Acts 24:3–27

Judging by his name — a shortened form of Tertius, like many others formed that way in Latin — the orator seems to have been one of the young Romans or Italians found wherever there was a court of justice in the provinces. The Jews most likely hired him because he knew the ways of doing business before the governor. His opening is certainly as servile as his statement is false and abusive. The flattery of Felix stands in open contrast to the serious condemnation of the historian Tacitus. Yet there was enough in his forceful putting down of plotters and rebels to give it some appearance of reason. What the claimed improvements or good measures were does not appear. Josephus agrees with the Romans in his bad report of Felix, who escaped condemnation for his misgovernment in Syria only through the influence of his brother Pallas with Nero.

The word translated "most excellent" is kratistos. The same word is applied to governors of provinces, as to Felix and Festus as "most noble."

No wonder Tacitus described him as a man who "had the soul of a slave with the power of a sovereign, and used his power in every kind of cruelty and lust." Greed, too, was a vice that marked him. He would take bribes, and he looked for them. On the other hand, he was not lacking in courage or decision. He had shown that in dealing with the bandits that had overrun the province. So the compliment paid him by Tertullus had truth in it.

He took the lead in speaking. He began his flowery speech by flattering Felix in a way he — or any of the Jews — would never have spoken behind the governor's back. He speaks of Israel enjoying great quietness through the authority of Felix. Yet it was they who had disturbed Jerusalem by their violence against Paul.

This is of course the same principle as bribery. Let the believer take care to avoid such trapping nets. Accepting flattery is accepting falsehood, for flattery is actually deceit: it is not even honestly meant, nor is it sober, real fact. Satan is extremely skilful in such methods.

Paul's answer was in every way a contrast to the speech of Tertullus. He acknowledged that Felix had many years of experience as a judge among the Jews, but he held back from flattery. He avoided vague claims. He denied outright any arguing or stirring up of revolt, and pointed out that only twelve days had passed since he first set foot in Jerusalem.

Tertullus knew his man. But he did not know that God was behind it all, nor that Paul was still to visit Rome; so every effort of the Jews to bring about his death would come to nothing.

Then they hired a lawyer who, judging by his name, was a Roman and not a Jew. They surely felt that Tertullus would know better than they did what would appeal to a Roman mind. So he would be more likely to win a conviction.

His opening is as fawning as his statement is false and abusive. His flattery of Felix stands in sharp contrast with the severe verdict of the historian Tacitus. Felix did put down plotters and rebels firmly, and that was enough to give the praise some appearance of reason. What the supposed improvements or good measures were is never said. Josephus agrees with the Romans in reporting evil of Felix. He escaped condemnation for his bad rule in Syria only through the influence of his brother Pallas with Nero.

Having tried to win over the governor in this way, and in even cruder ways, Tertullus turns after verse 4 to slandering Paul. He labels the apostle a pest, or pestilent fellow — a vague charge, but a very damaging one. Then he says something more definite: that Paul stirs up rebellions among all the Jews throughout the world… Next he charges Paul as a sectarian chief. Against the Christians he uses (here only in the New Testament) the name of contempt they had fixed on their Master — "a ringleader of the sect of the Nazarenes."

They considered Paul a pest. What difference would that make to a judge? They said he stirred up rebellion. But they could not name one specific act of rebellion to lay to his charge. They claimed that he was a "ringleader of the sect of the Nazarenes." But this means nothing unless he had done something unlawful… The Jews could count on only one thing to have any effect on Felix: the smooth speech of Tertullus.

Here again we meet the sin of flattery. "A man who flatters his neighbor spreads a net for his feet" (Proverbs 29:5). Flattery is close to lying. It can never be right. It is always a mistake, and it leads to the gravest consequences. Flattery has ruined more servants of the Lord than anything else.

To accept flattery is to accept falsehood. Flattery is deceit. It is not meant honestly, and it is not sober, real fact. Satan is highly skilled in such methods.

Felix had dealt with the Jews in an official role for a long time. That was a plain matter of fact, and the apostle rightly made use of it. Their feelings, habits, and prejudices were bound to be more familiar to him than to a new governor. On this fact the apostle bases his cheerfulness in making his defence. Flattery is completely absent.

Not only the elders but even Ananias the high priest went down to appear against him. That shows how important they thought his case was. Then they employed an advocate who, judging by his name, was a Roman and not a Jew. Tertullus, they no doubt felt, would know better than they did what would appeal to the Roman mind. So he would be more likely to secure a conviction... All four charges were vague, particularly the first, that he was a pest, and the second that he was a mover of sedition. He preferred vague charges, because he knew they could not be easily disproved, as plain, definite charges often can be.

Of course the first three charges cannot even be considered by a court of justice. They considered Paul to be a pest. What difference would this make to a judge? They said he was a mover of sedition. But they have not one specific act of sedition to lay to his charge. They claimed that he was a "ringleader of the sect of the Nazarenes." But this means nothing unless he had done something unlawful.

He calls him a pestilent fellow, a person whom society may well be rid of. The indictment contains three counts. First stands a political accusation. In front of the high Roman officer, this mattered most of all. Any conspiracy against the Roman government was a capital offense. So Tertullus laid the charge of sedition, or treason, at the Apostle's door at once. The second offense he brought against Paul was religious. As ringleader of the Nazarenes, whom Tertullus presented as a sect of the Jews, Paul had backed what was against the peace of Judaism. He had also brought in a disturbing element and broken another Roman law, which forbade introducing a religion the state did not recognise.

