12.08 | Rhoda
Acts 12
'And when he knocked at the door of the gateway, a servant girl named Rhoda came to answer. Recognizing Peter’s voice, in her joy she did not open the gate but ran in and reported that Peter was standing at the gate. They said to her, “You are out of your mind.” But she kept insisting that it was so, and they kept saying, “It is his angel!”’
Acts 12:13-15
Helen arrived at our student meeting on crutches. She was a medical student, who had slipped over while ice-skating, and landed hard on her knee. It had swollen up, and was so painful that she couldn’t walk on it or bend it. At the end of the meeting, as we always did, we gathered in a circle to pray, giving thanks and praying over what had happened. Helen, sitting straight legged on the floor, joined us.
As we prayed, there was a niggling sense that we needed to pray for Helen’s knee. Probably, in truth, more like what we felt we should pray for, rather than particularly anything that we thought might happen. It was a need in the room, and so was the pastoral thing to do. We had a theology, at least in theory, of God being able to heal. And so, we prayed, and then declared healing on the knee in Jesus’ Name.
Helen stood up. She jumped up and down on the spot. And then, overwhelmed by the total healing of the knee, burst into tears.
Our response?
Complete surprise. We’d had a tiny mustard seed of faith, approached the Father, spoken in the authority of Jesus’ Name, and yet none of us had much confidence in seeing Helen carry those crutches out the door on a perfectly healed leg.
Sometimes we’re so expectant for God not to answer the prayer, that we praying with our mouths, and yet living as if He will not answer.
Today’s reading has Peter (again) in prison. The church in Jerusalem, meanwhile, are praying for him. During the night, the church continue in prayer, in a prayer meeting in Mary’s (John Mark’s mum) house. They are praying for Peter.
While they are praying, an angel appears to Peter. His chains fall off. He walks past the first guard. He walks past the second guard. He reaches the iron gates of the city, which swing open. And he goes to John Mark’s mum’s house and knocks on the door.
It’s almost comedic. The answer to their prayer has just knocked on the door, but they’re all so busy praying that none of them gets up.
None, that is, except for Rhoda.
Rhoda is a servant girl in the household. She goes to the door, and hears Peter’s voice, and rushes back to tell everyone.
But here’s the thing that gets me.
She tells them that Peter is at the door.
They tell her she is out of her mind.
She insists he is at the door.
They find another explanation: it must be his angel.
Peter keeps on knocking. They open the door, and they are amazed.
When the answer to their prayer comes knocking, they deny it, they explain it away, and then, they are amazed.
I’m strangely encouraged by this. And challenged. Because it seems to me, in prayer, that it is very possible to pray prayers as if we do not expect them to be answered. It seems so easy to say the words that we think we should say—for kindness, duty, theology, or the vibe of the room—and yet forget that there is a God in heaven who opens iron gates and makes chains fall off and heals damaged knees.
I love how the angel leads Peter. The chains fall off. He passes the guards. The iron gates open. And yet, the angel leaves Peter to knock on this door himself.
Why?
I wonder if it for the sake of the church at prayer.
Because God is looking for those who will not just pray, but who will expect. Who will not just intercede, but will respond to the knocking. Who will not just yearn for the inbreaking work of God in prayers of passion, but who will, like Rhoda, expect our prayer meetings to be interrupted, as heaven gets to work on the prayers of the Church, shaking of chains, opening metal doors, and knocking on the doors of unexpectant hearts.
Reflect:
If we really expected God to act on our prayers, how would we pray today?
Pray:
Father in heaven,
I often pray
With meandering mind
And wandering heart.
I pray like it’s a litany to be performed
Or a task I probably ought to do.
And yet, Father,
It seems to me
That such Scriptures tell me
That the prayers of the Church
Move the heavens,
Mobilise the angels,
Cause chains to fall,
And open gates of iron.
Father,
Grant me such faith as Rhoda,
Healing my cynicism,
And granting me such simple faith, that
When I pray,
I may persevere,
But also remain attentive,
For the knocking on the door
Of your response.
In Jesus’ Name,
Amen
Old Testament:
For those also reading the Old Testament this year, your additional readings are here:
Jeremiah 48 | Psalm 98