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The Acts of the Apostles
or escape through human means was cut off. But man’s extremity is
God’s opportunity.
Peter was confined in a rock-hewn cell, the doors of which were
strongly bolted and barred; and the soldiers on guard were made
answerable for the safekeeping of the prisoner. But the bolts and
bars and the Roman guard, which effectually cut off all possibility of
human aid, were but to make more complete the triumph of God in the
deliverance of Peter. Herod was lifting his hand against Omnipotence,
and he was to be utterly defeated. By the putting forth of His might,
God was about to save the precious life that the Jews were plotting to
destroy.
It is the last night before the proposed execution. A mighty angel
is sent from heaven to rescue Peter. The strong gates that shut in the
saint of God open without the aid of human hands. The angel of the
Most High passes through, and the gates close noiselessly behind him.
He enters the cell, and there lies Peter, sleeping the peaceful sleep of
perfect trust.
The light that surrounds the angel fills the cell, but does not rouse
the apostle. Not until he feels the touch of the angel’s hand and hears
a voice saying, “Arise up quickly,“ does he awaken sufficiently to see
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his cell illuminated by the light of heaven, and an angel of great glory
standing before him. Mechanically he obeys the word spoken to him,
and as in rising he lifts his hands he is dimly conscious that the chains
have fallen from his wrists.
Again the voice of the heavenly messenger bids him, “Gird thyself,
and bind on thy sandals,” and again Peter mechanically obeys, keeping
his wondering gaze riveted upon his visitor and believing himself to
be dreaming or in a vision. Once more the angel commands, “Cast
thy garment about thee, and follow me.” He moves toward the door,
followed by the usually talkative Peter, now dumb from amazement.
They step over the guard and reach the heavily bolted door, which of
its own accord swings open and closes again immediately, while the
guards within and without are motionless at their post.
The second door, also guarded within and without, is reached. It
opens as did the first, with no creaking of hinges or rattling of iron
bolts. They pass through, and it closes again as noiselessly. In the
same way they pass through the third gateway and find themselves in
the open street. No word is spoken; there is no sound of footsteps. The