Paul's Credentials as a Jew
The hearing of Paul's case before Festus and Agrippa had now begun. Standing around were all the notable citizens of Caesarea, including the chief officers of the Roman army. Festus opened the hearing by requesting Agrippa's counsel on what formal charges Paul should face when he appeared before the emperor's court in Rome. Agrippa responded by inviting Paul to speak in his own defense.
Paul then stretched forth his hand, no doubt in a salute expressing respect for the mighty rulers before him, and began his speech in a manner exactly appropriate to the occasion. Without sinking into flattery, he expressed gratitude that Agrippa had consented to be his judge, for he knew that Agrippa was an expert on all questions important to the Jews. He implied that from such a man he could expect sympathy and fairness. Many commentators have noted that in this speech before Agrippa, Paul departed from his usual style and adopted a language that was highly formal and literary. Evidently, he had put much time into preparation of his words.
Paul started off by countering the accusation that Christianity was an illegal sect. As we have noted before, the Romans granted the Jewish religion official recognition. The Jews therefore had a right to pursue their religious customs without fear of Roman interference or censure. In answer to the Jewish leaders who painted Paul's religion as something outside the law, Paul declared that from the beginning of his life, he had always been a strict Jew within the tradition of the Pharisees. His enemies, if they were willing to tell the truth, could be called as witnesses to verify this claim. Paul was speaking here not just of his youth, but of his whole life. In conduct and beliefs, he was, so far as Roman law was concerned, still a Jew and a Pharisee.
Paul then focused on the chief point of contention between himself and his adversaries—whether Jesus rose from the dead. Paul did not actually refer to Jesus' resurrection. Rather, he alluded to it when he said that he was standing on trial because he held to "the hope of the promise made of God unto our fathers." The hope he meant was the hope of living again after death, the same hope that had always motivated the people of Israel to serve God diligently, so that they might share in the resurrection of the just. When the church supported this hope by proclaiming that one man had already risen from the dead, it was positioning itself in the mainstream of Jewish religion. Paul went no further in affirming the resurrection of Christ except to ask Agrippa the simple question, why would you find it incredible?
Paul's Role in Persecuting the Church
Paul continued by rehearsing the events leading up to his own conversion. He spoke of his initial antagonism to the way of Jesus, carrying him to the extreme of vigorously persecuting the church. With authority granted by the high priests, he shut up many saints in jail. When they were tried as offenders worthy of death, he cast his vote against them. In Acts we read that he consented to the death of Stephen, but his use of the plural pronoun when he said, "when they were put to death," suggests that Paul had a hand in the martyrdom of others as well. He was so relentless in oppressing believers in Christ that he went from synagogue to synagogue to root them out and punish them. He even tried to make them blaspheme—that is, blaspheme against Christ, not against the God that Paul thought he was serving. His wording does not indicate that he succeeded, only that he tried.
Finally, his zeal became so all-consuming that he sought to eradicate the church in places far removed from Jerusalem. Again, his use of the plural gives us new insight, for he said that he carried his campaign of persecution not just to one city, but to "cities." Therefore, Damascus was not the first place he went as a persecutor. Churches in other places had already felt his wrath.
But on his way to Damascus his life changed. In the next portion of the speech, Paul retold the story of his conversion, giving us the third rendition found in the Book of Acts. But here he added some details missing in the other accounts. He said that suddenly he was engulfed by a great light. The other accounts do not remark on its brightness except to say that it was great. Now Paul revealed that its brightness exceeded the sun. Like John, who also saw the glorified Christ (Rev. 1:16), Paul could not think of any other suitable comparison.
Another new detail divulged by this account of Paul's conversion is that the great light smote the whole company of travelers to the ground. An earlier account says that the others stood speechless while Paul conversed with the Lord (Acts 9:7). We may assume that Luke would not have given us both accounts in their present wording if he saw a contradiction. An easy way to harmonize them is to suppose that after the light struck them all down, the others immediately regained their feet while Paul remained prostrate.
Continuing his defense before Agrippa, Paul recounted what the Lord said. The Lord's words were somewhat more extended than we would deduce from the other accounts. We cannot tell whether, in this account, Paul was giving a fuller report of his dialogue with the Lord, or combining the Lord's words on the road to Damascus with words spoken to him on later occasions, such as during his first visit to the Temple after his conversion (Acts 22:18-21). The point Paul wished to make, however, was that Christ appointed him to carry the gospel to the gentiles. Paul traveled far from his own nation and preached to multitudes alien to his own people not because he turned against the Jews and became their enemy, but because God wished to offer His mercy to people besides the Jews. God wished to turn the gentiles from darkness to light, from the power of Satan to the power of God, that they too might receive eternal life.
His Career in Retrospect
No doubt with a ring of triumph in his voice, Paul then declared that he had fulfilled the solemn task Christ bequeathed to him. He had not failed to obey the heavenly vision, but had carried the gospel to places far and wide.
