For Your Glory, Not Our Own (Acts 12:1-25)

Acts 12:1–5 ESV

About that time Herod the king laid violent hands on some who belonged to the church. He killed James the brother of John with the sword, and when he saw that it pleased the Jews, he proceeded to arrest Peter also. This was during the days of Unleavened Bread. And when he had seized him, he put him in prison, delivering him over to four squads of soldiers to guard him, intending after the Passover to bring him out to the people. So Peter was kept in prison, but earnest prayer for him was made to God by the church.

Introduction

Let’s start today with something fun. A hard and convicting question:

Whose glory do you live for… God’s or your own? And the best way to answer that question is by asking another: What do you run to when life gets hard?

For some of us, it’s control—we tighten our grip, and try to keep everything together. But we are ultimately left exhausted and feeling empty.

For others, it’s comfort—we look for ways to numb our pain and escape the pressure. But comfort keeps us isolated, disconnected, and spiritually asleep.

And for some, it’s validation—we chase approval and applause, hoping someone somewhere will tell us we’re enough. But validation keeps us pretending and performing so much that even we forget who we are.

When we live for our own glory, we end up making ourselves the center of the story—believing the world should orbit around us. But when we live for God’s glory, something shifts. We stop trying to write our own story, and start finding ourselves in the one He’s been writing since the beginning.

And that’s exactly what we’ll see today in Acts 12. Herod is a king obsessed with his own glory—chasing control, comfort, and validation. While Peter is a prisoner in chains living for God’s glory—finding rest, regardless of his circumstances.

With that context, let’s jump into the text.

Acts 12:1 ESV

About that time Herod the king laid violent hands on some who belonged to the church.

Now, “About that time” connects us to chapter 11—the church in Antioch is growing, the gospel is spreading, and things are going great. And right when God’s kingdom starts to advance, opposition shows up. Funny how that happens. It’s almost like there’s a real enemy that opposes the spread of the gospel. Enter King Herod.

The Herod mentioned here is Herod Agrippa I. Grandson of Herod the great, who tried to kill Jesus as a baby, and nephew of Herod Antipas, who had John the Baptist killed. Herod is a dynasty name, not the name of an individual. And this dynasty is full of men who clearly oppose the kingdom of God.

But at first Agrippa appears at least on the outside to be religious. He publicly played the part of a Jewish king by living in Jerusalem, frequenting the temple, and—according to the Jewish historian Josephus— he read the Law aloud, as the book of Deuteronomy commanded Jewish kings to do. But we’ll come to see it’s all just political theater. He doesn’t crave righteousness; he craves power and applause. So he began laying violent hands on the church. Killing James the brother of John with the sword.

Now why share that detail? That he was killed with a sword? Because again the book of Deuteronomy, commanded that those turning people away from the one true God, be killed by the sword. So Agrippa again appears to be following the word, but he’s twisting it for his own purposes. By framing the apostles as heretics and blasphemers. This gives him the leverage he needs to execute James, the brother of the apostle John. Making him the first martyred apostle.

When he saw how the crowd cheered, he thought, “Let’s do it again!” He arrests Peter—the ringleader of the apostles. But since it’s the Feast of Unleavened Bread, according to Jewish law, he has to wait until after Passover to execute him.

So Peter’s execution was delayed. And while they waited, Agrippa put Peter in a maximum security cell—with four squads of soldiers, sixteen men total, working in shifts. He was handcuffed, double chained, and guarded like a dangerous criminal. Why?

Surely because Agrippa remembered the incident we saw in Acts 5—when the apostles escaped prison before. He’s not taking any chances this time. He’s in control.

And we see how the church responds in verse 5.

Acts 12:5 ESV

So Peter was kept in prison, but earnest prayer for him was made to God by the church.

While Peter’s in prison, the church isn’t panic-planning or plotting an escape route. They’re not saying, “Who’s got a cousin in the Roman Guard that we can get to help?” They’re on their knees—pleading with God through prayer.

Luke says they prayed earnestly—the same word used for Jesus praying in Gethsemane. This is sweat-and-tears kind of prayer.

As believers we know that prayer is the greatest weapon man has to push back darkness in the world.

But the world does not see it that way. They see prayer as powerless. As inactivity.

I’ve heard so many say, “We don’t want your thoughts and prayers. We want action.” And I get their frustration—prayer is pointless to a nonbeliever. But believers know the power of prayer.

Prayer isn’t inaction—it’s dependence on the one who holds the power. It’s alignment. It’s not about getting God to move our way—it’s about moving our hearts His way. And that’s where glory begins: when we stop striving and start surrendering.

And where we turn in crisis always reveals whose power we trust, and whose glory we’re really living for.

CHUNK

Let’s keep going,

Acts 12:6 ESV

Now when Herod was about to bring him out, on that very night, Peter was sleeping between two soldiers, bound with two chains, and sentries before the door were guarding the prison.

