The Centrality of the Resurrection Bomb
Introduction: A Holy Commotion
We live in an age that prizes a certain kind of peace. It is the peace of the committee meeting, the peace of the faculty lounge, the peace of the compromised consensus. It is a peace that is purchased at the expense of truth. When everyone agrees not to talk about the things that matter most, you can achieve a very respectable, and very dead, tranquility. But the gospel of Jesus Christ is not, and has never been, an agent of that kind of peace. Jesus Himself said that He came not to bring peace, but a sword. The truth, when it lands in a fallen world, does not soothe; it detonates.
Here in Acts 23, the Apostle Paul, a prisoner for the cause of Christ, stands before the Sanhedrin, the highest court of the Jews. This is the same body that condemned our Lord. It is a viper's nest of political maneuvering, theological compromise, and raw unbelief. And what does Paul do? He does not seek common ground for the sake of a quiet life. He does not try to placate the warring factions. No, he identifies the central, non-negotiable truth of the Christian faith, the resurrection of the dead, and he lobs it like a grenade into the middle of the assembly. The result is not a polite discussion. The result is a riot.
We must understand that Paul's tactic here is not one of mere cleverness or worldly shrewdness, as though he were just trying to save his own skin by turning his enemies against each other. That is to read the text with secular eyes. Paul is a preacher of the gospel, and he preaches the gospel at all times, even when on trial for his life. And the gospel he preaches is the gospel of the resurrection. By forcing this issue, Paul is not just employing a tactic; he is defining the conflict. The central fight, the ultimate controversy between the world and the Church, is not over ethics, or social programs, or religious niceties. The central fight is over an empty tomb in Jerusalem. Is Jesus risen, or is He not? Everything hangs on that question.
Paul understands that the resurrection is not one doctrine among many. It is the linchpin of the whole Christian system. If Christ is not raised, our faith is futile, and we are still in our sins. If Christ is not raised, we are of all men most to be pitied. But if He is raised, then everything changes. If He is raised, then He is exactly who He said He was: the Son of God, the Lord of heaven and earth. And if that is true, then every knee must bow, and every theological system that denies it must be shattered. Paul brings this shattering truth into the Sanhedrin, and the room, quite literally, comes apart at the seams.
The Text
But knowing that one group were Sadducees and the other Pharisees, Paul began crying out in the Sanhedrin, “Brothers, I am a Pharisee, a son of Pharisees; I am on trial for the hope and resurrection of the dead!” As he said this, there was dissension between the Pharisees and Sadducees, and the assembly was divided. For the Sadducees say that there is no resurrection, nor an angel, nor a spirit, but the Pharisees acknowledge them all. And there occurred a great outcry; and some of the scribes of the Pharisaic party stood up and began to argue heatedly, saying, “We find nothing wrong with this man. Suppose a spirit or an angel has spoken to him?” And as a great dissension was developing, because the commander was afraid Paul would be torn to pieces by them, he ordered the troops to go down and take him away from them by force, and bring him into the barracks.
(Acts 23:6-10 LSB)
The Strategic Declaration (v. 6)
We begin with Paul's masterful stroke. He perceives the composition of his audience and acts accordingly.
"But knowing that one group were Sadducees and the other Pharisees, Paul began crying out in the Sanhedrin, 'Brothers, I am a Pharisee, a son of Pharisees; I am on trial for the hope and resurrection of the dead!'" (Acts 23:6)
Paul is not being disingenuous here. He is a Pharisee. He was trained by Gamaliel, one of the most respected Pharisees of his day. And while he has come to see the fulfillment of all the Pharisees' hopes in Jesus, he has not abandoned the core of their theology. The Pharisees were the conservatives of their day. They believed the whole Old Testament. They believed in the supernatural, in angels, in spirits, and most importantly, in the final resurrection of the body. They were wrong about Jesus, tragically so, but their foundational commitments were far closer to the truth than their rivals.
The Sadducees, on the other hand, were the theological liberals. They were the deists of first-century Judaism. They accepted only the Pentateuch, the first five books of Moses, and rejected the rest. They were the materialists, denying any reality beyond what they could see and touch. No resurrection, no angels, no spirits. They were the establishment party, wealthy, aristocratic, and politically connected to Rome. They wanted a tidy, manageable religion that didn't upset the political order or make any inconvenient supernatural demands.
So when Paul declares, "I am a Pharisee," and "I am on trial for the hope and resurrection of the dead," he is doing two things at once. First, he is telling the absolute truth. The entire reason he is in chains is because he proclaims that a specific man, Jesus of Nazareth, has been raised from the dead, thereby guaranteeing the future resurrection of all who believe. This is the hope of Israel. This is not some new-fangled doctrine; it is the fulfillment of what the prophets had always promised. Second, he is driving a wedge deep into the crack that already existed in the Sanhedrin. He is forcing every man in that room to declare his allegiance, not for or against Paul, but for or against the foundational hope of their fathers.
The Inevitable Division (v. 7-8)
The effect of Paul's declaration is immediate and explosive. Truth, when spoken clearly, always forces a division.
