Acts 12:6-17 And when Herod would have brought him forth, the same night Peter was sleeping between two soldiers, bound with two chains… When we read the "mighty works" of Jesus or of those commissioned by him, whether apostles or angels, it is an easy thing to permit our attention to be diverted from anything else contained in them, under the influence of the fascination of the power which they display. For this very thing is often done, and the moral quality: the moral beauty, and even the moral imitableness of what we call the miracle, is ignored. The loss is as gratuitous as it is wasteful, nor is it free from an element of perverseness, when it exhibits us stricken by the wonder of the power we cannot, negligent of the grace we might, learn, Meantime the various character and aspect of the miracles recorded in Scripture are neither less astonishing nor less pleasing than the various color and hue and fragrance of the flowers of the garden. The impression may be described as a whole as the charm latent, or sometimes less latent than evident, in the Divine working. To contemplate this must ever add to our sense of Divine gracefulness, may in some degree improve our own approach to it and growth in it. Let us in this sense consider the Divine interposition here recorded. For whatever reason, it is mercifully resolved on. Prayer unceasing has brought help. The Divine wisdom has determined the trenchant and decisive character of the help. And in humbled yet grateful and joyous feeling nevertheless, we may note the contrasts suggested by the Divine work and too much of our own. Observe - I. THE ACTUAL LIGHT WHICH IS THROWN ROUND ABOUT DIVINE WORK. (Ver. 7.) "Clouds and darkness are round about" God himself, his incomprehensible character, his hidden purposes, his sovereign will. This is very true. But when he comes to work distinctly for men and among them, his footsteps are not in the stealthy dark. The angel comes in light, and the prison is lighted up, whoever is awake to see and whoever has eyes to see. II. THE FINISHED COMPLETENESS OF WHAT WORKING. The angel brings all necessary instruction; does all that could be needful, or helpful; condescends to the meanest instructions. He strikes Peter so as to awake him; he gives him a hand; he tells him to be quiet; he snaps the chains off his hands; he bids him dress and put on his shoes, and throw his garment about him, and follow whither he would lead. All the work is known and facile, and orderly and swift, without grating or a jar, and to such a degree that the very subject of it can think it is a vision and dream of an unbroken sleep. III. THE LOVING-KINDNESS OF DIVINE WORKING. Often as we murmuringly and impatiently may chide what seems its lingering, halting step, when it comes how grateful its advent! how true to exact need and to the nick of occasion! How simple in its helpfulness and real in its usefulness! There is so little sound of profession about it, but all is deed. IV. ITS CONDESCENDING WILLINGNESS TO FORM PART OF HUMAN WORKING. The interposition that is most marked for its superhuman element does not hold itself in lofty and haughty isolation, but begins from some human suggestion, and leaves just as though it put the rest trustingly into man's hand again. The angel did all that was needful to get Peter outside the prison, and passed with him safely the first ward and the second ward, and through the iron gate that knew the step of its master and opened of its own accord, and "through one street," and then departed. And Peter sees after that for himself, and understands and carries on the work, showing himself to many praying friends (ver. 12), sending express word to "James and the brethren" (ver. 17), and putting himself beyond present danger, as one more mindful of Divine protection and goodness than rashly courting danger and notoriety. V. THE JOYFUL SURPRISE IT WILL REPEATEDLY SPREAD. From the rescued Peter himself to the delighted damsel Rhoda, to the party of the pious praying at the house of her of the auspicious name, Mary, to the fellow-apostle James and to the brethren, the tones of gladsome surprise die down, only to wake and revive again and again. The echoes of human sorrows, sighs, wails, are not, after all, the only echoes heard in this world. These others ring through the circles of the earth's air and the heaven's with lighter, merrier bound, and fail not to give some forewarning of the endless echoes of "gladness and joy and singing" that shall be ere long. VI. AFTER ALL, ITS SUPREME AND DECISIVE CONFUSION OF HUMAN OPPOSITION. Many an earthly conflict, settled with all the wisdom and devotion that human mind and heart can bring to hear, seems still left an unsettled conflict. The wound is not certainly healed up; the difference is not absolutely removed; the victory is not really satisfactory. But how is it when God interposes? How is it when Jesus speaks, whether to wind and sea or to saint or sinner? How is it when the Spirit comes upon the scene into the heart? And this was well illustrated now. Where now are the prison, and the chains, and the soldiers, and the keepers? And where is the guilty temporizer himself, Herod? They none of them can bear the light of that next morning. They cannot "abide the day of His coming." After no "small stir," the soldiers lose rank, the keepers lose life, Herod abundantly loses dignity, and "goes down from Judaea to Caesarea, and there abides," probably sorry he ever went up or began to care "to please the Jews." And past the storm, the song of the servant of Christ is heard, repeating itself and confirmed, "Now I know of a surety, that the Lord hath sent his angel, and hath delivered me out of the hand of Herod, and from all the expectation of the people of the Jews." Who so safe, who so blessed as those "delivered" by the Lord from their foes and his, and kept thenceforth in his sure place and the secret hiding-place of his pavilion? - B. Parallel Verses KJV: And when Herod would have brought him forth, the same night Peter was sleeping between two soldiers, bound with two chains: and the keepers before the door kept the prison. |
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