The night before Peter’s execution, he’s not pacing or panicking, but sleeping. I don’t even sleep good the night before I go to the dentist. I couldn’t imagine sleeping well the night before my execution. But Peter is snoring chained to two guards, with more watching the doors.

One commentary said

Exalting Jesus in Acts The Lord’s Peace Is Phenomenal

Peter was guarded by soldiers, but his heart was guarded by God.

This peace is the same peace that allowed Jesus to sleep in a storm while everyone else panicked. Because he knew where the storm got it’s power. Peter trusts that he is in God’s hands. His confidence is anchored in the Lord’s glory, not his own.

And right in that stillness—

A light flashes in the cell, and an angel of the Lord appears. And I love how Luke describes it: the angel “struck Peter on the side.”

Not a little tap. Not a polite “hey buddy, rise and shine.” No, the angel strikes him and says, “Get up quickly!”

Peter who I’m sure is dazed gets up, and his chains just fall off. No key. No struggle. No noise. Just God doing miraculous stuff.

They walk past the guards, through the gates—and everything opens on its own. And Peter thinks it’s all a dream until he’s standing in the street, free, and realizing what just happened to which he says “Now I am sure that the Lord has rescued me from Herod and the people.”

CHUNK

As Peter stood there, he realized where to go…Mary’s house, the mother of John Mark, who wrote the gospel of Mark. She had a church meeting in her home, and they were gathered together praying for Peter.

But when he showed up and knocked on the door, no one believed it was him…except for a young servant girl named Rhoda. When she told the others they said, “You are out of your mind.” And when she kept insisting they said “it’s his angel.”

Think about this for a moment. These people are setting apart time as a church in Mary’s house, praying for Peter’s release. And when the Lord answers, they don’t believe it.

We might pick on these believers, but if we’re honest, isn’t that us too? We say we trust the Lord—but when He actually delivers on His promises, when He moves, when He answers—we’re shocked or attribute it to something else.

That’s the power of unbelief. It blinds us even when God is standing right outside our door.

It reminds me of Matthew 28:17, when the disciples saw the risen Jesus. It says, “They worshiped Him, but some doubted.” They’re looking at the resurrected Son of God—holes in His hands, victory over death—and still, some doubt. That’s the power of unbelief.

This is why we will never get past our need for the gospel, or prayer, or fellowship. We need His Word, we need the church, we need groups who meet in homes to remember who He is and what He’s done. Because we forget. And forgetfulness leads to self-reliance. Or to say it another way, disbelief leads to disobedience. Scripture actually ties the two together—because they come from the same Greek root. So when the Bible calls us “sons of disobedience,” it literally calls us “descendants of unbelief.” We see this in Genesis 3 and onward.

This is why Jesus teaches so much about faith. It’s one of His favorite subjects. And faith, to Jesus, is not just intellectual belief—it’s active trust in God’s presence, and promises.

True discipleship begins with abiding in Christ. Not doing for Him. And abiding is realizing how much we need Him, and returning to Him again and again. Because our sinful nature keeps us drifting toward disbelief and disobedience. But remembering who He is and who we are as a result strengthens our faith.

And verse 16 says “when they opened the gates, they saw Peter and were amazed.”

Of course they were! Because the very thing they were praying for was on their porch. And this reminded them of the awesomeness of God. Family, every day to be reminded of God’s awesomeness.

What stirs your affections for Him? These things don’t make us closer to God, but they make us more aware of His closeness. And they probably look different for each of us. For me—I like to get up early, go outdoors and quietly observe His goodness through creation. And when we go on vacation I like going to places that make me feel small. Places like the mountains, oceans, and national parks. Because they remind me of His awesomeness. And they remind me of His Word. That the whole earth is full of His glory. That He holds all things together with a word of His mouth. And He is mindful of me!

He knows my thoughts before I think them, my words before I speak them, and the number of hairs that used to be on my head.

He is a good Father. And He is an awesome God!

When we take our thoughts captive and tune our hearts to sing His praise, we walk by faith. We live aware of His presence. We become people who expect God to move.

And when Peter steps into that room, he helps this church remember the awesomeness of God. He strengthens their faith and gives glory to God, telling them to go share the news with James and the brothers, before quietly slipping away.

CHUNK

When morning came, nobody could find Peter… again.

Can you imagine that morning roll call? Sixteen guards standing there looking at each other, panicking—chains on the ground, doors still locked, Peter gone. Each of them looking at each other and saying, “Which one of us is gonna tell Herod?” Either way, word gets to him, and he’s furious. And He orders the guards execution.

