Acts Chapter 26
Paul’s Defense Before King Agrippa
A. Paul speaks in his hearing before King Agrippa
Acts 26:1-3
Then Agrippa said to Paul, “You are permitted to speak for yourself.” So Paul stretched out his hand and answered for himself: “I think myself happy, King Agrippa, because today I shall answer for myself before you concerning all the things of which I am accused by the Jews, especially because you are expert in all customs and questions which have to do with the Jews. Therefore I beg you to hear me patiently.”
Paul, though bound in chains, stood with remarkable composure and dignity before King Agrippa. This was no ordinary man he faced. Agrippa’s family lineage was steeped in hostility against the people of God. His great-grandfather, Herod the Great, had attempted to destroy the infant Jesus in Bethlehem (Matthew 2:16). His grandfather, Herod Antipas, had John the Baptist beheaded (Matthew 14:1-11). His father, Herod Agrippa I, had executed James, the brother of John, and imprisoned Peter (Acts 12:1-3). Now, before Agrippa II, Paul stood to give an account of his ministry and to proclaim the truth of the gospel. This background makes Agrippa an unlikely candidate to receive the message favorably, yet Paul approached him with respect and boldness.
Paul’s opening words reveal his perspective. He considered himself fortunate to present his defense before Agrippa, not merely because he might be vindicated, but because he could proclaim Christ before rulers and kings. The Lord had promised at Paul’s conversion: “Go, for he is a chosen vessel of Mine to bear My name before Gentiles, kings, and the children of Israel” (Acts 9:15). Now Paul was experiencing a partial fulfillment of that divine calling.
Paul appealed to Agrippa’s expertise in Jewish customs and controversies. Unlike the Roman governor Festus, who lacked understanding of Jewish matters, Agrippa was knowledgeable. Therefore Paul requested his patience, knowing the issues at hand could not be reduced to mere political or civil disputes but touched upon the heart of God’s covenant dealings with Israel.
Paul’s posture—stretching out his hand—was a gesture of classical rhetoric, signaling order and respect. In that auditorium at Caesarea, Paul stood not as a mere defendant, but as an ambassador of Christ. The gathered rulers, military commanders, and dignitaries (Acts 25:23) likely saw him as a prisoner, yet in reality he was the only man present who was truly free in Christ. This scene underscores an important principle: the authority of God’s servant does not rest in political office, social status, or outward power, but in the Spirit of God and the truth of His Word.
Acts 26:4-5
“My manner of life from my youth, which was spent from the beginning among my own nation at Jerusalem, all the Jews know. They knew me from the first, if they were willing to testify, that according to the strictest sect of our religion I lived a Pharisee.”
Paul began his defense by appealing to his personal history, which was well known among the Jews. Though born in Tarsus of Cilicia, Paul was raised and educated in Jerusalem. He trained at the feet of Gamaliel (Acts 22:3), one of the most respected rabbis of that time. His Jewish identity and faithfulness were beyond dispute. From his youth, Paul lived in strict adherence to the law. He was not a casual observer of Judaism but belonged to its most rigorous sect, the Pharisees.
The Pharisees were zealous for the law, holding not only to the written Word of God but also to the traditions handed down by the elders. Though often rebuked by Jesus for their hypocrisy, the Pharisees nonetheless represented the strictest devotion to the Jewish faith. Paul’s statement, “according to the strictest sect of our religion I lived a Pharisee,” shows that his former life was rooted in deep religious conviction and discipline. His accusers could not deny this; indeed, many of them would have once admired his zeal in persecuting the church.
By highlighting his Pharisaic background, Paul established his credibility. He was not a renegade Jew ignorant of the law, nor an outsider trying to impose foreign ideas upon Israel. Instead, he was a man who once excelled in Judaism beyond many of his contemporaries (Galatians 1:14). This foundation made his testimony about Christ all the more powerful. His transformation was not due to ignorance or rebellion against Judaism, but to a divine encounter with the risen Lord.
This portion of Paul’s defense also illustrates a crucial apologetic principle: the gospel is not opposed to the Old Testament or to God’s covenant purposes for Israel. Rather, it is the fulfillment of them. Paul’s life as a Pharisee prepared him to see the promises of God culminate in Jesus Christ, the Messiah of Israel.
