THE SMITING OF THE ANGEL OF GOD]

01-08-78

Acts 12:21-23

 

            This is the pastor bringing the message entitled, THE SMITING OF THE ANGEL OF GOD.  It is based upon a presentation in the 12th chapter of the Book of Acts. 

            In this chapter, twice the angel of the Lord descends and twice he does the same thing.  He smites.  But how vastly different is the smiting. 

            The 12th chapter of the Book of Acts begins like this, "About that time Herod the king stretched forth his hands to persecute the church. 

            "And he killed James, the brother of John," the son of Zebedee

            When he saw it pleased the Jews, he incarcerated Peter and would have immediately executed him, but the Passover was at hand. 

            So after the Days of Unleavened Bread, keeping Peter in chains, he was preparing to slay God's chief apostle. 

            Then Peter, in prison, fast asleep, the angel of the Lord smote him on the side and raised him up saying, "Arise."  His chains fell off and the doors opened and the angel led him forth into the light and liberty and freedom of the providence of God. 

            That's the first smiting.  And the angel of the Lord smote Peter.  The second, this Herod went down from Judea to Caesarea and upon a certain day, arrayed in royal apparel, he sat upon his throne and made an oration to the people. 

            And the throng gave a shout saying, "It is a voice of a god and not of a man.

            "And immediately, the angel of the Lord smote" Herod.  Same angel; same smiting.  "And the angel of the Lord smote him and he was eaten up of worms and gave up the ghost." 

            What a contrast in those smitings of the angel of God.  Simon Peter is the chief apostle.  To him, the Lord gave the keys to open the door of the kingdom of grace in which we live.  He was God's preacher at Pentecost in Jerusalem.  At the Pentecost of Samaria and at the Gentile Pentecost in Caesarea that opened the doors to the Gentile world. 

            This Herod, wherever you read that name in the Bible, it spells trouble, anguish, turmoil, murder, bloodshed, violence.  Wherever you find that word “Herod” in the Bible, there are waves of repercussions.  There are draggings of darkness and death that ever follow after. 

            Herod the Great is introduced to us in the beginning of the gospel.  This is the one who killed the babes, massacred the children in Bethlehem.  Herod Antipas is the Herod that slew John the Baptist. 

            Listening to his wife Herodias -- another Herod -- who left the man she was married to, her Uncle Herod Phillip.  He was just a dull, drag of a man.  Gave herself to Herod Antipas because he was a tetrarch. 

            And her daughter Salome, dancing before the king, ended in the severing of the head of John the Baptist.  That's Herod Antipas. 

            This Herod is the grandson of Herod the Great.  He's the son of Aristobulus who was slaughtered by Herod the Great with his brother Alexander and with his mother Mariamne.  This brother is the brother of Herodias. 

            He's the father of the three Herods we see in Acts 24:25.  Herod Agrippa the Second.  This is the Herod before whom Paul appeared.  He persuaded his sister Bernice to leave her husband.  And when they appear in the Book of Acts, they are living in incest together. 

            And then the other sister Drusilla is the wife of Felix, the Roman procurator. 

            This Herod is Agrippa II, and he is has cunning, as schematic.  He is as treacherous and as dark and devious as his grandfather, Herod the Great. 

            Sent to Rome to be educated.  He lived a profligate and dissolute life.  Finally, left penniless and in debt, he made appeal to his sister, Herodias that she take him in.  They did so. 

            And Herod Antipas, Herodias' husband gave him a menial task in his new capital, built on the sea of Galilee named Tiberias. 

            Upon a public occasion Herod Antipas taunted and insulted this Herod Agrippa and in burning anger and resentment, he returned to Rome.  And in those strange providences of history, this Herod Agrippa, became close friends to Gaius Caligula  heir to the Roman Caesars. 

            Tiberius, the Caesar overheard this Herod Agrippa say words disparaging concerning him, and his stupidity.  And that Caligula ought to be the Roman Caesar. 

