And having become clearly conscious [in himself], he came to the house of Mary, the mother of John who was surnamed Mark, where were many gathered together and praying.
The night Peter walked free from prison, he did not look for a hiding place — he went to a house where people were praying for him. That address shows how the first Christians met, what they did in danger, and who grew up in that home.
Jerusalem already held thousands of believers. Where did they all meet?
There must have been very many groups of Christian Jews in Jerusalem. By now they numbered thousands. Large buildings set apart for the assembly seem to have been unknown at that time.
Mary is remembered for what she did with her house. One writer sets her beside other women whose service Scripture records:
Dorcas did a good work in making clothes for the poor. Mary, the mother of John Mark, opened her house for many to gather together in prayer. Lydia, whose heart the Lord opened, did a good work when she opened her house to the servants of the Lord.
Peter was in prison and beyond human help. What did the believers do?
The refuge of the faithful is in prayer. They had come together to ask God for the preservation of Peter, and God had heard their prayer. They did not know how, but they had put trust in God. It seemed to be the natural resource of the hearts of these believers; and the feeling was a common one.
Peter arrived at an hour when no one would expect a house to be awake.
The deep earnestness of these believers shows in this: they were before God at that unusual hour when Peter appeared on the scene.
The verse turns on one word: Peter realized. Only when he was sure the rescue was real did he move.
Then Peter realised his deliverance. Fully aware of it all, he went to Mary's house. Many had gathered there to pray — we surely cannot doubt it — for the very man who was knocking at the door. All through his account Luke presents the truth vividly, and he in no way hides how small the believers' faith was. They could hardly have forgotten how the Lord's angel had opened the prison doors before this and brought the apostles out, when the jealous high priest and his party had put them in public custody. Faith remembers, but it also takes hold for the need of the moment.
Does God still act like this? One writer draws a careful line:
I do not believe that miracles happen today. Angels no longer appear. It was not a gift that could continue. But I fully believe, according to the Lord's promise, that God hears prayer. The angels work for the children of God as much now as in those early times. There is one condition, however: what we ask must be according to the will of God, and we must pray in faith.
The verse names the son of the house: John Mark. One writer asks what that home did for him.
Could it be significant that Mark grew up in an atmosphere of prayer? … That was clearly not the first prayer meeting held in that house.
The verse gives him two names. His later record was uneven, which makes the ending all the more remarkable:
Mark was a common Roman first name. His Jewish name was John. He was converted through Peter. Right at the start of his Christian life, Barnabas (his relative) and Paul took him with them on their missionary travels. He thought he could take up and put down God's work as he liked. He left the two leaders to carry on by themselves, while he went off home again. … Most of us, perhaps, would have thought it best to leave Mark alone after that. It comes as quite a surprise, then, that in the end he received the high honour of writing one of the four Gospels.
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- House. Mary is remembered for one thing: she opened her home. Jerusalem had no church buildings, so houses held the thousands who believed.
- Habit. Prayer was not an emergency measure. It was the natural instinct of these believers, and that house had seen prayer meetings before.
- Earnestness. They were still praying at the odd hour when Peter knocked. The hour itself shows how much they meant it.
- Weakness. Luke does not hide how small their faith was, and God answered them anyway.
- Harvest. A boy raised in that praying house walked out on God's work, and still ended up writing one of the four Gospels.
And when he had knocked at the door of the entry, a maid came to listen, by name Rhoda;
Peter has just walked out of prison. The first door he reaches is his friends' door. Inside, they are still praying for him — and the girl who answers his knock never opens it.
One writer follows what Rhoda did at the gate — and what she failed to do:
Arriving there he knocks, and Rhoda, the doorkeeper, going to ask who was at the "door of the gate" — the small gate into the courtyard — hears his voice. She is so overwhelmed with gladness that she does not let the apostle in at once — as a more sensible girl would have done. Instead she runs back into the house to tell the others that God had answered their prayers, and that Peter was standing before the gate. Sadly, faith and eagerness are not always combined.
Rhoda knew Peter before anyone saw him. The voice at the gate was enough:
Then Peter realised his deliverance. Fully aware of it all, he went to Mary's house. Many had met there for prayer — we can hardly doubt — about the very man who knocked at the door. The maid Rhoda (or as we would say, Rose) recognised the well-known voice. It was not fear but joy that sent her running back to tell the news that Peter was standing outside.
A servant girl is an unlikely person for Scripture to name. One writer suggests why she is named here:
When God had answered their prayers, they were reluctant to believe it. Not one of the company believed that Peter was free. Rhoda was the one who believed that it was Peter. This is undoubtedly why the book records her name. The poor maid, perhaps a slave girl, pleased God because she had faith. There was great earnestness in that prayer meeting, but when the answer came, unbelief showed itself.
Notice the two doors in this scene:
Sometimes we get a swift return to our prayers — "On the day I called, you answered me." The church were at God's door, praying for Peter's deliverance. At the same time Peter is knocking at their door, to tell them their prayer is heard.
The doors that should have held Peter gave way. The door that should have welcomed him did not:
All the prison doors had opened for him. Yet at the house of John Mark's mother, Peter found himself shut out behind closed doors. Inside, poor Rhoda's fellow believers were calling her mad. All this because the power of prayer was such that its results went beyond the boldest expectations even of those who had prayed those very prayers!
The company inside had prayed earnestly. They still could not take the answer when it stood at the gate. The way we talk about our own answered prayers can give us away too:
In Acts 12 we find that when Peter was thrown into prison, "earnest prayer for him was made to God by the church." Then God answered them. Rhoda told the praying company that Peter was at the gate, and they said to her, "You are out of your mind." When she pressed it on them, they allowed that it might be his angel. At last the gate opened and they saw him, and "they were amazed." What a sad tale of unbelief it is when we look so little for an answer to prayer that we are amazed when it comes, and call it "a remarkable answer."
- Knock — Every prison door opened for Peter. The one door that stayed shut was the door of praying friends.
- Voice — Rhoda knew Peter by his voice, before anyone saw him. Joy, not fear, sent her running back inside.
- Faith — Scripture names her because she alone in that house believed the answer had come. A servant girl's faith pleased God.
