How to hold on when things are hard
What does it cost to follow Jesus? A lesson in perseverance from an imprisoned Paul.
Public Theology is based on the work of Zach W. Lambert, Pastor of Restore, an inclusive church in Austin, Texas. He and his wife, Amy Lambert, contribute to and moderate this account. Zach’s first book, Better Ways to Read the Bible, is now available wherever books are sold.
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After years of preaching a radically inclusive Gospel message and starting churches where all people could equally belong across the Roman Empire, the Apostle Paul decided it was time to go back to Jerusalem.
This decision came as a shock to those around him. Many people warned Paul that danger awaited him in the city where Jesus died and rose again.
But Paul was determined to go.
“I am ready not only to be jailed at Jerusalem but even to die for the sake of the Lord Jesus.”
Acts 21:13
After Paul arrives at the Temple in Jerusalem, the warnings he received become a reality. Paul is falsely accused of defiling the Temple and the crowd turns on him. A group of men grab Paul, drag him out of the Temple, and begin beating him relentlessly. The Roman soldiers on duty hear the commotion and decide to arrest Paul, thinking he was at fault for the fight.
Before they take him to jail, Paul asks if he can take a moment to address the crowd. The Roman soldiers agree and Paul turns to the group of people who just tried to lynch him. He begins to tell his story.
“Brothers and fathers, listen now to my defense.”
When they heard him speak to them in Aramaic, they became very quiet. Then Paul said:
“I am a Jew, born in Tarsus of Cilicia, but brought up in this city. I studied under Gamaliel and was thoroughly trained in the law of our ancestors. I was just as zealous for God as any of you are today. I persecuted the followers of this Way to their death, arresting both men and women and throwing them into prison, as the high priest and all the Council can themselves testify. I even obtained letters from them to their associates in Damascus, and went there to bring these people as prisoners to Jerusalem to be punished.
“About noon as I came near Damascus, suddenly a bright light from heaven flashed around me. I fell to the ground and heard a voice say to me, ‘Saul! Saul! Why do you persecute me?’ ‘Who are you, Lord?’ I asked. ‘I am Jesus of Nazareth, whom you are persecuting,’ he replied.”
Acts 22:1-8
The crowd is captivated. They listen intently as Paul talks about his conversion to following the Way of Jesus, his baptism, and his calling to preach and plant churches.
But everything changes when Paul tells them who God has called him to minister to.
“Then the Lord said to me, ‘Go; I will send you far away to the Gentiles.’” The crowd listened to Paul until he said this. Then they raised their voices and shouted, “Rid the earth of him! He’s not fit to live!”
Acts 22:21-22
When the crowd hears that Paul was called by Jesus to widen the circle— to invite everyone into the family of God regardless of who they were or where they were from— they try to kill him again.
The Roman soldiers take Paul into protective custody and eventually transfer him to a prison in Caesarea where he spends two years behind bars. After multiple trials, Paul decides to use his right as a Roman citizen to appeal to Caesar, and he is transferred to Rome where he spends two more years under house arrest.
During those four years of incarceration, Paul writes what are commonly called The Prison Epistles—the New Testament books of Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians, and Philemon.
In fact, did you know that about half of the letters in the New Testament were written from jail? Either by Paul or other people incarcerated for their faith?
Famous phrases like:
“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” Philippians 4:13
“Love is patient, love is kind…” 1 Corinthians 13:4
“For God did not give us a spirit of fear, but of power and love and self-control.” 2 Timothy 1:7
“He will wipe every tear from their eyes, there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain…” Revelation 21:4
All of these and more were penned inside of a prison cell. Think about that: a significant percentage of our faith’s holy book was written behind bars. What does that mean?
It means that committing ourselves to the work of Jesus does not come without cost. A lot of you already know this, and I don’t just mean you know it theoretically: you know it from firsthand experience.
“The great challenge of faith is not simply to speak about God but to live in a way that makes God’s love visible in the world. Many call on the name of Jesus, but few are willing to walk the path of suffering love that he calls us to.”
Henri Nouwen
Being people who follow Jesus takes courage. We must persevere.
Not only are we trying to deal with whatever traumas and trials life has thrown our way personally, we are faced with further horrors every time we open social media or turn on the news.
Not only are we trying to navigate ever-deepening polarization in our world, we are navigating it in our own families, too.
Not only are we trying to be follow the narrow Way of Jesus, we are doing so at a time when the public perception of Christians is at an all time low.
So what can we do?
