Opposition and Advancement

This story is wondrous, miraculous, and humorous. It displays the power of God and the human touch of a master writer. It’s easy to read the Bible and miss humor, especially in the midst of a serious story, but John Polhill says that Luke includes a “comic touch” at various places in the narrative (Acts, 276). Thomas Schreiner says, “Luke was surely touched by the humor in the story. . . . You sense the humanity of Luke” (“God’s Inscrutable Sovereignty”).

While Herod prepared to bring Peter out of prison, Peter was “sleeping between two soldiers” (v. 6). He isn’t biting his nails, pacing the floor, or trying to negotiate a deal. He’s sleeping! The passage provides no hint of any anxiety at work in him, a fact that reminds me of a later story in which Paul and Silas sang hymns in prison. Paul sings; Peter sleeps (Stott, Message of Acts, 209). Here we find a wonderful application.

The apostle Paul reminded the Philippian church of this wonderful truth:

Don’t worry about anything, but in everything, through prayer and petition with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. (Phil 4:6-7)

Peter was guarded by soldiers, but his heart was guarded by God. Know this peace. Live in this peace through the Prince of peace, who himself could go to sleep in the middle of a storm.

In verse 7 an angel comes in and stands next to Peter, and light shines in the cell, but that doesn’t wake Peter up! The angel has to strike Peter on the side to move him. I’ve got to believe Luke loved to tell this story. He had to get some details from several sources to write it, but I think Peter’s confession made him smile. Can’t you imagine Peter reporting, “An angel was kicking me in the ribs, saying, Get up!”?

When Peter wakes, the chains fall off. Our Lord specializes in breaking chains (see Ps 146:7). Peter follows the angel, thinking he’s dreaming. This detail is important because it tells us that Peter knew he couldn’t claim that the rescue was owing to anything he did or could do. He wasn’t freed because he was strong or fast. All he contributed to the event was walking dazedly through the prison area as told.

The “iron gate” opens the same way the stone was rolled away: by God’s mighty power. It opened “by itself” (automate¯ in Greek). Upon exiting, Peter enters the street, the angel leaves, and Peter finally comes to and becomes aware of the Lord’s great rescue.

Just as Moses told Israel, “Stand firm and see the Lord’s salvation that he will accomplish for you today” just prior to the parting of the seas (Exod 14:13), Peter would receive grace as the angel led him out of prison. This story isn’t about Peter’s escape on his own; it’s about Peter’s deliverance by God. The Lord delivered Peter by sheer grace. He is the great Rescuer (2 Tim 4:17-18). Likewise, we’re saved by simply receiving God’s grace by faith (Eph 2:8-9). Consequently, all glory belongs to God (Rom 3:28). God’s grace here was so astonishing that even a praying church had a difficult time believing it!

As Peter makes his way down the darkened streets, the church is gathered in prayer at the home of a generous woman of means named Mary. “Confusion and joyful humor” abound in what happens next (Hughes, Acts, 169).

First, there’s Rhoda. She is the servant on guard duty. Peter arrives and knocks outside the gate that leads into the courtyard. Rhoda recognizes Peter’s voice, and in her astonishment she goes back to tell the church about his arrival, but she neglects to open the door to let Peter enter! The last place Peter needs to be at this time is in the middle of the street, exposed to possible recapture (Polhill, Acts, 282).

Then the church enters into the poor decision making. They don’t believe Rhoda. They tell her she’s crazy! Here’s a picture of a people who are praying but are struggling with believing that God actually works miracles! I don’t think Luke included this insight as an indictment on the church. These men and women were ordinary humans who knew God doesn’t promise a miracle every moment. Maybe they were praying conservatively: “Lord, just help Peter be strong in suffering. Cause Herod to give a lighter sentence.” In any case, you can imagine them saying to the flustered servant girl, “Oh, be quiet. We’re all stressed here. You’re going to lose your mind if you aren’t careful. We need to get back to prayer.” Nevertheless, Rhoda insists Peter is truly outside. And here, surprisingly, some of the Christ followers take the time to theorize about whether the man at the gate could possibly be Peter’s angel. In other words, they stand around discussing theology while the answer to their prayer is waiting outside!

And there, out in the darkness and exposed to danger, stands Peter. He just keeps knocking, perhaps pausing to whisper with more intensity: “Rhoda! Let me in!”

Thankfully, the church eventually opens the door, and Peter enters. Apparently the group then erupts with such astonishment and joy that Peter has to tell them to be quiet. He is a wanted man, after all, in the middle of a city. Once they calm, he goes on to tell the church “how the Lord had brought him out of the prison” (v. 17). He tells them about the Lord’s grace.

The church’s reaction to Peter reminds us of an important lesson.

God “is able to do above and beyond all that we ask or think” (Eph 3:20), yet the church here is surprised by God’s ability. Let’s elevate our concept of what God can do. “Thou art coming to a King, large petitions with thee bring for his grace and power are such; none can never ask too much,” said John Netwon (“Come, My Soul, Thy Suit Prepare”). Trust in his power as you pour out your heart to him.

Two other pieces of information are relayed in the last part of verse 17. Peter instructs the church to “tell these things to James and the brothers.” This is a small detail, but it speaks to the leadership of James in the Jerusalem church (Acts 15). Then Peter “left and went to another place” (v. 17). Peter uses practical wisdom here. He doesn’t rely on a miracle for everything. He flees from Agrippa’s wrath. He doesn’t run back to the guards singing MC Hammer’s, “Can’t Touch This.” He uses wisdom.

