Pomp, Circumstance, and a Divine Predicament Text: Acts 25:23-27
Introduction: The Pageantry of Impotence
We come now to a scene that Luke, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, paints with a delicious and almost comical irony. It is a scene of worldly power, dressed up in its Sunday best, utterly flummoxed by one man in chains. Here we have the full regalia of the Roman administrative state and its client kings, a glorious display of pomp and circumstance, and yet they are all gathered together because they have a bureaucratic headache. They have a prisoner, and they don't know what to write on the paperwork.
This is what the world looks like when it has to deal with the gospel. It puts on its most solemn face, arranges its most impressive ceremonies, and then reveals that it is utterly clueless. Agrippa and Bernice arrive "amid great pomp." The Greek word is phantasia, which means display, show, or pageantry. It is where we get our word fantasy. They have entered the hall of fantasy, a world of make-believe power, accompanied by commanders and prominent men. And into this grand illusion walks the Apostle Paul, the only man in the room who is actually connected to reality. The contrast could not be more stark. On the one side, you have the glitter and gold of a doomed order. On the other, you have the ambassador of the King of kings, a man whose citizenship is in heaven, and who is about to turn this formal hearing into a pulpit.
This passage reveals the predicament of secular authority when it is confronted with the claims of Christ. It wants to appear just, reasonable, and in control. But because it has rejected the ultimate source of justice, reason, and control, it finds itself tangled in its own procedures. Festus is in a bind. He knows Paul is innocent of any capital crime, but he also has to appease the Jewish leaders. He has a prisoner who has appealed to Caesar, but he can't send him to the Emperor with a blank charge sheet. That would make him look like an incompetent fool. So he convenes this grand assembly, hoping that King Agrippa, who knows a thing or two about Jewish customs, can help him cook up a plausible accusation. The whole affair is a high-level, political brainstorming session on how to frame an innocent man without looking too unjust.
But God's purposes are not so easily frustrated. This entire charade is not happening so that Festus can solve his paperwork problem. It is happening so that Paul can preach the gospel to kings, exactly as the Lord had promised him he would (Acts 9:15). God is using the internal contradictions and absurdities of Roman bureaucracy to grant His apostle an audience with the very people who most need to hear the truth. This is how our God works. He makes the wrath of man to praise Him, and He uses the pomp of this world as a stage for the proclamation of the next.
The Text
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. 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. But I found that he had committed nothing worthy of death, and since he himself appealed to the Emperor, I decided to send him. 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. For it seems absurd to me in sending a prisoner, not to indicate also the charges against him.”
(Acts 25:23-27 LSB)
The Grand Entrance of Fantasy Island (v. 23)
The scene is set with all the dramatic flair of a Hollywood production.
"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." (Acts 25:23)
Notice the players. We have Agrippa, the last of the Herods, a dynasty steeped in blood, corruption, and opposition to Christ. His great-uncle, Herod Antipas, beheaded John the Baptist. His father, Agrippa I, executed the apostle James and was then eaten by worms for accepting worship as a god. And here is Agrippa II, living in an incestuous relationship with his sister Bernice, parading into the courtroom. They are the picture of decadent, compromised authority. They are accompanied by the chiliarchs, the high-ranking military commanders, and the "prominent men of the city." This is the establishment. This is the deep state of Caesarea, all gathered in their finest robes to hear from a tentmaker in chains.
The "great pomp" is meant to intimidate. It is designed to communicate power, authority, and the sheer weight of the Roman system. It is a carefully constructed stage play intended to make the prisoner feel very small and the rulers feel very large. But the gospel inverts all of this. The man in chains is the freest man in the room. The rulers in their robes are the true prisoners, enslaved to sin, to political expediency, and to the fear of man. Paul is not on trial here, not really. The Roman system of justice is on trial. The house of Herod is on trial. The pagan worldview is on trial. And Paul is the prosecuting attorney.
At the command of Festus, Paul is brought in. The contrast is everything. The parade of peacocks is over, and now the eagle is brought into the room. The noise and glitter of the entrance is now met with the quiet dignity of a man who has stood before the Lord Jesus Christ on the Damascus road. All their pomp is just a backdrop for the main event.
Festus's Frank Admission of Failure (v. 24-25)
Festus, the Roman governor, opens the proceedings. His speech is a remarkable confession of the bankruptcy of both Jewish religion and Roman justice in this case.
