Commentary - Acts 25:23-27

Bird's-eye view

In this short but revealing passage, we see the machinery of worldly power on full display, contrasted with the quiet dignity of a single, faithful apostle. The scene is set with great ceremony: King Agrippa and his sister Bernice arrive with "great pomp," accompanied by military commanders and the city's elite. This is the world's attempt to project authority and significance. Into this glittering assembly, a lone prisoner, Paul, is brought in. The Roman governor, Festus, finds himself in a bureaucratic bind. He knows Paul is innocent of any capital crime, yet he is under immense political pressure from the Jewish leaders. Furthermore, he has to send Paul to Caesar but has no coherent charges to write in his report. The entire spectacle is an elaborate, high-level hearing convened because a pagan governor is embarrassed by his inability to articulate what the fuss is all about. The passage masterfully sets the stage for Paul's great defense in the next chapter, highlighting the collision of two kingdoms: the ostentatious but ultimately powerless kingdom of man, and the humble but invincible kingdom of God, represented by His chained ambassador.

What we are witnessing is the sovereign hand of God orchestrating events to fulfill His promise that Paul would bear His name before Gentiles and kings (Acts 9:15). Festus thinks he is solving a political problem. Agrippa thinks he is being entertained by a curious case. But God is positioning His servant to proclaim the gospel at the highest levels of society. The irony is thick: the men in robes and armor are the ones who are truly trapped, by their political ambitions, their ignorance, and their sin. The man in chains is the only one in the room who is truly free.

Outline

Context In Acts

This scene is the culmination of a long series of trials and hearings that began with Paul's arrest in Jerusalem in Acts 21. After being saved from a lynch mob, Paul has defended himself before the Jewish council (Acts 23), the governor Felix (Acts 24), and now Felix's successor, Festus. Throughout these encounters, two things have become clear: Paul is innocent of any crime against Roman law, and the Jewish leadership is implacably determined to have him killed. Frustrated by Festus's political maneuvering and seeing no hope for a fair trial in Judea, Paul has exercised his right as a Roman citizen and appealed to Caesar (Acts 25:11). This act has taken the case out of Festus's hands and set Paul on the path to Rome. The current hearing before King Agrippa is not a formal trial; the verdict is already in, so to speak, Paul is going to Rome. Rather, it is an advisory hearing, an informal investigation requested by a flustered governor who needs help from a king who knows more about Jewish customs. This setting provides the perfect, God-ordained platform for Paul to give one of his most powerful and complete testimonies, which Luke records in detail in the following chapter.

Key Issues

Pomp and Paperwork

It is easy to get caught up in the drama of Paul's trials and miss the subtle humor and irony that Luke injects into the narrative. Here we have the highest authorities in the region, a king, his consort, a Roman governor, military tribunes, and civic leaders, all gathered in a grand hall. The Greek word for "pomp" is phantasia, from which we get our word "fantasy." It describes a showy, ostentatious display. They are putting on a grand production, a piece of political theater. And what is the central crisis that has occasioned this magnificent gathering? The governor has to fill out a form. He has a prisoner to send to the emperor, and he can't figure out what to write in the "charges" section of the paperwork. The entire might of the Roman administrative state and the Herodian client kingdom is stymied by a Jewish tentmaker whose only "crime" is believing in the resurrection of the dead. This is a beautiful illustration of how the gospel turns the world upside down. The powers that be, who think they are managing history, are shown to be confused and impotent bureaucrats, while the real historical force is the testimony of one man who knows the risen Christ.

Verse by Verse Commentary

23 So, on the next day when Agrippa came together with Bernice amid great pomp, and entered the hall accompanied by the commanders and the prominent men of the city, at the order of Festus, Paul was brought in.

Luke, the careful historian, paints the scene for us. This is not a backroom meeting. It is a full-dress public event. Agrippa and Bernice, who were siblings and also in an incestuous relationship, represent the moral and spiritual bankruptcy of the ruling class. They arrive with "great pomp," a fantasy of power. They are joined by the military leadership (chiliarchois, commanders of a thousand men) and the leading citizens. This is the establishment in all its glory. And then, at Festus's command, the main attraction is brought in: Paul. The contrast could not be starker. The glitter and gold of the world on one side, and on the other, a single, chained prisoner of Jesus Christ. The world thinks it is putting Paul on display, but in reality, God is putting the world on display, exposing its fleeting glory in the light of the eternal kingdom.