Herod, of course, wasn’t happy with the turn of events. He proceeds to cross-examine the soldiers, probably torturing them. Convinced that only an inside job could free Peter, he eventually puts the soldiers to death (v. 19) in accordance with Roman law, which specified that a guard who allowed a prisoner to escape must receive the same penalty that the escapee would have received (Polhill, Acts, 283). After these executions, Herod went to Caesarea.

Such violence aside, I am struck by the tenderness and childlike wonder this story elicits. Should this passage not remind us of the need to live with joyful confidence in our King, under the care of our great Father? We need to believe like trusting children. To pray like children. To go to sleep like children. We need to laugh like children, trusting that our Abba is the sovereign Father over all things. He breaks chains. He frees prisoners. He humiliates bullies. We can trust him. We should petition him. We must rest with the peace that comes from him. He is amazing.

Acts 12:20-24

What happened to Herod, this earthly king that opposed Christ’s kingdom? He was eaten by worms and died. Or to say it another way, the Lord judged him. The lesson here is clear: those who oppose the Lord will lose. When they oppose his kingdom, they lose. When they oppose the truth, they will eventually lose. Though the Lord doesn’t always settle accounts immediately, he will.

The coastal towns of Tyre and Sidon were on the inland areas that Agrippa ruled, and he controlled their food supply (v. 20). A guy named Blastus served as a mediator between Herod and representatives from these areas; he apparently helped negotiate an agreement suitable to everyone. On an appointed day, on which the agreement would be formally announced, Herod prepared to make a glorious entrance. He put on his royal robes, took his seat on the throne, and delivered an oration (v. 21).

The historian Josephus recounts this event in great detail. Herod presented himself in the famous arena in Caesarea and wore a glistening silver robe. He was hailed as a god. Of course the crowd’s words were empty flattery, but Herod still received the praise gladly. The event reminds me of the scene in the first Avengers movie. Natasha, the Black Widow, makes a comment about the battle between Loki and Thor right before Captain America leaps out of the Quinjet: “I’d sit this one out, Cap. . . . They’re basically gods,” she says. To this he replies, “There’s only one God, ma’am, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t dress like that.” And he doesn’t dress like Herod either!

Herod loves the crowd’s worship. When Cornelius bowed before Peter, Peter lifted him up, saying, “Stand up! I myself am also a man” (10:26). When the people of Lystra lauded Paul and Barnabas as gods, the pair replied with garment-tearing passion: “We are people also, just like you, . . . turn from these worthless things to the living God” (14:15). Peter and Paul point everyone to the glory of God, never to themselves. Herod’s approach to life is quite the opposite. He’s a self-exalting glory hog.

Previously an angel “struck” Peter to wake him (v. 7); here, an angel “struck” Herod to kill him. Josephus provides a natural, human explanation of what happened: “A severe pain . . . arose in his belly, which became so violent that he was carried into his palace, where five days later he died” (Stott, Message of Acts, 213). No matter the precise diagnosis of Herod’s condition, Dr. Luke tells us the ultimate reason for it: God judged him.

In contrast to Herod’s demise, Luke summarizes events connected with the church of that day: “But the word of God flourished and multiplied” (v. 24). A great opponent to the work of Christ died, but the word goes marching on! Jesus continues to build his church. This reminds us that there’s only one sovereign, and I’m reminded of Luther’s triumphant hymn, “A Mighty Fortress,” in which he says, “The body they may kill: God’s truth abideth still, his kingdom is forever.”

According to the opening verse of chapter 13, one of the leaders of the church in Antioch was “Manaen, a close friend of Herod the tetrarch.” This is a reference to Herod Antipas, not Agrippa, but the men belonged to the same family. Even in the middle of this godless, Christ-hating household, the kingdom of Christ was advancing. It’s remarkable!

John Piper summarizes this chapter of Acts well: “If we stay with Jesus, we win, and if we oppose him, we lose” (“Execution, Escape”).

Indeed, there’s both warning and hope here. The warning is this: Don’t be a self-exalter. You may oppose Christ for a season, but God will have the last laugh. Daniel said, “He changes the times and seasons; [God] removes kings and establishes kings” (Dan 2:21). When Nebuchadnezzar boasted like Herod Agrippa, “Is this not Babylon the Great that I have built to be a royal residence by my vast power and for my majestic glory?” (Dan 4:30), a voice from heaven said, “You will feed on grass like cattle” (Dan 4:32), and God humiliated the self-exalter. The wicked may prosper for a season, but judgment is certain. The axiom of the kingdom holds truth: “For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and the one who humbles himself will be exalted” (Luke 14:11). All who oppose the King will face his wrath. Herod’s death anticipates the great and final day of the Lord’s judgment.

Self-exaltation fills the hearts of all kinds of people, not just leaders. In our fallen nature we want to be God. And we certainly don’t want God to tell us what to do. But this text serves as a warning: we must humble ourselves before God; we must not try to be God.

This text also provides us with this great hope: the King’s mission is unstoppable. While we will inevitably encounter opposition as we seek to advance the gospel through prayer and proclamation, we can engage in the war with boldness and courage. Our King is triumphant. He has paid the price for our sins, and he is the exalted Lord of glory. Unlike King Herod’s, our King’s body wasn’t eaten by worms because he didn’t stay in the ground for them to do their decomposing work! No one can overcome our King, and nothing can separate the believer from his love—not tribulation, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, danger, or sword (Rom 8:31-39).