Acts 26:6-8
“And now I stand and am judged for the hope of the promise made by God to our fathers. To this promise our twelve tribes, earnestly serving God night and day, hope to attain. For this hope’s sake, King Agrippa, I am accused by the Jews. Why should it be thought incredible by you that God raises the dead?”
Paul transitioned from recounting his Pharisaic past to affirming that his faith in Christ was not a betrayal of Judaism but the fulfillment of its deepest hope. He declared that he was judged for “the hope of the promise made by God to our fathers.” This was a direct reference to the covenant promises made to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, promises that centered on blessing, redemption, and resurrection. Israel’s twelve tribes, though divided geographically and politically, still shared the common expectation of the Messiah and the resurrection of the dead. Paul’s point was striking: the very thing for which Israel labored in prayer and service to God, day and night, was the reason he was now accused.
He then confronted Agrippa personally with a rhetorical question: “Why should it be thought incredible by you that God raises the dead?” Agrippa, knowledgeable in Jewish Scriptures and traditions (Acts 26:3), should have understood that resurrection was not only possible but consistent with the very character of God. The Old Testament testified to this hope: “For I know that my Redeemer lives, and He shall stand at last on the earth; and after my skin is destroyed, this I know, that in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see for myself, and my eyes shall behold, and not another. How my heart yearns within me!” (Job 19:25-27). Likewise, Daniel declared: “And many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, some to shame and everlasting contempt” (Daniel 12:2).
For Agrippa, belief in resurrection should not have been difficult. As Jesus Himself said, “With men this is impossible, but with God all things are possible” (Matthew 19:26). The resurrection is not a question of human power but of divine omnipotence. Paul’s reasoning was simple yet profound: if one acknowledges the God of creation, then the raising of the dead is not incredible but entirely consistent with His sovereign power.
Acts 26:9-11
“Indeed, I myself thought I must do many things contrary to the name of Jesus of Nazareth. This I also did in Jerusalem, and many of the saints I shut up in prison, having received authority from the chief priests; and when they were put to death, I cast my vote against them. And I punished them often in every synagogue and compelled them to blaspheme; and being exceedingly enraged against them, I persecuted them even to foreign cities.”
Paul next confessed his former hostility to Christ and His followers. Before his conversion, Paul was convinced that it was his duty to oppose the name of Jesus of Nazareth. His zeal led him to imprison believers, condemn them to death, and force them under pressure to deny Christ. His relentless persecution even extended beyond Jerusalem into foreign cities, demonstrating the depth of his hatred and the breadth of his mission against the church.
The phrase “I cast my vote against them” suggests Paul participated in official judgments, possibly as a member of the Sanhedrin, which required marriage. If so, this detail implies that Paul had once been married, though by the time of his Christian ministry he was single (1 Corinthians 7:7-9). His singleness may have been the result of widowhood or desertion following his conversion, both painful possibilities that underscore the cost he bore in following Christ.
Paul later reflected on his past with deep regret: “For I am the least of the apostles, who am not worthy to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God” (1 Corinthians 15:9). He would even call himself the chief of sinners (1 Timothy 1:15), recognizing that his persecution of Christians was a grievous sin against God. Perhaps the memory that he had compelled believers to blaspheme haunted him most of all, for he had driven men and women to deny the very Savior who had redeemed them.
Paul described himself as “exceedingly enraged” against the followers of Christ. His fury, clothed in religious zeal, revealed the emptiness of a heart estranged from God. Though outwardly righteous as a Pharisee, his violent rage exposed his inner darkness. This provides a powerful reminder: zeal for religion without Christ can become a weapon of cruelty. Only the grace of God could transform such a man into the apostle of grace and truth.
Acts 26:12-15
“While thus occupied, as I journeyed to Damascus with authority and commission from the chief priests, at midday, O king, along the road I saw a light from heaven, brighter than the sun, shining around me and those who journeyed with me. And when we all had fallen to the ground, I heard a voice speaking to me and saying in the Hebrew language, ‘Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me? It is hard for you to kick against the goads.’ So I said, ‘Who are You, Lord?’ And He said, ‘I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting.’”
