“As we were going to the place of prayer, we were met by a slave girl who had a spirit of divination and brought her owners much gain by fortune-telling. She followed Paul and us, crying out, “These men are servants of the Most High God, who proclaim to you the way of salvation.” And this she kept doing for many days. Paul, having become greatly annoyed, turned and said to the spirit, ‘I command you in the name of Jesus Christ to come out of her.’ And it came out that very hour.”
Acts 16:16-18, ESV
Have you ever faced a situation where a difficult, loud-mouthed person—whose manner, reputation, and personal lifestyle went against everything you believed in—tried to promote themselves as a primary spokesperson for something you cared about? I don’t know about you, but when this has happened to me, I’ve become extremely irritated. Further, I’ve tried to do everything in my power to disassociate myself from them.
In truth, most of us have had a neighbor, co-worker, fellow student, or politician that greatly annoys us. But, admittedly, it gets complicated when the most difficult person (or persons) we know is part of our family. And although most of us might look forward to National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation each year, having a “Cousin Eddie” isn’t always funny. In fact, for many, there are real scars and sadness that won’t be fully healed this side of heaven, even if one does manage to retain a sense of humor. BTW, I once had a friend tell me that she was related to Jerry Springer’s entire fall line-up! Maybe you can relate.
What’s more, if you’ve resonated with anything I’ve said so far, I hope you come to appreciate the passage above as much as I have. Here the great missionary—the apostle Paul and his friends are on the way to a prayer meeting when they are unexpectedly gifted with the daily presence of a demon-possessed press agent. We’re told she’s a slave girl with “a spirit,” literally “a python.” Scholars tell us that this “python” concept “goes back to the Greek city of Delphi where the god Apollo was believed to be embodied in a python snake… [and] anyone possessed by the python spirit could foretell coming events…”[1] They also tell us that “Greeks and Romans put great stock on augury and divination. No commander would set out on a major military campaign, nor would an emperor make an important decree without first consulting an oracle to see how things might turn out.”[2]
Often the focus, when considering this passage, has been on the miraculous deliverance of an exploited young lady but, for our purposes, I’d like to take a closer look at why Paul delivered her. You see, Paul’s problem wasn’t just her associations; it was her message itself. Her daily cries that they were servants of “the Most High God” were actually causing confusion as the phrase could be applied to Zeus as well as the Triune God. Further, when she said they were proclaiming “the way of salvation,” this too was ambiguous because the Greco-Roman world was full of “saviors.” Indeed, even the current Roman emperor had dubbed himself “savior.” Bottom line, the girl’s testimony was open to too much misunderstanding in a pagan polytheistic culture, and Paul in no way wanted it to appear that she was their partner in the gospel.
And this is why it says that he became “greatly annoyed.”
I find the Scripture’s honest use of these words extremely encouraging. We have this illusion that all outreach or evangelistic success is born out of high, lofty, and holy motivations like a pure, unselfish, compassionate heart. Not so. The truth is God is sovereign and works however He wants, even through people like you and me! But the most important thing I want you to see here is that He often works through or in synch with our normal emotions—even our irritations and annoyances.
My wife, Pam, and I have had more than our share of family-of-origin challenges that have “greatly annoyed” us over the years. Without a doubt, we’ve cleaned up more than our share of “messes”—even literal ones, as you’ll soon see. One of the frustrating things has been that we’ve often felt penalized for having our lives together or having some margin of strength to help. And over time, our money (the little that we had), time, and effort came to not only be expected but also quickly taken advantage of. Scenario after scenario, we’d clean up after some combination of laziness, entitlement, cowardice, mental illness, addictions, and dysfunction. But, in doing so and despite our prayers, there rarely seemed to be a change of heart or even a spark of desire to make space for God.
Then, in mid-2006, Pam’s mom was diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer, making her parents’ current living conditions unsustainable. But helping them down-size was a daunting task that ended up taking over a year. Besides the challenge of finding affordable housing, there was the even greater challenge of getting them out of their current conditions. Due to years of neglect, not only was their home in a state of serious disrepair but there was junk everywhere. Moreover, due to a lack of strength, resources, and the will to do hard things, Pam and I had to go in and mobilize some friends to empty the house. We ended up bagging and throwing out most of the contents. Pam especially, having done most of the work, was exhausted. And I was furious, wrestling with internal feelings of “enough is enough!” and trying to set “boundaries” that not only had no effect but, sadly, just made Pam feel further abandoned. (BTW, I came to understand later that many of those boundaries were actually more about me than “us,” more about control and a dislike for the messy, than love.
Finally, in December 2007, the moving deadline came but, of course, no one seemed to have thought about a moving truck or money to pay for it. And so, we ended up putting it on our credit card. I was so angry I couldn’t even speak to or even look at her parents during the week leading up to the official move. Admittedly, my anger got the best of me and I just fumed and worked that much harder just to get the job done.
On the final night of the move, after we had finished unloading the truck, Pam’s dad came out and initiated giving me a hug, thanking me for our help. The last thing I wanted was to hug him back… but I did, praying in that moment for a strength and love I didn’t feel and saying, honestly, “Dad, sometimes it’s just too much.” He nodded, seeming to understand and appreciate that we had still helped them.
Just a few short months later, in March 2008, Pam’s mom passed leaving her dad grieving along with the rest of Pam’s siblings. That’s when God surprised us. Her Dad began to attend church with us. Then he came to faith! Then he joined the church and eventually even a small group. He then began to use his gifts in organizing refreshments and becoming a greeter on Sunday mornings. And many in our men’s class will never forget the first time he prayed publicly in our group.
In the midst of pain and being “greatly annoyed, the God of miracles showed up to draw a man to himself!
Now let me be clear about something. This unexpected turn of events and cause for rejoicing (Luke 15:7) did not erase all the pain and trauma of the past, but here’s what it did: It helped us feel that our pain wasn’t wasted. Further, it helped us, in this instance anyway, clearly see God’s purpose in our pain.
Our faith grew—and so does yours—as we learn together that God works through our painful emotions and even our seriously flawed, albeit honest, attempts to love difficult people.
If we really believed this, just think how strong we’d be.
[1] Bible Knowledge Commentary, 399.
[2] New American Commentary, 51.