It was the phrase of the day, as we see in Acts 24:5. To a Roman, the city of Rome ruled the whole earth. The world and the empire were the same; everything outside counted for nothing. But the apostles had a true and larger view.

He charges Paul with being the chief of a sect, using against the Christians — and only here in the New Testament — that name of contempt which they had fixed on their Master: "a ringleader of the sect of the Nazarenes."

The words "He would be called a Nazarene" are not found in the Old Testament, but the thought they carry runs right through the prophets — that the Messiah would be despised and reproached... His disciples suffered the same reproach: Paul had to hear himself called "a ringleader of the sect of the Nazarenes." Christians in some parts of Palestine are still called Nazarenes.

The word comes from "to choose." Translators render the same Greek word as "sect," and it names the sects among the Jews, such as the Sadducees and the Pharisees. The Jews used it about Christianity... The root of the Greek word, "to choose," shows that a heresy is something peculiar. The doctrine held and pressed may be true in itself, but it may be exaggerated or taken out of its connection. The usual result is that a party or sect forms.

The third was the only one with some semblance of truth. He had proved himself a leader among the Christians, whom the Jews knew as the sect of the Nazarenes. They were indeed followers of the despised Nazarene, but they were emphatically not just a new sect among the Jews. The book of Acts was written to show us they were not this, but something entirely new. The world never understands any genuine work of God.

The Jews would have put one charge first: profaning the Temple. It was a grave crime, and by their rules it deserved death. Tertullus put it last. He placed the other charges up front, because he expected them to weigh more with Felix. Would Felix show himself in this affair to be Caesar's friend? Would he earn the thanks of the Jewish nation? Here was his chance to prove himself a worthy governor by dealing harshly with Paul. Tertullus knew his man. But he did not know that God was behind it all, or that Paul was still to visit Rome. So every attempt by the Jews to bring about his death would fail.

The fourth charge does point to something Paul did. But it says only that he "tried to profane the temple," not that he actually profaned it. In chapter 21:28 the Asian Jews had charged Paul with actually polluting the temple. By now Tertullus had probably learned that this could not be proved. Still, he felt he needed some charge against Paul, so he put it in this vague way. He did not say that Paul may have brought a Gentile into the temple. The Gentile Felix would hardly count that as a charge at all!

An interesting example of the use of these words appears in the charge against Paul of defiling the temple by bringing in Greeks. The Jews use the verb from koinos, but Tertullus, speaking before the Roman governor, uses the verb from bebelos (Acts 21:28; Acts 24:6).

He adds a plain lie: that the Jews had seized Paul in order to try him by their own law. They were beating him, hoping to kill him, when Lysias rescued him. Yet Tertullus claimed that Lysias was the one who used great violence!

We may fairly question the bracketed passage in verses 6-8. The manuscripts of chief value leave it out... Yet clearly, stopping at the seizure of Paul by the Jews leaves the speech very abrupt. It never explains how he got away from them, or how he came into the custody of Lysias before his transfer to Caesarea... More could be said about the uncertainty hanging over the bracketed words. But there seems little profit in saying more, if no one can bring proof enough to settle the question either way.

The apostle next says that after several years away he arrived bringing gifts for his nation, and offerings. Was that the act of a troublemaker who stirs up rebellion? "While I was doing this, they found me purified in the temple, without any crowd or tumult." Was that profaning the temple? "But certain Jews from Asia" — they were the real offenders here... Why were these Jews from Asia not present face to face, as Roman law required?

There they all stood. They backed the grovelling flattery and open lies of Tertullus — in fact they had coached him — and now they joined his attack on all truth and justice. The Lord had warned His followers that this would come. "Remember the word that I said to you: 'A servant is not greater than his master.' If they persecuted Me, they will also persecute you."

Tertullus did know what would appeal to the Roman mind, and he began with heavy flattery. The account of Felix's rule in secular history flatly contradicts what Tertullus said. He followed the flattery with a fourfold charge against Paul. All four charges were vague, especially the first — that Paul was a pest — and the second, that he stirred up rebellion. He preferred vague charges, because he knew they could not be easily disproved, as plain definite charges often can be.

The Jews would have put first the defiling of the temple. It was a grave crime, and by their rules it deserved death. Tertullus put it last. He placed in front those other charges, which he expected would weigh more with Felix. Would Felix show himself in this affair to be Caesar's friend? Would he earn the thanks of the Jewish nation? Now was his opportunity to prove himself a worthy governor by dealing severely with Paul. Tertullus knew his man.

He ends his speech by saying that Felix, if he examines Paul, will find that the accusations he made were true. The Jews ignored any qualms of conscience and gave their word that these charges were true.

So was everything Tertullus said true? Was Paul, under the cover of religion, the troublemaker the speaker wanted to make him out to be? The accusations needed backing up. Backing up was at hand. The Jews who came with Tertullus joined in the attack on Paul.

The bracketed passage in verses 6-8 may fairly be questioned. The witnesses of chief value leave it out... But Alford finds a strong argument for these words in verse 22. With them in, "of whom" refers naturally to Lysias — and there Felix does put off his decision until Lysias arrives. Without them, "of whom" would refer rather to Paul. More could be said about how uncertain these bracketed words are. But there seems little profit in saying more, if one cannot bring proof enough to settle the question either way.

