Acts 24:18–21

Acts 24:18 — "Found me purified in the temple, not with a mob, nor with turmoil"

Paul resumes his defense (begun in v. 10) by correcting the specific charge laid by the orator Tertullus, who accused him of being "a pestilential fellow, an agitator among all the Jews throughout the world, and a ringleader of the sect of the Nazarenes" who had attempted to "profane the temple" (vv. 5–6). Paul's reply is precise and forensic: the "certain Jews from Asia" — pilgrims from Ephesus and its region, likely hostile to Paul since his ministry there (cf. Acts 19:23–41) — had found him in the Temple precincts not leading a mob, but hagnismenon, having completed ritual purification (the Nazirite rite of Acts 21:23–26). The Greek word carries strong connotations of cultic cleanness and devotion. Far from being a desecrator, Paul had presented himself at the Temple in full observance of Torah. The phrase "not with a mob, nor with turmoil" (Greek: ochlos and thorybos) deliberately mirrors the language of the original accusation and demolishes it point by point. Luke, the author of Acts, writes as both historian and theologian: he wants his reader — whether Theophilus, a Roman official, or the community of believers — to see that Paul's legal innocence is also a sign of his spiritual integrity.

Acts 24:19 — "They ought to have been here before you"

This is one of the most forensically pointed statements in all of Acts. Under Roman law, accusers were required to appear in person before the magistrate; an accusation leveled by absent parties was procedurally inadmissible and, in Roman legal culture, deeply dishonorable. The verb dei ("ought") carries a strong sense of legal and moral obligation. Paul is not merely making a rhetorical point — he is exposing a fundamental failure of due process. The Asian Jews who raised the cry in the Temple (21:27–28) have simply vanished. Their absence, Paul implies, is itself testimony: they had nothing that could withstand cross-examination. Chrysostom, in his Homilies on Acts (Homily 50), marvels at Paul's composure here, noting that he does not rage against his accusers but calmly lets the structure of justice expose the emptiness of the charges. This is the boldness (parresia) of one whose conscience is clear.

Acts 24:20 — "What injustice they found in me when I stood before the council"

Paul now pivots to the Sanhedrin members who are present — the high priest Ananias and his delegation (v. 1). He challenges them directly: if the Asian Jews cannot or will not appear, then let these men, who witnessed his appearance before the Sanhedrin (Acts 23:1–10), state plainly what criminal act they observed. The word adikēma ("injustice" or "wrongdoing") is a legal term for a culpable offense. This is not false modesty — Paul is demanding specificity. The silence that follows is deafening.

Acts 24:21 — "Concerning the resurrection of the dead I am being judged before you today"

The climax of the entire defense speech is this single sentence, which Paul quotes from his own outcry before the Sanhedrin (23:6). The "one thing" (mias tautēs phōnēs) that could even loosely be called controversial was not sedition, not sacrilege, not political agitation — it was his proclamation of anastasis nekrōn, the resurrection of the dead. This is a master stroke on multiple levels. Legally, it reduces the charge to a matter of intra-Jewish theological dispute, which Roman law had no interest in adjudicating (cf. Gallio's dismissal in Acts 18:15). Theologically, it names the resurrection as the irreducible heart of the Christian proclamation — the skandalon that divides Paul from the Sadducees and, ultimately, the Church from the world. Luke places this declaration structurally so that it echoes all the way back to Pentecost and forward to Rome itself. The resurrection is not incidental to Paul's message; it is his message, and he has been willing to be bound, tried, and transported across the empire for its sake.

The Typological and Spiritual Senses

At the allegorical level, Paul standing before Felix prefigures Christ before Pilate — innocent, calm, allowing false accusation to collapse of its own weight. At the anagogical level, Paul's cry about the resurrection anticipates the eschatological judgment in which all earthly verdicts will be reversed. The absent accusers of verse 19 foreshadow those who, at the Final Judgment, will find their accusations against the righteous exposed as groundless before the throne of God.

Catholic tradition reads these verses within the broader theology of martyrdom, witness (martyria), and the resurrection as the foundation of Christian hope. The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that "the Resurrection of Jesus is the crowning truth of our faith in Christ" (CCC §638) and that Paul's missionary preaching had as its core content the death and resurrection of Jesus (cf. 1 Cor 15:3–4). In Acts 24:21, Paul's willingness to be imprisoned and tried specifically because he proclaimed the resurrection identifies him as a paradigmatic witness — not yet a blood-martyr, but already one who has surrendered his freedom to the truth of the Risen Christ.

St. John Chrysostom (Homilies on Acts, Hom. 50) highlights Paul's use of legal procedure as itself a form of evangelical witness: by exposing the absence of genuine charges, Paul demonstrates that the gospel is not the enemy of just order but of unjust disorder. The Church has consistently taught — from Tertullian's Apology to the Second Vatican Council's Dignitatis Humanae — that the proclamation of the truth, including revealed truth about resurrection and eternal life, cannot rightly be suppressed by civil authority.

The absent Asian accusers carry an important ecclesiological lesson noted by St. Bede the Venerable in his Commentary on Acts: those who stir up mobs against the truth often cannot sustain their attack when required to face orderly scrutiny. This is why the Church values both Scripture and Tradition interpreted within the structured community of faith rather than the volatile crowd of popular opinion. Finally, Paul's single plea — the resurrection — resonates with the Church's Lex Orandi: from the Easter Vigil to the daily Office, the resurrection remains the axis of Catholic prayer and worship.

Contemporary Catholics face a subtler but structurally similar challenge to Paul's: the core tenets of the faith — especially the bodily resurrection, the permanence of moral truth, and the unique salvific role of Christ — are increasingly treated as socially disruptive, even offensive. Paul's defense before Felix offers a practical template. First, know the charges: Paul does not react in panic but calmly identifies what, precisely, he is being accused of. Catholics today should be clear-eyed about which specific teachings provoke opposition and why. Second, reduce to essentials: Paul's masterstroke is stripping the controversy down to the one non-negotiable — the resurrection. Not every culture-war skirmish is worth equal energy; the resurrection and what it implies about human dignity, life, and destiny is the hill worth standing on. Third, let the absence of evidence speak: Paul trusts that truth does not need to shout. When a Catholic is challenged at work, in the family, or on social media, measured, specific, and truthful speech — rather than defensiveness or aggression — honors the tradition Paul models here.