            Tiberius placed this Herod in prison and in chains.  But six months later, Tiberius died and Caligula came to the Roman throne.  He liberated this Herod.  Gave him a golden chain, the same weight of the iron chain by which he was bound. 

            And this Herod, seeing his opportunity, accused Herod Antipas and persuaded Caligula to dismiss Herod Antipas in disgrace, in exile.  And Caligula gave the kingdom of Herod Antipas to this Herod. 

            When Caligula was poisoned, this Herod persuaded the reluctant Claudius to take the throne of the Caesars.  And Claudius gave to this Herod Samaria, Judea and Idumea.  And he's now reigning over the entire area, the kingdom, that Herod the Great, his grandfather once reigned over. 

            When he saw that persecuting the church pleased the Jews, he killed James with the sword.  Then when he saw that gained him further popularity, he took Peter and placed him in prison. 

            Would have slain him, but the Passover was at hand.  So decided after the Feast of Unleavened Bread, after the days of the Passover, that he would slay Simon Peter also. 

            The next day, Simon Peter is to be killed.  There he is between two Roman soldiers in iron chains, behind three iron doors, fast asleep.  Confident in the assurance of the goodness of God. 

            If he lives, it is unto the Lord.  If he dies, it is to be with the Lord.  So facing execution in a few hours, he is there, sound asleep. 

            And suddenly, suddenly, the angel of the Lord descends and smites Simon Peter.  "Awake, awake." 

            Smote him with a gentle violence.  "Awake."  And his chains fell off.  And the prison doors opened.  And he was free in the liberty of the goodness and grace of God. 

            Could that be an emblem and a sign, a harbinger, a promise, a earnest, a picture, a type of the smiting of the angel of God when he strikes the children of the Lord?  When he strikes us in death, and an angel takes us up to heaven, bears us to the bosom of Abraham. 

            A time of the smiting of the angel of God when at the voice of the archangel, and the trumpet of the Lord, we who are asleep in Jesus will be awakened.  Our chains of sin have fallen off.  The imprisonment of this fleshly carnal body has passed away.  And we are liberated into the glorious likeness of Jesus our Savior. 

            The sweet, smiting of the angel of God.  Always death is like that.  And immortality is like that to the Christian. 

            Paul wrote it, "For me to live is Christ, and to die is a gain." 

            Paul wrote it, "O death, where is thy sting?  O grave where is thy victory?" 

            Paul wrote it, "For there is unto me reserved a crown of righteousness which the Lord shall give me at that day.  And not to me alone, but to all them also who love His appearing." 

            The smiting of the angel of God.  A gentle and precious violence.  Our great Christian poets have felt it no less as they face the smiting of the angel of the Lord.  Robert Browning, dying, read to his daughter-in-law and sister his last poem, the Epilogue. 

 

One who never turned his back. 

But marched, breast forward. 

Never doubted clouds would break

Never dreamed the right were worsted,

Wrong would triumph. 

Had we fall to rise. 

Or baffled fight better

To sleep, to wake. 

            The great friend of Browning, at Poet Laureate, England, Alfred Lord Tennyson, wrote it like this as he came to his last days,

 

Sunset and evening star

And one clear call for me. 

But may there be no moaning of the war

When I am put out to sea.

 

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,

Too full for sound or foam. 

When that which turned from out of boundless deep

Turns again home. 

 

Twilight, an evening bell

And after that, the dark. 

But may there be no sadness

Of farewell when I embark.

 

Further from out this born time or place. 

The flood may bear me far,

I hope to see my Pilot face-to-face

When I have crossed the bar. 

            The sweet, gentle smiting of the angel of the Lord, "Awake, Simon, awake."  The chains are gone, the prison doors are open, God's freedom is ours and forever. 

            But oh, how different the smiting of the angel of the Lord in Herod.  And Herod went down from Judea to Caesarea.  Dull, shabbats [=sabbaths] in Jerusalem.  Dreary koshers and laws and observances in Jerusalem. 

