Homily 26 — Acts 12, verses 1 to 17

“At that time Herod the king stretched out his hands to harm some who belonged to the church. And he killed James the brother of John with the sword. And because he saw that it pleased the Jews, he went further and seized Peter as well. It was then the days of Unleavened Bread.” [a]

“At that time” means, of course, the time immediately following, for this is the custom of Scripture. And he does well to say that it was Herod “the king” who did this: this was not the Herod of Christ’s time. See, here is a different kind of trial. Mark what I said at the beginning, how things are mixed together, how rest and trouble take turns through the whole fabric of the history. Now it is not the Jews, not the Sanhedrin, but the king. The greater the power, the fiercer the war, and all the more because it was done to win favor with the Jews.

“And he killed James the brother of John with the sword,” it says, taking him at random, without singling him out. But should anyone raise the question why God allowed this, we will say that it was for the sake of these Jews themselves. First, it convinced them that even when the apostles are killed they win, just as happened in the case of Stephen. Second, it gave them the chance, once they had glutted their rage, to recover from their madness. Third, it showed them that it was by God’s permission that this was done.

“And when he saw,” it says, “that it pleased the Jews, he went further and seized Peter as well.” What excessive wickedness! For whose sake did he gratify them by committing murders like this, without plan or reason? “And it was the days of Unleavened Bread.” Again, the empty scrupulousness of the Jews! They did not forbid the killing, but at such a season they did such things!

“When he had arrested him, he put him in prison, and handed him over to four squads of four soldiers to guard him” (verse 4). This was done both out of rage and out of fear.

“He killed James the brother of John with the sword,” it says. Do you notice their courage? God lets some of them be put to death, and leading men too, Stephen and James, so that no one may say that they face death without danger or fear of danger, being sure that God will rescue them. In this way he convinced their killers themselves that not even these things make them fall away or hold them back. “So Peter was kept in prison, but prayer was made without ceasing by the church to God for him” (verse 5). For the struggle was now one of life and death. Both things made them afraid: the killing of the one and the throwing of the other into prison.

“And when Herod was about to bring him out, that same night Peter was sleeping between two soldiers, bound with two chains, and the guards in front of the door were keeping the prison. And look, the angel of the Lord came upon him, and a light shone in the prison; and he struck Peter on the side and raised him up, saying, Get up quickly. And his chains fell off his hands” (verses 6 and 7).

On that very night God delivered him. “And a light shone in the prison,” so that Peter would not think it was his imagination; and no one saw the light but him. For if, even with this happening, he thought it was his imagination because it was so unexpected, then without it he would have thought so far more. So ready was he for death! What brought this about was that he had waited there many days without being rescued. You will ask: “Then why did God not let him fall into Herod’s hands, and deliver him after that?” Because that would have thrown people into astonishment, whereas this was believable; and the apostles would not even have been thought to be human beings. But in the case of Stephen, what did he not do? Did he not show them his face as if it had been the face of an angel? And here too, in short, what did he leave undone?

“And the angel said to him, Fasten your belt and put on your sandals” (verse 8). Here again it shows that it was not done by some trick. For a man who is in a hurry and wants to break out of prison is not so particular as to take his sandals and fasten his belt. “And he did so. And he said to him, Put on your cloak and follow me. And he went out and followed him, and he did not know that what was done by the angel was real, but thought he was seeing a vision. When they had passed the first guard and the second, they came to the iron gate that leads into the city, which opened for them by itself” (verses 9 and 10). See, a second miracle!

“And they went out and went along one street, and at once the angel left him. And when Peter came to himself, he said, Now I know for certain that the Lord has sent his angel and has rescued me from the hand of Herod and from all that the Jewish people were expecting” (verses 10 and 11).

When the angel had left, then Peter understood. “Now I realize,” he says; not then. But why is this so? Why was Peter not aware of what was happening, though he had already experienced a deliverance like it when all of them were set free (Acts 5, verse 18)? The Lord wanted the joy to come to him all at once: first he would be free, and then he would realize what had happened. The fact that the chains fell off his hands is also a strong proof that he had not simply escaped.

