As we proclaim the gospel, calls for relevance and contextualization are common and needed. But here, in the imposing challenge of our times, such calls must be balanced by decisive exhortations to bold witness. Perhaps no scene in the Bible offers as compelling an invitation to such witness as Paul's defense before Festus, Agrippa, and Bernice (Acts 25:23-26:32). To appreciate fully this last and longest of Paul's speeches in Acts, we must watch his impressive congregation as they assemble.
Brawn, brains, bucks, bigwigs
Trumpet fanfare first introduces the tribunes: five cohorts of Roman troops stationed in the city. They enter in full military regalia, their chiseled features and muscular swagger bespeaking the might of the Roman Empire.
Next come the business leaders from the bustling port of Caesarea Maritima Caesar's city by the sea: the owners of merchant fleets, bankers, entrepreneurs, and benefactors.
Behind them are civic, religious, and thought leaders: judges and attorneys, the mayor, Caesarea's official augurs priestly types who read the signs and divine the will of the gods. The high priest of the grand temple to Augustus and Roma, a prominent poet-philosopher, and the president of Caesarea University are there as well.
As if this slate of characters is not interesting enough, fresh fanfare announces three remarkable individuals. Festus, the new governor of the Roman province of Judea, hosts the proceedings. King Agrippa II, son of Agrippa I and great-grandson of Herod the Great, is in town to congratulate Festus on his appointment.
Raised in the court of Emperor Claudius in Rome, he is in his early thirties and is a student of religion who will hold discussions with Rabbi Eliezer ben Hyracanus. Interestingly, it is Agrippa who appoints the high priest in Jerusalem, controls the sacred vestments, and oversees the temple treasury.
The most colorful figure, though, is King Agrippa's sister and apparent consort, Bernice. As she enters the audience chamber, every head turns. She is a knockout, a king slayer. Once married to her uncle, King Herod of Chalcis (now deceased), she has just terminated a marriage with the King of Cilicia and come back to her brother. In a few years, General Titus, who puts down the Jewish revolt, will take Bernice with him when he returns to Rome. As she enters the audience chamber on her brother's arm, she is at her beautiful and alluring best.
The brawn. The brains. The bucks. The big wigs they are all here. It would be difficult to imagine a more intellectually sophisticated, smug, and powerful group than the one now assembled in the palatial audience chamber in Caesarea.
Enter Paul
"So on the next day Agrippa and Bernice came with great pomp, and they entered the audience hall with the military tribunes and the prominent men of the city. Then Festus gave the order and Paul was brought in." (Acts 25:23).1
No fanfare now sounds; only the dull grinding of the prisoner's chains. Paul stands before the enthroned elite of the Province of Judea, providing a study in contrasts.2
As we join them in the audience chamber, consider three facets of the story that promise to inspire our own courageous testimony.
First, consider Paul's moment of destiny. To all outward appearances, Paul seems the victim of circumstances, the mere pawn of Rome. He is led into the audience chamber (25:23). In the introductory speech of Festus, Paul is spoken about rather than spoken to (25:24-27). Paul has to be given permission to speak. He is a prisoner, in chains (26:29).
On one level, Paul is imprisoned, controlled, and subject to the whims of others; on another is a deeper reality. In the initial story of Paul's conversion, the risen Lord speaks to Ananias, "'Go, for he is an instrument whom I have chosen to bring my name before Gentiles and kings'" (9:15). Despite appearances, this is Paul's moment of destiny. To this moment before the assembled elite in Caesarea he has been appointed by the risen Christ.3
Paul is neither the victim of circumstances nor the pawn of Rome. He is the appointee and emissary of his risen Lord.
Parallels
Something similar—though apparently less dramatic—may be part of the reality of our ministry. On one level we may seem subject entirely to the whims of others, slaves to a long list of chores that seem peripheral to our calling. If our witness tracks on this surface story, we will play the part of the prisoner and the pawn and offer submission, even recantation.
However, there is another story unfolding. The risen Lord has commissioned us. We are appointees and emissaries of that living Lord. If our witness instead traces this deeper story line, we shall respond as did Paul, with valiant witness. As ministers of the gospel, we dare never forget the more profound narrative.
A second facet of the story also holds obvious promise of motivating bold witness Paul's own daring testimony to the risen Christ. Imagine being able to pause the proceedings just as Paul stretches out his hand, in the classic gesture of the orator, to begin his speech (26:1).