- Gap — They prayed with real earnestness, yet they expected far less than God gave.
- Test — Calling an answered prayer "remarkable" measures our faith, not God's kindness.
and having recognised the voice of Peter, through joy did not open the entry, but running in, reported that Peter was standing before the entry.
Peter has walked out of a guarded prison, and now he stands knocking at an ordinary front gate in Jerusalem. The servant girl who answers knows his voice at once, and in her joy she runs to tell the praying household — leaving Peter outside.
Rhoda's job was to answer the door. Her reaction to the voice she heard was the opposite of what her job required.
When Peter arrives he knocks. Rhoda, the doorkeeper, goes to ask who is at the door of the gate — the small gate into the courtyard — and hears his voice. She was so overwhelmed with gladness that she did not let the apostle in at once, as a more sensible girl would have done. Instead she ran back into the house to tell the others about the answer to their prayers, and that Peter "was standing at the gate." Sadly, faith and eagerness are not always found together.
Fear would have been a natural reaction to a knock at that hour. One writer names what moved her instead.
Then Peter realized his deliverance. Fully aware of everything, he went to Mary's house, where many were praying — surely we cannot doubt — about the very man who knocked at the door. It was not fear but joy that moved the servant girl Rhoda (or as we would say, Rose). She recognised the well-known voice and ran back with the news that Peter was standing outside. Luke, who all through presents the truth vividly, in no way hides the small faith of the believers. They could hardly have forgotten how the Lord's angel had once before opened the prison doors and brought out the apostles, when the jealous high priest and his party had put them in public custody. Faith takes hold for present need as well as remembers.
God opened every barrier Herod had built. Then Peter met a shut door at the house of his own friends.
Neither guards nor iron gates do their work, and Peter, only half awake, finds himself free. All the prison doors had opened for him. But at the house of John Mark's mother, Peter finds himself behind closed doors, while her fellow believers inside accuse poor Rhoda of being mad. And all because the power of prayer was such that its results went beyond the boldest expectations even of those who prayed!
Scripture records this servant's name. One writer finds the reason in what she alone was willing to believe.
When God had answered their prayers they were reluctant to believe it. Not one of the company believed that Peter had been released. Rhoda was the one who believed that it was Peter. And this is undoubtedly the reason why her name is mentioned in this book. The poor servant girl, perhaps a slave, pleased God because she had faith. While there was great earnestness in that prayer meeting, when the prayer was answered, unbelief showed itself.
The very people who had prayed for Peter refused her report. She did not take it back.
Rhoda in Acts 12 recognised the apostle's voice. She could not be moved from her firm statement, even in the face of unbelief among her fellow believers. Remember again the moral tone of Luke's writings. Do we not see (without straining Scripture) how necessary it is to listen to what the apostles say in their writings? We need this if we are to stand firm in testimony to the truth in these days of error and turning away from the truth.
One writer reads their astonishment as a mirror, and he does not leave himself out of it.
Here were many of God's people crying to Him for one particular thing. When it was granted, they were astonished. Sadly, our faith is often so weak that God's answer to our prayer surprises us. If we were only truly simple and right before Him, the surprise would be if the answer were not quick in coming.
- Voice. She recognised Peter before she ever saw him. The familiar sound told her God had answered the prayer.
- Joy. Gladness, not fear, took over. It was so complete that she forgot her one job at the gate.
- Gate. Prison chains and iron gates gave way for Peter; the door of the praying house was the last one to open.
- Witness. She alone believed. The room called her mad, and still she held to what she heard. That is likely why Scripture keeps her name.
- Answer. God did not give too little. He gave more than the people praying were ready to believe.
And they said to her, Thou art mad. But she maintained that it was so. And they said, It is his angel.
Believers are praying for Peter's release, and Peter himself is knocking at the door. Two questions follow: why did they refuse to believe their own answer, and what did they mean by "his angel"?
They had asked God for this very thing. When He did it, the news struck them as impossible.
Herod had his prisoner in the hands of sixteen soldiers, in chains and behind bars and bolts... All these things were as nothing before the angel, and Peter was conducted out to freedom. Many were still praying in the house of Mary, mother of Mark and sister of Barnabas. Peter took himself there. They were still begging God to free Peter when the freed man knocked at the door. Look! The answer to their prayer was there. They could hardly believe it, and in this they were very like ourselves. God's answer went beyond their faith.
The gap was not in God's power but in what the prayers themselves expected.
All the prison doors had opened for him. But when he reached the house of John Mark's mother, Peter found himself behind closed doors. Inside, her fellow believers were accusing poor Rhoda of being mad. All this because the power of prayer was such that its results went beyond the boldest expectations even of those praying!
Rhoda brought a true report, and they insulted her for it. Notice what they did not do next.
"You are out of your mind" was the first answer that those praying at the throne of grace gave the messenger. She had only told them that God had heard their prayers and answered them. She "kept insisting that it was so." The others did not go out to the gate to see whether the report was true. Instead they argued, "It is his angel." They evidently thought Rhoda had seen some ghostly figure that looked like Peter, or that his representative angel (see Matt. 18:10) had visited her.
Scripture keeps her name, and one writer sees a reason for that.
Not one of the company believed that Peter had been released. Rhoda was the one who believed that it was Peter. And this is undoubtedly the reason why her name is mentioned in this book. The poor maid, perhaps a slave girl, pleased God because she had faith. There was great earnestness in that prayer meeting. But when God answered the prayer, unbelief showed itself.
Commentators differ here. One reading takes it as Peter's spirit — which means the group had already written him off as dead.
They would not believe her, though they had been praying constantly for him. When she insisted, they thought it must have been his "angel," that is, his spirit. They did not expect that he could be delivered, so they concluded that he had been killed!
"Angel" was used of a human representative. For instance, John the Baptist once sent two of his disciples. These men represented his mind when they gave the message of the one who sent them (Luke 7:24). The same representative sense appears in Acts 12:15, only here it was of a spiritual character. It appears in Matthew 18:10 too.
A third view reads the angel as Peter's guardian. One writer finds a problem with it.
