A Shrewd Indifference
Introduction: The God-Complex of the Modern State
We live in an age of jurisdictional chaos. The modern secular state believes itself to be God, and not a particularly humble one at that. It believes it has the authority to define what a marriage is, what a human is, what a woman is. It wants to peer into our churches and tell us what constitutes hate speech from the pulpit. It wants to be the ultimate arbiter of all disputes, whether they be matters of crime or matters of conscience. The state has forgotten its place because it has forgotten its God. It believes that because it has the biggest guns, it has the final say on everything. This is the essence of totalitarianism, a sin that begins not in a legislative chamber, but in the heart of man when he rejects the Lordship of Jesus Christ.
Into this modern confusion, our text from Acts lands with a sharp, clarifying report. Here we have a pagan Roman official, a man who likely worshipped Jupiter and the whole pantheon of Roman deities, who nevertheless understood something that our own rulers, marinated in generations of secular hubris, cannot seem to grasp. He understood the concept of jurisdiction. He knew, not because he was a theologian, but because he was a Roman with a modicum of common sense, that it was not his job to referee the theological squabbles of a subject people. He knew the difference between a crime and a controversy.
This incident is far more than a historical curiosity. It is a profound lesson on the nature of civil government, the tactics of the Church's enemies, and the subtle providence of God. The enemies of the gospel have always had one primary tactic, and that is to weaponize the power of the state against the people of God. They want to use Caesar's sword to settle their arguments with Christ. And here in Corinth, we see a striking instance where God uses a disinterested pagan to blunt that very sword, preserving the apostle and the gospel for another day. Gallio's actions provide us with a template, albeit an imperfect one, for what a limited government ought to look like, and his famous indifference shows us the limits of that pagan wisdom.
The Text
But while Gallio was proconsul of Achaia, the Jews with one accord rose up against Paul and brought him before the judgment seat, saying, "This man persuades men to worship God contrary to the law." But when Paul was about to open his mouth, Gallio said to the Jews, "If it were a wrongdoing or vicious crime, O Jews, it would be reasonable for me to put up with you; but if there are questions about words and names and your own law, see to it yourselves; I am not willing to be a judge of these matters." And he drove them away from the judgment seat. And they all took hold of Sosthenes, the leader of the synagogue, and began beating him in front of the judgment seat. But Gallio was not concerned about any of these things.
(Acts 18:12-17 LSB)
Weaponizing the State (vv. 12-13)
The conflict begins with the familiar pattern of enraged opposition.
"But while Gallio was proconsul of Achaia, the Jews with one accord rose up against Paul and brought him before the judgment seat, saying, 'This man persuades men to worship God contrary to the law.'" (Acts 18:12-13 LSB)
Notice the phrase "with one accord." The gospel creates true unity in the Spirit. Malice and unbelief create their own kind of unity, a conspiratorial unity, a mob unity. These are the same men who had been opposing and blaspheming Paul in the synagogue. Having lost the theological argument, they now resort to force. And because they do not have the authority to use force themselves, they run to the one who does: the Roman proconsul.
They bring Paul before the "judgment seat," the Bema. This was the official platform in the city's forum where the magistrate heard cases and dispensed justice. This is a formal, legal proceeding. And what is the charge? "This man persuades men to worship God contrary to the law." This is a cunningly ambiguous accusation. Which law are they talking about? They mean their own Mosaic law, of course. But they are speaking to a Roman. They are hoping Gallio will hear the word "law" and assume it means Roman law. They want him to see Paul as a disturber of the peace, the leader of an illegal cult, a threat to the Pax Romana. They are presenting a theological disagreement as a civil crime.
This has been the tactic of the Church's enemies from the Sanhedrin to the Supreme Court. They cannot defeat the gospel with arguments, so they try to defeat it with litigation. They try to classify Christian conviction as criminal activity. They want to use the coercive power of the state to shut the mouths of God's messengers.
A Pagan's Jurisprudence (vv. 14-15)
Paul is ready to make his defense, but God has already prepared a defense for him from a most unlikely source.
"But when Paul was about to open his mouth, Gallio said to the Jews, 'If it were a wrongdoing or vicious crime, O Jews, it would be reasonable for me to put up with you; but if there are questions about words and names and your own law, see to it yourselves; I am not willing to be a judge of these matters.'" (Acts 18:14-15 LSB)
God is sovereign over all things, including the timing of apostolic speeches and the rulings of pagan judges. Paul is silenced, not by his enemies, but by his unwitting protector. Gallio cuts right to the heart of the matter with a razor-sharp distinction. He lays out the two categories of cases. The first is "wrongdoing or vicious crime." This refers to matters of civil and criminal law, things like theft, assault, murder, and insurrection. This, he says, is his proper business. This is the sphere of the magistrate. As Paul would later write to the Romans, the magistrate is God's deacon to execute wrath on the wrongdoer (Rom. 13:4).
