Commentary - Acts 25:13-22

Bird's-eye view

In this passage, we see the machinery of Roman provincial government grinding away, and in the middle of it, the Apostle Paul, a prisoner whose case is becoming increasingly perplexing to the secular authorities. The new governor, Festus, finds himself holding a political hot potato left to him by his predecessor, Felix. In an attempt to understand the situation and perhaps to impress his royal guests, King Agrippa II and his sister Bernice, Festus recounts the bizarre trial he has just overseen. His summary to Agrippa reveals the fundamental clash of worldviews at the heart of the book of Acts. To the Romans, this is a squabble over obscure religious superstitions. To the Jews, it is a matter of covenantal life and death. But to the Christians, and to the reality of the cosmos, it is about the central fact of all history: the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. The passage masterfully uses the political maneuvering of men to highlight the serene and steady sovereignty of God, who is working all these events to bring His apostle, and therefore His gospel, to the heart of the empire in Rome.

What we have here is a divine comedy of sorts. The powerful and worldly rulers think they are in charge, discussing a troublesome prisoner over what amounts to a state visit. But in reality, they are bit players in a drama directed by God. Festus is baffled, Agrippa is intrigued, and Paul is waiting patiently for the outworking of God's promise that he would bear witness in Rome. The conversation sets the stage for Paul's great defense before Agrippa in the next chapter, showcasing how the gospel confronts and confounds the wisdom of the world.

Outline

Context In Acts

This section finds Paul in Caesarea, having been a prisoner there for two years under the corrupt governor Felix (Acts 24). Felix had left Paul in prison as a favor to the Jews. The new governor, Porcius Festus, has just arrived and is getting up to speed on his new responsibilities. Immediately upon visiting Jerusalem, he was accosted by the Jewish leadership, who were still venomously seeking Paul's death (Acts 25:1-3). Festus, demonstrating a basic commitment to Roman legal procedure, refused to have Paul summarily condemned and arranged a trial back in Caesarea. That trial was a sham, with the Jews making wild, unproven accusations (Acts 25:7). Seeing that Festus might be swayed by political pressure to move the trial to Jerusalem (which would have been an ambush), Paul played his trump card: his Roman citizenship and his right to appeal to Caesar (Acts 25:11). This passage, the conversation between Festus and Agrippa, happens immediately after that appeal. It serves as a bridge, explaining why Paul, a Roman citizen who has appealed to the highest court, must now stand and give a defense before a regional client king. It is all part of God's plan to give the gospel a hearing at every level of human authority.

Key Issues

The Gospel Before Kings

It is one of the great themes of Scripture that God's truth is not meant to be whispered in corners. It is a public truth, a truth that lays claim to all of reality, and therefore it must be proclaimed before the rulers of this age. The Lord had told Ananias at the very beginning that Paul was a chosen instrument to carry His name "before the Gentiles and kings and the children of Israel" (Acts 9:15). Here we see that promise coming to fruition in a remarkable way. Paul is not seeking an audience with King Agrippa; the king is seeking an audience with him. This is not because Paul is a compelling political figure, but because the message he carries is so disruptive to the status quo that the world's authorities cannot ignore it.

Festus, the pragmatic Roman, is simply confused. He deals in riots, taxes, and insurrections. He understands crime. But he is utterly at sea when it comes to a debate about a man who was dead but is now supposedly alive. Agrippa, on the other hand, is a different case. As a Herodian, he is steeped in the politics and religion of the Jews. He knows the vocabulary. He understands the messianic expectation. This makes him both a more knowledgeable and a more culpable hearer of the gospel. God, in His providence, is arranging for the gospel to be presented not just to a bewildered pagan, but to a man who has just enough knowledge to be without excuse. This is a formal, high-level hearing, and it demonstrates that the Christian faith is not a private hobby, but a challenge to the lordship of every earthly king.

Verse by Verse Commentary

13 Now when several days had passed, King Agrippa and Bernice arrived at Caesarea and greeted Festus.

The curtain rises on a scene of political pomp. King Agrippa is Herod Agrippa II, the last of the Herodian dynasty. He was the son of the Agrippa I who executed James and was eaten by worms in Acts 12. He ruled over territories to the north and east of Judea and had been given the authority by Rome to oversee the affairs of the temple in Jerusalem. Bernice was his sister, and their relationship was notoriously incestuous, a matter of public scandal. They arrive in Caesarea, the Roman capital of the province, to pay a courtesy call on the new governor, Festus. This is standard political procedure, a bit of glad-handing and alliance-building. But Luke includes it to show us the hand of God moving the chess pieces into place. These powerful, decadent, and worldly rulers are about to have an appointment with the gospel.

14-15 And while they were spending many days there, Festus laid Paul’s case before the king, saying, “There is a man who was left as a prisoner by Felix; and when I was at Jerusalem, the chief priests and the elders of the Jews brought charges against him, asking for a sentence of condemnation against him.

During the extended visit, Festus brings up his problem prisoner. It is likely a mix of seeking advice and engaging in a bit of courtly conversation. He gives Agrippa the backstory. He inherited this problem from Felix. As soon as he showed up in Jerusalem, the Jewish leadership, the chief priests and the elders, were all over him about this man Paul. Notice their demand: they were not asking for a trial, but for a "sentence of condemnation." Their minds were already made up. They wanted Festus to be their executioner, to rubber-stamp the verdict they had already reached. This reveals their utter corruption and their hatred for both Roman justice and the gospel Paul preached.