People commonly take this passage in Acts to imply the Jewish idea of guardian angels as well. But the two hardly seem able to fit together. Why should a guardian angel take on Peter's voice, so as to be mistaken for him?
Whatever they meant, one writer warns against building a doctrine of personal guardian angels on this verse.
Scripture does not support the thought of special guardian angels. They are all ministering spirits.
Luke could have left this detail out. He did not.
Luke presents the truth vividly all through, and he in no way hides the weak faith of the believers. They could hardly have forgotten how God's angel had opened prison doors before.
- Pray. The believers prayed with great earnestness, and God answered — Peter walked out past sixteen soldiers, chains, bars and bolts.
- Expect. Their fault was not in praying but in not looking for the answer; God's answer went beyond their faith.
- Listen. A servant girl brought the true report. The people whose prayer she reported called her mad.
- Weigh. "It is his angel" may mean Peter's spirit, so they assumed he was dead. Or it may mean his representative, the sense also found in Matthew 18:10.
- Learn. Scripture records their weak faith instead of hiding it. We see ourselves in them, and we stop being surprised when God answers.
But Peter continued knocking and having opened, they saw him and were astonished.
A group of believers had been praying for Peter, and now the answer stood outside the gate, knocking. The verse turns on a strange gap. The man they had asked God for was already free, yet the house stayed shut. When the door opened, they were amazed instead of expectant.
Peter walked out of prison without trouble. The one place he could not get into was the home of the people praying for him.
All the prison doors had opened for him. But when he reached the house of John Mark's mother, Peter found himself behind closed doors. Inside, poor Rhoda's fellow believers were accusing her of being mad. All this happened because the power of prayer was such that its results went beyond the boldest expectations even of the people who were praying.
Rhoda had said Peter was at the gate, and no one believed her. The sound that kept coming from outside settled the argument for her.
"But Peter continued knocking" — a clear proof that what Rhoda said was true. So at last they either calmed down or got past their disbelief. They went to the gate, and "when they opened, they saw him and were amazed."
The word for their reaction is the heart of the verse. They had prayed for exactly this, and still it stunned them.
While they were still begging God for Peter's release, the released man knocked at the door. Look — the answer to their prayer was there. They could hardly believe it, and in this they were very much like ourselves. God's answer went beyond their faith.
Wolston turns this on our own praying. Surprise, he argues, is the wrong way round:
If we did not know our own hearts, we would be inclined to wonder at all this. Here were many of God's people crying to Him for one thing in particular. When He granted it, they were "amazed." Sadly, our faith is often so weak that God's answer to our prayer surprises us. If we were only truly simple and right before Him, the surprise would be if the answer were not quick in coming.
Luke could have left the embarrassing detail out. He did not, and the timing of the rescue is set against the small faith of those who asked for it.
Meanwhile the assembly made earnest prayer... Deliverance was at hand, which the church scarcely expected any more than the king feared it. As usual, it came just before the critical moment... Luke, who all the way through tells the truth vividly, in no way hides the small faith of the saints. They could hardly have forgotten how the Lord's angel had once before opened the prison doors and brought out the apostles, when the envious high priest and his party had put them in public custody. Faith takes hold of God for the present need; it does not only remember.
The picture the verse leaves is of a company still at prayer while the thing prayed for waits on the step.
Sometimes we get a quick return on our prayers — "In the day that I cried, You answered me." While the church were at God's door praying for Peter's release, Peter is knocking at theirs, to tell them their prayer is heard.
The praying group got a "yes" and did not recognise it. That leaves a direct question for anyone who prays.
When God answered the determined prayers of the saints, they did not believe He had said "yes." Are we ready for when the answer comes? Is it in line with what we have requested?
- Prayer. The church prayed earnestly, late at night. Rescue came so near the last moment that they hardly expected it — no more than the king feared it.
- Answer. God's answer went beyond their faith. The man they asked for was already knocking while they were still asking.
- Door. Every prison door had opened. The one door still shut was the door of the praying house, closed by their own disbelief.
- Knocking. Peter's continued knocking was the proof that Rhoda's report was true, and it forced them at last to open and look.
- Amazed. Their amazement is the warning in the verse. If we were simple and right before God, the surprise would be an answer that did not come quickly. The real question is whether we are ready when the "yes" arrives.
And having made a sign to them with his hand to be silent, he related [to them] how the Lord had brought him out of prison; and he said, Report these things to James and to the brethren. And he went out and went to another place.
Peter walks free from Herod's prison, knocks at the door of a house full of praying friends, and stays only long enough to speak. He sends a report to James, and then the record loses sight of him. Who was this James? Where did Peter go, and why did he leave so fast?
The room was loud. Peter had to raise his hand for quiet before anyone could hear him.
Peter's entrance among the gathered believers clearly had a great effect, and many voices spoke at once. No doubt the top question in every mind, and maybe on every lip, was — "How did you ever get out, Peter?"
He told them what the Lord had done. It was the very thing they had been praying for, yet they could not believe it when it came.
Here it is worth noting a few points. The refuge of believers is in prayer. They had come together to ask God for the preservation of Peter, and God had heard their prayer. They did not know how, but they had put their trust in God... Peter is set free, just as they wanted. But look how little the heart believes that its requests will be granted. By grace it may have confidence in God and turn to Him in its need — and still it does not believe.
Earlier in Acts, Peter had stood in the temple and preached openly after a miracle. This time he slips away instead — and the difference is deliberate.
The testimony had already been given in full, even in the temple. There was no command now to stand and speak there "all the words of this life." They had heard the gospel of Him risen and glorified, and had despised it. He was the One they had rejected and crucified. So Peter was not to make a similar stand now, though the miracle was just as great. Instead he kept the Lord's ordinary rule: when persecuted in one city, flee to the next. That is what he does here, after explaining everything to the astonished company.
Freedom did not mean safety.
Though Peter was free, the danger of his position was much clearer to him than to his friends. So he wisely withdrew to a more secret and safer place.
The James of this verse cannot be the James of verse 2 — Herod had already had him killed.
Herod had killed the James who was John's brother and the son of Zebedee, early on (Acts 12:2). So it is probably right to assume that this is the James who took a leading place among the Jewish believers at Jerusalem (Acts 12:17; Acts 15:13; Acts 21:18; Galatians 2:12).