Paul now gave his fullest and most detailed account of his conversion on the Damascus Road. He described his journey to Damascus as being undertaken with full authority and commission from the chief priests. He was not acting independently, but as an official agent of the Jewish leadership. This underscores the irony: the very men who were now his accusers had once empowered him in his mission of hatred against the followers of Christ. Paul began this journey filled with self-righteousness, armed with authority, and certain of his cause, but everything changed in a single moment.
Paul testified that “at midday, O king, along the road I saw a light from heaven, brighter than the sun.” The detail that it was midday emphasizes the supernatural intensity of this light. The Middle Eastern sun at noon is blindingly bright, yet this heavenly light exceeded it in brilliance. Paul literally saw the light before he spiritually understood it. The confidence and pride with which he had set out for Damascus were shattered by a divine revelation that no man could mistake.
The impact was overwhelming: “And when we all had fallen to the ground, I heard a voice speaking to me and saying in the Hebrew language, ‘Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me? It is hard for you to kick against the goads.’” The repetition of his name (“Saul, Saul”) revealed the personal appeal of Christ. The Lord’s address was not cold or distant, but intimate and urgent. The accusation “why are you persecuting Me?” revealed the misdirected nature of Paul’s mission. Though he thought he was defending God’s honor, in truth he was attacking the Son of God. Jesus so identifies with His church that to persecute His followers is to persecute Him directly.
The phrase “It is hard for you to kick against the goads” was a familiar proverb in the ancient world. Goads were sharp sticks used to prod oxen into movement. For an ox to resist by kicking against them only caused more pain. Jesus’ words to Paul conveyed both the futility and danger of resisting God’s will. Paul’s zeal against the church was not evidence of strength, but of rebellion against the God he claimed to serve.
Stunned, Paul could only respond with a question: “Who are You, Lord?” This shows that while Paul recognized the divine nature of the encounter, he did not yet understand that the One speaking was Jesus. The answer came with earth-shattering clarity: “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting.” In an instant, Paul’s world was turned upside down. He realized that Jesus was alive, vindicated in glory, not condemned in shame. The resurrection was no longer a theological claim but an undeniable reality.
In persecuting the followers of Jesus, Paul had in fact been fighting against God Himself. This recognition demanded immediate repentance. Repentance is not merely turning from sin in the moral sense, but a complete transformation of mind and heart. Paul did not need to repent of a life of immorality, but of his misguided zeal, false assumptions about God, and rebellion against Christ. His conversion demonstrates that salvation is not earned by morality, tradition, or religious devotion, but is a sovereign act of God’s grace.
Paul’s Damascus encounter is a striking example of divine initiative. He was not seeking Christ, but Christ sought him. He was not on the path of truth, but Christ intervened to stop him. As Jesus said in John 15:16, “You did not choose Me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit.” Paul’s salvation was the result of Christ’s sovereign call, and his life thereafter became a living testimony to the grace that saves even the most unlikely of sinners.
Acts 26:16-18
“‘But rise and stand on your feet; for I have appeared to you for this purpose, to make you a minister and a witness both of the things which you have seen and of the things which I will yet reveal to you. I will deliver you from the Jewish people, as well as from the Gentiles, to whom I now send you, to open their eyes, in order to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan to God, that they may receive forgiveness of sins and an inheritance among those who are sanctified by faith in Me.’”
The risen Christ did not merely arrest Paul’s rebellion; He redirected Paul’s life into divine service. Having humbled him to the ground, Jesus then commanded him, “But rise and stand on your feet.” This command shows that God’s call does not end with conviction and humility, but with commissioning and action. Paul was not to remain prostrate in defeat, but to rise in strength, ready to fulfill a new mission. This was the beginning of his lifelong obedience to the Lord’s call, echoing Isaiah’s words when God commissioned His prophet: “Also I heard the voice of the Lord, saying: ‘Whom shall I send, and who will go for Us?’ Then I said, ‘Here am I! Send me’” (Isaiah 6:8).
Jesus declared His purpose plainly: “For I have appeared to you for this purpose, to make you a minister and a witness both of the things which you have seen and of the things which I will yet reveal to you.” This was a striking reversal. The Sanhedrin had sent Paul with authority to bind and persecute, but Christ sent him with authority to minister and witness. The Greek word for “minister” here (hupēretēs) literally refers to an under-rower, one who serves under command. Paul’s role was not to make the message serve him, but to serve the message faithfully. As a “witness,” he was called not to invent truth but to testify of what he had seen and what he would yet be shown. This reflects the Christian’s calling as well: not to create new revelations, but to bear faithful witness to the truth revealed in Christ through Scripture.
