Commentary - Acts 26:1-8

Bird's-eye view

In this passage, the Apostle Paul stands before King Agrippa II, his sister Bernice, and the Roman governor Festus. This is not a formal trial, but rather a hearing arranged by Festus, who is perplexed about what charges to send with Paul to Caesar. What unfolds is one of the clearest and most strategic presentations of the gospel in the book of Acts. Paul is not a sniveling defendant begging for his life; he is a bold ambassador for the risen Christ, seizing an opportunity to preach the gospel at the highest levels of society. He begins with courteous respect for Agrippa's knowledge of Jewish affairs, and then proceeds to frame his entire life and ministry not as a rejection of Judaism, but as the very fulfillment of it. The central issue, he argues, is the "hope of the promise made by God to our fathers", the resurrection of the dead. For Paul, the Christian faith is not a novelty; it is the long-awaited climax of Israel's story, and Jesus' resurrection is the ultimate proof. He concludes his opening remarks with a pointed, challenging question: Why should it be thought a thing incredible that God should raise the dead? This question cuts to the heart of the matter, challenging the naturalistic presuppositions of his hearers and setting the stage for his personal testimony of encountering the risen Christ.

This is Paul the apologist, Paul the evangelist, and Paul the faithful Israelite all in one. He demonstrates how a Christian should engage with hostile or skeptical authorities: with respect, but without compromise; with courtesy, but with courage. He masterfully reframes the debate, showing that the real conflict is not between him and the Jews, but between two competing views of Israel’s hope, one that is dead and political, and one that has been gloriously fulfilled in a living Messiah.

Outline

Context In Acts

Acts 26 is the culmination of a long series of trials and hearings that began with Paul's arrest in Jerusalem in Acts 21. After being rescued from a Jewish mob by Roman soldiers, Paul has given his defense to the crowd in Jerusalem (Acts 22) and to the Sanhedrin (Acts 23). He was then transferred to Caesarea for his own safety, where he languished in prison for two years under the corrupt governor Felix (Acts 24). When Festus replaced Felix, the Jewish leaders renewed their accusations, and Paul, seeing no hope for a fair trial in Judea and knowing their desire to ambush and kill him, appealed to Caesar (Acts 25). This appeal necessitates his transfer to Rome. Festus, however, is in a bind. He has to send a letter to the emperor explaining the charges, but he finds Paul innocent of any crime under Roman law. The visit of King Agrippa II, a Jewish ruler with expertise in religious matters, provides Festus with a perfect opportunity to get some clarity. So, this hearing is not to determine Paul's guilt, but to help Festus write his report. For Paul, it is a divinely orchestrated opportunity to fulfill the Lord's commission to him to bear witness before "Gentiles and kings and the children of Israel" (Acts 9:15).

Key Issues

The Hope of the Promise

When Paul says he is on trial for "the hope of the promise made by God to our fathers," he is doing something brilliant. He is refusing to let his accusers frame the debate. They wanted to paint him as an apostate, a traitor to the law of Moses and the traditions of Israel. Paul's counter-argument is that he is the one who is actually faithful to the promises of God. His accusers, in their rejection of Jesus, are the true apostates. The promise made to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob was not ultimately about real estate in the Middle East or about a political kingdom. It was about life conquering death, about blessing flowing to all the nations of the earth, about God setting the world right. All the sacrifices, all the prophecies, all the hopes of the Old Testament saints pointed toward this one great event: the resurrection. The twelve tribes, Paul says, serve God earnestly night and day, hoping to attain this promise. He is saying, "I believe what every faithful Jew believes. The only difference is that I believe God has now fulfilled His promise in Jesus of Nazareth." By framing his defense this way, he puts his accusers on the back foot. To condemn Paul, they would have to condemn the very hope that defined them as a people.

Verse by Verse Commentary

1 Now Agrippa said to Paul, “You are permitted to speak for yourself.” Then Paul, stretching out his hand, began to make his defense:

The stage is set. Agrippa, the ranking authority in the room on Jewish matters, gives Paul permission to speak. The gesture of "stretching out his hand" is the classic pose of an orator. It signals confidence and authority. Paul is not a cowed prisoner. He is chained, yes, but he is about to take command of the room. He is an ambassador in chains, and he is about to deliver a message from the King of kings to these earthly potentates.

2-3 “Concerning all the things of which I am accused by the Jews, I regard myself blessed, King Agrippa, that I am about to make my defense before you today; especially because you are an expert in all customs and questions among the Jews; therefore I beg you to listen to me patiently.