We can work to cultivate a resilient faith and keep courageously following Jesus even when it costs us.
Perseverance through trials
James, a servant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ, to the twelve tribes scattered among the nations: Greetings. Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.
James 1:1-4, 12
If you’ve read other New Testament letters, this intro feels a little jarring. Most of the time these letters begin with prayers, a list of folks the author wants to say hi to, words of encouragement, etc. But not this one. James is like, “My name is James. Greetings. Get ready for trials and troubles.”
James gets right to the point because he knows that life has been really hard for the people to whom he’s writing. They don’t need long greetings or flowery language. They need a pep talk. They need reassurance that persevering in their faith, even in the midst of their pain, is worth it.
James’ message here is not unique. Remember, the New Testament was written by and to a group of people who were experiencing tremendous trials. They dealt with poverty and displacement, and they were living under the thumb of the cruel Roman Empire.
Not only that: these followers of Jesus also dealt with harassment and mistreatment because of their faith. Peter echoes James’ theme in his letter to the early church.
Who will want to harm you if you are eager to do good? But even if you suffer for doing what is right, God will reward you for it. So don’t worry or be afraid of their threats. Instead, you must worship Christ as Lord of your life. And if someone asks about your hope as a believer, always be ready to explain it. But do this in a gentle and respectful way.
Keep your conscience clear. Then if people speak against you, they will be ashamed when they see what a good life you live because you belong to Christ. Remember, it is better to suffer for doing good, if that is what God wants, than to suffer for doing wrong!
1 Peter 3:13-17
Peter starts off by saying that in an ideal world, no one would harm you for doing good things. But this isn’t an ideal world— neither then nor now. Suffering for doing what is right may come. It probably will come. Like I said earlier, many of you know this truth first hand.
There is a cost to following Jesus.
But just like James, Peter encourages us to keep the faith and keep doing good even when it’s hard. “Don’t be afraid of their threats,” he writes. Don’t be intimidated.
They want to you to be so afraid that you’ll quit. But don’t quit, Peter says. James writes: “Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial.”
James and Peter didn’t come up with this on their own; they took these words directly from Jesus.
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.
Matthew 5:10-12
Jesus reminds us that this is nothing new. The prophets of old dealt with trials because of their faith. The first century disciples of Jesus dealt with trials because of their faith. And still today, we experience trials because of our faith. To be clear: I’m not talking about the culture war talking points of, as an example, people saying “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas” during our holiday shopping trips, or a lack of preference for Christian beliefs over other religions in our public schools. Surely we know the difference between these things and true persecution.
Orienting our lives around the Way of Jesus is not easy, especially right now as these things Jesus calls us to do— loving our enemies, serving the poor, standing up for the marginalized, and welcoming the immigrant— are being demonized by large numbers of self-proclaimed Christians.
Following Jesus will cost us. Actually, I would say that it should cost us. To put it another way, if following Jesus isn’t costing us anything, there’s a pretty good chance we aren’t really doing it.
When we go before Him, God will ask, “Where are your wounds?” And we will say, “I have no wounds.” And God will ask, “Was there nothing worth fighting for?”
Allan Aubrey Boesak
There is so much going on in our lives and in our world right now. The sheer amount of injustice and suffering can be overwhelming, and that overwhelm can easily morph into disengagement. But like I've said many times before: we can’t do everything, but we can do something.
There are things worth fighting for. There are things worth standing up and speaking out for. There are things worth being wounded for.
Cultivating a resilient faith looks like courageously following Jesus, even and especially when it costs us. Like James, Jesus, and Peter said, it looks like persevering through trials, not backing down when we’re afraid, and doing what we know is right no matter what comes our way.
The Apostle Paul embodied this. That’s why, even after being incarcerated for four years, he continued to courageously follow Christ, writing letters from prison and eventually being killed by the Roman Empire for his faith.
The book of Acts ends with this powerful reminder of Paul’s commitment:
“Paul proclaimed the kingdom of God and taught about the Lord Jesus Christ—with all boldness and without hindrance!”
Acts 28:31
Paul cultivated a resilient faith by continuing to follow Jesus with boldness, even when he suffered for it. It often feels like the greatest oppositional force to living out our faith publicly is the unChristlike witness of other Christians. Or, to put it another way, it’s hard to cultivate a resilient faith when so many who claim to share our faith practice it in harmful ways.