16 I answered them that it is not the custom of the Romans to hand over any man before the accused meets his accusers face to face and has an opportunity to make his defense against the charges.

Festus here presents himself as a model of Roman jurisprudence. He puffs out his chest a bit, explaining to Agrippa that Romans have standards. They do not just "hand over" a man for execution based on accusations alone. There must be due process. The accused has the right to confront his accusers and to offer a defense. This was, in theory, a noble principle of Roman law. Of course, the Romans could be just as brutal and arbitrary as anyone else when it suited them, but in this case, Festus followed the book. He is, in his own way, bearing an unwitting testimony to the fact that Paul was not being railroaded by the empire, but was rather being hounded by the corrupt religious establishment of his own people.

17-18 So after they had assembled here, I did not delay, but on the next day took my seat on the judgment seat and ordered the man to be brought before me. When the accusers stood up, they were not bringing any charges against him for the evil deeds I was expecting,

Festus continues his account, emphasizing his own efficiency. He did not delay. He convened the court the very next day. He sat on the bema, the official judgment seat, ready to hear a serious case. And then came the great anticlimax. He was expecting to hear charges of sedition, rebellion, murder, or some other capital crime that would concern a Roman governor. But when the accusers stood up, that is not what they talked about at all. Their charges were, from his perspective, a whole lot of nothing.

19 but they had some points of disagreement with him about their own religion and about a certain Jesus, a dead man whom Paul asserted to be alive.

This verse is the crux of the matter, and it is a masterpiece of dismissive understatement. Festus boils the entire conflict down to two things. First, it was about "their own religion," or more accurately, their own superstition (deisidaimonias). To a secular Roman, it was all just bizarre religious squabbling. Second, it was about "a certain Jesus." He uses the indefinite pronoun, as though Jesus were some obscure figure of no importance. And the central point of contention? Jesus was dead, but Paul kept insisting He was alive. Festus delivers this line as the punchline to a strange story. He has no idea that he has just stated the single most important fact in the history of the universe. The resurrection of Jesus Christ is not one "point of disagreement" among many; it is the pivot upon which all of history turns. The world is divided into two camps: those who know Jesus is alive, and those who, like Festus, think He is just a dead man.

20-21 And being perplexed about how to investigate such matters, I was asking whether he was willing to go to Jerusalem and there to be tried on these matters. But when Paul appealed to be held in custody for the Emperor’s decision, I ordered him to be kept in custody until I send him to Caesar.”

Festus admits his own incompetence. He was "perplexed." These were not legal matters he could adjudicate. So, he made a suggestion that seemed reasonable to him: move the trial to Jerusalem, where the religious experts could hash it out. Of course, he omits the fact that he was likely trying to curry favor with the Jewish leaders (Acts 25:9). But Paul saw the trap immediately and invoked his right as a Roman citizen to appeal his case directly to the emperor in Rome. The appeal was a non-negotiable demand. Once made, Festus had no choice but to grant it. He "ordered him to be kept in custody" until he could arrange for transport to Rome. Paul has now officially punched his ticket to the imperial city, not as a tourist, but as a prisoner for the gospel.

22 Then Agrippa said to Festus, “I also would like to hear the man myself.” “Tomorrow,” he said, “you shall hear him.”

The report has its intended effect, but not in the way Festus might have thought. Agrippa's curiosity is piqued. Unlike Festus, Agrippa knows something of the Jewish "superstition." He has heard of the messianic prophecies. He has likely heard rumors about this new sect of Christians. He wants to hear this strange man for himself. Perhaps it was intellectual curiosity. Perhaps it was a desire for some entertainment. Whatever the motive, God uses it. Festus readily agrees. "Tomorrow, you shall hear him." The stage is now set for one of the great scenes in the book of Acts: the shackled apostle proclaiming the risen Christ to the king, the governor, and all the assembled nobility of Caesarea.

Application

This passage is a powerful reminder that the central claims of Christianity are deeply offensive and utterly baffling to the unregenerate mind. To Festus, the resurrection was nonsense, a silly point of disagreement about a dead man. The world has not changed. When we preach Christ crucified and risen, we should not be surprised when the world responds with a mixture of contempt and confusion. The gospel is not one option on a religious smorgasbord; it is a declaration that a dead man named Jesus is, in fact, alive and is the rightful Lord of all creation. This claim rearranges all the furniture in the world's living room.

We also see the quiet sovereignty of God at work through the mundane processes of politics and law. Festus, Agrippa, and Bernice are all pursuing their own agendas of power, pleasure, and prestige. They think they are in control. But they are merely instruments in God's hand, arranging a platform for the gospel to be heard. We should take courage from this. Our political leaders, our cultural elites, may be ignorant of God, or hostile to Him, but they do not sit one inch above His authority. He moves kings and governors like pieces on a board to accomplish His good purposes. Our job is not to fret about the headlines, but to be faithful witnesses like Paul, ready to give a reason for the hope that is in us, whether in a prison cell or a king's court. For we know that the man they think is dead is very much alive, and He is Lord.