He avoided vague claims. He flatly denied any arguing or stirring up of rebellion. He pointed out that only twelve days had passed since he first set foot in Jerusalem. He showed that they had made plenty of accusations but had supplied no proofs, and could not do so. Then he made a plain and simple confession of what had marked his life, and of what really lay at the bottom of their hostility. In doing so he brought into full view the foundation of the Gospel he preached.

But he did not know that God was behind it all, nor that Paul was yet to visit Rome; so all attempts of the Jews to bring about his death would prove useless.

Felix knew the accusations were not true, but he refused to decide. Paul should have been set free. Felix put the case off until Lysias the commander should come to Caesarea. But he never came, and Paul stayed a prisoner.

Straightforward truth and courteous dignity mark the apostle's defence. Servility toward the governor and abuse of the accused had marked the accusation. On the one hand, the Jews joined in their bribed advocate's attack and claimed that his falsehoods were fact. On the other hand, there was no haste to reply until the governor gave the sign to do so.

An undefended prisoner, with not one single witness to speak in his favour — could he hope to escape conviction? Would the high priest and the elders have travelled from Jerusalem to Caesarea to take up a trivial case, or to enter a doubtful contest? If they, along with the orator, had appeared before Felix, the case must be one of real importance, and convicting the offender a public duty. Many might have reasoned that way. Was Paul embarrassed? Was he dismayed at the task in front of him? At the governor's sign that he was free to speak, he began cheerfully, and we can add, confidently.

Felix had spent a long time in official dealings with the Jews. That was a plain matter of fact, and the apostle rightly made use of it. Their feelings, habits and prejudices were necessarily more familiar to him than to a newly arrived governor. On this circumstance the apostle bases his cheerfulness in making his plea. Flattery is completely absent.

Paul's answer was in every way a contrast to the speech of Tertullus. He acknowledged that Felix had had many years of experience as judge among the Jews, but he held back from flattery. He avoided vague claims. He denied outright any disputes and any stirring up of rebellion. He pointed out that only twelve days had passed since he set foot in Jerusalem. He showed that while they had made plenty of accusations they had produced no proofs, and could not do so. Then he made a plain and simple confession of what had marked him, and of what really lay at the bottom of their hostility. In doing so he brought out the foundation of the gospel he preached. They called it heresy, but it was the very foundation of the truth.

When these things happened they would need no speech-writer. They would not even need to study beforehand what would be wisest or most fitting to answer when accused. Instead, they were to depend entirely on God to give them the words to speak at the moment they were needed. In this they would let the Spirit of their Father speak without hindrance. We see this beautifully carried out in the cases of Peter and John, Stephen, and Paul in Acts 24:10-21 and 26:1-29.

Paul's answer was in every way a contrast to the oration of Tertullus. He acknowledged Felix's many years of experience as a judge among the Jews, but he refrained from flattery. He avoided vague assertions. He plainly denied any disputes and sedition. He pointed out that only twelve days had passed since he set foot in Jerusalem. He showed that while they had made plenty of accusations they had furnished no proofs, and could not do so.

Here was an undefended prisoner, with not one single witness to speak in his favour. Could he hope to escape conviction? ... Was Paul embarrassed? Was he dismayed at the task before him? At the governor's signal that he was free to speak, he began cheerfully, and we can add, confidently.

Felix had held office in relation to the Jews for a long time. That was a plain matter of fact, and the apostle rightly made use of it. So their feelings, habits and prejudices were more familiar to him than to a new governor. On this circumstance the apostle bases his cheerfulness in making his plea. Flattery is entirely absent.

As to himself, it was such a short space of time since he went up to Jerusalem that his movements there could easily be traced. And when he did go — only twelve days before — it was "to worship". That is the very opposite of stirring up sedition or other troublesome conduct, and least of all of defiling the temple. On the contrary, he brought alms to his nation and offerings. Could anything be more opposed either to rioting or to profaning?

What had he been doing there? Purifying himself as the law of Moses required, and worshipping God. A strange kind of plague, certainly!

Paul's ministry at Jerusalem on his last visit was hindered. He had kept very quiet (Acts 24:11-12). He had not been a week in the capital before he became a prisoner in the hands of the Romans.

Nowhere were the difficulties greater than in Jerusalem, the natural focus of extreme Jewish feeling. Paul came there moved by strong love and pity for his nation. He explains this himself in Acts 24:17: "Now after several years I came to bring alms to my nation and to present offerings." This was hardly his proper calling, though the love that led to it always worked powerfully in his heart.

I believe a careful study of that part of Acts will show us this. The beloved apostle Paul, that faithful, honoured servant of Christ, let his love for his brothers according to the flesh take him back to Jerusalem. It was a love hardly ever equalled in any man's heart. He goes back in love to them. The Holy Spirit testified that chains and imprisonment awaited him there... But he went; his love was strong, he had gifts in his hands for them from the Gentile Christians, and he thought he could win his own people that way. What was the result? His own countrymen arrested him and persecuted him, and they would have put him to death if the Gentiles themselves had not rescued him.

Tertullus knew what would appeal to the Roman mind. He began with excessive flattery. Secular history's account of how Felix governed flatly contradicts what he said. He followed this with a fourfold charge against Paul. All four charges were vague, especially the first, that he was a pest, and the second that he was a mover of sedition. He preferred vague charges. He knew they were hard to disprove, while plain definite charges often are not.

