What is our reason to exist?
Whether in the pits of perilous hardships or unconquerable stress, there were times I wondered why I was here. Perhaps you have been in a similar position. If this year has taught us anything, it is that life is unpredictable. Sadly, that unpredictability is what makes life so unbearably difficult.
If you are asking why you exist, or what purpose you have in this world, there are passages that we know. Let it be known that Scripture provides clear encouragement for us! Perhaps you are familiar with this passage: “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.’” Though Jeremiah 29:11 speaks to the Israelites, we cling to the promise of hope and see its application in our lives. We can surely be redeemed if Israel, a nation plagued with unrighteousness, could be saved. Note also Romans 8:18, which states that “the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.” These passages and more ought to motivate us, as the Holy Spirit’s written admonitions show that there is indeed a light at the end of the tunnel.
Still, it can be difficult for us to truly understand why God would place us in a world filled with so much evil, pain, and suffering. Often, I ask myself how I am to help others if I cannot even conquer my own sinfulness. We are often so aware of our unholiness that we feel even more unworthy of God’s holiness, this feeling driving us to despair. Paul, in Romans 7:24, describes the feeling well: “Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?”
Follow me in this image. You work as a jailer in Philippi, entrusted with numerous
prisoners that have committed various crimes. You are given two men that have been disturbing the city, encouraging the Romans to take part in customs that are not per tradition. As you look at them, you see their scars and bruises. They have clearly been beaten, and they have now been given to you, as you are charged with keeping them safely. You follow orders, putting the two in the inner prison and fastening their feet to remove any possibility of escape.
After a while, you notice something strange. The two men that you personally imprisoned are singing, giving praise to their deity. Why would someone sing at a time like this? Do these men not realize where they are? Furthermore, why do they sing of an authority higher than the king to whom your service is dedicated? Despite your initial annoyance and lingering questions, you eventually listen to their words, as you realize they are not going to stop. Thankfully, their singing does not make you unable to sleep.
You wake to a tumultuous rumbling. The shaking seems to stop, but you realize that every prison door is open. Surely, every prisoner has escaped. Tears well in your eyes as you assess the situation. You feel like a failure, as you have been given one job and have failed it miserably. When your higher-ups find out about this, you will not even live long enough to fear losing your position. Grabbing your sword, you intend to end your life. Surely that is better than the punishment you will face at the hands of those above you. At this moment, your life has lost its meaning and purpose; essentially, it would be better to die.
That is precisely the scene set in Acts 16. The Philippian jailer is entrusted with Paul and Silas, the singing Christians that have apparently disturbed the city, but seemingly fails in his mission. As the jailer is about to kill himself, Paul urgently yells for him to stop. However, the story does not end there. The jailer marvels at these two men, Paul and Silas, who have stayed despite their opportunity to leave. Bringing them out, verse 30 shows that he asks the most important question possible: “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?” He has heard their singing, their rejoicing in their horrid circumstances, and wants to know the Jesus to whom Paul and Silas are offering praise. He knows that this name, its significance not fully known to him, is connected to hope. This name, to whomever it would refer, would give meaning to a now-meaningless life.
Paul and Silas tell him the significance of Jesus’ name, and the jailer “was baptized at once, he and all his family” (Acts 16:33). At the proclaiming of the Gospel, the jailer immediately reacted in obedience and rejoicing. It is interesting that we know neither the man’s name nor the names of his family members. However, that did not matter. Paul and Silas had, despite having been beaten and thrown in prison, gained brethren. The name of Jesus was the only name that mattered.
You may be wondering how this story connects to our initial question, “What is our reason to exist?” Acts 16:25-34 may not seem like a traditional text to answer this question, but it answers it perfectly. Through Paul and Silas’ actions, the reason to live was clear: Jesus. In response to an imminent suicide, Paul and Silas pointed the weary soul to the living water (John 4:10, 7:38). This jailer was poor in spirit, and he was admitted into the kingdom of heaven (Matt. 5:3). He was merciful, and he received mercy in return (Matt. 5:7).
No matter how far you have wandered, and no matter the volume of your mistakes, “[God] desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth” (1 Tim. 2:4). No matter your occupation or story, God desires that you understand and obey the truth. Romans 2:11 shows that “God shows no partiality,” and thus the question is how far you are willing to go in obedience to Him. Note that it was the Lord’s name, not the jailer’s job security and status, that gave “a future and a hope” (Jer. 29:11). That name continues to give hope today, and I urge
you to henceforth live for that reason.