“The night before
Herod was going to bring Peter’s case forward, Peter was asleep between two
soldiers and bound with two chains, with soldiers guarding the prison
entrance.”
Acts 12:6 (Common English Bible)
The late
Pittsburgh astronomer, John Brasher, wrote his own epitaph: “I have loved the
stars too fondly to ever be fearful of the night.” What a beautiful and
encouraging thought! As I have pondered those words it seems to me Peter, one
of Jesus’ disciples, could have written them. As Jesus’ disciple, Peter did not
always live in the sunlight. Followers of Jesus rarely do. Peter’s ministry was
not always filled with the brightness of success and victory. Peter knew
darkness and despair. He knew times of trouble and tragedy. Here, in the
twelfth chapter of Acts, we learn that King Herod has begun to make life
difficult for the Christian Church. James, John’s brother, is killed with a
sword. Then Herod has Peter arrested and placed in prison. Peter’s fate seems
as certain as that of James. In Peter’s day – as is today – following Jesus
demands considerable courage.
What is
remarkable is how this story unfolds. Chained inside the walls of a prison,
with sixteen guards stationed on watch for a single man, Peter simply goes to
sleep. At this very moment, the night could not have been darker for Peter.
Yet, there is no evidence that Peter was fearful. Peter sleeps. The church of
Jesus Christ is now under a most severe persecution and its continued existence
seems doubtful. King Herod has found political favor among his constituency by
destroying the lives of Christian leaders and – right or wrong – he continues
simply because it is popular. The night is very dark for Peter; very dark for
the church. Yet, Peter sleeps. But there is more in this story. While Peter
sleeps, the church prays. When Peter and the church must have felt overwhelmed,
the church holds onto hope.
That day is
not unlike today. On our streets, in our neighborhoods, and in our places of
work, the prevailing mood of the day is, overwhelmed. The world today seems to
be more complex, more massive, and difficulties more insurmountable than our
individual and corporate memory can recall. The magnitude of the problems we
face as a nation – particularly gun violence – leaves us exhausted and
frightened. Everything now seems to be beyond the power of ordinary people and
governments to solve or manage. It is night, and we have become fearful.
Confronted with the overwhelming problems of today the question presses, is there
hope?
In his book,
Facing Death, Billy Graham shares a
story about Donald Grey Barnhouse, one of America’s leading Bible teachers in
the first half of the 20th century. Cancer took Barnhouse’s first
wife, leaving him with three children all under twelve. The day of the funeral,
Barnhouse and his children were driving to the service when a large truck
passed them, casting a noticeable shadow across their car. Turning to his
oldest daughter, who was staring sadly out the window, Barnhouse asked, “Tell
me sweetheart, would you rather be run over by that truck or its shadow?”
Looking curiously at her father, she replied, “By the shadow, I guess. It can’t
hurt you.” Speaking to all his children, Barnhouse said, “Your mother has not
been overridden by death, but by the shadow of death. That is nothing to fear.”
Perhaps, this is a truth that Peter and the church understood. So Peter slept
and the church prayed. Their witness strengthens us today.
Joy,
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