That place at Jerusalem was real. But it looked nothing like the office of a bishop.
Scripture could not give stronger evidence against one man holding superior authority in the churches. The nearest thing to anything of that kind is James at Jerusalem... So we clearly have a man with great influence among the Jewish Christians, and it was not always a good influence... But in his history there is no trace of a bishop's oversight.
Scripture never names the place he went. One famous claim about it does not hold up.
That he went to Rome then, and began the first year of a twenty-five-year reign there as Pope, is the wildest of dreams. It has not a shred of Scripture proof, and everything Scripture does tell us sets it aside in the strongest way.
After this verse, Acts almost stops following Peter.
We read of Peter's deliverance from prison. Then he vanishes from sight, and Acts shows him no more, except at the memorable meeting in chapter 15... But where did he go after he left Jerusalem (Acts 12:17)? Where did he take himself after that exchange between Paul and him at Antioch (Gal. 2:11-21)? What did he do at Babylon, whatever place we understand by that name? All this is left a story untold.
- Prayer — The believers asked God to preserve Peter, God heard, and the answer arrived before their faith caught up with it.
- Praise — Peter quiets the room not to tell his own story but to describe how the Lord brought him out.
- Prudence — Jerusalem had already heard the testimony and refused it. So Peter keeps the Lord's ordinary rule and flees instead of making a public stand.
- Passing on — He sends word to James, who held a leading place among the believers at Jerusalem — real influence, but not a bishop's office.
- Passing off — Scripture never names the other place. Peter fades from the record, and the claim that he went to Rome to reign as Pope has no Scripture behind it.
And when it was day there was no small disturbance among the soldiers, what then was become of Peter.
When daylight came, Herod's soldiers found themselves guarding an empty space. Their confusion raises one question: what happens when human power meets a God who has already acted?
One writer walks through what the guards found that morning. No one had forced a door or touched the gate — and that was the problem.
The guards woke up to find Peter gone. Yet the chains that had bound him to them were still fastened to the two men guarding him. They could call the other guards, but none of them had seen Peter escape, even though he had walked right past them. None of them had helped him get away. Where was he? Should they check the great iron gate? It was locked tight, and no one had touched it. Still they could find no trace of the prisoner. Only one explanation of his escape made sense. Supernatural power must have been at work, because nothing showed that he had left in a hurry. His sandals, his belt and his outer coat had all disappeared. Again they might ask, where was he? The soldiers were in an uproar. Still they did not find the prisoner.
The stir was so great because the security had been so thorough.
Herod clearly planned his extreme precautions to make a second escape impossible for Peter. But Herod was leaving God out of his reckoning. What good were all his bolts, bars, guards, and "two chains" on his prisoner, if God stepped in?
One writer links the scene to an earlier sealed door that failed to hold:
But all men's precautions are useless when God asserts Himself. He who disposed of Pilate's stone and seal made short work of Herod's doors and guards.
The stir spread from the guardroom to the palace.
Someone told the king about Peter's mysterious disappearance. He searched for his prisoner, and he surely had all the Jewish authorities on his side, and probably much of the population too. But it was all useless: he could not find him. The Lord was clearly sheltering him. So the guards had to die. By the letter of the law they were guilty of carelessness, but they had really done nothing deserving death or even chains. Herod, beaten, left Jerusalem for Caesarea.
Commentators differ on the injustice that followed. One notes that "the only people who died the next day were the unfortunate soldiers responsible for Peter's safe keeping" (F. B. Hole). Another argues the sentence should never have been carried out. Roman policy held guards responsible for their prisoners, "yet the evidence of God's intervention was so clear that a fair-minded Herod would not have enforced the rule on this occasion" (Leslie M. Grant).
Earlier in the same chapter, this same king had killed James, the brother of John. The difference was not Herod's strength but God's timing.
But God's thoughts are not like man's. The Lord had already shown by what death Peter would glorify God, but that time had not yet come: "When you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will dress you and carry you where you do not want to go." Herod meant to do more than imprison Peter. He meant to bring him before the people, perhaps to sentence him, and certainly to execute him as a public example. But the Passover got in the way.
The same writer weighs the two outcomes: "If God was magnified in the death of James, He would be magnified more in keeping Peter alive, whatever the people or their rulers wanted" (William Kelly).
One writer draws out what all this means for anyone facing a situation that looks closed:
The story teaches us a wonderful lesson about prayer: it is effective, and its power prevails over everything. It should indeed encourage us to wait on God in united, persevering, believing prayer. No case could seem more hopeless. God was enough for it. Is He changed? Not one bit. What we want is more faith in Him, and more urgency before Him.
The people praying were as surprised as the soldiers. When Peter knocked at the door, "they could hardly believe it, and in this they were very like ourselves. God's answer went beyond their faith" (F. B. Hole).
- Precaution. Herod piled up bolts, bars, guards and two chains to make a second escape impossible. He left God out of his reckoning.
- Power. Chains still fastened, gate still locked, prisoner gone. Only one explanation was left: supernatural power had been at work.
- Purpose. James died and Peter lived because God's timing decided it, not Herod's strength. The Lord had already shown by what death Peter would one day glorify God.
- Pursuit. Herod searched with the authorities behind him and still could not find Peter. The innocent guards paid with their lives, and the beaten king left the city.
- Prayer. No case could look more hopeless, yet God was enough for it. He has not changed. What we lack is faith and urgency.
And Herod having sought him and not found him, having examined the guards, commanded [them] to be executed. And he went down from Judaea to Caesarea and stayed [there].
Peter is gone from a guarded prison, and the king who locked him up cannot find him. Herod questions the guards, has them killed, and then leaves Judea for Caesarea — the moves of a man who still believes he is in charge.
Herod had the power of the state and the Jewish leaders on his side. He still could not find one man, because Peter was not the one doing the hiding.
News of his mysterious disappearance reached the king. He sought for his prisoner, and surely he had all the Jewish authorities, with many of the people probably, on his side. But all in vain: he could not be found. The Lord evidently sheltered him. So the guards had to die. They were guilty of carelessness in the letter of the law, though innocent of any crime deserving death or prison. Herod, defeated in this way, left Jerusalem for Caesarea.
