Acts 25:13–20

Verses 13–14 — Agrippa and Bernice arrive at Caesarea King Agrippa II (Marcus Julius Agrippa) was the great-grandson of Herod the Great and the son of Agrippa I, who had executed the apostle James (Acts 12:1–2). As a client-king under Rome, he held titular oversight of the Jerusalem Temple and the authority to appoint the High Priest, giving him unique credibility as an interpreter of Jewish affairs. Bernice was his sister, and their relationship was regarded with suspicion by both Jewish and Roman society. Their "greeting" (ἀσπασάμενοι, aspasamenos) of Festus is a formal diplomatic visit, typical of the reciprocal obligations between Roman provincial governors and allied client-kings. Luke situates this visit carefully: it is a providential occasion in which Paul's gospel will reach yet another throne room.

Verses 15–16 — Festus summarizes Jewish pressure and Roman procedure Festus recalls that at Jerusalem the chief priests and elders demanded a capital sentence against Paul. His reply, that Roman law does not condemn a man before he meets his accusers and mounts a defense, echoes a deep Roman legal principle (the cognitio procedure) but also—from Luke's perspective—carries resonance with basic natural-law justice. The irony is rich: a pagan governor defends principles of due process that the Jewish leadership, guardians of the Torah, had abandoned in their eagerness to destroy Paul. This mirrors the irony at Christ's trial, where Pilate repeatedly declared Jesus innocent while the chief priests pressed for execution (Luke 23:4, 14–15, 22).

Acts 25:17 — Swift convening of the tribunal Festus emphasizes that he acted without delay (mēdemian anabolēn poiēsamenos), sitting on the bēma (judgment seat) "on the next day." The bema is the same term used for the eschatological judgment seat of Christ (2 Cor 5:10; Rom 14:10), a typological detail Luke's audience would not miss: earthly tribunals foreshadow and are subordinated to the divine.

Verses 18–19 — The charges dissolve; the resurrection emerges This is the theological crux of the passage. Festus had expected accusations involving violence, sedition, or treason—the standard fare before a Roman court. Instead, the disputes turned on "their own religion" (δεισιδαιμονία, deisidaimonia, which can mean either "religion" or "superstition" — Festus's ambiguity is telling) and on "one Jesus, who was dead (tethnekotos), whom Paul affirmed to be alive (zēn)." Luke renders the resurrection in the starkest possible grammatical opposition: a perfect participle of death against a present infinitive of living. For Festus, this is mere theological quibbling. For Luke and his readers, it is the whole of salvation history compressed into one sentence. The resurrection of Jesus is not a footnote to Paul's legal trouble — it is the source of it.

Acts 25:20 — Festus's perplexity and his offer of Jerusalem Festus confesses himself "perplexed" (aporoumenos, literally "without a way through") about how to investigate questions of resurrection. His offer to send Paul to Jerusalem is ostensibly practical, but Luke has already shown it to be a trap Paul wisely averted by appealing to Caesar (Acts 25:11–12). The perplexity of Festus is itself spiritually instructive: the resurrection of Christ cannot be adjudicated by Roman jurisprudence or Jewish Temple politics. It stands outside every human court. It demands a different kind of inquiry — the inquiry of faith.

Typological and Spiritual Senses At the typological level, Paul before Festus and Agrippa continues Luke's sustained parallel between Paul and Jesus: both tried before governors, both declared innocent, both whose accusers could not produce evidence of true wrongdoing (cf. Luke 23:13–16). At the anagogical level, every earthly tribunal that encounters the resurrection is left aporoumenos — without a road — because resurrection is the irruption of eternal life into time, which no merely human authority can process or contain.

Catholic tradition illuminates this passage at several levels.

The Resurrection as the Center of Proclamation: The Catechism teaches that "the Resurrection of Jesus is the crowning truth of our faith in Christ" (CCC §638). Festus's unwitting summary — "one Jesus, who was dead, whom Paul affirmed to be alive" — is, despite its secular indifference, an accurate précis of the kerygma (1 Cor 15:3–5). St. John Chrysostom, commenting on this passage in his Homilies on Acts (Homily 51), marvels that the resurrection's proclamation penetrates even the halls of pagan power: "See how the preaching advances even through the mouths of enemies."

Natural Law and the Justice of Due Process: Festus's insistence on the accused meeting his accusers before judgment (v. 16) reflects what Catholic tradition calls the natural law — the moral order inscribed by God in reason itself. The Catechism (CCC §1954) affirms that natural law "is nothing other than the light of understanding placed in us by God." The fact that a Roman governor articulates this principle against Jewish religious leaders who had abandoned it is a striking witness to the universality of God's moral order.

The Church Before Temporal Power: Vatican II's Gaudium et Spes §76 teaches that the Church "does not place her hope in privileges conferred by civil authority." Paul's situation embodies this: his security comes not from Roman favor but from the providence of God, who uses even pagan courts as instruments of witness. Pope Benedict XVI, in Verbum Domini §94, reflected on how the Word of God presses outward "to the ends of the earth" — this scene is precisely such an expansion, the gospel reaching a throne room precisely because of, not despite, legal persecution.

Contemporary Catholics often find themselves in situations analogous to Paul before Festus: explaining the claims of faith — especially the resurrection — to interlocutors shaped by purely empirical or legalistic frameworks. Festus's perplexity is not malicious; it is the honest bafflement of someone whose categories cannot accommodate resurrection. This passage invites Catholics to resist the temptation to reduce the faith to something secular authorities can easily process — a social program, a therapeutic practice, a cultural heritage. The resurrection is not domesticatable.

Practically, this passage challenges Catholics in professional life — lawyers, civil servants, teachers, politicians — to embody the natural-law justice Festus models in verse 16, insisting on due process and fair hearing even under pressure from powerful interest groups. It also calls every Catholic to be ready, like Paul, to name the resurrection plainly and without embarrassment when the moment comes, even in unfriendly rooms. The faith is not a private affair to be tidied away before secular conversation; it is news about someone who was dead and is alive.