of God’s beautiful children.
Back in Philippi, when the prisoners are set free, the jailer is terrified about what will happen to him. He asks Paul and Silas, “what must I do to be saved?”
He’s not asking this question because he’s concerned what will happen to his soul after he dies, but because he is stuck in a culture of violence right now. He’s trapped in an evil system that maintains power by inflicting pain and suffering. And he wants out.
His salvation comes when he and his household experience a profound change of heart. They become believers in Jesus Christ, who shows them a different way of being in community. The way of Christ is a way of peace, not violence. It is a way of love and compassion that transforms society, one heart at a time. It is a way that promises abundant life in God’s creation.
Like the jailer, we don’t have to live like this anymore. We can be saved from the violence currently in our social system. We can be free to enjoy life God as intends. We can make changes so that our common life is more like the way of Christ, which is peace and love for all God’s children. I believe God is already shaking the prison foundations, springing open the doors, and unfastening everyone’s chains. May it be so.