Herod had planned for Peter the same end another apostle had already met. Denied it, he turned on the men nearest at hand.
It is beautiful to note the ways of God with His servants, already traceable in this short book. Now, one apostle is killed with the sword. Another is delivered by the Lord's angel, on the eve of a similar plan by the king. If we are to believe Josephus, this king was usually mild toward the people. That mildness did not stop him from extreme persecution of the truth when his religious zeal and his political vanity were offended. And his frustration burst out on the guards without mercy, as we learn in verses 18 and 19. Yet not a shred of evidence pointed to any guilty co-operation on their part in the prisoner's escape. No wonder he saw fit to go down from Judea to Caesarea.
Rome's own rules stood behind the sentence. The facts of this case did not.
Herod, frustrated by all this, examined the keepers and gave orders for their execution. It was true that Rome enforced its policy of making guards fully responsible for the prisoners put in their charge, with death as the penalty for failure. Yet the evidence of God's intervention was so clear that you would expect a fair-minded Herod not to enforce it here. Evidently no one made a fresh effort to find and arrest Peter.
God had taken Peter out of Herod's hands. Killing the guards was Herod's way of refusing to admit it.
In killing his soldiers, Herod showed plainly that he refused to see the hand of God in Peter's deliverance from his power. And in accepting the praise of the people of Tyre and Sidon, he took the tribute that belonged to God alone (Acts 12). It was then that God, in His government, laid His hand on the proud Herod, bringing him down in death.
Herod goes down from Judea to Caesarea, yet Caesarea stood inside the Judea Rome had marked out. The name covers different areas in different passages.
In the New Testament the name sometimes refers to a much larger district… Acts 12:19 speaks of Herod going down from Judea to Caesarea. Yet Caesarea would be part of the Judea of the Romans. In Galatians 1:22 and 1 Thessalonians 2:14 Paul speaks of the "churches of Judea." That would seem to include the whole of Palestine. The context will nearly always show the extent of the district intended.
Herod settled at Caesarea, and that is where his story ends. The move did not take him out of God's reach.
He was in God's safe keeping, so that though Herod sought for him, he did not find him. After that he was disappointed in his bloodthirsty scheme, in which Peter was to have played such a prominent part. So he took out his anger on the keepers of the prison. Then, going to Caesarea soon afterwards, he died under the severe judgment of God from a most terrible disease. Most men breathe their last and are then eaten by worms. Of Herod the Holy Spirit records that he "was eaten by worms and breathed his last." Then, in striking contrast with the passing character of all this wicked man's earthly greatness, He at once adds, "But the word of God increased and multiplied."
- Sheltered. Herod searched with every advantage on his side and found nothing. The Lord was sheltering Peter.
- Sentenced. Roman practice made guards answerable with their lives. Yet God's hand was so plain here that a fair-minded king would have spared them.
- Refused. Killing the soldiers was Herod's way of denying what had happened. His anger struck his own men, not his intended victim.
- Removed. He went down from Judea to Caesarea — a change of address, not a change of position before God.
- Reversed. Herod's greatness ended in a loathsome death; the word of God he tried to silence kept growing.
And he was in bitter hostility with [the] Tyrians and Sidonians; but they came to him with one accord, and, having gained Blastus the king's chamberlain, sought peace, because their country was nourished by the king's.
Herod has just executed James and lost Peter. He has punished the guards, and now he leaves Jerusalem for the coast. Verse 20 finds him angry with Tyre and Sidon. How those two cities buy their way back into his favour sets up the last scene of his life.
Herod could not hold Peter. His first response was to punish the men who had guarded him.
Now one apostle is killed with the sword. Another is rescued by Jehovah's angel, just as the king was planning the same end for him. According to Josephus, this king was usually mild toward his people. That did not stop him persecuting the truth to the limit when his religious zeal and his political vanity were offended. His anger then burst out on the guards, as verses 18 and 19 show. Yet there was not the slightest evidence that they had any guilty part in the prisoner's escape. No wonder he thought it best to go down from Judea to Caesarea.
The New Testament calls him only "Herod the king." His short reign explains why two cities were so anxious about his mood.
He killed James the brother of John with the sword, and because he saw it pleased the Jews he seized Peter also. This happened about A.D. 43. Within a year the king let people call him a god, and the Almighty struck him down. He died a miserable death.
The ESV says they "persuaded Blastus, the king's chamberlain." The Greek verb behind that word is worth a closer look.
Acts 12:20 illustrates the verb, which in this connection means "to gain over" or "make a friend of."
Blastus was the king's personal attendant, and the cities went to him first.
Residents of Tyre and Sidon, north of Caesarea, wanting to calm Herod's displeasure toward them, use the influence of Herod's chamberlain. We are told that they wanted a reconciliation simply out of selfish motives. They came on an appointed day to hear a speech from Herod. They knew his proud vanity well.
Their food came from Herod's land, so they had to keep him happy. The same flattery soon came from a crowd, and it ended his story.
These scenes are as full of interest as they are of deep instruction about man's dealings with God. The church's prayers were answered beyond their faith. The tyrant himself was struck down at the very moment he accepted the crowd's worship of him as a god. The man who did not give the glory to God was given up to worms, even before he gave up his life. "But the word of God grew and multiplied."
Herod went to the coast as the ruler everyone had to please. The chapter ends by showing who the real ruler is.
Herod is baffled by the power of the One he resisted. He puts the men he used in his hatred to death, and goes away to the Gentile seat of his power. There he displays his glory and accepts the flattering homage of the people, as though he were a god. God Himself strikes him down, and shows that He is the governor of this world, however great the pride of man.
The applause that followed the speech was the popular voice at its loudest — and its emptiest.
But the voice of the people is not always the voice of God: God struck him and the worms ate him. Outside, all glory and splendour; inside, loathsome corruption.
The persecution that opened the chapter simply stopped, and the work moved on.
