The Prisoner and the Judge
Acts 24ACT 24
Acts 24 furnishes a very remarkable contrast between a genuine Christian man and a man of the world: Paul, the prisoner, and Felix, the judge. They are brought face to face, and we are permitted to see, in the light of inspiration, the springs of action in the prisoner and the judge. Paul's eye was resting on the unseen and eternal; the eye of Felix was resting on the seen and temporal. Paul was standing in the light of heaven; Felix was involved in the darkness of earth. In short, they present a vivid and instructive contrast in every respect.
Let us meditate for a few moments on the striking picture. On looking closely at it, we see what we may venture to designate the faith, hope and practice of the two men.
Faith, Hope and Practice of Paul
First, let us hear from the lips of Paul, the prisoner of Jesus Christ, a statement of his faith, his hope and his practice.
(1) "But this I confess unto thee, that after the way which they call heresy, so worship I the God of my fathers, believing all things which are written in the law and the prophets." Here was Paul's faith: "all things which are written in the law and the prophets." A Christian man has, as we know, a wider field, being able to add "all things which are written in the New Testament.”
This is the faith of a Christian man—the whole Word of God—the undivided canon of inspiration.
He wants nothing more, he can do with nothing less, and he desires nothing different. "All scripture"
is the creed of the Christian, and, assuredly, it is amply sufficient. In it he finds his standard, his
confession, his touchstone and his all. By it he can test himself and all around him—his own thoughts
and the thoughts of his fellow men. Morals and doctrines can all be measured by this rule, and weighed in is this balance. It is divinely sufficient for all ages and all nations may find in the High and all ages and all low, rich and poor, learned and ignorant precious volume of God all they want. To say that we can ever stand in need of anything beside is to cast dishonor on that which our God has so graciously given.
(2) What was Paul's hope? "And have hope toward God, which they themselves also allow, that there shall be a resurrection of the dead, both of the just and unjust." This is the hope of a Christian—hope toward God and hope of resurrection. It is not toward man, nor has it reference to anything on this side of the grave. All earthly hopes and creature expectations vanish like the morning cloud. The stamp of death is on everything down here. The grave is the gloomy terminus of man's history in this world. Blessed be God, the hope of the Christian carries him beyond the grave altogether, and connects him with those unseen and eternal realities which belong to him as risen with Christ. There is nothing worthwhile down here for which to hope. All is rapidly passing away. The chilling breath of mortality is continually passing across earth's brightest scenes, and withering them. The fondest hopes we cherish, in reference to the creature, are sure to be disappointed.
Paul was wise, therefore he said, I "have hope toward God." Had it been otherwise, his lot would have been most miserable. He had reached the end of all that this world could offer. He had proved the hollowness of man's fairest pretensions. What remained, therefore, for him but to build all his hopes on the One who quickens the dead—the living God—the God of resurrection.
(3) Finally, we consider Paul's practice. "And herein do I exercise myself, to have always a conscience void of offense toward God, and toward men." Such is the practice of a Christian. May it be ours, from day to day, in all the scenes of life. May we be able to carry ourselves in such a way as to give no offense—no just occasion to man, to keep a clear and an uncondemned conscience in the presence of God. We ought not to be satisfied with less than this. We may be misunderstood, we may do things ignorantly, make mistakes, and fail in many things. But at this we should always earnestly and uprightly aim, to have a conscience void of offense toward God and man. It will, unquestionably, demand "exercise." It cannot be reached without difficulty. But it should be diligently sought, for it is the practice of a Christian.
Such, then, is the lovely picture presented in the person of Paul, the prisoner—the picture of a true, practical Christian. His faith reposes on the revelation of God. His hope reaches forth after resurrection, and his practice is characterized by earnest exercise to live a blameless and harmless life in the sight of God and man. God grant that we may know and exhibit these things in this day of so much empty profession.
Faith, Hope and Practice of Felix
Now we may look at the picture of a thorough man of the world. We shall not dwell on it, but merely call the reader's attention to its three prominent features.
(1) As to what we may call the faith of the man of the world, the Spirit of God has given it to us in very forcible language in our chapter, Acts 24. "And as he [Paul] reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come, Felix trembled, and answered, Go thy way for this time; when I have a convenient season, I will call for thee.”
The faithful ambassador in bonds stood before the governor, and thundered into his ear solemn and faithful words concerning righteousness, temperance and coming judgment—weighty themes! As the prisoner spoke, the judge trembled. How unusual! It was something new, something quite the reverse of what is ordinarily witnessed in judgment halls. "Felix trembled." Poor creature! Well might he tremble, and it would have been well if his trembling for himself had led to his trusting in Jesus. But he contented himself with the faith of a more "convenient season" which, so far as the record informs us, never came. It is vain for a man to speak of a more convenient season, inasmuch as he is sure never to have it.
There will always be something occurring to hinder his looking seriously at the great question of his eternal destiny—something to make it inconvenient. He may tremble under some powerful appeal on the momentous subject of "judgment to come," but the world, in its varied forms, will come in and make it an inconvenient season. So he goes on from day to day, and from year to year, until death comes and ushers him into that place of everlasting misery, "where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched." God's time is now! "Now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.”
“To-day if ye will hear His voice, harden not your hearts.”
(2) Look at the hope of Felix. "He hoped also that money should have been given him of Paul." What a thought! Felix could send for Paul "often" with the hope of getting money, but as to righteousness, temperance and judgment to come, he had no convenient season for them at all. What an unfolding of the hidden springs of action is here. What a development of the roots of things—eternity put off, and money diligently sought after. All seasons are convenient if there is a hope of money, but no season is convenient if it is the fear of judgment to come.
(3) Now a word as to the practice of Felix. "After two years Porcius Festus came into Felix' room: and Felix, willing to show the Jews a pleasure, left Paul bound." This completes the melancholy picture of a man of the world. His faith was "a convenient season," which never came. His hope was "money," which he never got, and his practice was to leave a blameless man bound to gain a little popularity.
May the Spirit of God engrave on our hearts the profitable lesson suggested by this graphic picture of Paul and Felix.
Now none but Christ can satisfy,
None other name for me!
There's love, and life, and lasting joy,
Lord Jesus found in Thee!