Jesus also assured Paul of divine protection: “I will deliver you from the Jewish people, as well as from the Gentiles, to whom I now send you.” Paul’s mission would take him into hostile territory, and he would face opposition from both Jews and Gentiles. Yet Christ promised deliverance. This was not a guarantee of comfort or freedom from suffering, but of preservation until Paul’s mission was complete. God’s servants are immortal until their work is done.
Christ then defined Paul’s mission: “to open their eyes, in order to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan to God.” This description captures the essence of conversion. Humanity, apart from Christ, is spiritually blind, walking in darkness under the dominion of Satan. Only through the proclamation of the gospel can eyes be opened. This is the work of God’s Spirit through the preaching of Christ crucified and risen. As Paul later wrote, “But even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing, whose minds the god of this age has blinded, who do not believe, lest the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine on them” (2 Corinthians 4:3-4).
Four results would follow the opening of eyes through the gospel:
Being turned from darkness to light – Deliverance from ignorance, sin, and spiritual blindness into the illumination of Christ, who declared, “I am the light of the world. He who follows Me shall not walk in darkness, but have the light of life” (John 8:12).
Being turned from the power of Satan to God – Conversion is a transfer of kingdoms. As Colossians 1:13-14 says, “He has delivered us from the power of darkness and conveyed us into the kingdom of the Son of His love, in whom we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins.”
To receive forgiveness of sins – This is the heart of the gospel. Forgiveness is not earned but freely given through Christ’s atoning death. As Ephesians 1:7 declares, “In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of His grace.”
To receive an inheritance among those who are sanctified by faith in Me – Salvation not only pardons sin but brings believers into God’s family and inheritance. Sanctification is by faith, not works, and it marks out God’s people as holy. Peter wrote, “To an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled and that does not fade away, reserved in heaven for you” (1 Peter 1:4).
Finally, Jesus described His people as “those who are sanctified by faith in Me.” This statement underlines the essential doctrine of justification by faith. Sanctification begins at the moment of faith, when a sinner is set apart for God, and continues progressively throughout life. Paul stressed that salvation is not by works of law or ritual, but solely through faith in Christ’s finished work. This truth was the very point of controversy between Paul and his Jewish accusers, and it was also the invitation extended to King Agrippa himself.
As Paul spoke these words in the great auditorium at Caesarea, filled with Roman commanders and Jewish dignitaries (Acts 25:23), one can imagine his gaze fixed intently on Agrippa. These words were not only testimony but invitation. Agrippa, like all men, needed his eyes opened, his sins forgiven, and his inheritance secured through faith in Jesus Christ.
Acts 26:19-20
“Therefore, King Agrippa, I was not disobedient to the heavenly vision, but declared first to those in Damascus and in Jerusalem, and throughout all the region of Judea, and then to the Gentiles, that they should repent, turn to God, and do works befitting repentance.”
Paul now testified to his obedience to the divine commission he had received. His words, “Therefore, King Agrippa, I was not disobedient to the heavenly vision,” carried immense weight. Given the glory of the revelation on the Damascus Road, disobedience would have been unthinkable. To resist such a heavenly vision would be to resist God Himself. Paul made clear that his ministry, far from being self-invented or politically motivated, was simply obedience to what the risen Christ commanded.
He outlined the scope and substance of his preaching. He began in Damascus, the very city to which he was originally sent to persecute believers. The irony is striking: the persecutor entered as an enemy but quickly became a preacher of Christ. From Damascus he went to Jerusalem and throughout Judea, and then to the Gentiles. This sequence followed the pattern of Acts 1:8—first in Jerusalem, then Judea, Samaria, and to the ends of the earth. Paul’s ministry was nothing more than obedience to the global mission of Christ.
Paul’s message was succinct and consistent: “that they should repent, turn to God, and do works befitting repentance.” Repentance is not merely remorse or sorrow for sin, but a complete change of mind that leads to a change of direction. Turning to God is the positive counterpart to repentance, for one cannot truly repent without turning in faith to Him. And genuine repentance produces fruit. As John the Baptist proclaimed, “Therefore bear fruits worthy of repentance” (Luke 3:8). Works do not save, but they demonstrate the reality of repentance. Paul’s gospel, therefore, was not one of cheap grace but of transforming grace—faith that produces obedience.