The second category is "questions about words and names and your own law." Gallio correctly identifies this dispute as a theological one. It is about the interpretation of their religious texts. It is about the identity of a man named Jesus. It is about their internal religious regulations. And on these matters, Gallio declares himself incompetent and unwilling to judge. "See to it yourselves," he says. He is telling them that the Roman Bema is not the place to settle a synagogue dispute.
This is a stunning moment of providential protection. Judaism was a religio licita, a legal religion in the Roman Empire. By dismissing this case as an internal Jewish affair, Gallio was implicitly granting Christianity the same legal protection. He was, in effect, ruling that from Rome's perspective, Christianity was a sect of Judaism, not a new and illegal religion. This was an enormous victory for the early church, and it was won without the apostle saying a single word.
Enforcing the Boundary (v. 16)
Gallio does not just issue a verbal ruling; he acts on it.
"And he drove them away from the judgment seat." (Acts 18:16 LSB)
He clears the court. He will not allow his office to be used for this kind of religious persecution. He enforces the jurisdictional boundary he has just articulated. A magistrate's duty is not just to know the limits of his authority, but to enforce those limits against those who would have him overstep them. He refused to allow his court to become a tool for their theological malice. This is what a ruler with a spine does. He tells the special interest groups, the religious zealots, and the perpetually offended to take their grievances elsewhere if no actual crime has been committed.
The Limits of Indifference (v. 17)
The scene concludes with a burst of violence and a statement of Gallio's now famous detachment.
"And they all took hold of Sosthenes, the leader of the synagogue, and began beating him in front of the judgment seat. But Gallio was not concerned about any of these things." (Acts 18:17 LSB)
The frustrated mob, having failed to get Paul, turns on their own leader. Sosthenes was the ruler of the synagogue, the man who likely brought the case. He failed, and so he becomes the scapegoat. They beat him right there, in front of the Bema. And here we see the other side of Gallio. The line that has made him famous is, "But Gallio was not concerned about any of these things."
Up to this point, we could commend Gallio for his shrewdness. But now his virtue curdles into vice. His proper refusal to judge theology bleeds into an improper refusal to enforce public order. A man is being beaten in his own courtyard, and he does nothing. Why? Because he doesn't care. It is all just a ridiculous squabble to him. His jurisdictional clarity was not rooted in a principled understanding of the fear of God, but in a pragmatic Roman disdain for the passions of conquered peoples. He rightly saw that their theological dispute was not his business. He wrongly concluded that a public assault was also not his business, simply because it was connected to that dispute.
So Gallio is a mixed bag. He is an example of how God can use the practical wisdom of unbelievers for His own purposes. But he is also a warning. A government that is indifferent to God will eventually become a government that is indifferent to justice. His concern was for administrative tidiness, not righteousness. And that is the best the world has to offer.
And what of Sosthenes? We should note that when Paul writes his first letter to this very church in Corinth, he names his co-author: "Paul, called as an apostle of Jesus Christ by the will of God, and Sosthenes our brother" (1 Cor. 1:1). It is highly likely that this is the same man. The beating he received for failing to prosecute Paul may well have been the very instrument God used to bring him to faith in the man he was persecuting. God's providence is a wonderful and intricate thing. He uses a pagan judge to protect his apostle and a mob beating to convert a future co-laborer.
Our Calling in Jurisdictional Chaos
What then do we take from this? First, we must recognize that God is utterly sovereign over the affairs of men, including the machinations of civil government. He can raise up a Cyrus to deliver his people, and He can use the cool detachment of a Gallio to protect them. Our ultimate security is not in political activism, but in the unshakable throne of God.
Second, we must learn the lesson Gallio taught, but for the right reasons. We must insist on jurisdictional separation. The state has its God-given role: to punish evil and praise good (1 Peter 2:14). The church has its role: to preach the Word, administer the sacraments, and exercise church discipline. We must not go to the state to fight our spiritual battles, and we must resist with every fiber of our being when the state tries to invade the spiritual jurisdiction of the church.
When the government presumes to tell the church who it must hire, what it must celebrate, or what parts of the Bible it may preach, it is making a Gallio-like error in reverse. It is wading into questions of "words and names and our own law," and we must have the courage to tell it to get out. We must tell the magistrate that his authority stops at the church door.
Finally, unlike Gallio, we must care. He "was not concerned about any of these things." The Christian cannot be unconcerned about anything. Because Christ is Lord of all, we are concerned with true worship. We are concerned with the "words and names" of our King. But we are also concerned with public justice. We are concerned when a man is beaten in the street. Our worldview is totalizing, because the Lordship of our God is totalizing. We do not seek a shrewd indifference, but a passionate and faithful engagement with every area of life under the authority of the risen Christ. We care about it all, because He is Lord of it all.