Paul begins with a respectful and savvy introduction. He doesn't engage in cheap flattery, but he does show proper deference to Agrippa's position and knowledge. He calls himself "blessed" or fortunate to be making his case before someone who actually understands the issues. The charges against him are not criminal in a Roman sense; they are theological. Festus is clueless, but Agrippa gets it. This is not just politeness; it is a strategic appeal. Paul is saying, in effect, "You, King Agrippa, unlike Governor Festus, have the necessary background to understand that this is an in-house Jewish debate, and that I stand on the side of our ancestral faith." He asks for a patient hearing, knowing he is about to recount his life story and lay out the gospel in detail.

4-5 “So then, all Jews know my manner of life from my youth, which from the beginning was spent among my own nation and at Jerusalem; since they have known about me for a long time, if they are willing to testify, that I lived as a Pharisee according to the strictest sect of our religion.

Paul establishes his credentials as an impeccable Jew. His life was not lived in some obscure corner of the diaspora; it was an open book, lived out in Jerusalem, the very center of Judaism. He appeals to common knowledge: "all Jews know." He then makes a bold claim: he was a member of the strictest sect, the Pharisees. This is crucial. The Pharisees were defined by their zealous commitment to the Law and the traditions, and most importantly, by their firm belief in the resurrection of the dead, which the Sadducees denied. He even challenges his accusers: "if they are willing to testify." He knows they won't, because to admit his former standing would be to admit that his conversion was not a slide into laxity, but a radical transformation of a man who was at the pinnacle of their religious system.

6 And now I am standing here being tried for the hope of the promise made by God to our fathers;

Here is the heart of his argument. He connects his present trial directly to the ancient hope of Israel. He is not on trial for being a revolutionary or a heretic. He is on trial for believing that God keeps His promises. The "promise" is a rich, covenantal term. It encompasses everything God swore to the patriarchs, everything the prophets foretold. But Paul will quickly narrow the focus to the ultimate fulfillment of that promise. He is essentially saying, "My crime is that I believe the Old Testament."

7 the promise to which our twelve tribes hope to attain, as they earnestly serve God night and day. And for this hope, O King, I am being accused by Jews.

Paul identifies his hope with the hope of all faithful Israel, represented by the "twelve tribes." Their constant worship, their earnest service "night and day" in the temple, was all directed toward the attainment of this promise. There is a deep irony here. The very people who are accusing him are, in theory, praying for the very thing he is preaching. They are looking for the Messiah and the resurrection, but when God provides it, they reject it and persecute His messenger. The accusation comes "by Jews," which highlights the tragic, fratricidal nature of the conflict. It is an internal dispute, a family quarrel over the family inheritance.

8 Why is it considered unbelievable among all of you if God does raise the dead?

Paul pivots from his personal defense to a direct challenge to his audience. The question is aimed at everyone in the room, "among all of you", including the Gentile Festus and the Jewish Agrippa. The question is brilliant because it exposes the root of their unbelief. The real issue is not the details of Paul's life, but their philosophical and theological worldview. For a Pharisee like Paul once was, the resurrection was a future hope. For a Sadducee, it was a fantasy. For a Roman epicurean like Festus might have been, it was an absurdity. Paul's question forces the foundational issue to the surface. Is God the kind of God who can and does intervene in the physical world? Is He powerful enough to reverse death? If He is, then the resurrection of Jesus is not incredible at all. It is, in fact, the most credible and central event in human history. The entire Christian faith hangs on the answer to this question.

Application

Paul's defense before Agrippa is a master class in Christian witness. First, we see that we are to be respectful to those in authority, even when they are pagan or hostile. Paul shows courtesy to Agrippa, not to curry favor, but because it is right to give honor to whom honor is due. This courtesy provides a platform for the gospel. Second, we should learn to tell our own story. Paul's defense is profoundly personal. He speaks of his own "manner of life." Our testimony is a powerful tool. People can argue with abstract theology, but it is much harder to argue with a changed life. We should be able to articulate where we came from and how Christ has changed us.

Third, and most importantly, we must ground our faith in the central, historical reality of the resurrection. Paul boils the entire controversy down to one question: "Why is it considered unbelievable...if God does raise the dead?" This is still the central question. Our culture is saturated with a naturalistic worldview that assumes miracles are impossible and that dead people stay dead. The Christian witness must constantly challenge this assumption, not with clever arguments alone, but with the bold proclamation that God has, in fact, raised Jesus from the dead. This is not a myth or a metaphor; it is the bedrock of our hope. It is the proof that God keeps His promises, that sin and death have been defeated, and that a new creation has begun. Like Paul, we are not on trial for some strange new religion. We are on trial for believing in the hope of the world, a hope that was promised long ago and has now dawned in the person of the risen Christ.