As Paul reviewed his life of service, he remembered that he preached Christ to the gentiles first in Damascus, then in Jerusalem and Judea, and finally in other regions. His message had always been the same. He urged his hearers to come into a right relationship with God by repenting of their sins and living lives devoted to good works. Paul stressed the good works that Christians do because he was addressing two leaders of government. He wanted them to understand that Christians are good citizens.
To counter the accusations brought against him, Paul denied that his enemies were sincere. All their attempts to portray him as an evildoer were a smokescreen for their real complaint—that they did not like his preaching. Now it was evident why Paul had just summarized his preaching as prodding men to good works. He wanted the rulers before him to see how unreasonable the Jews were. These Jews sought to condemn a man whose only offense was that he worked diligently to turn men from wickedness to righteousness.
Yet, as Paul went on to say, his enemies had not been able to stop him. In Jerusalem, God intervened to save his life, and with God's help Paul was still preaching the same message he had always preached. What was that message? It was merely to affirm the truth of the Old Testament Scriptures which look ahead to three momentous events: (1) Christ would suffer and die, (2) He would rise again from the grave, and (3) He would send light—that is, the knowledge of how to be saved—to both Jews and gentiles. Implicit in Paul's words is the claim that Jesus was the man who fulfilled all these prophecies.
Hardness of Proud Hearts
Festus had heard enough. He interrupted Paul with a loud voice, accusing him of being crazy. He attributed Paul's dementia to much learning. From his sneering outburst in objection to Paul's message, we can draw several conclusions. First, it is obvious that Paul had the speech and bearing of a learned man. Even a ruler accustomed to men trying to impress him could see that Paul was a person of rare accomplishments. Second, it is equally obvious that Festus was a hard-headed skeptic with no use for supernatural religion. Earlier, he characterized Jewish beliefs as superstition. Now, he said Paul was crazy, no doubt because he could think of no other way to explain Paul's vision of Christ.
Paul calmly brushed aside the charge. He replied that he spoke words of truth and "sobriety," the latter term bearing the sense "sanity." Paul was simply denying the charge that Festus had just leveled against him. Evidently he did not feel that further dialogue with Festus would be profitable, for he paid him no further attention and turned rather to Agrippa. He must have hoped that the king's heart would prove to be softer than Festus's.
Paul was not content simply to defend himself. He wanted to persuade his hearers, especially Agrippa, to believe in Christ. Yet to issue a gospel invitation to a king required great delicacy. Paul started by expressing the conviction that Agrippa already knew a great deal about "these things," undoubtedly referring to the beginnings and beliefs of the church, as well as to the role of Paul in spreading the new faith to the gentile world. Therefore, without hearing more from Paul, Agrippa was already in a position to declare his view of Jesus. But instead of asking Agrippa about Jesus directly, Paul posed a different question. He asked whether Agrippa believed the prophets. To encourage an affirmative answer, Paul immediately expressed his confidence that Agrippa did believe the prophets. His support for the Jewish religion was in fact a feature of his public policy. Paul was evidently hoping that if he could induce Agrippa to declare his faith in the prophets, the king would see that simple logic required him to put faith in the One foretold by the prophets; that is, in Jesus.
But Agrippa escaped the net of love that the great fisherman of souls was spreading about him. He responded, "Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian." "Almost" does not appear in the Greek. A literal translation runs, "In a short time, you would persuade me to become a Christian," or, in the view of some scholars, "In a short time, you would persuade me to act the part of a Christian." His comment should probably be understood as a question, perhaps a sarcastic question. Whether he was touched by Paul's testimony, we do not know. We can hope that he was. Perhaps in his desire to hear Paul speak and in his clemency toward Paul, we find some evidence that he was searching for truth. But sadly, when viewed by itself, his last statement to Paul offers no evidence that he was close to accepting Christ. In fact, he did not accept Christ. He too suffered from hardness of heart. A life of unbridled self-indulgence had eroded away his guilt for sin and his sense of need for a Savior. Now, at the climactic moment in the history of his soul, he could not reach out and take eternal life at the expense of admitting he was a sinner.
Paul closed his testimony with words breathing sad resignation to the unbelief all around him. We can imagine that almost with tears he expressed his solemn desire before God that not only Agrippa, but his whole audience, were Christians like himself. The Greek for "both almost, and altogether" carries the idea "either with few words or with many." In reply to Agrippa's comment, he was saying that he would welcome a decision for Christ whether it came as a result of a brief presentation of the truth, such as he had just given, or an extended presentation. The implication is that he was willing to talk further if anyone wished to hear more about Christ.
