Sober Madness Text: Acts 26:24-29
Introduction: A Clash of Sanities
We come now to the climax of Paul’s defense before the assembled powers of his day. Here in the courtroom of the Roman governor, we have a collision, not of legal arguments, but of entire universes. On one side sits Porcius Festus, the Roman procurator, a man who represents the sanity of this world. His is the sanity of pragmatism, of political maneuvering, of what you can see, touch, and tax. On the other side stands the Apostle Paul, a man in chains, who represents the sanity of the kingdom of God. His is the sanity of an empty tomb, a risen Messiah, and a coming judgment.
The world has always had a fixed opinion about which of these two sanities is the real one. To the world, the man who believes in a resurrected carpenter from Nazareth is, to put it plainly, nuts. He is a fanatic. His learning has curdled his wits. But the Scriptures teach us that the reverse is true. The wisdom of this world is foolishness with God, and the foolishness of God is wiser than men. What we are about to witness is a confrontation between two definitions of reality. One man’s sober assessment is another man’s raving madness. And in this exchange, we learn a fundamental lesson about the nature of the gospel and the nature of unbelief. The unbelieving mind, when confronted with the central claims of Christianity, has only one category for it: insanity.
This is not because the gospel is irrational. It is because the gospel is supernatural, and the natural man, in his self-imposed autonomy, has declared the supernatural to be off-limits. He has locked the door from the inside and insists that his little prison cell is the whole universe. When someone comes along speaking of a world outside that cell, a world of resurrection and life, the prisoner has only two options: either he is mad, or the man at the door is. Festus makes his choice loudly and clearly.
The Text
Now while Paul was saying this in his defense, Festus said in a loud voice, “Paul, you are out of your mind! Great learning is driving you out of your mind.” But Paul said, “I am not out of your mind, most excellent Festus, but I utter words of sober truth. For the king knows about these matters, and I speak to him also with confidence, since I am persuaded that none of these things escape his notice; for this has not been done in a corner. King Agrippa, do you believe the Prophets? I know you believe.” But Agrippa replied to Paul, “In such short time are you persuading me to become a Christian?” And Paul said, “I would pray to God, that whether in a short or long time, not only you, but also all who hear me this day, might become such as I am, except for these chains.”
(Acts 26:24-29 LSB)
The World's Diagnosis (v. 24)
We begin with the outburst from the man in charge.
"Now while Paul was saying this in his defense, Festus said in a loud voice, 'Paul, you are out of your mind! Great learning is driving you out of your mind.'" (Acts 26:24)
Festus had been listening to Paul’s testimony, a testimony grounded in the promises of the Old Testament prophets and culminating in the resurrection of Jesus Christ. For a practical Roman, this was all just too much. The story was getting away from him. Talk of sin, redemption, and a Jewish king rising from the dead to offer forgiveness to the world, including the Gentiles, did not compute within his materialistic, pagan worldview. So he does what the world always does when it cannot refute the message. He attacks the sanity of the messenger.
Notice the specific nature of his diagnosis: "Great learning is driving you out of your mind." Festus is not dismissing Paul as an ignorant fool. He recognizes Paul as an intellectual, a man of letters. But in his framework, this is precisely the problem. Paul has spent too much time poring over ancient scrolls, too much time in the echo chamber of his peculiar religion, and it has detached him from reality. This is the secularist’s charge against the theologian to this day. "You've thought so much about your God that you've lost your mind."
But what Festus calls madness is simply a conclusion that follows logically from a different set of presuppositions. If there is a God who makes promises, and if He is powerful enough to raise the dead, then Paul's testimony is the most rational thing in the world. But if there is no such God, if Caesar is the ultimate authority and death is the final word, then Paul is indeed a madman. Festus’s outburst is not a medical diagnosis; it is a worldview statement. He is declaring that Paul’s foundational beliefs about reality are so alien to his own that they can only be described as insanity.
The Sober Truth (v. 25-26)
Paul’s response is a model of Christian apologetics. It is respectful, firm, and rooted in objective, verifiable reality.
"But Paul said, 'I am not out of your mind, most excellent Festus, but I utter words of sober truth. For the king knows about these matters, and I speak to him also with confidence, since I am persuaded that none of these things escape his notice; for this has not been done in a corner.'" (Acts 26:25-26 LSB)
First, Paul shows respect for the office. "Most excellent Festus." This is not flattery. It is the proper recognition of a governing authority established by God. Paul is not an anti-social revolutionary. He is a citizen of a heavenly kingdom, but he understands how to conduct himself as a resident alien in this one. His demeanor is as sober as his words.
Second, he directly refutes the charge. He is not insane; he is speaking "words of sober truth." The Greek for "sober truth" is aletheias kai sophrosunes, truth and sound judgment. Paul is claiming to be the one in the room who is actually thinking clearly. The gospel is not a flight of fancy; it is the ultimate reality check.