“And when he had thought the matter over, he came to the house of Mary the mother of John, whose other name was Mark, where many had gathered together and were praying” (verse 12). Notice how Peter does not go off at once, but first brings the good news to his friends. “And when Peter knocked at the door of the gateway, a servant girl named Rhoda came to answer. And when she recognized Peter’s voice, in her gladness she did not open the gate” — notice how full of devotion even the servant girls are! — “but ran in and reported that Peter was standing at the gate” (verses 13 to 15). But they, though it was so, shook their heads in disbelief:

“And they said to her, You are out of your mind. But she kept insisting that it was so. And they said, It is his angel. But Peter kept on knocking; and when they had opened the door and saw him, they were astonished. But he motioned to them with his hand to be quiet, and told them how the Lord had brought him out of the prison. And he said, Tell these things to James and to the brothers. And he left and went to another place” (verses 16 and 17). But let us go over the order of the narrative again. [b]

“At that time,” it says, “Herod the king stretched out his hands to harm some of the church” (verse 1). Like a wild animal, he attacked everyone without distinction and without thought. This is what Christ said: “You will indeed drink my cup, and with the baptism with which I am baptized you will be baptized” (Mark 10, verse 39). “And he killed James the brother of John” (verse 2). There was also another James, the brother of the Lord; so, to distinguish him, he says, “the brother of John.” Do you notice that the whole of affairs rested on these three, Peter and James especially?

And how was it that he did not kill Peter at once? It gives the reason: “it was the days of Unleavened Bread,” and he wanted rather to make a public show of killing him. “And when he saw that it pleased the Jews” (verse 3). For their own part, the Jews now held back from bloodshed because of Gamaliel’s advice. Besides, they no longer even made up accusations; instead, they got the same results through others. This advice of Gamaliel was above all what condemned them, for it showed that the preaching was no longer a merely human thing.

“He went further, to kill Peter as well” (verse 3). Truly this was fulfilled: “We are counted as sheep for the slaughter” (Psalm 44, verse 22; Romans 8, verse 36). “Seeing,” it says, “that it was pleasing to the Jews.” Pleasing to them! Bloodshed, unjust bloodshed, wickedness, ungodliness! He served their senseless cravings. When he ought to have done the opposite and checked their rage, he made them more eager, as though he were an executioner and not a physician to their diseased minds. And he did this though he had countless warnings in the cases of both his grandfather and his father Herod: how the first, for putting the children to death, suffered the greatest disasters, and how the second, by killing John, stirred up a grievous war against himself.

But, as they thought, he was afraid that Peter would slip away after the killing of James; and wanting to keep him safe, he put him in prison, “and handed him over to four squads of four soldiers” (verse 4). The stricter the guard, the more wonderful the display. “So Peter was kept in prison” (verse 5). But this was all the better for Peter, who by it was proved more worthy and showed his own manly courage.

And it says, “earnest prayer was being made.” It was the prayer of children’s love: it was for a father they were asking, and a gentle father. “There was,” it says, “earnest prayer.” Hear how they felt toward their teachers! No factions, no turmoil; they turned to prayer, to that alliance which truly cannot be beaten. To this they fled for refuge. They did not say, “What? Am I, a poor, insignificant creature, to pray for him?” For since they acted out of love, they gave no thought to such things. And notice that it was during the feast that their enemies brought these trials on them, so that their worth might be proved all the more.

“And when Herod,” and so on (verse 6). See Peter sleeping, and not in distress or fear! On that same night, after which he was to be brought out, he slept, having thrown everything on God (compare First Peter 5, verse 7).

“Between two soldiers, bound with two chains.” Notice how strict the guard was! “And he says, Get up” (verse 7). The guards were asleep beside him, and so they noticed nothing of what was happening. [i]

“And a light shone.” What was the light for? So that Peter might see as well as hear, and not imagine it was all his fancy. And the command, “Get up quickly,” was so that he would not be slow. The angel also struck him, so deeply was he sleeping. “Get up,” he says, “quickly”: this is not to fluster him, but to persuade him not to delay. And at once “his chains fell off his hands.” How? Answer me! Where are the heretics? Let them answer.

“And the angel said to him,” and so on (verse 8). By this too he convinced him that it was no fancy. That is why he tells him to fasten his belt and put on his shoes: so that he might shake off his sleep and know that it is real. “And he did not know that what was done by the angel was real, but thought he was seeing a vision” (verse 9). He might well think so, because of the overwhelming greatness of the things taking place. Do you see what it means for a miracle to be overwhelming? How it astounds the one who sees it? How it will not let the thing be believed? For if Peter “thought he was seeing a vision,” even though he had fastened his belt and put on his shoes, what would have happened with anyone else?

“And when they had passed the first and the second guard,” it says, “they came to the iron gate, which opened for them by itself” (verse 10). And yet the things that had happened inside the prison were more marvelous; this was now more in the ordinary human way.

“And they went out and went along one street, and at once the angel left him” (verse 11). When there was no longer any obstacle, then the angel left; for Peter could not have gone forward with so many obstacles in the way. “And when he came to himself”: for it truly was a state of amazement. [j]

“Now,” he says, “I know” — now, not then, when I was in the prison — “that the Lord has sent his angel and has rescued me from the hand of Herod and from all that the Jewish people were expecting. And when he had thought it over” (verse 12), it says: that is, thought where he was, or that he must not simply go away without more ado, but must repay his Benefactor. “He came to the house of Mary the mother of John.” Who is this John? Probably the one who was always with them. That is why he adds his distinguishing name, “whose other name was Mark.”