In that frozen moment of time, step alongside Paul and serve as his homiletics coach. What would you say? "Paul, this is no sermon in the marketplace. You must do your audience analysis here, Paul, and do it with care.
"Keep this sophisticated group in mind. Let's tune up your message to meet this moment of destiny, rounding off a few sharp corners and rough edges. Straightforward testimony about Jesus and His resurrection may not work well. Could we make it a bit more oblique perhaps?" As Paul begins, you are quite satisfied that he is following your advice.
He offers a polite, generous overture to Agrippa (26:2, 3). Great start, Paul! You're staying on plan! Next, Paul summarizes his early life and asserts, "'And now I stand here on trial on account of my hope in the promise made by God to our ancestors, a promise that our twelve tribes hope to attain, as they earnestly worship day and night. It is for this hope, your Excellency, that I am accused by Jews!'" (26:4-7). That's acceptable, Paul. That's fairly indirect. You're still on plan.
But then Paul continues with an abrupt question, "'Why is it thought incredible by any of you that God raises the dead?'" (26:8). Oh, no, Paul! Remember, you've got the president of Caesarea University in your audience. What are you doing, Paul?
Your unease and chagrin deepen as Paul moves into the well-practiced story of his persecution of believers and his own rendezvous with the risen Lord (26:12-21). And his straightforward testimony continues: "'To this day I have had help from God, and so I stand here, testifying to both small and great, saying nothing but what the prophets and Moses said would take place: that the Messiah must suffer, and that, by being the first to rise from the dead, he would proclaim light both to our people and to the Gentiles'" (26:22, 23).
As he bears witness to Christ's resurrection, Paul is a practitioner of his later words to Timothy: "Proclaim the message; be persistent whether the time is favorable or unfavorable; convince, rebuke, and encourage" (2 Tim 4:2).
Invited to talk about himself, even to defend himself, in the end, Paul instead talks about Jesus.4 He cannot help talking about the resurrected Jesus. The vision on the road to Damascus has become the controlling one of his life.
How often is it just the opposite for us: Invited to talk about Jesus, we end up talking about ourselves instead? At such moments we must ask ourselves whether we have seen a compelling vision of the risen Christ. Has that vision of the risen Christ become a controlling one for us?
A final, motivating facet of the story is Paul's concluding, pathos filled plea (Acts 26:19).
As one studies the closing verses of the narrative (26:24-32), Paul's persverance in offering testimony to the risen Christ inspires. Even an accusation of insanity cues a renewed call for belief in Jesus (26:24, 25).
Agrippa responds to Paul's vigorous advocacy for faith in the resurrected Christ by postdating his repentance, "'Are you so quickly persuading me to become a Christian?'" (26:28). To which Paul responds, "'Whether quickly or not, I pray to God that not only you but also all who are listening to me today might become as I am except for these chains'" (26:29).
One commentator calls this plea of Paul's "the declaration that makes him, beyond any other, the model of a Christian preacher (verse 29)."5
To the sophisticated elite of the Roman province of Judea and their royal guests Paul dares to say, "I wish you were like me, a person of faith in Jesus, minus the chains."
With the story as a whole, this final plea leaves us agape at Paul's courage and audacity, and motivates us to bold witness to and in behalf of our risen and returning Lord,
1 All Bible quotations are taken from the New Revised Standard Version.
2 See Ellen White, The Acts of OK Apostles (Nampa, Idaho- Pacific Press Pub Assn., 1911), 434, 435.
3 Bruce W. Winter, "Official Proceedings and the Forensic Speeches in Acts 24-26" in The Book of Acts m Its Ancient Literary Setting, ed. Bmce W. Winter and Andrew D. Clarke (Grand Rapids, Mich.: William B. Eerdmans, 1993}, 331. The speech in Acts 26 is primarily recorded by Luke because it is the fulfilment of God's promise that Paul would bear witness before kings (Acts 9 15)."
4 Gerhard Schneider, Die Apostelgeschichte, Band 2, Herders Theologischer Kommentar zum Neuen Testament, 5 (Freiburg: Herder, 1982), 370, n. 9.
5 C K. Barrett, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Acts of the Apostles, vol. 2, Corrected ed., International Critical Commentary (London: T & T Clark, 2002), 1145