Acts 26:21-23
“For these reasons the Jews seized me in the temple and tried to kill me. Therefore, having obtained help from God, to this day I stand, witnessing both to small and great, saying no other things than those which the prophets and Moses said would come; that the Christ would suffer, that He would be the first to rise from the dead, and would proclaim light to the Jewish people and to the Gentiles.”
Paul explained the real reason for his persecution. “For these reasons the Jews seized me in the temple and tried to kill me.” His offense was not political sedition nor desecration of the temple, but his proclamation that the gospel extended to the Gentiles. This was the stumbling stone for many Jews, who could not accept that salvation was offered equally to the nations without submission to Jewish law. Paul, however, boldly declared that the message of Christ was for all.
He testified that “having obtained help from God, to this day I stand.” Paul’s survival was not due to cleverness, Roman protection, or favorable circumstances, but to God’s sustaining hand. Though he had been imprisoned for over two years, Paul saw this not as defeat but as divine opportunity. He stood not only alive but with boldness, witnessing “both to small and great.” Whether before humble hearers or powerful kings, Paul’s message did not change. This reveals his singular focus: he valued gospel proclamation over personal freedom, reputation, or safety.
Paul’s defense was rooted in Scripture, not human philosophy. He declared that he was “saying no other things than those which the prophets and Moses said would come.” This was crucial, especially before Agrippa, who knew the Jewish Scriptures. Paul was not introducing a new religion but proclaiming the fulfillment of Israel’s hope. Moses had foretold the coming of a greater Prophet (Deuteronomy 18:15), and the prophets had spoken of the suffering Servant (Isaiah 53), the resurrection (Psalm 16:10), and the light to the Gentiles (Isaiah 49:6). Paul stood firmly in continuity with God’s revelation through the Old Testament.
The content of his preaching can be summarized in three great truths:
That the Christ would suffer – Jesus’ death was not a tragic accident but the fulfillment of prophecy. As Isaiah 53:5 declares, “But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement for our peace was upon Him, and by His stripes we are healed.”
That He would be the first to rise from the dead – The resurrection of Jesus marked Him as the firstfruits of those who will rise (1 Corinthians 15:20). His resurrection validated His Messiahship and guaranteed the believer’s future resurrection.
That He would proclaim light to the Jewish people and to the Gentiles – The message of salvation is universal. Jesus is the true light who gives life to all men (John 1:9). Paul emphasized that both Jew and Gentile alike are called into the same hope through Christ.
In these few verses, Paul condensed the essence of the gospel: the cross, the resurrection, and the mission to the nations. This was not only his defense before Agrippa but his proclamation of salvation to all who heard.
B. The Response from Festus and Agrippa
Acts 26:24-26
Now as he thus made his defense, Festus said with a loud voice, “Paul, you are beside yourself! Much learning is driving you mad!” But he said, “I am not mad, most noble Festus, but speak the words of truth and reason. For the king, before whom I also speak freely, knows these things; for I am convinced that none of these things escapes his attention, since this thing was not done in a corner.”
As Paul presented his defense with clarity and conviction, Festus could no longer contain himself. With a loud voice he interrupted, declaring, “Paul, you are beside yourself! Much learning is driving you mad!” To Festus, the claims Paul made—that God raises the dead, that Christ personally appeared to him, that salvation was offered to Jew and Gentile alike—sounded like the ravings of a fanatic. From a purely worldly perspective, Festus’ reaction is understandable. Paul was in chains, yet spoke with joy (Acts 26:2). He claimed that the crucified Jesus was alive and reigning in glory (Acts 26:23). He testified of a heavenly vision that changed the course of his life (Acts 26:14-19). He cared more about proclaiming the message of Christ than about securing his personal freedom (Acts 26:22). To a Roman governor who valued power, status, and pragmatism, such priorities could only appear irrational.
The gospel has always been perceived as madness by the unbelieving world. Paul himself wrote, “For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God” (1 Corinthians 1:18). The radical nature of the gospel—demanding repentance, offering salvation by grace, and proclaiming the resurrection—strikes at the core of human pride and worldly wisdom. Festus’ response reflects this very tension.