Of course the first three charges cannot even be considered by a court of justice. They considered Paul to be a pest. What difference would this make to a judge? They said he was a mover of sedition. But they have not one specific act of sedition to lay to his charge.

Paul's answer was in every way a contrast to the oration of Tertullus. He acknowledged that Felix had many years of experience as a judge among the Jews. But he refrained from flattery. He avoided vague assertions. He denied in plain terms any disputes or sedition. He pointed out that only twelve days had passed since he set foot in Jerusalem. He showed that while they had made plenty of accusations they had supplied no proofs, and could not do so.

His visit was so recent that anyone could trace his movements. And when he did go — only twelve days before — it was "to worship". That is the very opposite of stirring up sedition or other harmful conduct, and least of all of profaning the temple. He was free to speak if he had thought it right. But in fact they did not find him "disputing with anyone or stirring up a crowd" in the temple. Such uproar was common in a people so zealous and so excitable. They did not find him in the synagogues either, many as they were, nor in the city. What could be less like an agitator?

He loved his nation too well to be their troubler in any way, though that is how his accusers described him.

Paul's ministry at Jerusalem on his last visit had been hindered. He had kept very quiet (Acts 24:11-12). He had not been in the capital a week before he became a prisoner in the hands of the Romans.

There they all were. They agreed with the base servility and downright falsehood of Tertullus — indeed they had instructed him. Now they joined in his attack against all truth and justice. And so the Lord had forewarned His followers. "Remember the word that I said to you: 'A servant is not greater than his master.' If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you." … So their enmity turned against a servant of His. He made their consciences feel the truth — a truth they could not overthrow, and would not believe or confess.

At this time Christianity had no name. It had come into the world, but was not of it, nor of its ways. It was not Judaism with its ceremonies, instituted by God, though now corrupted by man. It was not heathenism, with its orgies of uncleanness and abomination. It was a strange and heavenly thing, governed by no principle that governed the world. And it had no name; but was called "the way." Several times in Acts we find it named so.

The Greek word hairesis comes from a verb meaning 'to choose.' Translators render the same word 'sect,' and it names the parties among the Jews, such as the Sadducees and the Pharisees... The Jews used it about Christianity... The root of the word, 'to choose,' shows that a heresy is something of one's own choosing. The doctrine held and pressed may be true in itself, but it may be exaggerated or taken out of its connection. The common result is that a party or sect forms.

Yet Paul refused to allow Christianity to be called a sect because God had spoken in it, and all men were to hear. It was no opinion but revealed truth. This is the key to the condemnation of heresy in the apostolic writings. There is to be no opinion, no mere human choice among Christians. The one truth claims the allegiance of all.

Then he made a plain and simple confession of what had marked his life, and of what lay at the bottom of their hostility... They called it heresy, but it was the very foundation of the truth.

But far from denying what was said of 'the sect' (v. 5), he admits it openly: according to the Way which they call a sect, he serves the fathers' God. This mattered for the governor. The Romans tolerated the religious convictions of the nations they ruled. But they were stern in refusing to allow new religions, above all any that tended to stir up civil unrest... The heathen were without God themselves, and they called Christians godless or atheists because they had no idols. In the same way the Jews called the church 'a sect'. Yet it was the only institution on earth that could not be a sect while true to Christ.

So then, he reverently believed in Moses and the Prophets. He fully accepted the Old Testament Scriptures as the solid foundation of his faith. They were the divine authority for his whole course. Now how did Paul know that the Scriptures came from God? He knew it in the only way anyone can know it — by divine teaching.

God alone can give the knowledge that the Holy Scriptures are His own revelation to man. If He does not give it, no one can; if He does, no one need. If I want human evidence to accredit the Word of God, it is not the Word of God to me... Saving faith is believing what God says because He says it, and the Holy Spirit works this faith in the soul.

Paul could hardly have said this unless Pharisees were present who confessed the resurrection of the dead. So they must have patched up their quarrel with the unorthodox Sadducees, so eager were they to put Paul down and punish him. Jews seem to have seen resurrection as the privilege of the righteous only. That view was bound to sink into a reward for Israel in the Messiah's kingdom. But the apostle, guided by the Holy Spirit, shows that it reaches everyone — "of both the just and the unjust."

Here there is no word to point to the Christian or heavenly side of the subject. The reason is very simple. The apostle was speaking to people who were completely unable to enter into the Christian's proper hope... He could only take his stand on the great broad truth of resurrection, common to all orthodox Jews. Had he spoken of a "resurrection from among the dead," he could not have added the words "which these men themselves accept." They accepted nothing of the kind.

In this skilful way Paul announced his belief in everything written in the Old Testament. He showed that all Christian hopes rest on the resurrection, and that resurrection has of course been proved true in Christ. And it is just as certain that there will be a resurrection for the unjust. That was clearly a shot directed at the conscience of Felix, as well as everyone else present. No one will remain buried in the grave and so escape the mighty hand of God in judgment.

Everyone admits that there will be a resurrection of both the just and the unjust. The question is whether the two happen together. On that the passage says nothing.