But notice that they were “praying” in the night. How much they gained by it! What a good thing affliction is! How wakeful it made them! Do you see how great a gain came from the death of Stephen? Do you see how great a benefit came from this imprisonment? For God does not show the greatness of the good news by taking vengeance on those who wronged them. Rather, in the wrongdoers themselves, without any harm coming to them, he shows what a mighty thing afflictions are in themselves, so that we may not seek in any way to be delivered from them, or to avenge the wrongs done to us. And notice how even the servant girls were from then on the equals of the others.

“In her joy,” it says, “she did not open” (verses 13 and 14). This too was well done: so that they, likewise, would not be overwhelmed by seeing him all at once, and so that they would be slow to believe and their minds would be exercised. “But ran in,” and so on. Just as we usually do, she was eager to be the one to bring the good news herself; and good news it truly was. [k]

“And they said to her, You are out of your mind. But she kept insisting that it was so. Then they said, It is his angel” (verse 15). This is true: each person has an angel. And what would the angel be doing there? They guessed this because of the hour of the night. But when he “kept on knocking, and they had opened and saw him, they were astonished. But he motioned to them with his hand” (verses 16 and 17), and made them keep quiet, so that they could hear everything that had happened to him. The disciples longed for him all the more tenderly now, not only because he had been saved, but because he came in on them suddenly and left again at once. Now his friends learn everything clearly; and outsiders could learn it too, if they had a mind to, but they had not. The same thing happened in the case of Christ.

“Tell these things,” he says, “to James and to the brothers.” How free of all empty glory! He did not say, “Make these things known to people everywhere,” but, “to the brothers.” “And he went off to another place.” For he did not put God to the test or throw himself into trial. When they were commanded to do this, then they did it: “Go,” it was said, “speak in the temple to the people” (Acts 5, verse 20). But the angel did not say this here. On the contrary, by removing him silently and bringing him out by night, he gave him full permission to withdraw, so that he would not fall into danger again. And this too is done so that we may learn that many things are brought about by God’s providence in a human way.

So that they could not say after he had gone, “It was his angel,” they say this first, and then they see him in person overthrowing their idea of the matter. If it had been the angel, would he have knocked at the door? Would he have gone off to another place? And what happened in the daytime made them certain.

“So Peter was kept in the prison,” and so on (verse 5). They, who were free, were at prayer; he, in chains, was asleep. “And he did not know that it was real” (verse 9). If he had thought that what was happening was real, he would have been astonished, and would not have remembered all the details. But as it was, seeming to be in a dream, he was free of agitation. “When,” it says, “they had passed the first and the second guard” — see also how strong the guard was — “they came to the iron gate” (verse 10). “Now I know that the Lord has sent his angel” (verse 11).

Why is this not done by the apostles themselves? I answer: by this too the Lord honors them, that he rescues them through the service of his angels. Then why was it not so in the case of Paul? There it was with good reason, because the jailer was to be converted, whereas here the only point was that the apostle should be released (Acts 16, verse 25). God arranges all things in various ways. And there too it is a beautiful thing that Paul sings hymns, while here Peter was asleep.

“And when he had thought it over, he came to the house of Mary,” and so on (verse 12). So let us not hide God’s wonders, but for our own good let us make a point of making them known, to build up others. For just as he deserves admiration for choosing to be put in chains, so he is worthy of still more admiration because he did not go away until he had told his friends everything.

“And he said, Tell James and the brothers” (verse 17): so that they may rejoice, so that they may not be anxious. They learn it through these people, not these people through him. Such was his thought for the humbler members! [l]

Truly, nothing is better than affliction in due measure. What do you think their state of mind must have been? How full of delight! Where now are those women who sleep the whole night through? Where are those men who do not even turn over in their beds? Do you see the watchful soul? With women and children and maidservants they sang hymns to God, made purer than the sky by affliction. But now, if we see a little danger, we shrink back. Nothing was ever more splendid than that church. Let us imitate them; let us rival them.

The night was not made for this, that we should sleep all through it and be idle. The craftsmen, the carriers and the merchants bear witness to this; so does the church of God, rising up in the middle of the night. You too, get up, and look at the choir of the stars, the deep silence, the profound rest. Contemplate with awe the ordering of your Master’s household. Then your soul is purer; it is lighter and finer, and it soars up free of everything. The darkness itself and the deep silence are enough to lead you to heartfelt sorrow.

