Acts Chapter 25 – “The Waiting Turns to Motion”
So here we are again — new governor, same cell. Paul’s still in Caesarea, two years later. Time can drag like an anchor when you’re stuck waiting for justice. The seasons might’ve shifted — maybe the waves sounded a little rougher at night, or the guards changed faces — but Paul’s reality didn’t. He’s still a prisoner for preaching grace.
Then in verse 1, we meet Festus, the new guy in charge. “Three days after arriving in the province, Festus went up from Caesarea to Jerusalem.”
Three days — that’s fast. The man wasted no time getting involved. You can almost sense how politically sharp he was. Maybe he wanted to make a good impression, start off strong with the Jewish leaders. And guess who brings up their favorite topic again? Yep, Paul.
The high priests and Jewish leaders meet with Festus and immediately start pressing him, “Do us a favor — have Paul transferred to Jerusalem.” (v.2-3)
But their plan wasn’t about fairness. Scripture says they were preparing an ambush to kill him along the way. Same old plot, same old hatred. They couldn’t win by truth, so they tried by trap.
Festus, though, says something interesting. He tells them Paul’s being held in Caesarea, and that he himself will be going there soon. “Let some of your leaders come with me and press charges against the man there, if he has done anything wrong.” (v.5)
You see, Festus is more careful than Felix. He’s new — maybe a little cautious, trying to stay balanced. Not foolish enough to walk into someone else’s feud too early.
So he goes back to Caesarea, and after a few days, Paul’s case comes up again. The scene feels almost familiar by now — the courtroom, the tension, the same faces with new expressions of frustration. They can’t stand that Paul’s still alive and still calm.
Verse 7 says, “When Paul appeared, the Jews who had come down from Jerusalem stood around him, bringing many serious charges that they could not prove.”
They’re shouting, throwing accusations — but no evidence. Just noise. Paul stands there, quietly, letting it all swirl around him before he answers:
“I have done nothing wrong against the Jewish law or against the temple or against Caesar.” (v.8)
Short, simple, clean. No dramatic defense, no flattery. Just the truth.
Then comes Festus’s tricky moment. He’s trying to win favor with the Jews — probably thinking politically, not spiritually — so he asks Paul, “Are you willing to go up to Jerusalem and stand trial before me there on these charges?” (v.9)
You can almost see Paul’s face harden a little. He knows what’s really behind that question. If he goes to Jerusalem, he’s walking into a death trap. He’s no fool.
So Paul speaks firmly now — “I am now standing before Caesar’s court, where I ought to be tried. I have not done any wrong to the Jews, as you yourself know very well.” (v.10)
And then — bold move — he says, “If, however, I am guilty of doing anything deserving death, I do not refuse to die. But if the charges brought against me by these Jews are not true, no one has the right to hand me over to them. I appeal to Caesar!” (v.11)
That sentence — “I appeal to Caesar” — changes everything.
You can almost feel the air go still in that courtroom. Appealing to Caesar wasn’t just a phrase; it was a legal bombshell. It meant Paul was taking his case directly to the emperor — to Rome itself. No more middlemen, no more local governors. Straight to the top.
Festus talks it over with his council and then says those final words: “You have appealed to Caesar. To Caesar you will go!” (v.12)
There it is. God’s plan finally turning the page. Remember back in Acts 23:11, when Jesus stood beside Paul at night and said, “You must also testify in Rome”?
Well, this — this is that promise unfolding. Slowly. Through politics, trials, and waiting. God moves even when people think they’re just making bureaucratic decisions.
Festus Meets King Agrippa
Now the story shifts. A few days later, King Agrippa and Bernice arrive in Caesarea to pay Festus a courtesy visit. (v.13)
They were sort of royal guests — flashy, powerful, and complicated. Agrippa knew Jewish laws, customs, and prophecies. Bernice was his sister, and their relationship, according to history, was… let’s say, not the most moral one. But that’s beside the point for now.
Festus, eager to impress, starts telling Agrippa about Paul’s case. He basically says, “Hey, I inherited this weird prisoner from Felix. The Jews want him dead, but I can’t find anything he’s done wrong. They keep arguing about this man Jesus who Paul claims is alive.” (v.18-19)
That line always makes me pause. Festus doesn’t even realize he’s summarizing the gospel right there — “a man named Jesus who Paul claims is alive.” That’s the heart of everything. The resurrection, stripped down to a sentence.
He admits he was confused — he’s a Roman official trying to understand Jewish theology. So he asked Paul if he’d be willing to go to Jerusalem for trial, but Paul appealed to Caesar. So now, Festus says, “I kept him until I can send him to Caesar.” (v.21)
Agrippa listens, interested. You can see a spark of curiosity in him. He says, “I would like to hear this man myself.” (v.22)
Festus replies, “Tomorrow you will hear him.”
And that’s how the stage is set for the next chapter — Acts 26 — one of the most beautiful defenses of faith ever spoken by Paul.
But before that, Luke gives us a glimpse of the atmosphere in the room. Verse 23 describes it: “The next day Agrippa and Bernice came with great pomp and entered the audience room with the high-ranking military officers and the prominent men of the city.”
I can imagine the shimmer of armor, the echo of sandals on marble, the whispers among the crowd. It’s a spectacle. Paul’s still in chains, probably thinner, weathered, but his eyes clear. The contrast couldn’t be sharper — earthly royalty dressed in luxury, and a servant of the King of Heaven in chains.
Festus then announces Paul’s case to everyone. He basically says, “Here’s the man everyone’s been shouting about. I don’t really know what to write to Caesar about him, so maybe you all can help me figure it out.” (v.25-27)
It’s almost ironic — Festus admits he’s sending someone to Rome, but doesn’t know what the charges even are. It’s both funny and sad. Politics often makes simple things complicated.
Reflection – “When Waiting Becomes Direction”
Acts 25 doesn’t give you closure. There’s no verdict, no miracle escape. Just another layer of waiting — but this time, there’s movement. God’s promise is steering the story toward Rome, even though it’s happening through messy politics and slow bureaucracy.
And maybe that’s one of the quiet truths of this chapter: sometimes God’s direction feels like delay.
Paul could’ve easily thought, “This is taking forever.” But really, every conversation, every governor, every trial was part of the route. God doesn’t always give us shortcuts; He gives us purpose hidden inside the process.
And that moment — “I appeal to Caesar” — it’s not just legal talk. It’s faith talk. Paul’s saying, “I know my mission. I know where I’m supposed to go.”
You see, faith sometimes looks like waiting for rescue. But other times, it looks like stepping right into the storm — because you trust that God will meet you in Rome.
A Personal Thought
I think about how many times I’ve wanted quick answers — fast justice, fast change, fast progress. But God, He moves at His own pace. Like Paul, sometimes we’re asked to wait inside someone else’s schedule, someone else’s system, yet trust that heaven hasn’t lost track.
Paul didn’t waste those years. He kept his faith alive, probably talked to guards, maybe prayed for Felix and Festus, maybe wrote letters that would one day shape the church.
And that’s what makes his story so strong — not because he avoided pain, but because he stayed faithful in it.
When you can’t see the end, when it feels like life’s stuck in legal loops or long pauses — remember this: God’s promises still move, even when your feet don’t.
Because sometimes the journey to Rome starts in the quiet halls of Caesarea.
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