Before Felix, Paul said that the Jews believed in "a resurrection of both the just and the unjust." They drew this from the Scriptures of the Old Testament. But the Lord, in Luke 14:14, showed that the resurrection of the just was a separate resurrection. In John 5 the Lord reveals that He will raise all the dead. He also shows that the portion of the just is a resurrection of life, while the resurrection of the unjust is a resurrection of judgment. From Revelation 20 we learn that a thousand years come between the two. The first resurrection is the resurrection of life; then comes the resurrection of the wicked for judgment.

But the unjust were to rise, as well as the just. For him it was a sweet and purifying hope; for them it should have been a warning of the most solemn kind. But what did any of them know about an exercised conscience?

As to himself, he had gone up to Jerusalem so recently that anyone could trace his movements there. And when he did go — only twelve days before — it was "to worship." That is the very opposite of stirring up rebellion or any other troublemaking, least of all defiling the temple. On the contrary, he brought "alms to his nation, and offerings." Could anything be further from rioting or from defiling the temple?

One cannot overlook how often the poor believers at Jerusalem are remembered. No doubt their circumstances gave them a special claim. Probably outward distress was widespread, and persecution had left some widows and orphans. The believers there were not only very many. Jerusalem is also the only place, as far as we read, where they sold their possessions and goods to give to everyone who had need... But there, partly through this surprising testimony of unselfish love, poverty came later; and none among the Gentile churches pressed harder than Paul that relief should be sent to the believers in Judea, not only during the great famine under the emperor Claudius, but from then on.

The believers at Jerusalem ask the Gentile Christians to remember the poor, even though they are not under law or required to be circumcised. This care of the poor was a very strong bond between the Gentile believers and the Jewish believers. There was much to divide them, and much to cause jealousy between them. But the loving care shown to the poor believers in Judea by their wealthier Gentile brothers and sisters bound these Jewish and Gentile Christians together.

James, who was "a pillar" at Jerusalem, and even Paul, who "had come with offerings and alms to his nation," still went along with the routine of the law of Moses. It was at James' urging that Paul agreed to prove his submission to Moses... So Paul went, with others who had a vow, into the temple, and, had he not been hindered, would have presented the offering the law required for a Nazirite.

The apostle loved his nation too well to be their troubler in any way... Then he frankly states what had brought him up on this occasion. "I came to bring alms to my nation, and offerings." He really did love them.

Afterwards he took charge of the offerings of the saints in Achaia and Macedonia. He wanted to prove his affection for the poor of his own people. This was all well. I do not know whether it was a function suited to an apostle. It was clearly a Jewish feeling, which placed special value on the poor of Jerusalem, and so far on Jerusalem itself.

He often sent for Paul to talk with him, not because he had a troubled conscience, but a greedy interest in money. No doubt he remembered that Paul had said he came to Jerusalem to bring alms to his nation, and Felix was quite willing to receive alms himself. Two years of this unjust imprisonment went by, and Felix still left Paul bound when Festus replaced him.

The apostle next states that after several years he arrived bringing gifts for his nation and offerings. Was this the action of a man stirring up rebellion and trouble? "While I was doing this [the business of the offerings], they found me purified in the temple, without any crowd or tumult." Was this again defiling the temple? "But some Jews from Asia" — they were the real culprits here. Their reckless guilt is what pinned the false charge on him. The four men under the vow were not Greeks, but Jews. Paul joined only these men in the temple, and he did it at the request of James. Why were these Jews from Asia not here face to face, as Roman law required?

The apostle had come there, moved by strong love and pity for his nation. He explains it himself in Acts 24:17: "Now after several years I came to bring alms to my nation and to present offerings." This was hardly his proper calling, though the love behind it always worked powerfully in his heart.

He was the apostle to the Gentiles and a servant of the church. But he was also, as he said, a Pharisee and the son of Pharisees. Even after this he took it on himself to bring his nation gifts for the poor and offerings, and they found him purified in the temple… No witness of heavenly truth was taught more deeply or equipped more fully than he was. Yet he loved the ancient people of God warmly. He never forgot that he too was an Israelite, from the seed of Abraham, of the tribe of Benjamin.

Paul had declared his faith in the Scriptures and in the resurrection. He went on to show that his conduct matched what he believed. His conscience was clear. He had come up to Jerusalem only on an errand of mercy, and in the temple his behaviour had been orderly and correct throughout. It was the Jews from Asia who stirred up the uproar, not him.

Beyond any argument, it was the Jews themselves and no one else who made the riot, stirred up by the mistake about those brothers from Asia. They were not there that day to be proved wrong, as Felix could hardly fail to see… It is so hard for men running a campaign, above all a religious one, to stop short of blatant injustice once they have taken the wrong side. When men are right, they can afford to be gracious.

It was a step taken for convenience, to avoid trouble, and as so often happens it failed completely to do that. It took Paul into the temple, the very place where his opponents were most likely to be. He ran into trouble instead of avoiding it. Jews from Asia stirred up the riot against him. They assumed that Paul had defiled the temple by bringing a Gentile from Ephesus into it. That assumption was clearly wrong. He had not done it. He had gone in himself, thinking it might take the edge off their prejudice, and that idea proved mistaken too.

"But certain Jews from Asia" — they were the real culprits in the matter. It was their guilty rashness that fastened the false charge on him. The four men under the vow were not Greeks but Jews. Paul joined only these men in the temple, at the suggestion of James. Why were these Asian Jews not here face to face, as Roman law required? "Who ought," as the apostle quietly adds, "to have been present before you and to have accused me, if they had anything against me."