Third, and this is crucial, he appeals to public evidence. "For this has not been done in a corner." Christianity is not a Gnostic mystery cult with secret knowledge. It is a historical faith based on public events. The life, death, and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth were public facts. The empty tomb was a public reality. The explosion of the church in Jerusalem was a public phenomenon. Paul is not asking Festus to believe in a fairy tale; he is pointing to a series of events that changed the course of history and happened out in the open. He then pivots to King Agrippa, who, unlike the Roman Festus, would have the necessary historical and theological grid to understand the context of these events. Paul is saying, "Festus, you might be ignorant of these things, but the king here knows what I am talking about."
The Pointed Question (v. 27-28)
Paul now turns the tables. He moves from defense to offense. He is no longer the one on trial; Agrippa is.
"King Agrippa, do you believe the Prophets? I know you believe. But Agrippa replied to Paul, 'In such short time are you persuading me to become a Christian?'" (Acts 26:27-28 LSB)
This is a masterstroke of rhetoric and evangelistic confrontation. Paul puts Agrippa in an impossible position. As a Jew, and the last of the Herods, Agrippa’s entire identity and claim to authority were wrapped up in the Jewish Scriptures. If he says "No, I don't believe the Prophets," he undermines his own position before his people. If he says "Yes, I believe the Prophets," then he must deal with Paul's argument that Jesus is the fulfillment of everything those prophets wrote. Paul even answers the question for him, "I know you believe," which tightens the screw even further.
Agrippa’s response is a classic evasion. "In such short time are you persuading me to become a Christian?" The tone is likely one of cynical, amused deflection. He feels the pressure of Paul’s logic and the heat of his spiritual appeal, and he tries to cool it all down by treating it as a joke. He shrinks back from the precipice of decision. He is being asked to abandon his comfortable, politically expedient religion-of-a-sort and bow the knee to a crucified and risen King. It is too much, too fast. He is not ready to have his world turned upside down, and so he parries with a jest. He is trying to regain control of the situation by trivializing it.
The Apostle's Heart (v. 29)
Paul's final response reveals the driving passion behind his entire defense. It is not about his own vindication, but about the salvation of his hearers.
"And Paul said, 'I would pray to God, that whether in a short or long time, not only you, but also all who hear me this day, might become such as I am, except for these chains.'" (Acts 26:29 LSB)
Paul refuses to be drawn into Agrippa’s cynical game. He answers with earnest, heartfelt sincerity. He doesn't care about the timetable. Short time, long time, it makes no difference to him. His singular desire, his prayer to God, is that every single person in that room, from King Agrippa down to the lowest guard, would come to have what he has. And what does he have? He has Christ. He has forgiveness. He has resurrection life. He has a hope that transcends Roman courtrooms and imperial politics.
And then comes that masterful, poignant, and powerful conclusion: "except for these chains." In this one phrase, Paul communicates a universe of truth. He is saying that his spiritual condition, his union with Christ, is so glorious, so liberating, that he would wish it upon everyone. The chains are a triviality by comparison. In fact, he is the freest man in the room. Festus is chained to his materialism. Agrippa is chained to his political ambition and fear of man. Paul alone is free. He is saying, "I wish you could have my freedom, without my temporary inconvenience." It is a statement of profound spiritual wealth and deep compassion for his captors.
Conclusion: Whose Sanity Will You Choose?
This scene lays the choice bare for every generation. The world, represented by Festus, will look at the claims of Christ, the resurrection, and the authority of Scripture, and it will shout, "You are out of your mind!" The compromised man, represented by Agrippa, will feel the force of the truth but will deflect and delay, unwilling to pay the cost of discipleship.
And the faithful Christian, represented by Paul, is called to stand his ground. We are called to speak words of sober truth, rooted in the public facts of history. We are to be respectful but unyielding. We are to challenge the presuppositions of the powerful. And above all, our motive must be love, a genuine desire that all men everywhere might become such as we are, saved, forgiven, and free in Jesus Christ.
The gospel forces a decision about what is sane and what is mad. Is it sane to live as though a holy God does not exist and that you will not one day stand before Him in judgment? Is it sane to build your life on the shifting sands of political power and personal comfort, knowing that death will wash it all away? Or is it sane to stake your life, your death, and your eternity on the one man in history who conquered the grave?
Festus thought Paul was crazy. But on the last day, when every knee bows and every tongue confesses that Jesus Christ is Lord, it will be clear to all which man was truly out of his mind. The question for us, as it was for Agrippa, is whether we will believe the Prophets and the One to whom they all pointed. The choice is between the sober madness of this world and the glorious sanity of the kingdom of God.