Acts 25:20

And because I doubted of such manner of questions, I asked him whether he would go to Jerusalem.

Politeness and piety

1. Festus was at his wits’ ends through Felix’s mismanagement of the case. Now anybody who ever saw the ludicrous awkwardness of a politician suddenly forced to answer a religious question can quite appreciate the embarrassment of Festus. The Jews charged Paul with heresy, treason, and sacrilege. Of treason he could form a judgment; but what did he know about heresy or sacrilege? And he was acute enough to see that the only treason of which Paul was guilty was in supporting a theological King. Manifestly the whole thing was altogether out of his range. But it was of some value that he should make friends with his subjects. And he was surprised to find that his first act of government should put him at such a pitiable disadvantage; so he proposed that Paul should go up to Jerusalem, and be regularly tried by the Sanhedrin. Then the apostle appealed to Caesar. Here fell a new embarrassment upon this unfortunate governor, who had, by law, to send with every prisoner the full report of his case to the emperor. And no one can tell what he would have done about Paul if there had not occurred at the moment an incident promising to be most hopeful.

2. Herod Agrippa, the nominal king of the Jews, suddenly avowed his intention of paying a visit to Festus. This pleased the governor exceedingly. Paul had his rights. Nay, more; he had had his wrongs. And Festus did not know how to defend the one or extenuate the other. But Agrippa, an educated Jew, would understand all the complications that so confused him. So he put the case to him.

3. Festus is the type of a large class of educated, polite persons who look upon religious questions as belonging solely to religious people. They “doubt of such manner of questions.” They will sometimes indulge in a patronising little discussion; but when invited personally to the tests of a religious experience, they admit they do not understand them, are not interested in them, and respectfully remand all consideration of them fully to such people as will give them intelligent appreciation, and to whose peculiar “superstition” they belong. Now we do not need to imply reproach upon the character of this class. There is chance here to put in an honest word even for Festus. History makes a very creditable record of his administration, as well as of his reputation generally for candour, courage, and gentlemanly demeanour to all, and this narrative shows him in an amiable light.

4. Now the modern Festus has not, like Festus in Judea, just arrived. His whole early life has been passed within the reach of gospel practices and customs. He has grown up under the force and fervency of religious appeal. What does he think of all these things? Much will depend upon how far they seem likely to go. Festus could get on very well with Agrippa, for the king was one of that cool sort of Pharisees who in all ages hold their piety quite quietly in hand. But when Paul began to preach, and great, honest words of argument and burning appeal began to fly around the audience chamber, he was forced out of his discreet reserve, and exclaimed, “Paul, thou art beside thyself; much learning doth make thee mad.” And this pretty well represents the feeling with which many men of the world regard the ordinary phenomena of a religious life. They are scrupulously polite towards Christians. Some of them are excellent neighbours and worthy citizens. Only let a man keep within bounds and avoid reckless excitement. There is such a thing as going too far, and so becoming obtrusive. And then they intimate with cool politeness that good breeding may be shown even in one’s style of piety; it is best always to be careful, or one may unconsciously become coarse.

5. It cannot have escaped the notice of anyone that there does not seem to have passed across the mind of Festus the thought of examining Christianity. For all his conduct betrays, you might as well think of him as of one raised above the awkward necessity of being saved. And this is the exact lack to be observed in many men of the world. They contemplate religion as simply a phase of human nature, with which they have nothing in common. One would think these calm philosophers had forgotten that they had any souls of their own.

6. It so happens that one of the principles of our religion requires us to arouse others upon this neglect. Here is seen another step of this polite forbearance. We summon men to think, to investigate, to decide. They reply, “There are ever so many sects and creeds in the Church; for one, I doubt of such manner of questions; they are out of my line of thinking: they belong to other people.” One feels tempted to reply, “Well, does your soul, also, your Maker, heaven’s glory, belong to other people; or earth’s work, or bell’s wailing and woe? How did you reach that serene height of undisturbed satisfaction, your past flawless, your present unreproached, your future secure, so that you can look down upon human passion and conflict and toil, and smile as you say, ‘These all seem to have some questions of their own superstition’”? It is the part of simple kindness to move on, even at the risk of being impolite. The danger is too urgent; the duty is too pressing; the sanctions are too heavy. Men err if they suppose that becoming a Christian can be contemplated as one criticises a new painting with an eye-glass or looking through his hand. (C. S. Robinson, D. D.)