Paul, however, answered with calm dignity: “I am not mad, most noble Festus, but speak the words of truth and reason.” His response highlights two essential characteristics of the gospel. First, it is truth: rooted in God’s revelation, fulfilled in Christ, and confirmed by historical events. Second, it is reason: though faith transcends human logic, it is never contrary to it. Belief in the resurrection, though miraculous, is consistent with the character of the God who created all things. As Paul said earlier, “Why should it be thought incredible by you that God raises the dead?” (Acts 26:8). Faith is not blind irrationality; it is trust in the God of truth whose works stand open to examination.
Paul then turned to Agrippa, saying, “For the king, before whom I also speak freely, knows these things; for I am convinced that none of these things escapes his attention, since this thing was not done in a corner.” Unlike Festus, who was new to Judea and largely ignorant of Jewish religious matters, Agrippa was well aware of the history of Christ and the spread of Christianity. The crucifixion of Jesus was a public event in Jerusalem during a major feast. Reports of His resurrection, the explosive growth of the church, and the testimony of eyewitnesses were all widely known. Paul reminded Agrippa that these were not secretive myths or private revelations, but historical facts evident to any who would honestly consider them.
The phrase “this thing was not done in a corner” underscores the openness of Christianity’s foundation. Unlike the hidden mysteries of pagan religions, the gospel rests on public, verifiable events: Christ’s life, death, and resurrection. This is why Paul could insist that his message was both true and reasonable. One cannot dismiss Christ as irrelevant, for His impact on history and humanity demands an answer. The crucifixion and resurrection stand as God’s decisive acts in history, and every person, great or small, must reckon with them.
Acts 26:27-29
“King Agrippa, do you believe the prophets? I know that you do believe.” Then Agrippa said to Paul, “You almost persuade me to become a Christian.” And Paul said, “I would to God that not only you, but also all who hear me today, might become both almost and altogether such as I am, except for these chains.”
Paul, with boldness and pastoral concern, turned directly to Agrippa. He asked, “King Agrippa, do you believe the prophets? I know that you do believe.” Paul did not begin by asking whether Agrippa believed in Jesus directly. Instead, he appealed to Agrippa’s acknowledged belief in the prophets of Israel. This was a masterful approach. If Agrippa admitted belief in the prophets, then reason and truth would lead him inevitably to Christ, for the prophets testified of Him. As Jesus said, “For if you believed Moses, you would believe Me; for he wrote about Me” (John 5:46). Paul’s strategy was to connect what Agrippa already professed to believe with the logical and spiritual conclusion he needed to embrace: faith in Jesus Christ.
This was not merely an intellectual exercise. Paul brought the matter to a point of decision. The gospel requires more than passive acknowledgment; it calls for a personal response. In the hearing of governors, commanders, and dignitaries, Paul looked at Agrippa and demanded an answer, placing his soul in the balance before God.
Agrippa’s reply was tragic: “You almost persuade me to become a Christian.” The wording suggests reluctance, hesitation, and a refusal to take the final step. Whether he meant “in a short time you would persuade me” or “with little effort you would persuade me,” the result was the same: Agrippa remained unmoved. Almost persuaded means lost, for salvation is not partial but complete. To be almost a Christian is to still be fully outside of Christ. As James 2:10 declares, “For whoever shall keep the whole law, and yet stumble in one point, he is guilty of all.”
Agrippa condemned himself by acknowledging how near he stood to belief yet refusing to embrace it. His “almost” reveals both the clarity of Paul’s message and the hardness of his own heart. There is no merit in being close to salvation without receiving it. Almost escaping judgment is still perishing; almost entering eternal life is still eternal death.
Why was Agrippa only almost persuaded? The Scripture does not say explicitly, but the setting offers clues. On one side sat Bernice, his sister, with whom history suggests he had an immoral relationship. To embrace Christ would mean renouncing sin, and Agrippa was unwilling. On the other side sat Festus, the Roman governor who had just declared Paul mad. To yield to Christ might bring Festus’ ridicule, and Agrippa feared the opinion of men more than the judgment of God. And before him stood Paul, a man of truth and wisdom, but bound in chains. Perhaps Agrippa thought, “If I follow Christ, I too may share Paul’s chains.” The fear of losing sin, reputation, and comfort kept him bound in unbelief.