Whatever the Jews might do or wish, Roman law was fair enough to insist that an accused person should have his accusers face to face. It also let him answer for himself about the charge laid against him.

Paul's answer was in every way a contrast to the speech of Tertullus. He acknowledged that Felix had many years of experience as judge among the Jews, but he refrained from flattery. He avoided vague assertions. He denied any disputes and sedition outright, and pointed out that only twelve days had passed since he first set foot in Jerusalem. He showed that while they had made plenty of accusations, they had supplied no proofs, and could not do so.

Even though the witnesses were not present, those actually there were challenged to state any wrong at all done by the apostle, unless it was his putting forward the great truth of the resurrection. That truth embarrassed the Pharisee elders now as much as before, for they would surely count such a cry as true and right, and in no way a fault. But bad company ruins good morals. Those who at first felt sympathy for the truth at stake now give their support to the enemy against the great representative of the gospel. They do so even after they were all shown to be guilty of the grossest mistake and of unfounded slander. So hard is it for men caught up in a campaign, above all a religious one, to stop short of glaring injustice when they are lined up on the wrong side. When men are right, they can afford to be gracious.

The vessel, the light-bearer, the means by which the light shines out, must be shown to be pure and clean. Otherwise the purity and glory of the light will not be seen. Paul himself must be clear of every charge, if men are to receive the gospel he preached as the word of God.

He adjourned the court on the pretext of waiting for Lysias the chief captain. So once again the accusers were foiled, especially as the adjournment had no fixed date. Meanwhile Paul was given an extraordinary measure of liberty, in which again we may see the overruling hand of God.

Even though the witnesses were not present, the men who were there were challenged to state any wrong at all done by the apostle — unless it was his putting forward the great truth of the resurrection. That was as awkward for the Pharisee elders now as it had been before. They would certainly regard such a cry as true and right, and no fault at all.

Then he made a plain and simple confession of what had marked his life, and of what really lay at the bottom of their hostility. In doing so he brought into full view the thing that lay at the foundation of the gospel he preached. They called it heresy, but it was the very foundation of the truth.

Paul no doubt knew that it was the Sadducean party who were hunting him down and appearing against him. So he took care to make it very clear to Felix what the real issue was. It was his belief in the resurrection of the dead, proved true in the resurrection of Christ. It may also be that Paul wanted to admit that the way he had cried out in the council had not been quite free from blame.

Still, while we note what the historian has told us, we would leave Paul in the hands of his Judge and ours. We only remember that the Spirit had clearly forbidden him to go to Jerusalem at this time. It is no wonder, then, if his conduct on this occasion laid him open to criticism. None of us is perfect. But before we criticise him, let us be sure that we would have acted better ourselves.

Paul could hardly have said that if there had not been Pharisees present who confessed the resurrection of the dead. They must therefore have settled their differences with the Sadducees, who held the opposite view, in their eagerness to put down and punish Paul. The tendency among the Jews seems to have been to treat resurrection as the privilege of the righteous only. That was sure to sink into the reward of Israel in the kingdom of Messiah. But the apostle, guided by the Holy Spirit, shows that it reaches everyone — "of both the just and the unjust."

That was evidently a shot directed at the conscience of Felix, as well as all others present. No one shall remain buried in the grave to escape the mighty hand of God in judgment.

For him it was a sweet and purifying hope; for them it should have been a warning of the most solemn kind. But what did any of them know about an exercised conscience?

But the lamp that carries the light must be seen to be pure and clean, or no one will see how pure and glorious the light is. Paul himself must be clear of every accusation, or men will not receive the gospel he preached as the word of God.

In the Acts of the Apostles we find the word "way" used in a special sense (Acts 19:9; 24:22). We have not, however, felt inclined in any way to paraphrase this expression, as the reader will soon see that it was then used in much the same manner as the word "pietist" is now used to describe Christians.

There was no case to decide, unless the accusation were itself the proof. The only righteous judgment would be to discharge the prisoner. But that was too simple a solution for a man who knew of nothing so simple as a bribe, and who had heard of alms and offerings for his people that Paul had had in hand. Despite his accurate knowledge of the "way," as men called Christianity — which really is the way of life and peace and holiness — Felix just defers the case until Lysias should come down. Yet he already knew Lysias' judgment well, and no one even appears to have sent for Lysias. He waits for delay to bring him some advantage from one side or the other, and so help him to see better. For him that is the only straightforward procedure.

He could well enough have decided on the merits of it, had it pleased him. But he was a governor as well as a judge, and the people he dealt with were always hard to manage. Policy dictated his course, not justice. That happens far too often in this world, to say nothing of the paganism of the Romans and the lack of principle in Felix in particular. Bright will be the day when judgment returns to righteousness.

After hearing both Tertullus and Paul, Felix should have had no difficulty in dismissing the case at once. The accusations themselves carried no weight in a court of law. But he delayed, saying that when he spoke with Lysias he would know the case more fully. He did, however, put Paul into the care of a centurion, with instructions to allow him relative liberty and full visiting rights. The account says nothing more of Lysias coming down, and Felix shows no concern to free an innocent man. He may have given Paul such liberty because he was hoping for a bribe from him, as was in fact the case later (v.26).

The freedom allowed showed plainly what was in the mind of the unjust judge, if only he had been willing to judge by his own convictions. But we also learn how God took care of His servant. He let Paul suffer for Christ's sake, yet softened the imprisonment through the judge himself — and His servant never asked Him for it. Truly all things work together for good for those who love God, and their faith honours Him.