Threats, imprisonments, martyrdoms did not stop the movement. And Herod's terrible end would certainly not encourage anyone to try again against the apostles. Persecution at Jerusalem then, as far as we know, ceased; and Barnabas and Saul could return unmolested to Antioch.
- Enmity — Herod reaches Caesarea already angry. James is dead, Peter is gone, and the guards died for a crime they did not commit.
- Bread — Tyre and Sidon ask for peace because they eat from his land. Hunger, not goodwill, drives the delegation.
- Flattery — They know his vanity, so they win over his chamberlain first. The Greek word means to gain a man over, to make a friend of him.
- Judgment — The king who fed them accepts the crowd's worship, and God strikes him. Outward splendour, inward corruption.
- The Word — Worms eat Herod; the word of God grows and multiplies. God feeds, and God governs.
And on a set day, clothed in royal apparel and sitting on the elevated seat [of honour], Herod made a public oration to them.
Acts 12 has already shown one apostle killed and another led out of prison past sleeping guards. Now the king himself takes the stage in royal robes, and one question hangs over the scene: what happens when a man takes the seat of honour and forgets who gave it to him?
The word behind "throne" here is the same one translated "judgment seat" elsewhere. One writer follows how far it reaches:
The word translated "judgment seat" means only a step or raised platform. Anyone exercising authority, or making a speech, might occupy it. It takes in "the great white throne," before which the dead are summoned for their final sentence. But it is a word of much wider meaning, and it does not necessarily, or even primarily, mean the seat of a judge at a criminal trial… It is used of the platform where Herod sat when he received the delegation from Tyre and Sidon (Acts 12:21), and there our translators render it "throne."
Herod fixed the day, and the audience came with something to gain:
Residents of Tyre and Sidon, north of Caesarea, wanted to soothe Herod's displeasure toward them, so they used the influence of Herod's chamberlain. We are told they wanted a reconciliation only from selfish motives. They came on an appointed day to hear a speech from Herod. They knew his proud vanity well. His royal clothing (according to the historian Josephus) had a silver texture and shone brilliantly in the sun.
The crowd shouted that a god was speaking. Herod said nothing back. One writer sets his silence beside what Peter did:
When Herod sat on his throne, the people cried that this was not the voice of a man but the voice of a god. He did not give God the glory. He did not, like Peter, rebuke them, tell them to stand up on their feet, and say that this was not a god but a man. Instead he claimed this false praise for himself and delighted in it. So God struck him in His vengeance.
Herod's own last words, as Josephus recorded them, answered the crowd for him:
"I, whom you call a god, am commanded to depart this life at once. In this way Providence rebukes the lying words you just now said to me. I, whom you call immortal, am to be hurried away by death this very moment."
One writer places Herod in a long line of proud men. God lets each of them climb first:
This is very instructive, for this has been God's way, and still is. The builders of the tower of Babel were allowed to carry on with their work until they made it a wonder. Nebuchadnezzar was given time to finish his great city… So here Haman is put up with until he sits at the top. Then, at the moment of proudest elevation, the judgment of God visits all these. Herod was another such man. God struck him, and he died while the people were listening to him and saying, "It is the voice of a god, and not of a man."
One writer reads the scene as a picture of someone still to come:
…the way the Lord judged the man who had turned away from God. Soon after, the people Herod had tried to please hailed him as a god. He had been disappointed in one place, but he was exalted in another. At that moment the angel of the Lord deals with his pride, and worms devour him. It is a sad picture of the awful judgment of God that will fall on the one who will sit "in the temple of God, proclaiming himself to be God."
The chapter then sets Herod's end beside something growing the other way:
Verse 24 gives us a striking contrast. As the worms grew and multiplied in Herod's wretched body, so the Word of God grew and multiplied in the hearts of many. When it pleases God to overthrow an enemy, He need not exert Himself: a few worms will do the job.
- Platform, not palace. The "throne" was a raised platform, the same word used for a judge's seat. Herod turned a place of authority into a stage.
- Staged. The set day, the silver robe and the visitors from Tyre and Sidon all served one man's vanity. They wanted Herod's goodwill; Herod wanted applause.
- Silence. The shout did not condemn him; his refusal to correct it did. Peter had told such people to stand up on their feet.
- Height, then fall. God let the builders of Babel, Nebuchadnezzar and Haman reach the top first. He strikes at the moment of proudest elevation.
- Multiplying. Worms multiplied in the king; the Word of God multiplied in many hearts. God needs no great effort to end an enemy.
And the people cried out, A god's voice and not a man's.
Herod sits on his throne in royal robes and finishes his speech. The crowd answers with a cry that lifts a man into the place of God. The real question is not why a crowd flattered a king. It is why the king said nothing to stop them, and what followed when he let the words stand.
The word for the crowd here is a precise one. It appears only a few times in Acts.
The Greek word dēmos occurs only in Acts 12:22; Acts 17:5; Acts 19:30, 33. It matches the Latin populus, free citizens, and that is how it is used in these passages.
These people were not strangers to Herod. They had studied him, and they knew where to aim.
They came on a set day to hear a speech from Herod. They knew his proud vanity well. His royal robe (according to the historian Josephus) was woven with silver and shone in the sun. The people shouted that his voice was the voice of a god and not of a man. This shameless flattery worked on his pride. He was willing to insult the God who created him by accepting honours that belong to God.
Herod said nothing back. That silence is the turning point of the story, and Kelly sets it against Peter, who lifted a kneeling man off the floor.
When Herod sits on his throne, the people's cry is that this is the voice of a god and not the voice of a man. He did not give God the glory. He did not, like Peter, rebuke them and tell them to stand up on their feet, and say that this was not a god but a man. Instead he claimed the honour for himself and enjoyed this false praise. So God struck him down in His vengeance.
Others in Acts faced the same offer. They turned it down on the spot.
Cornelius wanted to worship him, but Peter lifted him up and said, "Stand up; I too am a man." Compare this with the anger of Paul and Barnabas when the men of Lystra wanted to offer them a sacrifice (Acts 14:14). Compare it too with the words of the angel in Revelation, whom John was ready to worship (Rev. 22:9). These servants knew their place, and knew what belonged to the Lord.
Other rulers took the same title and lived. Kelly explains why Herod was a different case.