Charles Spurgeon aptly rebuked such cowardice: “Alas, how many are influenced by fear of men! Oh, you cowards, will you be damned out of fear? Will you sooner let your souls perish than show your manhood by telling a poor mortal that you defy his scorn? Dare you not follow the right though all men in the world should call you to do the wrong? Oh, you cowards! You cowards! How you deserve to perish who have not enough soul to call your souls your own, but cower down before the sneers of fools!”
Paul’s response was noble and evangelistic: “I would to God that not only you, but also all who hear me today, might become both almost and altogether such as I am, except for these chains.” With these words, Paul lifted his chained hands as if to show that though he was bound outwardly, he was freer in Christ than all the kings and governors present. His wish was not for revenge nor vindication, but for their salvation. His chains were a small price to pay for the eternal freedom he enjoyed in Christ.
Here we see the heart of a true witness. Paul did not seek prestige, power, or even release from prison. His greatest desire was that others might share in the salvation that Christ had given him. His testimony stands as a model for all Christians: evangelism is not merely presenting arguments, but earnestly longing for others to experience the grace we ourselves have received.
Acts 26:30-32
When he had said these things, the king stood up, as well as the governor and Bernice and those who sat with them; and when they had gone aside, they talked among themselves, saying, “This man is doing nothing deserving of death or chains.” Then Agrippa said to Festus, “This man might have been set free if he had not appealed to Caesar.”
Paul’s direct appeal to Agrippa, pressing him to a decision, proved too close and too personal. “When he had said these things, the king stood up, as well as the governor and Bernice and those who sat with them.” This sudden rising was a clear sign that the proceedings were being brought to an abrupt end. Conviction had come too near. Rather than deal with the uncomfortable demand of the gospel, they chose the safer course of closing the hearing. It is common for men to withdraw when the truth presses upon their conscience, fearing the personal cost of responding to Christ’s call.
After withdrawing, Agrippa and the others conferred privately. Their conclusion was clear: “This man is doing nothing deserving of death or chains.” Even those who rejected Paul’s message were forced to admit his innocence. The accusations brought by the Jewish leaders could not be substantiated. Agrippa respected Paul’s integrity, even if he rejected his gospel. This reflects a recurring biblical theme: the world often acknowledges the innocence of God’s servants, even while resisting the truth they proclaim. Pilate found no fault in Jesus (John 19:4, 6), yet still delivered Him to crucifixion. Likewise, Agrippa saw Paul’s innocence but stopped short of embracing his message.
Agrippa then said to Festus, “This man might have been set free if he had not appealed to Caesar.” From a human perspective, Paul’s appeal appeared unnecessary and even counterproductive. Had he left his fate in the hands of Agrippa, he might have been acquitted and released. Yet Paul’s course was already determined by God’s sovereign plan. When the Lord appeared to him in Jerusalem, He said, “Be of good cheer, Paul; for as you have testified for Me in Jerusalem, so you must also bear witness at Rome” (Acts 23:11). His appeal to Caesar ensured that he would indeed testify in the very heart of the empire.
Some have argued that Paul’s appeal was a mistake, suggesting he trusted in Roman law rather than God’s providence. However, the broader testimony of Scripture shows that Paul was being guided by divine purpose. His appeal advanced the gospel, giving him opportunity to proclaim Christ before Caesar himself, thus fulfilling the Lord’s promise: “He is a chosen vessel of Mine to bear My name before Gentiles, kings, and the children of Israel” (Acts 9:15). Moreover, this appeal secured Paul’s journey to Rome, which he had long desired, as he wrote earlier: “For God is my witness, whom I serve with my spirit in the gospel of His Son, that without ceasing I make mention of you always in my prayers, making request if, by some means, now at last I may find a way in the will of God to come to you” (Romans 1:9-10).
Even the Roman treasury, at the empire’s expense, would carry Paul to Rome to accomplish God’s will. What appeared to be a legal maneuver turned out to be the very means by which the gospel advanced to the center of the known world. In this we see God’s sovereign hand working through human decisions, opposition, and even apparent setbacks to accomplish His purposes.
Paul’s chains, therefore, were not signs of defeat but instruments of mission. As he would later write from prison, “But I want you to know, brethren, that the things which happened to me have actually turned out for the furtherance of the gospel” (Philippians 1:12).
