The Worms and the Word Text: Acts 12:20-23
Introduction: The State as God Walking on Earth
We live in an age that is drunk on politics. The modern secular state has become, for many, the source of salvation, the arbiter of morality, and the provider of daily bread. It demands our ultimate allegiance, it seeks to educate our children in its own image, and it promises a utopian future if we would only grant it enough power. In short, the state has become a jealous god. It does not want rivals. And when men begin to believe their own press releases, when they start to inhale the incense of their own propaganda, they put themselves on a collision course with the one true and living God, who has declared, "My glory I will not give to another" (Isaiah 42:8).
The story of Herod's demise is not a quaint historical anecdote about a petty tyrant in a dusty corner of the Roman Empire. It is a timeless, brutal, and necessary lesson on the nature of pride and the sovereignty of God. It is a case study in what happens when a man, representing the pretensions of the state, accepts the worship that is due to God alone. This is not just a story about Herod Agrippa I; it is a story about every political system, every ruler, and every ideology that sets itself up against the throne of Jesus Christ.
Luke, the historian, places this account with deliberate care. In the first part of this chapter, Herod stretched out his hand to persecute the church. He killed James, the brother of John, with the sword. He saw that it pleased the Jews, so he arrested Peter also, intending to make a public spectacle of him after the Passover. But God intervened. An angel of the Lord broke Peter out of a maximum-security prison. Herod, in his impotent fury, executed the guards. Now, in our text, we see the final act of this drama. Herod, who postured as the master of life and death, will meet the one who truly holds that power. This is the ultimate showdown: the pride of man versus the glory of God.
The Text
Now he was very angry with the people of Tyre and Sidon; and with one accord they came to him, and having won over Blastus the king’s chamberlain, they were asking for peace, because their country was fed by the king’s country. And on an appointed day Herod, having put on his royal apparel and sitting on the judgment seat, began delivering an address to them. And the assembly kept crying out, “The voice of a god and not of a man!” And immediately an angel of the Lord struck him because he did not give God the glory, and he was eaten by worms and breathed his last.
(Acts 12:20-23 LSB)
The Politics of Daily Bread (v. 20)
We begin with the mundane reality of political maneuvering.
"Now he was very angry with the people of Tyre and Sidon; and with one accord they came to him, and having won over Blastus the king’s chamberlain, they were asking for peace, because their country was fed by the king’s country." (Acts 12:20)
Before the divine drama unfolds, Luke shows us the grubby machinery of human power. Herod is angry. We are not told why, because the specific reason is irrelevant. It is the perennial anger of the powerful. Tyre and Sidon, coastal cities to the north, had a problem. Their supply chain was dependent on Herod's territory. Their country "was fed by the king's country." When the state controls the bread, it controls the people.
So what do they do? They engage in some classic political lobbying. They cannot approach the king directly in his anger, so they find a back door. They win over Blastus, the king's chamberlain. Blastus is the man who has the king's ear, the chief of staff, the trusted insider. A bribe was likely involved. This is how the world works. It is a world of threats, economic leverage, and backroom deals. It all seems very important, very strategic, and very human. But we must see that the sovereign God of Heaven and Earth presides over all of it. He is sovereign over Herod's anger, over the grain shipments, and over Blastus's loyalties. The kings of the earth set themselves, but the Lord holds them in derision (Psalm 2).
The Performance of Pride (v. 21-22)
The stage is now set for Herod's final, fatal performance.
"And on an appointed day Herod, having put on his royal apparel and sitting on the judgment seat, began delivering an address to them. And the assembly kept crying out, 'The voice of a god and not of a man!'" (Acts 12:21-22 LSB)
This is political theater. An "appointed day" is set for the reconciliation. Herod does not just show up; he makes an entrance. He puts on his "royal apparel." The Jewish historian Josephus, in a parallel account, tells us that Herod came into the theater at Caesarea dressed in a garment made wholly of silver. When the morning sun caught the silver, it shone marvelously, glittering in a way that struck fear and awe into those who looked upon him.