And if you also look up at the sky studded with its stars as with ten thousand eyes, and if you reflect that all those multitudes who in the daytime are shouting, laughing, frolicking, leaping, cheating, grabbing, threatening, and inflicting wrongs without number are now lying there no different from the dead, you will condemn all human self-will. Sleep has invaded nature and defeated it: it is the image of death, the image of the end of all things. If you look out of the window and lean over into the street, you will not hear even a sound; if you look into the house, you will see everyone lying as if in a tomb. All this is enough to rouse the soul and lead it to think about the end of all things.

Here my words are meant for men and women alike. Bend your knees, groan aloud, beg your Master to be merciful. He is moved more by prayers in the night, when you make the time for rest a time for mourning. Remember what words that king spoke: “I am weary with my groaning; every night I will wash my bed, I will drench my couch with my tears” (Psalm 6, verse 6). However soft a life you may lead, you are not softer than he; however rich you may be, you are not richer than David. And again the same psalmist says, “At midnight I rose to give thanks to you for the judgments of your righteousness” (Psalm 119, verse 62). [n]

Then empty glory does not creep in on you. How could it, when everyone is asleep and no one is looking at you? Then neither laziness nor drowsiness overcomes you. How could they, when your soul is roused by such great things? After vigils like these come sweet sleep and wonderful revelations.

Do this — you, the man, as well, not only the woman. Let your house be a church, made up of men and women. Do not think it is any hindrance that you are the only man there, or that she is the only woman. “For where two,” he says, “are gathered together in my name, there I am in the midst of them” (Matthew 18, verse 20). Where Christ is in the midst, there is a great multitude. Where Christ is, angels must be there too, and archangels too, and the other powers. So you are not alone, since you have him who is Lord of all. Hear the prophet, too, saying, “Better is one who does the will of the Lord than ten thousand lawbreakers” (compare Sirach 16, verse 3). Nothing is weaker than a crowd of unrighteous people; nothing is stronger than one man who lives by the law of God.

If you have children, wake them up too, and let your whole house become a church through the night. But if they are young and cannot bear the watching, let them stay for the first or second prayer, and then send them to bed. Only rouse yourself, and settle yourself in the habit. Nothing is better than that storehouse which receives prayers like these. Hear the prophet saying, “If I remembered you on my bed, I thought of you at the break of dawn” (Psalm 63, verse 7).

But you will say: “I have worked hard all day, and I cannot.” That is a mere pretext and an excuse. However hard you have worked, you will not toil like the smith, who brings down so heavy a hammer from so great a height onto the metal, with the sparks flying off it, and takes in the smoke with his whole body; and yet he spends the greater part of the night at this work. You know too how the women stay awake the whole night, when we have to go out into the country or go out to a vigil.

So you too, have a spiritual forge, and fashion there not pots or cauldrons but your own soul, which is far better than anything a coppersmith or goldsmith can fashion. Your soul has grown old in sins: throw it into the smelting furnace of confession. Bring the hammer down from on high, that is, the condemnation of your words. Light the fire of the Spirit. Your craft is far mightier than theirs. You are beating into shape not vessels of gold but the soul, which is more precious than all gold, just as the smith hammers out his vessel. For it is no material vessel you are working on; you are freeing your soul from all the imaginings that belong to this life. Let a lamp stand beside you: not the one we burn, but the one the prophet had when he said, “Your law is a lamp to my feet” (Psalm 119, verse 105). Bring your soul to a red heat by prayer; when you see it is hot enough, draw it out and shape it into whatever form you like. Believe me, fire does not burn off rust as effectively as night prayer removes the rust of our sins.

Let the night watchmen shame us, if no one else does. By human law they make their rounds in the cold, shouting loudly and walking through lanes and alleys, often drenched with rain and frozen stiff with cold, for you, for your safety and for the protection of your property. There he is, taking such care of your property, while you take none even for your soul. And yet I am not making you go your rounds in the open air like him, or shout loudly and strain your sides. No: in your inner room itself, or in your bedroom, bend your knees and plead with your Lord.

Why did Christ himself spend a whole night on the mountain? Was it not so that he might be an example to us? It is then, at night I mean, that plants breathe; and then too the soul takes in the dew even more than they do. What the sun has parched by day becomes cool again at night. More refreshing than any dew, the tears of the night fall on our cravings and on all the heat and fever of the soul, and do not let it suffer any such harm. But if it does not enjoy the benefit of that dew, it will be burned up in the daytime. Far from it! Rather, may we all, refreshed and enjoying the mercy of God, be freed from the burden of our sins, through the grace and mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might and honor, now and always, forever and ever. Amen.