He had adjourned Paul's case; he can adjourn his own. "For the present go your way," he concludes; "when I get an opportunity, I will call for you again."

There was no case to decide, unless the accusation was itself the proof. The only righteous judgment would be to release the prisoner. But that was too simple a solution for a man who knew of nothing so simple as a bribe, and who had heard of the gifts and offerings for his people that Paul had in hand. Felix had accurate knowledge of the "way," as people called Christianity — the way of life and peace and holiness. Even so, he puts the case off until Lysias comes down. He already knew well what Lysias judged, and no one seems even to have sent for Lysias.

The freedom he allowed showed clearly enough what this unjust judge really thought, if only he had been willing to judge by his own convictions. But we also learn how God took care of His servant. God let him suffer for Christ's sake, yet eased the captivity through the judge himself — and not because His servant had asked for it.

Felix had no grudge against Paul, and possibly an interest in his friends and their care for him. So he makes the captivity as light as possible, and will not stop the friends from doing this. God is clearly over it all, in mercy to His servant, while the way out of the prison — which Felix would think so easy for him — stays completely barred.

Felix, it seems, knew a good deal about these things, and it is clear that what he heard made a strong impression on his mind. Many years before this, Christianity had found its way into the Roman army at Caesarea (Acts 10). So he probably knew something about it, and he believed that what Paul said was true. But he played with his convictions, and with his prisoner.

We tend to be ashamed of a friend in jail, but these dear believers were not ashamed; they took pride in being his fellow-partners. Is this not just what Hebrews means, where we read, "Remember those who are in prison, as though in prison with them" (Heb. 13:3)?

There were Christians at Caesarea, as we know, and had been for years. Felix had lived in that town for five years or more, yet we may be sure he never told any of them to explain their beliefs to him, or let them preach to him. A Nazarene preach at Caesarea to a Roman! That would be strange. Yet it was true. For Paul, not for Philip, or Luke, or Aristarchus, Felix sent. The prisoner in chains was to tell the governor of the grace of God, and of His love shown in giving His Son to die for the guilty and the lost... The gospel of God's grace was preached in the governor's palace, and to him directly.

Some days later Felix, who seems to have been away with his wife Drusilla, a Jewish woman, calls for Paul, to hear him about the faith in Christ. By now the new teaching had spread everywhere, and was attracting everyone's attention. Felix knew Jewish matters well, and so did his wife. They wanted to learn from its original source what Christianity was, and so they summon Paul for this purpose.

Daughter of Herod Agrippa I and Cypros, and sister of Agrippa II. She married Aziz king of Emesa when he became a Jew, but was later seduced into leaving her husband and marrying Felix, the governor of Judaea. She was present when Paul was heard before Felix.

I believe "Faith in Christ Jesus" is to be taken in a general sense, as, for instance, in Acts 24:24. This last one may be rather wider. It may take in the whole system of truth of which Christ is the basis and centre and all, revealed to faith.

It would be no wonder if a man with the life he had lived was willing to hear of any way, not too costly, that could give him rest about the future. For a man like him, that future can hardly fail to be more or less a source of unease. But it is no wonder if he finds in his search something graver than he expected. Perhaps he had heard that here was a hope for sinners, though with no real grasp of what sin means.

He had some interest in Paul and his teaching, possibly awakened through his wife Drusilla, who was Jewish... It may be that Felix agreed that he and his wife should listen to Paul with the very intention of getting Paul to bribe him. Still, God gave this opportunity to Paul to preach Christ.

The guilty Roman was little prepared for the many sides of the truth. The Holy Spirit, sent down from heaven, turns that truth to deal with the hearer as he is. Paul spoke, not on the prophets as with Jews, nor on the resurrection as with Athenians, nor even on the cross as at Corinth. He spoke about righteousness, and self-control, and the coming judgment.

The guilty Roman was not ready for the many sides of the truth. The Holy Spirit, sent down from heaven, turns truth to deal with each hearer as he is. Paul did not speak on the prophets, as he did with Jews. He did not speak on the resurrection, as at Athens. He did not even speak on the cross, as at Corinth. He spoke about righteousness, self-control, and the coming judgment.

The word "reason" is the word we get "dialogue" from — people discussing a matter. The word translated "temperance" means self-control. The apostle reasoned with this man about what is right in the sight of God. That meant he stood in great need of self-control if he wished to escape the ultimate judgment of God. Here the judgment on man is still future, since God is offering him the forgiveness of sins. That is why it is called "judgment to come."

The unrighteous judge — the money-loving Felix — might well tremble as the aged apostle spoke about the righteousness of God. It threw the deeds of the man who held him in his power into darker colours than ever. Felix's cheek might well turn pale. With unhesitating speech, the prisoner spoke of his unrestrained lust, his lack of self-control, and of God's repayment for such sins.

He felt the force of what Paul had said. Paul charged him with none of his crimes, yet the words brought them back to his memory, shown up in their true light. Conscience can speak, and when it does the person must be silent. The governor's past life rose up in front of him. It was the foreground of a picture, with judgment and eternity behind it, all lit by a lurid light. For the first time in his life Felix was in the light. But light is too much for a responsible, guilty creature who does not know and enjoy God's grace. The natural impulse is to get away from it… Many a person had no doubt trembled before Felix the governor. Felix now trembled at the words of Paul the prisoner.