            He went down to Caesarea where the life was brighter and where the wine was redder and where the vines were better and where the tempo was faster.  He went down to the Roman city of Caesarea. 

            And upon a set day, Herod arrayed in royal apparel sat upon his throne and made an oration to them.  It would be interesting, interesting to read from Josephus this same incident.  And as he spake, the people shouted saying, "It is the voice of the god." 

            And immediately, the angel of the Lord smote him and he was eaten of worms and died.  It is interesting to read that same incident from the pen of the Jewish-Roman historian Josephus. 

            He says that at a feast day, Herod the Great entered into the theater.  That theater is there today.  Many of you have been in it in the ruins of Caesarea.  Great amphitheater. 

            And he appeared, Josephus says, he was robed beautifully in a gorgeous robe of woven raw, silver.  And as he moved, it dazzled in the sun. 

            And Josephus says that the people shouted that he was a god and they cried as they added these words, "Be thou merciful to us, O Herod, for altogether we have hitherto reverence thee only as a man.  But now shall we henceforth reverence thee as superior to mortal beings." 

            Then Herod was struck and looking upon his friends, who carried him away, he said, "I, whom you call a god and am commanded presently to depart this life.  While providence thus reproves the line -- word you now said to me.  And I who was by you called immortal." 

            And immediately hurried away into death. 

            How unusual.  Josephus describing it and Dr. Luke saying the people shouted, "He's a God."  "And immediately the angel of the Lord smote him because he gave not God the glory.  And he was eaten of worms and gave up the ghost." 

            What a difference the smiting of the angel of the Lord.  And he was eaten up of worms.  The visitation of God to the wicked.  Three times in the Gospel of Mark, the 9th chapter, does the Lord refer to the place where the wicked go.  "Where the worm dieth not." 

            What an imagery.  But how sadly and tragically true.  Lord Byron was the darling of the whole world.  He was a peer in the House of Lords in England.  Not only reverenced, loved, cajoled, adorned, pampered and petted by the English-speaking world, but by the whole world, Lord Byron.  Do you remember the last poem that he wrote? 

 

My days are in the yellow leaf. 

The flowers and fruits of love are gone. 

The worm -- the worm, the canker and the grief

Are mine alone. 

            Do you remember the title of the poem?  "Upon My Thirty-Sixth Birthday." 

            The smiting of the angel of the Lord.  Byron was as dissolute and as wicked and as personally immoral as any figure in literature that ever crossed the horizon of human story.  What a way to end life.  In despair. 

            Those two smitings, how they represent all mankind in the presence of the Lord.  The smiting of Simon Peter.  The gentle tenderness that awakens him to God.  And the awful judgment, the smiting of the angel of the Lord to those who give their lives to worldliness and to wickedness. 

            The same angel, the same smiting, but oh, how different.  Thus, all of the providences of life, the same providences, the same experience, but oh, how different, how opposite. 

            The cloud, the cloud to the Israelites was light and life.  But that same cloud to the Egyptians was darkness. 

            The ark that maimed the God Dagon and that decimated the Philistines, blessed the house, the same ark blessed the house of Obed-Edom.

            In the passage of Scripture that you just read, the same gospel, "the savor of life unto life to them that believe," the same gospel, "the savor of death to those who perish."  All of the providences of life are like that.  They are dual in nature. 

            Death, death to the child of God is a coronation.  It's our entrance into glory.  On my desk, placed a note just now, one of our saints has passed away to be with the Lord.  Heaven is open, the pearly gates, filled with angels to welcome God's saint that is gone home. 

            Death to the child of God -- death to the wicked.  What an ominous visage that pale horsemen, yet to both it is death.  The resurrection.  The resurrection to the child of God, the smiting of the angel, awakened into a life like of the immortal Son, our elder Brother. 

            But resurrection to the wicked, as Daniel writes, "Raised to shame and to everlasting contempt."            