Having heard enough to satisfy them, the rulers brought the hearing to an end. They rose from their seats and went aside to compare their reactions and consider their options. They all agreed that Paul was innocent—he had not done anything to warrant arrest and imprisonment. Much less had he done anything to warrant trial and conviction on a capital charge. How then should his case be handled? Agrippa offered his judgment that they had no decision to make. Paul had taken other options off the table by appealing to Caesar. No doubt Agrippa was unaware that Festus had left Paul no choice. If Paul had not appealed, Festus would have handed him over to the Jews. Now, as Agrippa well understood, there was no legal room to release Paul. Out of respect for his rights as a Roman citizen, the court had no alternative but to send him to Caesar as he desired. Reaching a just verdict had become the business of Caesar's court, and neither Festus nor Agrippa retained any role as judges.
Paul's Last Journey Underway
After a period of unstated duration, the governor sent Paul to Rome. He committed Paul and some other prisoners to the care of a centurion named Julius, whose mission was to escort them all to their destination. The reappearance of the pronoun "we" indicates that Paul was allowed to take Luke as a traveling companion. During at least the first part of the journey, he was also attended by Aristarchus of Macedonia.
From Caesarea, Paul's ship sailed northward about sixty-nine miles to the port of Sidon. Here Julius treated Paul with special courtesy, allowing him to go ashore and meet with Christian friends. After all, Paul was far from being a convicted criminal. He had been found innocent by the lower court in Caesarea, and he was going to Rome at his own request. So, the centurion did not seek to restrict his liberty. Perhaps the kindness shown by Julius throughout the journey shows that he was a sympathizer with the Christian faith, although not an actual believer.
The ship reembarked and sailed "under Cypress." The meaning is that the ship sailed on the lee side, opposite the prevailing winds, which came from the southwest. In other words, the ship rounded the island on the northeast. Had it gone the other way, the winds would have hindered its progress. Then the ship drew in close to the coast of Asia Minor and used land breezes to make headway. After passing over the seas of Cilicia and Pamphylia, the ship at last reached Myra, well to the west. So far, the trip had taken perhaps ten to twenty days.
At Myra, Paul changed ships. The centurion located a ship bound for Italy and took his prisoners aboard. The ship belonged to the fleet that regularly supplied Rome with grain from Egypt, Rome's breadbasket. This one had just arrived from Alexandria. Soon they set sail again and moved slowly westward, taking many days before they came to Cnidus, on the Asian coast just north of Crete. The reason for the delay was a strong wind blowing against them, from the northwest. To escape it, the ship turned south with the intention of skirting Crete on the lee side. But it managed to get around the point of Crete only with some difficulty, perhaps due to the many rocks in its path. After reaching safety, it moved easily along the southern coast of the island until it reached a friendly harbor, a small bay called Fair Havens, close to the city of Lasea. Beyond, the coast turned northward. Therefore, the ship could not continue until the contrary wind had subsided. So, the captain halted and waited for better conditions.
Paul's Warning Ignored
The conditions he hoped for never developed. Time crept onward until summer was gone. Any attempt to cross the Mediterranean after the coming of autumn was dangerous and foolhardy. Roman writers state that navigation on the open sea fell off after September 14 and came to a complete halt after November 11. It did not resume until February. When the delay continued beyond the fast, Paul became concerned about proceeding with the voyage. The fast or feast that the account is referring to is the Day of Atonement. Its date varied from year to year, but fell generally in mid-September. Some scholars suppose that the year of the voyage was AD 59, when the feast fell on October 5.
No doubt under the direction of the Holy Spirit, Paul now advised the two men in command—the centurion and the captain, who was also the ship's owner—to go no further, but to remain where they were for the duration of the winter. He warned that if the voyage continued, the result would be disastrous. The ship would sustain great damage, the cargo would be lost, and people would die.
Since the ship was in the service of the Roman government, the highest ranking officer on board was not the captain, but the centurion. It was therefore his decision whether to sail onward. But lacking the nautical experience of a professional sailor, he naturally attached great weight to the captain's judgment, and the captain assured him that it would be safer to winter at a different harbor. At Fair Havens, they were exposed to a full semicircle of winds. If they could move but a short distance further down the southern coast of the island, they would reach Phenice (actually, Phoenix), a harbor that was much better sheltered.
Although the time for good weather was slipping away, a soft breeze suddenly came up from the south, exactly the sort of wind that was good for making the transit to Phoenix. Therefore, the ship set sail and moved comfortably along the coast of the island. It appeared that all was going well. The distance they had to cover by a straight path was only about fifty miles.
But no sooner had they gone beyond the possibility of safe retreat to Fair Havens than they were swallowed up by catastrophe. A terrible tempestuous wind, known to ancient mariners as Euroclydon, descended upon them. It swept down from Mt. Ida, the great mountain of Crete, and slammed them from the northeast. The ancient sailing vessel, bearing a single large sail, was not equipped to deal with any extreme of wind or weather, and suddenly the peaceful voyage collapsed, becoming instead an absorbing struggle to survive.
© 2009, 2012 Stanley Edgar Rickard (Ed Rickard, the author). All rights reserved.