"As he said this, there was dissension between the Pharisees and Sadducees, and the assembly was divided. For the Sadducees say that there is no resurrection, nor an angel, nor a spirit, but the Pharisees acknowledge them all." (Acts 23:7-8 LSB)
The assembly was divided. The Greek word used here is schizo, from which we get our words schism and schizophrenia. The council was literally ripped in two. This is what the gospel does. It does not create unity between truth and error. It exposes the fundamental disunity that was always there, papered over by polite pretense. The Pharisees and Sadducees could maintain a coalition of convenience as long as they were united in their opposition to Jesus and His apostle. But the moment the core issue, the resurrection, is put on the table, their alliance shatters.
Luke gives us the theological scorecard. The Sadducees were the party of "no." No resurrection, no angel, no spirit. Theirs was a flattened, sterile, naturalistic worldview. The Pharisees, for all their hypocrisy and legalism, which Jesus consistently condemned, at least lived in a world inhabited by God, a world where the supernatural was real. They "acknowledged them all."
This is a permanent feature of the spiritual landscape. You will always have the Sadducees, the theological liberals, who are embarrassed by the supernatural and are constantly trying to trim the faith down to fit within the cramped confines of what modern, secular man finds plausible. And you will always have the Pharisees, the conservatives, who rightly hold to the foundational truths of Scripture, even if they are sometimes guilty of adding their own traditions and missing the heart of the matter. Paul sides with the truth, wherever it is found. He sides with the Pharisees on the resurrection, because on that point, they were right and the Sadducees were dead wrong.
An Unexpected Defense (v. 9)
The division erupts into a full-blown shouting match, and Paul receives a defense from the most unlikely of quarters.
"And there occurred a great outcry; and some of the scribes of the Pharisaic party stood up and began to argue heatedly, saying, 'We find nothing wrong with this man. Suppose a spirit or an angel has spoken to him?'" (Acts 23:9 LSB)
Notice the irony. The very men who had been complicit in persecuting the church now find themselves defending its chief apostle. Why? Because Paul has framed the debate in such a way that to condemn him is to condemn their own core beliefs. Their party loyalty, for a moment, trumps their opposition to the gospel. They are arguing heatedly, not out of a newfound love for Paul, but out of a long-held hatred for the Sadducees and their damnable heresies.
Their defense is fascinating. "We find nothing wrong with this man." This is the second time a major party has had to declare Paul's innocence. The Roman commander couldn't find a crime, and now the Pharisees can't find a crime. But then they go a step further. "Suppose a spirit or an angel has spoken to him?" This is a direct shot at the Sadducees, who denied the existence of both. But it is also a remarkable concession. Paul's entire testimony was that the risen Jesus had spoken to him on the Damascus road. The Pharisees are not ready to say "Jesus," but they are willing to entertain the possibility of a supernatural encounter. They would rather Paul have been visited by a generic angel than have the Sadducees win the argument. This is how God, in His providence, uses even the internal squabbles of His enemies to protect His servants and advance His truth.
Providential Rescue (v. 10)
The theological brawl escalates to the point of physical violence, and the secular authority is forced to intervene once more.
"And as a great dissension was developing, because the commander was afraid Paul would be torn to pieces by them, he ordered the troops to go down and take him away from them by force, and bring him into the barracks." (Acts 23:10 LSB)
The debate is no longer academic. The "great dissension" is so violent that the Roman commander fears for Paul's life. These esteemed religious leaders, the spiritual guides of Israel, are about to tear a man limb from limb over a theological dispute. This reveals the bankruptcy of their religion. When you reject the Prince of Peace, all you are left with is violence. When you reject the truth of the resurrection, your only argument is brute force.
And so, for the third time in two days, Paul is rescued by the pagan Romans from the murderous intentions of his own countrymen. God's sovereign plan unfolds in remarkable ways. He uses the theological convictions of the Pharisees to defend Paul, and He uses the Roman military to save him. The commander, Claudius Lysias, is no friend of the gospel. He is just a bureaucrat trying to keep order. But in God's economy, this pagan officer becomes Paul's bodyguard, ensuring that the apostle will live to testify another day. God's purposes are never thwarted. He can use the internal contradictions of a false religious system and the self-interest of a pagan empire to achieve His ends.
Conclusion: The Unifying, Dividing Truth
What are we to take from this chaotic scene? We must see, first and foremost, the absolute centrality of the resurrection. This is the hill to die on. This is the truth that divides all of humanity. You are either with the Sadducees, living in a cold, dead, materialist universe where death has the final say, or you are with the apostle Paul, living in a world charged with the grandeur of God, a world where a tomb is empty and a Savior is alive.
This is not a truth that allows for neutrality. When it is proclaimed, it causes a great dissension. It divides fathers from sons, and friends from neighbors. It divides the entire world into two camps: those who bow to the risen King, and those who rage against Him. Our task as the church is not to try and broker a peace treaty between these two camps. Our task is to do what Paul did: to cry out, clearly and without compromise, that our hope is in the resurrection of the dead.
When we do this, we should expect a commotion. We should expect the Sadducees of our age, the secularists and theological liberals, to mock and deny. We should expect the Pharisees, the religious conservatives who have not yet bowed to Christ, to be thrown into confusion, sometimes defending us for the wrong reasons. And we should expect the world's authorities to be bewildered, seeing no crime but being forced to deal with the uproar.
But through it all, we must trust in the sovereign providence of God. The same Lord who stood with Paul in the barracks that night, promising him that he would testify in Rome, stands with us now. He will protect His messengers. He will advance His gospel. And He will use every bit of the world's chaos, every political division, every theological squabble, to accomplish His ultimate purpose: the gathering of His people through the proclamation of His Son, risen from the dead.