"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. But I found that he had committed nothing worthy of death, and since he himself appealed to the Emperor, I decided to send him.'" (Acts 25:24-25 LSB)
Festus lays out the problem plainly. On the one hand, he has the entire Jewish establishment, "all the people of the Jews," screaming for this man's head. Their charge is simple and bloodthirsty: "he ought not to live any longer." This is not a legal argument; it is a lynch mob in respectable robes. They are not interested in justice; they are interested in silencing the gospel by any means necessary. This is what happens when a religion rejects its Messiah. It becomes a ravenous beast.
On the other hand, Festus, representing the vaunted justice of Rome, has investigated the matter and come to a clear conclusion: "I found that he had committed nothing worthy of death." This is the third time a Roman official has declared Paul innocent. The city clerk in Ephesus found no fault in him. Claudius Lysias, the commander in Jerusalem, found no fault. And now Festus, the governor, concurs. By their own standards, Paul should be a free man. But he is not. Why? Because Roman justice is not as ultimate as it pretends to be. It is subservient to political pressure. Festus is more concerned with keeping the peace with the Jews than with doing what is right.
And then we have Paul's masterstroke: his appeal to Caesar. Paul is not a revolutionary in the modern sense. He is not throwing rocks at the embassy. He is a Roman citizen, and he uses the legal system that God has providentially placed over him to his advantage. He knows he will not get a fair trial in Jerusalem. He knows Festus is a political animal. So he appeals to the highest court in the land. This is an adroit and righteous use of the system. He is not trusting in Caesar for his ultimate salvation, but he is using Caesar's own laws to check the lawlessness of lesser magistrates and to advance the gospel toward Rome. This forces Festus's hand. He has no choice but to send him.
The Bureaucrat's Dilemma (v. 26-27)
Here we get to the heart of the matter, the administrative absurdity that has occasioned this whole spectacle.
"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. For it seems absurd to me in sending a prisoner, not to indicate also the charges against him." (Acts 25:26-27 LSB)
Festus is in a pickle. He has to send a prisoner to his "lord," the Emperor Nero, but he has no "definite" charge to write. The word "definite" means certain, or reliable. The Jews have plenty of accusations, but they are all religious squabbles about their law and some dead man named Jesus whom Paul insists is alive. For a hard-nosed Roman administrator, this is all mystical nonsense. He can't very well write to Nero and say, "I am sending you a prisoner because the Jews are angry that he believes in a resurrection." The Emperor would laugh him out of his office.
So he turns to Agrippa. "Help me out," he is essentially saying. "You understand these people and their superstitions. Listen to this man and help me find some plausible political charge we can pin on him." This is the purpose of the hearing: not to discover the truth, but to invent a charge. It is a fishing expedition for a crime.
Festus concludes with a statement that is dripping with unintended irony: "For it seems absurd to me in sending a prisoner, not to indicate also the charges against him." He is absolutely right. It is absurd. But the absurdity does not lie in the lack of a charge sheet. The absurdity lies in the fact that the King of the universe is on trial before a corrupt local official. The absurdity is that the Creator of justice is being judged by those who pervert it. The absurdity is that the Light of the World is being interrogated by men who love the darkness. The whole world system, when it confronts Christ, is fundamentally absurd. It is a kingdom of fantasy, and its pomposity cannot hide its foolishness.
Conclusion: The Gospel Before Kings
What are we to take from this scene? First, we see that worldly power is a facade. All the pomp and pageantry of Agrippa and Festus is a thin veneer over a system that is confused, compromised, and ultimately impotent before the power of the gospel. Christians should never be intimidated by the displays of worldly authority. The powers that be are God's deacons, whether they know it or not, and He moves them about like chess pieces on His board. They may think they are in charge, but they are merely arranging the stage for God's appointed witnesses.
Second, we see the predicament of a Christ-less justice. Festus admits Paul is innocent but will not release him. He recognizes the absurdity of his own position but continues in it. This is the nature of all secular states. Without God as the ultimate lawgiver and judge, justice becomes a matter of political calculation and public opinion. The state that will not be governed by God will inevitably become a tyrant, punishing the righteous and rewarding the wicked. We are seeing this all around us today. The charges brought against faithful Christians are increasingly absurd, but the absurdity does not stop the prosecution.
Finally, we see the glorious confidence of the Christian. Paul is not rattled. He is not intimidated. He is about to stand before this assembly of the rich and powerful, and he is going to do what he always does. He is going to preach the gospel. He is going to tell them about the hope of the promise made to the fathers. He is going to talk about the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. He knows that his chains are for the furtherance of the gospel. He knows that God has brought him to this very room for this very purpose. And so he will speak, not as a prisoner begging for his life, but as an ambassador of heaven, offering eternal life to his captors. This is our calling as well. We are to be ready in season and out of season, whether in the marketplace or before kings, to give a reason for the hope that is in us, knowing that the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men.