            What a judgment.  The judgment of God, the judgment of God to the righteous to the Christian, it is the great bema before which God gives us His commendation. 

            God accepts us in the beloved.  And we sit down at the Marriage Supper of the Lamb.  Each one of us rewarded at what we've tried to do for Jesus.  How precious the bema, the judgment to the Christian. 

            How awesome the Great White Judgment to the lost?  Standing before the same God.  How different the smiting of the angel of the Lord. 

            Not only in the consummation of the age, do we find that duality.  We find it through every day of this life.  In every experience of this life.  To a child of God, how precious to read the Scriptures. 

            To a child of God, how dear to receive a Bible.  Maybe written in Korean.  Maybe written in Hottentot.  Maybe written in Chinese.  Maybe written in Auca.  How precious these carvings, these writings of the Lord to those who are saved. 

            But how dull and how phlegmatic and how uninteresting and sterile and stupid are the Scriptures to those who despise them.  "What we want, pornography.  Mountains of it.  What we want, salacious stories, filled with all of the evil carnal suggestiveness of a vile and depraved imagination." 

            Same type.  Same vocabulary.  Same words.  Same alphabet.  But oh, how different.  Put together in the Word of the Lord or put together in a salacious, suggestive carnal story. 

            Prayer.  Prayer to the Christian. 

 

Oh, what a friend we have in Jesus. 

All our sins and griefs to bear. 

What a privilege to carry

Everything to God in prayer. 

            To the Christian, how much strength and comfort and help and assurance there is in prayer.  To a child of the world, couldn't find an exercise more distasteful.  If they had a thousand hours in every day, no minute of it devoted to intercession, to talking to God, to bearing the soul naked and open before the Lord. 

            How different the smiting of the angel of God.  The church. "I was glad," says the Christian, "I was glad when They said unto me.  Let us go up to the House of the Lord."          

            Love coming, attending, being present, sharing, worshiping, calling upon His name.  Listening to the expounding of the Holy Word. 

            To a worldly, to a man who is not saved, what a dullness.  What a waste of time.  "Man, I could be out there in a thousand other things in the world while there you sit in the house of the Lord." 

            The smiting of the angel of God.  The songs that we sing.  Oh.  I think there are no songs in the world like Christian songs.  Songs of praise and hallelujah.  One you heard just now. 

            "Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive honor and blessing and glory and dominion and power.  Amen.  Amen." 

            How wonderful a song written three hundred years ago.  But how different.  We like rock and roll.  We like suggestive.  We like them sexual.  We like them in passion.  The smiting of the angel of the Lord. 

            What we need in life, in home, in heart, in every experience, what we need is a great turning to the Lord.  You know, even though it is in some ways sad, there is no more truer parable the Lord ever spake than when He told the story of the prodigal son. 

            It says he took his inheritance, the substance of his father and he wasted it with harlots and riotous living.  When he hit town, did everybody know he was there!  Oh, the fun and the frolic.  The wine and the women and the song.  He lived it up.  That's the way of the world. 

            I don't know just somehow the way God has put it together.  The day comes, it inevitably comes.  It inexorably comes.  The day comes when his money is gone.  Had his health is gone.  When his youth is gone.  When the good times are gone. 

            And he is eating with the hogs.  He is eating the husks. 

            Thank the Lord this boy, the Book says, as he sat on the top of a corral fence and watched the hogs eat, you remember what it says?  "He came to himself.  He came to himself."  What nomenclature.  "He came to himself."  He came into his right mind, into his right judgment. 

            It is right, it is reasonable for a man to be a Christian, to love God.  It is unreasonable, it is an aberration of the mind for a man to leave God out of his life.  "He came to himself." 

            And he said, "Here I am in the hog pen.  I'll go back to my father and home." 

            That's where he belonged.  Not in the hog pen.  Not in the world.  Not eating husks.  Where we belong is in the house of the Father in all of the blessing and the glory of the gracious hands of God, our Lord.