He takes his seat on the "judgment seat," the bema, a raised platform of authority. From this position of manufactured glory, he delivers his address. He is the magnanimous king, the powerful ruler, the savior of Tyre and Sidon. And the crowd, a delegation of flatterers desperate to secure their food supply, plays their part. They cry out, "The voice of a god and not of a man!"
This is not just hyperbole; it is blasphemy. It is the deification of a mere mortal. And this is the central temptation of all political power. The state always wants to be god. It wants to be the ultimate authority, the final word. And Herod, in this moment, has a choice. He can rebuke the blasphemy. He can deflect the glory. He can point to the one true God who gives the grain and who raises up and puts down kings. But he does not. He accepts it. He breathes in the toxic fumes of their worship. He allows the lie to stand. And in that moment, he signs his own death warrant.
The Divine Response (v. 23)
God's reaction is swift, terrifying, and perfectly just.
"And immediately an angel of the Lord struck him because he did not give God the glory, and he was eaten by worms and breathed his last." (Acts 12:23 LSB)
Notice the word "immediately." There is no long delay. God's patience with this kind of open blasphemy is short. An angel of the Lord, the same kind of being who delivered Peter from Herod's prison, now delivers Herod to his grave. The angelic realm is active in the affairs of men, both for salvation and for judgment.
And Luke gives us the precise reason for the judgment. It was not because he was a bad ruler, or because he was angry, or because he made a deal with Blastus. It was "because he did not give God the glory." This is the fundamental sin of mankind, as Paul lays out in Romans 1. We fail to honor God as God or give thanks to Him. All sin flows from this root. God is jealous for His glory. He will not share it. To accept worship is to steal what belongs to Him alone, and God is not mocked.
The manner of his death is a masterpiece of divine irony. He was "eaten by worms and breathed his last." Josephus tells us it was a painful abdominal illness that lasted five days. The man who dressed in shining silver, who was hailed as a god, is consumed from the inside out by maggots. The glorious exterior is revealed to be nothing but a shell for corruption and decay. The man who postured as a god is shown to be nothing more than a meal for the lowest of creatures. It is a grotesque and humiliating end, designed to show the world the true nature of all human pride. You are dust, and to dust you shall return. Your pomp and your power are a vapor, here today and gone tomorrow, food for worms.
Conclusion: The Unconquerable Word
This story would be a grim and terrifying morality tale if it ended there. But Luke, with divine genius, gives us the glorious contrast in the very next verse. After describing Herod's gruesome end, he writes, "But the word of God grew and multiplied" (Acts 12:24).
This is the point. This is the lesson for the church in every age. The tyrant who persecuted the church, who killed James and imprisoned Peter, is dead. His body is rotting. His kingdom is a historical footnote. But the Word of God, the gospel of the kingdom he tried to stamp out, is growing. It is multiplying. It is marching on, unstoppable and unconquerable.
The kingdoms of men are all like Herod. They rise in splendor and pride, they demand our worship, they make their threats, and they persecute the saints. And one by one, they are eaten by worms. The Babylonian empire, the Persian empire, the Greek empire, the Roman empire, the Soviet empire, they are all in the dustbin of history. But the Church of Jesus Christ is still here. The Word of God is still growing and multiplying across the globe.
Therefore, we are not to fear the Herods of our day. We are not to be impressed by their silver robes or their thundering speeches from the judgment seat. We are not to flatter them or offer them the worship that belongs to God alone. We are to be faithful. We are to preach the Word. We are to live humbly before our God, giving Him all the glory for our every breath and every provision.
Herod's story is a sober warning against pride. But it is also a glorious encouragement for the people of God. Our King is on the throne. His enemies will be made His footstool. Their pride will be their undoing. But His Word will endure forever. The worms get the tyrants, but the Word gets the world.