24 And Festus said, “King Agrippa, and all you gentlemen here present with us, you see this man about whom all the people of the Jews appealed to me, both at Jerusalem and here, loudly declaring that he ought not to live any longer.

Festus begins his address, and it is essentially a public confession of his predicament. He points to Paul and identifies him as the source of a massive political headache. The entire Jewish population, he says, has been petitioning him, screaming that Paul must be executed. Festus is a politician. He wants to keep the peace and maintain the favor of the local populace. The "loudly declaring" shows the intensity of the pressure he is under. The Jews are not making a reasoned legal argument; they are a mob demanding blood. Festus is caught between their irrational fury and the standards of Roman law.

25 But I found that he had committed nothing worthy of death, and since he himself appealed to the Emperor, I decided to send him.

Here is the crux of the matter, and a repeated theme in Acts. A pagan Roman governor, after examining the case, declares Paul innocent of any capital crime. This is Luke's apologetic point: Christianity is not a threat to the Roman order. The problem is not with the Christians, but with the irrational hatred of the Jews. Festus admits his own verdict: "nothing worthy of death." So why is Paul still a prisoner? Because Festus was a political coward who, just verses earlier, had tried to hand Paul over to the Sanhedrin to curry favor (Acts 25:9). It was only Paul's appeal to Caesar that prevented this miscarriage of justice. Festus presents the decision to send him to Rome as his own considered judgment, but it was forced upon him by Paul's appeal. He is spinning the situation to save face.

26 Yet I have nothing definite about him to write to my lord. Therefore I have brought him before you all and especially before you, King Agrippa, so that after the investigation has taken place, I may have something to write.

Now we get to the embarrassing truth. Festus has to send a report to his "lord" (kyrios), the Emperor Nero. And the report is blank. He has no "definite" or certain charge to write down. This is a precarious position for a provincial governor. Sending a prisoner to the emperor without a clear indictment would make him look incompetent at best, and perhaps even frivolous. So, he turns to Agrippa, who as a Jew, might be able to make some sense of this religious squabble. "Help me," he is essentially saying, "so that I will have something to write." The great Roman legal mind is baffled by a dispute over a resurrected Messiah. He needs a client king to help him with his homework.

27 For it seems absurd to me in sending a prisoner, not to indicate also the charges against him.”

Festus concludes with an understatement that reveals the bankruptcy of the entire proceeding against Paul. The word for "absurd" is alogon, which literally means "unreasonable" or "without logic." He recognizes the sheer irrationality of his situation. Roman procedure, for all its faults, was built on a foundation of reason and law. To send a man in chains across the sea to the highest court in the world without being able to state what he has done wrong is, as Festus admits, illogical. And yet, this is precisely the position that hatred for the gospel has created. The charges against Paul are not legal; they are theological. The Jews hate him because he preaches that a crucified Nazarene is the world's true Lord. And because Festus cannot write "He preaches the resurrection of the dead" on a Roman charge sheet, he is stuck. The gospel has broken his bureaucratic categories.

Application

This passage is a wonderful encouragement for Christians who feel small and insignificant in the face of overwhelming worldly power. The world arrays itself with pomp and ceremony, with titles and armies and impressive buildings. It holds meetings and issues decrees, and it can look very intimidating. But behind the facade, it is often just as confused and illogical as Festus. The world does not know what to do with the claims of Jesus Christ. The resurrection of the dead is a fact of history that breaks all its categories. It cannot be processed by their systems, so they either ignore it, mock it, or try to kill the people who proclaim it.

Like Paul, we are called to stand before rulers and authorities. We may not be in a literal courtroom, but we are in the courtroom of public opinion, in the workplace, in our communities. And like Paul, our great weapon is a clear conscience and a straightforward proclamation of the truth. Festus admitted Paul had done nothing wrong. When we live quiet, peaceable, and righteous lives, we strip our accusers of their ammunition. They are left with nothing but their own irrational hatred of the light.

And finally, we must see the sovereign hand of God in all of this. Festus's bureaucratic embarrassment was God's chosen means of giving Paul an audience with a king. God uses the foolishness and confusion of the world to advance His perfect plan. He can use political gridlock, administrative incompetence, and the self-serving maneuvers of godless rulers to put His people exactly where He wants them, so that the name of Jesus might be proclaimed. Our job is not to be clever political strategists, but to be faithful witnesses, trusting that the Lord of history knows exactly what He is doing with our chains.