Sometimes There Isn’t An Angel

by Jon Buck

“And he had James the brother of John put to death with a sword. When he saw that it pleased the Jews, he proceeded to arrest Peter also.” 
Acts 12:2-3

These verses about James and Peter are some of the starkest I’ve read in recent days. The book of Acts continues as Luke records the miraculous deliverance of Peter. 

You might remember that on the night before Peter is executed, he is sleeping by two guards. An angel wakes him up, leads him out of the jail, and into the street at night. Not until the angel disappears does he realize he isn’t seeing a vision! 

He goes to the house where the disciples are gathered and praying, and is left waiting as the young servant Rhoda runs to inform the church. The church scoffs, but discovers Peter has been saved, and rejoices at God’s mighty deliverance. 

All of this is glorious. 

As Christians, I think we like to identify ourselves with Peter. His faithfulness, and the prayers of the saints, are met with salvation. Herod dies a horrible but just death (he is ‘eaten by worms’ according to v. 23 - Yuck!), Peter’s ministry continues, and the church continues to prosper. That’s the story I want my life to follow! 

In contrast, we don’t often identify ourselves with James, and that isn’t surprising with the little phrase that Luke devotes to his death. But perhaps we should identify with him. He isn’t a lesser character, after all! He’s one of the three in the inner circle of Jesus’ ministry. Brother to John, one of the ‘Sons of Thunder’, according to Mark, James was an important pillar in the church. 

No doubt the church prayed fervently for his release. No doubt he had a similar night in the Roman prison cell, wondering if there would be divine intervention. But for James, no angel appeared. There was no intervention. Instead he woke up that morning, walked into the Roman courtyard, and was put to death with a sword. His blood poured out onto the sandy floor, and his lifeless body dropped to the ground. 

It’s hard to say whether he was beheaded or stabbed, but either way, he was murdered. 

What we fail to realize is that this is just as glorious. 

Peter’s life continued and God used him in remarkable ways but eventually he would also be murdered. 

Peter and James are both in heaven now. The difference of a few intervening years is very small. 

We pray for many things as Christians—healing, help, salvation for children and loved ones, fruitful lives, and countless other things. At times, we are Peter - triumphantly saved by miraculous means. But at other times, we are James - experiencing the pain that God has sovereignly carved out for us. 

As I’ve thought about all the suffering that I might face in my own life, the suffering that could enter the lives of my children, the suffering that could come to our church, and the suffering that could happen to Christians globally, I’m reminded that we might be James, rather than Peter. God is not obligated to save us, and our story could match the brevity of the story of James. 

Either way, though, God is good and God is sovereign. As our King and Father, our lives are used for His glory, and that is all that matters.