I’ve been thinking a lot about this recently. It feels like it’s the main topic of most of my pastoral conversations with my congregants and other likeminded Christians over the past decade. But I came across a prayer written by
that encouraged me tremendously, and I want to share it with you.It’s called A Benediction for the (Stubborn) Ones Still Holding On. It doesn’t answer every question or solve every problem, but it has helped me to keep cultivating a resilient faith while strengthening my resolve to keep following Jesus even when it’s hard. You can also find it here:
A Benediction for the (Stubborn) Ones Still Holding On
by Sarah Bessey
Beloved friends who still love this Story
even when it breaks your heart,
may you be blessed in your faithfulness,
even as you stand as witness to loss.
Blessed are you who still claim “Christian”
even with that angry wobble in your voice
and sad need for clarity,
who hold that name not with prideful certainty
but with a grieving ache and defiant hope.
Blessed are you who stay,
not out of denial or obligation or fear,
but out of faithful defiance.
Not to defend what has become indefensible,
but to witness to a better truth:
that this name once meant love, and still can.
Blessed are you who refuse
to surrender the language of grace
to the machinery of hate,
who will not let the gospel of peace be devoured
by the politics of fear and efficiency and dominance and wealth.
Blessed are you when your loved ones don't understand
or sweep it under the rug or pretend ignorance,
or morph into someone you don't even recognize.
Blessed are you when you feel betrayed by the Church
that raised you and the people you once trusted,
yours is the companionship of the prophets.
For all of us who have been accused of abandoning the faith
simply for refusing to bow to idols in its name,
we acknowledge both your courage and your loneliness.
May your faith be counted as righteousness.
Blessed are the disillusioned, the disoriented, the disgusted,
for yours is a holy discontent.
Yours is the ache that calls for reformation.
Yours is the grief that proves your love.
Yours is the longing that keeps you near to our God
even when the institution makes you want to run.
May you find companions along the way
- the saints, sinners, mystics, prophets, doubters, and troublemakers,
who still believe in mercy and still chase the Spirit
through the ruins of a crumbling empire and
into the garden of resurrection.
May you be blessed with clarity
when the fog of the loudest voices
co-opting faith as a disguise
sweep into the once-green valleys of your life.
May you never confuse a critical spirit
with being a critical thinker:
stay generous, stay open, stay breakable.
May your discernment be sharp
even as your heart remains soft.
May the love of Jesus,
that real unconditional empire upending love,
- not the brand,
not the spectacle,
not the headline,
not the dominant voice of empire claiming his name -
be your compass, your comfort, and your sanctuary.
And when you feel alone
(because you will)
when you wonder if you’re the last one left
who sees the gospel as liberation,
who believes kindness is strength,
who follows a peacemaking Saviour,
may you remember this:
you are not alone. Not even close.
May you be given a glimpse of the great cloud of witnesses
the ancestors and ancients who know even know
that the Church is bigger than this moment in time.
And resurrection will not be stopped
by those who shout the loudest or build the biggest platforms
or even win the day.
So keep moving, keep working, keep hoping,
not in certainty, but in faith.
Go in holy stubbornness and sacred humility.
Go with your head held high, not in arrogance
but in humble truth.
You are still a Christian,
God help you,
and as long as you are here,
you stand as part of a company,
as a prophetic outpost,
camped right in the teeth of the lie,
with a grin on your face and
an outstretched hand.
Your faithfulness,
your insistence on grace and love,
your dogged relentless insistence that
the Gospel is good news and God is here,
and every small bit of holiness and care matters,
is also a sign of God’s presence in this world.
In the name of the One who overturned tables,
washed feet,
forgave enemies,
welcomed outcasts,
and called us friends,
one God and mother of us all,
go in peace
and do likewise.
Amen.
Recommended Resources:
Running with Horses: Reflections of an Accidental Politician by Allan Boesak
Compassion: A Reflection on the Christian Life by Henri Nouwen
Are we still calling ourselves Christians? By Sarah Bessey
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Zach, thank you for this excellent essay. It hits home as I wade through where and how I should be navigating life and the gifts I’ve been given to best advocate for what is right and good.
Thank you so much for this on an early (3:00 am) morning when I am tossing and turning and cannot sleep. I love Sarah Bessey. I am going to print out her blessing. It speaks to me as I know it speaks to SO MANY in these days. The line, "Not to defend what has become indefensible,
but to witness to a better truth:that this name once meant love, and still can" really got me. I never thought about how many of the epistles were written from one type of prison to another! Looking back at the "name it, claim it," theology of the 1970s and beyond, I cannot understand how so many missed this stuff!