This act of God didn’t just frustrate Herod—it humiliated him. His “maximum security prison” got defeated by a praying church and a sleepwalking fisherman. But instead of standing up like a man and owning it, he does what all proud people do—runs away. He flees Jerusalem for Caesarea, the most Roman city in Judea, and according to Josephus, this is where Herod Agrippa drops the whole “Jewish king” act and embraces full Roman showmanship. He’s done pretending to honor God. He’s now openly chasing the applause of men. So when he arrives in Caesarea, he’s angry with the people of Tyre and Sidon for whatever reason. And those cities depended on Judea for food, so they come to him begging for peace. And Herod, feeling important again, sees an opportunity to soak up some glory. He appoints a day, puts on his royal robes—he takes his seat on the throne, and delivers this big, dramatic speech. And when he’s done, the crowd shouts, “The voice of a god, and not of a man!”

And we can almost be certain they didn’t mean it. They just wanted food. So they were willing to flatter him to get it. “Sure, sure, Herod—you’re divine. Just pass the bread, bro.”

But Herod loved it. He drinks in the praise. He doesn’t redirect it to God—he receives it. And right there, the text says:

“Immediately an angel of the Lord struck him down, because he did not give God the glory, and he was eaten by worms and breathed his last.” (v. 23)

Woah. Herod, the great king who thought he was immortal, in a matter of seconds, becomes worm food.

The message couldn’t be clearer: God will not share His glory.

Isaiah 42:8 says,

“I am the Lord; that is my name; my glory I give to no other.”

This isn’t His ego on display—it’s the truth. He alone is worthy. All other things that we elevate, no matter how good we might think they are, cannot rightly take His place. He gives His glory to no other, because no other is worthy of that glory. He’s reordering our disordered loves. He’s making ultimate the only thing that should be. Our hearts will never be at rest until they find their rest in Him.

Just look at our story today, Peter found rest in chains. Because he was seeking God’s glory. While Herod was restless on a throne, because he was seeking his own. Circumstances can never change the posture of our heart, only God can. It matters whose glory we’re living for. And the chapter ends with this line of triumph:

“But the word of God increased and multiplied.” (v. 24)

The chapter opens with James dead, Peter in prison, and Herod triumphing. It ends with Herod dead, Peter free, and the Word of God triumphing.

Herod’s story ends in decay. God’s story ends in multiplication.

Human glory fades. God’s glory multiplies. Always.

The Glory of God Revealed in Jesus

And nowhere do we see this more clearly than in Jesus.

John 1:14 says,

“The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen His glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.”

John’s gospel shows us that from His first miracle to His final prayer, every moment of Jesus’ life was revealing the glory of God.

At the wedding in Cana he turned water into wine:

John 2:11 manifesting His glory. And His disciples believed in Him.”

To the grieving sister outside Lazarus’ tomb he said,:

John 11:40 ‘Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?’”

And then, just before the cross, in His High Priestly Prayer, He prayed something absolutely breathtaking:

John 17:22–23 “The glory that You have given Me I have given to them, that they may be one even as We are one—I in them and You in Me—that they may become perfectly one, so that the world may know that You sent Me and loved them even as You loved Me.”

Wait…what? Did you catch that? The same glory the Father gave to the Son—Jesus has given to us. Not for acclaim or applause. But for unity and witness—so that a broken world may know Him through our existence.

That’s our calling church—to display His glory, not our own.

And the path that He took led Him to a cross. An instrument of shame to humanity, but an instrument of glory for Jesus.

At the cross grace and truth meet, and justice and mercy are displayed.

At the cross Jesus was stripped of human glory. Mockingly crowned with thorns and nailed to wood with an inscription that read king of the Jews.

At the cross, God’s glory was not revealed in power, but in sacrifice.

Not in taking, but in giving.

Not in being served, but serving.

Not in saving face, but in saving sinners.

So we boast in nothing but the cross. Because it lays us bare and exposes all the ways that we seek our glory over His.

So when we look at Jesus crucified and risen, we see what real glory looks like: humility, obedience, love, and sacrifice. And we realize— that’s the glory He’s called us to carry into the world.

Let’s Pray

Father help our unbelief. Teach us what it means to display your glory, not our own.

Not through our power, or prominence, but through our complete and utter dependence on you.

Remind us of the reason we gather each week. For your glory, not our own.

Remind us why we sing, and give with glad and generous hearts each week. For your glory, not our own.

Help us to live this out as we go from here. In our hearts, households, and communities. For your glory not our own.

COMMUNION:

We now come to the table You have prepared for us, Lord, in that same posture. This meal reminds us that our faith rests not in our performance, but in Your past faithfulness—which guarantees our future hope.

Thank you for your body broken and your life poured out. That we might be clothed in righteousness and called son and daughter of the most High God.

Benediction:

Psalm 115:1 ESV

Not to us, O Lord, not to us, but to your name give glory, for the sake of your steadfast love and your faithfulness!