Note this fact well, that judgment to come, as preached by Paul, was something for a wicked man to tremble at. The Revised Version uses an even stronger term: "he was terrified."

Perhaps you are saying, "I must wait for a more convenient season." Take care, in case it never comes. Take care, in case, like Felix, your faith is in a convenient season that never comes. He trembled once, and you may have trembled once in your history. There are moments when God puts the gospel before a soul in such a way that the soul is almost constrained, almost persuaded to believe. But the soul pushes it away. It does not decide, and the moment never comes again.

It was no more than a passing terror. There was no repentance toward God. If there had been, he would not have got rid of the searching yet saving word of the gospel. He would not have been content to wait for a "more convenient season", which never really comes.

Take Felix, for example, who trembled while the apostle "reasoned about righteousness and self-control and the coming judgment." How foolish of Felix to resist the Spirit! If he had yielded to Him, the Spirit could have used the same servant to calm his fears by preaching peace by Jesus Christ.

Felix trembles, and talks about hearing him at another time; but that convenient time never came. "At the same time he hoped that money would be given him by Paul." How true, then, and how well timed, that Paul had "reasoned with him about righteousness"! ... There was no justice to be got out of this unjust judge. It was not that he lacked sense, or wisdom, or judgment. He had all these, and so much the worse for him; but he was willing to sacrifice everything for his own ends.

Politely he tells Paul that he is putting things off. He did so because at the time he clearly preferred his sinful lifestyle to Christ. Yet he very often sent for Paul to talk with him, not because he had a troubled conscience, but a hungry lust for money. No doubt he remembered that Paul had said he came to Jerusalem to bring gifts of money to his nation, and Felix had no objection to receiving such gifts.

There was great power with the message, and Felix trembled. Yet he put the matter off to that "convenient season," which so often never comes. ... The real disease at the heart of Felix was the love of money. His case shows this clearly. The Spirit may work powerfully on a man from outside, through the Gospel. Yet one active lust, such as the love of money, can smother any work inside his heart and conscience. True conversion takes place when the Spirit's work within meets and answers His work from outside.

But greed still had hold of him. Their last meeting had not yet taken place. He sent for him often, and talked with him. He did this not because he wanted salvation, but because he wanted money offered to him, "that he might release him." We say this even though the words we have quoted from verse 26 are not found in the oldest manuscripts. They agree completely with the governor's known character. But we may be sure about Paul. At the meetings that followed, he spoke no flattering words. He did not try to win favour with Drusilla to gain his freedom. And Felix never got the slightest encouragement to hope that a bribe would be forthcoming.

But a baser motive rises up to prompt frequent interviews afterwards — that love of money which is a root of all evil. So it was Paul's lot to stay a prisoner for two years. He was cut off from the active, free and wide labours of love that were so precious to him, because Christ filled him to overflowing. But the same Christ gave him strength to accept his chains patiently, while Felix showed just how corrupt he was. Indeed, Felix escaped the just punishment of his many crimes only through his brother's influence with the emperor.

Besides this, the governor hoped that Paul would give him money to be set free. But Paul does not agree to such dealing, and so remains a prisoner. ... Though aware of his innocence, and able to set him free, he cared nothing for justice. Money and public opinion were more important to him. But God's plan was that Paul should stand before other governors and kings, and at last before the Emperor himself. And this is what happened.

There was no justice to be got out of this unjust judge. It was not that he lacked sense, or wisdom, or judgment. He had all these, and so much the worse for him; but he was willing to sacrifice everything for his own ends. He had failed to get the money he wanted. Now he wanted to please those Jews he deeply despised. He was glad to do something that would win their goodwill and cost him nothing. So he leaves Paul bound.

Two years passed before Festus replaced Felix. During that time there were many interviews, but nothing came of them. Felix left Paul bound in an effort to win favour with the Jews. The real cancer at the heart of Felix was the love of money. His case is a clear illustration. The Spirit may work powerfully on a man from outside, through the gospel. But an active lust, such as the love of money, can smother any work on his heart and conscience within. True conversion happens when the Spirit's work within matches and answers His work from outside.

Felix does not appear to have ever had a convenient season. He had two years of opportunity, but seems never to have profited by them. At the end of that time Porcius Festus came into Felix's room, but we never read of a farewell interview between the judge and his prisoner.

After Felix left Paul in prison, Scripture is silent about him, and that silence is fatal. He was fool enough to throw the golden opportunity away. He stifled the voice of God speaking to his conscience.

Two full years passed. Nothing had changed between the governor and his prisoner by the time Felix was recalled. Now the time of retribution in this world might be near for him. So, to secure the favour of the Jews, he left Paul bound. Yet, like many another crafty plan, it failed. Paul stayed bound at Caesarea. The Jews accused Felix at Rome. His brother Pallas had to use all his influence with the Emperor Nero to shield this unrighteous governor from the consequences of his outrageous crimes.

So it was Paul's lot to remain a prisoner for two years. Those years kept him from the active, free, wide labours of love that were so precious to his spirit, because Christ filled him to overflowing. But the same Christ strengthened him to bear his chains with patience, while Felix showed the full depth of his corruption.

Two years of prison had brought him no depression of heart or faith. They had only set him free from his troubling ties with the Jews, and given him moments spent with God.