The blow that cut short this self-exalting king clearly turns on one thing. He accepted the godless incense that the shameless flattery of his court and the crowd offered him. People may point to the same blasphemy going unpunished in Roman emperors and others. But Herod Agrippa claimed to keep the Jewish law with great care, and so he fell under the hand of God, Who waits for a later day before dealing with the nations that do not know Him.
Some writers see a pattern here that runs far beyond one king.
Once a creature reaches for deity, judgment does not wait. Satan reached for deity and fell. The crowd greeted Herod with the shout, "The voice of a god, and not of a man!" and because "he did not give God the glory" the angel of the Lord struck him at once, and he was eaten by worms and died. So it will be with the antichrist.
The chapter does not end with the throne. It ends with a quiet line about the word of God, and one writer sets the two side by side.
As the worms grew and multiplied in Herod's wretched body, so the Word of God grew and multiplied in the hearts of many. When God chooses to overthrow an enemy, He does not need to exert Himself: a few worms are enough to achieve His purpose.
- Shout — Free citizens came looking for favour. They knew Herod's pride, and they aimed their flattery straight at it.
- Silence — Herod's sin was not the crowd's words. It was his refusal to correct them. He kept the glory that belongs to God.
- Stand up — Peter, Paul and Barnabas, and even an angel refused the same honour. True servants know what belongs to the Lord alone.
- Stroke — Judgment does not wait when a creature reaches for deity. Satan fell, Herod fell, and the antichrist will fall the same way.
- Seed — Worms multiplied in the king's body while the word of God multiplied in hearts. God needs very little to end an enemy, and His word outlives every throne.
And immediately an angel of [the] Lord smote him, because he did not give the glory to God, and he expired, eaten of worms.
Acts 12 ends with a king dying in public disgrace at the very moment of his greatest applause. The crowd treated him as a god, and he did not correct them. The same chapter shows an angel opening a prison door for Peter, then striking down the man who had locked it.
The verse names one reason: he did not give God the glory. People offered him honour that belonged to God, and he kept it. One writer sets out the scene of that applause, then turns it on rulers today.
The wretched king put his own glory on show before the people of Tyre and Sidon, with a royal throne, royal robes, and a public speech. It was a huge diplomatic success. The people gave him, and he accepted, honours due to "a god." At that moment the angel of the Lord struck him. He was only a mortal man, yet he took honours that belonged to God. Powerful men today, just as mortal, are coming very near to doing the same thing. We may yet see them also vanish from the stage of life in the same miserable way.
The chapter uses the same word twice. An angel struck Peter to free him from prison, and an angel struck Herod down.
Acts 12, which begins with the deliverance of Peter, ends with the judgment of Herod. In both cases an angel "struck." He struck Peter up out of prison to set him free, and He struck Herod down into a miserable and disgusting death. God has not repeated such acts, simply because we live in this Gospel age, an age marked by grace. When this age of grace ends, we shall see God's people fully delivered and their oppressors fully judged.
The verse puts the worms before the last breath, not after it. One writer stops on that order.
Human flesh has often been eaten by worms after death, but in Herod's case it happened before death. It is hard to imagine a more horrible end. With James, God let Herod have his way. With Peter, God stopped him. Then God made a fool of him and demanded his soul in the middle of scenes of misery and pain no words can describe.
Another writer sets the display and the decay side by side in one line.
He dressed himself in splendour and made a great speech from the throne, and the people cheered wildly. But the voice of the people is not always the voice of God: God struck him and the worms ate him. Outside, all glory and splendour; inside, disgusting decay.
A record outside the Bible tells the same story. The historian Josephus reports what Herod said as he was dying.
Josephus also records that Herod said at this time: "I, whom you call a god, am ordered to leave this life at once. Providence is rebuking on the spot the lying words you just spoke to me. You called me immortal, and now death is hurrying me away." Such was the tragic end of the man people called "Agrippa the Great!"
One writer reads Herod's end as a small preview of a judgment still ahead.
Herod had tried to please the people, and soon after they accepted him. He had been frustrated in one place, but in another he was honoured, and there they hailed him as a god. At that moment the angel of the Lord deals with his pride, and worms devour him. It is a sad picture of the terrible judgment of God that will fall on the one who will sit "in the temple of God, proclaiming himself to be God."
Herod's story ends here, but the chapter does not.
Most men breathe their last, and then the worms eat them. Of Herod the Holy Spirit records the opposite order: he "was eaten by worms and breathed his last." Then, in striking contrast with how quickly this wicked man's greatness on earth passed away, He at once adds, "But the word of God increased and multiplied." That is the moral of this striking story of human plans and God's intervention.
- Cause. Herod kept glory that belonged to God. He took honours due to God, and the blow fell at that moment.
- Angel. One chapter, two blows from an angel: Peter struck free from prison, Herod struck down into death.
- Manner. The worms did their work before he breathed his last. Outside, all splendour; inside, decay.
- Confirmation. Josephus records the same collapse. The dying king admitted that calling him a god had been a lie.
- Outcome. The king's greatness passed in a moment. The very next line reports that the word of God increased and multiplied.
But the word of God grew and spread itself.
Two things end this chapter: a king eaten by worms, and God's word still spreading. One small word — "but" — sets them side by side and asks what really grows in this world. (The ESV reads "increased and multiplied"; older versions read "grew and multiplied.")
The verse before this one has Herod struck down and eaten by worms. One writer points out that the same two words describe both sides of the "but."
Verse 24 gives us a striking contrast. As the worms grew and multiplied in Herod's wretched body, so the word of God grew and multiplied in the hearts of many. When it pleases God to overthrow an opponent, He does not need to exert Himself: a few worms will do the job. The word of God is what carries out His purpose of blessing in the souls of men.
The order of the words in verse 23 is worth a second look.
Most men breathe their last and are then eaten by worms. Of Herod the record of the Holy Spirit is that he "was eaten by worms and breathed his last." Then, in striking contrast with the passing nature of all this wicked man's earthly greatness, He at once adds, "But the word of God grew and multiplied." That is the moral that crowns this striking account of human schemes and divine intervention.
The chapter is a run of attacks on the church. Each one backfires.
In chapter 12 Herod puts James the brother of John to death, and "proceeded to arrest Peter also." But this very activity of the enemy brought in the intervention of God. God frees Peter from his captivity and strikes Herod down. Then comes the significant statement: "But the word of God grew and multiplied."
A word does not grow the way a plant does. So what exactly increased? One writer answers by lining up the parallel verses in Acts.
So it says "the word of God increased" (Acts 6:7). The next words are "and the number of the disciples multiplied." In the same way, "the word of God grew and multiplied" (Acts 12:24). "So the word of the Lord continued to increase and prevail mightily" (Acts 19:20). I have never heard of anyone finding these passages difficult. These verses mark the mighty effect of the word made known in preaching. They identify the effects produced with their source.
Growth here has two dimensions, and neither the failures of believers nor the strength of opponents could hold it back.
How restrained is the note of triumph that follows! "But the word of God grew and multiplied" (v. 24). Compare Acts 6:7; Acts 19:20. Its sphere widened as its agents increased. Too many who received it were weak, yet their weakness could not hide its own weight and value. Neither could the mighty opponents, who had to fall before a Mightier One behind it.
The word works like seed in a field. One writer traces that lesson straight into this verse.
The great lesson taught here is that the word of the Lord carries its own power. It achieves God's purpose without any help from outside. The seed has its enemies: the thieving birds, the burning sun, the thriving thorns... But the Lord gave His followers this assurance. Its enemies are active and its friends are feeble. Even so, the word of the kingdom will make progress and prevail. So it came about that in the days of the apostles "the word of God grew and multiplied."
So how does this growth reach anyone today?
All this came from receiving the word of God. Having found this treasure, they had to share it with others. You cannot have a monopoly on God's word! If you pass on something of the truth of God to a soul, you keep it yourself as well; you are not made poorer by it. "The word of God grew and multiplied."
- Two growths. Worms multiplied in Herod's body; the word multiplied in human hearts. Luke's "but" makes the whole chapter a comparison of what lasts.
- Unbound. Chains, swords and thrones cannot stop it — the enemy's own activity is what brings God onto the scene.
- Measured by fruit. The word "grew" because disciples multiplied; Luke names the effect by its source, as in Acts 6:7 and 19:20.
- Self-powered. Like seed in the ground, it carries its own power to do God's work, despite enemies outside and weakness inside.
- Shared. Give it away and it multiplies, and the giver loses nothing. That is how the growth reaches you, and continues through you.
And Barnabas and Saul returned from Jerusalem, having fulfilled the service [entrusted to them], taking also with them John, surnamed Mark.
Acts 12 has been a loud chapter of arrest, prison and a sudden rescue. It ends quietly: two men walk back to Antioch from an errand in Jerusalem, with a young helper along. Small as it looks, this verse closes one era of the book and opens another.
They had completed their service: practical relief for the poor believers in Judea. One writer notes who carried it:
This last verse leads into the more important movement from Antioch that follows. It shows two men of the highest rank in the assembly who were not ashamed to do a deacon's work for the poor believers in Jerusalem. The leading men there kept the poor in mind in just this way. Paul could certainly say later, with truth, that he was eager to do this very thing, and we know how near it had always been to the heart of Barnabas.
The errand did more than feed people. Gentile believers were sending help to Jewish believers, and that help held the two groups together:
You will remember that Paul and Barnabas had already visited Jerusalem with alms for the poor Jewish Christians, sent to them by the Gentile Christians. This care of the poor was a very strong bond between the Gentile believers and the Jewish believers. There was much to divide them, and much to cause jealousy between them. But the loving care shown to the poor believers in Judea by their wealthier Gentile brothers bound these Jewish and Gentile Christians together.
At this stage it is still "Barnabas and Saul." That order says something, and it does not last:
The believers in Jerusalem said 'Barnabas and Paul', and that order expressed how they felt. Others felt the same in the early days of the great apostle's testimony. But Acts 13:13 marks a great change… The reader of the Old Testament may find a similar principle in Exodus 6:13, 20, 26 and 27. In the order of nature it is 'Aaron and Moses'; in sovereign grace it becomes 'Moses and Aaron'.
God has just rescued Peter from prison in this chapter. From here he almost vanishes from the story, and the base of the work shifts:
But we hear no more about what Peter did, for the divine work was now to leave Jerusalem. The care of the angels here shows he is fully recognised. Yet the power of the Holy Spirit is found only in Paul and his companions. Antioch is the starting point, not Jerusalem… The Holy Spirit sends Paul out from Antioch. He is God's instrument to preach the gospel among the Gentiles, and to teach what the church was — the mystery hidden from ages and generations.
The verse does not say whether Paul was in the city during Peter's arrest. One writer thinks he was, and asks what that would have meant:
From this one may conclude that Paul was in Jerusalem at the time of Peter's imprisonment and escape by God's hand. If so, we can understand the joy that would fill his large heart at seeing the beloved Simon free again, and free to go on with the Lord's work. Jealousy over another servant standing higher never seems to have had any place in Paul's heart.
The last clause names a young man with two names, and his story does not run smoothly:
Mark was a common Roman first name. His Jewish name was John. He was converted through Peter. At the very start of his Christian life, Barnabas (his relative) and Paul took him with them on their missionary travels. John Mark took the responsibility of Christian service lightly, as so many do. He thought he could pick up God's work and put it down as he liked. He left the two leaders to carry on by themselves and went off home again… in the end, to our surprise, he is given the high honour of writing one of the four Gospels.
- Completed — the service they finished was relief carried to the poor in Judea. Two men of the highest rank in the assembly did that humble work.
- Bound — that gift became a bond between Gentile and Jewish believers. Much could have divided them.
- Ordered — "Barnabas and Saul" shows how the believers in Jerusalem felt. From Acts 13:13 the order changes, as "Aaron and Moses" becomes "Moses and Aaron."
- Shifted — Peter drops from view. Antioch, not Jerusalem, becomes the starting point, and the Holy Spirit sends Paul out from there.
- Carried — the young man they took along would desert the work. He still ended up writing a Gospel; failure did not have the last word.